Tian Zifang (田子方) was attending Duke Wen of Wei, and he frequently praised Xi Gong (谿工). The Duke asked, “Is Xi Gong your teacher?” Zifang replied, “No, he is merely a fellow villager of mine. I praise him because his words often hit the mark.” The Duke asked, “Then do you have no teacher?” Zifang replied, “I do.” “Who is your teacher?” asked the Duke. Zifang said, “Dongguo Shunzi (东郭顺子).” The Duke asked, “Then why, Master, have you never praised him?” Zifang replied, “His character is utterly genuine. He has the appearance of a man but the emptiness of Heaven. He follows things while preserving his true nature; he is pure yet highly inclusive of others. When others act against the Way, he corrects his own demeanor to awaken them, causing their misguided intentions to dissolve. How could I, Wu Ze (无择), be worthy of praising him!”
After Zifang left, Duke Wen stood in stunned silence, not speaking for the rest of the day. He summoned the courtiers who stood before him and said, “How remote and profound is the gentleman of complete Virtue! At first, I believed that the words of sages and the practices of benevolence and righteousness were the ultimate truths. But having heard of Zifang’s teacher, my body feels as if it has come undone, and I have no desire to move; my mouth feels clamped shut, and I have no desire to speak. What I have been studying is nothing but clods of earth! And the State of Wei is truly a burden to me!”
Wen Boxuezi (温伯雪子) was traveling to Qi and stayed in Lu. A man from Lu requested an audience with him. Wen Boxuezi said, “It cannot be done. I have heard that the gentlemen of the Central States are clear about rituals and righteousness, but crude in understanding the human heart. I do not wish to see him.” When he reached Qi, he returned and stayed again in Lu. The same man requested an audience once more. Wen Boxuezi said, “Previously he sought to see me, and now he seeks to see me again. He must have something that will shake me out of my complacency.” He went out to see the guest, and upon returning, he sighed. The next day, he saw the guest again, and upon returning, he sighed again. His servant asked, “Every time you see this guest, you return and sigh. Why is that?” Wen Boxuezi replied, “I originally told you: The people of the Central States are clear about rituals and righteousness, but crude in understanding the human heart. The man who saw me previously moved with the strict precision of a compass and a square; his demeanor was alternately like a dragon and like a tiger. When he remonstrated with me, he was like a son; when he guided me, he was like a father. That is why I sighed.”
Confucius went to see him but did not speak. Zilu asked, “You, Master, have wished to see Wen Boxuezi for a long time. Now that you have seen him, why did you not speak?” Confucius said, “With a person like that, the Way is evident the moment your eyes meet. There is no room for words!”
Yan Yuan asked Confucius, saying, “When you walk, Master, I walk; when you hasten, I hasten; when you run, I run. But when you gallop away, leaving the dust behind, I can only stare blankly from behind!” Confucius said, “Hui, what do you mean?” Yan Yuan replied, “When you walk, I walk; when you speak, I speak. When you hasten, I hasten; when you debate, I debate. When you run, I run; when you speak of the Way, I also speak of the Way. But when you gallop away, leaving the dust behind, and I can only stare blankly from behind, it is because you inspire trust without speaking, you achieve universal harmony without taking sides, and the people flock to you though you hold no official position. I simply do not know how you do it.”
Confucius said, “Alas! Can this not be examined clearly? There is no sorrow greater than the death of the heart/mind, and physical death is secondary to it. The sun rises in the east and sets in the western extreme, and all things follow this pattern. Those with eyes and feet depend on the sun to achieve their tasks. When the sun appears, things exist; when it sets, they perish. All things are the same: they die depending on it, and they are born depending on it. Once I received this formed body, I await its end without changing. I move in response to things, without a gap day or night, yet I do not know where it will end. My form was molded naturally; I cannot foresee my fate. For this reason, I go along with nature’s transformations every day. I have spent my whole life with you, arm in arm, yet you have lost the essence. Is this not sorrowful? You likely cling to what is obvious in me. But that part of me is already exhausted, and you seek it as if it still exists. This is like looking for a horse in an empty market. The traits I once displayed, you have largely forgotten; the traits you display, I have also largely forgotten. Even so, why should you worry? Although you may forget the old me, there is something in me that remains unforgettable.”
Confucius went to see Lao Dan (Laozi). Lao Dan had just washed his hair and was spreading it out to dry. He stood motionless, seeming not like a human being. Confucius withdrew and waited for him. After a short while, he saw him and said, “Was it an illusion on my part, Qiu? Or was it truly so? Just now, Master, your body stood stiff like a withered tree, as if you had abandoned things and departed from men to stand in solitude.” Lao Dan said, “I was wandering my mind at the origin of things.” Confucius asked, “What does that mean?” Lao Dan replied, “The mind is trapped and cannot know it; the mouth is open and cannot speak of it. Let me try to discuss its general outline for you: The utmost Yin is cold and stern; the utmost Yang is hot and blazing. The sternness comes forth from Heaven; the blaziness issues from Earth. These two interact and blend in harmony, and thus things are born. Something acts as their guiding principle, yet its form is never seen. Waning and waxing, fullness and emptiness, one day dark, the next bright, changing daily and transforming monthly, it acts every day, yet its merit is never seen. Life has its sprouting; death has its returning. Beginning and end oppose each other without a starting point, and no one knows their limit. If not this, what else could be the Ancestor!”
Confucius said, “May I ask about wandering in this?” Lao Dan said, “To attain this is the utmost beauty and the utmost joy. To attain the utmost beauty and wander in the utmost joy is called the Utmost Man.” Confucius said, “I wish to hear the method.” Lao Dan said, “Grass-eating beasts do not distress themselves when they change marshes; water-born creatures do not distress themselves when they change waters. They undergo small changes without losing their great constancy. Joy, anger, sorrow, and happiness do not enter their breasts. The universe is that in which all things are one. If you attain that oneness and become identical with it, then your four limbs and hundred parts will be mere dust and dirt, and life and death, beginning and end, will be like day and night. Nothing can disturb your harmony, let alone the distinctions of gain and loss, misfortune and fortune! To cast off servants is like casting off mud; you know that your self is more precious than the servants. Preciousness lies within oneself and is not lost in transformation. Moreover, the ten thousand transformations have never had an end. What is worth worrying your heart about? One who has attained the Way understands this.”
Confucius said, “Master, your Virtue rivals Heaven and Earth, yet you still use these perfect words to cultivate your mind. Among the gentlemen of antiquity, who could have escaped this?” Lao Dan said, “Not so. Water, in its flowing, acts without effort and its talent is natural. The Virtue of the Utmost Man requires no cultivation, yet things cannot depart from it. It is like the natural height of Heaven, the natural depth of Earth, and the natural brightness of the sun and moon. What cultivation is needed?”
Confucius left and told Yan Hui, “As for my understanding of the Way, am I not like a vinegar gnat (a tiny insect in a jar of vinegar)! If this Master had not lifted the lid for me, I would never have known the great wholeness of Heaven and Earth.”
Zhuangzi visited Duke Ai of Lu. The Duke said, “Lu has many Confucian scholars, but few who practice your methods.” Zhuangzi said, “Lu has few Confucian scholars.” The Duke said, “Throughout the whole state of Lu, everyone wears Confucian attire. How can you say they are few?” Zhuangzi said, “I have heard that Confucian scholars who wear round caps know the seasons of Heaven; those who wear square-toed shoes know the shape of the Earth; those who wear jade pendants tied with slow ribbons can make decisions when matters arise. But a gentleman who possesses the Way does not necessarily wear the clothes; and those who wear the clothes do not necessarily know the Way. If you, Duke, believe otherwise, why not issue an order throughout the state saying: ‘Those who wear these clothes without possessing the Way shall be punished with death!’”
So Duke Ai issued the order. After five days, no one in the State of Lu dared to wear Confucian attire. Only one man, dressed as a Confucian, stood at the Duke’s gate. The Duke immediately summoned him and questioned him on state affairs. He responded to a thousand twists and ten thousand changes without exhaustion. Zhuangzi said, “In the entire State of Lu, there is only one Confucian scholar. Can this be called ‘many’?”
Because Baili Xi did not let rank and salary enter his heart, he fed the cattle and they grew fat. This made Duke Mu of Qin forget his lowly status and entrust him with the government. Because Shun (of the Youyu clan) did not let life and death enter his heart, he was able to move others.
The Yuan Lord of Song intended to have some pictures drawn. All the court artists arrived. They received his bow, stood respectfully, licked their brushes, and mixed their ink. Half of them remained outside. One artist arrived last. He sauntered along unhurriedly; after receiving the bow, he did not stand still but went straight to the guesthouse. The Lord sent someone to check on him. He had taken off his clothes, sat cross-legged, and was naked. The Lord said, “This is fine. He is a true artist.”
King Wen of Zhou was inspecting the Zang region and saw a man fishing. Yet his fishing was not really fishing. He did not hold his rod with the intent to catch; he was simply fishing constantly. King Wen wished to raise him up and entrust him with the government, but he feared his ministers and elder kinsmen would be unsettled. He wished to let the matter drop, but he could not bear to leave the common people without a guide from Heaven. So, early in the morning, he assembled his ministers and said, “Last night, I dreamed of a fine man. He had a dark complexion and a beard, rode a piebald horse with one red hoof, and said: ‘Entrust your government to the Elder of Zang, and perhaps the people will be healed!’” The ministers, startled, said, “It was your former lord!” King Wen said, “Then let us divine it.” The ministers said, “It is the command of the former lord. Let Your Majesty have no other concerns. Why divine it?”
So they welcomed the Elder of Zang and entrusted him with the government. The statutes and laws were not changed, and no partial orders were issued. After three years, King Wen inspected the state. The factions of scholars had broken up and scattered; the heads of offices claimed no personal merit; and foreign measures of volume did not dare enter the four borders. When the factions of scholars broke up, it meant they valued unity; when the heads of offices claimed no merit, it meant they shared the work; when foreign measures did not enter, it meant the feudal lords had no double-heartedness. King Wen then regarded him as the Grand Master, faced north (as a student), and asked, “Can this governance extend to the whole world?” The Elder of Zang gave no answer, vague and unresponsive. He issued an order in the morning and fled by night, and was never heard of again.
Yan Yuan asked Confucius, “Was King Wen not yet perfect? Why did he have to resort to a dream?” Confucius said, “Silence! Say no more! King Wen was already perfect. Why criticize him? He was merely complying with the momentary feelings of the people.”
Lie Yukou was shooting archery for Bohun Wuren (伯昏无人). He drew the bow to its full limit, placed a cup of water on his elbow, and released. The arrow flew, and another was immediately nocked; just as one was fired, the next was already in place. At that moment, he was like a statue. Bohun Wuren said, “This is the shooting of archery, not the shooting of non-archery. Let me try climbing a high mountain with you, treading on precarious rocks, and looking down into an abyss of a thousand fathoms. Can you shoot then?”
So Wuren climbed the high mountain, trod on the dangerous rock, and looked down into the deep abyss. He turned his back to the edge, with two-tenths of his feet hanging over the outside. He bowed to Yukou and invited him forward. Yukou lay prostrate on the ground, sweat flowing down to his heels. Bohun Wuren said, “The Utmost Man peers up into the blue sky above and dives down into the Yellow Springs below. He sweeps through the eight extremes, yet his spirit and qi remain unchanged. Now you have a look of trembling fear in your eyes. Your aim is likely far off!”
Jian Wu (肩吾) asked Sunshu Ao, “You served three times as Prime Minister without feeling honored, and you were dismissed three times without showing sorrow. At first, I doubted you. Now I see the breath flowing smoothly through your nose. How is it that your mind acts this way?” Sunshu Ao said, “In what way do I surpass others? I consider that its coming could not be refused, and its going could not be stopped. I believe that gain and loss are not of my own making, and so I show no sorrow. In what way do I surpass others? Moreover, I do not know whether the honor lies in the position or in myself. If it lies in the position, it has nothing to do with me. If it lies in myself, it has nothing to do with the position. While I am hesitating and looking around in all directions, what leisure do I have to notice whether men are noble or base!”
Confucius heard of this and said, “The True Men of antiquity could not be persuaded by the wise, seduced by beauties, or robbed by bandits. Even Fuxi and the Yellow Emperor could not befriend them. Life and death are great matters, yet they could not change him – how much less rank and salary! A man like this, his spirit would pass through great mountains without obstruction, enter deep abysses without getting wet, and dwell in humble places without distress. He fills Heaven and Earth; the more he gives to others, the more he possesses for himself.”
The King of Chu was sitting with the Lord of Fan. After a short while, the King’s attendants reported three times, “Fan has perished.” The Lord of Fan said, “The perishing of Fan is not enough to destroy my existence. If the perishing of Fan is not enough to destroy my existence, then the existence of Chu is not enough to preserve existence. Viewed from this perspective, Fan has never perished, and Chu has never existed.”
Note
The chaotic era (c. 475–221 BCE) in which these texts were written. The constant warfare and political instability explain the text’s focus on self-preservation, avoiding political traps, and finding inner peace amidst chaos.
The protagonist and a foundational Daoist philosopher (c. 4th century BCE). He advocates for spiritual freedom and living in harmony with the Dao (the Way, or Tao), often using humor and paradox to challenge conventional logic.
Tian Zifang (Tian Wuze):
A respected scholar and teacher of Duke Wen of Wei during the Warring States period. He is known for his integrity and his belief that a humble person can be proud of their principles, while the powerful risk losing everything by being arrogant.
The founder of Confucianism. In Zhuangzi, he is frequently used as a literary character to illustrate the limitations of rigid morality and social ambition, often serving as a student to Daoist sages.
The founder of Daoism and author of the Tao Te Ching. In this chapter, he represents the ultimate sage who has merged with the origin of all things.
A wise ruler from the late Shang Dynasty, revered as a model of benevolent governance. Here, he uses a clever ruse (a fake dream) to appoint a sage, showing that even a “perfect” ruler must adapt to worldly circumstances.
The Elder of Zang (臧丈人):
A mysterious fisherman/sage figure, often associated with the historical Jiang Ziya (Taigong Wang). He represents the ideal Daoist ruler who governs by doing nothing (wuwei) and disappears once his work is done.
Baili Xi:
A famous statesman from the Spring and Autumn period. Originally a slave who fed cattle, Baili Xi rose to become a key minister for Duke Mu of Qin because he didn’t care about status, only about doing his job well.
Sunshu Ao:
Sunshu Ao was a prime minister of the State of Chu during the Spring and Autumn period. He is famous for remaining calm and unchanged whether he was appointed or fired, illustrating the Daoist ideal of being unmoved by external gains or losses.
A Daoist philosopher known for his ability to “ride the wind.” In the archery story, he represents someone with great technical skill but who still lacks true spiritual mastery because he is affected by fear.
The State of Lu:
The home state of Confucius and the center of Confucian culture. Zhuangzi uses it as a backdrop to critique how people often wear the “uniform” of a scholar without possessing the actual wisdom or virtue.
The True Artist (Undressing to Paint):
When the Lord of Song calls for artists, most are polite and nervous. One arrives late, ignores protocol, and goes back to his room to sit naked and relaxed. The Lord declares him the “true artist.”
This is a metaphor for creative flow. True mastery comes when you forget social rules, expectations, and the fear of judgment. It’s about being completely authentic and unburdened.
The Horse in the Empty Market:
Confucius tells his disciple Yan Hui that trying to hold onto his past teachings is like looking for a horse in a market that has already closed and emptied out.
Life is constant change. You cannot cling to the past or fixed identities. To survive and thrive, you must adapt to the present moment, just as the sun rises and sets daily.
The Vinegar Gnat:
After meeting Laozi, Confucius compares himself to a tiny gnat living in a jar of vinegar, unaware of the vast world outside until the lid was lifted.
A humble admission of limited perspective. It illustrates the Daoist view that our conventional knowledge is tiny compared to the vast, ineffable Dao.
Archery from the Abyss:
Liezi shoots perfectly on flat ground. But when his master takes him to the edge of a terrifying cliff, Liezi collapses in fear.
Technical skill is not enough. True mastery (“The Utmost Man”) requires a spirit that remains calm and unchanged even in the face of death or extreme danger. It’s about inner stability over external technique.
The Fisherman Who Doesn’t Fish:
King Wen finds a man fishing, but he isn’t trying to catch anything; he is just “fishing” as a state of being.
This illustrates Wuwei (Non-Action). The sage acts without attachment to the result. By not forcing outcomes, he achieves perfect harmony and governance.
田子方第二十一
田子方侍坐于魏文侯，数称谿工。文侯曰：“谿工，子之师邪？”子方曰：“非也，无择之里人也。称道数当故无择称之。”文侯曰：“然则子无师邪？”子方曰：“有。”曰：“子之师谁邪？”子方曰：“东郭顺子。”文侯曰：“然则夫子何故未尝称之？”子方曰：“其为人也真。人貌而天虚，缘而葆真，清而容物。物无道，正容以悟之，使人之意也消。无择何足以称之！”子方出，文侯傥然，终日不言。召前立臣而语之曰：“远矣，全德之君子！始吾以圣知之言、仁义之行为至矣。吾闻子方之师，吾形解而不欲动，口钳而不欲言。吾所学者，直土梗耳！夫魏真为我累耳！”
温伯雪子适齐，舍于鲁。鲁人有请见之者，温伯雪子曰：“不可。吾闻中国之君子，明乎礼义而陋于知人心。吾不欲见也。”至于齐，反舍于鲁，是人也又请见。温伯雪子曰：“往也蕲见我，今也又蕲见我，是必有以振我也。”出而见客，入而叹。明日见客，又入而叹。其仆曰：“每见之客也，必入而叹，何耶？”曰：“吾固告子矣：中国之民，明乎礼义而陋乎知人心。昔之见我者，进退一成规、一成矩，从容一若龙、一若虎。其谏我也似子，其道我也似父，是以叹也。”仲尼见之而不言。子路曰：“吾子欲见温伯雪子久矣。见之而不言，何邪？”仲尼曰：“若夫人者，目击而道存矣，亦不可以容声矣！”
颜渊问于仲尼曰：“夫子步亦步，夫子趋亦趋，夫子驰亦驰，夫子奔逸绝尘，而回瞠若乎后矣！”夫子曰：“回，何谓邪？”曰：“夫子步亦步也，夫子言亦言也；夫子趋亦趋也，夫子辩亦辩也；夫子驰亦驰也，夫子言道，回亦言道也；及奔逸绝尘而回瞠若乎后者，夫子不言而信，不比而周，无器而民滔乎前，而不知所以然而已矣。”仲尼曰：“恶！可不察与！夫哀莫大于心死，而人死亦次之。日出东方而入于西极，万物莫不比方，有目有趾者，待是而后成功。是出则存，是入则亡。万物亦然，有待也而死，有待也而生。吾一受其成形，而不化以待尽。效物而动，日夜无隙，而不知其所终。薰然其成形，知命不能规乎其前。丘以是日徂。吾终身与汝交一臂而失之，可不哀与？女殆著乎吾所以著也。彼已尽矣，而女求之以为有，是求马于唐肆也。吾服，女也甚忘；女服，吾也甚忘。虽然，女奚患焉！虽忘乎故吾，吾有不忘者存。”
孔子见老聃，老聃新沐，方将被发而干，蛰然似非人。孔子便而待之。少焉见，曰：“丘也眩与？其信然与？向者先生形体掘若槁木，似遗物离人而立于独也。”老聃曰：“吾游心于物之初。”孔子曰：“何谓邪？”曰：“心困焉而不能知，口辟焉而不能言。尝为汝议乎其将：至阴肃肃，至阳赫赫。肃肃出乎天，赫赫发乎地。两者交通成和而物生焉，或为之纪而莫见其形。消息满虚，一晦一明，日改月化，日有所为而莫见其功。生有所乎萌，死有所乎归，始终相反乎无端，而莫知乎其所穷。非是也，且孰为之宗！”孔子曰：“请问游是。”老聃曰：“夫得是至美至乐也。得至美而游乎至乐，谓之至人。”孔子曰：“愿闻其方。”曰：“草食之兽，不疾易薮；水生之虫，不疾易水。行小变而不失其大常也，喜怒哀乐不入于胸次。夫天下也者，万物之所一也。得其所一而同焉，则四支百体将为尘垢，而死生终始将为昼夜，而莫之能滑，而况得丧祸福之所介乎！弃隶者若弃泥涂，知身贵于隶也。贵在于我而不失于变。且万化而未始有极也，夫孰足以患心！已为道者解乎此。”孔子曰：“夫子德配天地，而犹假至言以修心。古之君子，孰能脱焉！”老聃曰：“不然。夫水之于汋也，无为而才自然矣；至人之于德也，不修而物不能离焉。若天之自高，地之自厚，日月之自明，夫何修焉！”孔子出，以告颜回曰：“丘之于道也，其犹醯鸡与！微夫子之发吾覆也，吾不知天地之大全也。”
庄子见鲁哀公，哀公曰：“鲁多儒士，少为先生方者。”庄子曰：“鲁少儒。”哀公曰：“举鲁国而儒服，何谓少乎？”庄子曰：“周闻之：儒者冠圜冠者知天时，履句履者知地形，缓佩玦者事至而断。君子有其道者，未必为其服也；为其服者，未必知其道也。公固以为不然，何不号于国中曰：‘无此道而为此服者，其罪死！’”于是哀公号之五日，而鲁国无敢儒服者。独有一丈夫，儒服而立乎公门。公即召而问以国事，千转万变而不穷。庄子曰：“以鲁国而儒者一人耳，可谓多乎？”
百里奚爵禄不入于心，故饭牛而牛肥，使秦穆公忘其贱，与之政也。有虞氏死生不入于心，故足以动人。
宋元君将画图，众史皆至，受揖而立，舐笔和墨，在外者半。有一史后至者，儃儃然不趋，受揖不立，因之舍。公使人视之，则解衣般礴裸。君曰：“可矣，是真画者也。”
文王观于臧，见一丈夫钓，而其钓莫钓。非持其钓有钓者也，常钓也。文王欲举而授之政，而恐大臣父兄之弗安也；欲终而释之，而不忍百姓之无天也。于是旦而属之大夫曰：“昔者寡人梦见良人，黑色而髯，乘驳马而偏朱蹄，号曰：‘寓而政于臧丈人，庶几乎民有瘳乎！’”诸大夫蹵然曰∶“先君王也。”文王曰：“然则卜之。”诸大夫曰∶“先君之命，王其无它，又何卜焉。”遂迎臧丈人而授之政。典法无更，偏令无出。三年，文王观于国，则列士坏植散群，长官者不成德，斔斛不敢入于四竟。列士坏植散群，则尚同也；长官者不成德，则同务也，斔斛不敢入于四竟，则诸侯无二心也。文王于是焉以为大师，北面而问曰：“政可以及天下乎？”臧丈人昧然而不应，泛然而辞，朝令而夜循，终身无闻。颜渊问于仲尼曰：“文王其犹未邪？又何以梦为乎？”仲尼曰：“默，汝无言！夫文王尽之也，而又何论刺焉！彼直以循斯须也。”
列御寇为伯昏无人射，引之盈贯，措杯水其肘上，发之，适矢复沓，方矢复寓。当是时，犹象人也。伯昏无人曰：“是射之射，非不射之射也。尝与汝登高山，履危石，临百仞之渊，若能射乎？”于是无人遂登高山，履危石，临百仞之渊，背逡巡，足二分垂在外，揖御寇而进之。御寇伏地，汗流至踵。伯昏无人曰：“夫至人者，上窥青天，下潜黄泉，挥斥八极，神气不变。今汝怵然有恂目之志，尔于中也殆矣夫！”
肩吾问于孙叔敖曰：“子三为令尹而不荣华，三去之而无忧色。吾始也疑子，今视子之鼻间栩栩然，子之用心独奈何？”孙叔敖曰：“吾何以过人哉！吾以其来不可却也，其去不可止也。吾以为得失之非我也，而无忧色而已矣。我何以过人哉！且不知其在彼乎？其在我乎？其在彼邪亡乎我，在我邪亡乎彼。方将踌躇，方将四顾，何暇至乎人贵人贱哉！”仲尼闻之曰：“古之真人，知者不得说，美人不得滥，盗人不得劫，伏戏、黄帝不得友。死生亦大矣，而无变乎己，况爵禄乎！若然者，其神经乎大山而无介，入乎渊泉而不濡，处卑细而不惫，充满天地，既以与人己愈有。”
楚王与凡君坐，少焉，楚王左右曰“凡亡”者三。凡君曰：“凡之亡也，不足以丧吾存。夫凡之亡不足以丧吾存，则楚之存不足以存存。由是观之，则凡未始亡而楚未始存也。
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