1. Disputers of the Dao

Background to the Zhuangzi in ancient Chinese philosophy^[1]

Chinese philosophy, like Greek and South Asian (“Indian”^[2]) philosophy, has a written philosophical tradition that has lasted for millennia. Like Ancient Greek philosophy, its origins are a time of social and political turmoil. Like the Greeks, the original Chinese philosophers were interested in creating an ethical, social, and political system that would provide a means to cope with the vicissitudes of quotidian existence and to enable individuals to gain virtue or power. The ancient Chinese were particularly concerned with social and political stability. In part this is because of the importance in Chinese thought of the “reign of heaven.” This is a notion of the whole of the universe united under the governance of the cosmic order of heaven. Such an ordered universe would include a properly governed Chinese empire under the rule of an emperor who governed according to the “mandate of heaven, 天命.”

Chinese philosophy develops over the course of what are called the “Spring and Autumn” and “Warring States” periods. Under the called the “Spring and Autumn” period (approximately 771 to 476 BCE) the Eastern Zhao Dynasty, gradually lost much of its political power and authority. Regional feudal rulers gained more autonomy from the centralized power of the Zhou and warred with one and other for power and territory. In the “Warring States” period (approximately 476 to 221 BCE) which followed, the dissolution of centralized power reached its nadir, and the so-called “King of Zhou” was essentially a figurehead for a unified China without any real power or authority. There was no unifying, ordering emperor governing according to the mandate of heaven. This period of conflict and division ended with the Qin dynasty’s victory over the other competing states and the emergence of a unified Imperial China. Ancient China during the Eastern Zhou was thus full of competing fiefdoms^[3] that fought with each other for power and wealth. This disunity and the struggles of small lords violated “the mandate of heaven.” At the root of the notion of this mandate is Tiān (天) “heaven” or the inherent order in the cosmos. A society divided by many competing and warring states was not orderly and thus was characterized by a collapse of the structure that heaven should give to people’s lives.

The great philosopher whose writings came to be seen as the preeminent discourse, teaching, or “way” of living and ruling according to heaven’s order, was Confucius (ca. 551–479 BCE). Confucius’ work dates from the Spring and Autumn period (春秋時代). The thought of Confucius has been one of the most influential and long lasting continuous philosophical tradition in the history of humanity. Although Taoism, Buddhism, and competing philosophical traditions have at various times been profoundly important in East Asian thought, Confucianism is still a dominant philosophy in China, Korea, and other parts of East Asia.

Some of the core notions of Confucian thought that we will encounter in our reading of the Zhuangzi are:

仁 Ren (Humanity) Fulfilling one’s responsibility towards others

義Yi (Responsibility; Righteousness; Reciprocity) This means understanding that each individual lives in a society defined by social relations

禮Li (Proper Conduct of Ritual Propriety) More generally Li is principle or rule. This relates to ritual because ritual is what binds society and proper performance of ritual is part of keeping these bonds stable. In ritual we participate in and maintain the order of the universe. In Chinese thought and practice such ritual is secular as well as religious. It is built into the patterns that structure our way of life. An example would be a college’s commencement ceremony.

孝Xiao (Filial Piety) Each of us is the product of a family and proper duty and obedience to the male head of the family is essential to familial and societal stability.

In this book we are going to focus on a philosophy that developed as alternative to Confucianism and that is Daoism (Taoism). Daoism is both a religious tradition (religious Taoism) and a philosophical tradition. In China and other parts of East Asia religious Daoism is the more common manifestation of Daoism. However, Daoist philosophy has had an enormous influence in European and American society. This is largely credited to the popularity of the Dao De Jing (Tao Te Ching) which is credited to a likely mythical author Laozi.^[4] This popularity has led to works such as the Tao of Pooh, by Benjamin Hoff.

Daoism developed from a variety of writings, including the Dao De Jing that presented a perspective on the Dao or the mandate of heaven that is critical of Confucianism and, in many respects, fundamental at odds with the Confucian tradition. The core notions of Confucianism were rejected or fundamentally altered by the writers of these texts. When these writing were gathered they came to constitute an alternative philosophical system to Confucianism that includes metaphysical, epistemological, and moral assertions.

Instead of reading sections of the Dao De Jing, I am going to have you read the Zhuangzi (Chuang Tzu) by Zhuang Zhou. Both the Dao De Jing and the Zhuangzi were composed during the Warring States period (475 to 221 BCE) which was the second part of the Eastern Zhou dynasty. Traditionally Laozi was seen as a contemporary of Confucius and thus the Dao De Jing was viewed as the more ancient text. Scholars now mostly agree that the Dao De Jing is a compilation of variety of texts some of which were written later than the “Inner Chapters” of the Zhuangzi. You will be reading 6 of the 7 “Inner Chapters.”

At the core of the both the Dao De Jing and the Zhuangzi is the notion of 道 Dao (Tao). Dao can be translated as way, course, “guiding discourse.” It is the path one should follow if one is to attain 德 De (Te). “De” can be translated as virtuosity or power or virtue. In many ways it can be seen as similar to the Greek arete.

As you read the Zhuangzi you will encounter a text that is likely unlike anything you have read before. You may very well be confused and find that it makes little sense. Some pointers are to first understand that these are fables or little stories that are full of metaphor. There are certain themes that recur. These will be pointed out. Read the assigned chapters multiple times; they are all pretty short. And have the text with you in class. This is particularly important with this reading.

Also, Chinese is a character-based language, not an alphabetical language like English or Greek. The characters are composed of pen strokes called “radicals.” In some cases, especially with simple characters, the character in some ways looks like the meaning of the word. Words can be built up out of multiple characters and this allows for visual/verbal jokes and that metaphors that are invisible in the English translations. I will point out a few of these.

A simple example of this the character for “Ren” (仁). 仁 is composed of two parts:

“人” (meaning “person” or “people”)

“二” (meaning “two”)

Note that in both cases the character resembles the thing it refers to. “人” can be seen as a very simple sketch of a person standing. “二” is two horizontal strokes.

Putting them together, the etymological meaning of 仁 is “two people/persons.” Two people is the smallest society/social unit. So, the original meaning of the word is the proper relationship between people. Later usage of the word, particularly in Confucian context, made its meaning more complex. Ren becomes a virtue, a character, the ultimate goal of human life. As used in some contexts it can even be compared to some sort of spiritual enlightenment).

Here we see how two simple radicals that pictorially portray the basic concert they refer to are combined to form a more complex concept. This more complex is then developed in Chinese thought into an exceeding important philosophical, social and religious ideal.

For much more information on this see: The Chinese Text Project at https://ctext.org/dictionary.pl?if=en

2. Chapter 1, Zhuangzi

Prior to reading Chapter 1 of the Zhaungzi, observe how much the chapter title changes from translation to translation:

Here is the title of Chapter 1 in Chinese characters:

逍遙遊

Here are three Chapter 1 title translations:

“Enjoyment in Untroubled Ease” (Legge translation)

“Wandering Far and Unfettered” (Ziporyn translation)

“Going rambling without a destination” (Graham translation)

These are themes and metaphors for some core philosophical notions in the Zhuangzi. They all connect to the importance of perspective and the ubiquity of change. As you go from one place to another, as you change, as you see things from different vantage both the seer and the seen become different. The second alludes to the power of doing by not doing.

Zhuangzi, Inner Chapters, C. 1

Translated by James Legge

In the Northern Ocean there is a fish, the name of which is Kun.^[5] – I do not know how many li^[6] in size. It changes into a bird with the name of Peng 鵬,^[7] the back of which is (also) – I do not know how many li in extent. When this bird rouses itself and flies, its wings are like clouds all round the sky. When the sea is moved (so as to bear it along), it prepares to remove to the Southern Ocean. The Southern Ocean is the Pool of Heaven.

There is the (book called) Qi Xie, a record of marvels. We have in it these words: ‘When the Peng is removing to the Southern Ocean it flaps (its wings) on the water for 3000 li. Then it ascends on a whirlwind 90,000 li, and it rests only at the end of six months.’ (But similar to this is the movement of the breezes which we call) the horses of the fields, of the dust (which quivers in the sunbeams), and of living things as they are blown against one another by the air. Is its azure the proper colour of the sky? Or is it occasioned by its distance and illimitable extent? If one were looking down (from above), the very same appearance would just meet his view.^[8]

And moreover, (to speak of) the accumulation of water; if it be not great, it will not have strength to support a large boat. Upset a cup of water in a cavity, and a straw will float on it as if it were a boat. Place a cup in it, and it will stick fast; the water is shallow and the boat is large. (So, it is with) the accumulation of wind; if it be not great, it will not have strength to support great wings. Therefore (the Peng ascended to) the height of 90,000 li, and there was such a mass of wind beneath it; thenceforth the accumulation of wind was sufficient. As it seemed to bear the blue sky on its back, and there was nothing to obstruct or arrest its course, it could pursue its way to the South.

A cicada and a little dove laughed at it, saying, ‘We make an effort and fly towards an elm or sapanwood tree; and sometimes before we reach it, we can do no more but drop to the ground. Of what use is it for this (creature) to rise 90,000 li, and make for the South?’ He who goes to the grassy suburbs, returning to the third meal (of the day), will have his belly as full as when he set out; he who goes to a distance of 100 li will have to pound his grain where he stops for the night; he who goes a thousand li, will have to carry with him provisions for three months. What should these two small creatures know about the matter? The knowledge of that which is small does not reach to that which is great; (the experience of) a few years does not reach to that of many. How do we know that it is so? The mushroom of a morning does not know (what takes place between) the beginning and end of a month; the short-lived cicada does not know (what takes place between) the spring and autumn. These are instances of a short term of life. In the south of Chu there is the (tree) called Ming-ling, whose spring is 500 years, and its autumn the same; in high antiquity there was that called Da-chun, whose spring was 8000 years, and its autumn the same. And Peng Zu is the one man renowned to the present day for his length of life: if all men were (to wish) to match him, would they not be miserable?

In the questions put by Tang to Ji we have similar statements: ‘In the bare and barren north there is the dark and vast ocean – the Pool of Heaven. In it there is a fish, several thousand li in breadth, while no one knows its length. Its name is the kun. There is (also) a bird named the peng; its back is like the Tai mountain, while its wings are like clouds all round the sky. On a whirlwind it mounts upwards as on the whorls of a goat’s horn for 90,000 li, till, far removed from the cloudy vapours, it bears on its back the blue sky, and then it shapes its course for the South, and proceeds to the ocean there.’ A quail by the side of a marsh laughed at it, and said, ‘Where is it going to? I spring up with a bound, and come down again when I have reached but a few fathoms, and then fly about among the brushwood and bushes; and this is the perfection of flying. Where is that creature going to?’ This shows the difference between the small and the great.

Thus it is that men, whose wisdom^[9] is sufficient for the duties of some one office, or whose conduct will secure harmony in some one district, or whose virtue [de] is befitting a ruler so that they could efficiently govern some one state, are sure to look on themselves in this manner (like the quail), and yet Rongzi of Song would have smiled and laughed at them. (This Rongzi), though the whole world should have praised him, would not for that have stimulated himself to greater endeavour, and though the whole world should have condemned him, would not have exercised any more repression of his course; so fixed was he in the difference between the internal (judgment of himself) and the external (judgment of others), so distinctly had he marked out the bounding limit of glory and disgrace. Here, however, he stopped. His place in the world indeed had become indifferent to him, but still he had not planted himself firmly (in the right position). There was Liezi, who rode on the wind and pursued his way, with an admirable indifference (to all external things), returning, however, after fifteen days, (to his place). In regard to the things that (are supposed to) contribute to happiness, he was free from all endeavours to obtain them; but though he had not to walk, there was still something for which he had to wait.

But suppose one who mounts on (the ether of) heaven and earth in its normal operation, and drives along the six elemental energies of the changing (seasons), thus enjoying himself in the illimitable – what has he to wait for? Therefore, it is said, ‘The Perfect man has no (thought of) self; the Spirit-like man, none of merit; the sagely-minded man, none of fame.’

Yao, proposing to resign the throne to Xu You, said, ‘When the sun and moon have come forth, if the torches have not been put out, would it not be difficult for them to give light? When the seasonal rains are coming down, if we still keep watering the ground, will not our toil be labour lost for all the good it will do? Do you, Master, stand forth (as sovereign), and the kingdom will (at once) be well governed. If I still (continue to) preside over it, I must look on myself as vainly occupying the place – I beg to resign the throne to you.’ Xu You said, ‘You, Sir, govern the kingdom, and the kingdom is well governed. If I in these circumstances take your place, shall I not be doing so for the sake of the name? But the name is but the guest of the reality; shall I be playing the part of the guest? The tailor-bird makes its nest in the deep forest, but only uses a single branch; the mole drinks from the He, but only takes what fills its belly. Return and rest in being ruler – I will have nothing to do with the throne. Though the cook were not attending to his kitchen, the representative of the dead and the officer of prayer would not leave their cups and stands to take his place.’

Jian Wu asked Lian Shu, saying, ‘I heard Jie Yu talking words which were great, but had nothing corresponding to them (in reality); once gone, they could not be brought back. I was frightened by them; they were like the Milky Way which cannot be traced to its beginning or end. They had no connexion with one another, and were not akin to the experiences of men.’ ‘What were his words?’ asked Lian Shu, and the other replied, (He said) that ‘Far away on the hill of Gu Ye there dwelt a Spirit-like man [“spirit-men” appear through the Zhuangzi; they are individuals whose de is so great that they have almost supernatural power] whose flesh and skin were (smooth) as ice and (white) as snow; that his manner was elegant and delicate as that of a virgin; that he did not eat any of the five grains, but inhaled the wind and drank the dew; that he mounted on the clouds, drove along the flying dragons, rambling and enjoying himself beyond the four seas; that by the concentration of his spirit-like powers he could save men from disease and pestilence, and secure every year a plentiful harvest.’ These words appeared to me wild and incoherent and I did not believe them. ‘So it is,’ said Lian Shu. ‘The blind have no perception of the beauty of elegant figures, nor the deaf of the sound of bells and drums. But is it only the bodily senses of which deafness and blindness can be predicated? There is also a similar defect in the intelligence; and of this your words supply an illustration in yourself. That man, with those attributes, though all things were one mass of confusion, and he heard in that condition the whole world crying out to him to be rectified, would not have to address himself laboriously to the task, as if it were his business to rectify the world. Nothing could hurt that man; the greatest floods, reaching to the sky, could not drown him, nor would he feel the fervour of the greatest heats melting metals and stones till they flowed, and scorching all the ground and hills. From the dust and chaff of himself, he could still mould and fashion Yaos and Shuns – how should he be willing to occupy himself with things?’ A man of Song, who dealt in the ceremonial caps (of Yin), went with them to Yue, the people of which cut off their hair and tattooed their bodies, so that they had no use for them. Yao ruled the people of the kingdom, and maintained a perfect government within the four seas. Having gone to see the four (Perfect) Ones on the distant hill of Gu Ye, when (he returned to his capital) on the south of the Fen water, his throne appeared no more to his deep-sunk oblivious eyes.

Huizi told Zhuangzi, saying, ‘The king of Wei sent me some seeds of a large calabash, which I sowed. The fruit, when fully grown, could contain five piculs (of anything). I used it to contain water, but it was so heavy that I could not lift it by myself. I cut it in two to make the parts into drinking vessels; but the dried shells were too wide and unstable and would not hold (the liquor); nothing but large useless things! Because of their uselessness I knocked them to pieces.’ Zhuangzi replied, ‘You were indeed stupid, my master, in the use of what was large. There was a man of Song who was skillful at making a salve which kept the hands from getting chapped; and (his family) for generations had made the bleaching of cocoon-silk their business. A stranger heard of it, and proposed to buy the art of the preparation for a hundred ounces of silver. The kindred all came together, and considered the proposal. “We have,” said they, “been bleaching cocoon-silk for generations, and have only gained a little money. Now in one morning we can sell to this man our art for a hundred ounces – let him have it.” The stranger accordingly got it and went away with it to give counsel to the king of Wu, who was then engaged in hostilities with Yue. The king gave him the command of his fleet, and in the winter he had an engagement with that of Yue, on which he inflicted a great defeat, and was invested with a portion of territory taken from Yue. The keeping the hands from getting chapped was the same in both cases; but in the one case it led to the investiture (of the possessor of the salve), and in the other it had only enabled its owners to continue their bleaching. The difference of result was owing to the different use made of the art. Now you, Sir, had calabashes large enough to hold five piculs; why did you not think of making large bottle-gourds of them, by means of which you could have floated over rivers and lakes, instead of giving yourself the sorrow of finding that they were useless for holding anything. Your mind, my master, would seem to have been closed against all intelligence!’

Huizi said to Zhuangzi, ‘I have a large tree, which men call the Ailantus. Its trunk swells out to a large size, but is not fit for a carpenter to apply his line to it; its smaller branches are knotted and crooked, so that the disk and square cannot be used on them. Though planted on the wayside, a builder would not turn his head to look at it. Now your words, Sir, are great, but of no use – all unite in putting them away from them.’ Zhuangzi replied, ‘Have you never seen a wildcat or a weasel? There it lies, crouching and low, till the wanderer approaches; east and west it leaps about, avoiding neither what is high nor what is low, till it is caught in a trap, or dies in a net. Again, there is the Yak, so large that it is like a cloud hanging in the sky. It is large indeed, but it cannot catch mice. You, Sir, have a large tree and are troubled because it is of no use – why do you not plant it in a tract where there is nothing else, or in a wide and barren wild? There you might saunter idly by its side, or in the enjoyment of untroubled ease sleep beneath it. Neither bill nor axe would shorten its existence; there would be nothing to injure it. What is there in its uselessness to cause you distress?’^[10]

3. Chapter 2, Zhuangzi

Title in Chinese Characters:

齊物論

Chapter Title Translations:

“The Adjustment of Controversies” (Legge)

“Equalizing Assessments of Things” (Ziporyn)

“The sorting which evens things out” (Graham)

Chapter 2 of the Zhuangzi is philosophically rich. It is also fragmentary and, as A.C. Graham notes in his translation of Zhuangzi, often reads as though it is a collection of notes quickly jotted down. As the three chapter titles above indicate, much of this chapter is concerned with replacing the analyses, divisions and controversies between the other Chinese philosophical schools of the time with a single synthetic account. Controversies are adjusted. Assessments are equalized. Things are evened out. This account is grounded in a view of the universe that sees everything that exists as both unified and different. It is not that one perspective is correct and another incorrect each perspective, as a perspective, tells a truth from the point of view of that perspective. The Dao contains all the different perspectives. Consider, though, whether there can be a perspective that contains all perspective.

The first section presents the reader with a great wind or breath that “blows through” the “ten thousand hollows” and, depending on the shape of the hollow, produces a different sound.^[11] This great wind or breath is the 氣transliterated as “qi.” You are all experientially familiar with qi. Inhale. Exhale. In other words, breathe. This is your qi, your breath. It is what centers you and what keeps you alive. The great breath is the breath of the universe that blows through each things as it respirates. It is vital energy and life force, that which gives life or energy to every animated thing. This vital energy manifests itself in different ways depending on the forms it energizes. In Zhuangzi it is the fundamental force/energy of the universe. It is not some sort of basic matter, substance, or stuff, because it is always changing and transforming as it blows through the world. In Chapter 2 of the Zhuangzi this is demonstrated by the great wind passing through the hollows in things, it is what fills spaces, but the form it takes is determined by the hollow that it fills.

A way to understand this is to think about how the shapes of different musical instruments determines the sound the breath takes when someone blows through them. A flute sounds different from a saxophone which sounds different from a trombone.

Then, in section 5, it states: There is no thing that is not “that”, and there is no thing that is not “this”. In other words, all things are interdependent, and no thing is a specific sort of thing separate from its relation to other things. One thing cannot be as it is without its particular opposition to that which it is not. Part of what you are is not a rock. This relationship of non-identity is essential to what you are. Because of this everything is part of a vast network of relatedness to every other thing. The Zhuangzi is full of such differences that are part of a greater unity.

The chapter ends with one of the most beloved fables in Zhuangzi, that of Zhuang Zhou and the butterfly. This is a fable of about identity and transformation.

Zhuangzi, Inner Chapters, C. 2

James Legge, trans.

1. Nan-Guo Zi-Qi was seated, leaning forward on his stool. He was looking up to heaven and breathed gently, seeming to be in a trance, and to have lost all consciousness of any companion. (His disciple), Yan Cheng Zi-You, who was in attendance and standing before him, said, ‘What is this? Can the body be made to become thus like a withered tree, and the mind to become like slaked lime? His appearance as he leans forward on the stool to-day is such as I never saw him have before in the same position.’ Zi-Qi said, ‘Yan, you do well to ask such a question, I had just now lost myself; but how should you understand it? You may have heard the notes of Man, but have not heard those of Earth; you may have heard the notes of Earth, but have not heard those of Heaven.’

Zi-You said, ‘I venture to ask from you a description of all these.’ The reply was, ‘When the breath (氣 “qi” or “ch’i) of the Great Mass (of nature) comes strongly, it is called Wind. Sometimes it does not come so; but when it does, then from a myriad apertures there issues its excited noise; have you not heard it in a prolonged gale? Take the projecting bluff of a mountain forest – in the great trees, a hundred spans round, the apertures and cavities are like the nostrils, or the mouth, or the ears; now square, now round like a cup or a mortar; here like a wet footprint, and there like a large puddle. (The sounds issuing from them are like) those of fretted water, of the arrowy whizz, of the stern command, of the inhaling of the breath, of the shout, of the gruff note, of the deep wail, of the sad and piping note. The first notes are slight, and those that follow deeper, but in harmony with them. Gentle winds produce a small response; violent winds a great one. When the fierce gusts have passed away, all the apertures are empty (and still) – have you not seen this in the bending and quivering of the branches and leaves?’

Zi-You said, ‘The notes of Earth then are simply those which come from its myriad apertures; and the notes of Man may just be compared to those which (are brought from the tubes of) bamboo- allow me to ask about the notes of Heaven.’ Zi-Qi replied, ‘Blowing the myriad differences, making them stop [proceed] of themselves, sealing their self-selecting – who is it that stirs it all up?’

[1. 已 : Another version reads: “己”. 王孝魚點校《莊子集釋》作「己」。

2. ‘Blowing the myriad differences, making them stop [proceed] of themselves, sealing their self-selecting – who is it that stirs it all up?’ : Another version reads: “‘When (the wind) blows, (the sounds from) the myriad apertures are different, and (its cessation) makes them stop of themselves. Both of these things arise from (the wind and the apertures) themselves – should there be any other agency that excites them?'”. (James Legge’s original version)]

2. Great knowledge is wide and comprehensive; small knowledge is partial and restricted. Great speech is exact and complete; small speech is (merely) so much talk. When we sleep, the soul communicates with (what is external to us); when we awake, the body is set free. Our intercourse with others then leads to various activity, and daily there is the striving of mind with mind. There are hesitancies; deep difficulties; reservations; small apprehensions causing restless distress, and great apprehensions producing endless fears. Where their utterances are like arrows from a bow, we have those who feel it their charge to pronounce what is right and what is wrong; where they are given out like the conditions of a covenant, we have those who maintain their views, determined to overcome. (The weakness of their arguments), like the decay (of things) in autumn and winter, shows the failing (of the minds of some) from day to day; or it is like their water which, once voided, cannot be gathered up again. Then their ideas seem as if fast bound with cords, showing that the mind is become like an old and dry moat, and that it is nigh to death, and cannot be restored to vigour and brightness. Joy and anger, sadness and pleasure, anticipation and regret, fickleness and fixedness, vehemence and indolence, eagerness and tardiness;– (all these moods), like music from an empty tube, or mushrooms from the warm moisture, day and night succeed to one another and come before us, and we do not know whence they sprout. Let us stop! Let us stop! Can we expect to find out suddenly how they are produced?

3. If there were not (the views of) another, I should not have mine; if there were not I (with my views), his would be uncalled for:– this is nearly a true statement of the case, but we do not know what it is that makes it be so. It might seem as if there would be a true Governor concerned in it, but we do not find any trace (of his presence and acting). That such an One could act so I believe; but we do not see His form. He has affections, but He has no form. Given the body, with its hundred parts, its nine openings, and its six viscera, all complete in their places, which do I love the most? Do you love them all equally? or do you love some more than others? Is it not the case that they all perform the part of your servants and waiting women? All of them being such, are they not incompetent to rule one another? or do they take it in turns to be now ruler and now servants? There must be a true Ruler (among them) whether by searching you can find out His character or not, there is neither advantage nor hurt, so far as the truth of His operation is concerned. When once we have received the bodily form complete, its parts do not fail to perform their functions till the end comes. In conflict with things or in harmony with them, they pursue their course to the end, with the speed of a galloping horse which cannot be stopped – is it not sad? To be constantly toiling all one’s lifetime, without seeing the fruit of one’s labour, and to be weary and worn out with his labour, without knowing where he is going to – is it not a deplorable case? Men may say, ‘But it is not death;’ yet of what advantage is this? When the body is decomposed, the mind will be the same along with it – must not the case be pronounced very deplorable? Is the life of man indeed enveloped in such darkness? Is it I alone to whom it appears so? And does it not appear to be so to other men?

4. If we were to follow the judgments of the predetermined mind, who would be left alone and without a teacher? Not only would it be so with those who know the sequences (of knowledge and feeling) and make their own selection among them, but it would be so as well with the stupid and unthinking. For one who has not this determined mind, to have his affirmations and negations is like the case described in the saying, ‘He went to Yue to-day, and arrived at it yesterday.’ It would be making what was not a fact to be a fact. But even the spirit-like Yu could not have known how to do this, and how should one like me be able to do it? But speech is not like the blowing (of the wind); the speaker has (a meaning in) his words. If, however, what he says, be indeterminate (as from a mind not made up), does he then really speak or not? He thinks that his words are different from the chirpings of fledgelings; but is there any distinction between them or not? But how can the Dao be so obscured, that there should be ‘a True’ and ‘a False’ in it? How can speech be so obscured that there should be ‘the Right’ and ‘the Wrong’ about them? Where shall the Dao go to that it will not be found? Where shall speech be found that it will be inappropriate? Dao becomes obscured through the small comprehension (of the mind), and speech comes to be obscure through the vain-gloriousness (of the speaker). So it is that we have the contentions between the Literati and the Mohists, the one side affirming what the other denies, and vice versa. If we would decide on their several affirmations and denials, no plan is like bringing the (proper) light (of the mind) to bear on them.

5. There is no thing that is not “that”, and there is no thing that is not “this”. If I look at something from “that”, I do not see it; only if I look at it from knowing do I know it. Hence it is said, ‘That view comes from this; and this view is a consequence of that:’ – which is the theory that that view and this (the opposite views) produce each the other. Although it be so, there is affirmed now life and now death; now death and now life; now the admissibility of a thing and now its inadmissibility; now its inadmissibility and now its admissibility. (The disputants) now affirm and now deny; now deny and now affirm. Therefore, the sagely man does not pursue this method, but views things in the light of (his) Heaven (-ly nature), and hence forms his judgment of what is right. This view is the same as that, and that view is the same as this. But that view involves both a right and a wrong; and this view involves also a right and a wrong – are there indeed the two views, that and this? Or are there not the two views, that and this? They have not found their point of correspondency which is called the pivot of the Dao. As soon as one finds this pivot, he stands in the centre of the ring (of thought), where he can respond without end to the changing views; without end to those affirming, and without end to those denying. Therefore I said, ‘There is nothing like the proper light (of the mind).’

6. By means of a finger (of my own) to illustrate that the finger (of another) is not a finger is not so good a plan as to illustrate that it is not so by means of what is (acknowledged to be) not a finger; and by means of (what I call) a horse to illustrate that (what another calls) a horse is not so, is not so good a plan as to illustrate that it is not a horse, by means of what is (acknowledged to be) not a horse. (All things in) heaven and earth may be (dealt with as) a finger; (each of) their myriads may be (dealt with as) a horse.

Does a thing seem so to me? (I say that) it is so. Does it seem not so to me? (I say that) it is not so. A path is formed by (constant) treading on the ground. A thing is called by its name through the (constant) application of the name to it. How is it so? It is so because it is so. How is it not so? It is not so, because it is not so. Everything has its inherent character and its proper capability. There is nothing which has not these. Therefore, this being so, if we take a stalk of grain and a (large) pillar, a loathsome (leper) and (a beauty like) Xi Shi, things large and things insecure, things crafty and things strange; they may in the light of the Dao all be reduced to the same category (of opinion about them).

It was separation that led to completion; from completion ensued dissolution. But all things, without regard to their completion and dissolution, may again be comprehended in their unity – it is only the far reaching in thought who know how to comprehend them in this unity. This being so, let us give up our devotion to our own views, and occupy ourselves with the ordinary views. These ordinary views are grounded on the use of things. (The study of that) use leads to the comprehensive judgment, and that judgment secures the success (of the inquiry). That success gained, we are near (to the object of our search), and there we stop. When we stop, and yet we do not know how it is so, we have what is called the Dao. When we toil our spirits and intelligence, obstinately determined (to establish our own view), and do not know the agreement (which underlies it and the views of others), we have what is called ‘In the morning three.’ What is meant by that ‘In the morning three?’ A keeper of monkeys, in giving them out their acorns, (once) said, ‘In the morning I will give you three (measures) and in the evening four.’ This made them all angry, and he said, ‘Very well. In the morning I will give you four and in the evening three.’ The monkeys were all pleased. His two proposals were substantially the same, but the result of the one was to make the creatures angry, and of the other to make them pleased – an illustration of the point I am insisting on. Therefore, the sagely man brings together a dispute in its affirmations and denials, and rests in the equal fashioning of Heaven. Both sides of the question are admissible.

7. Among the men of old their knowledge reached the extreme point. What was that extreme point? Some held that at first there was not anything. This is the extreme point, the utmost point to which nothing can be added. A second class held that there was something, but without any responsive recognition of it (on the part of men). A third class held that there was such recognition, but there had not begun to be any expression of different opinions about it. It was through the definite expression of different opinions about it that there ensued injury to (the doctrine of) the Dao. It was this injury to the (doctrine of the) Dao which led to the formation of (partial) preferences. Was it indeed after such preferences were formed that the injury came? or did the injury precede the rise of such preferences? If the injury arose after their formation, Zhao’s method of playing on the lute was natural. If the injury arose before their formation, there would have been no such playing on the lute as Zhao’s. Zhao Wen’s playing on the lute, Shi Kuang’s indicating time with his staff, and Huizi’s (giving his views), while leaning against a dryandra tree (were all extraordinary). The knowledge of the three men (in their several arts) was nearly perfect, and therefore they practised them to the end of their lives. They loved them because they were different from those of others. They loved them and wished to make them known to others. But as they could not be made clear, though they tried to make them so, they ended with the obscure (discussions) about ‘the hard’ and ‘the white.’ And their sons, moreover, with all the threads of their fathers’ compositions, yet to the end of their lives accomplished nothing. If they, proceeding in this way, could be said to have succeeded, then am I also successful; if they cannot be pronounced successful, neither I nor any other can succeed. Therefore the scintillations of light from the midst of confusion and perplexity are indeed valued by the sagely man; but not to use one’s own views and to take his position on the ordinary views is what is called using the (proper) light.

8. But here now are some other sayings – I do not know whether they are of the same character as those which I have already given, or of a different character. Whether they be of the same character or not when looked at along with them, they have a character of their own, which cannot be distinguished from the others. But though this be the case, let me try to explain myself. There was a beginning. There was a beginning before that beginning. There was a beginning previous to that beginning before there was the beginning. There was existence; there had been no existence. There was no existence before the beginning of that no existence. There was no existence previous to the no existence before there was the beginning of the no existence. If suddenly there was nonexistence, we do not know whether it was really anything existing, or really not existing. Now I have said what I have said, but I do not know whether what I have said be really anything to the point or not.

9. Under heaven there is nothing greater than the tip of an autumn down, and the Tai mountain is small. There is no one more long-lived than a child which dies prematurely, and Peng Zu did not live out his time. Heaven, Earth, and I were produced together, and all things and I are one. Since they are one, can there be speech about them? But since they are spoken of as one, must there not be room for speech? One and Speech are two; two and one are three. Going on from this (in our enumeration), the most skilful reckoner cannot reach (the end of the necessary numbers), and how much less can ordinary people do so! Therefore from non-existence we proceed to existence till we arrive at three; proceeding from existence to existence, to how many should we reach? Let us abjure such procedure, and simply rest here.

10. The Dao at first met with no responsive recognition. Speech at first had no constant forms of expression. Because of this there came the demarcations (of different views). Let me describe those demarcations: they are the Left and the Right; the Relations and their Obligations; Classifications and their Distinctions; Emulations and Contentions. These are what are called ‘the Eight Qualities.’ Outside the limits of the world of men, the sage occupies his thoughts, but does not discuss about anything; inside those limits he occupies his thoughts, but does not pass any judgments. In the Chun Qiu, which embraces the history of the former kings, the sage indicates his judgments, but does not argue (in vindication of them). Thus it is that he separates his characters from one another without appearing to do so, and argues without the form of argument. How does he do so? The sage cherishes his views in his own breast, while men generally state theirs argumentatively, to show them to others. Hence we have the saying, ‘Disputation is a proof of not seeing clearly.’

The Great Dao does not admit of being praised. The Great Argument does not require words. Great Benevolence is not (officiously) benevolent. Great Disinterestedness does not vaunt its humility. Great Courage is not seen in stubborn bravery. The Dao that is displayed is not the Dao. Words that are argumentative do not reach the point. Benevolence that is constantly exercised does not accomplish its object. Disinterestedness that vaunts its purity is not genuine. Courage that is most stubborn is ineffectual. These five seem to be round (and complete), but they tend to become square (and immovable). Therefore the knowledge that stops at what it does not know is the greatest. Who knows the argument that needs no words, and the Way that is not to be trodden? He who is able to know this has what is called ‘The Heavenly Treasure-house.’ He may pour into it without its being filled; he may pour from it without its being exhausted; and all the while he does not know whence (the supply) comes. This is what is called ‘The Store of Light.’ Therefore of old Yao asked Shun, saying, ‘I wish to smite (the rulers of) Zong, Kuai, and Xu-Ao. Even when standing in my court, I cannot get them out of my mind. How is it so?’ Shun replied, ‘Those three rulers live (in their little states) as if they were among the mugwort and other brushwood – how is it that you cannot get them out of your mind? Formerly, ten suns came out together, and all things were illuminated by them; how much should (your) virtue exceed (all) suns!’

11. Nie Que asked Wang Ni, saying, ‘Do you know, Sir, what all creatures agree in approving and affirming?’ ‘How should I know it?’ was the reply. ‘Do you know what it is that you do not know?’ asked the other again, and he got the same reply. He asked a third time, ‘Then are all creatures thus without knowledge?’ and Wang Ni answered as before, (adding however), ‘Notwithstanding, I will try and explain my meaning. How do you know that when I say “I know it,” I really (am showing that) I do not know it, and that when I say “I do not know it,” I really am showing that I do know it.’ And let me ask you some questions: ‘If a man sleep in a damp place, he will have a pain in his loins, and half his body will be as if it were dead; but will it be so with an eel? If he be living in a tree, he will be frightened and all in a tremble; but will it be so with a monkey? And does any one of the three know his right place ? Men eat animals that have been fed on grain and grass; deer feed on the thick-set grass; centipedes enjoy small snakes; owls and crows delight in mice; but does any one of the four know the right taste? The dog-headed monkey finds its mate in the female gibbon; the elk and the axis deer cohabit; and the eel enjoys itself with other fishes. Mao Qiang and Li Ji were accounted by men to be most beautiful, but when fishes saw them, they dived deep in the water from them; when birds, they flew from them aloft; and when deer saw them, they separated and fled away. But did any of these four know which in the world is the right female attraction? As I look at the matter, the first principles of benevolence and righteousness and the paths of approval and disapproval are inextricably mixed and confused together – how is it possible that I should know how to discriminate among them?’ Nie Que said (further), ‘Since you, Sir, do not know what is advantageous and what is hurtful, is the Perfect man also in the same way without the knowledge of them?’ Wang Ni replied, ‘The Perfect man is spirit-like. Great lakes might be boiling about him, and he would not feel their heat; the He and the Han might be frozen up, and he would not feel the cold; the hurrying thunderbolts might split the mountains, and the wind shake the ocean, without being able to make him afraid. Being such, he mounts on the clouds of the air, rides on the sun and moon, and rambles at ease beyond the four seas. Neither death nor life makes any change in him, and how much less should the considerations of advantage and injury do so!’

12. Qu Quezi asked Chang Wuzi, saying, ‘I heard the Master (speaking of such language as the following): “The sagely man does not occupy himself with worldly affairs. He does not put himself in the way of what is profitable, nor try to avoid what is hurtful; he has no pleasure in seeking (for anything from any one); he does not care to be found in (any established) Way; he speaks without speaking; he does not speak when he speaks; thus finding his enjoyment outside the dust and dirt (of the world).” The Master considered all this to be a shoreless flow of mere words, and I consider it to describe the course of the Mysterious Way – What do you, Sir, think of it?’ Chang Wuzi replied, ‘The hearing of such words would have perplexed even Huang Di, and how should Qiu be competent to understand them? And you, moreover, are too hasty in forming your estimate (of their meaning). You see the egg, and (immediately) look out for the cock (that is to be hatched from it); you see the bow, and (immediately) look out for the dove (that is to be brought down by it) being roasted. I will try to explain the thing to you in a rough way; do you in the same way listen to me. How could any one stand by the side of the sun and moon, and hold under his arm all space and all time? (Such language only means that the sagely man) keeps his mouth shut, and puts aside questions that are uncertain and dark; making his inferior capacities unite with him in honouring (the One Lord). Men in general bustle about and toil; the sagely man seems stupid and to know nothing. He blends ten thousand years together in the one (conception of time); the myriad things all pursue their spontaneous course, and they are all before him as doing so. How do I know that the love of life is not a delusion? and that the dislike of death is not like a young person’s losing his way, and not knowing that he is (really) going home? Li Ji was a daughter of the border Warden of Ai. When (the ruler of) the state of Jin first got possession of her, she wept till the tears wetted all the front of her dress. But when she came to the place of the king, shared with him his luxurious couch, and ate his grain-and-grass-fed meat, then she regretted that she had wept. How do I know that the dead do not repent of their former craving for life? Those who dream of (the pleasures of) drinking may in the morning wail and weep; those who dream of wailing and weeping may in the morning be going out to hunt. When they were dreaming they did not know it was a dream; in their dream they may even have tried to interpret it; but when they awoke they knew that it was a dream. And there is the great awaking, after which we shall know that this life was a great dream. All the while, the stupid think they are awake, and with nice discrimination insist on their knowledge; now playing the part of rulers, and now of grooms. Bigoted was that Qiu! He and you are both dreaming. I who say that you are dreaming am dreaming myself. These words seem very strange; but if after ten thousand ages we once meet with a great sage who knows how to explain them, it will be as if we met him (unexpectedly) some morning or evening.

Since you made me enter into this discussion with you, if you have got the better of me and not I of you, are you indeed right, and I indeed wrong? If I have got the better of you and not you of me, am I indeed right and you indeed wrong? Is the one of us right and the other wrong? are we both right or both wrong? Since we cannot come to a mutual and common understanding, men will certainly continue in darkness on the subject. Whom shall I employ to adjudicate in the matter? If I employ one who agrees with you, how can he, agreeing with you, do so correctly? If I employ one who agrees with me, how can he, agreeing with me, do so correctly? If I employ one who disagrees with you and I, how can he, disagreeing with you and I, do so correctly? If I employ one who agrees with you and I, how can he, agreeing with you and I, do so correctly? In this way I and you and those others would all not be able to come to a mutual understanding; and shall we then wait for that (great sage)? (We need not do so.) To wait on others to learn how conflicting opinions are changed is simply like not so waiting at all. The harmonising of them is to be found in the invisible operation of Heaven, and by following this on into the unlimited past. It is by this method that we can complete our years (without our minds being disturbed). What is meant by harmonising (conflicting opinions) in the invisible operation of Heaven? There is the affirmation and the denial of it; and there is the assertion of an opinion and the rejection of it. If the affirmation be according to the reality of the fact, it is certainly different from the denial of it – there can be no dispute about that. If the assertion of an opinion be correct, it is certainly different from its rejection – neither can there be any dispute about that. Let us forget the lapse of time; let us forget the conflict of opinions. Let us make our appeal to the Infinite, and take up our position there.’

13. The Penumbra asked the Shadow, saying, ‘Formerly you were walking on, and now you have stopped; formerly you were sitting, and now you have risen up – how is it that you are so without stability?’ The Shadow replied, ‘I wait for the movements of something else to do what I do, and that something else on which I wait waits further on another to do as it does. My waiting, is it for the scales of a snake, or the wings of a cicada? How should I know why I do one thing, or do not do another?

14. Formerly, I, Zhuang Zhou, dreamt that I was a butterfly, a butterfly flying about, feeling that it was enjoying itself. I did not know that it was Zhou. Suddenly I awoke, and was myself again, the veritable Zhou. I did not know whether it had formerly been Zhou dreaming that he was a butterfly, or it was now a butterfly dreaming that it was Zhou. But between Zhou and a butterfly there must be a difference. This is a case of what is called the Transformation.

4. Chapter 3, Zhuangzi

Title in Chinese Characters:

養生主

Chapter Title Translations:

“The Primacy of Nourishing Life” (Ziporyn)

“Nourishing the Lord of Life” (Legge)

“What matters in the nurture of life” (Graham)

Although Chapter 3 of the Zhuangzi is short, it establishes some important Daoist principles.

The short first section of this chapter requires careful reading. In the Legge translation it says that our life is limited but knowledge is unlimited. It then goes on to say that it is perilous for what is limited to pursue the unlimited. This is part of a thread in the Zhuangzi that is opposed to the pursuit of knowledge for its own sake. The correct Dao is that of flowing within the limits of where you are and who you are.

Interestingly, doing this is said to give extraordinary powers. This is shown in the next section.

The next section introduces the reader to the cook of King Hui. This cook, whose art at butchering an ox astonishes the king states,

“What your servant loves is the method of the Dao, something in advance of any art.” (Legge)

“What I love is the Course, something that advances beyond mere skill.” (Ziporyn)

Following the “Dao” allows the cook to slice through the spaces that lie within the carcass of the ox. Legge translates these spaces as the “natural lines.” Ziporyn, in his translation, helpfully tells us that the characters translated here are, tianli (莫不). He translates this as “heaven’s unwrought perforations.” What is important here is the notion of “heaven,” which, as I noted earlier, also can be translated as “natural.” What the cook is seeing is the hidden natural order in things. This is what makes him different from other cooks. He works with the way the world is rather than by attempting to force his will on it. Our egos, desires, and limited knowledge lead us to see what we are looking for rather than what really is. This is also known a “projection.” By telling us to pause and allow things to be as they are the cook is providing a way (dao) to see the true nature of things.

This dao is seen in the fact that when the cook encounters difficulty he does not force his way. Rather he pauses and takes takes small, slow moments to great results. In this way the natural order of things (Tian) works its way and it is as if the ox butchers itself.

After this we meet a one-footed man from heaven, a pheasant, and are taught a lesson in how to mourn.

Zhuangzi, Inner Chapters, C. 3

James Legge, trans.

1. There is a limit to our life, but to knowledge there is no limit. With what is limited to pursue after what is unlimited is a perilous thing; and when, knowing this, we still seek the increase of our knowledge, the peril cannot be averted. There should not be the practice of what is good with any thought of the fame (which it will bring), nor of what is evil with any approximation to the punishment (which it will incur): an accordance with the Central Element (of our nature) is the regular way to preserve the body, to maintain the life, to nourish our parents, and to complete our term of years.

2. His cook was cutting up an ox for the ruler Wen Hui. Whenever he applied his hand, leaned forward with his shoulder, planted his foot, and employed the pressure of his knee, in the audible ripping off of the skin, and slicing operation of the knife, the sounds were all in regular cadence. Movements and sounds proceeded as in the dance of ‘the Mulberry Forest’ and the blended notes of the King Shou.’ The ruler said, ‘Ah! Admirable! That your art should have become so perfect!’ (Having finished his operation), the cook laid down his knife, and replied to the remark, ‘What your servant loves is the method of the Dao, something in advance of any art. When I first began to cut up an ox, I saw nothing but the (entire) carcase. After three years I ceased to see it as a whole. Now I deal with it in a spirit-like manner, and do not look at it with my eyes. The use of my senses is discarded, and my spirit acts as it wills. Observing the natural lines, (my knife) slips through the great crevices and slides through the great cavities, taking advantage of the facilities thus presented. My art avoids the membranous ligatures, and much more the great bones. A good cook changes his knife every year; (it may have been injured) in cutting – an ordinary cook changes his every month – (it may have been) broken. Now my knife has been in use for nineteen years; it has cut up several thousand oxen, and yet its edge is as sharp as if it had newly come from the whetstone. There are the interstices of the joints, and the edge of the knife has no (appreciable) thickness; when that which is so thin enters where the interstice is, how easily it moves along! The blade has more than room enough. Nevertheless, whenever I come to a complicated joint, and see that there will be some difficulty, I proceed anxiously and with caution, not allowing my eyes to wander from the place, and moving my hand slowly. Then by a very slight movement of the knife, the part is quickly separated, and drops like (a clod of) earth to the ground. Then standing up with the knife in my hand, I look all round, and in a leisurely manner, with an air of satisfaction, wipe it clean, and put it in its sheath.’ The ruler Wen Hui said, ‘Excellent! I have heard the words of my cook, and learned from them the nourishment of (our) life.’

3. When Gong-wen Xian saw the Master of the Left, he was startled, and said, ‘What sort of man is this? How is it he has but one foot? Is it from Heaven? or from Man?’ Then he added, ‘It must be from Heaven, and not from Man. Heaven’s making of this man caused him to have but one foot. In the person of man, each foot has its marrow. By this I know that his peculiarity is from Heaven, and not from Man.

4. A pheasant of the marshes has to take ten steps to pick up a mouthful of food, and thirty steps to get a drink, but it does not seek to be nourished in a coop. Though its spirit would (there) enjoy a royal abundance, it does not think (such confinement) good.’

5. When Lao Dan died, Qin Shi went to condole (with his son), but after crying out three times, he came out. The disciples said to him, ‘Were you not a friend of the Master?’ ‘I was,’ he replied, and they said, ‘Is it proper then to offer your condolences merely as you have done?’ He said, ‘It is. At first I thought he was the man of men, and now I do not think so. When I entered a little ago and expressed my condolences, there were the old men wailing as if they had lost a son, and the young men wailing as if they had lost their mother. In his attracting and uniting them to himself in such a way there must have been that which made them involuntarily express their words (of condolence), and involuntarily wail, as they were doing. And this was a hiding from himself of his Heaven (-nature), and an excessive indulgence of his (human) feelings; a forgetting of what he had received (in being born); what the ancients called the punishment due to neglecting the Heaven (-nature). When the Master came, it was at the proper time; when he went away, it was the simple sequence (of his coming). Quiet acquiescence in what happens at its proper time, and quietly submitting (to its ceasing) afford no occasion for grief or for joy. The ancients described (death) as the loosening of the cord on which God suspended (the life).

6. What we can point to are the faggots that have been consumed; but the fire is transmitted (elsewhere), and we know not that it is over and ended.

[Chapter 4 is omitted]

5. Chapter 5, Zhuangzi

Title in Chinese Characters:

德充符

Chapter Title Translations:

“Markers of Full Virtuosity” (Ziporyn)

“The Seal of Virtue Complete” (Legge)

“The signs of the fullness of power” (Graham)

Chapter 5 is full of amputees and other individuals who we would consider “disabled” in a variety of ways. Amputation was common punishment for crimes in China and, as can be seen for the text, these amputees are often shunned and despised because they are former criminals. People born with physical differences that led them to diverge from physical norms, were also often despised because they were seen as someone “unnatural.” However, in the Zhuangzi worldview, neither their criminality nor their amputations nor their physical deviations from the norm prevent them from following the Dao to de. One reason for this is that the Daoist notion of “natural” is much more expensive than what was typically held in ancient China. What we might call a “freak of nature” is just “nature.” Also, consider this in terms in terms of social norms of appearance and conduct. These are as fluid as physical norms. Yet, often, we are prejudiced against people who do not appear as our current social norms say they should appear if they are to be “handsome” or “beautiful.” We do the same when people deviate from behavioral norms.

Not only may such individuals not be “disabled” in their ability to find the way to virtuosity (the Dao to de), but they may be enabled by their apparent disadvantages. This is because, unable to do things that supposedly “able persons” can do, such differently abled persons can confront the world in ways that do not take for granted what this who fit social and physical norms simply assume. This allows them to see the world fresh, to allow it to be as it is, rather than try to fit it into the categories most people are conditioned to assume.

The text refers repeatedly to Confucius, sometimes calling him “Zhongni” and sometimes “Kong Qiu.” It also refers to “Lao Dan” who is Laozi, the reputed author of the Daodeching. Confucius plays a variety of roles in the Zhuangi. You have to determine from the context whether he is being criticized of whether he is being made into a mouth piece for the Dao.

When the Zhuangzi has Zhongni state, for example, ‘There is nothing so level as the surface of a pool of still water. It may serve as an example of what I mean. All within its circuit is preserved (in peace), and there comes to it no agitation from without. The virtuous efficacy is the perfect cultivation of the harmony (of the nature). Though the realisation of this be not manifested in the person, things cannot separate themselves (from its influence).’ He is clearly articulating a Daoist and not a Confucian perspective.

Zhuangzi, The Inner Chapters, C. 5

James Legge, trans.

1. In Lu there was a Wang Tai who had lost both his feet; while his disciples who followed and went about with him were as numerous as those of Zhongni. Chang Ji asked Zhongni about him, saying, ‘Though Wang Tai is a cripple, the disciples who follow him about divide Lu equally with you, Master. When he stands, he does not teach them; when he sits, he does not discourse to them. But they go to him empty, and come back full. Is there indeed such a thing as instruction without words? and while the body is imperfect, may the mind be complete? What sort of man is he?’ Zhongni replied, ‘This master is a sage. I have only been too late in going to him. I will make him my teacher; and how much more should those do so who are not equal to me! Why should only the state of Lu follow him? I will lead on all under heaven with me to do so.’

Chang Ji rejoined, ‘He is a man who has lost his feet, and yet he is known as the venerable Wang – he must be very different from ordinary men. What is the peculiar way in which he employs his mind?’ The reply was, ‘Death and life are great considerations, but they could work no change in him. Though heaven and earth were to be overturned and fall, they would occasion him no loss. His judgment is fixed regarding that in which there is no element of falsehood; and, while other things change, he changes not. The transformations of things are to him the developments prescribed for them, and he keeps fast hold of the author of them.’

Chang Ji said, ‘What do you mean?’ ‘When we look at things,’ said Zhongni, ‘as they differ, we see them to be different, (as for instance) the liver and the gall, or Chu and Yue; when we look at them, as they agree, we see them all to be a unity. So it is with this (Wang Tai). He takes no knowledge of the things for which his ears and eyes are the appropriate organs, but his mind delights itself in the harmony of (all excellent) qualities. He looks at the unity which belongs to things, and does not perceive where they have suffered loss. He looks on the loss of his feet as only the loss of so much earth.’

Chang Ji said, ‘He is entirely occupied with his (proper) self. By his knowledge he has discovered (the nature of) his mind, and to that he holds as what is unchangeable; but how is it that men make so much of him?’ The reply was, ‘Men do not look into running water as a mirror, but into still water – it is only the still water that can arrest them all, and keep them (in the contemplation of their real selves). Of things which are what they are by the influence of the earth, it is only the pine and cypress which are the best instances – in winter as in summer brightly green. Of those which were what they were by the influence of Heaven, the most correct examples were Yao and Shun; fortunate in (thus) maintaining their own life correct, and so as to correct the lives of others. As a verification of the (power of) the original endowment, when it has been preserved, take the result of fearlessness – how the heroic spirit of a single brave soldier has been thrown into an army of nine hosts. If a man only seeking for fame and able in this way to secure it can produce such an effect, how much more (may we look for a greater result) from one whose rule is over heaven and earth, and holds all things in his treasury, who simply has his lodging in the six members of his body, whom his ears and eyes serve but as conveying emblematic images of things, who comprehends all his knowledge in a unity, and whose mind never dies! If such a man were to choose a day on which he would ascend far on high, men would (seek to) follow him there. But how should he be willing to occupy himself with other men?’

2. Shen-tu Jia was (another) man who had lost his feet. Along with Zi-chan of Zheng he studied under the master Bo-hun Wu-ren. Zi-chan said to him (one day), ‘If I go out first, do you remain behind; and if you go out first, I will remain behind.’ Next day they were again sitting together on the same mat in the hall, when Zi-chan said (again), ‘If I go out first, do you remain behind; and if you go out first, I will remain behind. Now I am about to go out; will you stay behind or not? Moreover, when you see one of official rank (like myself), you do not try to get out of his way – do you consider yourself equal to one of official rank?’ Shen-tu Jia replied, ‘In our Master’s school is there indeed such recognition required of official rank? You are one, Sir, whose pleasure is in your official rank, and would therefore take precedence of other men. I have heard that when a mirror is bright, the dust does not rest on it; when dust rests on it the mirror is not bright. When one dwells long with a man of ability and virtue, he comes to be without error. There now is our teacher whom you have chosen to make you greater than you are; and when you still talk in this way, are you not in error?’ Zi-chan rejoined, ‘A (shattered) object as you are, you would still strive to make yourself out as good as Yao! If I may form an estimate of your virtue, might it not be sufficient to lead you to the examination of yourself?’ The other said, ‘Most criminals, in describing their offences, would make it out that they ought not to have lost (their feet) for them; few would describe them so as to make it appear that they should not have preserved their feet. They are only the virtuous who know that such a calamity was unavoidable, and therefore rest in it as what was appointed for them. When men stand before (an archer like) Yi with his bent bow, if they are in the middle of his field, that is the place where they should be hit; and if they be not hit, that also was appointed. There are many with their feet entire who laugh at me because I have lost my feet, which makes me feel vexed and angry. But when I go to our teacher, I throw off that feeling, and return (to a better mood) – he has washed, without my knowing it, the other from me by (his instructions in) what is good. I have attended him now for nineteen years, and have not known that I am without my feet. Now, you, Sir, and I have for the object of our study the (virtue) which is internal, and not an adjunct of the body, and yet you are continually directing your attention to my external body – are you not wrong in this?’ Zi-chan felt uneasy, altered his manner and looks, and said, ‘You need not, Sir, say anything more about it.’

3. In Lu there was a cripple, called Shu-shan the Toeless, who came on his heels to see Zhongni. Zhongni said to him, ‘By your want of circumspection in the past, Sir, you have incurred such a calamity; of what use is your coming to me now?’ Toeless said, ‘Through my ignorance of my proper business and taking too little care of my body, I came to lose my feet. But now I am come to you, still possessing what is more honourable than my feet, and which therefore I am anxious to preserve entire. There is nothing which Heaven does not cover, and nothing which Earth does not sustain; you, Master, were regarded by me as doing the part of Heaven and Earth – how could I know that you would receive me in such a way?’ Confucius rejoined, ‘I am but a poor creature. But why, my master, do you not come inside, where I will try to tell you what I have learned?’ When Toeless had gone out, Confucius said, ‘Be stimulated to effort, my disciples. This toeless cripple is still anxious to learn to make up for the evil of his former conduct;– how much more should those be so whose conduct has been unchallenged!’ Mr. Toeless, however, told Lao Dan (of the interview), saying, ‘Kong Qiu, I apprehend, has not yet attained to be a Perfect man. What has he to do with keeping a crowd of disciples around him? He is seeking to have the reputation of being an extraordinary and marvellous man, and does not know that the Perfect man considers this to be as handcuffs and fetters to him.’ Lao Dan said, ‘Why did you not simply lead him to see the unity of life and death, and that the admissible and inadmissible belong to one category, so freeing him from his fetters? Would this be possible?’ Toeless said, ‘It is the punishment inflicted on him by Heaven. How can he be freed from it?’

4. [omitted]

5. A person who had no lips, whose legs were bent so that he could only walk on his toes, and who was (otherwise) deformed, addressed his counsels to duke Ling of Wei, who was so pleased with him, that he looked on a perfectly formed man as having a lean and small neck in comparison with him. Another who had a large goitre like an earthenware jar addressed his counsels to duke Huan of Qi, who was so pleased with him that he looked on a perfectly formed man as having a neck lean and small in comparison with him. So it is that when one’s virtue is extraordinary, (any deficiency in) his bodily form may be forgotten. When men do not forget what is (easily) forgotten, and forget what is not (easily) forgotten, we have a case of real oblivion. Therefore the sagely man has that in which his mind finds its enjoyment, and (looks on) wisdom as (but) the shoots from an old stump; agreements with others are to him but so much glue ; kindnesses are (but the arts of) intercourse; and great skill is (but as) merchants’ wares. The sagely man lays no plans; of what use would wisdom be to him? He has no cutting and hacking to do; of what use would glue be to him? He has lost nothing; of what use would arts of intercourse be to him? He has no goods to dispose of; what need has he to play the merchant? (The want of) these four things are the nourishment of (his) Heavenly (nature); that nourishment is its Heavenly food. Since he receives this food from Heaven, what need has he for anything of man’s (devising)? He has the bodily form of man, but not the passions and desires of (other) men. He has the form of man, and therefore he is a man. Being without the passions and desires of men, their approvings and disapprovings are not to be found in him. How insignificant and small is (the body) by which he belongs to humanity! How grand and great is he in the unique perfection of his Heavenly (nature)!

6. Huizi said to Zhuangzi, ‘Can a man indeed be without desires and passions?’ The reply was, ‘He can.’ ‘But on what grounds do you call him a man, who is thus without passions and desires?’ Zhuangzi said, ‘The Dao gives him his personal appearance (and powers); Heaven gives him his bodily form; how should we not call him a man?’ Huizi rejoined, ‘Since you call him a man, how can he be without passions and desires?’ The reply was, ‘You are misunderstanding what I mean by passions and desires. What I mean when I say that he is without these is, that this man does not by his likings and dislikings do any inward harm to his body – he always pursues his course without effort, and does not (try to) increase his (store of) life.’ Huizi rejoined, ‘If there were not that increasing of (the amount) of life, how would he get his body?’ Zhuangzi said, ‘The Dao gives him his personal appearance (and powers); Heaven gives him his bodily form; and he does not by his likings and dislikings do any internal harm to his body. But now you, Sir, deal with your spirit as if it were something external to you, and subject your vital powers to toil. You sing (your ditties), leaning against a tree; you go to sleep, grasping the stump of a rotten dryandra tree. Heaven selected for you the bodily form (of a man), and you babble about what is strong and what is white.’

6. Chapter 6, Zhuangzi

大宗師

Chapter Title Translations:

“The Great Source as Teacher” (Ziporyn)

“The Great and Most Honoured Master” (Legge)

“The teacher who is the ultimate ancestor” (Graham)

Chapter 6 of the Zhuangzi begins with brief return to the issue of knowledge. Then, after asserting that “true knowledge” is a product of the perspective of the “true man,” it proceeds with an exposition of the “true men of old.” (Ziporyn uses the phrase “genuine human being” rather than “true man.”) The “genuine human being” or the “true men of old” are marked by, among other things, their indifference to many of the things that worry most human beings in their quotidian existence.^[12]

What are some things that are important to you, that you worry about, that you think you know, that, are not actually important, that you need not or should not worry about (perhaps because you cannot change them), that you do not actually know? How would becoming indifferent to such things change your life? What would you gain and what would you lose?

After this the Zhuangzi discusses life, death, and the changing body. One of the themes of the Inner Chapters is the inevitability of the transformations of the body and the fact that among those transformations is death.

“He [the genuine human being] considers early death or old age, his beginning and his ending, all to be good, and in this other men imitate him; how much more will they do so in regard to That Itself on which all things depend, and from which every transformation arises!”

The “That Itself” here is Tian/Heaven or the true order of the constantly transforming universe.

How do you try to resist the inevitable changes that occur in your life? With regard to such changes when is resistance futile? How can you work in to accommodate or employ such changes as a creative ans expansive force in your life?

This then is followed by accounts of conversations regarding how to approach disease and the fact of death. In all cases the theme is one of acceptance of what is rather than a useless protest against what one cannot change. Throughout this section there are repeated passages that commend not following the strict observance of ritual that is key to Confucianism. Confucianism is presented as an attempt to hold onto that which we cannot hold on to.

One of the themes philosophers return to again and again is “being unto death.”^[13] It is often claimed by non-philosophers as well as philosophers, that one of the unique things about human beings is our awareness that at some point I will die. For the most part you do not how you will die or when you will die but you will die. How do you face the prospect of your death? Do you ignore it? Do you not think about it? Does it cause you fear? Does it bring you joy?

Part of thinking about death is also thinking about the ways we try to deny death. Some religions teach personal spiritual immortality. But what would it be like to continue as a spirit without your body? (Try to imagine this!) For others there is a struggle to extend life and perhaps find physical immortality. To live forever! As a society we devote extraordinary amounts of money and effort to keeping people alive as long as possible.

Is all of this worth the cost and effort? Is there ever a time when it is appropriate to allow oneself to die? What if you were to find out you are going to die tomorrow? Are you content with this?

What is the Zhuangzi perspective on these things?

Zhuangzi, The Inner Chapters, C. 6

James Legge, trans.

1. He who knows the part which the Heavenly (in him) plays, and knows (also) that which the Human (in him ought to) play, has reached the perfection (of knowledge). He who knows the part which the Heavenly plays (knows) that it is naturally born with him; he who knows the part which the Human ought to play (proceeds) with the knowledge which he possesses to nourish it in the direction of what he does not (yet) know: to complete one’s natural term of years and not come to an untimely end in the middle of his course is the fulness of knowledge. Although it be so, there is an evil (attending this condition). Such knowledge still awaits the confirmation of it as correct; it does so because it is not yet determined. How do we know that what we call the Heavenly (in us) is not the Human? and that what we call the Human is not the Heavenly? There must be the True man, and then there is the True knowledge.

What is meant by ‘the True Man?’ The True men of old did not reject (the views of) the few; they did not seek to accomplish (their ends) like heroes (before others); they did not lay plans to attain those ends. Being such, though they might make mistakes, they had no occasion for repentance; though they might succeed, they had no self-complacency. Being such, they could ascend the loftiest heights without fear; they could pass through water without being made wet by it; they could go into fire without being burnt; so it was that by their knowledge they ascended to and reached the Dao.

The True men of old did not dream when they slept, had no anxiety when they awoke, and did not care that their food should be pleasant. Their breathing came deep and silently. The breathing of the true man comes (even) from his heels, while men generally breathe (only) from their throats. When men are defeated in argument, their words come from their gullets as if they were vomiting. Where lusts and desires are deep, the springs of the Heavenly are shallow.

The True men of old knew nothing of the love of life or of the hatred of death. Entrance into life occasioned them no joy; the exit from it awakened no resistance. Composedly they went and came. They did not forget what their beginning bad been, and they did not inquire into what their end would be. They accepted (their life) and rejoiced in it; they forgot (all fear of death), and returned (to their state before life). Thus there was in them what is called the want of any mind to resist the Dao, and of all attempts by means of the Human to assist the Heavenly. Such were they who are called the True men. Being such, their minds were free from all thought; their demeanour was still and unmoved; their foreheads beamed simplicity. Whatever coldness came from them was like that of autumn; whatever warmth came from them was like that of spring. Their joy and anger assimilated to what we see in the four seasons. They did in regard to all things what was suitable, and no one could know how far their action would go. Therefore the sagely man might, in his conduct of war, destroy a state without losing the hearts of the people; his benefits and favours might extend to a myriad generations without his being a lover of men. Hence he who tries to share his joys with others is not a sagely man; he who manifests affection is not benevolent; he who observes times and seasons (to regulate his conduct) is not a man of wisdom; he to whom profit and injury are not the same is not a superior man; he who acts for the sake of the name of doing so, and loses his (proper) self is not the (right) scholar; and he who throws away his person in a way which is not the true (way) cannot command the service of others. Such men as Hu Bu-jie, Wu Guang, Bo-yi, Shu-Qi, the count of Ji, Xu-yu, Ji Ta, and Shen-tu Di, all did service for other men, and sought to secure for them what they desired, not seeking their own pleasure.

The True men of old presented the aspect of judging others aright, but without being partisans; of feeling their own insufficiency, but being without flattery or cringing. Their peculiarities were natural to them, but they were not obstinately attached to them; their humility was evident, but there was nothing of unreality or display about it. Their placidity and satisfaction had the appearance of joy; their every movement seemed to be a necessity to them. Their accumulated attractiveness drew men’s looks to them; their blandness fixed men’s attachment to their virtue. They seemed to accommodate themselves to the (manners of their age), but with a certain severity; their haughty indifference was beyond its control. Unceasing seemed their endeavours to keep (their mouths) shut; when they looked down, they had forgotten what they wished to say. They considered punishments to be the substance (of government, and they never incurred it); ceremonies to be its supporting wings (and they always observed them); wisdom (to indicate) the time (for action, and they always selected it); and virtue to be accordance (with others), and they were all-accordant. Considering punishments to be the substance (of government), yet their generosity appeared in the (manner of their) infliction of death. Considering ceremonies to be its supporting wings, they pursued by means of them their course in the world. Considering wisdom to indicate the time (for action), they felt it necessary to employ it in (the direction of) affairs. Considering virtue to be accordance (with others), they sought to ascend its height along with all who had feet (to climb it). (Such were they), and yet men really thought that they did what they did by earnest effort. In this way they were one and the same in all their likings and dislikings. Where they liked, they were the same; where they did not like, they were the same. In the former case where they liked, they were fellow-workers with the Heavenly (in them); in the latter where they disliked, they were co-workers with the Human in them. The one of these elements (in their nature) did not overcome the other. Such were those who are called the True men.

2. Death and life are ordained, just as we have the constant succession of night and day – in both cases from Heaven. Men have no power to do anything in reference to them – such is the constitution of things. There are those who specially regard Heaven as their father, and they still love It (distant as It is); how much more should they love That which stands out (Superior and Alone)! Some specially regard their ruler as superior to themselves, and will give their bodies to die for him; how much more should they do so for That which is their true (Ruler)! When the springs are dried up, the fishes collect together on the land. Than that they should moisten one another there by the damp about them, and keep one another wet by their slime, it would be better for them to forget one another in the rivers and lakes. And when men praise Yao and condemn Jie, it would be better to forget them both, and seek the renovation of the Dao.

There is the great Mass (of nature) – I find the support of my body on it; my life is spent in toil on it; my old age seeks ease on it; at death I find rest in it – what makes my life a good makes my death also a good. If you hide away a boat in the ravine of a hill, and hide away the hill in a lake, you will say that (the boat) is secure; but at midnight there shall come a strong man and carry it off on his back, while you in the dark know nothing about it. You may hide away anything, whether small or great, in the most suitable place, and yet it shall disappear from it. But if you could hide the world in the world, so that there was nowhere to which it could be removed, this would be the grand reality of the ever-during Thing. When the body of man comes from its special mould, there is even then occasion for joy; but this body undergoes a myriad transformations, and does not immediately reach its perfection; does it not thus afford occasion for joys incalculable? Therefore the sagely man enjoys himself in that from which there is no possibility of separation, and by which all things are preserved. He considers early death or old age, his beginning and his ending, all to be good, and in this other men imitate him; how much more will they do so in regard to That Itself on which all things depend, and from which every transformation arises!

3. This is the Dao; there is in It emotion and sincerity, but It does nothing and has no bodily form. It may be handed down (by the teacher), but may not be received (by his scholars). It may be apprehended (by the mind), but It cannot be seen. It has Its root and ground (of existence) in Itself. Before there were heaven and earth, from of old, there It was, securely existing. From It came the mysterious existences of spirits, from It the mysterious existence of God. It produced heaven; It produced earth. It was before the Tai-ji, and yet could not be considered high; It was below all space, and yet could not be considered deep. It was produced before heaven and earth, and yet could not be considered to have existed long; It was older than the highest antiquity, and yet could not be considered old. Shi-wei got It, and by It adjusted heaven and earth. Fu-xi got It, and by It penetrated to the mystery of the maternity of the primary matter. The Wei-dou got It, and from all antiquity has made no eccentric movement. The Sun and Moon got It, and from all antiquity have not intermitted (their bright shining). Kan-pei got It, and by It became lord of Kun-lun. Feng-yi got It, and by It enjoyed himself in the Great River. Jian-wu got It, and by It dwelt on mount Tai. Huang-di got It, and by It ascended the cloudy sky. Zhuan-xu got It, and by It dwelt in the Dark Palace. Yu-jiang got It, and by It was set on the North Pole. Xi Wang-mu got It, and by It had her seat in (the palace of) Shao-guang. No one knows Its beginning; no one knows Its end. Peng Zu got It, and lived on from the time of the lord of Yu to that of the Five Chiefs. Fu Yue got It, and by It became chief minister to Wu-ding, (who thus) in a trice became master of the kingdom. (After his death), Fu Yue mounted to the eastern portion of the Milky Way, where, riding on Sagittarius and Scorpio, he took his place among the stars.

4. Nan-bo Zi-kui asked Nu Yu, saying, ‘You are old, Sir, while your complexion is like that of a child; how is it so?’ The reply was, ‘I have become acquainted with the Dao.’ The other said, ‘Can I learn the Dao?’ Nu Yu said, ‘No. How can you? You, Sir, are not the man to do so. There was Bu-liang Yi who had the abilities of a sagely man, but not the Dao, while I had the Dao, but not the abilities. I wished, however, to teach him, if, peradventure, he might become the sagely man indeed. If he should not do so, it was easy (I thought) for one possessing the Dao of the sagely man to communicate it to another possessing his abilities. Accordingly, I proceeded to do so, but with deliberation. After three days, he was able to banish from his mind all worldly (matters). This accomplished, I continued my intercourse with him in the same way; and in seven days he was able to banish from his mind all thought of men and things. This accomplished, and my instructions continued, after nine days, he was able to count his life as foreign to himself. This accomplished, his mind was afterwards clear as the morning; and after this he was able to see his own individuality. That individuality perceived, he was able to banish all thought of Past or Present. Freed from this, he was able to penetrate to (the truth that there is no difference between) life and death – (how) the destruction of life is not dying, and the communication of other life is not living. (The Dao) is a thing which accompanies all other things and meets them, which is present when they are overthrown and when they obtain their completion. Its name is Tranquillity amid all Disturbances, meaning that such Disturbances lead to Its Perfection.’

‘And how did you, being alone (without any teacher), learn all this?’ ‘I learned it,’ was the reply, ‘from the son of Fu-mo; he learned it from the grandson of Luo-song; he learned it from Zhan-ming; he learned it from Nie-xu; he, from Xu-yu; he, from Ou; he, from Xuan-ming; he, from Shen-liao; and he learned it from Yi-shi.

Zhongni said, ‘Once when I was sent on a mission to Qi, I saw some pigs sucking at their dead mother. After a little they looked with rapid glances, when they all left her, and ran away. They felt that she did not see them, and that she was no longer like themselves. What they had loved in their mother was not her bodily figure, but what had given animation to her figure. When a man dies in battle, they do not at his interment employ the usual appendages of plumes: as to supplying shoes to one who has lost his feet, there is no reason why he should care for them – in neither case is there the proper reason for their use. The members of the royal harem do not pare their nails nor pierce their ears; when a man is newly married, he remains (for a time) absent from his official duties, and unoccupied with them. That their bodies might be perfect was sufficient to make them thus dealt with; how much greater results should be expected from men whose mental gifts are perfect! This Ai-tai Tuo was believed by men, though he did not speak a word; and was loved by them, though he did no special service for them. He made men appoint him to the government of their states, afraid only that he would not accept the appointment. He must have been a man whose powers were perfect, though his realisation of them was not manifested in his person.

5. Zi-si, Zi-yu, Zi-li, and Zi-lai, these four men, were talking together, when someone said, ‘Who can suppose the head to be made from nothing, the spine from life, and the rump-bone from death? Who knows how death and birth, living on and disappearing, compose the one body? I would be friends with him.’ The four men looked at one another and laughed, but no one seized with his mind the drift of the questions. All, however, were friends together. Not long after Zi-yu fell ill, and Zi-si went to inquire for him. ‘How great,’ said (the sufferer), ‘is the Creator! That He should have made me the deformed object that I am!’ He was a crooked hunchback; his five viscera were squeezed into the upper part of his body; his chin bent over his navel; his shoulder was higher than his crown; on his crown was an ulcer pointing to the sky; his breath came and went in gasps: yet he was easy in his mind, and made no trouble of his condition. He limped to a well, looked at himself in it, and said, ‘Alas that the Creator should have made me the deformed object that I am!’ Si said, ‘Do you dislike your condition?’ He replied, ‘No, why should I dislike it? If He were to transform my left arm into a cock, I should be watching with it the time of the night; if He were to transform my right arm into a cross-bow, I should then be looking for a Xiao to (bring down and) roast; if He were to transform my rump-bone into a wheel, and my spirit into a horse, I should then be mounting it, and would not change it for another steed. Moreover, when we have got (what we are to do), there is the time (of life) in which to do it; when we lose that (at death), submission (is what is required). When we rest in what the time requires, and manifest that submission, neither joy nor sorrow can find entrance (to the mind). This would be what the ancients called loosing the cord by which (the life) is suspended. But one hung up cannot loose himself;– he is held fast by his bonds. And that creatures cannot overcome Heaven (the inevitable) is a long-acknowledged fact – why should I hate my condition?’

Before long Zi-lai fell ill, and lay gasping at the point of death, while his wife and children stood around him wailing. Zi-li went to ask for him, and said to them, ‘Hush! Get out of the way! Do not disturb him as he is passing through his change.’ Then, leaning against the door, he said (to the dying man), ‘Great indeed is the Creator! What will He now make you to become? Where will He take you to? Will He make you the liver of a rat, or the arm of an insect? Zi-lai replied, ‘Wherever a parent tells a son to go, east, west, south, or north, he simply follows the command. The Yin and Yang are more to a man than his parents are. If they are hastening my death, and I do not quietly submit to them, I shall be obstinate and rebellious. There is the great Mass (of nature);– I find the support of my body in it; my life is spent in toil on it; my old age seeks ease on it; at death I find rest on it: what has made my life a good will make my death also a good. Here now is a great founder, casting his metal. If the metal were to leap up (in the pot), and say, “I must be made into a (sword like the) Mo-ye,” the great founder would be sure to regard it as uncanny. So, again, when a form is being fashioned in the mould of the womb, if it were to say, “I must become a man; I must become a man,” the Creator would be sure to regard it as uncanny. When we once understand that heaven and earth are a great melting-pot, and the Creator a great founder, where can we have to go to that shall not be right for us? We are born as from a quiet sleep, and we die to a calm awaking.’

6. Zi-sang Hu, Meng Zi-fan, and Zi-qin Zhang, these three men, were friends together. (One of them said), ‘Who can associate together without any (thought of) such association, or act together without any (evidence of) such co-operation? Who can mount up into the sky and enjoy himself amidst the mists, disporting beyond the utmost limits (of things), and forgetting all others as if this were living, and would have no end?’ The three men looked at one another and laughed, not perceiving the drift of the questions; and they continued to associate together as friends. Suddenly, after a time, Zi-sang Hu died. Before he was buried, Confucius heard of the event, and sent Zi-gong to go and see if he could render any assistance. One of the survivors had composed a ditty, and the other was playing on his lute. Then they sang together in unison,

‘Ah! come, Sang Hu! ah! come, Sang Hu!

Your being true you’ve got again,

While we, as men, still here remain

Ohone!’

Zi-gong hastened forward to them, and said, ‘I venture to ask whether it be according to the rules to be singing thus in the presence of the corpse?’ The two men looked at each other, and laughed, saying, ‘What does this man know about the idea that underlies (our) rules?’ Zi-gong returned to Confucius, and reported to him, saying, ‘What sort of men are those? They had made none of the usual preparations, and treated the body as a thing foreign to them. They were singing in the presence of the corpse, and there was no change in their countenances. I cannot describe them; what sort of men are they?’ Confucius replied, ‘Those men occupy and enjoy themselves in what is outside the (common) ways (of the world), while I occupy and enjoy myself in what lies within those ways. There is no common ground for those of such different ways; and when I sent you to condole with those men, I was acting stupidly. They, moreover, make man to be the fellow of the Creator, and seek their enjoyment in the formless condition of heaven and earth. They consider life to be an appendage attached, an excrescence annexed to them, and death to be a separation of the appendage and a dispersion of the contents of the excrescence. With these views, how should they know wherein death and life are to be found, or what is first and what is last? They borrow different substances, and pretend that the common form of the body is composed of them. They dismiss the thought of (its inward constituents like) the liver and gall, and (its outward constituents), the ears and eyes. Again and again they end and they begin, having no knowledge of first principles. They occupy themselves ignorantly and vaguely with what (they say) lies outside the dust and dirt (of the world), and seek their enjoyment in the business of doing nothing. How should they confusedly address themselves to the ceremonies practised by the common people, and exhibit themselves as doing so to the ears and eyes of the multitude?’

Zi-gong said, ‘Yes, but why do you, Master, act according to the (common) ways (of the world)?’ The reply was, ‘I am in this under the condemning sentence of Heaven. Nevertheless, I will share with you (what I have attained to).’ Zi-gong rejoined, ‘I venture to ask the method which you pursue;’ and Confucius said, ‘Fishes breed and grow in the water; man developes in the Dao. Growing in the water, the fishes cleave the pools, and their nourishment is supplied to them. Developing in the Dao, men do nothing, and the enjoyment of their life is secured. Hence it is said, “Fishes forget one another in the rivers and lakes; men forget one another in the arts of the Dao.”‘

Zi-gong said, ‘I venture to ask about the man who stands aloof from others.’ The reply was, ‘He stands aloof from other men, but he is in accord with Heaven! Hence it is said, “The small man of Heaven is the superior man among men; the superior man among men is the small man of Heaven!”‘

7. Yan Hui asked Zhongni, saying, ‘When the mother of Meng-sun Cai died, in all his wailing for her he did not shed a tear; in the core of his heart he felt no distress; during all the mourning rites, he exhibited no sorrow. Without these three things, he (was considered to have) discharged his mourning well; is it that in the state of Lu one who has not the reality may yet get the reputation of having it? I think the matter very strange.’ Zhongni said, ‘That Meng-sun carried out (his views) to the utmost. He was advanced in knowledge; but (in this case) it was not possible for him to appear to be negligent (in his ceremonial observances)’, but he succeeded in being really so to himself. Meng-sun does not know either what purposes life serves, or what death serves; he does not know which should be first sought, and which last. If he is to be transformed into something else, he will simply await the transformation which he does not yet know. This is all he does. And moreover, when one is about to undergo his change, how does he know that it has not taken place? And when he is not about to undergo his change, how does he know that it has taken place? Take the case of me and you: are we in a dream from which we have not begun to awake? Moreover, Meng-sun presented in his body the appearance of being agitated, but in his mind he was conscious of no loss. The death was to him like the issuing from one’s dwelling at dawn, and no (more terrible) reality. He was more awake than others were. When they wailed, he also wailed, having in himself the reason why he did so. And we all have our individuality which makes us what we are as compared together; but how do we know that we determine in any case correctly that individuality? Moreover you dream that you are a bird, and seem to be soaring to the sky; or that you are a fish, and seem to be diving in the deep. But you do not know whether we that are now speaking are awake or in a dream. It is not the meeting with what is pleasurable that produces the smile; it is not the smile suddenly produced that produces the arrangement (of the person). When one rests in what has been arranged, and puts away all thought of the transformation, he is in unity with the mysterious Heaven.’

8. Yi-er Zi having gone to see Xu You, the latter said to him, ‘What benefit have you received from Yao?’ The reply was, ‘Yao says to me, You must yourself labour at benevolence and righteousness, and be able to tell clearly which is right and which wrong (in conflicting statements).’ Xu You rejoined, ‘Why then have you come to me? Since Yao has put on you the brand of his benevolence and righteousness, and cut off your nose with his right and wrong, how will you be able to wander in the way of aimless enjoyment, of unregulated contemplation, and the ever-changing forms (of dispute)?’ Yi-er Zi said, ‘That may be; but I should like to skirt along its hedges.’ ‘But,’ said the other, ‘it cannot be. Eyes without pupils can see nothing of the beauty of the eyebrows, eyes, and other features; the blind have nothing to do with the green, yellow, and variegated colours of the sacrificial robes.’ Yi-er Zi rejoined, ‘Yet, when Wu-zhuang lost his beauty, Ju-liang his strength, and Huang-Di his wisdom, they all (recovered them) under the moulding (of your system) – how do you know that the Maker will not obliterate the marks of my branding, and supply my dismemberment, so that, again perfect in my form, I may follow you as my teacher?’ Xu You said, ‘Ah! that cannot yet be known. I will tell you the rudiments. 0 my Master! 0 my Master! He gives to all things their blended qualities, and does not count it any righteousness; His favours reach to all generations, and He does not count it any benevolence; He is more ancient than the highest antiquity, and does not count Himself old; He overspreads heaven and supports the earth; He carves and fashions all bodily forms, and does not consider it any act of skill;– this is He in whom I find my enjoyment.’

9. Yan Hui said, ‘I am making progress.’ Zhongni replied, ‘What do you mean?’ ‘I have ceased to think of benevolence and righteousness,’ was the reply. ‘Very well; but that is not enough.’ Another day, Hui again saw Zhongni, and said, ‘I am making progress.’ ‘What do you mean?’ ‘I have lost all thought of ceremonies and music.’ ‘Very well, but that is not enough.’ A third day, Hui again saw (the Master), and said, ‘I am making progress.’ ‘What do you mean?’ ‘I sit and forget everything.’ Zhongni changed countenance, and said, ‘What do you mean by saying that you sit and forget (everything)?’ Yan Hui replied, ‘My connexion with the body and its parts is dissolved; my perceptive organs are discarded. Thus, leaving my material form, and bidding farewell to my knowledge, I am become one with the Great Pervader. This I call sitting and forgetting all things.’ Zhongni said, ‘One (with that Pervader), you are free from all likings; so transformed, you are become impermanent. You have, indeed, become superior to me! I must ask leave to follow in your steps.’

10. Zi-yu and Zi-sang were friends. (Once), when it had rained continuously for ten days, Zi-yu said, ‘I fear that Zi-sang may be in distress.’ So, he wrapped up some rice, and went to give it to him to eat. When he came to Zi-sang’s door, there issued from it sounds between singing and wailing; a lute was struck, and there came the words, ‘0 Father! 0 Mother! 0 Heaven! 0 Men!’ The voice could not sustain itself, and the line was hurriedly pronounced. Zi-yu entered and said, ‘Why are you singing, Sir, this line of poetry in such a way?’ The other replied, ‘I was thinking, and thinking in vain, how it was that I was brought to such extremity. Would my parents have wished me to be so poor? Heaven overspreads all without any partial feeling, and so does Earth sustain all; Would Heaven and Earth make me so poor with any unkindly feeling? I was trying to find out who had done it, and I could not do so. But here I am in this extremity – it is what was appointed for me!’

7. Chapter 7, Zhuangzi

應帝王

Chapter Title Translations:

“Sovereign Responses for Ruling Powers” (Ziporyn)

“The Normal Course for Rulers and Kings” (Legge)

“Responding to the Emperors and Kings” (Graham)

Chapter 7 of the Zhuangzi can be read as tying together much of what is in the preceding chapters. It starts with a reflection on the relation between. knowledge, “zhi”, benevolence, “ren”, and virtue or virtuosity, “ren”, by contrasting those who follow Confucian “ren” with those who “sleep contentedly.” The next section contrasts “hypocrisy of virtue” of the “shame virtuosity” those who lead by example with those do not rule anything other than themselves. Ziporyn translates this, “To rule the world is like trying to carve a river out of an ocean….”

This is the notion of becoming “like a clod of earth.” In Daoism this is the notion of wu wei, 無爲. Ziporyn translates this as “not being, not doing.” Legge, in Section 6 below, as“non-action. Graham translates it as “doing nothing.”

“ … the perfect man [Ziporyn: consummate person”] employs his mind, it is a mirror. It conducts nothing and anticipates nothing; it responds to (what is before it), but does not retain it. Thus, he is able to deal successfully with all things, and injures none.”

What does it mean to make the mind like a mirror? (Suggestion, think about the difference between a mirror and an eye.)

Can you live a life of wu wei? How would such a life be different from your current life? What would you gain? What would you lose? What of what you would lose is, from the Zhuangzi perspective, is a genuine loss?

In thinking about both of these questions, use what you have learned from the whole of the Zuangzi as you have read it and come to understand it.

Zhuangzi, The Inner Chapters, C. 7

James Legge, trans.

1. Nie Que put four questions to Wang Ni, not one of which did he know (how to answer). On this Nie Que leaped up, and in great delight walked away and informed Yu-yi Zi of it, who said to him, ‘Do you (only) now know [“zhi”] it?’ He of the line of Yu was not equal to him of the line of Tai. He of Yu still kept in himself (the idea of) benevolence [“ren”] by which to constrain (the submission of) men; and he did win men, but he had not begun to proceed by what did not belong to him as a man. He of the line of Tai would sleep tranquilly, and awake in contented simplicity. He would consider himself now (merely) as a horse, and now (merely) as an ox. His knowledge [“zhi”] was real and untroubled by doubts; and his virtue [“de”] was very true: he had not begun to proceed by what belonged to him as a man.

2. Jian Wu went to see the mad (recluse), Jie-yu, who said to him, ‘What did Ri-Zhong Shi tell you?’ The reply was, ‘He told me that when rulers gave forth their regulations according to their own views and enacted righteous measures, no one would venture not to obey them, and all would be transformed.’ Jie-yu said, ‘That is but the hypocrisy of virtue. For the right ordering of the world it would be like trying to wade through the sea and dig through the ocean, or employing a mosquito to carry a mountain on its back. And when a sage is governing, does he govern men’s outward actions? He is (himself) correct, and so (his government) goes on; this is the simple and certain way by which he secures the success of his affairs. Think of the bird which flies high, to avoid being hurt by the dart on the string of the archer, and the little mouse which makes its hole deep under Shen-qiu to avoid the danger of being smoked or dug out; are (rulers) less knowing than these two little creatures?’

3. Tian Gen, rambling on the south of (mount) Yin, came to the neighbourhood of the Liao-water. Happening there to meet with the man whose name is not known, he put a question to him, saying, ‘I beg to ask what should be done in order to (carry on) the government of the world.’ The nameless man said, ‘Go away; you are a rude borderer. Why do you put to me a question for which you are unprepared? I would simply play the part of the Maker of (all) things. When wearied, I would mount on the bird of the light and empty air, proceed beyond the six cardinal points, and wander in the region of nonentity, to dwell in the wilderness of desert space. What method have you, moreover, for the government of the world that you (thus) agitate my mind?’ (Tian Gen), however, again asked the question, and the nameless man said, ‘Let your mind find its enjoyment in pure simplicity; blend yourself with (the primary) ether in idle indifference; allow all things to take their natural course; and admit no personal or selfish consideration – do this and the world will be governed.’

4. Yang Zi-ju, having an interview with Lao Dan, said to him, ‘Here is a man, alert and vigorous in responding to all matters, clearsighted and widely intelligent, and an unwearied student of the Dao – can he be compared to one of the intelligent kings?’ The reply was, ‘Such a man is to one of the intelligent kings but as the bustling underling of a court who toils his body and distresses his mind with his various contrivances. And moreover, it is the beauty of the skins of the tiger and leopard which makes men hunt them; the agility of the monkey, or (the sagacity of) the dog that catches the yak, which make men lead them in strings; but can one similarly endowed be compared to the intelligent kings?’ Yang Zi-ju looked discomposed and said, ‘I venture to ask you what the government of the intelligent kings is.’ Lao Dan replied, ‘In the governing of the intelligent kings, their services overspread all under the sky, but they did not seem to consider it as proceeding from themselves; their transforming influence reached to all things, but the people did not refer it to them with hope. No one could tell the name of their agency, but they made men and things be joyful in themselves. Where they took their stand could not be fathomed, and they found their enjoyment in (the realm of) nonentity.’

5. In Zheng there was a mysterious wizard called Ji-xian. He knew all about the deaths and births of men, their preservation and ruin, their misery and happiness, and whether their lives would be long or short, foretelling the year, the month, the decade and the day like a spirit. When the people of Kang saw him, they all ran out of his way. Liezi went to see him, and was fascinated by him. Returning, he told Hu-zi of his interview, and said, ‘I considered your doctrine, my master, to be perfect, but I have found another which is superior to it.’ Hu-zi replied, ‘I have communicated to you but the outward letter of my doctrine, and have not communicated its reality and spirit; and do you think that you are in possession of it? However many hens there be, if there be not the cock among them, how should they lay (real) eggs? When you confront the world with your doctrine, you are sure to show in your countenance (all that is in your mind), and so enable (this) man to succeed in interpreting your physiognomy. Try and come to me with him, that I may show myself to him.’

On the morrow, accordingly, Liezi came with the man and saw Hu-zi. When they went out, the wizard said, ‘Alas! your master is a dead man. He will not live;– not for ten days more! I saw something strange about him – I saw the ashes (of his life) all slaked with water!’ When Liezi reentered, he wept till the front of his jacket was wet with his tears, and told Hu-zi what the man had said. Hu-zi said, ‘I showed myself to him with the forms of (vegetation beneath) the earth. There were the sprouts indeed, but without (any appearance of) growth or regularity:– he seemed to see me with the springs of my (vital) power closed up. Try and come to me with him again.’

Next day, accordingly, Liezi brought the man again and saw Hu-zi. When they went out, the man said, ‘It is a fortunate thing for your master that he met with me. He will get better; he has all the signs of living! I saw the balance (of the springs of life) that had been stopped (inclining in his favour).’ Liezi went in, and reported these words to his master, who said, ‘I showed myself to him after the pattern of the earth (beneath the) sky. Neither semblance nor reality entered (into my exhibition), but the springs (of life) were issuing from beneath my feet;– he seemed to see me with the springs of vigorous action in full play. Try and come with him again.’

Next day Liezi came with the man again, and again saw Hu-zi with him. When they went out, the wizard said, ‘Your master is never the same. I cannot understand his physiognomy. Let him try to steady himself, and I will again view him.’ Liezi went in and reported this to Hu-zi, who said, ‘This time I showed myself to him after the pattern of the grand harmony (of the two elemental forces), with the superiority inclining to neither. He seemed to see me with the springs of (vital) power in equal balance. Where the water wheels about from (the movements of) a dugong, there is an abyss; where it does so from the arresting (of its course), there is an abyss; where it does so, and the water keeps flowing on, there is an abyss. There are nine abysses with their several names, and I have only exhibited three of them. Try and come with him again.’

Next day they came, and they again saw Hu-zi. But before he had settled himself in his position, the wizard lost himself and ran away. ‘Pursue him,’ said Hu-zi, and Liezi did so, but could not come up with him. He returned, and told Hu-zi, saying, ‘There is an end of him; he is lost; I could not find him.’ Hu-zi rejoined, ‘I was showing him myself after the pattern of what was before I began to come from my author. I confronted him with pure vacancy, and an easy indifference. He did not know what I meant to represent. Now he thought it was the idea of exhausted strength, and now that of an onward flow, and therefore he ran away.’

After this, Liezi considered that he had not yet begun to learn (his master’s doctrine). He returned to his house, and for three years did not go out. He did the cooking for his wife. He fed the pigs as if he were feeding men. He took no part or interest in occurring affairs. He put away the carving and sculpture about him, and returned to pure simplicity. Like a clod of earth he stood there in his bodily presence. Amid all distractions he was (silent) and shut up in himself. And in this way he continued to the end of his life.

6. Non-action (makes its exemplifier) the lord of all fame; non-action (serves him as) the treasury of all plans; non-action (fits him for) the burden of all offices; non-action (makes him) the lord of all wisdom. The range of his action is inexhaustible, but there is nowhere any trace of his presence. He fulfils all that he has received from Heaven, but he does not see that he was the recipient of anything. A pure vacancy (of all purpose) is what characterises him. When the perfect man employs his mind, it is a mirror. It conducts nothing and anticipates nothing; it responds to (what is before it), but does not retain it. Thus, he is able to deal successfully with all things, and injures none.

7. The Ruler of the Southern Ocean was Shu, the Ruler of the Northern Ocean was Hu, and the Ruler of the Centre was Chaos. Shu and Hu were continually meeting in the land of Chaos, who treated them very well. They consulted together how they might repay his kindness, and said, ‘Men all have seven orifices for the purpose of seeing, hearing, eating, and breathing, while this (poor) Ruler alone has not one. Let us try and make them for him.’ Accordingly, they dug one orifice in him every day; and at the end of seven days Chaos died.