by An Liu
Thus the section distinguishes between those who take deliberate action (youwei ) in a vain effort to contradict the natural propensities of things and those who engage in non-action by understanding and harnessing the natural course of things—for example, by using a boat on water or choosing a low-lying area as a place to dig a pond.
Section 19.3 argues that sages act differently to achieve the same ends: “As sages carry out their affairs, they differ in specific [details] but agree on matters of principle; they start out along different paths but return to the same place.”2 The section illustrates this point through a pair of anecdotes. In one, Mozi acts urgently to save the state of Song from potential destruction; in the other, the hermit Duangan Mu uses his prestige as a virtuous recluse to save Wei from a similar fate. The message is that the sage-ruler must choose appropriate means but never lose sight of the end: “In preserving [their states] against danger and stabilizing them against collapse, they are as one, and their wills never deviated from the desire to bring benefit to others.”
Judging from the acerbic tone of the section’s opening lines, section 19.4 challenges a particular understanding of human nature that may also have been popular when this chapter was composed. The claim is made, we are told, that human nature cannot be altered: “People’s natures in each case possess strengths and weaknesses, just as fish are swift and cranes are particolored. This is something natural that cannot be diminished or enhanced.” The section’s rebuttal of that claim begins by denying its validity, using the same formula employed in section 19.1: “I believe that this is not so.” The writer concedes that some traits are inherent; for example, people and horses alike receive their muscles, bones, frame, and body from Heaven, and these Heaven-endowed aspects of their physical form cannot be changed. Yet when a horse is a young colt, it exhibits many different kinds of natural tendencies: it jumps and kicks and raises its tail and runs, making it difficult for people to control it. Moreover,
its bite is strong enough to pierce flesh and break bones,
and its kick is hard enough to break a skull or crush a chest.
But when tamed by a groom or trained by a charioteer, the wild and unrestrained colt can be controlled with bridle and harness and led with rein and bit so that it will traverse even the most precarious terrain. The argument concludes: “A horse is a dumb brute and yet it is possible to penetrate through to its vital energy and will by relying on training to perfect the horse. How much more is this true of people!” Admitting that one might cite examples of goodness or depravity so extreme as to defy the bad effects of corruption or the good effects of education, the writer points out that when formulating policies or making general assessments, one must be careful of reasoning from extreme examples. The vast majority of people who “in loftiness do not reach Yao and Shun and in baseness do not compare with Shang Yun” can be perfected through education and instruction.
Section 19.5 builds its argument around the following opening claim:
The weakness of a wise person [in some field] makes him not as good [in that field] as a foolish person who is strong [in it].
The deficits of a worthy [in some field] make him not as good [in that field] as an ordinary person who surpasses [in it].
Even the sages of antiquity, the section continues, were not good at everything. Rong Cheng invented the calendar, Lord Millet invented agriculture, and so on. People have their particular talents: some are smiths, some weavers, some musicians. None achieves his or her skill without effort. This section then concludes: “Looking at it from this perspective, a wise person who makes no effort does not compare with a foolish person who loves to learn. From the rulers, dukes, and ministers on down to the common people, there has never been a case of someone succeeding without exerting himself to the utmost.”
Section 19.6 again takes up the theme of human agency, arguing that effort and perseverance are the crucial ingredients enabling a person to establish reputation and merit. The Superior Man then
musters his will and commits himself to uprightness, hastening toward brilliant teachers;
encourages moderation and exalts loftiness, separating himself from the conventions of the age.
These claims are supported by two illustrative and moving anecdotes in which the actors undergo all kinds of physical travails to achieve the goals just outlined.
Section 19.7, which concludes the chapter, turns to the benefits that come to those who have made the effort to educate themselves:
Those who fully comprehend things cannot be startled by the unusual;
those who are versed in the Way cannot be moved by the strange;
those who examine into words cannot be bedazzled by their designations;
those who investigate into forms cannot be misled by their appearances.
Sources
The literary form of “Cultivating Effort” belongs to a tradition extending back into the Warring States period, of using examples to teach people the techniques of oral debate by showing both how to assert and how to refute a philosophical claim. Sections 19.1 and 19.4 follow the literary form of a refutation or rebuttal (nan , “a proposition with which one has difficulty”). Each begins by stating a philosophical proposition attributed to an anonymous source, “someone says” (huo yue ). The validity of the claim is immediately denied with the author’s declarative statement “I believe this is not so” (wo yi wei bu ran ). The bulk of the section is then devoted to the refutation itself, so that the reader learns through examples and argumentation precisely why the particular proposition has been rejected. The oral and performative nature of the arguments in this chapter is underscored by the literary form of 19.1, which begins the chapter with an intricately metrical passage in the fu (poetic exposition) style. Fu, which generally were recited orally from a written script, were very popular and much admired during the Han period, and it was generally felt that their literary elegance lent heft to the arguments they contained. Section 19.1 thus gives us a very good sense of how a formal argument might have been presented at a ruler’s court.
Sections 19.2, 19.3, 19.5, 19.6, and 19.7 are affirmations. Each begins by stating a philosophical principle that in most cases is followed by the interrogative “How might I illustrate this point?” (He yi ming zhi ) or “How do I know this to be so?” (He yi zhi qi ran ). The explanation then follows, sometimes closing with a flourish by quoting from the Odes, as in sections 19.5, 19.6, and 19.7.
These model arguments in Huainanzi 19 likely belong to a long tradition of refutation and argumentation of which examples survive in various Warring States and Han collections—such as the Xunzi, Hanfeizi, Chunqiu fanlu, and Lun heng —and records of two Han court debates, the Yantie lun (Debates on Salt and Iron) and the Bohu tong (Comprehensive Discussions in the White Tiger Hall). Each of these collections contains various kinds of assertions, refutations, critiques, and rebuttals. Chapter 5 of the Xunzi, “Fei xiang” (Opposing Physiognomy), and chapter 6, “Fei shi er zi” (Opposing the Twelve Masters), are perhaps the best-known earlier examples. In “Opposing Physiognomy,” Xunzi refutes the notion popular in his day that the destiny of a person could be predicted by assessing his physical attributes. He does so using numerous examples to demonstrate that physical attributes are essentially serendipitous. Rather than referring to physiognomers and their clients in his own time, Xunzi cites mainly famous figures from the past, such as Confucius, the Duke of Zhou, and King Djou, whose accomplishments and faults were beyond question to an audience in the Warring States period.3 In “Opposing the Twelve Masters,”4 Xunzi rails against twelve philosophers whose teachings and influences he found to be especially pernicious and injurious to social harmony. Since Xunzi’s preferred style of rhetorical combat is to support his arguments with specific historical examples, we might characterize his particular style of refutation as “peremptory refutation.”
Less well known are the four “Nan” chapters of the Hanfeizi. “Refutations, Parts 1 to 4” (Nan yi, er, s
an, si) follow a similar format, which we might call the “anecdotal refutation.” These chapters include a number of anecdotes that illustrate a didactic moral or state a particular philosophical position that is then followed by the refutation in the words of an anonymous critic, beginning with the set phrase huo yue (someone says).5 These “anecdotal refutations” were likely well known to Han audiences from the examples collected in the Hanfeizi or other sources that have since been lost. On one occasion, the Huainanzi explicitly attributes such an “anecdotal refutation” to Hanfeizi.6 This form of refutation seems to have been frequently employed by Master Han Fei, judging from the numerous examples preserved in the work that carries his name. The following example typifies this literary form:
Anecdote: Viscount Xiang was surrounded in Jinyang. When he broke the siege, he rewarded five men who served meritoriously, and Gao She was the first to be rewarded. Thereupon Zhang Mengtan said: “During the siege at Jinyang, She rendered no great meritorious service. Why now do you reward him first?” Viscount Xiang replied: “During the crisis at Jinyang, our state and families were imperiled and our altars of soil and grain were endangered. Among our officials, there was not one who did not harbor a proud and arrogant heart. She alone did not stray from the propriety owed by the minister to the ruler. This is why I rewarded him first.” When Zhongni [Confucius] heard about this, he said: “Viscount Xiang [truly] excelled at bestowing rewards! He rewarded one man, and all those who served as ministers in the world, without exception, did not dare stray from propriety.”7
Rebuttal: Someone said: Zhongni did not understand excellence in rewarding. When the ruler excels at conferring rewards and punishments, the numerous officials will not dare overstep their commissions, and the innumerable ministers will not dare stray from propriety. If the ruler promulgates the laws [clearly], then subordinates will not harbor treacherous and deceitful hearts. When the ruler acts in this manner, it may be said that he excels at conferring rewards and punishments. If when Viscount Xiang was in Jinyang, his orders were not implemented and his prohibitions stopped nothing, this would amount to Viscount Xiang’s having no state and Jinyang’s having no ruler. Then with whom could he defend the city? Now, when Viscount Xiang was surrounded in Jinyang, even though the Zhi clan inundated the city until frogs made their nests inside the mortars and ovens, the people still did not harbor rebellious hearts. Thus, too, should ruler and minister have cleaved to each other with affection. Now if Viscount Xiang had been bathed in the affection owed by his ministers to their ruler, and if Viscount Xiang wielded the laws in such a way that his orders were effective and his prohibitions were enforceable, yet there still remained ministers who harbored proud and arrogant hearts, it must have been the case that Viscount Xiang strayed from the [appropriate] punishments [in dealing with his ministers]. When ministers serve meritoriously when situations arise, they should be rewarded. Now She alone was neither proud nor arrogant, and so Viscount Xiang rewarded him. This is a case of straying from the [appropriate] reward. The enlightened ruler neither rewards those who are not meritorious nor punishes those who are not guilty. Now Viscount Xiang did not punish those ministers who harbored a proud and arrogant heart, yet he rewarded the unmeritorious She. Where, then, does his excellence in bestowing reward reside? Thus the claim: “Zhongni did not understand excellence in rewarding.”8
The tradition of affirmation and rebuttal continues in several works that were composed after the Huainanzi but that apparently preserve earlier materials. The Chunqiu fanlu (Luxuriant Gems of the Spring and Autumn), attributed to Dong Zhongshu of the Western Han dynasty (late second century B.C.E.), contains fragments of various debates and discussions in this tradition. Chapter 25, “Yao and Shun Did Not Presumptuously Transfer the Throne; Tang and Wu Did Not Unauthorizedly Murder the Ruler” (Yao Shun bu shan yi; Tang Wu bu zhuan sha ;), preserves a brief record of the historically documented court debate between Master Huang and Yuan Gu9 held before Emperor Jing (r. 156–140 B.C.E.), as well as other exchanges of opinion ranging from propositions concerning the Spring and Autumn Annals to certain aspects of yin–yang cosmology. Here the critical voice is introduced by the set phrase nan zhe yue , which may be variously understood as “one raising an objection stated” or “someone who found this difficult to accept said.” This form of rebuttal differs from the “anecdotal rebuttal” typical of the Hanfeizi. In the Chunqiu fanlu, the rebuttals are part of dialogues, so we might call them “diaological rebuttals.” There is a kind of back-and-forth or give-and-take between the person who sets out a particular proposition and the person who expresses an objection or difficulty with the given assertion.10
A number of chapters in Wang Chong’s Lun heng (Discourses Weighed in the Balance [first century C.E.]) preserve various refutations and critiques. Chapter 28, “Questioning Confucius” (Wen Kong ), chapter 29, “Opposing Han [Feizi]” (Fei Han ), and chapter 30, “Negating Mencius” (Ci Meng ) contain refutations of philosophical propositions attributed to Confucius, Han Feizi, and Mencius. These differ yet again from those preserved in the Hanfeizi and the Chunqiu fanlu. Not “peremptory,” “anecdotal,” or “diaological,” each of these refutations begins with a citation from the Analects or Mencius (or, in the case of “Opposing Han,” a paraphrase of the views of the Hanfeizi) that is then critiqued by means of a detailed prose analysis. Accordingly, we might identify this form of critique as the “extended refutation.”
The importance of techniques of oral debate in the Han period can be gauged from the two records of imperially mandated court debates mentioned: the Debates on Salt and Iron11 and the Comprehensive Discussions in the White Tiger Hall.12 Salt and Iron records a debate on state economic policy held in 81 B.C.E. in the presence of Emperor Zhao (r. 87–73 B.C.E.) and purports to transcribe verbatim the arguments made by Grand Secretary Sang Hongyang in favor of an authoritarian policy, and the equally vehement rebuttals made by Huan Kuan and other representatives of the literati. Comprehensive Discussions summarizes a debate about how the classics should be understood and their role in the formulation of policy, convened in 79 C.E. by Emperor Zhang (r. 76–89 C.E.) of the Later Han dynasty. The record is in the form of topical questions followed by answers and explanations. Behind these rather bland summaries are some of the high-stakes arguments among scholars and court officials over which editions and commentarial traditions of the classics should be considered authoritative.
From these examples, it is clear that the kinds of debating skills featured in “Cultivating Effort” were an essential part of the education of anyone who hoped to play a role in politics and government in the Han era.
The Chapter in the Context of the Huainanzi as a Whole
As noted in the general introduction to this book, one way of looking at the Huainanzi and understanding the principles of its organization is to regard it as a curriculum for the education of an aspiring monarch. Seen in this light, chapter 19 plays a dual role. It instructs, using examples, how to frame affirmations and refutations in oral debate, and as chapters 16 and 17 do as well, it equips its reader to evaluate the arguments of others. But as important as this training in rhetorical techniques was, the content of the chapter is given equal weight. In earlier chapters of the Huainanzi (for example, chapter 8), the reader encountered numerous instances in which the moral authority of a sage apparently was sufficient to bring about good government. Here, however, the author warns the reader that there is no easy path to the cultivation of sagehood and that it is a mistake to think that “non-action” is a license to do nothing. On the contrary, the chapter states in no uncertain terms that effort is, and has always been, an essential quality of a ruler. The chapter summary in chapter 21 reinforces this point, saying bluntly that idleness and laziness will surely obstruct one from the Great Way. A later passage from chapter 21 then reiterates the same point when it insists that he who fails to familiarize himself with chapter 19 will surely “lack the means to inspire scholars to exert their utmost strength” (21.3).
No ruler can hope to have energetic officials if he does not cultivate effort himself. Chapter 19 thus sets the stage for the next chapter, “The Exalted Lineage,” which recapitulates many of the themes of the book as a whole. When the book’s young royal reader has learned to cultivate effort, his education will be nearly complete.
Sarah A. Queen and John S. Major
1. This chapter title has many shades of meaning and so can have many possible translations. Ames 1994, 19, uses “Striving with Effort.” Csikszentmihalyi, 2004, 24, translates it as “Discipline and Facility.” Le Blanc and Mathieu’s 2003 understanding of the title is similar to our own: “Du devoir de se cultiver.”
2. This statement is nearly the same as in 8.6.
3. See Knoblock 1988, 1:196–205; and the comment on 198.
4. Knoblock 1988, 1:212–29.
5. “Refutations, Part 1,” contains nine anecdotes and refutations; “Refutations, Part 2,” contains eight anecdotes and refutations; and “Refutations, Part 3,” contains nine anecdotes, three of which have lost their rebuttals, as well as two statements attributed to Guanzi, each of which is followed by a rebuttal. “Refutations, Part 4,” preserves four anecdotes, each followed by two rebuttals.
For a different style of refutation, see Hanfeizi, chap. 40, “A Refutation of Political Purchase” (Nan shi ), in which Shen Dao’s ideas about political purchase are quoted and critiqued. See HFZ 40/127/31–40/129/22.
6. Compare HFZ 36/115/22–25 with Huainanzi 11.15 (11/100/24–26), which refers explicitly to Han Feizi:
Duke Ping of Jin let slip words that were not correct. Music Master Kuang raised his qin and bumped into him, so that he tripped on his robe and [struck] the wall. The courtiers wanted to plaster [the damaged spot]. Duke Ping said, “Leave it. This will [remind] me of my fault.”