Part One: The Virtue of Ghosts and Spirits — The Manifestation of the Dao-Substance Within the Subtle

Chapter One: An Inquiry into the Name and Meaning of "Ghosts and Spirits"

Section 1: The Archaic Semantics of "Ghost" and "Spirit"

To interpret the chapter on "the virtue of ghosts and spirits," one must first clarify the meaning of guishen. In pre-Qin texts, the characters gui (ghost) and shen (spirit) carry exceedingly broad meanings and are used in highly complex ways. Without careful discrimination, later vulgar interpretations may intrude and the original pre-Qin intent will be lost.

The character gui already appears in oracle bone inscriptions. The Shuowen Jiezi, though a later work, drew largely on pre-Qin ancient traditions. It states: "Gui: that to which a person returns (gui 归) is called gui." This gloss on "returning" carries deep significance. The Liji (Record of Rites), "Meaning of Sacrifices" (Jiyi) chapter, says: "All living things must die, and the dead must return to the earth — this is called gui." What is meant by gui, in its earliest sense, is the destination to which the vital essence of the deceased returns. In the Zuozhuan, Duke Zhao year 7, Zichan's discourse on ghosts and spirits is a supremely important text:

"When a person is first born, the transforming process produces the po (corporeal soul). Once the po is formed, the yang aspect is called the hun (ethereal soul). Through the use of things and abundant vital essence, the hun and po grow strong. Thus there comes about refined clarity, reaching even to spiritual illumination. When a common man or woman dies by violence, their hun and po can still attach to people, becoming wanton apparitions."

This discourse by Zichan is one of the most important texts on ghosts and spirits in the pre-Qin period. He explains guishen through hun and po, and distinguishes po and hun by yin and yang. It is clear that in the Spring and Autumn period, the original meaning of gui was related to transformations of a person's vital essence. When a person dies, the yin-qi descends — this is called gui; the yang-qi rises — this is called shen. The waxing and waning, gathering and dispersing of these two kinds of qi is the original meaning of guishen.

The character shen is even more complex. In the oracle bone divination inscriptions, we find the character di (Lord) and the embryonic form of shen. In high antiquity, "spirits" were classified into three great categories: celestial spirits, terrestrial spirits, and human ghosts. The Zhouli (Rites of Zhou), "Grand Officiant" (Da Zongbo), states:

"The office of the Grand Officiant is to preside over the rites for the celestial spirits, human ghosts, and terrestrial spirits of the state."

And further:

"With the yin sacrifice, sacrifice is made to the Supreme Lord of the Vast Heavens; with the burning of actual offerings, to the sun, moon, and stars; with the you fire offering, to the Supervisors of the Center, of Destiny, the Master of Winds, and the Master of Rain. With blood sacrifice, sacrifice is made to the altars of soil and grain, the Five Sacrifices, and the Five Peaks; by burying and sinking offerings, to mountains, forests, rivers, and marshes; by dismemberment, to the spirits of the four quarters. With libation and presentation offerings, service is given to former kings; with food offerings, to former kings; with spring sacrifice, to former kings."

These three categories — celestial spirits honored with the yin sacrifice, terrestrial spirits with blood sacrifice, human ghosts with libation and food offerings — each have their own rites. Yet though the three are distinguished, they are collectively called guishen.

Returning to the Zhongyong's phrase "the virtue of ghosts and spirits": to what, exactly, does guishen refer$2 Does it mean the hun and po of the dead$3 The divine spirits of Heaven and Earth$4 Or the coming and going, the contraction and extension, of yin and yang qi$5 This question is the key to understanding the chapter.

Section 2: The Divergent Views of the Pre-Qin Masters on "Ghosts and Spirits"

The pre-Qin masters each had their own position on ghosts and spirits.

The attitude of the Master (Confucius):

The Lunyu (Analects), "Yong Ye" chapter: "Devote yourself to what is right for the people, and while respecting ghosts and spirits, keep them at a distance — this may be called wisdom."

Lunyu, "Shu Er" chapter: "The Master did not speak of anomalies, feats of strength, disorders, or spirits."

Lunyu, "Xian Jin" chapter: "Zilu asked about serving ghosts and spirits. The Master said: 'While you cannot yet serve the living, how can you serve the dead$6' 'May I ask about death$7' 'While you do not yet understand life, how can you understand death$8'"

Lunyu, "Ba Yi" chapter: "Sacrifice as though they were present; sacrifice to the spirits as though the spirits were present. The Master said: 'If I do not participate in the sacrifice, it is as if there were no sacrifice.'"

From these passages, we can see several distinctive features of the Master's stance on ghosts and spirits. First, he does not deny their existence but treats them with "reverence." Second, he does not speak much of such matters — "the Master did not speak of" them not because there are no spirits, but because he did not make them the core of his moral instruction. Third, he emphasizes the attitude of reverential sincerity in "sacrificing as though they were present," making the subjective sincerity of one's heart the substance of sacrifice. Fourth, he links spiritual matters with human affairs, never discussing spirits apart from human concerns.

This attitude is precisely what underlies the Zhongyong's chapter on "the virtue of ghosts and spirits." The Zhongyong discusses spirits not in order to determine whether they exist or not, but to reveal that they are "virtue" (de). What is de$9 De means "what is attained" — efficacy, moral potency. "The virtue of ghosts and spirits" speaks of the efficacy that spirits manifest, the moral significance they display. This is a further development of the Master's spirit of "sacrificing as though they were present."

The attitude of Mozi:

Mozi vigorously advocated "making spirits manifest." The Mozi, "Clarifying Ghosts" (Minggui) chapter:

"The sage kings of antiquity took ghosts and spirits seriously, and their service to them was generous indeed. Fearing also that later generations might not know this, they wrote it on bamboo and silk to bequeath to posterity. Afraid that these would rot and be consumed, leaving posterity unable to record them, they engraved the records upon bronze vessels and stone, adding weight to them."

Mozi's purpose in discussing spirits was to clarify the "will of Heaven." Ghosts and spirits possess the power to reward the good and punish the wicked — this is the core claim of Mozi's "clarifying ghosts." The evidence he adduces consists entirely of stories of former kings and historical legends, such as the tale of Du Bo shooting King Xuan of Zhou. This differs greatly in spirit from the Confucian discourse on spirits.

The attitude of the Most High (Laozi):

The Laozi, chapter 60: "When one governs the realm by means of the Dao, ghosts lose their spiritual potency. It is not that they lose their potency, but that their potency does not harm people. It is not only that their potency does not harm people — the sage also does not harm people. Since neither harms the other, their virtues (de) converge in mutual benefit."

The Most High's discourse brings ghosts and spirits under the governance of the Dao. When one governs the realm by the Dao, ghosts and spirits each settle into their proper place and do not encroach upon one another. The "losing spiritual potency" here means losing their uncanny or preternatural character — it does not deny their existence but says that under the embrace of the Dao, spirits do not harm people with strange manifestations. This meaning subtly accords with the Zhongyong's discussion of spirits in terms of de (virtue).

The attitude of Master Zhuang (Zhuangzi):

The Zhuangzi, "The Great Ancestral Teacher" (Da Zongshi), describes the state of the "True Person": "The True People of antiquity did not oppose the few, did not parade achievements, did not scheme... Their sleep was dreamless, their waking without worry." And further: "Life and death are fated; that there is the constancy of night and day is of Heaven." Master Zhuang does not much discuss whether spirits exist, but regards life and death as the gathering and dispersing of qi. The Zhuangzi, "Knowledge Wandered North" (Zhi Beiyou):

"Human life is a gathering of qi. When it gathers, there is life; when it disperses, there is death. If life and death are companions, what have I to be troubled about$10 Therefore all things are one."

This theory of qi gathering and dispersing shares the same line of thought as Zichan's discourse on hun and po. The difference is that Zichan still preserves the specific categories of ghosts and spirits, while Master Zhuang directly unifies all under the single principle of "qi."

The attitude of the Yizhuan (Commentary on the Changes):

The Zhouyi (Book of Changes), "Appended Phrases" (Xici) part I: "Refined qi constitutes things; the wandering of the hun-soul constitutes transformation. Thus one knows the true condition of ghosts and spirits." And also: "What is unfathomable about yin and yang is called 'spirit' (shen)."

These two sentences are of the utmost importance. "Refined qi constitutes things" means that yin and yang vital essences congeal to form the myriad things. "The wandering of the hun-soul constitutes transformation" means the roaming and transforming of the yang-qi (hun). The "true condition of ghosts and spirits" does not refer to the coming and going of embodied spirits, but to the gathering and dispersing, the ebbing and flowing of yin and yang qi — this is the reality of guishen.

"What is unfathomable about yin and yang is called shen" — here shen describes the marvel of yin-yang transformation, its quality of being beyond intellectual measurement. The Xici also states: "Spirit has no fixed location, and the Changes have no fixed form." Without fixed location means its direction cannot be determined; without fixed form means its shape cannot be grasped. This accords precisely with the Zhongyong's "look for it and you cannot see it; listen for it and you cannot hear it."

Furthermore, Xici part II says: "Yin and yang combine their virtues, and the firm and yielding take on form, thereby embodying the patterns of Heaven and Earth and penetrating the virtue of spiritual illumination." The four characters "virtue of spiritual illumination" (shenming zhi de) directly echo "the virtue of ghosts and spirits." The Zhongyong's discussion of spirits clearly belongs to the same system of thought as the Yizhuan.

Synthesizing the views of the pre-Qin masters, we can see that the concept of guishen in the pre-Qin period carries at least three layers of meaning:

The first layer: personal, anthropomorphic spirits — the Celestial Lord, ancestors, the spirits of mountains and rivers. This is the belief tradition from high antiquity onward, with many examples in the Shijing (Book of Odes) and the Shangshu (Book of Documents).

The second layer: functional spirits — the contraction and extension, coming and going of yin and yang qi. This is the rationalized interpretation of the pre-Qin philosophers; Zichan, the Yizhuan, and Master Zhuang all held this view.

The third layer: spirits as a dimension of spiritual attainment — the subtle manifestation of the Dao-substance, the impossibility of concealing sincerity. This is the unique contribution of the Zhongyong.

The Zhongyong discusses spirits by integrating all three layers and ultimately converging on the third. It does not deny concrete spirits in sacrificial practice ("causing all the people of the realm to fast in purity, to don their finest garments, and to attend the sacrifices"), nor does it reject the explanation in terms of the extension and contraction of qi ("look for it and you cannot see it, listen for it and you cannot hear it, yet it embodies things and cannot be left out"). But in the end, it returns the meaning of spirits to "the impossibility of concealing sincerity" — a more fundamental metaphysical proposition.

Section 3: Why Does the Zhongyong Introduce "Ghosts and Spirits" Into Its Discourse$11

Here we must press a key question: since the Zhongyong is a text on "the Way of the Mean," why does it specifically discuss ghosts and spirits$12 What is the relationship between the doctrine of spirits and the Way of the Mean$13

The answer to this question requires us to return to the overall structure of the Zhongyong.

The Zhongyong opens with "What Heaven decrees is called the nature" — this nature is the original endowment bestowed by the Heavenly Way upon humanity. It continues: "Following the nature is called the Way" — this Way is the unfolding of the nature. Then: "Cultivating the Way is called instruction" — this instruction is the human effort involved.

Yet the Way, as something, "cannot be departed from for a single instant; what can be departed from is not the Way." Although the Way is not separate from daily human life, its substance is exceedingly subtle and hidden, beyond the reach of ear and eye. How can one prove that this Way truly exists$14 How can one prove that "cannot be departed from for a single instant" is not empty talk$15

The strategy of the Zhongyong is to use ghosts and spirits as an illustration.

Ghosts and spirits are such that looking one cannot see them, listening one cannot hear them — this is their subtlety. Yet they "embody all things and none can be left out," causing all people under Heaven to fast in purity and put on their finest garments to attend the sacrifices — this is their manifestation. From the subtle to the manifest: "such is the impossibility of concealing sincerity" — and so too with the Dao-substance. You cannot see it or hear it, but it is everywhere, operative at all times, functioning within all things, and nothing is left out.

Therefore, the core logical argument of the chapter on "the virtue of ghosts and spirits" is:

It uses the "subtle yet manifest" quality of spirits to analogize and demonstrate the "subtle yet manifest" quality of the Dao-substance, thereby introducing the proposition that "sincerity cannot be concealed."

This is why the Zhongyong discusses ghosts and spirits. It is not conducting a study in demonology or religious theory, but constructing a metaphysical argument. Spirits are merely an illustration, a passage, a bridge — through which the Zhongyong leads the reader toward the ontology of cheng (sincerity).

This argumentative strategy is not without parallel in pre-Qin thought. The Zhouyi Xici also uses guishen as a point of entry for understanding "the Way of yin and yang." The Yizhuan says: "Refined qi constitutes things; the wandering hun-soul constitutes transformation — thus one knows the true condition of ghosts and spirits." And further: "Resembling Heaven and Earth, therefore not contrary to them. Knowing all things thoroughly and aiding the world by the Way, therefore not in error. Moving freely without drifting, taking joy in Heaven and knowing one's destiny, therefore without worry. Settled in one's place and generous in benevolence, therefore able to love." The discussion of spirits there, too, aims to make manifest the Way of Heaven and Earth.

Chapter Two: "How Abundant Is the Virtue of Ghosts and Spirits!" — A Phrase-by-Phrase Exegesis

Section 1: "How Abundant Is the Virtue of Ghosts and Spirits!"

"The virtue of ghosts and spirits" — the key to this phrase lies in the character de (virtue).

In pre-Qin texts, de carries an exceedingly rich range of meanings. Its original meaning is "what is attained" (de 得). The Guanzi, "Techniques of the Mind" (Xinshu) part I: "De means attainment — what is attained is the means by which something comes to be as it is." And: "The formless void is called the Way (dao); the transformative nurturing of all things is called virtue (de)." Here dao and de are placed in juxtaposition: dao is the substance, de is the function.

Zhouyi Xici part I: "Manifesting itself as benevolence, concealing itself in utility, stimulating all things yet sharing none of the sage's anxieties — how magnificent is its abundant virtue and great enterprise!" And: "To be richly endowed is called great enterprise; to be daily renewed is called abundant virtue."

The "abundance" (sheng) of "abundant virtue" does not refer to quantity but to the fullness and grandeur of something reaching its utmost. "How abundant is the virtue of ghosts and spirits!" — the efficacy, potency, and moral power manifested by ghosts and spirits is supremely grand and overflowing!

Why "abundant"$16 Because the characteristics of spirits described in what follows — invisible to sight, inaudible to hearing, yet embodying all things without omission — demonstrate precisely that the virtue of spirits is omnipresent and all-encompassing, its efficacy so vast that nothing can be added to it. Precisely because it cannot be seen or heard, yet is everywhere, it is "abundant." Were it merely some specific, visible and audible thing, that would make it limited — and the limited is not "abundant."

This meaning subtly accords with chapter 41 of the Laozi:

"The greatest square has no corners; the greatest vessel is completed late; the greatest sound is barely audible; the greatest image has no form; the Dao is hidden and nameless. Yet only the Dao excels at providing and completing."

The greatest square has no corners — what is supremely large is no longer angular. The greatest sound is barely audible — the supreme sound cannot be heard. The greatest image has no form — the supreme image has no shape. The Laozi's Dao possesses precisely this quality of being "invisible to the eye, inaudible to the ear." And "excelling at providing and completing" is the meaning of "embodying all things without omission."

Hence the virtue of spirits is "abundant" precisely because it is formless and soundless yet omnipresent. This is a limitless efficacy that transcends finite existence.

Section 2: "Look for It and You Cannot See It; Listen for It and You Cannot Hear It"

"Look for it and you cannot see it" — though one uses the eye to look, one cannot see it. "Listen for it and you cannot hear it" — though one uses the ear to listen, one cannot hear it.

These two phrases declare that ghosts and spirits lie beyond the reach of the senses.

In pre-Qin texts, the use of "cannot be seen" and "cannot be heard" to describe the ultimate Way or ultimate Spirit is extremely common.

Chapter 14 of the Laozi:

"Looked at but not seen — it is called 'elusive' (yi). Listened to but not heard — it is called 'rarefied' (xi). Grasped at but not caught — it is called 'subtle' (wei). These three cannot be further fathomed, and so they blend into one. Above it is not bright; below it is not dark. Continuous and unnameable, it returns to nothingness. This is called the shape of the shapeless, the image of the thingless — it is called the indistinct. Approach it and you cannot see its front; follow it and you cannot see its rear."

The Zhongyong's "look for it and you cannot see it, listen for it and you cannot hear it" and the Laozi's "looked at but not seen," "listened to but not heard" are virtually identical in wording. What does this tell us$17

It tells us that pre-Qin Confucianism and Daoism, when describing the "Dao-substance" or the "subtlest source," shared the same language and conceptual framework. Both hold that ultimate reality transcends sensory experience — it cannot be seen with the eye, heard with the ear, or grasped by the hand. But this does not mean it does not exist — quite the contrary, it exists in a more fundamental manner.

However, though the two schools share this description, their aims differ. The "not seen" and "not heard" of the Laozi point toward the emptiness and indistinctness of the Dao's substance. The "cannot see" and "cannot hear" of the Zhongyong point toward the subtle grandeur of sincerity as it embodies all things. The Laozi understands invisibility from the angle of "nothingness" (wu); the Zhongyong understands it from the angle of "sincerity" (cheng).

Why "cannot see" and "cannot hear"$18 Because ghosts and spirits (or the Dao-substance, or the sincerity-substance) are not a specific "thing." Whatever can be seen must have form and color; whatever can be heard must have sound and tone. Whatever has form, color, sound, and tone is necessarily limited — having this form means not having that form, having this sound means not having that sound. But the virtue of spirits pervades all things without exception; if it could be seen or heard, it would become one thing among things, limited, and no longer "abundant."

This meaning receives splendid elaboration in Zhouyi Xici part I:

"The alternation of yin and yang is called the Way. What continues it is goodness; what completes it is the nature. The benevolent person, seeing it, calls it benevolence; the wise person, seeing it, calls it wisdom. The common people use it daily without knowing it — thus the Way of the noble person is rarely realized."

"The common people use it daily without knowing it" — this is another expression of "look for it and you cannot see it, listen for it and you cannot hear it." The common people use it every day without being aware of it, because the Way is formless and soundless; though it is everywhere, it does not present itself as any particular image.

Furthermore, the Xici states: "Spirit has no fixed direction and the Changes have no fixed form." Spirit has no fixed location; the Changes have no fixed body. This "without direction" and "without form" is precisely why they "cannot be seen" and "cannot be heard."

Section 3: "It Embodies All Things and Cannot Be Left Out"

This phrase is of the utmost importance — it is the pivot of the entire chapter.

The two characters tiwu ("embodies things") must be carefully analyzed. Ti (body/embody) here is used as a verb, meaning "to be embodied in things," "to be inherent in things," "to take things as its body." Yi means "to leave out" or "to omit." "It embodies all things and cannot be left out" — the virtue of spirits inheres in all things, and no single thing is omitted.

Why the emphasis on "cannot be left out"$19

Because the preceding text has said "look for it and you cannot see it; listen for it and you cannot hear it," the reader may wonder: since it can neither be seen nor heard, is it not mere vapor, inconsequential$20 "It embodies all things and cannot be left out" is the response to this doubt — though it cannot be seen or heard, it is not nonexistent; it exists in every single thing through "embodying things," without a single omission.

The logic here is supremely exquisite:

"Cannot see" and "cannot hear" — state that the virtue of spirits cannot be directly grasped by the senses (it is not an objectified existence).

"Embodies things without omission" — states that the virtue of spirits is inherent in all things, omnipresent (it does not exist independently of things).

Taken together: the virtue of spirits is neither a visible, audible object (for if it were an object, it would be limited), nor an emptiness detached from things (for if it were emptiness, it would be useless). It is "both transcendent and immanent," "both invisible and omnipresent" — this is the core insight of pre-Qin metaphysics regarding the Dao-substance.

This meaning finds abundant echoes in pre-Qin texts.

Chapter 34 of the Laozi:

"The great Dao flows everywhere — it can go left or right. The myriad things depend on it for life and it does not refuse them; it accomplishes its work but claims no merit. It clothes and nurtures all things yet does not lord over them. Constantly without desire, it may be named among the small. All things return to it yet it does not lord over them — it may be named among the great. Because it never considers itself great, it can achieve its greatness."

"The myriad things depend on it for life and it does not refuse them"; "it clothes and nurtures all things yet does not lord over them" — this is the meaning of "embodies things and cannot be left out." The Dao is inherent in all things, nurtures all things, yet does not exist in the form of any single thing.

The Zhuangzi, "Discourse on the Equality of Things" (Qiwulun): "Where has the Way gone that there should be true and false$21 Where have words gone that there should be right and wrong$22 Where can the Way go and not exist$23 Where can words exist and not be acceptable$24" And: "The Way has never known boundaries; words have never known constancy."

"Where can the Way go and not exist$25" — the implication: the Way exists nowhere that it is not. This is "embodies things and cannot be left out."

Furthermore, in the Zhuangzi, "Knowledge Wandered North," there is a supremely brilliant dialogue. Dongguozi asked Master Zhuang: "Where is this so-called Way$26" Master Zhuang said: "There is nowhere it is not." Dongguozi said: "Be more specific." Master Zhuang said: "It is in the ants." "How can it be so lowly$27" "It is in the panic grass." "How can it be even lower$28" "It is in tiles and shards." "How can it be even more so$29" "It is in excrement and urine." Dongguozi made no reply. Master Zhuang said:

"Your questions, sir, do not get at the substance. When the market inspector Huo asked about the fatness of pigs by pressing them down, each lower point proved more reliable. You must not insist on any one place — the Way escapes no thing. The perfect Way is like this, and so are great words. 'Universal,' 'pervasive,' and 'all-encompassing' — three different names for the same reality, all pointing to the one."

"The Way escapes no thing" (wu hu tao wu) — the Way does not flee from any single thing. This is the best gloss on "embodies things and cannot be left out." The "perfect Way" resides in ants, in panic grass, in tiles and shards, in excrement and urine — in every thing, regardless of its rank or station.

However, though Master Zhuang and the Zhongyong share common ground on "embodying things without omission," their intent differs. Master Zhuang's "escapes no thing" aims to dissolve the distinctions between self and other, right and wrong, noble and base, converging toward the "equality of things." The Zhongyong's "embodies things without omission" aims to manifest the pervasiveness of sincerity, converging toward the "completion of things."

This subtle distinction marks precisely the dividing line between Confucianism and Daoism.

Section 4: "Causing All the People of the Realm to Fast in Purity and Don Their Finest Garments to Attend the Sacrifices"

The first three sentences speak of the subtlety and pervasiveness of spirits; this sentence suddenly turns to human affairs — all the people of the realm purify themselves, dress in their finest garments with solemn bearing, to attend the sacrificial rites.

This shift carries deep significance.

Why the sudden transition from "invisible to sight, inaudible to hearing" to the matter of sacrifice$30

Because the Zhongyong's purpose in discussing spirits is not to establish a doctrine of spirits but to demonstrate that "sincerity cannot be concealed." The virtue of spirits, though invisible and inaudible, can nevertheless cause all people under Heaven to feel deep reverence, fasting in purity and donning their finest to attend the sacrifices — this is the finest illustration of "the subtle becoming manifest."

"Purifying" (qi 齐) means "fasting" (zhai 斋). The Liji, "Summary of Sacrifices" (Jitong):

"When the time for sacrifice draws near, the noble person fasts. 'Fasting' means 'making equal' — making the unequal equal in order to attain uniformity. Therefore the noble person does not fast unless there is a great occasion or a call for reverence. Without fasting, there is no guard against things and no restraint upon desires. When about to fast, one wards off corrupt things, puts an end to cravings; the ears do not listen to music; the mind does not indulge in idle thoughts — it must rest upon the Way."

"Making the unequal equal in order to attain uniformity" — bringing the scattered mind to unity, directing it to a single focus. This "fasting" is not merely the external act of bathing and cleansing, but the internal unification of will and thought.

"Purity" (ming) means clarity and cleanness — during the fasting period, the mind is bright and unstained by impurity.

"Finest garments" (shengfu) means wearing the most solemn attire. The Liji, "Meaning of Sacrifices": "On the days of fasting, one thinks of the departed's dwelling place, thinks of their laughter and speech, thinks of their aspirations and joys, thinks of what they loved. After fasting three days, one comes to see the person for whom one fasts." And: "On the day of sacrifice, entering the chamber, one dimly seems to see them in their place. Turning to leave, one solemnly seems to hear the sound of their bearing. Stepping outside the door to listen, one seems to catch the sound of their sighing."

This practice of fasting is precisely what shifts a person from the scattered mind of daily life into a state of undivided sincerity and reverence. In this state, the one performing the sacrifice seems genuinely to feel the presence of the spirits. This is what the subsequent text calls "flowing and overflowing, as though above, as though at the left and right."

The character cheng (承, to receive/attend) in "to attend the sacrifices" also carries a subtle implication. Cheng means to receive, to uphold. It is not that people go seeking the spirits, but that people, with sincere and reverent hearts, receive the presence of the spirits as they descend. This character cheng implies an important relationship: the virtue of spirits actively "embodies things," while the human response is to "receive" — to open oneself with a heart of sincerity and receive the descent of this subtle virtue.

Why do all the people of the realm fast in purity and don their finest garments to attend the sacrifices$31 Why do people feel such deep reverence for spirits that cannot be seen or heard$32 This is precisely the power of "sincerity that cannot be concealed." The virtue of spirits, though invisible and inaudible, possesses cheng — the genuine, unfeigned nature of authentic being — and this cannot be hidden. It stirs a response in the depths of the human heart, making it impossible not to revere, not to feel awe, not to face it with the most devout attitude.

Here we may cite a passage from the Shangshu, "Counsels of the Great Yu" (Da Yu Mo):

"The Lord said: 'Come, Yu! The floodwaters were a warning to me. Fulfilling your charge and accomplishing the task — only you could do this. Diligent in the state, frugal in the home, never self-satisfied or presumptuous — only you could do this. Because you do not boast, none under Heaven contends with you in ability; because you do not vaunt, none contends with you in merit. I commend your virtue and praise your great achievements. The sequence of Heaven rests in your person — you shall ascend to be the sovereign. The human heart is precarious; the heart of the Way is subtle. Be discerning, be single-minded, and faithfully hold fast to the Mean.'"

"The heart of the Way is subtle" (daoxin wei wei) — the moral heart is exceedingly subtle. But precisely because of "discerning and single-minded" practice — by applying the most sincere and undivided heart — one can "faithfully hold fast to the Mean." This is continuous with the Zhongyong's argument: the virtue of spirits may be subtle, but when apprehended with a sincere heart, it naturally becomes manifest.

Furthermore, the Shangshu, "Metal-Bound Coffer" (Jinteng), records the Duke of Zhou's prayer for King Wu:

"The Duke of Zhou stood upon the altar, holding jade discs and grasping jade tablets, and made his announcement to the Great King, King Ji, and King Wen."

The Duke of Zhou was addressing his deceased ancestors — the Great King, King Ji, King Wen. These three could not be seen or heard. Yet the Duke of Zhou prayed with the most sincere heart, offering to take King Wu's illness upon himself. And King Wu recovered. Regardless of the historical accuracy of this account, its recording and transmission in pre-Qin literature demonstrates that people of the pre-Qin period deeply believed that the utmost sincerity of heart could penetrate to and communicate with ghosts and spirits.

Section 5: "Flowing and Overflowing, As Though Above, As Though at the Left and Right"

"Flowing and overflowing" (yangyang 洋洋) describes an appearance of spreading fullness. The Shijing, "Greater Odes," "King Wen": "King Wen is on high — oh, how radiant in Heaven! Though Zhou is an old state, its mandate is renewed. Great is Zhou's glory; the Lord's mandate is timely. King Wen ascends and descends, at the Lord's left and right."

This "King Wen ascends and descends, at the Lord's left and right" may be read alongside "as though above, as though at the left and right." King Wen's spirit cannot be seen, yet when the people of Zhou reverently sacrifice to him, they sense — flowing and overflowing — as though he were above and at their sides. This is the "as though present" quality of spirits.

Note the use of the word "as though" (ru 如). "As though above, as though at the left and right" — it is "as if present," not "definitely present." This "as though" echoes the earlier "look for it and you cannot see it, listen for it and you cannot hear it": you truly cannot see or hear, yet after fasting with utmost sincerity, you experience a powerful sense of "as though present."

Whence comes this sense of "as though present"$33

It does not come from external sensory stimulation (for there is nothing to see or hear), nor from intellectual inference. It comes from cheng — from the mutual resonance between the sacrificer's inner sincerity and the subtle virtue of the spirits.

In the Lunyu, "Ba Yi," the Master says: "Sacrifice as though they were present; sacrifice to the spirits as though the spirits were present." This is precisely this meaning. "As though present" does not mean "not present," nor does it mean "definitely present." It is a special experience that transcends the binary opposition of "present" and "not present." In the state of utmost sincerity, the distinction between presence and absence dissolves, leaving only a unified state pervaded by awe and mutual resonance.

This state of being has deep roots in the pre-Qin sacrificial tradition. The Liji, "Meaning of Sacrifices":

"When King Wen sacrificed, he served the dead as though serving the living, and thought of the dead as though he could not bear to go on living. On days of taboo he would be filled with grief; when speaking the tabooed names he seemed to see his parents before him. Such was his devotion in sacrifice — as though seeing what the departed loved, as though desiring a beautiful face. Was this not King Wen$34 The Ode says: 'At the break of dawn, unable to sleep, I think of my two parents.' This was King Wen's poem. The morning after the sacrifice, at dawn unable to sleep, having feasted and conveyed the offerings, he would think of them again. On the day of sacrifice, joy and grief were mixed in equal measure. The feast must bring joy; when it was over, grief was certain. From this I perceive what manner of person King Wen was."

"He served the dead as though serving the living" — treating the departed as though they were still alive. This "as though" carries the same meaning as "as though above, as though at the left and right." When King Wen sacrificed to his ancestors, he invested himself wholly with sincerity of heart, dissolving the boundary between present and absent, bridging the gap between the dead and the living.

This experience is neither superstition nor hallucination — it is the ultimate expression of the function of cheng. Precisely because the virtue of spirits "embodies things and cannot be left out," and precisely because human sincerity is sufficient to resonate with this subtle virtue, there arises the experience of "flowing and overflowing, as though present."

Section 6: Citing the Ode: "The Spirits' Descent — It Cannot Be Fathomed; How Much Less May It Be Treated with Disdain!"

Here the Zhongyong cites the Shijing as evidence. The poem comes from the "Greater Odes," "Restraint" (Yi), originally a very long poem of self-admonition by Duke Wu of Wei. One stanza reads:

"The spirits' descent — it cannot be fathomed! How much less may it be treated with disdain!"

Ge (格) means "to come," "to arrive." Si (思) is an exclamatory particle, like "indeed" or "ah." Du (度) means to measure, to fathom. Shen (矧) means "how much more." She (射) means "to weary of," carrying a sense of neglectful disdain; some also gloss it as yi (斁, to reject).

The full meaning of the line: The descent of the spirits — it cannot be fathomed! How much less may one be negligent and disrespectful!

The Zhongyong cites this poem to emphasize the "unfathomability" and "gravity" of spirits. You cannot fathom when or how the spirits will descend — this is their "subtlety." But precisely because they are unfathomable, you must not harbor the slightest negligence or disdain — this is the proper response to "subtlety."

The full poem "Restraint" (Yi) from the "Greater Odes" is a discourse on vigilance and reverential caution by Duke Wu of Wei. Its opening stanza reads:

"Dignified and solemn in bearing — this is the corner of virtue. As the saying goes: there is no wise person who is not sometimes foolish. The folly of the common person comes from mere deficiency. The folly of the wise comes from perversity."

This speaks of self-examination: if the wise do not admonish themselves, they too will fall into foolishness. Hence one must be constantly vigilant. The poem further says:

"Look to your friend, the noble person — keep your countenance mild; do not go far astray. Observe yourself even in your private chamber — let there be nothing to shame you in the darkest corner of the room. Do not say 'no one sees me, no one will know.' The spirits' descent — it cannot be fathomed! How much less may it be treated with disdain!"

"Observe yourself even in your private chamber — let there be nothing to shame you in the darkest corner of the room" — even when dwelling alone in a secluded room, one should have nothing to be ashamed of. "Do not say 'no one sees me'" — do not think that because no one can see, no one knows. Immediately follows: "The spirits' descent — it cannot be fathomed!" — because you never know when the spirits may come!

This meaning is profoundly penetrating. The first chapter of the Zhongyong says: "Nothing is more visible than what is hidden; nothing is more manifest than what is subtle. Therefore the noble person is watchful over himself when alone (shen qi du)" — and this is precisely the same meaning. In the most hidden and subtle places, in the most unobserved moments, that is exactly where sincerity is most impossible to conceal. The spirits' descent "cannot be fathomed" — you cannot predict when they will come — and therefore you must maintain reverence at all times, maintain sincerity at all times. This is the deep foundation of "watchfulness in solitude" (shendu).

From this we can see that the Zhongyong's citation of this poem not only speaks of the unfathomability of spirits but also provides metaphysical grounds for the practice of "watchfulness in solitude." Spirits "embody things without omission" and "cannot be fathomed" — this is the metaphysical source of "nothing is more visible than the hidden, nothing is more manifest than the subtle."

Section 7: "That the Subtle Becomes Manifest — Such Is the Impossibility of Concealing Sincerity!"

This sentence is the summation of the entire chapter. The three characters "the subtle becomes manifest" (wei zhi xian) encapsulate the chapter's argumentative logic. The five characters "sincerity cannot be concealed" (cheng zhi bu ke yan) point to the chapter's ultimate conclusion.

"The subtle becomes manifest" — from the hidden and subtle to the evident and manifest. The virtue of spirits is supremely subtle in substance (look for it and you cannot see it; listen for it and you cannot hear it), yet supremely manifest in function (embodying things without omission, causing all people of the realm to fast in purity and don their finest for the sacrifices, flowing and overflowing as though above, as though at the left and right). This "subtle" and "manifest" are not two opposing poles but two sides of a single reality. Precisely because it is "subtle" (formless, soundless, omnipresent), it is therefore "manifest" (embodying things without omission, functioning everywhere).

This pattern of thought — "the subtle becomes manifest" — appears repeatedly in pre-Qin texts.

Zhouyi Xici part II: "The incipient (ji) is the subtlety of a movement, the first visible sign of fortune or misfortune." And: "The noble person sees the incipient and acts upon it, not waiting for the day to end." The character ji (incipient) is a concrete instance of "the subtle becoming manifest" — the very first sign of change in affairs, exceedingly fine, yet one who observes it well can foresee the great trend of fortune or misfortune.

Chapter 64 of the Laozi: "What is at rest is easy to hold; what has not yet shown signs is easy to plan for. The brittle is easy to shatter; the minute is easy to scatter. Act on things before they come into being; govern them before disorder arises. A tree that fills the arms grows from a tiny shoot; a terrace of nine stories rises from a heap of earth; a journey of a thousand li begins beneath the feet." This "grows from a tiny shoot," "rises from a heap of earth," "begins beneath the feet" — all are examples of "the subtle becoming manifest."

The Daxue (Great Learning): "When sincerity is within, it manifests without; therefore the noble person must be watchful in solitude." This "sincerity within, manifest without" is the moral cultivation expression of "the subtle becomes manifest." The sincerity in one's heart (subtle) will inevitably show in one's outward words and conduct (manifest).

"Such is the impossibility of concealing sincerity!" — The genuine truthfulness of cheng cannot be covered up, just like the virtue of ghosts and spirits!

Here the character cheng (sincerity) appears for the first time in this chapter, but in fact the entire chapter has been speaking of cheng. The virtue of spirits is "abundant," "embodies things without omission," causes people to "fast in purity and don their finest" and to experience the spirits "as though above, as though at the left and right" — the fundamental reason for all this is one word: cheng. The essence of the virtue of spirits is cheng — genuine, unfeigned, natural and irrepressible.

This "sincerity cannot be concealed" is both a summation of the virtue of spirits and a bridge to the subsequent "sincerity is self-completing." The entire chapter enters through "ghosts and spirits" and arrives finally at "sincerity," completing the ascent from phenomenon to substance, from the concrete to the abstract.

Chapter Three: "The Virtue of Ghosts and Spirits" and the Pre-Qin Sacrificial Tradition

Section 1: The Original Meaning of Sacrifice in High Antiquity

To understand the chapter on "the virtue of ghosts and spirits" in depth, one cannot avoid examining the pre-Qin sacrificial tradition, for the chapter's argument takes sacrifice as its backdrop and sacrificial experience as its evidence.

Sacrifice in high antiquity was not merely a product of superstitious belief in spirits but carried exceedingly deep humanistic significance.

The Liji, "Summary of Sacrifices":

"Of all the ways of governing people, none is more urgent than ritual. Of the five canonical rites, none is weightier than sacrifice. Sacrifice is not something that comes from outside — it is born from within, generated from the heart. The heart is stirred, and one presents offerings in the form of ritual. Therefore only the worthy can fully realize the meaning of sacrifice."

"It is not something that comes from outside — it is born from within, generated from the heart" — sacrifice is not the spirits coming to find you from the outside, but an expression of heartfelt sincerity and reverence. "The heart is stirred, and one presents offerings in the form of ritual" — one is moved within, then expresses this through the forms of ritual. This is the original meaning of sacrifice.

The "Summary of Sacrifices" further says:

"The worthy person who sacrifices will surely receive blessings — but not what the world calls blessings. Blessings mean completeness. Completeness means that everything proceeds smoothly — 'completely smooth' is the meaning of 'complete.' It means that within, one does one's utmost, and without, one accords with the Way. The loyal minister serves his lord, and the filial son serves his parents — their root is one."

"Blessings mean completeness; completeness means everything proceeds smoothly" — the "blessings" of sacrifice are not the worldly blessings of wealth and rank, but bei — that everything is smooth and unobstructed. "Within one does one's utmost, without one accords with the Way" — inwardly one fulfills one's sincere reverence, outwardly one is in harmony with the great Way. This is the function of cheng.

The "Meaning of Sacrifices":

"How great is sacrifice as an institution! All things are prepared in it. It is a matter of accord and completeness — is it not the root of instruction$35 Therefore the noble person's instruction is: externally, teaching reverence for one's ruler and elders; internally, teaching filial devotion to one's parents."

The function of sacrifice lies in "instruction" (jiao). Through sacrifice, one learns to revere the ruler, serve one's parents, and practice filial obedience. Sacrifice is not only an offering to spirits but the fundamental means of humanistic transformation and instruction.

The Guoyu (Discourses of the States), "Discourses of Chu" part II, records a supremely important dialogue between King Zhao of Chu and Guan Shefu about the "severing of communication between Heaven and Earth":

"King Zhao asked Guan Shefu: 'What does the Zhoushu mean when it says that Zhong and Li caused Heaven and Earth to cease communicating$36 Had they not done so, would common people have been able to ascend to Heaven$37'"

He replied: "That is not its meaning. In ancient times, people and spirits were not intermingled. Among the people, those whose vital essence was undivided and who could further be reverent, composed, loyal, and upright — whose wisdom could compare with what is above and below in rightness, whose sagacity could illumine far and wide, whose perspicacity could bring light to shine upon things, whose acuity could hear things thoroughly — to such as these the luminous spirits would descend. Among men these were called xi (male shamans), among women wu (female shamans). Thus they regulated the positions, ranks, and presiding duties of spirits, and prepared their sacrificial animals, vessels, seasonal vestments. Then those among the descendants of former sages who possessed glorious merit, and who could know the names of mountains and rivers, the tablets of high ancestors, the affairs of ancestral temples, the generations of the zhao and mu ranks, the diligence of reverent fasting, the propriety of ritual procedures, the norms of dignified bearing, the grandeur of countenance, the substance of loyalty and trust, and the purity of sacrificial garments — those who reverently served the luminous spirits were made invocators (zhu). Those among the descendants of distinguished families who could know the productions of the four seasons, the animals for sacrifice, the categories of jade and silk, the specifications of ceremonial dress, the measures of ritual vessels, the proportions of tablets, the placements of screens, the locations of altars, the upper and lower spirits, and the origins of clans — those whose hearts followed ancient norms — were made directors (zong). Thus there were officials for Heaven, Earth, spirits, people, and things — the so-called Five Offices — each maintaining their proper order without confusion. The people could thereby maintain loyalty and trust; the spirits could thereby maintain luminous virtue. People and spirits had separate functions; they were reverent without profanity. Therefore the spirits sent down bountiful life; the people offered substance; calamities did not arrive; needs were not exhausted."

"When Shaohao declined, the Nine Li threw virtue into disorder; people and spirits became indiscriminately mixed and could no longer be distinguished. Everyone made offerings; every household set up shamans and invokers; there was no standard of quality. The people were impoverished by sacrifices and did not know their blessings. Offerings were made without measure; people and spirits occupied the same rank. The people profaned their fasting and covenants; there was no solemnity or authority. The spirits grew familiar with human customs and did not purify their actions. Bountiful life did not descend; there were no substances for offering; calamities came one after another; nothing was complete in its vital force. When Zhuanxu received the charge, he commanded the Supervisor of the South, Zhong, to manage Heaven and attend to the spirits, and the Supervisor of Fire, Li, to manage Earth and attend to the people, restoring the old order so that there was no encroachment or profanation. This is called 'the severing of communication between Heaven and Earth.'"

This passage is extremely long, yet every sentence carries deep meaning. Its core points are as follows:

First, in antiquity, people and spirits each had their proper sphere. Those able to communicate with spirits (shamans) had to possess qualities such as "vital essence undivided," "reverent, composed, loyal, and upright," and "the substance of loyalty and trust" — all manifestations of cheng.

Second, "When Shaohao declined, the Nine Li threw virtue into disorder; people and spirits became intermingled" — when people lost their sincere reverence, the proper boundary between humans and spirits was thrown into chaos. "Every household set up shamans"; "the people were impoverished by sacrifices and did not know their blessings" — when everyone plays at communicating with spirits, the true meaning of sacrifice is lost.

Third, "the severing of communication between Heaven and Earth" — Zhuanxu reestablished the proper distinction between Heaven and Earth, between spirits and people, so that the "old order was restored without encroachment or profanation."

The importance of this material lies in its revelation of the core principle of the ancient sacrificial tradition: the proper relationship between spirits and humans must be founded upon cheng (sincerity). The shaman's ability to communicate with spirits is due to "vital essence undivided" and "reverent, composed, loyal, and upright" — that is, due to their cheng. Once "the people profaned their fasting and covenants" and "the spirits grew familiar with human customs," the entire relationship between spirits and humans collapsed.

This accords precisely with the Zhongyong's "causing all the people of the realm to fast in purity and don their finest garments to attend the sacrifices." "Fasting in purity and donning finest garments" is the key to maintaining the proper relationship between spirits and humans. And its substance is precisely cheng.

Section 2: The Evolution of Sacrifice Through the Three Dynasties

Pre-Qin sacrifice, from high antiquity through the Three Dynasties, underwent profound changes.

Sacrifice in the Xia:

The Lunyu, "Ba Yi": the Master said: "I can speak of the rites of the Xia, but Qi cannot supply sufficient evidence; I can speak of the rites of the Yin, but Song cannot supply sufficient evidence. This is because their documents and worthies are insufficient. Were they sufficient, I could verify my words."

The Liji, "Record of Exemplary Conduct" (Biaoji), records the Master's discussion of the instruction of the Three Dynasties:

"The Master said: 'The way of the Xia was to honor Heaven's decree. They served ghosts and revered spirits but kept them at a distance; they drew close to the people and were loyal to them. Their rewards were just and their punishments restrained. They placed emoluments first and authority second; rewards before punishments. They were intimate but without reverence. The failing of their people was that they were dull and foolish, unrefined and wild, simple but lacking culture.'"

The Xia people "served ghosts and revered spirits but kept them at a distance" — this attitude of "reverence with distance" well accords with the Master's own words. The Xia drew close to people and were loyal, taking human affairs as fundamental, revering spirits but not becoming overly intimate with them.

Sacrifice in the Yin-Shang:

The Biaoji further says:

"The Yin people honored spirits and led the people in serving spirits; they put ghosts before ritual, punishments before rewards. They were revered but not intimate. The failing of their people was that they were restless and unstill, overbearing and shameless."

The Yin people "honored spirits and led the people in serving spirits" — in Yin-Shang culture, spirit worship occupied an absolutely central position. The oracle bone inscriptions are proof of this. The Yin people consulted divination on virtually everything, constantly inquiring of the spirits. The frequency and grandeur of their sacrifices far surpassed those of the Xia and Zhou. Yet their failing was "restless and unstill" — excessive dependence on spirits made the people's hearts agitated.

Sacrifice in the Zhou:

The Biaoji further says:

"The Zhou people honored ritual and valued giving. They served ghosts and revered spirits but kept them at a distance; they drew close to people and were loyal to them. Their rewards and punishments were administered through ranks and titles. They were intimate but without reverence. The failing of their people was that they were calculating and clever, cultured but unashamed, duplicitous and concealed."

The Zhou people "honored ritual and valued giving" — ritual was their core. "Served ghosts and revered spirits but kept them at a distance" — in this they were the same as the Xia. But the Zhou's distinctive feature was "honoring ritual" — they brought spirit worship within the framework of the ritual system, regularizing and institutionalizing it.

From the evolution across the Xia, Shang, and Zhou dynasties, a clear thread can be discerned: the attitude toward spirits moved from "reverence with distance" (Xia) to "honoring spirits and leading the people in serving them" (Yin) and back to "reverence with distance," but now under the governance of "ritual" (Zhou). The Zhou people kept spirits "at a distance" not because they disbelieved in them, but because they brought the worship of spirits within the system of humanistic cultivation.

The Zhongyong, carrying forward the tradition of the Zhou rites, deepened this approach further. It does not deny the reality of spirits ("embodies things without omission"; "flowing and overflowing, as though present"), but returns the meaning of spirits to cheng — to a more fundamental metaphysical principle.

Section 3: Why Can "Sincerity" Communicate with Ghosts and Spirits$38

Here we must pursue a core question: why can cheng resonate with ghosts and spirits$39

In pre-Qin texts, a repeatedly appearing idea is: the utmost sincerity can communicate with Heaven, Earth, and spirits.

In the Shangshu, "Metal-Bound Coffer," the Duke of Zhou prays with utmost sincerity to the former kings, offering to take King Wu's illness upon himself. "The Duke returned and placed the document in the metal-bound coffer. The next day, the King recovered."

In the Zuozhuan, Duke Xi year 5, Gong Zhiqi admonishes the Duke of Yu:

"I have heard that ghosts and spirits do not favor any person, but only virtue. Thus the Zhoushu says: 'August Heaven has no favorites — it only aids the virtuous.' And again: 'The fragrance of millet and grain is not the true fragrance — the fragrance of brilliant virtue alone is true fragrance.' And again: 'The people do not change their offerings — only virtue truly constitutes an offering.' This being so, without virtue the people will not be harmonious, and the spirits will not enjoy the sacrifices. What the spirits rely upon is virtue. If Jin takes Yu and then offers fragrant sacrifices with brilliant virtue, will the spirits reject them$40"

This passage is of the utmost importance. Gong Zhiqi explicitly states: "Ghosts and spirits do not favor any person, but only virtue." Spirits do not draw near to any particular person but to de (virtue). "The fragrance of millet and grain is not the true fragrance — the fragrance of brilliant virtue alone is true fragrance" — the aroma of sacrificial offerings is not the real fragrance; the radiance of virtuous conduct is the true fragrance.

This idea had extremely wide influence in pre-Qin thought.

Zuozhuan, Duke Zhuang year 32, the scribe Yin says to the Duke of Guo:

"When a state is about to flourish, it listens to the people. When it is about to perish, it listens to the spirits. Spirits are the perspicacious, upright, and single-minded — they follow and act according to human conduct."

"Spirits are perspicacious, upright, and single-minded" — spirits are clear-sighted, just, and undivided. "They follow and act according to human conduct" — spirits decide their actions based on the virtue of people. This accords with Gong Zhiqi's statement that spirits "only favor virtue."

Zuozhuan, Duke Xiang year 11, Ji Wuzi says:

"Ghosts and spirits do not enjoy the sacrifices of those not of their clan."

Spirits only accept sacrifices from members of their own clan — this explains the spirits-human relationship from the perspective of the lineage system. But the deeper implication is that between spirits and humans there is a kinship of blood and virtue, and those who are not of utmost sincerity cannot communicate with them.

Synthesizing these materials, we can summarize the pre-Qin rationale for "sincerity being able to communicate with spirits":

First, the essence of spirits is de (genuine, unfeigned original nature), and human cheng is also a genuine, unfeigned heart. Cheng and de are of the same quality and structure, and thus can resonate with each other — just as two strings tuned to the same note vibrate sympathetically when one is struck.

Second, spirits "embody things without omission" and are omnipresent. The sincere heart of a person is likewise at the deepest core of one's being. When a person opens oneself with utmost sincerity, one naturally touches the omnipresent virtue of spirits.

Third, from the perspective of yin-yang cosmological transformation, spirits are the contraction and extension of yin and yang qi, and human life is also a condensation of yin and yang qi. The utmost sincerity of a person harmonizes one's own yin and yang, making one's vital circulation smooth, and thereby enabling resonance with the yin and yang of Heaven and Earth.

This third point finds explicit theoretical support in the Zhouyi. The Yi, Hexagram Xian (Influence), Commentary on the Judgment (Tuanzhuan):

"Xian means 'influence.' The yielding above and the firm below — the two kinds of qi resonate and interact. Stillness and joy. The man places himself below the woman — thus 'success; beneficial to be steadfast; taking a wife is auspicious.' Heaven and Earth influence each other and the myriad things are transformed and born. The sage influences the hearts of people and the realm is harmonious and at peace. Observe what influences, and the true nature of Heaven, Earth, and the myriad things can be seen."

"The two kinds of qi resonate and interact" — yin and yang qi mutually respond. This is the essence of xian (influence). Extended broadly, the connection between all things in the cosmos is based upon "resonance." Heaven and Earth influence each other and the myriad things are born; the sage influences human hearts and the realm is at peace. The communication between the virtue of spirits and the sincerity of the human heart is also an instance of this "resonance."

Zhouyi Xici part I: "The Changes are without thought, without action. Still and unmoving, yet when stimulated, they penetrate all situations under Heaven. Were it not the most spirit-like thing in the world, what could accomplish this$1"

"Still and unmoving, yet when stimulated, penetrating all" — this is precisely a portrait of the virtue of spirits. The virtue of spirits in itself is "still and unmoving" (invisible, inaudible), but once there is "stimulus" (human sincerity), it "penetrates all situations under Heaven." This "most spirit-like" is the shen of "the virtue of ghosts and spirits."

Chapter Four: The Pattern of Thought of "The Subtle Becomes Manifest" and Pre-Qin Philosophy

Section 1: The Dialectic of "Subtle" and "Manifest"

"The subtle becomes manifest" — these three characters contain an exceedingly profound pattern of thought in pre-Qin philosophy.

The "subtle" (wei) is that which is hidden and invisible. The "manifest" (xian) is that which is evident and knowable. "The subtle becomes manifest" — from subtle to manifest; the subtle is the manifest; within the subtle lies the manifest; the subtle does not stand apart from the manifest.

This pattern of thought has extremely wide application in pre-Qin texts.

"The subtle becomes manifest" in the Zhouyi:

Xici part II: "Is not knowing the incipient a divine quality$2 The noble person, in his dealings above, does not flatter; in his dealings below, does not presume — does he not know the incipient$3 The incipient is the subtlety of a movement, the first visible sign of fortune. The noble person sees the incipient and acts, not waiting for the day to end."

"The incipient is the subtlety of a movement" — ji is the most subtle sign of change. Yet this most subtle sign is "the first visible sign of fortune or misfortune" — it portends great good or ill. This is "the subtle becomes manifest": what seems trivial actually contains momentous information.

The Kun hexagram, Commentary on the Words (Wenyan): "The house that accumulates good deeds will surely have abundant blessings; the house that accumulates evil will surely have lingering calamity. When a minister murders his lord, or a son his father, this is not the work of a single morning or evening — it came about gradually, through failure to distinguish early enough. The Yi says: 'Treading on frost, solid ice will come.' This speaks of following a course." "Treading on frost, solid ice will come" — step on frost, and you know that solid ice is approaching. Frost is the "subtle"; solid ice is the "manifest." "It came about gradually" — the subtle becoming manifest is not sudden but progressive. This is "the subtle becomes manifest" as displayed in history and human affairs.

"The subtle becomes manifest" in the Laozi:

Chapter 15: "The good practitioners of the Way in ancient times were subtly wonderful and darkly penetrating — too deep to be known."

"Subtly wonderful and darkly penetrating" — "subtle" is one of their qualities. Yet the "too deep to be known" practitioner of the Way acts "hesitant, as if fording a river in winter; cautious, as if fearing neighbors on all sides; dignified, as if a guest; yielding, as if ice about to melt; plain, as if an uncarved block; broad, as if a valley; opaque, as if muddy water." These manifold descriptions are all the "manifest." To display the subtle Way through bearing and conduct — this is "the subtle becomes manifest."

Chapter 36: "If you wish to contract something, you must first let it expand; if you wish to weaken something, you must first strengthen it; if you wish to abolish something, you must first establish it; if you wish to seize something, you must first give it. This is called 'subtle illumination' (weiming)."

"Subtle illumination" — these two characters are supremely apt. The "subtle" is itself "illumination"; the hidden is itself the bright. Though the principle of the Way is subtle, its effects are supremely manifest. This term weiming is of the same cloth as the Zhongyong's "the subtle becomes manifest."

"The subtle becomes manifest" in the Daxue:

The Daxue: "What is meant by 'making one's intentions sincere' is not deceiving oneself. It is like hating a foul odor, like loving a lovely sight — this is called self-satisfaction. Therefore the noble person must be watchful in solitude. The petty person, in private, does evil without limit; upon seeing a noble person, he is startled and conceals his evil while displaying his good. But others see into him as if they could see his lungs and liver — what use is concealment$4 This is what is meant by 'sincerity within manifests without.' Therefore the noble person must be watchful in solitude."

"Sincerity within manifests without" — this is the expression of "the subtle becomes manifest" in the realm of self-cultivation. The sincerity or falsity of one's inner heart (subtle) inevitably appears in outward words and deeds (manifest). The petty person thinks that "doing evil in private" goes unnoticed — this is not understanding "the subtle becomes manifest." Little do they know that "others see into him as if they could see his lungs and liver" — inner goodness and evil cannot be concealed.

The Daxue also cites the Shijing: "Gaze upon the banks of the Qi — the green bamboo sways luxuriantly. Here is the cultivated noble person, like bone cut and filed, like jade carved and polished." And it cites Master Zeng: "What ten eyes watch, what ten hands point at — how solemn!" — even when alone and unobserved, it is as though ten eyes are watching and ten hands pointing. This is the moral pressure of "the subtle becomes manifest" — what you think is hidden and invisible is actually the most exposed and evident.

Section 2: Why Can "the Subtle" Become "Manifest"$5 — The Pre-Qin Answer

The pattern of "the subtle becomes manifest" is so pervasive in pre-Qin thought. How, then, did the pre-Qin thinkers explain why the subtle can become manifest$6

Explanation One: Resonance through qi-transformation.

As discussed, pre-Qin yin-yang cosmological theory holds that all things in Heaven and Earth are flows of yin and yang qi. The subtle aspects of qi (such as the virtue of spirits), though invisible and inaudible, belong to the same qi as the grosser, more evident aspects (such as things with form and sound), and thus can resonate with them. As the Zhouyi Xici says: "Similar sounds respond to each other; similar qi seeks its own kind."

"Water flows toward the moist; fire moves toward the dry; clouds follow the dragon; wind follows the tiger. When the sage arises, all things are beheld. What is rooted in Heaven draws upward; what is rooted in Earth draws downward — each follows its kind." All things follow their kind; the subtle resonates with the subtle, the manifest with the manifest, and between subtle and manifest, they are linked through qi.

Explanation Two: The natural unfolding of the Dao-substance.

The Most High said: "The Way gave birth to the One; the One gave birth to the Two; the Two gave birth to the Three; the Three gave birth to the myriad things." The Dao-substance is supremely subtle ("the Dao is hidden and nameless"), yet it naturally unfolds into the myriad things — this unfolding is "the subtle becomes manifest." It is not external force that makes it manifest, but its own internal necessity.

The Zhongyong: "Such is the impossibility of concealing sincerity!" — the three characters "cannot be concealed" (bu ke yan) are the most critical. Why can it not be concealed$7 Because the very nature of cheng is to be genuine, unfeigned, and to manifest itself naturally. What is true cannot be concealed forever — this is an ontological necessity. Just as water flows downward and fire flames upward, the manifestation of sincerity is its inherent nature, beyond the power of human effort to obstruct.

Explanation Three: The capacity of the human heart for sympathetic communication.

The reason humans can perceive the "manifestation" of the "subtle" is that the human heart itself possesses the capacity for sympathetic communication.

Mengzi (Master Meng), "Exhausting the Heart" (Jinxin) part I: "One who exhausts one's heart knows one's nature. Knowing one's nature, one knows Heaven. To preserve one's heart and nurture one's nature is the way to serve Heaven. Neither premature death nor long life causes any wavering — cultivating oneself and awaiting destiny is the way to establish one's fate."

The human heart, as a thing, can "exhaust the heart, know the nature, know Heaven" — that is, from the nearest (the heart) reach the farthest (Heaven). This is the human heart's capacity for resonance. With this capacity, one can, in sacrifice, sense the spirits "flowing and overflowing, as though above, as though at the left and right" — one can perceive the subtle manifestation of the virtue of spirits.

Mengzi, "Gongsun Chou" part I: "As for this qi, it is supremely great and supremely firm. Nourish it with uprightness and do it no harm, and it will fill the space between Heaven and Earth." This "flood-like qi" (haoran zhi qi) is the great and upright qi cultivated through utmost sincerity. With this qi, one is connected with Heaven and Earth, and naturally can communicate with all subtle virtue.

Section 3: "The Subtle Becomes Manifest" and "Watchfulness in Solitude" — The Inner Logic of Pre-Qin Cultivation

"The subtle becomes manifest" is not merely a metaphysical proposition but the inner logical foundation of pre-Qin cultivation practice.

The first chapter of the Zhongyong:

"The Way cannot be departed from for a single instant; what can be departed from is not the Way. Therefore the noble person is vigilant and apprehensive about what he does not see, fearful about what he does not hear. Nothing is more visible than what is hidden; nothing is more manifest than what is subtle. Therefore the noble person is watchful over himself when alone."

"Nothing is more visible than what is hidden; nothing is more manifest than what is subtle" — there is nothing more easily seen than what is concealed, nothing more easily exposed than what is minute. Why$8 Because "the subtle becomes manifest" — because "sincerity cannot be concealed."

In the most hidden moments of solitude, the goodness or evil, the sincerity or falsity of the human heart is most fully exposed. Why$9 Because in public, one can pretend and embellish; but in solitude, the motive for pretense disappears, and one's true nature emerges naturally. This true nature, whether good or evil, sincere or false, is "subtle" and hidden — yet it is precisely the most "manifest," for it determines the fundamental quality of who one is as a person.

Therefore the practice of "watchfulness in solitude" is built upon the understanding that "the subtle becomes manifest." Knowing that "the subtle becomes manifest," knowing that "sincerity cannot be concealed," one is especially cautious when alone — because that is precisely the moment when one most truly faces oneself.

This meaning is repeatedly affirmed in the Liji, Daxue as well. "Do not deceive yourself" — for self-deception is ultimately ineffective. "Sincerity cannot be concealed" — your deception of yourself will eventually "manifest without" and be seen through by others.

The inner logic of pre-Qin Confucian cultivation practice thus becomes clear:

1. The essence of the Heavenly Way is cheng (genuine and unfeigned).
2. Human nature receives the Heavenly Way, so the original nature of humanity is also cheng.
3. The essence of cheng is "cannot be concealed" — what is real will eventually manifest.
4. Therefore, the key to cultivation lies in "watchfulness in solitude" — maintaining sincerity in the most hidden moments, because those are precisely the places where things are most easily revealed.
5. If one can be watchful in solitude, then inner and outer are unified; when inner and outer are unified, "sincerity within manifests without"; and when this occurs, one reaches the natural state of "the subtle becomes manifest" — without deliberate effort, virtue naturally flows from within.

This accords precisely with the argument of the chapter on "the virtue of ghosts and spirits." Spirits do not need to "perform" themselves (they cannot even be seen or heard), yet their cheng (the genuine function of embodying things without omission) naturally manifests between Heaven and Earth, compelling reverence from all. Similarly, the noble person need not deliberately parade their virtue — as long as their heart is of utmost sincerity, virtue will "irrepressibly" manifest of its own accord.