《抱朴子外篇》Vol. 27

This passage comes from the "Critique of Arrogance" chapter in Baopuzi Outer Chapters by Ge Hong of the Eastern Jin dynasty, which primarily criticizes the prevailing culture of arrogance and indulgence in society at that time.

The text points out that those born into wealthy and powerful families often unconsciously develop an overbearing and haughty demeanor. True virtuous gentlemen (junzi) should maintain humility, for only then will they attract many followers. If they become proud and arrogant, those around them will depart. Having many followers ensures stable status, while mass desertion leads to peril—this is a matter of survival.

Some individuals of humble origins climb the social ladder by currying favor with the powerful and attaching themselves to rising stars. Once they gain influence, they become haughty and look down on others. They revel in banquets and social gatherings, treating guests with discrimination, favoring only those who frequently offer gifts and flattery. Mencius said that such superficial relationships lacking genuine respect are as pitiable as raising pigs.

True great men possess transcendent capacity—they rise above worldly concerns, wandering freely in carefree joy. Even dressed in tattered clothes and straw sandals, they refuse to compete for fame and profit with vulgar people, let alone learn the ugly art of sycophancy. Unfortunately, ordinary people only see their outward simplicity but fail to grasp the profundity of their spirit. These shallow observers focus on surface appearances, unable to appreciate inner cultivation. Though genuine sages possess extraordinary talents capable of solving the world's problems, they remain humble, never uttering words that violate propriety. Not even a thatched hut—the humblest dwelling—can shake their steadfast resolve.

Through contrasting the behaviors of the arrogant with those of true gentlemen, the passage satirizes the social trends of the time—fawning on the powerful, extravagance, and moral decay—while praising the Daoist ideals of emptiness, stillness, preserving authenticity (xu jing shou zhen), and transcending worldly attachments.

This passage employs multiple metaphors and allusions to critique the societal tendency of judging by appearances and blindly imitating the mannerisms of famous scholars.

The text begins with a series of contrasts illustrating cognitive limitations: dwarves cannot appreciate the grandeur of temple bells, ordinary people fail to recognize pearls in muddy waters, small insects mock the great Peng bird, and tiny fish show no admiration for the leviathans of the deep—all emphasizing how people of different levels struggle to understand one another. Thus, it admonishes those in positions of authority against superficial judgments, advocating instead for humility.

It then criticizes contemporary imitations of the eccentric behaviors of famous scholars like Dai Liang (styled Shuluan) and Ruan Ji (styled Sizong): wearing disheveled hair, public nudity, washing feet in crowds, relieving oneself indiscriminately, and treating guests with disrespect. The author points out that these were originally barbarian customs (the "left lapel" refers to the clothing style of northern tribes), not refined Central Plains traditions. Though Dai and Ruan possessed talent, their lack of propriety invited criticism—had they observed proper rites, their achievements could have been greater. Ordinary people blindly copying such superficial behaviors is likened to the famous anecdote of "Dong Shi copying Xi Shi's frown"—while Xi Shi's pained expression enhanced her beauty, her neighbor's forced imitation only accentuated her ugliness.

Finally, the text underscores the importance of ritual propriety: even emperors performed ceremonial bows to the "Three Elders and Five Sages" (venerated elderly exemplars of antiquity), setting an example for public respect toward elders. Those who disrespect others inevitably lack filial piety, and those seeking respect must first cultivate self-respect. The core message opposes hollow posturing while advocating for a way of life grounded in sincerity and ritual propriety.

The Outer Chapters of Baopuzi discusses the importance of steadfastly adhering to the right path in life and not drifting with the tide. The general meaning is as follows:

If one does not do good deeds, they will become wicked; if one does not concern themselves with important matters, they are petty. King Zhou of Shang was called a "solitary tyrant" for his cruelty and lack of virtue, while Confucius, though a mere subject, was honored as the "uncrowned king" (a sage with virtue but no throne). This shows that a true gentleman’s worth does not lie in wealth or status. Nowadays, some people act contrary to propriety yet dislike being criticized—like carrying a pig and complaining about the smell, or wallowing in mud and fearing others will call them dirty.

In ancient times, Xin You foresaw the rise of the Rong tribes when he saw people performing rituals with disheveled hair. Today, I observe society indulging in extravagance and debauchery, behaving like barbarians, and later, indeed, the Qiang and Hu tribes invaded the capital. Such calamities always have early omens. Now that the world is on the verge of peace and restoration is within reach, why not correct our mistakes together and cultivate noble virtue?

Only by entering a den of tigers and wolves does one appreciate the value of a true warrior; only in an age of moral collapse does one understand the rarity of those who uphold the Dao. Today, with virtue in decline, scholars and Confucians should grieve together and strive to rectify it. If one truly lacks the power to change things, they should at least maintain integrity like the bamboo and cypress, unyielding even in winter. How can one drift with the current, mingling with the vulgar to please others? This only leads further from the right path—truly lamentable.

If someone remains steadfast in the Dao, unswayed by popular trends, even if others reject them for being different, a true gentleman will not care. A gentleman should be open and upright, not pandering to worldly customs—like clear water stirring the mud or a straight arrow correcting a crooked wind. Even if they are not accepted or do not attain wealth and rank, what does it matter to stand alone while preserving Heaven-given virtue? Why distort one’s nature to please others, like cutting feet to fit shoes or breaking a square to fit a circle?

Those who uphold integrity will inevitably be disliked, but they must not compromise their principles. They may be insulted, but their conduct is their own. They may be ostracized, but their integrity must remain unchanged. Once their resolve is firm, no persuasion can sway them—they simply accept fate with contentment.

This passage critiques the moral decay of late Han dynasty society. Ge Hong (Baopuzi) observes how unlearned individuals of his time engaged in mutual flattery, elevating those who were arrogant and disregarded moral norms as "esteemed leaders" (都魁雄伯). These figures swaggered about, betraying ritual propriety with unrestrained behavior, foul language, and shameless misconduct that defied all decency.

What the ancients termed "enlightenment" (通达) originally meant comprehending virtue (De) and understanding humaneness and righteousness. Yet these contemporaries equated depravity, shamelessness, and licentious indulgence with enlightenment—as absurd as the legendary robber Zhi claiming possession of the Dao of sages. Such trends damaged human relations and ethics more severely than bandit raids, creating wounds not easily healed.

More lamentable still was how scions of noble houses and officials themselves abandoned ritual norms, receiving guests bareheaded and half-naked. Not only did they disgrace their offices, but they also corrupted common folk. When youths witnessed these powerful figures behaving thus, they mistook it for proper conduct in life.

Those who upheld ritual often lived in hardship, while the dissolute prospered. Thus worldly people rushed to emulate the latter. Some achieved ill-gotten wealth through purchased offices in their youth, polishing their reputations with petty cleverness and mutual promotion among cronies. The immoral would then cite such examples: "See how the indulgent prosper while we virtuous starve?"—never considering that success might stem from mere fortune, or that failure needn't indicate moral failing.

These so-called "enlightened" ones showed particular favor to their followers: receiving them with unlaced shoes, greeting them with ungirt robes, leading them hand-in-hand into inner chambers. In private they conversed knee-to-knee; at gatherings they gave gifts directly, granting every request and echoing every opinion.

This passage describes the harm caused when petty individuals gain power. When such people hold authority, those they favor receive aid even when at fault; their recommended candidates are like lame donkeys being praised as prized steeds—utterly undeserving of such acclaim. Meanwhile, those they slander suffer defamation akin to the unjust accusations hurled at Xiaoji (a virtuous minister of the Shang dynasty) by treacherous courtiers.

The devastation wrought by petty men resembles floodwaters bursting through a towering dam or wildfires raging across the dry grasslands of Yunmeng Marsh—unstoppable and all-consuming. To expect future generations to maintain solemnity and order under such rule is as futile as attempting to dry ice by fire or rekindle ashes into flame.

Through vivid metaphors, this passage exposes how petty rulers invert truth and falsehood, corrupting social norms, while illustrating the impossibility of preserving proper conduct in such a toxic environment.