Chapter 14. The Revolving of Heaven (Tian Yun)

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“Does Heaven revolve? Does Earth stand still? Do the sun and moon contend for their places? Who governs these? Who maintains their order? Who, in idleness, sets them in motion? Or is there some hidden mechanism that compels them? Or do they revolve of their own accord, unable to stop? Do clouds become rain? Does rain become clouds? Who causes this transformation? Who, in idleness, delights in bringing it about? The wind rises from the north, shifting west and east, wandering above. Who breathes it out? Who, in idleness, stirs it up? I dare to ask: what is the reason?”

Wu Xianzhao replied, “Come, let me tell you. Heaven has its Six Extremes and Five Constants. When rulers follow them, there is order; when they defy them, there is chaos. The affairs of the Nine Provinces are brought to completion, virtue is perfected, and its light shines upon the earth below. The whole world bears it up – this is called the Supreme Sovereign.”

The Grand Steward of Shang, Tang, asked Zhuangzi about benevolence. Zhuangzi said, “Tigers and wolves are benevolent.” Tang asked, “What do you mean?” Zhuangzi said, “Fathers and sons are mutually affectionate – how is this not benevolence?” Tang said, “May I ask about the highest benevolence?” Zhuangzi said, “The highest benevolence has no partiality.” Tang said, “I have heard that without partiality there is no love, and without love there is no filial piety. Is it acceptable to say that the highest benevolence is unfilial?”

Zhuangzi said, “Not so. The highest benevolence is sublime – filial piety is simply insufficient to describe it. This is not a criticism of filial piety; it is beyond it. When a traveler heading south reaches Ying, he cannot see Mount Ming to the north. Why? Because he is too far away. Thus I say: it is easy to be filial with reverence, but difficult with genuine love. It is easy to be filial with love, but difficult to forget one’s parents. It is easy to forget one’s parents, but difficult to make one’s parents forget oneself. It is easy to make one’s parents forget oneself, but difficult to forget the whole world as well. It is easy to forget the whole world, but difficult to make the whole world forget oneself. When virtue surpasses even Yao and Shun, and beneficence extends to ten thousand generations without the world knowing it, is there any need to sigh and speak of benevolence and filial piety? Filial piety, fraternal respect, benevolence, righteousness, loyalty, trustworthiness, integrity, and purity – these are all efforts of self-discipline that enslave one’s true nature. They are not worthy of praise. Therefore, the highest nobility discards all state honors; the highest wealth discards all national resources; the highest aspiration discards all fame and reputation. Thus the Way remains unchanging.”

Beimen Cheng asked the Yellow Emperor, “When Your Majesty performed the music of Xianchi in the wilderness of Dongting, at first I heard it and was afraid; hearing it again, I became weary; and at the end, I was bewildered – adrift and silent, unable to compose myself.”

The Emperor said, “You probably experienced just that! I played it in accordance with human affairs, verified it by Heaven, carried it out through ritual and righteousness, and established it in the Great Clarity. The supreme music first responds to human affairs, follows the principles of Heaven, proceeds through the Five Virtues, and accords with Nature. Then it harmonizes the four seasons and brings all things into perfect unity. The seasons rise in succession; all things follow in their growth. One flourish, one decline – the civil and military orders alternate. One clarity, one turbidity – the yin and yang blend in harmony, their flowing light forming the sound. When hibernating insects first stir, I startle them with thunder. Its end has no tail; its beginning has no head. One death, one life; one collapse, one rising – endlessly constant, yet nothing can be anticipated. That is why you were afraid.

Then I played it with the harmony of yin and yang, illuminated by the brightness of the sun and moon. Its sound could be short or long, soft or firm, changing yet unified, not bound by old conventions. In valleys it filled the valleys; in pits it filled the pits. Blocking the gaps, guarding the spirit, taking measure from things themselves. Its sound was expansive, its name lofty and bright. Thus ghosts and spirits guard their darkness; the sun, moon, and stars follow their courses. I halted it where there was an end, and let it flow where there was no limit. You wished to think it through but could not know it; to look for it but could not see it; to chase it but could not reach it. Standing aimlessly at the crossroads of the four voids, leaning against a withered wutong tree, you sighed: ‘My eyes are exhausted from what they wish to see; my strength is spent from what I wish to pursue. Since I cannot reach it, I give up!’ Your form filled with emptiness, and so you became yielding. You were yielding, and so you became weary.

Then I played it with the sound of no weariness, attuned to the mandate of Nature. It seemed to surge and grow together, a forest of joy without form, spread out without dragging, dark and silent. Moving without direction, dwelling in deep obscurity – some called it death, some called it life; some called it substance, some called it glory. Flowing, scattering, shifting, not bound by any constant tone. The world is suspicious of it and refers it to the sage. The sage is one who understands emotion and follows destiny. The heavenly mechanism is not activated, yet all the senses are complete. This is called Heavenly Music – wordless, yet the heart is pleased. Thus the Clan of Yan praised it: ‘Listen and you cannot hear its sound; look and you cannot see its form. It fills Heaven and Earth, enveloping the Six Extremes.’ You wished to hear it but had nothing to connect with, and so you were bewildered.

Music begins with fear, and fear brings awe. Then I followed it with weariness, and weariness brings retreat. Finally, it ends in bewilderment, and bewilderment brings simplicity. Simplicity brings the Way, and the Way can carry you along with it.”

Confucius traveled west to the state of Wei. Yan Yuan asked Shi Jin, “What do you think of my Master’s journey?” Shi Jin said, “Alas! Your Master will come to ruin!” Yan Yuan asked, “Why?” Shi Jin said, “Before a straw dog is presented at a sacrifice, it is kept in a bamboo basket, wrapped in embroidered cloth, and the ritual master fasts before escorting it. But once it has been presented, passersby trample its head and back, and firewood gatherers pick it up to burn. If someone were to pick it up again, place it back in the basket, wrap it in embroidered cloth, and then wander, dwell, and sleep beneath it, they would not only have bad dreams but surely be plagued by nightmares.

Now your Master takes the straw dogs of the ancient kings, already used and discarded, and gathers his disciples to wander, dwell, and sleep beneath them. Thus, in Song, a tree was cut down near him; in Wei, his tracks were erased; he was driven to distress in Shang and Zhou. Are these not nightmares? He was surrounded between Chen and Cai, went seven days without a cooked meal, with death and life as neighbors. Are these not night terrors?

For traveling on water, nothing is better than a boat; for traveling on land, nothing is better than a cart. Because a boat can travel on water, if one tries to push it on land, it will not move even a few paces in a lifetime. Are not ancient times and the present like water and land? Are not the states of Zhou and Lu like a boat and a cart? To try to practice the ways of Zhou in Lu today is like pushing a boat on land – labor without success, and surely bringing disaster upon oneself. He does not understand the transmission without fixed direction, which responds to things without exhaustion.

Have you not seen the well-sweep? When pulled, it bends down; when released, it rises up. It is pulled by people; it does not pull people. Thus, bending and rising, it gives no offense. Therefore, the rituals, righteousness, laws, and institutions of the Three Sovereigns and Five Emperors are not valued for being the same, but for bringing order. To compare the rituals and laws of the Three Sovereigns and Five Emperors – they are like hawthorns, pears, oranges, and pomelos: their flavors are opposite, yet all are pleasing to the palate. Thus, rituals, righteousness, laws, and institutions should change with the times.

If you were to dress a monkey in the robes of the Duke of Zhou, it would surely bite and tear them, and would not be satisfied until they were completely removed. The difference between ancient and modern times is like the difference between a monkey and the Duke of Zhou.

When Xi Shi suffered from heart pain and frowned in her village, an ugly woman from the same village saw her and thought it beautiful. She returned home, clutching her chest and frowning in her village. The rich people of the village, seeing her, shut their doors tightly and would not come out; the poor people, seeing her, took their wives and children and fled. She knew that frowning was beautiful, but did not know why frowning was beautiful. Alas! Your Master will surely come to ruin!”

When Confucius was fifty-one years old and had not yet heard the Way, he traveled south to Pei to see Lao Dan. Lao Dan said, “You have come? I have heard you are a worthy man of the north. Have you attained the Way?” Confucius said, “Not yet.” Laozi asked, “How did you seek it?” Confucius said, “I sought it through regulations and numbers, but after five years I had not attained it.” Laozi asked, “How then did you seek it?” Confucius said, “I sought it through yin and yang, but after twelve years I had not attained it.”

Laozi said, “Indeed. If the Way could be offered, no one would fail to offer it to their ruler. If it could be presented, no one would fail to present it to their parents. If it could be told, no one would fail to tell their brothers. If it could be given, no one would fail to give it to their children and grandchildren. Yet it cannot be so, for no other reason than this: if there is no master within, it will not stay; if there is no proper alignment without, it will not proceed. What emerges from within, if not received from without, the sage will not send out. What enters from without, if there is no master within, the sage will not hide.

Fame is a public instrument – one must not take too much of it. Benevolence and righteousness are the temporary lodgings of the ancient kings; one may stay for a night but not dwell long, or one will face many reproaches. The perfected persons of old borrowed their path from benevolence and lodged temporarily in righteousness, so as to wander in the void of freedom, eat in the fields of simplicity, and stand in the garden of non-dependence. Freedom is non-action; simplicity is easy nourishment; non-dependence is giving nothing out. The ancients called this the wandering of gathering truth.

Those who regard wealth as the goal cannot yield their salary; those who regard prominence as the goal cannot yield their fame. Those who cling to power cannot yield their authority. Grasping it, they tremble; letting it go, they grieve. With no mirror within to reflect, they peer restlessly at what they cannot cease pursuing – these are people executed by Heaven. Resentment, kindness, taking, giving, remonstrance, teaching, giving life, and killing – these eight are instruments of rectification. Only those who follow the great transformation without being submerged can use them. Thus I say: the rectified is the one who is rectified. Those whose hearts do not accept this – their Heavenly Gate will not open.”

Confucius saw Lao Dan and spoke to him of benevolence and righteousness. Lao Dan said, “If chaff gets into one’s eyes, the positions of Heaven, Earth, and the four directions seem reversed. If a mosquito bites the skin, one cannot sleep all night. Benevolence and righteousness are grievous – they disturb my heart. No disorder is greater. If you cause the world not to lose its simplicity, you too should move with the wind and stand firm in virtue. Why then do you strive so vigorously, like someone carrying a large drum and searching for a lost child?

The swan does not bathe daily to be white; the crow is not dyed daily to be black. The simplicity of black and white needs no debate; the display of fame and reputation is not worth expanding. When the spring dries up, the fish are stranded on land together, moistening each other with their breath and wetting each other with their foam. But this is not as good as forgetting each other in the rivers and lakes.

After Confucius returned from seeing Lao Dan, he did not speak for three days. His disciples asked, “Master, when you saw Lao Dan, what admonitions did you give him?” Confucius said, “Only now have I truly seen the Dragon. The Dragon coils to form a body and disperses to become patterns. It rides upon clouds and mist and is nourished by yin and yang. My mouth hung open and I could not close it. How could I possibly offer Lao Dan any admonition?”

Zigong said, “Then is there truly a person who dwells like a corpse yet appears as a dragon, whose voice is like thunder yet whose silence is like an abyss, whose movements are like Heaven and Earth? May I, Ci, also have the chance to observe him?” So Zigong went to see Lao Dan in Confucius’ name. Lao Dan was about to respond arrogantly from the hall, but said softly, “My years are turning and passing. What admonitions do you have for me?”

Zigong said, “The Three Sovereigns and Five Emperors governed the world differently, yet their reputations are equally renowned. Yet you alone say they were not sages. Why?” Lao Dan said, “Young man, come a little closer. On what grounds do you say they were different?” Zigong replied, “Yao entrusted Shun, and Shun entrusted Yu. Yu used effort, while Tang used military force. King Wen submitted to Zhou and did not dare to rebel, while King Wu rebelled against Zhou and would not submit. Thus I say they were different.”

Lao Dan said, “Young man, come a little closer. Let me tell you about the governance of the Three Sovereigns and Five Emperors. When the Yellow Emperor governed the world, he made the people’s hearts unified. Among the people, there were those whose parents died and they did not weep, yet the people did not criticize them. When Yao governed the world, he made the people’s hearts affectionate. Among the people, there were those who reduced the mourning period for their parents, yet the people did not criticize them. When Shun governed the world, he made the people’s hearts competitive. Pregnant women gave birth at ten months, and the children could speak at five months. Before they were old enough to be called children, they began to distinguish persons – and thus people began to die young. When Yu governed the world, he made the people’s hearts changeable. People became scheming, and the use of weapons became justified. Killing a thief was not considered killing a man. Each regarded his own kind as the world. Thus the world was greatly alarmed, and both the Confucians and the Mohists arose. At their beginning there was some order, but now – even women! What is there to say?

Let me tell you: the governance of the Three Sovereigns and Five Emperors was called ‘order,’ yet no disorder was greater. The knowledge of the Three Sovereigns contradicted the brightness of the sun and moon above, violated the essence of the mountains and rivers below, and destroyed the proper sequence of the four seasons in between. Their knowledge was more poisonous than the tail of a scorpion. Even the wildest beasts could not rest in the true nature of their lives. Yet they still considered themselves sages – is this not shameful? Their shamelessness!” Zigong stood uneasy and unsettled.

Confucius said to Lao Dan, “I have studied the Six Classics – the Book of Poetry, the Book of Documents, the Book of Rites, the Book of Music, the Book of Changes, and the Spring and Autumn Annals. I have done so for a long time and believe I understand their principles. I have presented them to seventy-two rulers, discussing the ways of the ancient kings and clarifying the achievements of the Dukes of Zhou and Shao, yet not a single ruler has employed them. How difficult it is! Are people truly so hard to persuade? Or is the Way truly so hard to make clear?”

Laozi said, “Fortunately, you did not encounter a ruler who could govern! The Six Classics are merely the old footprints of the ancient kings – how could they be the shoes that made them? What you speak of now is like footprints. Footprints are produced by shoes, but are footprints the shoes themselves?

White ospreys gaze at each other, their pupils unmoving, and are transformed by the wind. Insects: the male calls in the wind above, the female responds in the wind below, and they are transformed by the wind. Some kinds have both male and female within themselves, and so are transformed by the wind. Nature cannot be changed; destiny cannot be altered; time cannot be stopped; the Way cannot be blocked. If one attains the Way, there is nowhere one cannot go. If one loses it, there is nowhere one can go.”

Confucius did not go out for three months. Then he returned and said, “I have attained it. The crow and the magpie nurture their young; fish transmit life through foam; the fine-waisted wasp is transformed; when a younger brother is born, the elder brother cries. For too long, I have not been a companion of transformation! If I am not a companion of transformation, how can I transform others?” Laozi said, “Good. Confucius has attained it!”

Note

This Zhuangzi ‑ Tianyun excerpt explores cosmic spontaneous transformation. Through fables like straw dogs and Dongshi’s imitation, it criticizes rigid outdated rituals, urging people to follow the ever‑changing Dao rather than copy the past.

Zhuangzi (c. 369–286 BCE):

The author, a foundational Daoist philosopher of the Warring States period. His philosophy emphasizes natural spontaneity, non-action (wuwei), and freedom from social conventions.

Lao Dan (Laozi):

The legendary founder of Daoism and author of the Dao De Jing. In this chapter, he serves as Confucius’ philosophical foil, representing the Daoist ideal of naturalness against Confucian ritualism.

Confucius (551–479 BCE):

The founder of Confucianism, portrayed here not as a revered sage but as a well-meaning but misguided figure who clings to outdated rituals. This is a characteristic Daoist literary device.

The Yellow Emperor:

A mythical culture hero and one of the legendary founders of Chinese civilization. Here he expounds on the “Heavenly Music” (Xianchi), representing the cosmic harmony of Dao.

Xianchi (咸池):

A mythical piece of music attributed to the Yellow Emperor. In the text, it represents the “Music of Heaven.” It is not just entertainment; it is a cosmic force that mimics the cycles of life, death, and the seasons. Listening to it induces fear, then relaxation, and finally a state of bewilderment that leads to the Dao.

Yao, Shun, and Yu:

The three legendary sage-kings of ancient China, traditionally held up by Confucians as models of virtuous rule. Laozi criticizes them in this chapter, arguing that their governance progressively corrupted the natural simplicity of the people’s hearts.

Yan Yuan (Yan Hui):

Yan Hui is Confucius’ most beloved disciple, known for his virtue and poverty.

Zigong (Zi Gong):

Another prominent disciple of Confucius, known for his eloquence and diplomatic skill.

Xi Shi:

One of the Four Great Beauties of ancient China. The story of her frowning in pain and being imitated by an ugly woman gave rise to the famous idiom “Dong Shi imitates Xi Shi’s frown” (Dongshi xiaopin), meaning blind, counterproductive imitation.

Wu Xianzhao:

A legendary shaman of the Shang dynasty, representing an ancient, pre-philosophical wisdom tradition.

Three Sovereigns and Five Emperors:

Mythical rulers from the dawn of Chinese civilization. Confucians view them as the golden age of moral rule. Daoists (like Laozi in this text) often view them as the beginning of the problem – arguing that their attempts to “govern” and “civilize” actually corrupted the natural simplicity of humanity.

“The Way” (Dao, Tao):

The central concept of Daoism. In this translation, it is rendered as “the Way” (following Burton Watson’s convention), rather than “God” or “Nature,” to preserve its unique meaning as the spontaneous, ineffable source and pattern of all existence.

Non-action (Wuwei):

Not literal inaction, but action that is perfectly aligned with the natural flow of things – effortless, unforced, and free from ego-driven intention.

Straw Dogs (刍狗):

Ritual objects made of straw, treated with great reverence before a sacrifice and then discarded and trampled afterward. Zhuangzi uses this as a metaphor for the rituals and institutions of the ancient kings: once their time has passed, clinging to them is as absurd as treasuring a discarded straw dog.

The Six Classics:

The canonical texts of Confucianism: Book of Songs, Book of Documents, Book of Rites, Book of Music, Book of Changes, and Spring and Autumn Annals. Laozi dismisses these as merely “footprints” left by the sages, not the sages themselves. He argues that reading about the Way is not the same as walking the Way.

“Pushing a boat on land”:

A vivid metaphor for the futility of applying ancient institutions to a changed present. Just as a boat is useless on land, the rites of the Zhou dynasty are useless in the state of Lu centuries later.

“Fish forgetting each other in the rivers and lakes” (相忘于江湖):

One of Zhuangzi’s most famous images. When the spring dries up, fish struggle to keep each other alive with their moisture and foam – a poignant but pitiful sight. Confucians value this mutual help (benevolence/charity). However, Laozi argues it is better to be in the “Jianghu” (rivers and lakes) and forget each other. It is better to let things exist naturally in their element than to force artificial acts of kindness in a desperate situation.

庄子第十四篇天运

  “天其运乎?地其处乎?日月其争于所乎?孰主张是?孰维纲是? 孰居无事推而行是?意者其有机缄而不得已乎?意者其运转而不能自 止邪?云者为雨乎?雨者为云乎?孰隆施是?孰居无事淫乐而劝是? 风起北方,一西一东,有上彷徨。孰嘘吸是?孰居无事而披拂是?敢问何故?”巫咸祒曰:“来,吾语女。天有六极五常,帝王顺之则治,逆之则凶。九洛之事,治成德备,临照下土,天下戴之,此谓上皇。”

  商大宰荡问仁于庄子。庄子曰:“虎狼,仁也。”曰:“何谓也? ”庄子曰:“父子相亲,何为不仁!”曰:“请问至仁。”庄子曰: “至仁无亲。”大宰曰:“荡闻之,无亲则不爱,不爱则不孝。谓至 仁不孝,可乎?”庄子曰:“不然,夫至仁尚矣,孝固不足以言之。 此非过孝之言也,不及孝之言也。夫南行者至于郢,北面而不见冥山 ,是何也?则去之远也。故曰:以敬孝易,以爱孝难;以爱孝易,而 忘亲难;忘亲易,使亲忘我难;使亲忘我易,兼忘天下难;兼忘天下 易,使天下兼忘我难。夫德遗尧、舜而不为也,利泽施于万世,天下 莫知也,岂直太息而言仁孝乎哉!夫孝悌仁义,忠信贞廉,此皆自勉 以役其德者也,不足多也。故曰:至贵,国爵并焉;至富,国财并焉 ;至愿,名誉并焉。是以道不渝。”

  北门成问于黄帝曰:“帝张咸池之乐于洞庭之野,吾始闻之惧,复 闻之怠,卒闻之而惑,荡荡默默,乃不自得。”帝曰:“汝殆其然哉 !吾奏之以人,征之以天,行之以礼义,建之以太清。夫至乐者,先 应之以人事,顺之以天理,行之以五德,应之以自然。然后调理四时 ,太和万物。四时迭起,万物循生。一盛一衰,文武伦经。一清一浊 ,阴阳调和,流光其声。蛰虫始作,吾惊之以雷霆。其卒无尾,其始 无首。一死一生,一偾一起,所常无穷,而一不可待。汝故惧也。吾 又奏之以阴阳之和,烛之以日月之明。其声能短能长,能柔能刚,变 化齐一,不主故常。在谷满谷,在坑满坑。涂郤守神,以物为量。其声挥绰,其名高明。是故鬼神守其幽,日月星 辰行其纪。吾止之于有穷,流之于无止。子欲虑之而不能知也,望之 而不能见也,逐之而不能及也。傥然立于四虚之道,倚于槁梧而吟: ‘目知穷乎所欲见,力屈乎所欲逐,吾既不及,已夫!’形充空虚, 乃至委蛇。汝委蛇,故怠。吾又奏之以无怠之声,调之以自然之命。 故若混逐丛生,林乐而无形,布挥而不曳,幽昏而无声。动于无方, 居于窈冥,或谓之死,或谓之生;或谓之实,或谓之荣。行流散徙, 不主常声。世疑之,稽于圣人。圣也者,达于情而遂于命也。天机不 张而五官皆备。此之谓天乐,无言而心说。故有焱氏为之颂曰:‘听 之不闻其声,视之不见其形,充满天地,苞裹六极。’汝欲听之而无接焉,而故惑也。乐也者,始于惧,惧故祟;吾又次之以怠,怠故遁 ;卒之于惑,惑故愚;愚故道,道可载而与之俱也。”

  孔子西游于卫,颜渊问师金曰:“以夫子之行为奚如?”师金曰: “惜乎!而夫子其穷哉!”颜渊曰:“何也?”师金曰:“夫刍狗之 未陈也,盛以箧衍,巾以文绣,尸祝齐戒以将之。及其已陈也,行者 践其首脊,苏者取而爨之而已。将复取而盛以箧衍,巾以文绣,游居 寝卧其下,彼不得梦,必且数眯焉。今而夫子亦取先王已陈刍狗,聚 弟子游居寝卧其下。故伐树于宋,削迹于卫,穷于商周,是非其梦邪 ?围于陈蔡之间,七日不火食,死生相与邻,是非其眯邪?夫水行莫 如用舟,而陆行莫如用车。以舟之可行于水也,而求推之于陆,则没世不行寻常。古今非水陆与?周鲁非舟车与?今蕲行周于鲁,是犹推舟于陆也!劳而无功,身必有殃。彼未知夫无方之传,应物而不穷者也。且子独不见夫桔槔者乎?引之则俯,舍之则仰。彼,人之所引, 非引人者也。故俯仰而不得罪于人。故夫三皇五帝之礼义法度,不矜于同而矜于治。故譬三皇五帝之礼义法度,其犹柤梨橘柚邪!其味相反而皆可于口。故礼义法度者,应时而变者也 。今取猨狙而衣以周公之服,彼必龁啮挽裂,尽去而后慊。观古今之异, 犹猨狙之异乎周公也。故西施病心而颦其里,其里之丑人见之而美之 ,归亦捧心而颦其里。其里之富人见之,坚闭门而不出;贫人见之,挈妻子而去之走。彼知颦美而不知颦之所以美。惜乎,而夫子其穷哉 !”

  孔子行年五十有一而不闻道,乃南之沛见老聃。老聃曰:“子来乎 ?吾闻子,北方之贤者也!子亦得道乎?”孔子曰:“未得也。”老 子曰:“子恶乎求之哉?”曰:“吾求之于度数,五年而未得也。” 老子曰:“子又恶乎求之哉?”曰:“吾求之于阴阳,十有二年而未 得也。”老子曰:“然,使道而可献,则人莫不献之于其君;使道而可进,则人莫不进之于其亲;使道而可以告人,则人莫不告其兄弟; 使道而可以与人,则人莫不与其子孙。然而不可者,无佗也,中无主 而不止,外无正而不行。由中出者,不受于外,圣人不出;由外入者 ,无主于中,圣人不隐。名,公器也,不可多取。仁义,先王之蘧庐也,止可以一宿而不可久处。觏而多责。古之至人,假道于仁,托宿 于义,以游逍遥之虚,食于苟简之田,立于不贷之圃。逍遥,无为也 ;苟简,易养也;不贷,无出也。古者谓是采真之游。以富为是者, 不能让禄;以显为是者,不能让名。亲权者,不能与人柄,操之则栗 ,舍之则悲,而一无所鉴,以窥其所不休者,是天之戮民也。怨、恩 、取、与、谏、教、生、杀八者,正之器也,唯循大变无所湮者为能用 之。故曰:正者,正也。其心以为不然者,天门弗开矣。”

  孔子见老聃而语仁义。老聃曰:“夫播糠眯目,则天地四方易位矣 ;蚊虻噆肤,则通昔不寐矣。夫仁义惨然,乃愤吾心,乱莫大焉。吾子使天下无失其朴 ,吾子亦放风而动,总德而立矣!又奚杰杰然若负建鼓而求亡子者邪 !夫鹄不日浴而白,乌不日黔而黑。黑白之朴,不足以为辩;名誉之观,不足以为广。泉涸,鱼相与处于陆,相呴以湿,相濡以沫,不若相忘于江湖。”

  孔子见老聃归,三日不谈。弟子问曰:“夫子见老聃,亦将何规哉 ?”孔子曰:“吾乃今于是乎见龙。龙,合而成体,散而成章,乘乎 云气而养乎阴阳。予口张而不能嗋。予又何规老聃哉?”子贡曰:“然则人 固有尸居而龙见,雷声而渊默,发动如天地者乎?赐亦可得而观乎? ”遂以孔子声见老聃。老聃方将倨堂而应,微曰:“予年运而往矣, 子将何以戒我乎?”子贡曰:“夫三皇五帝之治天下不同,其系声名 一也。而先生独以为非圣人,如何哉?”老聃曰:“小子少进!子何 以谓不同?”对曰:“尧授舜,舜授禹。禹用力而汤用兵,文王顺纣 而不敢逆,武王逆纣而不肯顺,故曰不同。”老聃曰:“小子少进, 余语汝三皇五帝之治天下:黄帝之治天下,使民心一。民有其亲死不 哭而民不非也。尧之治天下,使民心亲。民有为其亲杀其杀而民不非也。舜之治天下,使民心竞。民孕妇十月生子,子生五月而能言,不 至乎孩而始谁,则人始有夭矣。禹之治天下,使民心变,人有心而兵有顺,杀盗非杀人。自为种而‘天下’耳。是以天下大骇,儒墨皆起 。其作始有伦,而今乎妇女,何言哉!余语汝:三皇五帝之治天下, 名曰治之,而乱莫甚焉。三皇之知,上悖日月之明,下睽山川之精, 中堕四时之施。其知惨于蛎虿之尾,鲜规之兽,莫得安其性命之情者 ,而犹自以为圣人,不可耻乎?其无耻也!”子贡蹴蹴然立不安。

  孔子谓老聃曰:“丘治《诗》、《书》、《礼》、《乐》、《易》 、《春秋》六经,自以为久矣,孰知其故矣,以奸者七十二君,论先 王之道而明周、召之迹,一君无所钩用。甚矣!夫人之难说也?道之 难明邪?”老子曰:“幸矣,子之不遇治世之君!夫六经,先王之陈 迹也,岂其所以迹哉!今子之所言,犹迹也。夫迹,履之所出,而迹 岂履哉!夫白鶂之相视 ,眸子不运而风化;虫,雄鸣于上风,雌应于下风而风化。类自为雌 雄,故风化。性不可易,命不可变,时不可止,道不可壅。苟得于道 ,无自而不可;失焉者,无自而可。”孔子不出三月,复见,曰:“ 丘得之矣。乌鹊孺,鱼傅沫,细要者化,有弟而兄啼。久矣,夫丘不 与化为人!不与化为人,安能化人。”老子曰:“可,丘得之矣!”

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