大體

Those in antiquity who preserved the grand structure gazed upon heaven and earth, observed the rivers and seas, followed the mountains and valleys -- all that the sun and moon illumine, all that the four seasons traverse, all that the clouds spread and the winds stir. They did not burden their minds with cleverness, nor encumber themselves with private interests. They entrusted order and disorder to the law and to techniques; they assigned right and wrong to rewards and punishments; they delegated weightiness and lightness to the balance and scale.

They did not oppose the natural order, nor injure innate dispositions. They did not blow apart the fur to seek tiny blemishes, nor scrub away grime to inspect what is hard to know. They did not pull the plumb-line beyond its reach, nor push it within its compass. They did not hasten what lies beyond the law, nor slacken what lies within it. They preserved established principles and followed nature. Misfortune and fortune arose from the Way and the law, not from personal love and hate. The responsibility for honor and disgrace lay with oneself, not with others.

Therefore, in the age of perfect security, the law was like morning dew -- pure and unspoiled, never scattered. Hearts harbored no knotted resentments; mouths uttered no weary complaints. Horses and chariots were not worn out on distant roads; banners and flags were not disordered in great marshes. The myriad people did not lose their lives to invaders, and fine steeds did not have their lifespans cut short beneath battle standards. Heroes and champions did not inscribe their names in books, nor record their deeds on bronze vessels. The annals of the years were empty.

Hence it is said: no benefit lasts longer than simplicity; no blessing endures longer than security.

Suppose you gave the master craftsman Shi a lifespan of a thousand years, had him take up his hook, consult his compass and square, raise his ink-line, and set about straightening Mount Tai. Suppose you had Meng Ben and Xia Yu gird on the sword Ganjiang and set about regulating the myriad people. Though they exhausted their skill in craft and their fullest measure of years, Mount Tai would not be straightened, and the people could not be regulated.

Hence it is said: those in antiquity who shepherded All-Under-Heaven did not make the master craftsman exhaust his skill to ruin the substance of Mount Tai, nor make the strongmen exhaust their might to injure the nature of the myriad people. They followed the Way and perfected the law. The noble man found joy, and great villainy ceased. Tranquil and quietly at ease, they followed Heaven's mandate and held fast to the grand structure. Thus people were kept from the crime of departing from the law, and fish were kept from the disaster of leaving the water. In this way, nothing under Heaven was left wanting.

If the ruler above is not like Heaven, then below he cannot cover all. If the mind is not like Earth, then it cannot bear all things. Mount Tai does not establish preferences, and so it can achieve its height. The rivers and seas do not reject small tributaries, and so they can achieve their abundance.

Thus the great man entrusts his form to heaven and earth, and the myriad things are provided for; he extends his mind to the mountains and seas, and the state grows wealthy. Above there is no poison of fury and rage; below there is no calamity of hidden resentment. Above and below are mutually compliant, taking the Way as their dwelling. Thus lasting benefits accumulate, great achievements are established, a name is made in one's own time, and virtue is transmitted to posterity. This is the perfection of governance.