A Modest Discourse on "Li" (Ritual Propriety) — Part 1

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

A discussion grounded in Master Xun's "Discourse on Ritual Propriety" (Lilun) and pre-Qin Confucian and Daoist texts

A Word at the Outset

This article takes as its main thread the "Discourse on Ritual Propriety" (Lilun) of Master Xun (Xunzi, c. 313–238 BCE), and attempts to unfold the concept of li ("ritual propriety") in as much detail as possible. Master Xun is chosen because, among all the pre-Qin thinkers (that is, before the First Emperor of Qin unified China in 221 BCE), his treatment of li is the most systematic and complete. He not only inquired into the origin of li, but also probed deeply into its cosmological foundations, its operating principles, and its civilizational significance. At the same time, this article draws broadly on other important pre-Qin texts — including Confucius's Analects (Lunyu), Mencius's Mencius (Mengzi), Laozi's Daodejing, Zhuangzi's Zhuangzi, and the "Great Treatise" (Xici zhuan) of the Book of Changes (Zhouyi) system — in order to present the full countenance of this concept within the pre-Qin intellectual world.

I. What Is "Li"$1 — Beyond the Predicament of Translation

1.1 A Word Nearly Impossible to Translate

When a Chinese concept is rendered into a Western language, it often loses the greater part of its meaning. "Li" (礼) is no exception. Common English renderings include: ritual, propriety, etiquette, rites, ceremony, decorum. Dutch offers a similarly limited range of equivalents: ritueel, fatsoen, ceremonie. Yet any single one of these translations captures only one facet of li.

Why should this be so$2 Because in pre-Qin thought, li is not merely a code of conduct or a set of ceremonial procedures. It is an all-encompassing concept, spanning multiple dimensions at once:

• The cosmological dimension: the very order by which Heaven and Earth operate is itself an expression of li
• The dimension of social institutions: the arrangement of rank, division of labor, and allocation of authority and responsibility within a population
• The dimension of interpersonal relations: the proper way for people to conduct themselves toward one another
• The dimension of personal cultivation: how a person cultivates their own character
• The dimension of sacrificial ritual: the manner of communing with Heaven, Earth, ancestors, and spirits
• The dimension of emotional expression: expressing joy, anger, sorrow, and delight appropriately on different occasions
• The aesthetic dimension: what counts as beautiful, elegant, and cultured

To use an analogy: if li were a crystal, then translations such as ritual, propriety, and etiquette each capture only one facet of that crystal. The crystal as a whole is far richer than any single facet.

1.2 The Origins of the Character "Li"

Some clues can be glimpsed in the character itself. The traditional form of li is 禮. On the left is shi (示, abbreviated 礻), the pictograph of an ancient altar or of the spirits — in ancient script, nearly every character related to sacrifice or to spirits and ghosts bears this radical. On the right is feng (豊), the pictograph of a vessel filled with sacrificial offerings — jade and grain placed within a vessel, to be presented to Heaven and Earth or to the ancestors.

Thus the original meaning of li was simply the act of presenting offerings to Heaven, Earth, and the ancestors. It was the means by which human beings established a connection with transcendent presences — Heaven, Earth, the ancestors, and the spirits.

By the pre-Qin period, however, the meaning of li had already expanded far beyond sacrifice. It grew from a religious act into the organizing principle of the whole of human civilization. This expansion is exactly what we find in Master Xun's "Discourse on Ritual Propriety."

1.3 How the Pre-Qin Thinkers Regarded "Li"

Before turning to Master Xun's "Discourse on Ritual Propriety," let us first sketch, in broad strokes, the attitudes of various pre-Qin thinkers toward li, so that the reader may have an overall map to work from.

Confucius (c. 551–479 BCE) bound li tightly together with ren (仁) — the deepest goodness and empathy within human nature. He made one especially important statement: "If a person is not ren, what has he to do with li$3 If a person is not ren, what has he to do with music$4" (Analects 3.3) — if a person lacks an inner heart of ren, then of what meaning is li to him$5 Of what meaning is music to him$6 In other words, Confucius held that the foundation of li lies in inner feeling, in ren. Li without ren is mere hollow performance.

Mencius (c. 372–289 BCE) traced the root of li still further back, to a natural inclination within human nature itself. He proposed the celebrated doctrine of the "Four Sprouts": "The heart of deference and yielding is the sprout of li." (Mencius, "Gongsun Chou I") — human beings are born with a psychological inclination toward yielding, and this inclination is the sprout of li. In Mencius's view, li is not something imposed on people from without, but the development and perfection of a seed of goodness already present within human nature.

Master Xun (Xunzi, c. 313–238 BCE) stood in sharp contrast to Mencius. He held that human nature (xing) inclines toward what is bad — "bad" here not meaning that people are born wicked, but that if the natural desires of human beings are left unchecked and unguided, they will lead to contention and disorder. Li, therefore, is a cultural institution created by the Former Kings (the sage-rulers of antiquity) to address this condition. The source of li is not human nature itself, but human wisdom and effort — what Master Xun calls wei (伪), that is, deliberate, conscious activity.

Laozi (whose dates, and even whose historicity, remain disputed, generally placed somewhere from the late Spring and Autumn period into the Warring States) took a critical stance toward li. In Chapter 38 of the Daodejing, he sets out a sequence descending step by step from the Dao: "When the Dao is lost, only then is there virtue (de); when virtue is lost, only then is there benevolence (ren); when benevolence is lost, only then is there righteousness (yi); when righteousness is lost, only then is there li. Now li is the thinning of loyalty and good faith, and the beginning of disorder." Li, in this view, is what remains once loyalty and good faith have grown thin — indeed the very onset of disorder. But it should be noted: the li that Laozi criticizes is a li that has already lost its inner substance and been hollowed into an empty shell. We shall return to this point in detail later.

Zhuangzi (c. 369–286 BCE) questioned li from yet another angle: he held that true harmony arises when people dwell together spontaneously, needing no external norms whatsoever. He offers a famous image: "When the springs dry up and the fish are stranded together on dry land, they moisten each other with their breath and slather each other with spittle — but this is not so good as forgetting one another in the rivers and lakes." (Zhuangzi, "The Great and Venerable Teacher") — when the spring dries up and the fish are trapped on land, they moisten one another's bodies with saliva; such "mutual aid," touching though it is, is far inferior to swimming freely, each forgetting the other, in the rivers and lakes. In Zhuangzi's view, a society that must be held together by li is like those fish stranded on dry land — the truly good state is one in which none of this is needed at all.

Mozi (c. 468–376 BCE) represents yet another orientation. He opposed the Confucian li of graduated distinctions (different treatment according to differences in status), advocating instead "impartial care" (jian ai) — loving all people equally, without regard to closeness or distance of relation. He held that the elaborate Confucian rites of mourning and sacrifice were a tremendous waste of social resources, and advocated "moderation in funerals" and "condemnation of music."

Such is an overview of li within the pre-Qin intellectual world. Let us now turn to Master Xun's "Discourse on Ritual Propriety" in depth.

II. The Origin of "Li": Desire, Order, and the Birth of Civilization

2.1 Master Xun's Question: Whence Does "Li" Arise$7

At the very opening of the "Discourse on Ritual Propriety," Master Xun poses a fundamental question directly:

Whence does li arise$8

It is said: Human beings are born with desires. When desire is not satisfied, one cannot but seek to satisfy it. When such seeking has no measure or bound, there cannot but be contention. Contention brings disorder, and disorder brings exhaustion. The Former Kings hated such disorder, and so they established li and righteousness (yi) in order to allot things — thereby nurturing people's desires and providing for their seeking. They caused desire never to be exhausted by things, and things never to be depleted by desire; the two sustaining and increasing each other in mutual reliance. This is whence li arises.

— Xunzi, "Discourse on Ritual Propriety," Passage 1

Rendered into continuous prose: "Whence does li arise$9 The answer is: human beings are born with desires. When one has desire but cannot obtain what is desired, one cannot but seek it. When such seeking has no measure or boundary, there cannot but be contention. Contention leads to disorder, and disorder leads to exhaustion and want. The Former Kings hated such disorder, and so they established li and yi (righteousness) in order to allot and distinguish, thereby nurturing people's desires and supplying their seeking — so that desire would never be exhausted for want of goods, and goods would never be depleted by the excess of desire. The two sustain and grow together — this is whence li arises."

This passage deserves close reading, sentence by sentence.

2.2 "Human Beings Are Born with Desires": Facing Desire Squarely

Master Xun's starting point is a plain fact: human beings are born with desires. Hungry, one desires to eat; cold, one desires to be clothed; weary, one desires to rest — this is the natural condition of human beings, part of their xing (nature).

Note well: Master Xun does not say that desire is "bad." He merely says that desire is a fact. This attitude matters a great deal, for it means that the purpose of li is not to extinguish desire, but to regulate and guide it. This is precisely what distinguishes li from asceticism as found in certain religions.

Let us compare this with other pre-Qin thinkers:

• Laozi takes a more wary attitude toward desire. He says: "Do not exalt the worthy, and the people will not contend; do not prize goods hard to obtain, and the people will not turn to theft; do not display what is desirable, and the people's hearts will not be thrown into confusion." (Daodejing, Ch. 3) — best of all would be for people never to give rise to desire in the first place. Yet even Laozi does not call for the utter extinction of desire, but rather advocates "few private aims, few desires" (Daodejing, Ch. 19) — diminishing self-interest, lessening desire.
• Zhuangzi offers a celebrated parable about a fine horse: Bole was skilled at judging horses, yet in the course of "caring for" them — branding them with hot irons, trimming their manes, paring their hooves — he in fact injured the horses' natural disposition. Zhuangzi suggests through this that excessive human management (li included) may in fact run contrary to the natural disposition of things.
• Mencius held that human nature possesses an "innate moral knowledge and innate moral ability" — people naturally know what is good. Desire, too, contains an element of goodness — the desire to love one's kin, the desire to help others. The key is not to suppress desire, but to guide it toward the good. The "heart of deference and yielding" is itself a natural inclination, requiring only cultivation.

Master Xun's position is neither as wary of desire as Laozi's, nor as sanguine about it as Mencius's. He adopts a realist attitude: desire is a neutral fact, and the crucial question is how it is handled.

2.3 "When Seeking Has No Measure or Boundary, There Cannot but Be Contention": The Logical Chain from Desire to Disorder

Master Xun goes on to lay out a tightly reasoned chain:

Desire → Seeking → Unbounded seeking → Contention → Disorder → Exhaustion and want

The critical link in this chain is "having no measure or boundary" (wu du liang fen jie). Master Xun is not saying that seeking itself is bad. What he says is that seeking without restraint or limit inevitably leads to conflict.

The term "boundary" (fen, 分) here is of great importance. Fen is a core concept in Master Xun's system of thought, carrying two meanings at once: "to distinguish" and "to distribute" or "allot." Without fen, there is no order; without order, there is only disorder.

This reasoning holds equally in modern society: if everyone in a society pursues their own interests without limit, and there is no institutional constraint or mechanism of distribution whatsoever, then contention and disorder are inevitable. Natural resources are finite, while human desire tends toward the infinite — this contradiction must be reconciled by some means.

2.4 "Establishing Li and Yi in Order to Allot": Li as a Solution

The Former Kings (the sage-rulers of antiquity) hated such disorder, and so they established li and yi in order to allot. "Li yi" here is a compound of li and yi (righteousness). The original meaning of yi is "fitting" — what is proper and appropriate. "Li yi" together thus means "a proper and fitting ordering."

Note Master Xun's choice of words: he says "established" (zhi — to institute, to create), not "discovered" or "restored." This means that, in Master Xun's view, li is not something that already existed in nature, nor something innately present in the human heart, but rather a creation of human wisdom. This is precisely what distinguishes Master Xun clearly from Mencius: Mencius held that the sprout of li (the "heart of deference and yielding") is inherent in human nature; Master Xun held that li is an acquired, deliberately created human artifact.

But "humanly created" does not mean "arbitrarily fabricated." The "Former Kings" of whom Master Xun speaks are not ordinary people, but sages possessed of the highest wisdom. They observed the patterns by which Heaven and Earth operate and the needs of human beings living in groups, and on this basis created li. Although li is man-made, it accords with the Way of Heaven and conforms to the patterns of nature. We shall discuss this point in detail later, in the discussion of "li and Heaven and Earth."

2.5 "The Two Sustaining and Increasing Each Other": The Wisdom of Dynamic Balance

Master Xun's description of the function of li is masterful:

They caused desire never to be exhausted by things, and things never to be depleted by desire; the two sustaining and increasing each other in mutual reliance.

"Desire is not exhausted for want of goods, and goods are not depleted by the excess of desire — the two sustain and increase each other in mutual reliance."

This is not a zero-sum game, but a positive-sum game. The goal of li is neither to suppress desire in order to conserve goods, nor to expand goods without limit in order to satisfy desire, but to let both grow together — "the two sustaining and increasing each other."

Embedded here is a profound economic intuition: a proper institutional arrangement can increase the total welfare of society, rather than merely redistributing existing welfare.

Let us draw an interesting comparison with Laozi. Laozi says: "The Way of Heaven diminishes what is excessive and supplements what is insufficient. The way of humankind is not so: it diminishes what is insufficient in order to enrich what is already excessive." (Daodejing, Ch. 77) — the Way of Heaven diminishes surplus and supplements deficiency, while the way of humankind does the opposite, taking from the deficient to enrich the surplus. Laozi held that the tendency of human society is to intensify inequality — the rich growing richer, the poor growing poorer.

Master Xun's li is precisely what addresses this problem. Through fen (distinguishing and distributing), li causes the distribution of social resources to tend toward reasonableness. As Master Xun states further on: "cutting the long to mend the short, diminishing what is excessive, and supplementing what is insufficient" (Passage 24) — cutting what is too long, joining on what is too short; diminishing what is surplus, augmenting what is lacking. This coincides remarkably with what Laozi describes as the "Way of Heaven."

This reveals an interesting fact: Master Xun and Laozi in fact agree on the direction that li ought to take — both hold that some mechanism is needed to balance excess and deficiency. Their disagreement lies in means: Laozi advocates according with nature and governing through non-action (wuwei); Master Xun advocates achieving this through the humanly created institution of li.

III. The Three Roots of "Li": Life, Lineage, and the Foundation of Order

3.1 Heaven and Earth, the Ancestors, the Ruler and Teacher

Having discussed the origin of li, Master Xun presses the inquiry further: if li is the fundamental institution of civilization, on what foundation does li itself rest$10

"Li" has three roots: Heaven and Earth are the root of life; the ancestors are the root of one's kind; the ruler and teacher are the root of order.

Without Heaven and Earth, whence would life come$11 Without the ancestors, whence would one's kind issue forth$12 Without the ruler and teacher, whence would order come$13 Should any of these three be lacking, there would be no peace for the people. Thus "li" serves Heaven above, serves Earth below, honors the ancestors, and exalts the ruler and teacher. These are the three roots of "li."

— Xunzi, "Discourse on Ritual Propriety," Passage 5

"Li has three roots: Heaven and Earth are the root of life; the ancestors are the root of one's kind (the transmission of one's lineage); the ruler and teacher are the root of order. Without Heaven and Earth, from where would life be obtained$14 Without the ancestors, from where would descendants issue$15 Without the ruler and teacher, from where would order be obtained$16 If any one of the three is lacking, there is no settled peace for the people. Thus li serves Heaven above and Earth below, honors the ancestors, and exalts the ruler and teacher. These are the three roots of li."

This passage establishes a three-tiered structure:

3.2 Heaven and Earth: The Root of Life

"Heaven and Earth are the root of life" — Heaven and Earth are the fundamental source of all life.

In pre-Qin thought, "Heaven and Earth" (tiandi) does not mean merely the physical sky and ground. "Heaven" (tian) at once encompasses the physical firmament, the patterns of nature, and a certain transcendent power or will. "Earth" is the foundation that bears and nourishes all living things.

The "Great Treatise" (Xici zhuan), in the very first section of its opening, states:

"Heaven is exalted, Earth is lowly; thus Qian and Kun are fixed. The lowly and the high are set out; thus the noble and the base have their places. Motion and stillness have their constancy; thus the firm and the yielding are distinguished. Things gather according to their kind, and beings divide into groups; thus fortune and misfortune arise."

This passage describes precisely the fundamental order between Heaven and Earth — and this order, in Master Xun's view, is the first root of li.

The relation between Heaven and Earth is not chaotic or random, but ordered and rhythmic. Heaven is above, Earth below; Heaven governs motion, Earth governs stillness; Heaven moves vigorously and unceasingly, Earth extends yieldingly to bear all things. This order is not imposed by human agency but is simply how things naturally are — yet it is precisely this natural order that li takes as its model in organizing human society.

A profound philosophical insight lies here: "Li" is not invented out of nothing; it takes the Way of Heaven and Earth as its archetype. The ranks, divisions of labor, and order found within human society are not the arbitrary invention of any ruler, but an imitation and application of a pattern of order already present within the cosmos.

3.3 The Ancestors: The Root of Lineage

"The ancestors are the root of one's kind" — the ancestors are the fundamental root of one's kind (one's clan, one's lineage).

In pre-Qin society (and for a long age before it), ancestor worship was among the most central of religious practices. A person exists because there were parents; parents existed because there were grandparents; and tracing this back further and further, one reaches the remote founding ancestors. This chain of lineage, extending from remote antiquity to the present, constitutes the foundation of one's "kind" (the same clan, the same lineage).

The function of li in this dimension is to maintain and reinforce the awareness of this chain of lineage. Through sacrificing to the ancestors, maintaining the ancestral temple, and recording genealogies, people continually reaffirm their place within this chain — at once a continuation of those who came before and a guide for those who come after.

Master Xun further points out that people of different rank serve different numbers of generations of ancestors:

Thus one who possesses the realm serves ten generations of ancestors; one who possesses a single state serves five generations; one who holds land sufficient for five chariots serves three generations; one who holds land sufficient for three chariots serves two generations; and one who lives by the labor of his own hands may not establish an ancestral temple at all. This is the means by which accumulated depth is distinguished — one whose accumulation is deep has bounty that flows broadly; one whose accumulation is shallow has bounty that flows narrowly.

— Xunzi, "Discourse on Ritual Propriety," Passage 8

The Son of Heaven, who possesses the whole realm, sacrifices to ten generations of ancestors; the feudal lords, who possess a single state, sacrifice to five generations; the lesser nobility, who hold smaller fiefs, sacrifice to three or two generations; while commoners, who live by the labor of their own hands, may not establish an ancestral temple at all.

To modern eyes, such a differentiated system of sacrifice may appear unequal. But Master Xun's explanation is this: "one whose accumulation is deep has bounty that flows broadly; one whose accumulation is shallow has bounty that flows narrowly." Here, "deep accumulation" refers not merely to the accumulation of material wealth, but more importantly to the accumulation of virtuous conduct and contribution. The reason the Son of Heaven sacrifices to ten generations is that his ancestors made tremendous contributions to all under Heaven, and so his "bounty" covers the broadest range.

3.4 The Ruler and Teacher: The Root of Order

"The ruler and teacher are the root of order" — the ruler and the teacher are the fundamental root of governance.

Note that "ruler" (jun) and "teacher" (shi) appear together. In pre-Qin thought, the governance of a society depends not only on political authority (the "ruler") but also on moral instruction and guidance (the "teacher"). A society with authority but no instruction is mere tyranny; a society with instruction but no authority to guarantee order cannot see that instruction take root.

Confucius says in the Analects: "Guide them with governmental policy, keep them in line with punishments, and the people will evade these and have no sense of shame. Guide them with virtue, keep them in line with li, and they will have a sense of shame and moreover will govern themselves." (Analects 2.3) — guiding with government decree and restraining with punishment leads people merely to avoid wrongdoing, without any inner sense of shame. Guiding with virtue and restraining with li, however, gives people not only a sense of shame but also the spontaneous inclination to return to the proper path.

This is the significance of the union of "ruler" and "teacher": political authority supplies the framework of order, while instruction (the function of the "teacher") causes people to identify with this order from within. Li is precisely the meeting point of the two — it is at once an institutional arrangement and a means of moral instruction.

3.5 The Union of the Three Roots: An Integrated Worldview

Taking these three "roots" together, we find that they constitute a complete picture of cosmos, humanity, and society:

• Heaven and Earth give us life and natural order
• The ancestors give us the transmission of lineage and the identity of kinship
• The ruler and teacher give us social order and cultural cultivation

The function of li is to run through all three of these levels — "serving Heaven above, serving Earth below, honoring the ancestors, and exalting the ruler and teacher." Through li, human beings are connected at once to Heaven and Earth and nature, to the transmission of lineage, and to social order. Li is the thread that weaves together cosmos, bloodline, and society.

This resonates deeply with the cosmology of the "Great Treatise." The cosmos depicted in the "Great Treatise" is a whole of nested layers: at the outermost is the Dao; within the Dao is the cosmos (all that lies between Heaven and Earth); within the cosmos is the operation of change (yi); and within change is contained the whole of human affairs. These layers interact with and influence one another.

Master Xun's "three roots of li" describe precisely this same structure: Heaven and Earth (the cosmic level) → the ancestors and lineage (between nature and society) → the ruler, teacher, and politics (the level of human affairs). Li is the means by which harmonious relations are maintained among these levels.

IV. Sacrifice and the Honoring of the Root: Returning to the Origin of Things

4.1 Honoring the Root: Why Set Out Plain Water and Raw Fish First at a Sumptuous Feast$17

In the "Discourse on Ritual Propriety," Master Xun devotes considerable space to the details of sacrificial ritual. To modern readers unfamiliar with the sacrificial institutions of ancient China, these discussions may seem foreign, even tedious. Yet behind these details lies a profoundly deep principle — honoring the root (gui ben).

Let us first see what Master Xun says:

Thus the king pairs Heaven with the Great Ancestor in sacrifice; the feudal lords dare not do away with their own ancestral temples; the great officers and knights have their fixed lineage-temples — all so as to distinguish the honoring of the beginning. To honor the beginning is to attain the root.

— Xunzi, "Discourse on Ritual Propriety," Passage 6

The Son of Heaven pairs Heaven with the Great Ancestor in sacrifice; the feudal lords dare not abolish their respective ancestral temples; the great officers and knights each have a fixed lineage-temple — all of this exists for the purpose of "honoring the beginning" (gui shi), that is, respecting and cherishing origins. "Honoring the beginning" is precisely "attaining the root of things."

Master Xun goes on to describe concretely how "honoring the root" is expressed within sacrificial ritual:

In the feast, though dark wine is exalted, wine and sweet liquor are also used; though millet and grain come first, rice and fine grain are served as the meal. In sacrifice, though the great unseasoned broth is set out, the many fine dishes satisfy hunger. This is to honor the root while drawing near to use. To honor the root is called pattern (wen); to draw near to use is called reason (li). When the two are joined, pattern is achieved, and all returns to the Great Unity — this is called the Great Exaltation.

— Xunzi, "Discourse on Ritual Propriety," Passage 10

In the feast-rite (xiang, the rite of banqueting), although fine wine (jiu li) is provided, dark wine — that is, plain water, or an extremely weak brew — must first be set out. Although the food served is fine rice and grain, millet — the ancient, coarser grain — must first be offered. In sacrifice, although various delicacies (shu xiu) are present, the great broth — pure meat broth with no seasoning whatsoever — must first be set out.

Why act in this way$18 Because these simple foods — plain water, raw fish, unseasoned broth — represent the original condition of things, representing the earliest manner of eating and drinking among the ancient forebears. To set them out first, before proceeding to fine foods, is to express respect for the root, the origin.

4.2 Pattern and Reason: Honoring the Root While Drawing Near to Practical Use

Master Xun here introduces two important concepts:

• Wen (文, "pattern" or "form"): in this context, wen refers to "form" or "outward expression." "To honor the root is called wen" — the honoring of the root is wen. Here wen does not mean "writing" but rather "an ornamented expression," "a form given refined shape."
• Li (理, "reason" or "principle," not to be confused with 礼 "li, ritual propriety" — a different character pronounced the same way): in this context, li (理) refers to "substance," to "the actual reasoning or practical use of a thing." "To draw near to use is called li (理)" — attending to practical need is li (理).

"When the two are joined, pattern is achieved, and all returns to the Great Unity" — when wen (the formal honoring of the root) and li 理 (attention to practical need) are joined together, the "Great Unity" (da yi) — the highest unification — is attained. This is called the "Great Exaltation" (da long) — the most solemn form of li.

This idea is profound indeed. It shows that li is neither a purely symbolic act nor a purely utilitarian one, but rather the unity of symbol and utility. In sacrifice, the sequence of first setting out plain water and only then serving fine wine is itself an expression of meaning: it expresses that even as we enjoy fine and refined food, we do not forget the fundamental origin of things.

This spirit of "honoring the root" finds parallels in modern life as well. Consider, for instance, a family that, having moved into a new home, still keeps some old object inherited from an ancestor — not because the object has great practical value, but because it carries the memory of "the root." Or consider how, in many cultures, festival celebrations retain certain ancient elements that seem "out of step with the times" — the function of these elements is not practical, but is precisely that of "honoring the root."

4.3 "It Is All One": The Logic of Unity Amid Multiplicity

Throughout Master Xun's detailed description of sacrificial institutions, one phrase recurs again and again — "yi ye" (一也), "it is all one," meaning that the underlying principle is consistent.

Whether it is the exalting of dark wine among the wines, or the setting out of raw fish upon the sacrificial stand, or the placing of the great broth first among the dishes — "it is all one": the underlying principle is the same throughout.

Whether it is that the cup of felicitation is not offered as a pledge-drink, or that the meat of the completed sacrifice is not tasted, or that the food offered thrice to the spirits is not eaten by the living — "it is all one": the underlying principle is the same throughout.

This recurring phrase "it is all one" reveals an important characteristic of li: unity. Although the concrete manifestations of li differ enormously — spanning food and drink, dress, dwelling, music, mourning, sacrifice, and every other domain — the principle behind them is unified. It is much like the unified field theory of physics: although nature exhibits many different forces (gravity, electromagnetism, the strong force, the weak force), physicists believe there may be a single unifying principle behind them all.

The unifying principle that Master Xun reveals here is: honoring the root while drawing near to practical use. All instances of li, however different their outward forms, are enacting this one and the same principle.

V. Pattern and Feeling: The Inner and Outer of "Li"

5.1 The Three Stages of "Li": From Sincere Simplicity, Through Ornamentation, to Delight

In every case of li, it begins in simplicity, comes to completion in pattern, and ends in delight and fulfillment. Thus at its most complete, feeling and pattern are both fully realized; next, feeling and pattern alternate in prevailing; at the lowest, one returns to bare feeling in order to rejoin the Great Unity.

— Xunzi, "Discourse on Ritual Propriety," Passage 16

This passage describes three stages through which li passes, from beginning to completion:

1. "Begins in simplicity" (shi hu zhuo): li begins in sincerity and simplicity. Here, zhuo refers to a state of plainness and sincerity. The starting point of li is genuine inner feeling — awe before Heaven and Earth, longing for one's forebears, care for others. Without this foundation of genuine feeling, li has no soul.
2. "Comes to completion in pattern" (cheng hu wen): mature li takes on ornamented form. Bare feeling requires a proper form through which to be expressed. If a person harbors deep love for their parents but does not know how to express it — knowing neither what to say on a given occasion nor what to do — then that love cannot be fully realized. Wen (pattern, form) is the means by which inner feeling is given outward expression.
3. "Ends in delight and fulfillment" (zhong hu yue jiao): li culminates in delight and free accomplishment. When genuine feeling is fully expressed through proper form, participants experience a deep sense of delight and fulfillment. This delight is not sensory pleasure, but the harmony that arises when everything is exactly as it should be.

5.2 Three Levels of Attainment: "Feeling and Pattern Both Fully Realized" as the Highest

Master Xun goes on to distinguish three levels of attainment:

• The most complete (zhi bei): feeling and pattern both fully realized (qing wen ju jin) — feeling and form are both brought to their fullest expression. Inner sincerity and outward ceremony are fused into a perfect, indivisible whole. This is the highest level of li.
• The next level: feeling and pattern alternately prevailing (qing wen dai sheng) — feeling and form take turns holding the upper hand. Sometimes the force of feeling overwhelms the form; sometimes the discipline of form exceeds the feeling. Though not perfect, a dynamic balance is still maintained between the two.
• The lowest (though still acceptable): returning to bare feeling in order to rejoin the Great Unity (fu qing yi gui da yi) — returning to the most basic genuine feeling, thereby uniting with the "Great Unity" (the most fundamental principle). Even if the outward form is imperfect, so long as genuine feeling remains as its foundation, the basic requirement of li can still be met.

This three-tiered structure reveals a central tension within li: the relationship between inner genuine feeling (qing) and outer form (wen).

5.3 A Response to the Criticisms of Laozi and Zhuangzi

Let us now recall Laozi's famous criticism of li:

"The highest li acts, and meets with no response, and so it rolls up its sleeves and drags people to it by force." (Daodejing, Ch. 38)

Laozi describes a scene in which the one who practices li performs every correct form, yet receives no response. Growing angry, he rolls up his sleeves and begins forcing others to comply. Laozi holds that this coercive form of li is precisely the root of the problem.

If we analyze what Laozi criticizes using Master Xun's own framework, we find that what Laozi criticizes is precisely the state of having "pattern" without "feeling" — outward form alone, with no inner genuine feeling. Within Master Xun's three-tiered structure, this state is worse even than "the lowest" level (which at least retains genuine feeling); it is, rather, a wholly corrupted condition.

In other words: Master Xun and Laozi are in fact in complete agreement that li must have genuine feeling as its foundation. Their disagreement lies not in whether li requires genuine feeling, but in the following:

• Laozi holds that once genuine feeling is codified into fixed outward forms (li), the loss of genuine feeling becomes unavoidable, and it inevitably degenerates into hollow ceremony and coercive regulation. Therefore, rather than establishing li, it is better to return to nature.
• Master Xun, by contrast, holds that although "feeling" (qing) is fundamental, it requires "pattern" (wen) to guide and express it. Feeling without pattern is blind and cannot be realized. The point is not to abolish pattern, but to ensure that pattern is always grounded in feeling — that is, to attain the highest level of "feeling and pattern both fully realized."

Let us illustrate this with a modern analogy: the performance of music requires a score (wen) as well as the performer's emotional investment (qing). If there is only the score without feeling, the performance is mechanical and lifeless. If there is only feeling without the score, the performance is chaotic and lacks structure. The best performance is one that precisely follows the score while investing deep, personal feeling — this is "feeling and pattern both fully realized."

Confucius, too, once expressed a similar view:

"When substance overwhelms pattern, the result is crudeness; when pattern overwhelms substance, the result is superficial cleverness. Only when pattern and substance are perfectly balanced does one have a noble person (junzi)." (Analects 6.18)

When "substance" (zhi — plainness, genuineness) overwhelms "pattern" (wen — refinement, form), the result seems crude. When "pattern" overwhelms "substance," the result seems superficial. Only when "pattern" and "substance" are matched in perfect balance is one a junzi, a noble person.

Here, Confucius's ideal of "pattern and substance in balance" expresses the very same ideal as Master Xun's "feeling and pattern both fully realized."

VI. "Li" Moving in Concert with Heaven and Earth: "Li" within Cosmology

6.1 A Startling Cosmological Proclamation

Within the "Discourse on Ritual Propriety" there is a passage that ranks among the most magnificent cosmological proclamations in the whole of pre-Qin thought:

By li, Heaven and Earth are joined in harmony; by li, the sun and moon shine bright; by li, the four seasons proceed in sequence; by li, the stars move in their courses; by li, the rivers flow; by li, the myriad things flourish. By li, likes and dislikes are moderated; by li, joy and anger are made fitting. Applied below, it brings compliance; applied above, it brings enlightened rule. Amid ten thousand transformations, there is no disorder — but depart from it, and all is lost.

— Xunzi, "Discourse on Ritual Propriety," Passage 17

Rendered into continuous prose: "Heaven and Earth are joined in harmony because of li; the sun and moon shine because of li; the four seasons proceed in order because of li; the stars move in their courses because of li; the rivers flow because of li; the myriad things flourish because of li. Human likes and dislikes are moderated because of li; joy and anger are made fitting because of li. Dwelling below, one is compliant; dwelling above, one is enlightened. Amid ten thousand transformations there is no disorder — depart from li, and everything is lost."

6.2 "Li" as the Principle of Cosmic Order

What is most striking about this passage is that it extends li from the domain of human society to the entire cosmos.

In modern thinking, we are accustomed to distinguishing "natural law" from "social norms." Why does the sun rise$19 Because the earth rotates — this is a law of nature. Why do people form a queue$20 Because of social convention — this is a social norm. These two things seem, to us, entirely different in kind.

But in pre-Qin thought, no such distinction exists. The patterns by which Heaven and Earth operate and the norms of human society are seen as different aspects of one and the same order. The sun follows a fixed course, the four seasons alternate in a fixed rhythm, the rivers flow along fixed channels — the "regularity" and "sense of order" found in these natural phenomena are, in the eyes of the pre-Qin thinkers, the same thing, differently expressed, as the "regularity" and "sense of order" found in a human society where the noble and the base have their ranks and the elder and younger have their proper sequence.

The "Great Treatise" contains a passage that resonates strongly with this:

"Heaven is exalted, Earth is lowly; thus Qian and Kun are fixed. The lowly and the high are set out; thus the noble and the base have their places. Motion and stillness have their constancy; thus the firm and the yielding are distinguished."

— Heaven is exalted, Earth is lowly, and thus Qian and Kun (the pure yang and pure yin) are established. The lowly and the high are arrayed, and thus the positions of noble and base are set. Motion and stillness follow their constant patterns, and thus the firm and the yielding are distinguished.

It is worth noting: the order described in the "Great Treatise" is not "a structure imposed from without," but an order that unfolds of itself — the "are fixed" of "thus Qian and Kun are fixed" and the "have their places" of "the noble and the base have their places" both occur spontaneously, requiring no external intervention.

Master Xun's "Heaven and Earth are joined in harmony, the sun and moon shine bright, the four seasons proceed in sequence" and the "Great Treatise's" "Heaven is exalted, Earth is lowly; thus Qian and Kun are fixed" express one and the same cosmology, cast in identical form. Both hold that there exists, within the cosmos, an inherent order — an order that is not imposed by external force, but is simply the way things themselves operate.

6.3 "Amid Ten Thousand Transformations There Is No Disorder": Preserving Order Within Change

The phrase "amid ten thousand transformations there is no disorder" (wan bian bu luan) distills, in four characters, the core function of li: to maintain order amid boundless change.

These four characters accord entirely with the fundamental spirit of the Book of Changes. The original meaning of yi (易, "change") is precisely "change." The entire system of the Book of Changes — its sixty-four hexagrams, its three hundred and eighty-four lines — describes the various patterns of change. But the Book of Changes does not describe change in order to display disorder; rather, it does so in order to reveal the regularity and order within change.

In the worldview of the "Great Treatise," change is eternal and unstoppable. A thing unwilling to change will first create blockage, until the counter-force accumulates to such a degree that the thing is forced to reverse. Yet such change does not mean disorder; on the contrary, change itself follows regular patterns — "bian" (变, gradual change) and "hua" (化, sudden transformation) alternate with each other, much as water heats gradually and then suddenly turns to steam.

This is exactly the meaning of Master Xun's "amid ten thousand transformations there is no disorder": Heaven and Earth are, at every moment, in a state of change — the seasons succeed one another, the myriad things are born and perish, and human affairs rise and fall — yet so long as li remains as the principle of order, these changes will not degenerate into disorder. Change is the norm, but order, too, is the norm. The two are not in contradiction.

This also resonates with Laozi's thought. Laozi says:

"Reversal is the movement of the Dao; yielding is the function of the Dao." (Daodejing, Ch. 40)

"Reversal" (cyclical return) is the manner in which the Dao moves, and "yielding" (rather than force) is the manner in which the Dao operates. The movement of the Dao is cyclical — proceeding from one extreme toward the other, and then returning from that extreme back again — and this itself is a way of preserving order amid change.

6.4 "To Depart From It Is to Lose All": The Consequence of Deviation

"Depart from it, and all is lost" (er zhi ze sang) — deviate from li, and everything is lost.

Here, "er" (贰) means "to deviate from, to violate." This sentence issues a grave warning: should the order of the cosmos be broken, the consequences would be catastrophic. Were Heaven and Earth no longer joined in harmony, were the sun and moon no longer to alternate, were the four seasons no longer to succeed one another — this would mean the collapse of the entire world. In the same way, if human likes and dislikes lost their moderation, and joy and anger their proper expression, then social order too would collapse.

This is not merely a theoretical deduction; it also reflects a profound conviction held by the people of the pre-Qin era: natural order and social order are mutually interconnected. Disorder among human beings can affect Heaven and Earth (tyranny, for instance, might bring on natural disaster), and conversely, anomalies in Heaven and Earth foreshadow problems among human beings. This conviction was widespread throughout the pre-Qin period — found in Confucian, Daoist, and Yin-Yang thought alike.

VII. The Utmost of the Human Way: "Li" as the Highest Standard of Civilization

7.1 "Establishing the Exalted as the Utmost Standard"

Is not li the utmost indeed! It establishes the exalted as the utmost standard, and nothing under Heaven can add to or take away from it. Root and branch accord with one another; end and beginning correspond to one another. Its pattern, carried to the utmost, makes distinctions; its discernment, carried to the utmost, gives explanation. Those under Heaven who follow it are governed; those who do not are thrown into disorder. Those who follow it are at peace; those who do not are in peril. Those who follow it endure; those who do not perish. The petty person cannot fathom it.

— Xunzi, "Discourse on Ritual Propriety," Passage 18

"Is not li the utmost indeed! It establishes the exalted as the utmost standard, and nothing under Heaven can add anything to it or take anything away. Root and branch (details) accord with each other; end and beginning correspond to each other. Its pattern is carried to the utmost, and yet makes distinctions; its discernment is carried to the utmost, and yet gives explanation. Those under Heaven who follow it are governed, those who do not fall into disorder; those who follow it are at peace, those who do not are in danger; those who follow it endure, those who do not perish — this is a truth that the shallow-minded cannot fathom."

Here Master Xun elevates li to a height that can scarcely be surpassed. He calls li "zhi" (至) — the highest, the ultimate. Nothing under Heaven has the power to add to or subtract from it — not because someone is defending it by force, but because it has already attained a state of perfect balance, such that any addition or subtraction would destroy that balance.

"Root and branch accord with one another; end and beginning correspond to one another" — the root and the branch (the details) are in harmony, and the beginning and the end resonate with each other. This means that li is an organic whole, not a pile of unrelated rules thrown together. Every particular rule points toward the same underlying principle, and every detail remains consistent with the whole.

7.2 The Ink-Line, the Scale, the Compass and Square: Metaphors of Measurement

The principle of li is truly profound … Thus once the ink-line is truly laid down, one cannot be deceived as to crooked or straight; once the scale is truly hung, one cannot be deceived as to light or heavy; once the compass and square are truly set, one cannot be deceived as to round or square; and once the noble person is discerning in li, he cannot be deceived by falsehood and pretense. Thus the ink-line is the utmost of straightness; the scale is the utmost of level balance; the compass and square are the utmost of round and square; and li is the utmost of the human way.

— Xunzi, "Discourse on Ritual Propriety," Passage 19

This passage employs three metaphors drawn from the tools of the craftsman:

• The ink-line (a carpenter's tool for marking straight lines) → the utmost standard of "straightness"
• The scale (for weighing) → the utmost standard of "level balance"
• The compass and square (tools for drawing circles and squares) → the utmost standard of "roundness and squareness"
• Li → the utmost standard of the human way

Just as, once the ink-line is laid down, no one can be deceived about what is crooked or straight; and once the scale is hung, no one can be deceived about what is light or heavy; and once the compass and square are set, no one can be deceived about what is round or square — so too, once a noble person is discerning and clear regarding li, he cannot be deceived by falsehood and pretense.

This metaphor is exceedingly apt. It likens li to a kind of precision measuring instrument, used to gauge whether human conduct is proper. Just as a craftsman needs the ink-line to ensure that timber is straight, and needs the scale to ensure that weight is accurate, so too does a person need li to ensure that conduct is proper.

An important epistemological point is implicit here as well: without a standard, there can be no judgment. Without an ink-line, you cannot judge whether a line is straight — because you have no point of reference. Likewise, without li, you cannot judge whether an action is proper — because you have no standard.

7.3 Refuting the School of Names: The Fog of "Hard and White" and "Sameness and Difference"

In the same passage, Master Xun also criticizes the Warring States School of Names (mingjia) — in particular the debates of thinkers such as Hui Shi and Gongsun Long:

The principle of li is truly profound — the discernments of "hard and white," of "sameness and difference," sink and drown once they enter into it; its principle is truly vast — theories that arbitrarily fabricate institutions, narrow and shallow, are lost once they enter into it; its principle is truly lofty — those who are violent and arrogant, self-indulgent and unrestrained, and who regard contempt for convention as loftiness, fall and collapse once they enter into it.

"The principle of li is truly profound — sophistries such as 'hard and white' and 'sameness and difference' sink and drown the moment they enter into it. Its principle is truly vast — arbitrary theories fabricating institutions, narrow and crude, are lost the moment they enter into it. Its principle is truly lofty — those who are violent, arrogant, self-indulgent, and who regard contempt for the vulgar as a mark of superiority, collapse the moment they enter into it."

"Hard and white" refers to Gongsun Long's debate on the "hard, white stone" — is the "whiteness" and the "hardness" of a white, hard stone one property or two$21 Can they be separated$22 "Sameness and difference" refers to the debates of Hui Shi and others concerning the sameness and difference of things.

Master Xun holds that, however ingenious these intellectual games may be, they are powerless before the great way of li. They are like attempting to use sophistry to deny the straightness of the ink-line or the accuracy of the scale — no matter how many clever logical tricks one plays, the carpenter's line remains straight and the scale's reading remains accurate. In the same way, the standard of the human way established by li cannot be shaken by mere disputation over names.

This reflects a central conviction of Master Xun's — and indeed of the Confucian tradition as a whole: practical wisdom (knowing what is proper, and how to act properly) surpasses purely theoretical wisdom (skillful conceptual analysis and disputation).

7.4 Learning in Order to Become a Sage: The Ultimate Goal of Learning

The conclusion of this passage is exceptionally powerful:

Thus Heaven is the utmost of height; Earth is the utmost of lowness; the boundless is the utmost of breadth; and the sage is the utmost of the Way. Therefore the one who studies studies, from the outset, in order to become a sage — not merely to become a person without a compass to guide them.

"Heaven is the utmost of height; Earth is the utmost of lowness; the boundless is the utmost of breadth; the sage is the utmost of the Way. Therefore the student's learning is, from the outset, meant to make of him a sage — not merely to make of him an ordinary person with rules to follow."

Here Master Xun proposes an exceedingly lofty aim in life: the ultimate goal of learning is to become a sage. Not merely to observe rules (to be a "person with standards"), not merely to avoid error (to be someone who is merely not "without standards") — but to attain the utmost of the Way.

This accords entirely with the spirit of Confucius. Though Confucius modestly said, "As for being a sage or a person of ren, how would I dare to claim that$23" (Analects 7.34), his entire program of teaching points toward the realization of a complete character — proceeding from "learning," through the cultivation of li, to the ultimate attainment of ren.

VIII. Exaltation and Diminution, Amid the Center: The Dynamic Balance of "Li"

8.1 Exaltation and Diminution: Abundance and Simplicity

Li takes wealth and goods as its material, takes noble and base rank as its pattern, takes greater and lesser quantity as its differentiation, and takes exaltation and diminution as its key. Where pattern and reason are elaborate and the use of feeling is spare, this is the exaltation of li. Where pattern and reason are spare and the use of feeling is elaborate, this is the diminution of li. Where pattern, reason, and the use of feeling serve as each other's inner and outer, surface and depth, proceeding together and interwoven — this is the central current of li.

— Xunzi, "Discourse on Ritual Propriety," Passage 20

This passage reveals a crucial feature of li: it is not fixed and unchanging, but possesses a dynamic movement between "exaltation" (long — abundance, solemnity) and "diminution" (sha — simplicity, reduction).

Master Xun uses this pair of concepts — "long sha," exaltation and diminution — to describe the elasticity of li:

• Exaltation (long, abundance and solemnity): elaborate pattern and reason, while the actual demand of feeling is comparatively spare. Consider, for instance, the grand sacrificial ceremonies of the Son of Heaven, extremely elaborate and solemn in form — yet the basic feeling within the hearts of the participants (remembrance of the ancestors) is not, on that account, any more complex. The elaborateness of the form serves to manifest the importance of the occasion.
• Diminution (sha, simplicity and reduction): spare pattern and reason, while the actual demand of feeling is comparatively intense. Consider, for instance, a person who, by chance, encounters a stranger in need of help by the roadside — there is no ceremony to speak of here, yet the inner compassion and goodwill (qing) are intense and direct. The simplicity of the form does not mean that the feeling is thin.
• The central current (zhong liu, the middle form): pattern and feeling blend together, with both form and feeling present, interwoven — this is the most commonly occurring state.

8.2 The Noble Person's Altar, Dwelling, and Court

Thus the noble person, above, attains the fullest exaltation; below, exhausts the fullest diminution; and in between, dwells in the center. Whether walking, striding, galloping, or racing, he does not go beyond this. This is the altar, dwelling, and court of the noble person.

"Thus the noble person is able, above, to reach the state of greatest exaltation, and, below, to achieve the state of greatest simplicity, while dwelling in correct balance in between. Whether walking slowly or moving swiftly, he never goes beyond this range. This is the noble person's altar, dwelling, and court" (that is, the range and domain of his activity).

This passage uses the metaphor of an "altar, dwelling, and court" to describe the space of action available to the noble person. The "altar, dwelling, and court" is a bounded domain — yet within this domain, there is great freedom of movement. The noble person does not rigidly execute one single fixed set of rules; rather, he moves flexibly between the two poles of "exaltation" and "diminution" — sometimes solemn, sometimes simple, and most often somewhere in between.

This flexibility is precisely what distinguishes li from a rigid body of law. Legal statutes are rigid — either you obey them or you violate them. But li is pliant — it offers a range, and within that range, one retains room for judgment and choice.

8.3 A Connection with the Doctrine of the Mean

This idea of "dwelling in the center" is closely related to another core concept of pre-Qin Confucianism — "zhong" (中), the mean, or centrality.

Confucius says: "The virtue embodied in the mean (zhongyong) — is it not the highest of virtues!" (Analects 6.29) — "the mean" (zhongyong), as a virtue, may be called the very highest.

The "zhong" of "zhongyong" is not simply "splitting the difference" or "averaging," but rather finding, in each particular circumstance, the point that is most fitting. This "fitting point" sometimes lies closer to the pole of "exaltation," sometimes closer to the pole of "diminution," and more often lies in between — but it is always determined according to the particular circumstance, never mechanically fixed as the average of the two extremes.

Master Xun's "exaltation and diminution amid the center" and Confucius's "zhongyong" express one and the same wisdom: fitting exactly, neither more nor less. Not fixed at a single point, but flexibly adjusted as circumstances change, while always remaining proper.

This wisdom is also found in the "Great Treatise." The final passage of Section 1.1 of the "Great Treatise" expresses just such an idea: because the order of Heaven and Earth unfolds of itself ("the easy and the simple"), a person can find their own natural place among the myriad things — "taking up a position at the center of Heaven and Earth."

This "center" (zhong) — at once a spatial "centrality" and an existential "proper place" — is exactly the state that li seeks to attain.

8.4 Master Xun Cites the Book of Songs as Evidence

At the close of this passage, Master Xun quotes a line from the Book of Songs:

The Book of Songs says: "Rites and ceremony all meet the proper measure; laughter and talk all find their fitting place." This is what is meant.

"The Book of Songs says: 'The rites and observances entirely accord with proper measure; laughter and conversation entirely find their fitting place.' This is what is meant."

This line comes from "Chuci" in the "Lesser Odes" section of the Book of Songs, depicting a solemn yet joyful sacrificial scene. The participants' ceremonial conduct conforms meticulously to proper measure ("entirely accord with measure"), while their conversation and laughter are likewise perfectly fitting ("entirely find their place"). This is the ideal state of "exaltation and diminution amid the center": outward form (ceremony) and inward feeling (laughter and talk) are both exactly as they should be.

IX. Cutting the Long to Mend the Short: The Way of "Li" in Reconciling Extremes

9.1 The Principle of Cutting the Long and Mending the Short

Li is that which cuts the long and mends the short, diminishes what is excessive, and supplements what is insufficient, giving full expression to the pattern of love and reverence, and nurturing and perfecting the beauty of righteous conduct.

— Xunzi, "Discourse on Ritual Propriety," Passage 24

"Li is that which cuts what is too long and joins on what is too short, diminishes what is in excess and supplements what is lacking, gives full expression to the ornamented form of love and reverence, and nurtures and brings to completion the beauty of conduct in accordance with righteousness."

This passage describes the function of li as a force of regulation and balance. It does not simply add rules, but makes precise adjustments between excess and deficiency.

• Cutting the long, mending the short: whatever is excessive is trimmed away; whatever is deficient is supplemented.
• Diminishing what is excessive, supplementing what is insufficient: reducing what is surplus, adding to what is lacking.

This principle accords closely with Laozi's saying, discussed earlier: "The Way of Heaven diminishes what is excessive and supplements what is insufficient" (Daodejing, Ch. 77). Indeed, this may well be among the most widely shared convictions in pre-Qin thought — Confucians and Daoists alike hold that the fundamental law of the cosmos tends toward balance.

The difference lies here: Laozi holds that "the Way of Heaven" operates automatically, and that human intervention only disrupts this natural balancing force ("the way of humankind is not so: it diminishes what is insufficient in order to enrich what is already excessive" — the tendency of human society runs contrary to nature). Master Xun, by contrast, holds that it is precisely through li that human beings are able to actively organize society according to the principle of "the Way of Heaven" — enabling "diminishing what is excessive, supplementing what is insufficient" to be realized among human beings.

9.2 The Alternating Use of Auspicious and Inauspicious Rites

Master Xun goes on to develop a more concrete argument:

Thus ornamentation and plainness, music and weeping, ease and sorrow — these stand opposed to one another; yet li employs both together, taking each up in turn as the occasion requires. Ornamentation, music, and ease are the means by which one maintains calm and carries out auspicious occasions; plainness, weeping, and sorrow are the means by which one meets difficulty and carries out inauspicious occasions.

"Ornamentation and plainness, music and weeping, ease and sorrow — these are opposites; yet li employs both together, taking each up as the moment requires, alternating which prevails. Ornamentation, music, and ease serve to sustain calm and carry out auspicious matters; plainness, weeping, and sorrow serve to meet peril and carry out inauspicious matters."

Here lies an exceedingly important insight: li does not govern only joyful occasions, nor only sorrowful ones — it governs both together. Life contains fortune and misfortune, joy and grief, favorable turns and adverse ones. Li provides a fitting response for every such circumstance:

• Auspicious occasions (celebration, good fortune) → expressed through ornamentation, music, and ease
• Inauspicious occasions (death, calamity) → expressed through plainness (simple, unadorned objects), weeping, and sorrow

But the crucial point lies in what Master Xun says next:

Thus in establishing ornamentation, li does not go so far as excessive elegance and seductive display; in establishing plainness, it does not go so far as crude neglect and abandonment; in establishing music and ease, it does not go so far as dissolute excess and idle indulgence; in establishing weeping and sorrow, it does not go so far as distress that overwhelms and injures life — this is the central current of li.

"Thus, in establishing ornamentation, li does not go so far as excessive elegance and seductive display; in establishing plainness, it does not go so far as crude neglect and abandonment; in establishing music and ease, it does not go so far as dissolute excess and idle indulgence; in establishing weeping and grief, it does not go so far as distress severe enough to injure life — this is the central current of li."

9.3 "The Central Current of Li": Neither Excess nor Deficiency

This passage once again embodies the core wisdom of li: neither excess nor deficiency.

• Ornamentation (embellishment) is good — but it must not reach the point of "excessive elegance and seductive display."
• Plainness (simplicity) is good — but it must not reach the point of "crude neglect and abandonment."
• Music and joyful ease are good — but they must not reach the point of "dissolute excess and idle indulgence."
• Weeping and sorrow are good — but they must not reach the point of "distress that injures life and health."

This "central current" is not indifferent mediocrity, but rather a high form of wisdom and art. It requires a person, in every particular circumstance, to judge precisely what is "just right" — fully expressing feeling, while never losing control of it.

Let us illustrate this with a modern example: suppose a person has lost a close family member. Li requires that they express sorrow — weeping, wearing plain garments, curtailing social activity. But li also requires that they not grieve to the point of harming themselves — they must not, for this reason, refuse food unto death, must not utterly abandon life. Sorrow is real, and ought to be expressed, but it must have a limit, for the living still have life to continue living.

This balance both respects the authenticity of feeling and protects the continuation of life — this is "the central current of li."

Confucius expressed a similar view. In evaluating his students Zizhang and Zixia, he said: "Going too far is as bad as not going far enough" (Analects 11.16) — excess and deficiency are equally undesirable. To be able to find the fitting point between excess and deficiency is true wisdom.

X. The Double Attainment of Ritual and Righteousness, and the Distinction Between Confucians and Mohists

10.1 "Unifying Oneself with Li and Yi Brings a Double Attainment"

Thus if a person is guided only by concern for bare survival, such a person will surely die; if guided only by concern for profit, such a person will surely come to harm; if guided by idleness, laziness, and cowardice as a form of ease, such a person will surely fall into danger; if guided by the indulgence of feeling and desire as pleasure, such a person will surely be destroyed. Thus if a person unifies himself with li and yi (righteousness), he attains both — but if he unifies himself with bare feeling and nature alone, he loses both.

— Xunzi, "Discourse on Ritual Propriety," Passage 4

"If a person seeks only bare survival, such a person will surely die; if a person seeks only profit, such a person will surely come to harm; if a person takes idleness, laziness, and cowardice as ease, such a person will surely fall into danger; if a person takes the indulgence of desire and feeling as pleasure, such a person will surely be destroyed. Thus, if a person unifies himself with li and yi, he attains both things at once (life and desire); if he unifies himself with bare feeling and nature (unrefined, uncultivated natural desire), he loses both."

This is a profound piece of paradoxical reasoning:

• One who pursues survival alone will, in fact, die.
• One who pursues profit alone will, in fact, come to harm.
• One who pursues ease alone will, in fact, fall into danger.
• One who pursues sensory pleasure alone will, in fact, be destroyed.

Why is this$1 Because pursuing any single goal without regard for anything else causes one's conduct to lose all restraint, ultimately leading to the very opposite of that goal. A person who thinks only of survival, heedless of righteousness, might betray a companion out of fear of death, and end up abandoned or even killed by others. A person who thinks only of profit, without regard for good faith, may gain in the short term, but will in the long run become isolated through loss of trust.

By contrast, if a person takes "li and yi" as the guiding standard of their conduct — even if this means, on occasion, foregoing immediate advantage or enduring temporary inconvenience — then, in the long run, that person's life and desires will both be better secured. This is because "li and yi" help that person to establish good cooperative relationships with others, allowing them to gain respect and support within the group, and thereby to enjoy a life both safer and richer.

This is the meaning of "double attainment": one who follows "li and yi" both preserves their life and satisfies reasonable desire. Whereas one who indulges "bare feeling and nature" (unrefined, natural desire) loses both — losing the security of life, while desire, too, cannot be sustainably satisfied.

10.2 The Distinction Between Confucians and Mohists

Master Xun then extends this argument directly to one of the most important disputes in pre-Qin intellectual history — the distinction between Confucians and Mohists:

Thus the Confucians are those who cause people to attain both; the Mohists are those who cause people to lose both. This is the distinction between Confucians and Mohists.

"Thus the Confucians (the Ru school) are those who bring about 'double attainment' for people; the Mohists (the Mo school) are those who bring about 'double loss' — this is the fundamental distinction between Confucians and Mohists."

This judgment is, admittedly, unfair to the Mohists — Mozi's own purpose, of course, was likewise to give the people under Heaven a better life. But Master Xun's criticism points to an inherent tension within Mohist thought:

Mozi advocated "moderation in expenditure," "moderation in funerals," and "condemnation of music" — cutting all unnecessary consumption, simplifying funeral rites, and opposing the social function of music and art. Mozi held that such "extravagant" activities (elaborate ceremony, lavish funerals, moving music) were a waste of social resources, consuming wealth and labor that could otherwise be used to "benefit the people."

Master Xun's rebuttal is this: Mozi's "moderation in expenditure" appears reasonable, but it neglects people's emotional and spiritual needs. If a society attends only to material efficiency, while wholly disregarding people's need for beauty, for a sense of ceremony, for spiritual expression, then that society, even if materially sufficient, will be spiritually impoverished. And spiritual impoverishment will, in the end, corrode the very fabric of social order — for human beings are not merely animals in need of food and shelter, but beings in need of meaning and belonging.

From the standpoint of li: the trouble with Mohism is that it sees only "nurture" (satisfying material needs) while neglecting "distinction" (bie — satisfying spiritual needs and maintaining social order through differentiated ceremony). Confucian li, by contrast, is the unity of "nurture" and "distinction" — satisfying material needs ("the two sustaining and increasing each other") while also satisfying spiritual needs ("giving full expression to the pattern of love and reverence").

10.3 A Comparison with Daoism: A Different Path to "Double Attainment"

Interestingly, although Daoism, too, criticizes Confucian li, the ideal state of Daoism is, in its own way, also a kind of "double attainment" — a state of natural harmony in which both life and desire can be satisfied. Laozi describes an ideal society of "a small state with few people":

"Let their food be sweet, their clothing beautiful, their dwelling peaceful, their customs a joy. Though neighboring states are within sight of one another, and the sound of cocks and dogs is heard between them, the people grow old and die without ever visiting one another." (Daodejing, Ch. 80)

— people delight in fine food, wear fitting clothes, dwell peacefully in comfortable homes, and take joy in their own customs. Is this not, too, a kind of "double attainment"$2

The difference lies in the path taken:

• Confucianism (Master Xun) holds that this "double attainment" must be achieved through "li and yi" — humanly constructed institutions and norms.
• Daoism (Laozi) holds that this "double attainment" already existed naturally, before human institutions ever arose — and that li, far from helping, disrupts this natural harmony.

The root of this disagreement lies in differing judgments about human nature. Master Xun holds that human nature tends toward contention and disorder (nature is "bad"), and therefore requires the external constraint of li. Laozi implicitly holds that human nature (before being contaminated by civilization) is harmonious, and that external institutions instead distort this natural disposition.

XI. The Union of Nature and Conscious Activity: The Great Unification of the Natural and the Humanly Made

11.1 Nature (Xing) and Conscious Activity (Wei)

Thus it is said: nature (xing) is the original, raw material; conscious activity (wei, the cultivated exercise of li and yi) is the abundant flourishing of pattern and reason. Without nature, conscious activity would have nothing to work upon; without conscious activity, nature could not beautify itself. When nature and conscious activity are united, only then is the name of "sage" accomplished, and the achievement of unifying all under Heaven brought to completion.

— Xunzi, "Discourse on Ritual Propriety," Passage 26

"Thus it is said: nature (xing) is the original material, the plain and unadorned foundation; conscious activity (wei — the cultivated practice of li and yi) is the abundant flourishing of ornamented pattern. Without 'nature,' 'conscious activity' would have nothing upon which to act — just as, without raw material, even the most skilled craftsman could produce nothing. Without 'conscious activity,' 'nature' cannot beautify itself — just as raw material, however present, remains forever a rough piece of wood or an unworked stone without the craftsman's labor upon it."

This passage forms the summation of Master Xun's entire system of thought. Let us examine it closely:

Xing (性, "nature"): a person's natural disposition, their original material. Master Xun, in another chapter (the "Human Nature Is Bad" chapter), discusses his understanding of "nature" in detail: human nature includes basic desires such as the desire to eat when hungry, to be clothed when cold, and to rest when weary, along with natural inclinations such as seeking benefit and avoiding harm, envy, and greed. These inclinations are not, in themselves, "bad" — they are the basic condition of being human — but if left unguided, they lead to contention and disorder.

Wei (伪, "conscious activity"): deliberate human effort, cultural creation. Here, wei does not mean "falsehood" or "pretense." In the pre-Qin context, wei means "that which is humanly made" — whatever is not natural, but arises through human thought and effort, is wei. Li is the most important instance of wei — it does not exist ready-made in nature but is a creation of human wisdom.

11.2 The Metaphor of Heaven and Earth

Master Xun goes on to use a grand cosmological metaphor to explain the relation between "nature" and "conscious activity":

Thus it is said: when Heaven and Earth unite, the myriad things are born; when yin and yang meet, transformation arises; when nature and conscious activity unite, all under Heaven is governed.

"When Heaven and Earth unite in harmony, the myriad things are born. When yin and yang meet, transformation begins. When nature and conscious activity unite, all under Heaven is governed."

These three parallel clauses form an analogical chain running from cosmos to human affairs:

This analogy is exquisitely crafted. It implies that, just as Heaven and Earth must unite for the myriad things to be born, and just as yin and yang must meet for transformation to arise, so too must a person's inborn nature and their humanly cultivated culture (li) unite in order to bring about a well-governed society.

A profound philosophical insight lies here: "nature" and "conscious activity" are not opposites, but complements — just like Heaven and Earth, yin and yang. Without Heaven, Earth would have no meaning; without Earth, Heaven would have no meaning. Without yin, there would be no transformation for yang; without yang, no transformation for yin. In just the same way, without "nature," there is no foundation for "conscious activity"; without "conscious activity," there is no perfection of "nature."

This idea resonates deeply with the cosmology of the "Great Treatise." The core notion of the "Great Treatise" is precisely the opposition of complements — Heaven and Earth, yin and yang, the firm and the yielding, motion and stillness — these opposing pairs do not negate one another, but rather bring one another to completion. The famous saying of the "Great Treatise," "one yin and one yang — this is called the Dao," in which yin and yang alternate one after another, is the most concentrated expression of this complementary way of thinking. Master Xun's "the union of nature and conscious activity" applies this same complementary thinking to the theory of human nature and to social theory.

11.3 Heaven Can Give Birth to Things, But Cannot Distinguish Them

Heaven can give birth to things, but cannot distinguish them; Earth can bear human beings, but cannot govern them. All the beings born within the cosmos, among the multitude of living things and of humankind, must await the sage before they can be properly ordered.

"Heaven can give birth to the myriad things, yet cannot distinguish among them. Earth can bear the whole of humanity, yet cannot govern them. Among the multitude of beings within the cosmos, and among the members of humankind, only the sage can bring order and arrangement."

This statement is of great importance. It clearly points to the limits of nature (Heaven and Earth): nature can produce the myriad things, but it cannot organize them; nature can bring forth humanity, but it cannot govern humanity.

This means that relying on nature ("nature," xing) alone is insufficient. The order of human society does not arise automatically — it requires the sage (a person possessed of the highest wisdom) to create li, to carry out fen (distinguishing and arranging).

This is also the most fundamental point of divergence between Master Xun and the Daoists. Daoism (Laozi and Zhuangzi in particular) tends to hold that the order of nature is self-sufficient — that human intervention can only disrupt it. Master Xun explicitly denies this: however great the order of nature may be, it is insufficient for the governance of human society. Human society requires an order that transcends nature — and this is li.

But note well: Master Xun does not say that li can exist apart from nature. Quite the contrary — as discussed earlier, li takes the order of Heaven and Earth as its model ("Heaven and Earth are joined in harmony," "establishing the exalted as the utmost standard"). Li is not a force set against nature, but rather the extension and perfection, within human society, of natural order. Nature provides the model and the raw material ("nature"); on this foundation, the sage creates li ("conscious activity") — and only when the two are united can all under Heaven be well governed.

11.4 Citing the Book of Songs as Evidence

At the close of this passage, Master Xun cites the Book of Songs:

The Book of Songs says: "He soothed and pacified the hundred spirits, extending even to the rivers and the lofty mountains." This is what is meant.

"The Book of Songs says: 'soothing and pacifying the hundred spirits, extending even to the rivers and the lofty mountains.'"

This line comes from "Shi Mai" in the "Hymns of Zhou" section of the Book of Songs, describing the scene of the Zhou king making a circuit of the realm, sacrificing to the mountains, rivers, and hundred spirits. Here, the human act of governance (sacrifice, pacification) extends into the natural world — rivers and mountains, too, are drawn within the scope of human order. This resonates precisely with Master Xun's thought of "the union of nature and conscious activity": human cultural activity does not stand opposed to nature, but rather blends with it. Through li (here, in the form of sacrificial ritual), humanity establishes a harmonious relationship with the natural world.

XII. "Li" and the Dao: A Deep Dialogue Between the Two Great Pre-Qin Traditions

12.1 A Surface-Level Opposition

In the history of pre-Qin thought, the attitudes of Confucianism and Daoism toward li appear starkly opposed:

Confucianism (represented by Confucius and Master Xun): affirms li to the highest degree, holding it to be the cornerstone of civilization, the utmost of the human way.

Daoism (represented by Laozi and Zhuangzi): takes a critical stance toward li, holding it to be a sign of the decline of civilization, a distortion of natural disposition.

Laozi's criticism in Chapter 38 of the Daodejing is the most famous:

"The highest virtue does not strive to be virtuous, and therefore truly has virtue; the lowest virtue never lets go of being virtuous, and therefore lacks true virtue. The highest virtue acts through non-action, and has no ulterior purpose in acting; the lowest virtue acts, and has an ulterior purpose in acting. The highest benevolence acts, and has no ulterior purpose in acting; the highest righteousness acts, and has an ulterior purpose in acting. The highest li acts, and meets with no response, and so it rolls up its sleeves and drags people to it by force. Thus, when the Dao is lost, only then is there virtue; when virtue is lost, only then is there benevolence; when benevolence is lost, only then is there righteousness; when righteousness is lost, only then is there li. Now li is the thinning of loyalty and good faith, and the beginning of disorder."

This is a descending sequence:

Dao → Virtue → Benevolence → Righteousness → Li

Each step downward marks the loss of some inner quality. The "Dao" is the most fundamental, the most natural state. Once the "Dao" is lost, people require "virtue" to compensate. Once "virtue," too, is lost, "benevolence" is required. And so on, until finally, when even "righteousness" no longer suffices, "li" becomes necessary. In Laozi's view, then, li is the last resort, and also the most superficial — it means that loyalty and good faith have already grown extremely thin, and that disorder is about to begin.

Zhuangzi's criticism is expressed in still more vivid imagery:

"Fish forget one another in the rivers and lakes; human beings forget one another in the arts of the Dao." (Zhuangzi, "The Great and Venerable Teacher")

Fish swim freely, each in their own way, within the rivers and lakes, "forgetting" one another — such "forgetting" is not indifference, but arises because the environment is good, requiring no deliberate attention to one another. In the same way, were people to live entirely within the Dao, there would be no need whatsoever for li to sustain their relationships — people would naturally and spontaneously live in harmony.

"Li is what the vulgar world produces; the genuine (zhen) is what is received from Heaven, spontaneous and unalterable. Thus the sage takes Heaven as his model and prizes the genuine, and is not bound by the vulgar world." (Zhuangzi, "The Old Fisherman")

Li is merely a product of worldly convention; "the genuine" (authenticity, naturalness) is what is bestowed by Heaven, and cannot be altered. The sage takes Heaven as his model and prizes what is genuine, and is not confined by worldly convention.

12.2 A Deeper Consensus

Yet if we move past this surface-level opposition and probe into the core of the two traditions, we find some surprising points of consensus.

First point of consensus: continuity between Heaven and humanity

Both Confucianism and Daoism hold that there exists a profound connection between natural order (the Way of Heaven) and human conduct.

• Master Xun: "By li, Heaven and Earth are joined in harmony; by li, the sun and moon shine bright; by li, the four seasons proceed in sequence; by li, the stars move in their courses" — the operation of Heaven and Earth and the myriad things embodies the principle of li.
• Laozi: "Humanity models itself on Earth; Earth models itself on Heaven; Heaven models itself on the Dao; the Dao models itself on what is spontaneously so" (Ch. 25) — human beings ought to model themselves on the way Heaven and Earth operate.

Both hold that humanity ought to learn from nature. The disagreement lies in what is to be learned: Master Xun holds that what is learned from nature is order and differentiation ("the noble and the base have their places," "the firm and the yielding are distinguished"); Laozi holds that what is learned is spontaneity, accomplishment through non-action.

Second point of consensus: the balancing principle of "going too far is as bad as not going far enough"

Master Xun: "cutting the long to mend the short, diminishing what is excessive, and supplementing what is insufficient" Laozi: "the Way of Heaven diminishes what is excessive and supplements what is insufficient"

Both, quite independently, hold that the best state is one of balance — that both excess and deficiency are harmful.

Third point of consensus: opposition to hollow formalism

This point is perhaps the most surprising. Although Master Xun holds li in the very highest regard, he by no means endorses a li that possesses form without substance. He explicitly identifies "feeling and pattern both fully realized" as the highest state, and "returning to bare feeling in order to rejoin the Great Unity" as the minimum baseline — under any circumstance, genuine feeling remains an indispensable foundation of li.

What Laozi criticizes — "the highest li acts, and meets with no response, and so it rolls up its sleeves and drags people to it by force," that is, li coercively imposed, with no inner assent — is likewise rejected within Master Xun's own framework. Master Xun would say: that is not true li at all; that is li corrupted.

Confucius, too, states this explicitly: "When we speak of li, li, do we simply mean jade and silk$3 When we speak of music, music, do we simply mean bells and drums$4" (Analects 17.11) — "If you constantly speak of 'li, li,' do you mean nothing more than offerings of jade and silk$5 If you constantly speak of 'music, music,' do you mean nothing more than bells and drums$6"

Confucius's meaning is clear: if you believe that li consists merely in outward forms and objects, then you have not understood li at all.

Fourth point of consensus: reverence for the "unhewn"

In his discourse on sacrifice, Master Xun repeatedly stresses "honoring the root" — using dark wine (plain water), raw fish, and the great broth (plain, unseasoned soup) to express reverence for the original condition of things. This reverence for "simplicity" and "the original" resonates deeply with Laozi's exaltation of "pu" (朴, the unhewn log, the original, unworked condition of a thing).

Laozi says: "Manifest plainness and hold fast to the unhewn; lessen self-interest and diminish desire" (Daodejing, Ch. 19) — manifest what is plain, embrace what is unhewn.

Although Master Xun's "honoring the root" operates within the framework of li (setting out plain water first, before proceeding to fine wine), the spirit it expresses — never forgetting the fundamental origin of things — accords with Laozi's "embracing the unhewn."

12.3 The Fundamental Point of Divergence: The Value of the Humanly Made (Wei)

Despite the points of consensus outlined above, Confucianism and Daoism differ irreconcilably on one fundamental question: is humanly made cultural creation ("conscious activity," wei) necessary at all$7

Master Xun's position is unambiguous: "without conscious activity, nature cannot beautify itself" — without human cultivation, human nature cannot perfect itself. Heaven and Earth can give birth to the myriad things, but cannot distinguish and organize them; human nature supplies the raw material, but this material requires human labor upon it before it can become a fine work. Li is the most essential tool in this process of shaping.

The position of Laozi and Zhuangzi is the opposite. Laozi says: "When the great Dao was abandoned, only then did benevolence and righteousness appear" (Ch. 18) — it is precisely because the great Dao was abandoned that these humanly made concepts of "benevolence and righteousness" came to appear. The implication is: had the great Dao never been abandoned, there would have been no need for "benevolence and righteousness" at all, still less for li.

Zhuangzi tells a famous parable: Hundun (Chaos) was a gentle and kindly spirit-lord who had no seven openings (eyes, ears, mouth, and nose). Other spirit-lords, wishing to repay his kindness, bored one opening into him each day. On the seventh day, the seven openings were complete — and Hundun died. (Zhuangzi, "Fit for Emperors and Kings")

The moral of this parable is: humanly wrought "improvement" (boring openings into Hundun, just as li is instituted for humankind) may in fact destroy the natural disposition of a thing. Hundun had no need of the seven openings in order to exist perfectly well — just as, perhaps, human beings might live perfectly well without li.

This is a profound philosophical dispute, and one not easily resolved once and for all. In this dispute there is no simple right or wrong — each side sees an important facet of the problem.

What Master Xun sees is this: in a world of limited resources and unlimited desire, without institutional constraint and guidance (li), human society will inevitably fall into contention and disorder. Though li is humanly made, it is what makes social cooperation possible, and what allows both individual and collective to benefit.

What Laozi and Zhuangzi see is this: any humanly made institution carries the risk of becoming alienated from its purpose — li, originally created to promote harmony, may turn into an instrument of oppression, a mask of hypocrisy, or a rigid dogma. The more complex the institution, the greater the risk of such alienation.

Perhaps the best attitude is this: to acknowledge the necessity of li (human society genuinely requires some form of order), while remaining ever watchful of the risk that li might become alienated from its purpose (constantly examining whether li still retains its connection to "feeling" and to "the Dao"). And this is precisely the state that Master Xun's ideal of "feeling and pattern both fully realized" seeks to attain.

XIII. "Li" and the Book of Changes: The Unchanging Order Amid Change

13.1 The Deep Resonance Between the "Great Treatise" and the "Discourse on Ritual Propriety"

Although the "Great Treatise" and Master Xun's "Discourse on Ritual Propriety" belong to different textual traditions (the former to the system of the Book of Changes, the latter to the Confucian tradition of ritual learning), they resonate remarkably in their cosmology and their conception of order.

We have already noted a parallel in language. Let us now draw a more systematic comparison:

"Great Treatise," Section 1.1:

"Heaven is exalted, Earth is lowly; thus Qian and Kun are fixed. The lowly and the high are set out; thus the noble and the base have their places. Motion and stillness have their constancy; thus the firm and the yielding are distinguished."

"Discourse on Ritual Propriety," Passage 17:

"By li, Heaven and Earth are joined in harmony; by li, the sun and moon shine bright; by li, the four seasons proceed in sequence; by li, the stars move in their courses; by li, the rivers flow; by li, the myriad things flourish."

Both passages describe one and the same cosmic order — Heaven exalted and Earth lowly, motion and stillness following their constancy, the firm and the yielding distinguished. Yet their angles of approach differ:

• The "Great Treatise" describes how this order unfolds of itself — "Qian and Kun are fixed," "the noble and the base have their places," "the firm and the yielding are distinguished" — all of these words, "fixed," "have their places," "distinguished," occur spontaneously, requiring no external intervention.
• Master Xun describes the role that "li" plays within this order — Heaven and Earth are joined in harmony because of li; the sun and moon shine bright because of li.

These two descriptions are not in conflict, but complementary. The "Great Treatise" presents the natural face of order (it unfolds of itself); Master Xun presents the humanly wrought face of order (human beings must participate in this order through li). Taken together, they yield a complete picture: the order of the cosmos is natural, but the way human beings participate in and sustain this order is cultural (li).

13.2 The Unity of Change and Order

"Change" (yi) is the most central theme of the "Great Treatise." In the worldview of the "Great Treatise," everything is in ceaseless change — a thing unwilling to change will first create blockage, until it is forced to reverse. Everything is always changing.

Yet "change" is not the same as "disorder." The change described in the "Great Treatise" is regular change — the alternation of yin and yang ("one yin and one yang — this is called the Dao"), the alternation of gradual change and sudden transformation ("bian" and "hua"), cyclical return (end and beginning). The pattern of change is itself order.

Master Xun's "amid ten thousand transformations, there is no disorder" (Passage 17) speaks of exactly the same thing: amid boundless change, if li is present as an organizing principle, change will not degenerate into disorder.

This also relates to the concept of the "pivot" (ji, 幾/機) in the "Great Treatise." Change occurs at critical turning points — the old comes to an end and the new begins; one door closes and another opens. Within the context of li, such a "pivot" is precisely the moment of transition from one ceremonial state to another — from auspicious rites to inauspicious ones, from exaltation to diminution, from pattern to feeling. And the wisdom of li lies precisely in how these transitions are properly grasped.

13.3 The Concept of "Position"

Another core concept shared by the "Great Treatise" and the "Discourse on Ritual Propriety" is "wei" (位) — position.

In the "Great Treatise," "position" refers to the place occupied by a hexagram line within the structure of the six lines. The judgment of fortune or misfortune for any given line depends, to a great extent, on the "position" it occupies — is it a yang position or a yin position$8 Is it central or peripheral$9 Is it the first line (just beginning, weak in force) or the sixth line (already past the peak)$10

In the "Discourse on Ritual Propriety," "position" refers to a person's place within the social order. "The noble and the base have their ranks, the elder and younger have their proper sequence" — each person has their own "position," and one important function of li is to let each person know and rest content in their own "position."

As the "Great Treatise" states, "the lowly and the high are set out; thus the noble and the base have their places" — just as the low and high places are arrayed across the earth, so too do all things, within change (yi), receive their proper positions.

This idea of "each finding its proper position" describes the structure of hexagram lines in the "Great Treatise," and describes social order in the "Discourse on Ritual Propriety." Yet both point toward the same underlying principle: a proper position brings harmony; a misplaced position brings disorder.

13.4 "De" (Virtue) as a Bridge

"De" (德, virtue) is another key concept bridging the "Great Treatise" and the "Discourse on Ritual Propriety." "De" carries two meanings at once — power (capability, efficacy) and virtue (fidelity to one's true nature) — it is the unity of "the power to act rightly" and "a character faithful to its own nature."

In the "Great Treatise," "de" appears chiefly in descriptions of the qualities of the sage — the sage is able to penetrate the Way of Heaven and Earth and to apply the principle of change precisely because he possesses profound "de."

In Master Xun's "Discourse on Ritual Propriety," "de" is not the direct subject of discussion, but it is closely bound up with li. Master Xun says, "one whose accumulation is deep has bounty that flows broadly" (Passage 8) — here, "deep accumulation" is, in essence, "the accumulation of virtue." A person (or a lineage, or a state) that accumulates deep virtue sees its bounty flow forth across a broader range.

In the Analects, Confucius treats "de" and "li" as mutually reinforcing: "Guide them with virtue, keep them in line with li, and they will have a sense of shame and moreover will govern themselves" (2.3) — guided by "de" and ordered by "li," the people acquire a sense of shame and spontaneously return to the proper path. "De" supplies the inner quality and motive force; "li" supplies the outer form and order. Neither can do without the other.

XIV. A Concluding Synthesis: "Li" as Living Wisdom

14.1 "Li" Is Not a Dead Set of Rules

Through the discussion above, we can see that the li understood by the pre-Qin Confucians (Master Xun above all) is by no means a rigid rulebook. It is a living system, possessing the following characteristics:

1. It is rooted: li is not invented out of nothing; it takes the natural order of Heaven and Earth as its model ("Heaven and Earth are joined in harmony, the sun and moon shine bright"), and takes a person's genuine feeling as its foundation ("begins in simplicity").
2. It is elastic: li can flexibly adjust between "exaltation" and "diminution," adapting to different occasions and needs ("above, attains the fullest exaltation; below, exhausts the fullest diminution; and in between, dwells in the center").
3. It is balancing: the core function of li is "cutting the long to mend the short, diminishing what is excessive, and supplementing what is insufficient" — maintaining dynamic balance.
4. It is unified: though the concrete rules of li differ enormously, they all point toward one and the same underlying principle — "it is all one," "returning to the Great Unity."
5. It is developmental: li is the union of "nature" and "conscious activity" — it both respects a person's natural disposition and perfects it through deliberate human effort.

14.2 The Fundamental Question That "Li" Answers

Why does li occupy such a central place in pre-Qin thought$11 Because it answers the most fundamental question of human civilization:

How can human beings live together as a group$12

Human beings are not solitary creatures. A person must cooperate with others in order to survive. But cooperation requires order — who does what$13 Who possesses what$14 How is it to be distributed$15 How is respect and care to be expressed$16 How is conflict to be handled$17 How is one to face life and death$18

Li is the most comprehensive answer that the pre-Qin thinkers offered to these questions. It does not merely say, "you should do this" or "you should not do that" — it provides a complete worldview (how the order of Heaven and Earth operates), a view of human nature (what human desire and feeling consist of), a view of society (how a population ought to be organized), and a methodology (how all of this is to be realized through concrete ritual and conduct).

14.3 The Contemporary Significance of "Li"

Although this article confines itself strictly to pre-Qin sources, the question that li addresses — how to live properly within a group — is a perennial one. The insights of the pre-Qin thinkers remain deeply instructive even today, more than two thousand years later:

• Master Xun's "the two sustaining and increasing each other" reminds us: a good institution does not suppress desire, but allows both desire and resources to grow.
• The ideal of "feeling and pattern both fully realized" reminds us: form cannot be divorced from content, nor can content exist without form.
• "Cutting the long to mend the short, diminishing what is excessive, supplementing what is insufficient" reminds us: balance is an eternal task.
• "The union of nature and conscious activity" reminds us: nature and culture are not opposites, but complements.
• "Amid ten thousand transformations, there is no disorder" reminds us: to seek order within change, and to allow change within order.

And the criticisms of Laozi and Zhuangzi likewise remind us, at every turn, that any institution — however reasonable and well-intentioned it may have been at its founding — carries the risk of degenerating into hollow form or an instrument of oppression. To remain vigilant against this risk, to keep li always connected to "feeling" and to "the Dao," never allowing it to become a rootless, empty shell — this may be one of the most important lessons that pre-Qin thought has left us.

14.4 "Li" and "Lü": From Knowing to Doing

It is worth noting that "li" (礼) and "lü" (履) were, in ancient pronunciation, extremely close, and the two are profoundly connected. The original meaning of "lü" is to walk, to tread, to travel a road. Li was, from the very outset, never merely theoretical knowledge, but rather wisdom in practice — not "knowing" what is proper, but doing what is proper.

As Master Xun says: "To be able to deliberate, to be able to hold fast, and to add to this a love of the good — such a one is a sage." Deliberation, steadfastness, and love — this, perhaps, is what li asks of us at the deepest level.

This article is developed on the basis of Passages 1, 4, 5, 6, 8, 10, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 24, and 26 of Master Xun's "Discourse on Ritual Propriety," drawing broadly on the Analects, the Mencius, the Daodejing, the Zhuangzi, the "Great Treatise," the Book of Songs, and other pre-Qin texts.

Xuanji Editorial Board