Dwelling, One Observes the Images; Acting, One Observes the Changes -- Reading the Chapter "The Sage Established the Hexagrams and Observed the Images" from the Upper Xici
A line-by-line reading of the second chapter of the Upper Xici. The sage's four acts -- establishing the hexagrams, observing the images, appending the statements, clarifying fortune and misfortune -- run in exact reverse order to the noble person's four acts -- observing the images, savoring the statements, observing the changes, savoring the divination. The four clauses "is the image of..." form a chain tracing effect back to cause; "the repose in which he dwells" echoes the Doctrine of the Mean's "dwelling in ease, awaiting the Mandate"; and the chapter closes by quoting the top line of hexagram Da You, "From Heaven comes its aid," gathering the whole into the two words compliance and good faith. Grounded in Confucian and Daoist thought, and drawing on the Analects, Mencius, Laozi, Zhuangzi, Xunzi, and the Zuo Tradition, it explores how the noble person finds repose between Heaven and Earth and acts amid change.
3 Fortune and Misfortune, Regret and Remorse: Result and Process
3.1 Loss and Gain, and Minor Flaws
3.1.1 The Stratification of Chapter Three
This chapter says, "fortune and misfortune are the images of loss and gain; regret and remorse are the images of anxious care." The very next chapter, the third chapter of the Upper Xici, says: "Fortune and misfortune speak of loss and gain. Regret and remorse speak of minor flaws. Being without blame speaks of being skilled at mending one's faults." Reading the two chapters together, the stratification among fortune and misfortune, regret and remorse, and being without blame becomes clear.
Fortune and misfortune speak of loss and gain, an already-completed result. Regret and remorse speak of minor flaws, small defects that have not yet become a major loss. Being without blame speaks of being skilled at mending faults, of having repaired the minor flaw before it falls into loss. The three form three stages of a single process: the minor flaw is the starting point, mending the fault is the middle, and loss or gain is the endpoint. If the minor flaw goes unmended, it proceeds to loss and becomes misfortune; if the minor flaw can be mended, one is without blame and may move toward fortune.
With this distinction made, the place of regret and remorse becomes clear. Regret and remorse are neither fortune nor misfortune; they are the stretch between the two. They are process, not result. This chapter calls regret and remorse the "image of anxious care" precisely because anxious care is a state of mind within the process, not a judgment on the result. When a person feels apprehension and holds certain misgivings while a matter is under way, this is regret and remorse. Only with this apprehension does one go on to mend one's faults; only once the fault is mended does one become without blame.
The Lower Xici says: "To hold fast to caution from beginning to end, with being without blame as the essential point -- this is called the Way of the Changes." To maintain caution from start to finish, with being without blame as the crux, is the Way of the Changes. Here "caution" is this chapter's "anxious care," and "being without blame" is the goal toward which regret and remorse point. The Way of the Changes does not lie in seeking fortune; it lies in being without blame. And the path to being without blame must pass through the anxious care of regret and remorse.
3.1.2 "One May Be Without Great Fault"
The Master said, "Grant me a few more years, that at fifty I might study the Changes, and I may be without great fault." This line can be read together with the stratification above. What the Master sought in studying the Changes was not great fortune, but to "be without great fault." Faults come in greater and lesser degrees: a great fault is this chapter's "loss," a lesser fault is a "minor flaw." That studying the Changes can bring one to be without great fault means that studying the Changes can transform a great fault into a lesser one, and then transform that lesser fault into being without blame.
This line reveals how the Master used the Changes. He did not use it to seek fortune and avoid misfortune, but to reduce his own faults. This accords entirely with the Xici's "hold fast to caution from beginning to end, with being without blame as the essential point." The person who studies the Changes does not think, "how can I attain fortune," but "how can I have fewer faults." The anxious care of regret and remorse is precisely the expression of this mind bent on having fewer faults.
The Master also said: "That virtue is not cultivated, that learning is not discussed, that on hearing what is right I am unable to move toward it, that what is not good I am unable to change -- these are my cares." The Master's care is the care of being unable to correct one's faults. This "care" is the very same "anxious" of this chapter's "regret and remorse are the images of anxious care." The noble person is not afraid of having faults; what he fears is being unable to correct them. Only with a mind of anxious care does he go on to correct them. So in the Changes, regret and remorse are not a bad omen; they are, rather, a sign that a fault can be corrected. On reading the word "regret," one need not hang one's head in dejection, but should recognize that here lies a fault that can still be mended.
3.2 Anxious Care: The Underlying Tone of the Changes
3.2.1 "Did the Maker of the Changes Have Anxious Care$7"
The Lower Xici says: "Did the Changes arise in middle antiquity$8 Did its makers have anxious care$9" The maker of the Changes carried anxious care in his heart. This line points to the underlying tone of the entire Changes. The Changes is not a book of ease and comfort; it is a book of anxious care. Its author dwelt amid trouble and care, and so its statements are largely ones of caution and apprehension.
This chapter's "regret and remorse are the images of anxious care" is precisely this underlying tone expressed in a single line. The statements of regret and remorse are the maker's anxious care taking concrete form within the hexagrams and lines. To read regret and remorse is to read the maker's anxious care. When the noble person savors the statements, what he savors is precisely this anxious care.
The Lower Xici also says: "Did the Changes arise in the final age of Yin, at the height of Zhou's virtue$10 Did it pertain to the affair between King Wen and King Zhou$11 This is why its statements convey peril. Those who feel peril are made secure; those who feel at ease are made to topple. Its Way is very great, and no affair is beyond its reach." That "its statements convey peril" means the language of the Changes is filled with a sense of danger and caution. "Those who feel peril are made secure" means that those who hold a sense of danger in their hearts are, in the end, made secure. "Those who feel at ease are made to topple" means that those who hold a careless ease in their hearts are, in the end, brought to ruin. These two lines lay bare the true function of anxious care: anxious care is not meant to trap a person in sorrow, but to bring a person, through anxious care, to security.
3.2.2 "Those Who Feel Peril Are Made Secure; Those Who Feel at Ease Are Made to Topple"
These eight characters, "those who feel peril are made secure; those who feel at ease are made to topple," are the finest gloss on the meaning of regret and remorse. Both regret and remorse are minor flaws, both are a form of peril. Yet to know the peril brings security, while not to know it brings toppling. So the statements of regret and remorse in the Changes offer a person the chance to turn things around. A single word "regret" says: here a minor flaw already exists; if one is alert to it, one can attain security; if one is not alert to it, one will topple.
Master Meng said: "Those who possess virtue, wisdom, skill, and knowledge generally attain them amid affliction and hardship. It is the solitary minister and the son of a concubine, whose minds are exercised in peril and whose apprehension of trouble runs deep, who therefore attain understanding." Those whose minds are exercised in peril and whose apprehension of trouble runs deep are, precisely for that reason, able to attain understanding. This is the very same principle as "those who feel peril are made secure." Master Meng also said: "From this one knows that one is kept alive by trouble and care, and brought to ruin by ease and comfort." Trouble and care keep a person alive; ease and comfort bring a person to ruin. Trouble and care are this chapter's "anxious care"; ease and comfort are the Xici's "ease."
The Most High said, "Calamity is what blessing leans upon; blessing is what calamity hides within." Within calamity there is blessing; within blessing there is calamity. This too is the principle of pushing against each other, expressed in terms of calamity and blessing. To know that calamity hides within blessing is to keep anxious care alive even amid blessing; to know that blessing leans upon calamity is not to despair amid calamity. The Most High also said, "To know contentment brings no disgrace; to know when to stop brings no danger." To know contentment and know when to stop is to keep anxious care alive even in the midst of gain, and thereby to keep fortune from turning into misfortune. On this point of trouble and care, Confucianism and Daoism are again in accord.
3.3 The Position of Man Holds Much Misfortune and Much Apprehension
3.3.1 "The Third Line Holds Much Misfortune, the Fourth Much Apprehension"
Here we may venture an exploration. Immediately after "the image of anxious care," this chapter says, "the motion of the six lines is the Way of the Three Ultimates." The three ultimates are Heaven, Earth, and Man. The six lines combine the Three Powers, doubling each: the first and second lines are the position of Earth, the third and fourth the position of Man, and the fifth and top the position of Heaven. So the position of Man is the third and fourth lines.
A passage in the Lower Xici discusses line positions in particular: "The second and fourth lines share the same function but differ in position; their excellence differs -- the second holds much praise, the fourth much apprehension, on account of its nearness to the ruling fifth line. As for the way of the yielding, it is not advantageous to be far off; its essential point is to be without blame, its function lying in yielding centrality. The third and fifth lines share the same function but differ in position; the third holds much misfortune, the fifth much achievement, this being the gradation of noble and humble." The third holds much misfortune, the fourth much apprehension. The third and fourth lines are precisely the position of Man. The very position that Man occupies is, among all six lines, the one holding the most misfortune and the most apprehension.
This is no coincidence. Man stands between Heaven and Earth, reaching neither up to Heaven nor down to Earth, occupying the middle. The middle position is the hardest to hold. Too far up, and one usurps Heaven's position; too far down, and one sinks into Earth's position. For Man to find repose in this middle ground, he must necessarily hold much apprehension. And much apprehension is precisely this chapter's "anxious care." Anxious care is not some incidental mood; it is Man's very condition within the Three Ultimates. The position of Man holds much misfortune and much apprehension, and so Man needs the statements of regret and remorse to keep him alert.
Taking this layer together with the stratification discussed earlier: regret and remorse are minor flaws, are anxious care; the position of Man is the third and fourth lines, holding much misfortune and much apprehension. Anxious care is the constant state of the position of Man. The noble person, dwelling in the position of Man, cannot but hold anxious care. But it is precisely because of this anxious care that "those who feel peril are made secure" becomes possible. The very abundance of misfortune and apprehension in the position of Man turns out to be Man's opportunity to be without blame. This is a profound consolation the Changes offers to human beings: the position you occupy is inherently difficult, so the difficulty is not your fault; but precisely because it is difficult, your anxious care has value.
3.3.2 "A Lifelong Care, but No Single Morning's Trouble"
Master Meng said: "Therefore the noble person has a lifelong care, but no single morning's trouble." The noble person carries a lifetime of care, yet not a single day's calamity. This line states the relationship between anxious care and fortune and misfortune as clearly as possible. The lifelong care is this chapter's anxious care, the vigilance the noble person holds each day while dwelling in the position of Man, savoring the statements, and observing the images. "No single morning's trouble" is this chapter's closing phrase, "fortune, and nothing but advantage" -- the result that this vigilance brings.
Because there is a lifelong care, there is no single morning's trouble; were there no lifelong care, a single morning's trouble would surely follow. Care and trouble push against each other: the more care, the less trouble; the less care, the more trouble. This is the very same principle as "those who feel peril are made secure; those who feel at ease are made to topple," and it accords with the order of the four clauses "is the image of..." read in reverse: anxious care comes first, loss and gain come after. Anxious care is the cause; loss and gain are the result.
This line of Master Meng's reveals something further: the noble person's care is "lifelong," not occasional. This matches the Xici's "hold fast to caution from beginning to end." Anxious care is not something that arises only when a matter is at hand; it persists continuously from beginning to end. This chapter says, "dwelling, the noble person observes the images and savors their statements" -- while dwelling, he is already observing the images and savoring the statements, already apprehending the anxious care within them. This is the everyday form that a lifelong care takes. Care is not a bad mood; it is the noble person's reverence and awe toward Heaven and Earth while he dwells in the position of Man. Only with this reverence and awe can he, upon acting, "observe the changes and savor the divination," so that his advance and withdrawal never lose the proper moment, and he is left with no single morning's trouble.