---
title: "Dwelling, One Observes the Images; Acting, One Observes the Changes -- Reading the Chapter \"The Sage Established the Hexagrams and Observed the Images\" from the Upper Xici"
description: "A line-by-line reading of the second chapter of the Upper Xici. The sage's four acts -- establishing the hexagrams, observing the images, appending the statements, clarifying fortune and misfortune -- run in exact reverse order to the noble person's four acts -- observing the images, savoring the statements, observing the changes, savoring the divination. The four clauses \"is the image of...\" form a chain tracing effect back to cause; \"the repose in which he dwells\" echoes the Doctrine of the Mean's \"dwelling in ease, awaiting the Mandate\"; and the chapter closes by quoting the top line of hexagram Da You, \"From Heaven comes its aid,\" gathering the whole into the two words compliance and good faith. Grounded in Confucian and Daoist thought, and drawing on the Analects, Mencius, Laozi, Zhuangzi, Xunzi, and the Zuo Tradition, it explores how the noble person finds repose between Heaven and Earth and acts amid change."
date: 2026-09-03
author: Xuanji Editorial Board
cover: "https://pub-3a45e04801a641b79b5b4303c5ae7394.r2.dev/blog-covers/系辞传/居则观其象动则观其变.png"
tags:
  - Zhouyi
  - Xici Zhuan
  - Pre-Qin
  - Confucianism
  - Daoism
  - Observing the Images and Savoring the Statements
  - Fortune, Misfortune, Regret, and Remorse
  - The Way of the Three Ultimates
  - The Noble Person
---

# Dwelling, One Observes the Images; Acting, One Observes the Changes: Reading the Chapter "The Sage Established the Hexagrams and Observed the Images" from the Upper Xici

> *This article was translated from the original Chinese by AI. Nuances may differ from the source.*

> The sages established the hexagrams and observed the images; they appended statements to them and thereby clarified fortune and misfortune. The firm and the yielding push against each other and generate change and transformation. Therefore fortune and misfortune are the images of loss and gain. Regret and remorse are the images of anxious care. Change and transformation are the images of advance and withdrawal. The firm and the yielding are the images of day and night. The motion of the six lines is the Way of the Three Ultimates. Therefore the repose in which the noble person dwells is the order of the Changes; that in which he delights and which he savors is the statements on the lines. Therefore, dwelling, the noble person observes the images and savors their statements; acting, he observes the changes and savors the divination. Thus: from Heaven comes its aid -- fortune, and nothing but advantage.

This passage is the second chapter of the Upper *Xici Zhuan*. It is short -- barely a hundred characters -- yet within it lies the whole account of how the *Changes* came to be and how it is to be used: the first half tells how the sages made it; the second half tells how the noble person uses it; and in between, several clauses of "is the image of..." tie the two halves together. Readers of the *Changes* often treat this chapter as a mere set of instructions, glance through it, and move on, taking it for nothing more than an account of its format. But read closely, every sentence in this chapter answers to something elsewhere, and every word is placed with exact deliberation. The sage's four acts and the noble person's four acts correspond to each other in precise reverse order; the four clauses "is the image of..." form a chain tracing effect back to cause; the phrase "the repose in which he dwells" echoes the *Doctrine of the Mean*'s "dwelling in ease, awaiting the Mandate"; and at the chapter's close, the quotation of the top line of hexagram *Da You* (Great Possession), "from Heaven comes its aid," gathers the whole chapter into the two words compliance and good faith. Some of these correspondences are clues that the author of the *Xici* deliberately laid down; others are the natural resonance among the various texts of the pre-Qin period.

This essay is concerned chiefly with meaning and principle; it does not dwell on philological glosses, nor does it dispute the minutiae of hexagram sequence or line position. It draws only upon the Canon and Commentaries of the *Changes* themselves, together with such pre-Qin texts as the *Analects*, *Mencius*, the *Doctrine of the Mean*, the *Great Learning*, *Laozi*, *Zhuangzi*, *Xunzi*, the *Zuo Tradition*, and the *Book of Songs*. Confucianism and Daoism are taken as orthodox; the other schools serve only as corroborating evidence. Readers willing to work through this passage sentence by sentence will find that it describes not a set of divinatory techniques, but the daily discipline by which the noble person finds repose between Heaven and Earth and acts amid change.

## 1 One Chapter, Two Halves: The Sage Makes, the Noble Person Learns

### 1.1 The Skeleton of the Chapter

#### 1.1.1 The First Half: The Sage's Four Acts

In this line -- "the sages established the hexagrams and observed the images; they appended statements to them and thereby clarified fortune and misfortune" -- the sage performs four acts: establishing the hexagrams, observing the images, appending the statements, and clarifying fortune and misfortune. Establishing the hexagrams means laying out the six lines; observing the images means examining the configuration these six lines display; appending the statements means attaching words beneath the hexagram and its lines; clarifying fortune and misfortune means letting these words make plain what is lost and what is gained. The four acts form a single process moving from the formless to the formed, from Heaven and Earth to human affairs.

On the four characters "established the hexagrams and observed the images," ancient commentators long disputed whether hexagrams were established first and images observed afterward, or images observed first and hexagrams established afterward. This essay will not linger on the dispute, but will note one point: both directions in fact hold, and both must hold. The Lower *Xici* says: "In ancient times, when Baoxi ruled the world, he looked upward and observed the images in the heavens, looked downward and observed the models on the earth, observed the markings of birds and beasts and the suitabilities of the land, took near at hand from his own body and far off from other things, and thereupon first created the eight trigrams." Here the images of Heaven and Earth are observed first, and only afterward do the hexagrams exist. But once a hexagram is established, it becomes in turn an image that can itself be observed. The sage observes the images of Heaven and Earth and establishes the hexagrams; he then observes the image of the hexagram and appends the statements. The image here serves as an intermediary, joined on one side to Heaven and Earth, and on the other to the written word.

"The firm and the yielding push against each other and generate change and transformation" completes the previous sentence. The previous sentence concerns what the sage makes; this one concerns the operation of the hexagrams and lines themselves. The firm is the yang line, the yielding is the yin line, and "push against each other" means they displace and succeed one another. Change and transformation are not something the sage adds in; they arise naturally from the firm and the yielding pushing against each other. The sage only establishes the hexagrams and appends the statements, thereby displaying this natural change. This point will be taken up again below, when we discuss the word "clarify."

#### 1.1.2 The Second Half: The Noble Person's Four Acts

"Therefore, dwelling, the noble person observes the images and savors their statements; acting, he observes the changes and savors the divination." The noble person likewise performs four acts: observing the images, savoring the statements, observing the changes, and savoring the divination. These four acts fall into two groups, one belonging to "dwelling," the other to "acting." While dwelling, he examines the images of the hexagrams and lines, and savors their statements. While acting, he examines the changes among the line positions, and savors the results of divination.

These four acts employ the very same set of terms as the sage's four acts before them: image and statement, together with change, which arises from the pushing of the firm and the yielding, and divination, which arises from the clarifying of fortune and misfortune. What the sage makes is precisely what the noble person learns. This is no coincidence; the author of the *Xici* deliberately wrote the two halves as a matched pair.

Between the sage's four acts and the noble person's four acts are inserted two further clauses: "the repose in which the noble person dwells is the order of the *Changes*; that in which he delights and which he savors is the statements on the lines." These two clauses serve as a transition, describing the noble person's two attitudes toward the *Changes*: toward its order, repose; toward its statements, delight. Repose and delight are precisely the psychological foundation for "dwelling" and "acting" discussed below. This point will be treated at length in Chapters 5 and 6.

#### 1.1.3 The Middle: Four Clauses of "Is the Image of..." and One Clause on "the Way of the Three Ultimates"

Between the first half and the second half stand five clauses: "Fortune and misfortune are the images of loss and gain. Regret and remorse are the images of anxious care. Change and transformation are the images of advance and withdrawal. The firm and the yielding are the images of day and night. The motion of the six lines is the Way of the Three Ultimates."

The first four clauses share a uniform pattern: "X is the image of Y." They function like a translation table, rendering four terms from the hexagram and line statements back into human affairs and the Way of Heaven. Fortune and misfortune are translated as loss and gain; regret and remorse as anxious care; change and transformation as advance and withdrawal; the firm and the yielding as day and night. With this table in hand, the reader of the statements can know what the statements are speaking of, and the observer of the images can know what the images point to. The fifth clause, "the motion of the six lines is the Way of the Three Ultimates," differs in form: it speaks of the underlying principle governing the operation of all six lines together, that is, the Way of the three ultimates -- Heaven, Earth, and Man.

This chapter uses the word "therefore" twice. The first "therefore" introduces the fourfold translation table; the second "therefore" introduces the noble person's dwelling and acting. The two occurrences of "therefore" divide the whole chapter into three sections: the sage's making of the *Changes*, the images within the *Changes*, and the noble person's use of the *Changes*. The three sections advance in layers, from creation to understanding to practice.

### 1.2 The Path Retraced

#### 1.2.1 The Sage Moves from Image to Statement; the Noble Person Returns from Statement to Image

Placing the sage's four acts and the noble person's four acts side by side reveals an interesting directionality. The sage's path runs: observing the images of Heaven and Earth, establishing the hexagrams, appending the statements, clarifying fortune and misfortune. This moves from the wordless Heaven and Earth, to the worded statements, and on to the fortune and misfortune that the statements make plain. The noble person's path runs: dwelling, he observes the images and savors the statements; acting, he observes the changes and savors the divination. On the surface, the noble person too observes the images first and then savors the statements, seeming to move in the same direction as the sage. But the "image" before the noble person is no longer the original image of Heaven and Earth, but the hexagram-image already established by the sage; the "statement" before the noble person is the statement already appended by the sage. Starting from the hexagram-image and the written statement, the noble person seeks to return to that very Heaven and Earth which the sage once observed.

In other words, the sage moves forward along the path of creation, from Heaven and Earth to the written word; the noble person moves backward along that same path of creation, from the written word to Heaven and Earth. The sage generates the statement from the image; the noble person returns to the image from the statement. The sage clarifies fortune and misfortune by way of change and transformation; the noble person observes change and transformation by way of divination. To study the *Changes* is to retrace, in reverse, the path by which the sage made the *Changes*. This point is the key to understanding the whole chapter: the noble person's four acts are not four techniques, but a single path of retracing. Retracing back to where$1 Back to that very Heaven and Earth the sage observed, back to that original change and transformation in which the firm and the yielding push against each other and day and night succeed one another.

The Master (Confucius) said, "I transmit but do not create; I trust in and love antiquity." To transmit is to walk back along the path made by those who came before. The noble person's study of the *Changes* is transmission, not creation -- yet transmission, carried to its furthest point, arrives at the same Heaven and Earth that the sage once saw. This is why studying the *Changes* can bring about the result "from Heaven comes its aid": not because one has learned some secret formula, but because one has walked back to the original order of Heaven and Earth.

#### 1.2.2 Cross-Verification with "The Sage's Way Has Four Aspects"

Later in the Upper *Xici* there is a passage that can be cross-verified with this chapter: "The *Changes* contains four aspects of the sage's Way: one who would speak esteems its statements; one who would act esteems its changes; one who would fashion implements esteems its images; one who would divine by milfoil esteems its results of divination." The four things named here -- statement, change, image, divination -- are precisely the four terms in this chapter's account of the noble person's four acts. This chapter says the noble person "observes the images and savors their statements," "observes the changes and savors the divination"; that other passage says the sage's Way consists in these same four things: statement, change, image, divination. Reading the two passages together, one can see that this chapter's four acts of the noble person are not four actions jotted down at random, but the four roads of the *Changes* itself.

That passage continues: "Thus when the noble person is about to act, about to undertake something, he inquires of it in words, and it receives his charge as an echo answers a sound." Here "about to act, about to undertake something" is precisely this chapter's "acting." That passage also says, "The *Changes* has no thought and no deliberate action; it is still and unmoving, and when stirred it penetrates all the affairs of the world" -- here "still and unmoving" is precisely this chapter's "dwelling." The two passages are outer and inner aspects of one another: this chapter begins from the noble person's daily practice, that passage begins from the very substance of the *Changes*, yet both speak of the same thing.

### 1.3 The Word "Clarify": Fortune and Misfortune Are Not Made

#### 1.3.1 "Fortune and Misfortune Are Generated" and "Clarifying Fortune and Misfortune"

This chapter says the sage "appended statements to them and thereby clarified fortune and misfortune." Note the word "clarify." The first chapter of the Upper *Xici* says: "Directions gather together according to kind, and things divide into groups; thus fortune and misfortune are generated." Fortune and misfortune are "generated" -- generated out of the gathering of things by kind and their division into groups, generated out of the operation of things themselves. Here in this chapter, the sage only "clarifies" fortune and misfortune; he does not "generate" it, still less "fix" it. Fortune and misfortune are already present within things; what the sage does is simply to illuminate it with the written word, so that people may see it.

This single word dispels a common misunderstanding: the notion that the hexagram statement prescribes fortune or misfortune, and that once one divines a particular hexagram or line, one has been judged fortunate or unfortunate. It is not so. Fortune and misfortune reside in the affair, not in the statement; the statement merely gives voice to the fortune or misfortune already present within the affair. Take the same phrase, "it is advantageous to cross the great river" -- whether one crosses or not still rests with the person himself. The function of the sage's appending of statements is to make things clear to people, not to decide on their behalf.

The first chapter of the Upper *Xici* also says: "In Heaven it forms images; on Earth it forms shapes; thus change and transformation are made manifest." Change and transformation are "made manifest," that is, they appear. Change and transformation have always been operating within Heaven and Earth; it is only once they form images and shapes that people come to see them. This "made manifest" carries the same sense as this chapter's "clarify." The sage's establishing of the hexagrams lets people see the change and transformation already present within Heaven and Earth; the sage's appending of statements lets people understand the fortune and misfortune already present within things. The sage who made the *Changes* is not a creator of things, but an illuminator of them.

#### 1.3.2 The Most High's "To Know the Constant Is Called Clarity"

The Most High (Laozi) said: "Attain the utmost emptiness; hold fast to stillness with all sincerity. The myriad things arise together, and by this I observe their return. All things, in their profusion, each return to their root. To return to the root is called stillness; this is called returning to one's fate. To return to one's fate is called the constant; to know the constant is called clarity." Here "clarity" means knowing the constant Way by which the myriad things operate. The myriad things arise together and each return to its root -- this is the constant. To know this constant is clarity. Clarity does not create anything new; it sees clearly what was already there.

Reading this line of the Most High against this chapter's "clarifying fortune and misfortune" makes the meaning still more transparent. The sage's clarifying of fortune and misfortune is the sage's knowing of the constant. That the firm and the yielding push against each other and generate change and transformation, that day and night succeed one another and form the years and months -- this is the constant. Things operate within this constant Way: to comply with it is to gain, to go against it is to lose, and this is precisely fortune and misfortune. The sage sees this constant Way and speaks it through the statements -- this is "clarifying." When the noble person reads the statements, he too is seeking to know this constant. The Most High also said, "Not to know the constant, and to act recklessly, is misfortune." Not knowing the constant and acting recklessly is the very source of misfortune. This accords entirely with the *Changes*' view of fortune and misfortune: misfortune is not a punishment imposed from outside, but the result of acting recklessly in ignorance of the constant.

So the word "clarify" at the head of this chapter has, all along, quietly determined the nature of the whole chapter. The *Changes* is not a book of prophecy; it is a book that makes things clear to people. The sage clarifies it, the noble person learns it, and what is clarified is one and the same constant Way. With this understanding in hand, when we go on to read the four clauses "is the image of..." below, we can see that they are not a glossary of divinatory terms, but four keys translating the constant Way into human affairs.

## 2 The Four Clauses "Is the Image of...": A Chain Tracing Effect Back to Cause

### 2.1 The Sequence of the Four Images

#### 2.1.1 Loss and Gain, Anxious Care, Advance and Withdrawal, Day and Night

"Fortune and misfortune are the images of loss and gain. Regret and remorse are the images of anxious care. Change and transformation are the images of advance and withdrawal. The firm and the yielding are the images of day and night." The order in which these four clauses are arranged deserves close examination.

Fortune and misfortune correspond to loss and gain. Loss and gain are the result of an affair -- what one obtains or loses once a matter has run its course. Regret and remorse correspond to anxious care: anxiety (*you*) is apprehension, care (*yu*) is wariness and precaution. Anxious care is a state of mind, the caution and unease a person feels while a matter is still under way. Change and transformation correspond to advance and withdrawal: advance and withdrawal are action, the choice a person makes, within a given situation, to move forward or draw back. The firm and the yielding correspond to day and night: day and night are the timing of Heaven, a rhythm that a person cannot control but can only comply with.

The four clauses run, in order: result, state of mind, action, the timing of Heaven. The first three lie on the human side; the fourth lies on Heaven's side. The first three can be further distinguished: loss and gain are the outward result, anxious care is the inward feeling, and advance and withdrawal are the motion between inward and outward. Each layer runs deeper than the last. The four clauses move, step by step, from the most superficial -- loss and gain -- to the most fundamental -- day and night.

Arranged this way, one can see that the author of the *Xici* did not simply list four terms at random. There is a sequence running through the four clauses, from the surface inward and from Man to Heaven. What one sees on the surface is fortune and misfortune; tracing inward, one finds regret and remorse; tracing further inward, change and transformation; tracing to the very bottom, the firm and the yielding. And the firm and the yielding are precisely day and night, the operation of Heaven itself.

#### 2.1.2 Reading Forward and Reading in Reverse

Reading these four clauses forward moves from the surface to the depths, forming a path of understanding: one first sees the result of fortune and misfortune, then apprehends the feeling of anxious care, then perceives the pivot of advance and withdrawal, and finally understands that everything is rooted in the timing of Heaven -- day and night. Reading these four clauses in reverse forms a path of practice: one first understands the timing of Heaven -- day and night -- and on this basis decides one's own advance and withdrawal, maintains a mind of anxious care throughout that advance and withdrawal, and only then arrives at the result of loss and gain.

This reverse path is precisely the order in which the noble person conducts his affairs. The noble person does not fix his eyes on fortune and misfortune and pursue them directly; he looks first to the timing of Heaven. Once the timing of Heaven is clear, advance and withdrawal have a basis. Once advance and withdrawal have a basis, one must still hold fast to a mind of anxious care, not daring to grow careless. Proceeding this way, the resulting loss or gain is no matter of luck, but the natural outcome of following the proper course. Master Meng (Mencius) said, "There is no calamity or blessing that one does not bring upon oneself" -- precisely this meaning: fortune and misfortune are not something pursued directly, but something derived, step by step, from the timing of Heaven, from advance and withdrawal, from anxious care.

A line in the Lower *Xici* corroborates this way of reading: "The firm and the yielding are what establish the root; change and adaptation are what pursue the moment." The firm and the yielding are the root; change and adaptation pursue the moment. This corresponds exactly to this chapter's pairing of the firm and the yielding with day and night, and change and transformation with advance and withdrawal. Day and night are the root, the rhythm fixed by Heaven; advance and withdrawal pursue the moment, the human response within that rhythm. Only once the root is established can one pursue the moment -- this is the first step of reading the four clauses in reverse.

The Lower *Xici* also says: "Fortune, misfortune, regret, and remorse are generated by movement." Fortune, misfortune, regret, and remorse are all generated by movement, and movement is advance and withdrawal. This line strings together the first three of the four images: the movement of advance and withdrawal generates the regret and remorse of anxious care, which generates the fortune and misfortune of loss and gain. And the basis of that movement is the root of the firm and the yielding, of day and night. In this way, the four clauses "is the image of..." become a single, complete chain.

### 2.2 "The Firm and the Yielding Are the Images of Day and Night": The Firm and the Yielding Are Time

#### 2.2.1 To Push Against Each Other Is to Succeed One Another

Of the four clauses, the most crucial is the last: "the firm and the yielding are the images of day and night." The firm is the yang line, the yielding is the yin line -- the two most basic elements in the drawing of the hexagrams. That the author of the *Xici* calls them the images of day and night is a statement of the greatest weight.

Day and night are not two separate things; they are two successive phases within a single stretch of time. Day is not a thing, nor is night. Day is the interval from dawn to dusk; night is the interval from dusk to dawn. Day and night speak of the rhythm of time, not the nature of any object. To call the firm and the yielding the images of day and night is to say that the firm and the yielding, too, are not two kinds of material nature, but two positions in time. The firm is time having arrived at this phase; the yielding is time having arrived at that phase. The firm is not hardness, and the yielding is not softness; the firm and the yielding are the two phases within a single day, the two aspects within a single cycle.

Understood this way, the words "push against each other" in this chapter's opening line -- "the firm and the yielding push against each other and generate change and transformation" -- come alive. To push against each other is not two objects crowding against one another, but day pushing against night and night pushing against day, time moving ever forward. The Lower *Xici* puts it most plainly: "The sun departs and the moon arrives; the moon departs and the sun arrives; sun and moon push against each other, and brightness is generated thereby. Cold departs and heat arrives; heat departs and cold arrives; cold and heat push against each other, and the year is completed thereby." The pushing of sun against moon, of cold against heat -- both are the passage of time. Brightness and the year are both generated in the course of time's passage. That the firm and the yielding push against each other and generate change and transformation is exactly the same principle: change and transformation are nothing other than time itself.

The *Xici* says the *Changes* "changes and moves without staying fixed, circulating through the six empty positions, rising and falling without constancy, the firm and the yielding exchanging places, admitting no fixed rule, following only where change leads." That the firm and the yielding exchange places means the firm can become the yielding, and the yielding can become the firm. If the firm and the yielding were a material nature, how could a hard object soften of itself$2 But if the firm and the yielding are positions in time, then day becoming night and night becoming day is the most natural thing in the world. That the firm and the yielding can exchange places is possible precisely because the firm and the yielding were, all along, the images of day and night.

#### 2.2.2 Master Zhuang's "Day and Night Succeed Each Other"

Master Zhuang (Zhuangzi), in the "Discussion on Making All Things Equal," said: "Day and night succeed one another before us, yet no one knows whence they sprout." Day and night alternate before people's eyes, yet no one knows where this alternation springs from. This is precisely what this chapter's "the firm and the yielding push against each other" describes. To succeed one another is to push against each other. In the succession of day and night, people see only the succession, not its sprouting; in the pushing of the firm against the yielding, people see only the pushing, not what causes it.

Master Zhuang also said: "Just as there is life there is death; just as there is death there is life. Just as there is the admissible there is the inadmissible; just as there is the inadmissible there is the admissible." Life and death, the admissible and the inadmissible, are not two separate states, but mutually contain one another at the very same moment. What is now living already contains death; what is now dying already contains life. This accords with the *Changes*' view of the firm and the yielding: a yang line already contains within it the tendency toward yin; a yin line already contains within it the tendency toward yang. Within the firm is the presage of the yielding to come; within the yielding is the presage of the firm to come. This is why the *Changes* says "the firm and the yielding push against each other," not "the firm and the yielding stand opposed." To stand opposed is for two things each to occupy one side; to push against each other is for two phases each to contain the other within itself.

These words of Master Zhuang come from the Daoist tradition, while this chapter comes from the *Changes* as transmitted by the Confucian tradition; yet on this single point -- that change and transformation are time itself -- the two schools see entirely alike. This is no coincidence. Both Confucianism and Daoism draw their principles from the operation of Heaven and Earth, and the most conspicuous expression of that operation is precisely the succession of day and night, cold and heat.

#### 2.2.3 The True Meaning of the Most High's Esteem for the Yielding

The Most High esteemed the yielding, saying "the soft and weak overcome the hard and strong," and "the hard and strong belong to the company of death; the soft and weak belong to the company of life." This appears to differ from the *Changes*' attitude of giving equal weight to the firm and the yielding. The *Changes* places Qian first among the hexagrams, and Qian is pure firmness -- the *Changes* does not disparage firmness. But once the firm and the yielding are understood as the images of day and night, the Most High's esteem for the yielding admits of another reading.

The Most High said, "Reversal is the movement of the Way." The movement of the Way turns toward its opposite. When the firm reaches its height, it must turn toward the yielding; when the yielding reaches its height, it must turn toward the firm. This is precisely the firm and the yielding pushing against each other. Within this pushing tendency, what is the wise course$3 To hold fast to what is about to come, not to what has already reached its height. Since the firm has already reached its height, the yielding must necessarily come next -- hence one holds to the yielding. This does not mean the yielding is inherently better than the firm; it means that holding to the yielding while the firm is at its height is to move along the very direction in which the Way is moving. The Most High also said, "The Way that advances seems to retreat" -- likewise meaning that, within a given situation, following the pushing tendency often requires choosing the opposite of what the present situation would suggest.

Read this way, the Most High's esteem for the yielding does not conflict with the *Changes*' notion of the firm and the yielding pushing against each other; rather, it is an application of the *Changes*' principle to a particular moment in time. The top line of hexagram Qian, "the arrogant dragon has cause for regret" -- when the firm reaches its utmost, regret follows -- is precisely the fate of firmness at its height that fails to know how to hold to the yielding. The *Wenyan* commentary on Qian says, "Is it not only the sage who knows advance and withdrawal, survival and ruin, and does not lose the correct course$4" To know advance and withdrawal, survival and ruin, and yet never lose the correct course -- this is the sage. The Most High's holding to the yielding is the way of knowing when to withdraw and survive; the *Changes*' "the arrogant dragon has cause for regret" is a warning against the fault of firm advance. What the two say is one and the same principle of the firm and the yielding pushing against each other.

### 2.3 "Change and Transformation Are the Images of Advance and Withdrawal": Change Lies with Man

#### 2.3.1 Knowing Advance and Withdrawal, Survival and Ruin

The third of the four clauses, "change and transformation are the images of advance and withdrawal," traces the change and transformation of the hexagrams and lines back to human advance and withdrawal. This clause likewise deserves attention. Change and transformation belong to Heaven; advance and withdrawal belong to Man. Heaven's change and transformation are day and night, cold and heat; within this change, all a person can do is advance or withdraw. Advance and withdrawal are the only two basic postures a person can take in the face of change.

The *Wenyan* commentary on Qian says: "Is it not only the sage who knows advance and withdrawal, survival and ruin, and does not lose the correct course$5" Advance and withdrawal are paired here with survival and ruin: advance and withdrawal are action, survival and ruin are result. To know advance and withdrawal is to be able to attain survival. But knowing advance and withdrawal is not enough; one must also "not lose the correct course." What is the correct course$6 It is what accords with the moment. To advance when advance is called for, to withdraw when withdrawal is called for -- this is correct. To advance when withdrawal is called for, to withdraw when advance is called for -- this is incorrect. So advance and withdrawal are not an arbitrary choice, but something determined by the moment. And the moment is day and night, is the firm and the yielding. This returns us again to the reverse reading of the four clauses: first understand the moment of the firm and the yielding, and only then determine the movement of advance and withdrawal.

The *Tuan* commentary on hexagram Gen (Restraint) says: "When it is time to stop, stop; when it is time to move, move. When movement and stillness never lose their proper moment, the Way is bright and clear." To stop is to withdraw; to move is to advance. Both stopping and moving take the moment as their standard; when the moment is never lost, the Way is bright and clear. This "bright and clear" echoes this chapter's opening phrase, "clarifying fortune and misfortune." When movement and stillness never lose their proper moment, fortune and misfortune naturally become clear.

#### 2.3.2 Establishing the Root and Pursuing the Moment

The Lower *Xici*'s line "the firm and the yielding are what establish the root; change and adaptation are what pursue the moment" has already been quoted above. These two clauses serve as exact commentary on the third and fourth clauses of this chapter. "The firm and the yielding establish the root" corresponds to "the firm and the yielding are the images of day and night." "Change and adaptation pursue the moment" corresponds to "change and transformation are the images of advance and withdrawal." The root is fixed by Heaven; the moment is what Man pursues. Man cannot fix the root; he can only pursue the moment.

This same idea appears in other Confucian texts as well. The *Doctrine of the Mean* says, "the noble person, being a noble person, holds to the mean according to the moment" -- holding to the mean according to the moment is precisely pursuing the moment. Master Meng called the Master (Confucius) "the sage of timeliness," meaning that the Master was supremely capable of pursuing the moment. To pursue the moment is not to drift with the current, but to make the appropriate advance or withdrawal upon a root already fixed. The root does not depend on Man; the moment is what Man pursues -- this is the space for action that the *Changes* leaves to human beings.

What a person does within this space is precisely advance and withdrawal. Whether advance and withdrawal is done rightly depends on whether it accords with the moment. If it accords with the moment, anxious care can turn into fortune; if it does not accord with the moment, anxious care will fall into misfortune. So the four clauses "is the image of..." lead, from advance and withdrawal, upward to anxious care and to fortune and misfortune. The next chapter will address these two layers.

## 3 Fortune and Misfortune, Regret and Remorse: Result and Process

### 3.1 Loss and Gain, and Minor Flaws

#### 3.1.1 The Stratification of Chapter Three

This chapter says, "fortune and misfortune are the images of loss and gain; regret and remorse are the images of anxious care." The very next chapter, the third chapter of the Upper *Xici*, says: "Fortune and misfortune speak of loss and gain. Regret and remorse speak of minor flaws. Being without blame speaks of being skilled at mending one's faults." Reading the two chapters together, the stratification among fortune and misfortune, regret and remorse, and being without blame becomes clear.

Fortune and misfortune speak of loss and gain, an already-completed result. Regret and remorse speak of minor flaws, small defects that have not yet become a major loss. Being without blame speaks of being skilled at mending faults, of having repaired the minor flaw before it falls into loss. The three form three stages of a single process: the minor flaw is the starting point, mending the fault is the middle, and loss or gain is the endpoint. If the minor flaw goes unmended, it proceeds to loss and becomes misfortune; if the minor flaw can be mended, one is without blame and may move toward fortune.

With this distinction made, the place of regret and remorse becomes clear. Regret and remorse are neither fortune nor misfortune; they are the stretch between the two. They are process, not result. This chapter calls regret and remorse the "image of anxious care" precisely because anxious care is a state of mind within the process, not a judgment on the result. When a person feels apprehension and holds certain misgivings while a matter is under way, this is regret and remorse. Only with this apprehension does one go on to mend one's faults; only once the fault is mended does one become without blame.

The Lower *Xici* says: "To hold fast to caution from beginning to end, with being without blame as the essential point -- this is called the Way of the *Changes*." To maintain caution from start to finish, with being without blame as the crux, is the Way of the *Changes*. Here "caution" is this chapter's "anxious care," and "being without blame" is the goal toward which regret and remorse point. The Way of the *Changes* does not lie in seeking fortune; it lies in being without blame. And the path to being without blame must pass through the anxious care of regret and remorse.

#### 3.1.2 "One May Be Without Great Fault"

The Master said, "Grant me a few more years, that at fifty I might study the *Changes*, and I may be without great fault." This line can be read together with the stratification above. What the Master sought in studying the *Changes* was not great fortune, but to "be without great fault." Faults come in greater and lesser degrees: a great fault is this chapter's "loss," a lesser fault is a "minor flaw." That studying the *Changes* can bring one to be without great fault means that studying the *Changes* can transform a great fault into a lesser one, and then transform that lesser fault into being without blame.

This line reveals how the Master used the *Changes*. He did not use it to seek fortune and avoid misfortune, but to reduce his own faults. This accords entirely with the *Xici*'s "hold fast to caution from beginning to end, with being without blame as the essential point." The person who studies the *Changes* does not think, "how can I attain fortune," but "how can I have fewer faults." The anxious care of regret and remorse is precisely the expression of this mind bent on having fewer faults.

The Master also said: "That virtue is not cultivated, that learning is not discussed, that on hearing what is right I am unable to move toward it, that what is not good I am unable to change -- these are my cares." The Master's care is the care of being unable to correct one's faults. This "care" is the very same "anxious" of this chapter's "regret and remorse are the images of anxious care." The noble person is not afraid of having faults; what he fears is being unable to correct them. Only with a mind of anxious care does he go on to correct them. So in the *Changes*, regret and remorse are not a bad omen; they are, rather, a sign that a fault can be corrected. On reading the word "regret," one need not hang one's head in dejection, but should recognize that here lies a fault that can still be mended.

### 3.2 Anxious Care: The Underlying Tone of the *Changes*

#### 3.2.1 "Did the Maker of the *Changes* Have Anxious Care$7"

The Lower *Xici* says: "Did the *Changes* arise in middle antiquity$8 Did its makers have anxious care$9" The maker of the *Changes* carried anxious care in his heart. This line points to the underlying tone of the entire *Changes*. The *Changes* is not a book of ease and comfort; it is a book of anxious care. Its author dwelt amid trouble and care, and so its statements are largely ones of caution and apprehension.

This chapter's "regret and remorse are the images of anxious care" is precisely this underlying tone expressed in a single line. The statements of regret and remorse are the maker's anxious care taking concrete form within the hexagrams and lines. To read regret and remorse is to read the maker's anxious care. When the noble person savors the statements, what he savors is precisely this anxious care.

The Lower *Xici* also says: "Did the *Changes* arise in the final age of Yin, at the height of Zhou's virtue$10 Did it pertain to the affair between King Wen and <span>

King

</span>

 Zhou$11 This is why its statements convey peril. Those who feel peril are made secure; those who feel at ease are made to topple. Its Way is very great, and no affair is beyond its reach." That "its statements convey peril" means the language of the *Changes* is filled with a sense of danger and caution. "Those who feel peril are made secure" means that those who hold a sense of danger in their hearts are, in the end, made secure. "Those who feel at ease are made to topple" means that those who hold a careless ease in their hearts are, in the end, brought to ruin. These two lines lay bare the true function of anxious care: anxious care is not meant to trap a person in sorrow, but to bring a person, through anxious care, to security.

#### 3.2.2 "Those Who Feel Peril Are Made Secure; Those Who Feel at Ease Are Made to Topple"

These eight characters, "those who feel peril are made secure; those who feel at ease are made to topple," are the finest gloss on the meaning of regret and remorse. Both regret and remorse are minor flaws, both are a form of peril. Yet to know the peril brings security, while not to know it brings toppling. So the statements of regret and remorse in the *Changes* offer a person the chance to turn things around. A single word "regret" says: here a minor flaw already exists; if one is alert to it, one can attain security; if one is not alert to it, one will topple.

Master Meng said: "Those who possess virtue, wisdom, skill, and knowledge generally attain them amid affliction and hardship. It is the solitary minister and the son of a concubine, whose minds are exercised in peril and whose apprehension of trouble runs deep, who therefore attain understanding." Those whose minds are exercised in peril and whose apprehension of trouble runs deep are, precisely for that reason, able to attain understanding. This is the very same principle as "those who feel peril are made secure." Master Meng also said: "From this one knows that one is kept alive by trouble and care, and brought to ruin by ease and comfort." Trouble and care keep a person alive; ease and comfort bring a person to ruin. Trouble and care are this chapter's "anxious care"; ease and comfort are the *Xici*'s "ease."

The Most High said, "Calamity is what blessing leans upon; blessing is what calamity hides within." Within calamity there is blessing; within blessing there is calamity. This too is the principle of pushing against each other, expressed in terms of calamity and blessing. To know that calamity hides within blessing is to keep anxious care alive even amid blessing; to know that blessing leans upon calamity is not to despair amid calamity. The Most High also said, "To know contentment brings no disgrace; to know when to stop brings no danger." To know contentment and know when to stop is to keep anxious care alive even in the midst of gain, and thereby to keep fortune from turning into misfortune. On this point of trouble and care, Confucianism and Daoism are again in accord.

### 3.3 The Position of Man Holds Much Misfortune and Much Apprehension

#### 3.3.1 "The Third Line Holds Much Misfortune, the Fourth Much Apprehension"

Here we may venture an exploration. Immediately after "the image of anxious care," this chapter says, "the motion of the six lines is the Way of the Three Ultimates." The three ultimates are Heaven, Earth, and Man. The six lines combine the Three Powers, doubling each: the first and second lines are the position of Earth, the third and fourth the position of Man, and the fifth and top the position of Heaven. So the position of Man is the third and fourth lines.

A passage in the Lower *Xici* discusses line positions in particular: "The second and fourth lines share the same function but differ in position; their excellence differs -- the second holds much praise, the fourth much apprehension, on account of its nearness <span>

to the ruling fifth line

</span>

. As for the way of the yielding, it is not advantageous to be far off; its essential point is to be without blame, its function lying in yielding centrality. The third and fifth lines share the same function but differ in position; the third holds much misfortune, the fifth much achievement, this being the gradation of noble and humble." The third holds much misfortune, the fourth much apprehension. The third and fourth lines are precisely the position of Man. The very position that Man occupies is, among all six lines, the one holding the most misfortune and the most apprehension.

This is no coincidence. Man stands between Heaven and Earth, reaching neither up to Heaven nor down to Earth, occupying the middle. The middle position is the hardest to hold. Too far up, and one usurps Heaven's position; too far down, and one sinks into Earth's position. For Man to find repose in this middle ground, he must necessarily hold much apprehension. And much apprehension is precisely this chapter's "anxious care." Anxious care is not some incidental mood; it is Man's very condition within the Three Ultimates. The position of Man holds much misfortune and much apprehension, and so Man needs the statements of regret and remorse to keep him alert.

Taking this layer together with the stratification discussed earlier: regret and remorse are minor flaws, are anxious care; the position of Man is the third and fourth lines, holding much misfortune and much apprehension. Anxious care is the constant state of the position of Man. The noble person, dwelling in the position of Man, cannot but hold anxious care. But it is precisely because of this anxious care that "those who feel peril are made secure" becomes possible. The very abundance of misfortune and apprehension in the position of Man turns out to be Man's opportunity to be without blame. This is a profound consolation the *Changes* offers to human beings: the position you occupy is inherently difficult, so the difficulty is not your fault; but precisely because it is difficult, your anxious care has value.

#### 3.3.2 "A Lifelong Care, but No Single Morning's Trouble"

Master Meng said: "Therefore the noble person has a lifelong care, but no single morning's trouble." The noble person carries a lifetime of care, yet not a single day's calamity. This line states the relationship between anxious care and fortune and misfortune as clearly as possible. The lifelong care is this chapter's anxious care, the vigilance the noble person holds each day while dwelling in the position of Man, savoring the statements, and observing the images. "No single morning's trouble" is this chapter's closing phrase, "fortune, and nothing but advantage" -- the result that this vigilance brings.

Because there is a lifelong care, there is no single morning's trouble; were there no lifelong care, a single morning's trouble would surely follow. Care and trouble push against each other: the more care, the less trouble; the less care, the more trouble. This is the very same principle as "those who feel peril are made secure; those who feel at ease are made to topple," and it accords with the order of the four clauses "is the image of..." read in reverse: anxious care comes first, loss and gain come after. Anxious care is the cause; loss and gain are the result.

This line of Master Meng's reveals something further: the noble person's care is "lifelong," not occasional. This matches the *Xici*'s "hold fast to caution from beginning to end." Anxious care is not something that arises only when a matter is at hand; it persists continuously from beginning to end. This chapter says, "dwelling, the noble person observes the images and savors their statements" -- while dwelling, he is already observing the images and savoring the statements, already apprehending the anxious care within them. This is the everyday form that a lifelong care takes. Care is not a bad mood; it is the noble person's reverence and awe toward Heaven and Earth while he dwells in the position of Man. Only with this reverence and awe can he, upon acting, "observe the changes and savor the divination," so that his advance and withdrawal never lose the proper moment, and he is left with no single morning's trouble.

## 4 The Motion of the Six Lines, the Way of the Three Ultimates

### 4.1 The Three Powers and the Six Positions

#### 4.1.1 "Combining the Three Powers and Doubling Them"

"The motion of the six lines is the Way of the Three Ultimates." The three ultimates are the Three Powers: Heaven, Earth, and Man. The *Shuogua* (Discussion of the Trigrams) says: "In ancient times, when the sages made the *Changes*, it was in order to comply with the principle of nature and destiny. Thus they established the Way of Heaven, calling it yin and yang; they established the Way of Earth, calling it the yielding and the firm; they established the Way of Man, calling it benevolence and righteousness. They combined the Three Powers and doubled them, and so the *Changes* forms its hexagrams from six lines." The reason the lines number six is that Heaven, Earth, and Man each occupy two lines. The six lines of a single hexagram are precisely the Three Powers of Heaven, Earth, and Man, each divided into yin and yang.

The Lower *Xici* states it more directly: "As a book, the *Changes* is vast and complete, embracing all things. Within it are the Way of Heaven, the Way of Man, and the Way of Earth. It combines the Three Powers and doubles them, hence six. The six are nothing other than the Way of the Three Powers." The six lines are nothing other than the Way of the Three Powers. These two passages serve as commentary on this chapter's "the motion of the six lines is the Way of the Three Ultimates." The motion of the six lines is the very motion of the Way of the Three Ultimates.

That this clause is placed after the four clauses "is the image of..." is deliberate. The first four clauses translate the hexagram and line statements into human affairs and the timing of Heaven; this clause then explains the underlying structure on which the hexagrams and lines as a whole depend. Fortune and misfortune, regret and remorse, change and transformation, the firm and the yielding -- all are contained within the six lines; and the six lines are able to contain all of this because they combine within themselves the Three Ultimates of Heaven, Earth, and Man.

#### 4.1.2 Among the Three Ultimates, Man Occupies the Middle

In the arrangement of the Three Ultimates within the six lines, Earth lies below, Man in the middle, and Heaven above. Man occupies the middle position. This arrangement is itself significant. Man does not stand outside Heaven and Earth, looking upon them; Man stands between Heaven and Earth, a part of the whole that Heaven and Earth together constitute. Man's advance and withdrawal, anxious care, loss and gain, all occur within Heaven and Earth, all are bounded by the firm and the yielding, the day and night, of Heaven and Earth.

Yet Man is not merely passive. The *Shuogua* says, "they established the Way of Man, calling it benevolence and righteousness." The Way of Heaven is yin and yang; the Way of Earth is the yielding and the firm; the Way of Man is benevolence and righteousness. Yin and yang, the yielding and the firm, are natural; benevolence and righteousness are what Man himself must establish. Among the Three Ultimates, Man alone must "establish" his own Way. Heaven has no need to establish its Way; Earth has no need to establish its Way; only Man must do so. This is what is distinctive about Man's place among the Three Ultimates: Man stands within Heaven and Earth, and yet must also establish his own Way within Heaven and Earth.

### 4.2 Man as One of the Ultimates: Able to Form a Triad

#### 4.2.1 Master Xun's "Forming a Triad"

Master Xun (Xunzi) said: "Heaven has its seasons, Earth has its resources, Man has his governance -- this is called being able to form a triad." Heaven has Heaven's seasons, Earth has Earth's resources, Man has Man's governance; the three together are called forming a triad. To form a triad means to become three, that is, for Man to stand alongside Heaven and Earth as their equal, a third. This line of Master Xun's states Man's place among the Three Ultimates as plainly as possible. Man is not an appendage of Heaven and Earth; Man is a third party standing alongside Heaven and Earth.

Master Xun continues: "To abandon the means by which one forms the triad, and instead to long for what the triad accomplishes, is confusion." To abandon one's responsibility as the third party, and instead look to Heaven and Earth to provide, is folly. Man's responsibility is "governance," seeing to his own affairs properly. Heaven's seasons and Earth's resources do not depend on Man; Man's governance depends on Man. This carries the same meaning as what was said earlier: "the root does not depend on Man; the moment is what Man pursues." Although Master Xun belongs to the branch of Confucianism that places greater emphasis on human effort, on this point -- that Man stands alongside Heaven and Earth as their equal, a third -- he accords entirely with the *Changes*' doctrine of the Three Ultimates.

This chapter says, "the motion of the six lines is the Way of the Three Ultimates" -- the motion of the six lines is the Way of the Three Ultimates. Since Man is one of the Three Ultimates, the motion of the six lines includes Man's own share. The change and transformation of the hexagrams and lines is not something Man stands by and watches; Man himself moves within it. This is the premise for understanding what follows -- "dwelling, the noble person observes the images; acting, he observes the changes": the noble person's observing of images and observing of changes is not the observing of another's images and another's changes, but the observing of the very images and changes in which he himself takes part.

#### 4.2.2 The *Doctrine of the Mean*'s "Positions" and "Nurturing"

The *Doctrine of the Mean* says: "When centrality and harmony are attained to the utmost, Heaven and Earth take their proper positions, and the myriad things are nurtured." When a person attains centrality and harmony, Heaven and Earth each rest secure in their proper position, and the myriad things receive nurture. This line carries the role of Man among the Three Ultimates to its furthest point. That the positions of Heaven and Earth and the nurturing of the myriad things should depend on a person's centrality and harmony does not mean that Man creates Heaven and Earth; it means that if a person loses centrality and harmony, Heaven and Earth fall out of their proper positions so far as that person is concerned; and if a person can attain centrality and harmony, Heaven and Earth each attain their proper positions so far as that person is concerned.

The word "position" here connects with the word "order" in this chapter's later line, "the repose in which the noble person dwells is the order of the *Changes*." That "Heaven and Earth take their proper positions" means Heaven and Earth each rest secure in their own order. That the noble person dwells in repose means the noble person rests secure in his own order among the Three Ultimates. When Man rests secure in his position, Heaven and Earth also rest secure in theirs. The *Doctrine of the Mean* also says: "Only the utmost sincerity under Heaven can fully realize its own nature; able to fully realize its own nature, it can fully realize the nature of other people; able to fully realize the nature of other people, it can fully realize the nature of things; able to fully realize the nature of things, it can assist in the transforming and nurturing work of Heaven and Earth; able to assist in the transforming and nurturing work of Heaven and Earth, it can form a triad with Heaven and Earth." Here too the word "triad" is used, the same as in Master Xun's saying. When Man fully realizes his own nature, he can, in the end, form a triad with Heaven and Earth.

This whole line of Confucian thought -- from the *Shuogua*'s "they established the Way of Man, calling it benevolence and righteousness," to Master Xun's "able to form a triad," to the *Doctrine of the Mean*'s "form a triad with Heaven and Earth" -- is speaking, throughout, of Man's place as one of the Three Ultimates. Man is one of the three, neither more nor less. To claim more is to usurp Heaven; to claim less is to abandon Man's own place. This chapter's line, "the motion of the six lines is the Way of the Three Ultimates," is precisely the root, within the *Changes*, from which this entire body of doctrine springs.

### 4.3 The Word "Motion": Not Six Positions, but a Single Way

#### 4.3.1 "The Motion of the Six Lines" and "the Way of the Three Ultimates"

This clause speaks of "the motion of the six lines," not "the positions of the six lines." The word "motion" is crucial. The six lines are not six static compartments; they are a process in motion. The first line moves to the second, the second moves to the third, and so on upward, until the top line, where it must change once again. The motion of the six lines is a temporal process running from bottom to top, from beginning to end. This accords with what was said earlier -- "the firm and the yielding are the images of day and night": the six positions of the six lines are likewise six phases of time.

The Way of the Three Ultimates is likewise a way, not three compartments. A way is a road, something walked. Heaven, Earth, and Man, the Three Ultimates, are not three fixed positions, but the operation of three roads. The Way of Heaven operates, the Way of Earth operates, the Way of Man operates, and the three together become the motion of the six lines. So when this chapter says, "the motion of the six lines is the Way of the Three Ultimates," it matches one word of motion with another word of motion. The lines are in motion, and the Way is in motion.

This point helps in understanding "dwelling" and "acting" as they appear later in the chapter. Since the six lines are themselves in motion, the noble person's "dwelling" is not a state of static immobility, but a finding of repose within motion. While dwelling, the noble person observes the images and savors the statements -- the images he observes are images already in motion, and the statements he savors are statements that speak of change. While acting, the noble person observes the changes and savors the divination, which is all the more a matter of observing motion from within motion. Both dwelling and acting occur within the motion of the six lines. There is no standpoint outside that motion from which to observe it.

#### 4.3.2 Time and Position Cannot Be Separated

When the *Changes* speaks of the lines, it often speaks of time and position together. Position belongs to space; time belongs to time. But within the six lines, position is time. The first line is the initial moment; the top line is the final moment. The position a line occupies is precisely the moment at which it stands. This accords with this chapter's "the firm and the yielding are the images of day and night": the firm and the yielding are position, day and night are time, and position is time.

In this light, the "order" in which the noble person dwells is likewise, at once, both position and time. To rest secure in this order is at once to rest secure in one's own position and to rest secure in one's own moment. The *Da Xiang* (Great Image) commentary on hexagram Gen says, "the noble person, in accordance with this, does not let his thoughts stray beyond his position." Position is order. Not letting one's thoughts stray beyond one's position is resting secure in order. But position is itself in motion, changing with time, and so not letting one's thoughts stray beyond one's position is not a matter of clinging rigidly to a single compartment, but of always resting secure in one's present position as time moves forward. This is the subject to be treated in detail in the next chapter.

## 5 "That in Which the Noble Person Dwells and Rests Secure Is the Order of the *Changes*"

### 5.1 What Is Order$12

#### 5.1.1 "Low and High Are Set Out; Noble and Humble Take Their Positions"

"Therefore the repose in which the noble person dwells is the order of the *Changes*." The word "order" is the key to this clause. What does "the order of the *Changes*" refer to$13

The opening of the first chapter of the Upper *Xici* says: "Heaven is exalted, Earth is lowly; thus Qian and Kun are fixed. The low and the high are set out; thus the noble and the humble take their positions. Movement and stillness have their constancy; thus the firm and the yielding are determined." Heaven above, Earth below -- this is the order of the exalted and the lowly. The low and the high are set out in their array, and the noble and the humble thereby have their positions. Movement and stillness each follow their own constant pattern, and the firm and the yielding thereby become distinct. These lines speak precisely of order: Heaven and Earth have their order, the exalted and the lowly have their order, movement and stillness have their order, the firm and the yielding have their order. The *Changes* is the book that displays this order.

So "the order of the *Changes*" refers neither to the sequence in which the sixty-four hexagrams are arranged, nor solely to the progression of the six lines from bottom to top, but to that inherent order of Heaven and Earth which the *Changes* displays. Heaven and Earth have their exalted and lowly ranks; the myriad things have their noble and humble ranks; movement and stillness follow constant patterns; the firm and the yielding have their proper bounds. This order belongs to Heaven and Earth themselves; it is not fixed by human beings. The *Changes* merely displays it. What the noble person dwells in and rests secure within is precisely this order.

#### 5.1.2 Order Is Both Position and Time

As noted earlier, within the six lines, position is time. Order likewise carries both aspects, position and time, at once. In terms of position, order is the sequence of exalted and lowly, noble and humble: the ruler occupies the ruler's position, the minister the minister's position, the father the father's position, the son the son's position. In terms of time, order is the sequence of earlier and later, beginning and end: what should come first comes first, what should come after comes after, what should begin begins, what should end ends. To rest secure in order is at once to rest secure in one's own position and to rest secure in one's own time.

The Master said, "Not being in a particular position, one does not discuss its governance." This is resting secure in position. The Master also said, "As for the noble person's dealings with the world, he has no fixed preferences and no fixed aversions; he simply follows what is right." This is resting secure in time, taking rightness as the standard at every moment. Resting secure in position and resting secure in time, taken together, constitute resting secure in order.

The Lower *Xici* says: "As a book, the *Changes* takes tracing from the beginning to the end as its substance. The intermingling of the six lines is a matter solely of their time and their matter." Tracing from the beginning to the end means investigating from origin all the way to conclusion. The intermingling of the six lines is to be judged solely by their time and their matter. Here the two words "time and matter" are precisely the two aspects of order: time is temporal order, matter is positional order. What the noble person rests secure in, dwelling in repose, is precisely this time and this matter.

### 5.2 "Dwelling in Ease, Awaiting the Mandate"

#### 5.2.1 An Intertextual Echo with a Line from the *Doctrine of the Mean*

Here we come to the exploration this essay is most eager to put forward. The *Doctrine of the Mean* says: "Thus the noble person dwells in ease and awaits the Mandate; the petty person walks in peril and hopes for a stroke of luck." The noble person dwells in ease and awaits the Mandate; the petty person walks in peril and seeks a fortunate windfall. The phrase "dwells in ease" (*ju yi*) has traditionally been glossed as dwelling in a place of ease and levelness. This reading is, of course, perfectly coherent. But if one reads it alongside this chapter's "the repose in which the noble person dwells is the order of the *Changes*," a striking correspondence emerges.

This chapter says that what the noble person "dwells in and rests secure within" is "the order of the *Changes*." The *Doctrine of the Mean* says the noble person "dwells in ease (*yi*), awaiting the Mandate." One passage says what is dwelt in is the order of the *Changes*; the other says what is dwelt in is *yi*. Both use the word "dwell," and both connect to the character *yi*, which is shared by "ease" and by the very name of the *Changes* (*Yi*). If we read the *Doctrine of the Mean*'s "dwells in *yi*" as "dwells in the order of the *Changes*," then "dwells in *yi* and awaits the Mandate" means: to dwell securely within the order of Heaven and Earth that the *Changes* displays, and to await the coming of the Mandate. Read this way, it aligns perfectly with the meaning of this chapter.

Even without altering the traditional reading of "dwells in ease" as dwelling in a place of ease and levelness, the two passages remain intertextual echoes of one another. Why dwell in a place of ease and levelness$1 Because a place of ease and levelness is precisely a place that accords with order. The order of Heaven and Earth is, at bottom, easy and level; the exalted and the lowly, the noble and the humble, each resting secure in their proper position -- there is, at bottom, no peril in this at all. Where, then, does peril come from$2 It comes from failing to rest secure in one's order and instead seeking recklessly. So to dwell in ease is to dwell in order, and to dwell in order is to dwell in ease. The *Doctrine of the Mean* and the *Xici* -- one speaking from the standpoint of the mind, the other from the standpoint of order -- speak of one and the same thing.

The passage that precedes this line in the *Doctrine of the Mean* reads: "The noble person acts according to his present station and does not desire what lies beyond it. If his station is wealth and honor, he acts in accordance with wealth and honor; if his station is poverty and low estate, he acts in accordance with poverty and low estate; if his station is among barbarian peoples, he acts in accordance with dwelling among barbarian peoples; if his station is trouble and hardship, he acts in accordance with trouble and hardship. The noble person, wherever he finds himself, finds nothing that does not suit him. In a superior position he does not oppress those below; in an inferior position he does not curry favor with those above. He corrects himself and seeks nothing of others, and so has no resentment: he neither resents Heaven above nor blames other people below." To act according to one's present station is to rest secure in one's own position. To find, wherever one is, nothing that does not suit oneself, is to be at repose. Not to oppress those below when in a superior position, and not to curry favor with those above when in an inferior position, is not to stray from one's order. This whole passage can be read as an unfolding of this chapter's "the repose in which the noble person dwells is the order of the *Changes*."

#### 5.2.2 "Walking in Peril and Hoping for a Stroke of Luck" and "The *Changes* Cannot Be Used to Divine About Peril"

The opposite of "dwelling in ease and awaiting the Mandate" is "walking in peril and hoping for a stroke of luck." To walk in peril is to fail to rest secure in one's order and to venture into risk instead; to hope for a stroke of luck is to seek gain outside of order. This line can be read alongside a passage from the *Zuo Tradition*. In the twelfth year of Duke Zhao, the *Zuo Tradition* records, Nan Kuai was about to rebel and cast the milfoil stalks, obtaining hexagram Kun (Earth) changing into hexagram Bi (Union). The line statement read, "a yellow lower garment, sublime good fortune," and he took this to mean great fortune. Zifu Huibo said to him: "I have studied this before. Where the matter is one of loyalty and good faith, it may hold; otherwise it will surely fail." He also said: "Moreover, the *Changes* cannot be used to divine about peril -- what affair, then, could this concern$3"

The *Changes* cannot be used to divine about peril. To "divine about peril" is to use the *Changes* to seek fortune for a reckless undertaking. Zifu Huibo's meaning is that what the *Changes* displays is the order of Heaven and Earth, and within that order there is no peril. If what one intends to do is walk in peril, the *Changes* will not, on one's behalf, declare it fortunate. Even if a line statement says "fortune," that fortune is not meant for one who walks in peril. This stands in exact opposition to the *Doctrine of the Mean*'s "the petty person walks in peril and hopes for a stroke of luck." The petty person who walks in peril seeking a stroke of luck, even should he divine a fortunate hexagram, has attained only a lucky windfall, not true fortune.

From this we can see that the clause "that in which the noble person dwells and rests secure is the order of the *Changes*" has a definite counterpart against which it is set. Resting secure in order stands opposed to walking in peril. Dwelling in ease stands opposed to walking in peril. The reason the noble person can attain "from Heaven comes its aid -- fortune, and nothing but advantage" is that he does not walk in peril. This point will be taken up again in Chapter 9.

### 5.3 Repose Is Not Submission

#### 5.3.1 "Acting According to One's Present Station"

When speaking of resting secure in order, it is easy to fall into a certain misunderstanding: that resting secure in order means resigning oneself to fate, submitting to one's present circumstances, and doing nothing at all. This is neither the meaning of the *Changes* nor the meaning of the *Doctrine of the Mean*.

When the *Doctrine of the Mean* says "acts according to his present station," the emphasis falls on "acts." Acting according to one's station is repose; acting is motion. One rests secure in one's own position, and then acts within that position. Resting secure in one's position does not mean remaining motionless; it means acting only after resting secure in one's position. The one who is wealthy and honored acts within wealth and honor; the one who is poor and lowly acts within poverty and low estate; the one beset by trouble and hardship acts within trouble and hardship. The acting is the same in each case; only the position from which it is done differs. This is precisely the structure of this chapter's "dwelling, he observes the images and savors their statements; acting, he observes the changes and savors the divination": dwelling is resting secure in one's position, acting is carrying out one's position.

Resting secure in order carries a still more positive meaning. Order belongs to Heaven and Earth, not to the present state of affairs. If the present state of affairs does not accord with order, then resting secure in order requires changing that present state of affairs. Heaven exalted, Earth lowly; the ruler being truly a ruler, the minister truly a minister, the father truly a father, the son truly a son -- this is order. If the ruler is not truly a ruler, or the minister not truly a minister, this is a loss of order. One who rests secure in order cannot rest content with such a loss of order. What the Master did throughout his life was precisely to hold fast to order in an age that had lost it. He was not content with the present state of affairs, yet he rested secure in order. The two are not in contradiction.

#### 5.3.2 "When It Is Time to Stop, Stop; When It Is Time to Move, Move"

The *Tuan* commentary on hexagram Gen says: "Gen means stopping. When it is time to stop, stop; when it is time to move, move. When movement and stillness never lose their proper moment, the Way is bright and clear. To restrain by stopping is to stop in one's proper place." Gen means stopping, but this stopping is not a dead, static stopping; it is stopping when it is time to stop, and moving when it is time to move. One stops when stopping is called for, and moves when moving is called for. Neither movement nor stillness ever loses its proper moment. This is the true likeness of resting secure in order.

To rest secure in order is not to remain forever motionless; it is to move or stay still according to the moment. Order carries time within it: when the moment for movement arrives, one must move; when the moment for stopping arrives, one must stop. "To restrain by stopping is to stop in one's proper place" -- to stop where one ought to stop. "Place" is position, and to stop in one's proper place is to rest secure in one's position. But this position itself changes with time, and so stopping in one's proper place must likewise follow the moment.

If this chapter's "the repose in which the noble person dwells is the order of the *Changes*" is read together with the *Tuan* commentary on Gen, one sees that "dwelling in repose" is not a fixed posture, but a repose that follows the moment. Dwelling is stopping, yet it is only stopping in one's proper place; when the moment for acting arrives, one must move, must "observe the changes and savor the divination." Both dwelling and acting take place within order.

#### 5.3.3 "Delighting in Heaven and Knowing the Mandate, and So Free of Care"

The fourth chapter of the Upper *Xici* says: "Delighting in Heaven and knowing the Mandate, and so being free of care; resting secure in one's ground and being generous in benevolence, and so being able to love." Delighting in Heaven and knowing the Mandate, one is thereby free of care. This line offers the finest gloss on "dwelling in repose." Repose comes from delighting in Heaven and knowing the Mandate. Heaven is the source of order; the Mandate is order taking concrete form within the individual. To delight in Heaven is to love this order; to know the Mandate is to understand one's own position within this order. One who delights in Heaven and knows the Mandate dwells within order and rests secure, with nothing to be anxious about.

This "free of care" may seem to contradict the "anxious care" discussed earlier, but it does not. Anxious care is vigilance over minor flaws; being free of care is settledness regarding the larger picture. A person can be settled in the larger picture while remaining vigilant over small particulars. The Master's "delighting in it so as to forget his cares," together with his saying, "what is not good I am unable to change -- this is my care," is precisely this. In the large view, delighting in Heaven and knowing the Mandate; in small particulars, holding fast to caution from beginning to end. Only the two together make up the complete mind of the noble person.

"Resting secure in one's ground and being generous in benevolence, and so being able to love" -- resting secure in one's ground means resting secure in the place one occupies, which is resting secure in one's position. Only one who rests secure in his position can be generous and substantial in benevolence, can love other people. One who does not rest secure in his position has his mind bent entirely on seeking outward -- what energy could he have left over for love$4 This line joins "repose" and "benevolence" together, showing that resting secure in order is no passive endurance, but the very foundation of benevolent virtue. Only once the noble person dwells and rests secure can he go on to practice benevolence within his position. This is the positive significance of repose.

## 6 "That in Which He Delights and Which He Savors Is the Statements on the Lines"

### 6.1 Repose and Delight

#### 6.1.1 "Stillness, Calm, Repose, Deliberation, Attainment"

"That in which he dwells and rests secure is the order of the *Changes*; that in which he delights and which he savors is the statements on the lines." These two clauses stand side by side, describing the noble person's two attitudes toward the *Changes*. Toward order, repose; toward the statements, delight. Repose and delight differ. Repose is acceptance, a ceasing to waver; delight is appreciation, an active drawing near. Repose is still; delight is in motion.

The opening of the *Great Learning* says: "Knowing where to rest, one has stability; having stability, one can be still; being still, one can be at repose; being at repose, one can deliberate; deliberating, one can attain." In this sequence, repose comes after stillness and before deliberation. Repose is the completion of stillness, and also the beginning of deliberation. Once one grows still, one can be at repose; once at repose, one can proceed to deliberate; once one has deliberated, one can attain something. Repose is a turning point: the turning point from stillness into motion.

This chapter's repose and delight fit precisely this sequence. Repose is acceptance of order, the completion of stillness. Delight is the savoring of the statements, the beginning of deliberation. Repose comes first, delight after; dwelling in order comes first, savoring the statements comes after. If one is not at repose in order, if the mind is restless and agitated, one cannot savor the statements. Savoring the statements requires a certain unhurried ease, and that unhurried ease comes from repose. This is why the order of the two clauses cannot be reversed: "that in which he dwells and rests secure" is said first, "that in which he delights and which he savors" comes after.

#### 6.1.2 "Those Who Are Fond of It Do Not Match Those Who Delight in It"

The Master said, "Those who know it do not match those who are fond of it; those who are fond of it do not match those who delight in it." Knowing, being fond of, and delighting in are three levels of learning. Knowing is understanding, being fond of is liking, delighting in is taking it as one's joy. Delight is the highest of the three levels. This chapter's phrase "that in which he delights and which he savors is the statements on the lines" employs precisely this highest-level word "delight." Toward the statements on the lines, the noble person does not merely know their meaning, nor merely favor the principles within them, but takes savoring them as his very delight.

The Master also said: "To learn something and then, in due time, to practice it repeatedly -- is this not a joy$5" To practice repeatedly in due time is precisely this chapter's "savoring." Savoring is turning something over again and again, is repeated practice. To practice repeatedly and to feel joy is to savor and to delight. The Master said of himself, "So absorbed in his zeal that he forgets to eat, so filled with joy that he forgets his cares, not even aware that old age is coming on" -- this is the very likeness of one who delights in it. Learning carried to this point, he forgets even to eat, forgets even his cares, forgets even his own aging. This is "delighting in it and savoring it."

Yan Hui "with a single bamboo dish of rice and a single gourd of drink, dwelling in a mean alley -- others could not have endured such distress, yet Hui did not let it alter his joy." Yan Hui's joy, too, is a joy built upon repose. He was at repose in his mean alley, and only then delighted in the Way. Had he not been at repose in his mean alley, his heart set instead on wealth and honor, how could there have been any joy$6 This is why the Master said that "being poor and yet joyful" surpasses "being poor and yet without resentment." Being without resentment is repose; joy is a layer built upon repose. This chapter's repose and delight are precisely these two layers.

### 6.2 The Transformation of Care into Delight

#### 6.2.1 "Delighting in It So as to Forget One's Cares"

Here is a point that seems, on the surface, to be a contradiction. Earlier in this chapter it is said, "regret and remorse are the images of anxious care" -- the statements of the *Changes* are filled with anxious care. Later it is said that the noble person's "delight, in savoring, is the statements on the lines" -- the noble person takes savoring the statements as his delight. A book filled with trouble and care, and yet the noble person reads it with delight. Why is this$7

The Master's phrase "delighting in it so as to forget his cares" is the answer to this question. Delight is not the absence of care; it is care transformed. The care remains within the statements, yet as the noble person savors the statements, he transforms that care into delight. How does this transformation occur$8 Through "savoring." Savoring takes trouble and care as something to be tasted and turned over carefully, rather than as a burden weighing upon the heart. The maker of the *Changes*' trouble and care, passed through the noble person's savoring, becomes the noble person's own delight.

This transformation is one of the great functions of the *Changes*. The Lower *Xici* says "its statements convey peril" -- the statements of the *Changes* carry a sense of danger and apprehension. Yet the Upper *Xici* also says, "delighting in Heaven and knowing the Mandate, and so being free of care." Statements of danger and apprehension, when read, yield a mind free of care. This transformation depends entirely on "savoring." As the noble person savors the statements, he comes to apprehend, one by one, the dangers and apprehensions within them; he comes to know the reason behind every instance of regret and remorse, and the origin of every instance of misfortune, and thereby comes to know how to avoid it. Once he knows this, he no longer fears it, but finds it, instead, interesting. Trouble and care are transformed into wisdom, and wisdom is delight.

Master Meng's saying, "the noble person has a lifelong care, but no single morning's trouble," was quoted earlier. Here one more layer can be added: the noble person's lifelong care is precisely the noble person's lifelong delight. For this care is not sorrow and distress, but savoring. He savors the trouble and care within the statements throughout his life, finds delight in this savoring throughout his life, and, because of it, is spared a single morning's trouble throughout his life. In the noble person, care and delight are two faces of one and the same thing.

#### 6.2.2 "Sharing Fortune and Misfortune, Trouble and Care, with the People"

The eleventh chapter of the Upper *Xici* says: "By this the sages washed their hearts, withdrew and lay hidden in secrecy, and shared with the people their trouble and care over fortune and misfortune." The sages used the *Changes* to wash their hearts, withdrawing into hidden seclusion, sharing with the common people the trouble and care of fortune and misfortune. The phrase "shared with the people their trouble and care" here helps in understanding the meaning of the noble person's delighting in and savoring the statements.

The sages made the *Changes* because they carried trouble and care -- and this trouble and care was not the sages' own private burden, but shared with the people. The common people have the trouble of fortune and misfortune, and the sages, feeling this trouble on their behalf, made the *Changes* to help them. So the anxious care within the statements of the *Changes* is care felt on behalf of the people. What the noble person savors, in savoring the statements, is precisely this care felt on behalf of the people. That the noble person takes this as his delight is not a delight belonging to himself alone, but a delight arising from apprehending the sage's heart of care for the people.

The Upper *Xici* says, "by this the sages washed their hearts." To wash the heart is to wash away the mixed and disordered thoughts within it. The noble person's savoring of the statements is likewise a washing of the heart. He savors one statement, apprehends one layer of trouble and care, and sheds one layer of private selfishness. Once the heart has been savored clean, trouble and care become wisdom, become delight. The noble person who delights in and savors the statements is, in doing so, using the statements to wash his own heart. This is where the *Changes* becomes a teaching.

### 6.3 The Attitude of Savoring

#### 6.3.1 "Roaming Amid the Arts," Letting the Mind Roam

"Savor" is a word that recurs throughout this chapter: savoring the statements, savoring the divination. What sort of attitude is savoring$9 Savoring is handling a thing repeatedly, intimately, without haste to reach a result. Savoring is not for the sake of anything else; savoring itself is the purpose. While savoring, there is no barrier between the person and the thing savored; the person is within it, the thing is within him, and the two grow intimate with one another.

The Master said: "Set your intent on the Way, hold fast to virtue, rely on benevolence, and roam amid the arts." Roaming amid the arts is roaming freely within the six arts. Roaming and savoring share the same breath. To roam is to move about without any fixed purpose, to walk freely within a thing. Master Zhuang said, "riding upon things to let the mind roam" -- riding upon external things so as to let the mind roam freely. The very first chapter of Master Zhuang's book is titled "Free and Easy Wandering": free and easy means unconstrained, and wandering means moving about freely. Both the Confucian "roaming amid the arts" and the Daoist "letting the mind roam" express this very attitude of "savoring."

The noble person's savoring of the statements is a roaming amid the statements. It is not undertaken to dig some answer out of the statements, but to move freely and repeatedly within them, tasting them again and again. Savored long enough, the statements become part of oneself, and the principles within the statements become one's own principles. This is the difference between savoring and merely looking something up. Looking something up seeks an answer, and once found, the matter is finished. Savoring is never finished; one can savor a thing for an entire lifetime. The Master said, "at fifty, to study the *Changes*" -- still studying at fifty, precisely because the *Changes* is something one can savor for an entire lifetime.

#### 6.3.2 Savoring the Divination Is Also Savoring

This chapter uses "savor" both for the statements and for the divination: "acting, he observes the changes and savors the divination." This point is of the greatest importance. Divination is, by its nature, meant to inquire into fortune and misfortune, to seek a result. Yet this chapter speaks of "savoring the divination," not "trusting the divination" or "following the divination." The divination, too, becomes an object of savoring.

What does this mean$10 It means that even while acting, even while inquiring by divination, the noble person's attitude remains one of savoring, not of anxiously seeking a result. Once a result is divined, the noble person does not simply take it and go; he treats the result, too, as something to be tasted and turned over. Why did this particular line come up$11 What does the statement on this line say$12 What bearing does it have on my present circumstances$13 How should I advance or withdraw$14 All of this is savoring. The result of the divination becomes material for further savoring of the principle of change, not a final verdict.

This is the crucial step by which the *Changes* turns from a book of divination into a book of principle and meaning. A book of divination seeks a result; a book of principle and meaning seeks understanding. By calling the divination itself an object of savoring, this chapter draws divination over onto the side of principle and meaning. Divination is no longer a seeking of results; it is one more way of tasting principle. Chapter 8 below will treat this point at length.

#### 6.3.3 "Day by Day Accomplishing, Month by Month Advancing"

The "Jing zhi" ode in the *Zhou Song* section of the *Book of Songs* says: "Day by day accomplishing, month by month advancing, learning grows ever brighter and more brilliant." Accomplishing something each day, advancing each month, one's learning grows ever more radiant. "Day by day accomplishing, month by month advancing" places learning within the rhythm of day and night. Every day, every month, one is learning, one is advancing.

This chapter says "the firm and the yielding are the images of day and night," and also says the noble person, "dwelling, observes the images and savors their statements." Taken together, the noble person's savoring of the statements proceeds within the rhythm of day and night. Every day of dwelling is spent observing the images and savoring the statements. Day after day, month after month -- this is "day by day accomplishing, month by month advancing." That the firm and the yielding push against each other and generate change and transformation is Heaven's own "day by day accomplishing, month by month advancing"; that the noble person savors the statements day after day and his virtue advances day by day is Man's own "day by day accomplishing, month by month advancing." Man's learning and Heaven's operation converge here into a single rhythm.

"Learning grows ever brighter and more brilliant" -- the words "bright" and "brilliant" echo this chapter's opening phrase, "clarifying fortune and misfortune," and the *Tuan* commentary on Gen's "the Way is bright and clear." Learning that arrives at brightness is precisely clarifying fortune and misfortune, precisely the Way growing bright and clear. Learning pursued "day by day, month by month" arrives, in the end, at clarity. And this clarity is the very same clarity that the sage clarified in appending the statements. As the noble person savors the statements over long years, what he comes to see gradually becomes one with what the sage saw. This is the destination of the "path retraced" spoken of earlier.

## 7 Dwelling and Acting: Still and Unmoving, Yet When Stirred It Penetrates

### 7.1 The Ontological Account of Dwelling and Acting

#### 7.1.1 "The *Changes* Has No Thought and No Deliberate Action"

"Dwelling, the noble person observes the images and savors their statements; acting, he observes the changes and savors the divination." Dwelling and acting are the two pillars of this clause. What one does while dwelling, and what one does while acting, are laid out with great clarity. But where do dwelling and acting themselves originate$15 Why should the noble person's use of the *Changes* divide into these two halves, dwelling and acting$16

The tenth chapter of the Upper *Xici* says: "The *Changes* has no thought and no deliberate action; it is still and unmoving, and when stirred it penetrates all the affairs of the world. Were it not the most spiritually potent thing under Heaven, what could accomplish this$17" The *Changes* itself is without thought, without deliberate action, still and unmoving. Yet the moment it is stirred, it penetrates the affairs of the whole world. Stillness and unmoving is one state; being stirred and penetrating is another. The former is stillness; the latter is motion. The very substance of the *Changes* consists of these two aspects, stillness and motion.

This chapter's dwelling and acting of the noble person are precisely these two aspects of the *Changes*, expressed in a human being. Dwelling is stillness and unmoving; acting is being stirred and penetrating. While dwelling, the noble person observes the images and savors the statements -- he is cultivating himself within stillness and unmoving. While acting, the noble person observes the changes and savors the divination -- he is responding to the occasion at the moment of being stirred and penetrating. The substance of the *Changes* is thus, and the noble person who employs the *Changes* is thus as well. Substance and function correspond to one another.

#### 7.1.2 Dwelling Is the Root of Acting

Dwelling and acting are not two acts standing side by side; dwelling is the root of acting. Without the cultivation of dwelling, there is nothing to draw upon at the moment of acting. If the noble person has thoroughly savored the images and statements while dwelling, then when he acts he can respond the instant he is stirred. If he has not applied himself while dwelling, and only looks things up hastily when the moment for acting arrives, he will find nothing of substance there.

The Lower *Xici* says: "The noble person settles his person and only then acts; puts his mind at ease and only then speaks; fixes his relations firmly and only then makes requests. By cultivating these three, the noble person achieves completeness." To settle one's person and only then act is precisely to dwell first and act afterward. Settling one's person is dwelling, is this chapter's "dwelling and resting secure." Only once the person is settled can one act. This line states, as plainly as possible, the relationship between this chapter's "dwelling in repose" and "acting, he observes the changes": repose while dwelling is the precondition for acting.

The Lower *Xici* continues: "To act while in peril, and the people will not join with you; to speak while in fear, and the people will not respond to you; to make requests without established relations, and the people will not join with you. When no one joins with you, those who would harm you will arrive." To act while one's person is unsettled is to act while in peril, and no one will follow. This is precisely the consequence of acting without first dwelling. So dwelling is not the opposite of acting; dwelling is the preparation for acting. The very reason the noble person can "act, observing the changes and savoring the divination," and attain fortune with nothing but advantage, is that he has already laid the groundwork of "dwelling, observing the images and savoring the statements."

### 7.2 Daoist Stillness and Motion

#### 7.2.1 "Attain the Utmost Emptiness, Hold Fast to Stillness, and by This Observe the Return"

The Most High said: "Attain the utmost emptiness; hold fast to stillness with all sincerity. The myriad things arise together, and by this I observe their return." The structure of this line is identical to this chapter's structure of dwelling and acting. Attaining emptiness and holding to stillness is dwelling. The myriad things arising together is acting. Observing their return is observing from within that acting. The Most High does not mean that holding to stillness precludes watching the myriad things; rather, having held to stillness, one goes on to observe the coming and going of the myriad things. Stillness exists for the sake of observing.

This chapter's "dwelling, he observes the images" -- dwelling is stillness, and observing takes place within that stillness. The Most High's "holding to stillness with all sincerity" and then "observing the return" is likewise observing from within stillness. What the two observe is also similar: what this chapter observes is the image, that is, the configuration formed by the firm and the yielding pushing against each other; what the Most High observes is the return, that is, the pattern by which the myriad things come and go. Image and return are both patterns of change. To dwell and observe the image, to be still and observe the return -- this is one and the same discipline.

The Most High also said: "Who can, through stillness, gradually clarify what is turbid$18 Who can, through motion, gradually bring the settled to life$19" Turbid water, once stilled, gradually clarifies; a settled thing, once set in motion, gradually comes to life. Gradual clarification through stillness is dwelling; gradual coming to life through motion is acting. Stillness first, motion after; clarity first, life after. This again accords with this chapter's order of dwelling first and acting after. On this point, Confucianism and Daoism are not divided: both hold that stillness comes first and motion follows, that repose comes first and action follows.

#### 7.2.2 "In Motion It Is Like Heaven; in Stillness It Is Like Earth"

Master Zhuang said: "In motion it is like Heaven; in stillness it is like Earth; when the single mind is settled, one may rule the world." In motion it resembles Heaven, in stillness it resembles Earth; once the mind is settled, one can rule over the whole world. This line assigns motion and stillness to Heaven and Earth respectively. Heaven is in motion; Earth is still. A person who possesses both motion and stillness thereby possesses both Heaven and Earth.

This chapter says, "the motion of the six lines is the Way of the Three Ultimates" -- the six lines combine Heaven, Earth, and Man. Man occupies the middle position, Heaven above, Earth below. Man's motion resembles Heaven; Man's stillness resembles Earth. This chapter's dwelling and acting of the noble person: dwelling takes its model from the stillness of Earth, acting takes its model from the motion of Heaven. The noble person dwelling in repose is the stillness of Earth; the noble person acting and observing the changes is the motion of Heaven. Standing between Heaven and Earth, Man possesses both.

Master Zhuang's saying, "when the single mind is settled, one may rule the world," places its emphasis on "settled." Both motion and stillness must be rooted in settledness. Settledness is this chapter's "repose." Once at repose, motion is at repose, and stillness is at repose. Without repose, motion becomes chaotic movement, and stillness becomes dead stillness. This line of Master Zhuang's likewise speaks first of settledness, and only then of motion and stillness each finding their proper place -- the very same sequence as the *Great Learning*'s "having stability, one can be still; being still, one can be at repose," and as this chapter's "the repose in which he dwells."

### 7.3 "In Ordinary Dwelling, Reverent; in the Conduct of Affairs, Respectful"

Fan Chi asked about benevolence, and the Master said: "In ordinary dwelling, be reverent; in the conduct of affairs, be respectful; in dealings with others, be loyal. Even if you go among the barbarian tribes, these must not be cast aside." "Ordinary dwelling" and "the conduct of affairs" are precisely this chapter's "dwelling" and "acting."

To be reverent in ordinary dwelling is the discipline of dwelling. Reverence is a gathering-in, a refusal to be careless. When the noble person dwells, observing the images and savoring the statements, his heart is reverent, not idly leafing through pages. To be respectful in the conduct of affairs is the discipline of acting. Respect is concentration, a refusal to treat things lightly. When the noble person acts, observing the changes and savoring the divination, his heart is respectful, not simply taking the result and walking away. Reverence belongs to dwelling, respect to acting; together they form the noble person's state of mind across the two halves of dwelling and acting in this chapter.

"Even if you go among the barbarian tribes, these must not be cast aside" -- these two dispositions cannot be discarded even in a foreign land among barbarian peoples. This means that being reverent in ordinary dwelling and respectful in the conduct of affairs know no bounds of time or place. This chapter's account of the noble person dwelling thus and acting thus is likewise without bounds of time or place. Whatever the moment, whatever the position, dwelling means observing the images and savoring the statements, and acting means observing the changes and savoring the divination. This is precisely the *Doctrine of the Mean*'s "acting according to one's present station," finding, wherever one is, nothing that does not suit oneself. The two halves of dwelling and acting, the two states of mind of reverence and respect, remain the same in any position whatsoever. This is the noble person's everyday life.

## 8 Savoring the Statements and Savoring the Divination: "Divination Alone Would Be Superfluous"

### 8.1 The Master's Demonstration

#### 8.1.1 "Inconstant in His Virtue, He May Well Meet with Shame"

The "Zilu" chapter of the *Analects* records a passage in which the Master quotes the *Changes*: "The Master said: 'The people of the south have a saying: A person without constancy cannot even be a shaman or a healer. Well put! <span>

The line reads:

</span>

 Inconstant in his virtue, he may well meet with shame.' The Master said: 'Divination alone would be superfluous.'"

"Inconstant in his virtue, he may well meet with shame" is the line statement of the third line of hexagram Heng (Constancy). The Master first quotes the saying of the people of the south, that a person without constancy cannot even be a shaman or a healer, then quotes the line statement of the third line of Heng, that one who cannot hold constant to his virtue will meet with shame, and finally utters the words, "divination alone would be superfluous."

This passage is one of the rare instances in the *Analects* where the Master directly quotes a line statement. It happens to be a live demonstration, on the spot, of this chapter's "dwelling, he observes the images and savors their statements." The Master was not divining; he was, in the course of an ordinary conversation about the virtue of constancy, casually quoting a line statement. This is savoring the statements. The line statement had already been so thoroughly savored that it had become his own words -- speaking of constancy, he thought at once of hexagram Heng, thought at once of "inconstant in his virtue, he may well meet with shame." This is what savoring the statements looks like when carried to the point of becoming one with the statements themselves.

#### 8.1.2 The Meaning of "Divination Alone Would Be Superfluous"

How should the four words "divination alone would be superfluous" be understood$20 Earlier commentators have offered differing accounts. One holds: for a person without constant virtue, there is no need to divine, since divining would be of no use anyway. Another holds: the principle stated in this line statement is already so plain that one knows the result without divining at all. In fact, the two readings amount to the same thing: for a person without constancy, there is no need to divine -- the result has already been stated plainly in the statement itself.

This line offers an extremely important gloss on this chapter's "acting, he observes the changes and savors the divination." This chapter says that when the noble person acts, he should savor the divination -- yet the Master says, "divination alone would be superfluous." Do these two contradict one another$21 They do not. The Master's meaning is: the statement has already been so thoroughly savored, the principle already so plain, that divination becomes superfluous. The person without constancy will inevitably meet with shame -- this requires no divination. The person with constancy will naturally be without shame -- this too requires no divination. Whatever divination could tell you, the statement has already told you.

So "savoring the divination" presupposes "savoring the statements." Once the statements have been thoroughly savored, once the principle is plain, divination becomes a confirmation of the statement rather than an inquiry into the unknown. The Master's "divination alone would be superfluous" is not a denial of divination; it states that once the savoring of statements is carried to its furthest point, divination naturally recedes into a secondary place. This is the natural transition from dwelling to acting: while dwelling, the statements are already thoroughly savored; while acting, the divination is merely a further savoring.

### 8.2 "One Skilled in the *Changes* Does Not Divine"

Master Xun said: "One skilled in the *Songs* does not need to expound it; one skilled in the *Changes* does not need to divine by it; one skilled in ritual propriety does not need to serve as its officiant -- their hearts are one and the same." One who is skilled in the *Songs* need not go on explaining it; one who is skilled in the *Changes* need not go on divining by it; one who is skilled in ritual propriety need not go on acting as the officiant at ceremonies. The hearts of these three are one and the same.

This line strikes the very same note as the Master's "divination alone would be superfluous." Why does one skilled in the *Changes* not divine$22 Because the principle of the *Changes* is already within his heart; when he meets with a matter, he naturally knows how to advance or withdraw, with no further need to divine. It is like one skilled in the *Songs* having no further need to explain them line by line, or one skilled in ritual propriety having no further need to serve as master of ceremonies. Once learning has been mastered, the tool itself can be set aside.

Master Xun says "their hearts are one and the same" -- in what way are the three alike$23 They are alike in that, in each case, what was once external has been transformed into what is now internal. The *Songs* is transformed into one's own feeling; ritual propriety is transformed into one's own conduct; the *Changes* is transformed into one's own wisdom. Transformed to this degree, the external acts of expounding, divining, and officiating all become superfluous. This chapter's "that in which he delights and which he savors is the statements on the lines" -- savoring the statements is precisely this process of transformation. Savored to the point of transformation, one becomes skilled in the *Changes*, and one may dispense with divination.

Yet note that what Master Xun says is "does not divine," not "must not divine." Not divining means having no need to divine, not being forbidden to divine. This chapter says, "acting, he observes the changes and savors the divination," and likewise imposes no prohibition on divination -- it merely treats divination as an act of savoring. Taken together: for one who has no need to divine, should he nonetheless divine, it remains merely a form of savoring. For one skilled in the *Changes*, divination is a form of savoring, not a dependency. This is the Confucian attitude toward divination: neither forbidding it, nor depending on it, but taking it as an object of savoring.

### 8.3 Savoring the Divination and Divining About Peril

#### 8.3.1 Lady Mu Jiang's Self-Interpretation of Hexagram Sui

The *Zuo Tradition* records an event in the ninth year of Duke Xiang. Lady Mu Jiang of Lu, having been moved to the Eastern Palace, cast the milfoil stalks and obtained hexagram Gen changing at its second line, which the scribes read as hexagram Gen becoming hexagram Sui (Following). Sui carries the meaning of going forth, they said, and so she could leave. Lady Mu Jiang said: "No. This is spoken of in the *Zhouyi*: 'Sui: sublime, prevailing, advantageous, and steadfast -- without blame.' Sublimity is the greatest of bodily excellences; prevailing is the coming together of what is admirable; advantage is the harmony of what is right; steadfastness is the trunk of an affair. To embody benevolence is sufficient to lead others; to have admirable virtue is sufficient to accord with propriety; to bring advantage to things is sufficient to harmonize what is right; to be firm and steadfast is sufficient to carry an affair through. Being so, one cannot deceive with these words, and so, though one follows, one is without blame. Now, I am a woman who has taken part in disorder; being, from the first, in a lowly position and lacking in benevolence, I cannot be called sublime; not bringing peace to the state, I cannot be called prevailing; acting in a way that harms myself, I cannot be called advantageous; abandoning my position for wanton pleasure, I cannot be called steadfast. Those who possess these four virtues may follow and be without blame. I possess none of them -- how could this be Sui for me$24 Since I have chosen evil for myself, how could I be without blame$25 I shall surely die here, and shall not get out."

This passage of Lady Mu Jiang's is an outstanding example of savoring the statements correcting savoring the divination. The scribes, going by the result of the divination, said she could leave; Lady Mu Jiang, going by the principle within the statement, said she could not. She measured herself, one by one, against the four virtues of sublimity, prevailing, advantage, and steadfastness, found herself possessed of not a single one, and therefore concluded that she could not possibly attain the blamelessness of hexagram Sui. The divination said fortune; the statement said no fortune -- she trusted the statement, not the divination.

This is precisely the relationship between "savoring the statements" and "savoring the divination" in this chapter. Once a result is divined, it is not to be taken and used at once; it must be savored through the statement. The statement says that only one who possesses the four virtues is without blame -- one must therefore ask oneself whether one possesses them. If not, the fortune of the divination does not count as fortune. Lady Mu Jiang was a woman who had erred, yet she had read the *Changes* to such a depth that she could use the statement to examine herself -- this is precisely the practice of "regret and remorse are the images of anxious care." She knew where her own fault lay, and knew that the fortune of the divination did not belong to her. This is savoring the divination without being deceived by it.

#### 8.3.2 "The *Changes* Cannot Be Used to Divine About Peril"

The affair of Nan Kuai, recorded in the twelfth year of Duke Zhao in the *Zuo Tradition*, has already been quoted above. About to rebel, he divined "a yellow lower garment, sublime good fortune," and took this to mean great fortune. Zifu Huibo said to him: "I have studied this before. Where the matter is one of loyalty and good faith, it may hold; otherwise it will surely fail. Outwardly strong, inwardly mild -- this is loyalty; harmonious in leading with steadfastness -- this is good faith. Hence it says, 'a yellow lower garment, sublime good fortune.' Yellow is the color of the center; the lower garment is the ornament of what is below; sublimity is the greatest of what is good. If the center is not loyal, one does not attain that color; if what is below is not deferential, one does not attain that ornament; if the affair is not good, one does not attain that highest degree. When outer and inner accord in harmony, this is loyalty; when one leads the affair with good faith, this is deference; when one holds fast to all three virtues, this is goodness -- without these three, one cannot merit it. Moreover, the *Changes* cannot be used to divine about peril -- what affair, then, could this concern$26 And could it, in any case, be adorned so$27 Where the center is admirable, one may be yellow; where what is above is admirable, one may be sublime; where what is below is admirable, one may be the lower garment. Only when all three are complete may one cast the stalks. Should there be any deficiency, then though the milfoil says fortune, it is not yet so."

Zifu Huibo's words follow the very same pattern as Lady Mu Jiang's. Fortune has been divined, but one must ask what affair is being undertaken. If it is an affair of loyalty and good faith, then fortune is truly fortune; if it is an affair of walking in peril, then even a divined fortune is not fortune. "The *Changes* cannot be used to divine about peril" means that within the order of Heaven and Earth that the *Changes* displays, there is no place for peril. One who walks in peril stands outside that order, and the fortune and misfortune of the *Changes* do not apply to him.

Taken together, these two episodes draw a boundary around this chapter's "savoring the divination." The precondition for savoring the divination is "the repose in which the noble person dwells is the order of the *Changes*." For one who rests secure in order, divining while acting has meaning. For one who does not rest secure in order and walks in peril instead, divination has no meaning -- however fortunate the result, it is merely a lucky windfall. This links the first half of this chapter to the second half: dwelling in repose within order is the precondition for savoring the divination; failing to dwell, and walking in peril instead, turns divination into divining about peril. The *Doctrine of the Mean*'s "the noble person dwells in ease and awaits the Mandate; the petty person walks in peril and hopes for a stroke of luck" is precisely a summary of this very point.

### 8.4 The Counsel of Man and the Counsel of Spirits

The final chapter of the Lower *Xici* says: "Heaven and Earth established their positions, and the sage brought his capacities to completion. The counsel of man and the counsel of the spirits were joined, and the common people took part in that capacity." Heaven and Earth established their positions, and the sage brought his own capacities to completion. The counsel of man and the counsel of the spirits are used together, and the common people, too, are able to take part. This "counsel of man and counsel of the spirits" can serve as a summary of this chapter's savoring of the statements and savoring of the divination.

Savoring the statements is the counsel of man. The statements were appended by the sage; they are human wisdom, and to savor the statements is to apply human wisdom in deliberation. Savoring the divination is the counsel of the spirits. Divination inquires of the milfoil stalks and the tortoise shell, seeking beyond the bounds of human wisdom; to savor the divination is to draw upon the counsel of the spirits for reference. The *Xici* says the counsel of man and the counsel of the spirits are used together; this chapter says savoring the statements and savoring the divination are used together -- the two accord.

But the order of the two differs in a telling way. This chapter first speaks of savoring the statements, and only after speaks of savoring the divination; first speaks of dwelling, and only after speaks of acting. The counsel of man comes first, the counsel of the spirits after. This accords with the attitude of the Master's "divination alone would be superfluous" and Master Xun's "one skilled in the *Changes* does not divine": the counsel of man takes the lead, the counsel of the spirits assists. Only once the counsel of man is exhausted does the counsel of the spirits have meaning. To seek the counsel of the spirits before the counsel of man has been exhausted is precisely the kind of divination that Lady Mu Jiang criticized in herself, and that Zifu Huibo warned against.

The phrase "the common people took part in that capacity" is likewise significant. When the counsel of man and the counsel of the spirits are used together, the common people too can take part. This means the *Changes* does not belong to the sage alone; it can be shared, so that the common people too may take part in it. This chapter says, "the sages established the hexagrams and observed the images," and also, "dwelling, the noble person observes the images" -- sage and noble person spoken of together are precisely this same point. The sage makes it, the noble person learns it, the common people take part in it. The Way of the *Changes* is meant to be handed down, generation after generation. And the manner of its handing down is precisely what this chapter describes: dwelling, one observes the images and savors the statements; acting, one observes the changes and savors the divination. This is a road that anyone at all may walk.

## 9 "From Heaven Comes Its Aid -- Fortune, and Nothing but Advantage"

### 9.1 The Top Line of Hexagram Da You

The final line of this chapter is: "Thus: from Heaven comes its aid -- fortune, and nothing but advantage." This is not the author's own line, but a quotation of the line statement of the top line of hexagram Da You (Great Possession). The top line of Da You reads: "From Heaven comes its aid -- fortune, and nothing but advantage." The *Xiang* commentary says: "The supreme fortune of Da You's top line comes from Heaven's aid."

Why does this chapter close by gathering itself into this line statement$28 The common reading takes it simply as an auspicious closing remark: act as the noble person has been described, and Heaven will grant its aid, and all will be fortunate. This reading is not wrong, but it is far too shallow. The author of the *Xici* would not casually quote an auspicious phrase merely to close out a chapter. This line carries a precise and deliberate resonance.

Of hexagram Da You, the *Tuan* commentary says: "Da You: the yielding attains the position of honor and great centrality, and those above and below respond to it -- this is called Great Possession. Its virtue is firm and vigorous, cultivated and illuminating; it responds to Heaven and acts according to the moment, and so it is sublimely prevailing." The fifth line, yielding, occupies the position of honor and holds the center, and both those above and those below respond to it. Firm and vigorous, cultivated and illuminating, it responds to Heaven and acts according to the moment. What this hexagram describes is a situation of great possession, and the very core of that situation is "responding to Heaven and acting according to the moment." The two words "according to the moment" are precisely what this chapter has been describing all along in "change and transformation are the images of advance and withdrawal" and "the firm and the yielding are the images of day and night" -- acting in compliance with the moment.

The top line is the topmost of Da You's six lines. Generally speaking, the top line marks the extremity of a position, and a position at its extremity carries the danger of arrogant excess. The top line of hexagram Qian, "the arrogant dragon has cause for regret," is precisely this principle. Yet the top line of Da You, "from Heaven comes its aid -- fortune, and nothing but advantage," carries no danger of arrogance whatsoever. Why is this$29 For the answer, we must turn to the *Xici*'s own explanation of this line.

### 9.2 Compliance and Good Faith

#### 9.2.1 The Master's Own Gloss

Later in the Upper *Xici* there is a passage devoted specifically to explaining this line statement: "The *Changes* says: 'From Heaven comes its aid -- fortune, and nothing but advantage.' The Master said: 'Aid means to assist. What Heaven assists is compliance; what people assist is good faith. Treading in good faith and thinking of compliance, and moreover esteeming the worthy -- this is why from Heaven comes its aid, fortune, and nothing but advantage.'"

This is the Master's own explanation of "from Heaven comes its aid." Aid means assistance. What Heaven assists is compliance; what people assist is good faith. Treading in good faith while thinking of compliance, and, moreover, esteeming those who are worthy -- for this reason Heaven comes to assist him, and he is fortunate with nothing but advantage. This passage is precisely the *Xici*'s own gloss on the closing line of this chapter. Within the very same *Xici*, this line statement is first quoted to close Chapter Two, and later explained through the Master's own words. The author surely intended for the reader to set the two passages side by side.

Read together, the meaning of this chapter's final line comes fully into view. "From Heaven comes its aid" is not aid arriving for no reason; it is conditional -- conditional upon compliance and good faith. Compliance brings Heaven's aid; good faith brings people's aid. With Heaven's aid and people's aid together, one attains fortune with nothing but advantage. So this chapter's final line gathers everything said before it into these two words: compliance and good faith.

#### 9.2.2 Compliance Is Resting Secure in Order; Good Faith Is Savoring the Statements

What, then, in the earlier part of this chapter, corresponds to compliance, and what corresponds to good faith$30

Compliance is "the repose in which the noble person dwells is the order of the *Changes*." To rest secure in order is compliance. Order is the order of Heaven and Earth, and to rest secure in order is to comply with Heaven and Earth. The Master said, "what Heaven assists is compliance" -- what Heaven assists is precisely this kind of person, one who rests secure in order. The first half of this chapter, in speaking of the firm and the yielding, day and night, change and transformation, advance and withdrawal, is throughout urging people to move in compliance with the moment. To dwell and rest secure in order, to act without ever losing the proper moment -- all of this is compliance. Compliance is what runs through the first half of the chapter, up through "that in which he dwells and rests secure."

Good faith is "that in which he delights and which he savors is the statements on the lines," together with "dwelling, he observes the images and savors their statements; acting, he observes the changes and savors the divination." Savoring the statements and savoring the divination must be rooted in good faith. Good faith is sincerity, a refusal to deceive oneself. When savoring the statements, one apprehends, in true earnest, the principle within them, not seeking some pretext; when savoring the divination, one examines, in true earnest, one's own circumstances, not seeking a lucky windfall. Lady Mu Jiang's self-examination against the four virtues, and Zifu Huibo's saying, "where the matter is one of loyalty and good faith, it may hold" -- both are good faith. The Master said, "what people assist is good faith" -- what people assist is precisely this kind of person, one who savors the statements and the divination in sincerity. Good faith is what the second half of this chapter describes.

"And moreover esteeming the worthy" -- what does esteeming the worthy mean$31 Speaking in terms of hexagram Da You, the fifth line holds the position of honor, and the top line stands above the fifth; that the fifth line can esteem this worthy top line is why the top line, though at the very extremity of the hexagram, is not arrogant. Speaking in terms of this chapter, the noble person observes the images and savors the statements; the statements were appended by the sage, and to savor the statements is to esteem the sage. The sage is the worthy one, and the noble person's learning from the sage is esteeming the worthy. This chapter opens by saying, "the sages established the hexagrams and observed the images; they appended statements to them and thereby clarified fortune and misfortune," and closes by saying that the noble person, savoring the statements, attains "from Heaven comes its aid" -- and the very reason the noble person can attain Heaven's aid is that he has esteemed the statements appended by the sage.

In this way, the relationship between this chapter's final line and the chapter as a whole becomes entirely clear. Compliance is the first half, good faith the second half, esteeming the worthy runs from beginning to end. The three together make up "from Heaven comes its aid -- fortune, and nothing but advantage." This is no casual auspicious phrase; it is the summation of the entire chapter.

### 9.3 The Word "From"

#### 9.3.1 "Seeking Many Blessings for Oneself"

The word "from" in "from Heaven comes its aid" deserves separate discussion. Read literally, "from Heaven comes its aid" means an aid that comes from Heaven. But this word "from" carries a further layer of meaning: Heaven's aid is something one brings upon oneself. It is not that Heaven takes the initiative to aid someone; it is that once a person achieves compliance and good faith, Heaven's aid naturally arrives.

Master Meng said: "There is no calamity or blessing that one does not bring upon oneself." Neither calamity nor blessing is anything but something one brings upon oneself. He then quotes the *Songs*: "Forever matching oneself to the Mandate, seeking many blessings for oneself." To match oneself forever to the Mandate of Heaven, seeking many blessings for oneself. He also quotes the *Tai Jia*: "The disasters Heaven sends may still be escaped; the disasters one brings on oneself, one cannot survive." Disasters made by Heaven can still be avoided; disasters one brings upon oneself leave no way to live. In these lines, the "self" of "seeking many blessings for oneself" and the "from" of "from Heaven comes its aid" are of one and the same kind. Blessing is sought by oneself; Heaven's aid, too, is brought about by oneself.

This point echoes, from beginning to end, the word "clarify" at the opening of this chapter. The chapter opens by saying the sage "clarifies" fortune and misfortune, not creates it -- fortune and misfortune already reside within things themselves. The chapter closes with "from Heaven comes its aid" -- Heaven's aid, too, is not created by Heaven, but brought about by a person's own compliance and good faith. From beginning to end, the author of the *Xici* has been emphasizing one single thing: the root of fortune, misfortune, aid, and harm lies within the person himself. Heaven merely responds according to what the person does. This is the *Changes*' understanding of Heaven and Man: Heaven is not some external ruler, but the answer to the Way that a person walks.

#### 9.3.2 Above, Yet Never Arrogant

Let us return to the top line of Da You. As noted earlier, the top line marks the extremity of a position, and generally carries the worry of arrogant excess. Yet the top line of Da You is fortunate with nothing but advantage. Reading through the Master's explanation, this is because the top line "treads in good faith and thinks of compliance, and moreover esteems the worthy." Though the top line occupies the very highest position, it does not consider itself exalted; instead it complies with the fifth line below it and responds to it. The fifth line esteems it as worthy, and it does not, in turn, take its own worthiness as grounds for lording it over others. This is being above, yet never arrogant.

For this chapter, the significance is this: the noble person who "dwells and rests secure" may reach even the very highest position without ever becoming arrogant. Why$1 Because what he rests secure in is order, not position. Position can rise to the very highest point, but order never changes. In the very highest position, still resting secure in order, still complying, still holding good faith, still esteeming the worthy -- then however high the position, arrogance never follows. The top line of Qian, "the arrogant dragon has cause for regret," arises because being above brings a loss of order; the top line of Da You, "from Heaven comes its aid," arises because being above brings a resting secure in order. Both are top lines, yet one has cause for regret and the other is fortunate with nothing but advantage -- the difference lies entirely in resting secure in order or not.

The Most High said, "what is high takes the low as its foundation," and also, "the reason rivers and seas are able to be kings of the hundred valleys is that they are skilled at lying below them." To occupy a high place while being able to lie low is Daoist wisdom. That the top line of Da You occupies the highest position and yet responds downward to the fifth line is precisely occupying a high place while being able to lie low. On this point, too, Confucianism and Daoism are in accord. This chapter closes with "from Heaven comes its aid -- fortune, and nothing but advantage," telling the student of the *Changes*: one who rests secure in order need not fear a high position. Height is not the danger; failing to rest secure in order is the danger. This, too, is the final layer of meaning within "dwelling in ease and awaiting the Mandate": one who dwells in ease is at ease in any position whatsoever, even in the very highest position.

## 10 Conclusion: A Book of *Changes*, a Noble Person's Everyday Life

### 10.1 The Circle Closed by the Whole Chapter

Let us look back over this chapter once more, from beginning to end. The sages established the hexagrams and observed the images, appended statements and clarified fortune and misfortune -- this is the making of the *Changes*. Fortune, misfortune, regret, remorse, change, transformation, the firm, the yielding, each with its own image -- these are the images within the *Changes*. The motion of the six lines is the Way of the Three Ultimates -- this is the structure of the *Changes*. The noble person dwells and rests secure in order, delights in and savors the statements -- this is the state of mind with which the *Changes* is used. The noble person, dwelling, observes the images and savors the statements; acting, observes the changes and savors the divination -- this is the method by which the *Changes* is used. From Heaven comes its aid, fortune with nothing but advantage -- this is the result of using the *Changes*.

From sage to noble person, from making to learning, from image to statement to divination to fortune -- this forms a complete circle. The sage moves from the images of Heaven and Earth to the written statements; the noble person moves from the written statements back to the images of Heaven and Earth. The sage clarifies fortune and misfortune; the noble person attains Heaven's aid. What the sage clarifies and what the noble person attains are one and the same order of Heaven and Earth. What lies between them is repose and delight, dwelling and acting, compliance and good faith, anxious care and delighted savoring. All of this, in the end, comes to rest on the word "from" in "from Heaven comes its aid": Heaven's aid is brought about by oneself, fortune and misfortune are sought by oneself, order is inherently already there, and all a person need do is walk back to it.

The several explorations put forward in this essay may here be gathered together once more. The four clauses "is the image of..." form a chain tracing effect back to cause, and reading them in reverse gives the sequence of practice. The firm and the yielding are the images of day and night; the firm and the yielding are not a material nature but time itself. The position of Man, the third and fourth lines, holds much misfortune and much apprehension, and anxious care is Man's inherent condition among the Three Ultimates. "That in which the noble person dwells and rests secure is the order of the *Changes*" is an intertextual echo of the *Doctrine of the Mean*'s "dwelling in ease and awaiting the Mandate," and resting secure in order is the precondition for savoring the divination. "From Heaven comes its aid," read through the Master's own explanation of compliance and good faith, is the gathering-together of the whole chapter, not a mere auspicious phrase. None of these points is a new reading in the philological sense; they are, rather, connections made at the level of meaning and principle. The pre-Qin texts were originally a single whole, and among the *Xici*, the *Analects*, the *Doctrine of the Mean*, *Mencius*, *Laozi*, *Zhuangzi*, and the *Zuo Tradition*, there have always been many resonances left unspoken. To string them together is one of the pleasures of reading the ancient books -- which is to say, it is precisely what this chapter calls "savoring."

### 10.2 Reading It Today

What can a reader today draw from this chapter$2 Roughly the following layers.

One concerns change. The firm and the yielding are the images of day and night; change and transformation are time itself. Every circumstance is temporary; when the firm reaches its extremity, the yielding comes; when the yielding reaches its extremity, the firm comes. Knowing this, one keeps anxious care alive in times of favor, and does not despair in times of adversity. The Most High's holding to the yielding and the *Changes*' "the arrogant dragon has cause for regret" are this same principle applied at its two ends.

One concerns position. Man dwells amid the Three Ultimates, in a position holding much misfortune and much apprehension. This is not a fault of Man's own; it is Man's very condition. But it is precisely because of this abundance of apprehension that Man comes to hold anxious care; and precisely because of anxious care that those who feel peril are made secure. To rest secure in one's own position is not resignation to fate; it is knowing where one stands, and then acting from that position. To act according to one's present station, and to find, wherever one is, nothing that does not suit oneself.

One concerns learning. Studying the *Changes* is not for seeking fortune, but for being without great fault. Savoring the statements is a lifelong affair, growing brighter day by day and month by month, ever clearer the more one savors. Savored to the point of transformation, divination is no longer needed; and even should one divine, it remains merely a form of savoring. This is an unhurried way of learning, in no haste for results, finding delight within the process itself.

One concerns Heaven and Man. Heaven's aid is brought about by oneself; calamity and blessing are sought by oneself. Heaven is not some external ruler; it is the answer to the Way that a person walks. Complying with the order of Heaven and Earth, holding good faith in the statements one savors, Heaven's aid naturally arrives. This is the plainest and yet the most profound of principles: attend to one's own affairs, and Heaven is there.

This chapter, in barely a hundred characters, describes a noble person's everyday life. In ordinary dwelling, he observes the images and savors the statements; in the conduct of affairs, he observes the changes and savors the divination. He rests secure in his own position, delights in the sage's statements, holds anxious care, and never loses the proper moment. Living one's days this way is "from Heaven comes its aid -- fortune, and nothing but advantage." There is no miracle in it -- only a walking back to the order that Heaven and Earth always already possessed. What the sage once observed was this very order; what the noble person, in the end, returns to is this very order. Making and learning, here, become one.