《抱朴子外篇》Vol. 37

The disciples of Ge Hong (Baopuzi) once debated whether "benevolence" or "clarity" was more important, each expressing different views. Ge Hong responded: The radiance of sun, moon, and stars (the Three Luminaries) manifests the symbolism of the Qian (Heaven) trigram, while the earth's bearing of all things reflects the nature of the Kun (Earth) trigram. Heaven (Qian) possesses both luminosity and benevolent virtue, whereas Earth (Kun) has benevolence but lacks illumination. Do we not see the distinction between high and low, noble and base precisely revealed in this?

Only the virtue of sages can align with the Dao of Heaven. Thus Emperor Yao was renowned for his "reverent discernment," and Confucius prioritized "clarifying righteousness." The phrase "luminous luminosity above" praises the dignity of rulers, while "the wise preserve themselves" represents supreme wisdom from the "Greater Odes" of the Classic of Poetry. Even small insects demonstrate benevolence—they nurture their young and mourn their dead companions. Yet precisely because they possess only benevolence without wisdom, they fall into traps without vigilance, becoming ensnared unknowingly.

Humanity builds dwellings to replace nests, cultivates crops instead of foraging wild foods, creates clothing to cover nakedness, crafts boats and carriages to overcome distance, domesticates oxen and horses to ease labor, establishes hierarchies to prevent chaos, invents tools to prepare for contingencies, develops documents to administer officials, and institutes rituals to regulate customs—all these are achievements of wisdom (ming), not attainable through benevolence alone.

One who possesses benevolent virtue but lacks governing wisdom cannot avert calamity. To foresee rise and fall before signs appear, to discern subtle omens, to recognize the transformation of fortune and misfortune beyond apparent circumstances, to block slander at its source—this is the function of wisdom. To pity even insects, to bear offenses without resentment, to change sacrificial animals upon seeing their trembling, to avoid trampling roadside grass—these are manifestations of benevolence.

Wisdom belongs to capability; benevolence belongs to virtue. The heroic act of "sacrificing life to preserve benevolence" can be achieved through willpower, but the wisdom to penetrate hidden subtleties cannot be forced. With compassionate heart but no discerning clarity, one cannot distinguish truth from falsehood or right from wrong, failing to ensure even personal safety, let alone saving the world. The Duke of Zhou (Ji Gong) did not lack brotherly love, yet he upheld justice through tears by executing his kin; Shi Que of Wei was not without paternal tenderness, yet he resolutely put his rebellious son to death.

This passage discusses the importance of two qualities—"benevolence" (仁) and "wisdom" (明)—in governance. Ge Hong (the Master Who Embraces Simplicity) argues that sometimes one must set aside personal attachments to uphold public righteousness. Only by understanding principles without indulging in personal emotions can one become a truly loyal minister. Using moral principles to weigh affection, temporarily suspending benevolence to exercise wisdom—such balance is necessary. Benevolence may be set aside for a time, but wisdom is indispensable.

The text cites examples like King Tang of Shang and King Wu of Zhou, who seized power through military force but maintained it through benevolent rule. Though they appeared to lack benevolence in their actions, their compliance with the Mandate of Heaven to enact change was the epitome of wisdom. In contrast, figures like King Yan of Xu, who cultivated benevolence without preparing defenses, ultimately led their states to ruin—a calamity born of lacking wisdom.

When disciples quoted Confucius and Mencius’s praise of benevolence, Ge Hong responded: The ancients said that loving benevolence without learning leads to foolishness. Just as the Warring States period emphasized strategy and military power, Mencius’s emphasis on benevolence was necessary for his time—but he never claimed benevolence surpassed wisdom in importance.

Ge Hong uses an analogy: During epidemics, physicians are highly valued, but this doesn’t mean medicine is superior to the Dao of longevity. He cites classics like the Book of Changes (Yijing) and Book of Songs (Shijing), noting that "wisdom" aligns with the Dao of Heaven ("Great brightness [明] endures from beginning to end"), while "benevolence" is merely an expression of Earthly virtue (De). Finally, he quotes Confucius praising "intelligence, wisdom, and divine martiality" rather than "intelligent benevolence," along with examples of enlightened ancient kings, to prove that wisdom—more than mere benevolence—can attain divine clarity, a state unachievable through benevolence alone.

This discussion examines the practical role of "benevolent virtue" (rendé) in governance. Ancient classics reveal telling patterns: the Spring and Autumn Annals praises "luminous virtue" (mingdé) without mentioning "benevolence"; the Book of Documents exclaims "how enlightened is the sovereign!" (yuánshǒu míng zāi) rather than "how benevolent!"; Laozi describes superior scholars as "those who comprehend all directions" (míngbái sì dá), only referencing benevolence when lamenting societal decline: "When Dao (the Way) was lost, virtue (dé) appeared; when virtue was lost, benevolence arose." The Book of Changes advises rulers to "face the luminous south," not the benevolent south.

Though Confucius asserted "I desired benevolence, and it arrived" and "practicing benevolence depends on oneself" — suggesting universal accessibility — innate qualities like intelligence remain unattainable through force. Mencius illustrated this using the child-at-the-well parable: all would instinctively rescue the child, proving everyone possesses benevolent instinct (rénxīn) in varying degrees. Even the notorious Cui Zhu (power minister of Qi), whom Yan Ying condemned as "utterly lacking benevolence," displayed minor benevolent acts, demonstrating that even villains retain traces of benevolence.

Some cite the Book of Changes — "The way of establishing humanity lies in benevolence and righteousness" — to elevate benevolence as supreme virtue. The Daoist scholar Baopuzi (Ge Hong) counters: Benevolence emphasizes practice and can be cultivated through effort, whereas wisdom and comprehension belong to innate talent, unteachable by instruction. This parallels the modern adage "Kindness can be nurtured, brilliance cannot be forced."

[Context: This reflects Wei-Jin period debates on "innate talent versus cultivated virtue," examining the interplay between moral practice and inherent endowment. As a Daoist thinker, Ge Hong integrates Confucian benevolent ideals while emphasizing the prerequisite of extraordinary innate capacity for Daoist cultivation.]