《太上感应篇》

Your servant Yingwei respectfully submits: I hold the Dao in reverence, understand and honor it deeply, and greatly admire the maxims spoken by the Most High. The scripture has now been fully engraved and printed, and a long-held wish of mine has, by good fortune, been fulfilled. I venture to submit this memorial, humbly repaying Your Majesty’s kindness. Your servant is overcome with trepidation and bows twice.

I have privately observed that among the scriptures in the Daoist Canon is this precious admonition. With compassion, it rescues the people of the world and earnestly teaches them again and again, explaining how good and evil bring fitting consequences. It is like a pivot that turns and sets a mechanism in motion; the arrival of fortune or calamity follows as swiftly as a shadow. The scripture’s twelve hundred words offer earnest counsel that will remain clear for all generations. Yet its teachings must be expounded by wise rulers and worthy ministers if the people are to be guided toward the right path.

I respectfully reflect that Your Majesty governs the realm with measured ease while diligently studying the classics. You devote yourself to the Six Confucian Classics and seek widely among the books; you probe the profound and mysterious principles, carrying on the example of the sage ancestors who sought instruction in the Dao. You use the way of clarity and stillness to guide the people, surpassing the practice of the Han emperors of old. In the intervals between affairs of state, you attend to the relationship between the Way of Heaven and human affairs. Intending to put this book into circulation and ensure its lasting transmission, you gathered related material and compiled it in full.

The teachings conveyed in the hexagram diagrams of Fuxi are given prominence and placed before the eight-character title; the account and praise of Gan Pan, tutor to an emperor, are likewise known as the distinct view of a single school. Now this book shines within its case and has, by good fortune, received the court’s esteem. Your servant is low in rank and mediocre in ability, no more than a plain man from the countryside. How could I be worthy to take part in purification and cultivation at a temple? Yet my name has been listed before the court. In the past, I was promoted beyond my station into the religious order; now, too, I have received the Emperor’s command and been dispatched. Favored with a grant of gold, I was entrusted with overseeing the carving and printing of the scripture. I vow to do all I can, however little, to show some measure of gratitude for this kindness.

Mindful of my late father, I have often feared that this classic would be lost. Yet after it endured a fire, the Daoist Way was made all the more manifest. The work of overseeing its transcription and printing is now complete. I have respectfully sealed the volumes, offered incense to them, and present them with reverence. I humbly hope Your Majesty will look upon this book with favor and circulate it throughout the land, so that all the people may turn toward good conduct and willingly accept its teaching. In this way the book may help set the world aright, and your servant may be said not to have failed the hopes of ruler and teacher.

Your servant respectfully presents, together with this memorial, one eight-volume set of the engraved, imperial-titled Supreme Lord’s Scripture on Response and Retribution. Your servant Yingwei is overcome with trepidation and bows twice. I respectfully submit this memorial.

On an unspecified day in the eighth month of the sixth year of Shaoding (1233), the official Hu Yingwei, Right Street Inspector of Rites, supervisor of religious affairs, and incense burner and practitioner at the Palace of the Great One, submitted this memorial.

The Scripture of the Most High on Response and Retribution, Volume Two

Transmitted by Li Changling, with a eulogy by Zheng Qingzhi.

Loyalty and Filial Piety

The transmitted text says: The Lord of Fate in the Eastern Palace, a deity who governs people’s fortunes and lifespans, says that there was someone with talent like Xiao Miao, whose reputation far surpassed that of others. Yet he nurtured a noble, righteous spirit and did not seek wealth or status. He was upright and incorruptible in the highest degree: he did not eat food that was not his, nor wear clothing that did not belong to him. The splendor of luxury could not disturb his righteous spirit, and even the majesty and power of the ruler could not…

Some people, through their own integrity and steadfast conduct, or because their ancestors performed meritorious deeds whose blessings extended to later generations, may undergo cultivation across generations, transform their bodies, even change their surnames and be reborn in a new age. In the end, they may receive a divine response, meet the standards of immortal virtue, and be admitted to the ranks of the immortals. This, however, often takes many years, with progress coming gradually.

As for those who are supremely loyal or filial, tradition says that if they die today, they may be appointed tomorrow to an official post in the underworld; after serving there, they can quickly advance through the ranks of the immortals. In general, loyalty is the fundamental virtue required of a subject, while filial piety is the duty of children. If subjects are all disloyal, what can a ruler expect from them? If children are all unfilial, what can parents expect from them? In that case, the proper bonds between ruler and subject, and the ethical relations between parent and child, would be lost. People who are no better than animals would become like uncivilized peoples. What a pity that people do not know loyalty and filial piety are the foundation for salvation and release from worldly transmigration. For anyone who hopes to attain deliverance and become an immortal, no path is faster. Have you not heard of the stories of Lord Lü Gonghui and Lan Qi?

Long ago, Lü Gonghui served as Censor-in-Chief, an official responsible for overseeing the affairs of the court. He was upright and fearless in speaking his mind, and his words shook the court and the country. One day, as he sat alone, he was delighted to see a figure in blue robes present him with a pill. “This is a Cooling Pill,” the figure said. “The Lord of Heaven will soon travel south to the Land of Flame, and has ordered you to inspect and discipline the immortals there. The climate is scorching, so this pill is granted to you in advance.” Lü Gonghui bowed in thanks and swallowed the pill. As it went down, it cooled him like ice and snow. Before long, he indeed passed away.

At that time, Zhu Mingfu had just passed the presented scholar examination. He encountered Lü Gonghui on the Xiang River and saw him riding a deer with jade antlers. A blue-robed attendant stood beside him, while hundreds of officials and soldiers surrounded him before and behind. Zhu Mingfu stepped forward and paid his respects. “Have you already become an immortal?” he asked. Lü Gonghui replied, “I am on my way to attend the Lord of Heaven on his southern journey; there is no time to explain.” Then he casually recited a poem:

“By chance, my merits and deeds are entered in the jade register of Heaven;

Countless officials are buried beneath the dust of the world.

Now I follow the Lord as an inspector;

Who, then, will serve at the Cypress Terrace?”

The poem means that his merits and deeds had been recorded in Heaven’s jade register, while the many officials of the human world would ultimately be buried in dust. Now that he was following the Lord of Heaven as an inspector, who would be appointed to preside over the Censorate? With that, he vanished.

Lan Qi’s family had practiced filial piety and affection between brothers for generations. More than a hundred people lived together in harmony, with almost no disputes between those above and below. One night, a Perfected One descended from the Dipper constellation and said, “I am the King of Filial Piety and Brotherhood in the Dipper. Filial piety reaches Heaven, and the sun and moon shine brightly because of it; it reaches Earth, and plants and trees grow because of it; it reaches the human world, and the Way of the Ruler is fulfilled because of it. You practice filial piety and affection, so I have come to see you in person. Since you have been granted the sight of me, you will surely attain the Dao.” Lan Qi later attained the Dao and became an immortal, just as the Perfected One had foretold.

This shows that those who are supremely loyal and filial can indeed quickly escape the world and attain deliverance as immortals. Alas, if people of loyalty and filial piety receive such blessings, what will become of those who are disloyal and unfilial?

The eulogy says: If one does not fulfill one’s duty of loyalty, one does not know how to respect one’s ruler; if one does not fulfill one’s duty of filial piety, one does not know how to honor and love one’s family. To abandon these two virtues is to be no different from birds and beasts. Zhuang Zhou (Zhuangzi) acted with great freedom, yet still observed social roles and moral principles; the Buddhist tradition teaches emptiness and still diligently repays kindness. Since people live between Heaven and Earth, how can they escape the responsibilities they owe?

Loving One’s Brothers.

The Analects says: “A noble person devotes effort to the roots. When the roots are established, the Dao will grow. Filial devotion to parents and respect for elder brothers—these are perhaps the roots of benevolence.” The Divine Commissioner of Fates, who oversees people’s destinies and records their good and evil deeds, regards the relationships between parent and child, elder and younger brother, and husband and wife as the Three Bonds—the three basic relationships that sustain human society. “Roots” and “bonds” are different words, but their meanings are connected. If the roots are abandoned and the bonds cast aside, how can human relationships be ordered?

In general, when people put these principles into practice, relationships between those above and below them can remain stable, harmonious, and enduring. But if they care only for outward appearances, regret and wrongdoing readily follow, and relationships are bound to fall apart.

Long ago, a man named Yao Qiyun lived in modest circumstances, supporting himself entirely by farming and raising silkworms. When he was three, his father went to guard a distant frontier in place of his elder brother, who had no sons, and died there. When Qiyun grew up, he brought his father’s coffin home for burial, lived beside the grave through the mourning period, and remembered his father all his life. The county magistrate Su Che used his own salary to buy land, repair the path to the tomb, and erect an inscribed stone to honor Qiyun’s conduct. The prefect Hunjian also reported the matter to the court. The emperor issued an edict praising the family, bestowed an honorific name on its household, named its village “Filial Piety and Fraternal Devotion,” its community “Integrity and Righteousness,” and its neighborhood “Love and Respect.”

Beginning with Yao Qiyun, fifteen generations of his family lived together. The clan grew to several hundred people, and for more than three hundred years no one proposed dividing the household. Even amid the warfare of the Five Dynasties period, his descendants guarded the ancestral graves and did not scatter. Another man, Zhang Cheng, also came from a farming family. Several generations of his clan lived together, numbering more than 170 people. They were harmonious within and without, with almost no disputes. Household clothes and other belongings were not treated as any one person’s private property. Each morning, the head of the family sat in the main hall while the younger generations stood below in order, respectfully receiving their assigned tasks and carrying them out with diligence. From Zuguan to Zhang Cheng, six generations shared one household, and this continued for nearly two hundred years.

Alas, these two families truly put their principles into practice. Could those who observe only the outward forms of ritual achieve such a thing?

The eulogy says: Parents’ bodies give rise to brothers; brothers come from the same lineage and were originally one body. How, then, can they regard one another as strangers? To care for the branches and leaves is to protect the roots. The histories once mocked beans and stalks as they burned one another, while the Book of Songs praised the flowering Chinese quince as an image of brotherly harmony. Brothers should live in affection and concord, and the spirits will protect that joy.

Only by setting one’s own conduct straight can one transform others.

An ancient book says that Confucius believed a gentleman should keep his clothing and headwear in order; if a mat was not laid straight, he would not sit on it. If clothing and a mat must be set right, how much more should a person’s words and actions be? Confucius also said, “If you lead by example and act uprightly, who would dare not to be upright?” He also said, “If you cannot set yourself straight, how can you set others straight?” These are important principles by which the sages cultivated themselves and conducted themselves in the world. How could anyone live among others without acting uprightly? Only those who conduct themselves rightly will be respected by the people. Once people feel respect, their hearts have already been transformed. Why labor to persuade them to change?

In the past, Sima Wengong—Sima Guang, posthumously honored as Wenzheng of the State of Wen—was an upright man whose reputation spread throughout the land. When he lived in Luoyang, the local customs changed with him: people honored ritual and instruction and were not eager to pursue profit. Rich and poor alike were content with their lives. Young people understood reverence and shame, and before doing anything they would often remind one another, “Don’t do anything wrong, lest Sima Duanming—Sima Guang, who once served as an Academician in the Duanming Hall—find out.”

Duke Shen, Lü Gongzhu, a high official of the Northern Song who was enfeoffed as Duke of the State of Shen, was upright and outspoken, and his reputation stirred the court and the countryside. At the time, Wang Anshi was serving as prefect of Changzhou. He once wrote to Lü Gongzhu: “During my two years in office in the capital, I accumulated many selfish thoughts and resentments, and often could not keep them in check. But whenever I see you, Elder, those thoughts vanish. The bearing of a person of high virtue can quiet the distracting thoughts in others’ hearts. Now, when I meet Duke Lü in Rongyang, my mind grows calm and my heart becomes clear and settled.” When Lü Gongzhu served as a lecturer in the Chongzheng Hall, explaining the classics and histories to the emperor, he advised him each day on setting the heart straight and cultivating oneself. He often said, “If one cultivates oneself well and keeps one’s heart upright, the world will naturally be transformed without any other means.” Thus, wherever he went, the impatient became even-tempered; when people heard of his reputation, even those of shallow character became more honest and generous.

When Hu Yuan served as an instructor in Suzhou and Huzhou, whenever he explained the essential teachings of the classics, he earnestly told his students how they should cultivate themselves before governing others. From this, what can you learn about setting yourselves straight? If you use your own uprightness to transform others, who would not be affected?

The commentary says: When a marker is set upright, its shadow is straight; when the source is clear, the stream runs clear. There is no sense in trying to correct others while one’s own conduct is improper. What secret did the sages possess? They simply put these principles into practice in themselves and extended them to others. If you have faults of your own but punish others, everyone in the army will laugh at you. Read the Way of self-cultivation taught in the Great Learning, and your household will be in order and your state well governed.

Show compassion to orphans.

Classical books say that an “orphan” is a child whose parents die early, before the child has reached adulthood. Sometimes the mother dies and the father takes another wife; sometimes the father dies and the mother remarries; and sometimes both parents die, leaving a young child alone and without support. How could such misfortune fail to cause distress? Even caregivers who feel compassion can hardly offer orphans the closeness and affection of their own parents. Do they not deserve our sympathy?

People know only that orphans are easily looked down upon, but they do not realize that some, precisely because they are on their own, can temper themselves into exceptional talents. Zhang Shixun, a distinguished official of the Northern Song, lost both parents while still an infant. When he grew up, he accepted his poverty, studied diligently, and never slackened. He later passed the jinshi examination and rose to the highest offices at court, earning a reputation for virtue. Though he was an orphan born into poverty, he became so self-reliant. Was he not destined for great achievement?

Lü Hui, an official of the Northern Song, lost his father in childhood. He resolved to pursue his studies and did not casually make friends. Many people in Luoyang did not know him. Only after he passed the jinshi examination did people learn that he was the grandson of Duke Zhenghui Lü, Lü Mengzheng. He later served in several posts as an admonition official and became known for his steadfast integrity. Though he was an orphan from a prominent family, he became so self-reliant. Was he not destined for great achievement?

Given this, how can orphans be looked down upon? Under the heading “Show Compassion to Orphans,” I have deliberately included these examples so that those who have suffered the misfortune of becoming orphans may take them as models and learn to summon their resolve and encourage themselves. As for showing compassion to orphans, earlier generations already regarded it as an ordinary good deed and thought nothing of it as extraordinary.

Zha, who once held the post of Director of the Longtu Pavilion, came from a very poor family, yet took in and supported relatives who had no one to rely on. He gave away his salary and rewards as soon as he received them, and soon had nothing left. He formed deep bonds with others and showed particular kindness to those who had been abandoned and left destitute. Once, he heard that a colleague’s daughter had been forced by her family’s poverty to become a servant. He paid to redeem her, then arranged her marriage into a family of scholars and officials. Lü Duan, Duke Zhenghui, and the former prime minister Feng Dao, along with Zhao Wendu, the governor of Yaozhou, were fellow townsmen and family friends for generations. When Feng Dao’s son became disabled, Lü Duan used his own salary to support him. He also recommended Zhao Wendu’s son, Shaozong, to the court. Without sincere compassion and care for those left helpless and alone, how could anyone do such things?

In praise: .

When a child is orphaned at a young age, who can they depend on, and who can they rely upon? No one is there to hold and care for them; when they fall ill, who will look after them? Cherish your own children, but cherish other people’s children as well. Other people’s sons and daughters are also their parents’ children. In the past, one person disobeyed an order and set a pregnant doe free; another, moved by pity for a fawn, wept and could not bring himself to release his arrow. Extending such compassion to others is in keeping with the principles of Heaven.

Show compassion for widows.

An old book says: “Widow” refers to a woman in the prime of life whose husband has suddenly died. Left alone and without support, she sees everything around her as desolate and helpless. What is more, there may be young, ignorant children at home, and many things still left unsettled. This is what Mencius called being “destitute and with no one to appeal to”: trapped in hardship, with nowhere to turn and no one to help. To suffer such a calamity—is this not the deepest kind of misery? To have no one to whom she can speak her heart—is this not to be utterly without support or recourse? Though the husband has died, how could he, in the world of the dead, have no concern at all for his wife and children?

Long ago, Xu Zezhi held office in the capital. Zhao Shihuang came from Renxing to seek his help and stayed as his secretary. Zhao Shihuang got along well with Xu Zezhi’s three sons. Before long, Zhao Shihuang suddenly fell ill and died. Xu Zezhi and his sons arranged his funeral, provided travel expenses, and gave generous assistance to his wife and children. They also sent the clerk Zhao Yi to escort them back to the capital.

When Zhao Yi returned after completing the task and reported back, he suddenly spoke in Zhao Shihuang’s voice and thanked Xu Zezhi: “Shihuang did not take good care of himself, and entered the register of the dead in the prime of life. Thanks to the devoted care of you and your sons, not only were my remains able to return home, but my aged mother, wife, and children also arrived safely, without the hardship of being left to wander. I am deeply grateful. The spirits of the underworld, too, admire and praise this deed, and will surely reward you generously in the future.” (“The register of the dead” refers to the records of the underworld; “the lord of the underworld” refers to its spirits.)

The palace official Huang Shu received an imperial order to escort fans and handkerchiefs and meet an envoy from the north at Pengze. On the way, the boatman Wang Gui died. His boat belonged to the Two Zhejiang Transport Office, the government agency responsible for grain transport, and according to regulations it had to be returned to the authorities after his death. His wife wept and said, “If the boat is taken back, our family of ten will go hungry and may not even survive. I beg you to speak on our behalf, so that Wang Gui’s eldest son can take over his father’s work as a boatman. I would be forever grateful.”

When Huang Shu reached Zhenjiang, he told the transport officials what had happened. That same day, one of them registered Wang Gui’s eldest son as a soldier and let him take over his father’s boat. That night, Huang Shu stayed in Danyang. In a dream, Wang Gui came rowing toward him from afar in a small boat, through misty waters. Weeping, he bowed and said, “Though I have died, my eldest son can now carry on my livelihood, and the ten members of my family need no longer worry. We are truly indebted to your kindness.” Then he disappeared.

These deeds were certainly remarkable, but I will set them aside for now. In private, I have observed that some widows resolve to remain faithful and raise their children, surpassing many others in these virtues. For that reason, I cannot leave them unrecorded.

Zhao Gai lost his father when he was seven. His mother remained steadfast in her widowhood and devoted herself to educating him. In the end, he placed third in the imperial examinations in the fifth year of the Tiansheng era. Later, when the court issued a grant of favor that, under the rules, could be used to confer an official title on a son, Zhao Gai asked to use it to request the title of Commandery Grand Dame for his mother. The chief minister said, “You are a Hanlin academician; you will soon receive a title yourself.” Zhao Gai replied, “My mother is already eighty-two. No one knows what may happen from one day to the next. I hope to bring her honor while there is still time.” The court granted his request.

Li Jun lost his father when he was three. His mother, Lady Qin, was exceptionally beautiful. When someone urged her to remarry, she angrily rebuked them: “The bond between husband and wife belongs to the order of human relationships; life and death are governed by Heaven. I would rather starve to death than marry again.” She then devoted herself to raising Li Jun. He later passed the imperial examinations and rose to become the chief official of Yaozhou.

From this, we can see how lightly a widow’s circumstances should be regarded. I have recorded these stories after “Show compassion for widows” so that widows everywhere may know of examples they can follow. Heaven will surely reward women like these, because they value the bonds of human relationships. And the blessings they receive will amount to far more than having a son attain high rank.

To live alone and remain steadfast in one’s moral integrity is held in high regard by worthy and wise people. Some have had their leg bones broken, their sinews exposed; the chastity of women is especially resolute. Others have built high platforms to honor those remembered for their purity—an act of loyalty carried out even under the violent Qin. How much more moving, then, are those who have no one to rely on? Whoever tramples on them will find that they neither fear nor retreat.

Respecting the Elderly

An old book says: The elderly have experienced the world for a long time and seen many things. Generations of young people have come and gone, and who knows how many have fallen into ruin and perished. Yet the elderly, with thick eyebrows and snow-white hair, remain healthy and strong. Is that not worthy of respect?

In the early Kaibao era, Xu Yong, assistant magistrate of Lu County in Yun Prefecture, submitted a petition explaining his circumstances. His father, Xu Qiong, was ninety-seven; his eldest brother was eighty-one, his second eldest brother seventy-nine, and Xu Yong himself seventy-five. He hoped to receive an assignment near home so that he could care for his father. Emperor Taizu summoned Xu Qiong. When Xu Qiong arrived, he answered questions clearly and quickly, and neither his speech nor his bearing showed any decline. Taizu held him in great respect and said, “Everyone in your family has lived so long. You must have some exceptional quality.” Xu Qiong replied, “There is nothing special. Several generations have simply lived together, upheld what is right, and made no distinctions between one another.” Taizu said, “That is precisely what makes you exceptional.” He then ordered that Xu Qiong be given clothes, a belt, a silver-decorated saddle and bridle, a horse, thirty jin of imperial tea, and thirty bolts of assorted silk. He also arranged an assignment for Xu Yong near home, so that he could care for his family as he wished.

Wu Yuansi also lived to a great age. When the court registered the elderly for the emperor’s birthday, only Wu Yuansi’s household had members aged eighty and ninety, along with eight people over a hundred. One of them, Wu Wan, was a hundred and fourteen. He still walked with light, steady steps, and his strength had not noticeably diminished. When the court asked the family the secret of their longevity, they too said that several generations lived together, upheld what was right, and made no distinctions between one another. The emperor issued an edict granting them official titles and honoring them at their gate. Outside the gate, he also had two earthen platforms built to commemorate their righteousness and harmony, and two ornamental pillars erected to honor the family with special distinction. If even the emperor showed such respect for the elderly, how much more should ordinary people do so?

I once examined the ages of high-ranking officials in our dynasty who lived long lives: Zhang Tuichuan reached ninety-one, Wen Lugong ninety-two, Zhao Kangjing eighty-six, Zhang Wending eighty-five, and Chen Wenhui eighty-two. Zeng Xuanjing and Fu Wenzhong both lived past eighty. Among those who lived past seventy were Zhao Qingxian, Pang Zhuangmin, Xiang Wenjian, and Li Wenzheng. Cao Wuhui, Xue Jiansu, Wang Yimin, Lü Wenmu, Lü Wenhui, and Kou Wenmin all lived past sixty. Shen, the remonstrance official, died at exactly sixty; Liu, the Academician, at exactly fifty. Wang, the Hanlin Academician, Yin, the Secretariat Drafter, Wang, the Court Attendant, and Qian Xuanjing all lived past forty. Shi Culai died at exactly forty, Su, the Hanlin Academician, at thirty-nine, Zhao, the Secretariat Drafter, at thirty-six, and Wang, the Censor, at thirty-eight. Their deaths are especially regrettable.

Life amid the pursuit of fame and profit passes in the blink of an eye. How many people truly find time in their lives to cultivate themselves and do good? If they fail to do so, they have come into the world in vain and spent their lives rushing about for nothing. They will also have missed the aspiration expressed in Buddhist words: “May I live long and diligently practice every good deed; may my blessings and virtue abound, so that I can help all people.”

Alas, young people rely on their talent and look down on the elderly, unaware that longevity ranks first among the Five Blessings. Even outstanding talent is of little use if one does not live long enough to put it to work.

Long ago, Yang Dayan served in the palace alongside Zhou Han and Zhu Ang. Zhou and Zhu were both already old, while Yang Dayan was barely twenty. He often looked down on them. Zhou Han was angry, and once advised him, “Do not look down on me for being old. You, too, will one day grow old.” Zhu Ang shook his hand beside him and said, “Say no more, say no more.” Yang Dayan later lived only to the age of forty-nine. In light of this, is it easy to live to old age? Are the elderly not worthy of respect?

The verse says: Treat and respect the elderly as you would your own kin. This is a priority for both families and the state. Heaven grants the elderly long life, until their hair turns white. To fail to respect them is to show disrespect toward Heaven. How much more, then, should we treat them with courtesy, given the virtue they have accumulated?

Care for the young.

The Analects records Confucius as saying, “Care for the young.” Mencius likewise said, “Love your own children, and extend that love to the children of others.” The young are still in childhood and lack experience, so it is right for their elders to cherish and care for them. To abuse children goes against humaneness. Parents should therefore devote themselves to caring for their young children, and older brothers should treat their younger brothers with affection. When they see the children of other families, they should extend their care to them as well, without treating them differently according to how close or distant the relationship is. To love only one’s own children and not those of others is not to have truly cared for the young.

Children are young, have low standing, and are weak, so they are easily bullied. Without compassion, adults may use their age and strength to mistreat them at will. Children often cannot defend themselves or stand up for their rights. They are like people who are paralyzed, struck without being able to get away, or the sick, falsely accused with no way to clear their names. The suffering they endure is beyond words. That society should be so cold-hearted is truly distressing.

Some women are prone to jealousy and harshness, and even as mothers they may fail to care for their children fairly: they cherish their own children but neglect those born to concubines. Stepmothers, too, often fail to look after the children left by a husband’s former wife. Min Ziqian’s mother was one such example. In winter, she dressed her own son in warm clothing lined with silk floss, but gave Min Ziqian clothes padded with reed catkins, then made him drive a cart. If even Min Ziqian’s mother could act this way, one can imagine what happened in other households. As a result, orphans and young children often suffered cruel abuse.

In some villages, people seeking to seize property—whether elders, older brothers and sisters, or sons-in-law who had married into the family—acted without benevolence or righteousness and bullied younger, weaker relatives. They carefully fabricated legal complaints, forged contracts, instructed brokers and intermediaries to give false testimony, and bribed government clerks to alter documents. Their victims were left to suffer and had nowhere to appeal. Some even secretly plotted to take their lives. Alas, these deeds are too painful to speak of further.

In former times, the Li Zhiben family had more than a hundred descendants who lived in harmony across the generations. The Yangcheng brothers relied on one another after both their parents had died. Earlier generations, when providing relief during famines, also made the adoption of orphans and young children a priority. This is what it means to fulfill one’s duty to care for the young.

The encomium says: In his old age, Emperor Yao remained as innocent as a child; Laozi longed for the gentleness and simplicity of an infant. Confucius, too, aspired to ensure that the young were cared for. At birth, a person’s pure and generous De (Virtue) has not yet been damaged, leaving them vulnerable to mistreatment. How could they not be protected? Thus, when the Duke of Zhou practiced benevolent governance, he first cared for orphans and young people without support.

This concludes Volume Two of the Scripture on the Response of the Way (Taishang Ganying Pian).

Volume Three of the Scripture on the Response of the Way was transmitted by Li Changling, with an encomium by Zheng Qingzhi.

Insects and plants, too, must not be harmed.

The text says: The scriptures teach that although beings take different forms, each has a body suited to its kind, formed in accordance with its karmic causes. Through ignorance—losing sight of the truth and lacking awakening—one is born from an egg. Enveloped by afflictions, one is born from a womb. Nourished by the waters of desire, one is born from moisture. When afflictions suddenly arise, one is born by transformation. Among these four forms of life, human beings are further divided into twelve classes, and each class has another eighty-four thousand variations. Taken together, the twelve classes of beings number as many as one million and eighty thousand. The kinds and forms of beings are indeed exceedingly diverse.

Yet in everyday life, when we see rare and beautiful objects, the eyes stir up greed; when we taste rich, crisp food, the tongue gives rise to thoughts of killing; when the mind attaches itself to splendid things, desire arises. This is not confined to the eyes, tongue, and mind: the ears, nose, and body also give rise to deluded thoughts. Fanciful and inverted thoughts follow one after another. Even with our eyes closed, the mind remains troubled and beyond our control. When life comes to an end, will we be able to master ourselves amid the confusion? The twelve classes of beings and their countless variations described by the Buddha have their source precisely in these thoughts, which keep multiplying.

Long ago, the Buddha traveled from country to country, teaching and transforming people. In one country alone, the people refused to accept his teaching. The Buddha later sent Maudgalyayana (Mulian, one of the Buddha’s disciples) there, and the people all came to follow the teaching. The others were puzzled and asked the Buddha why. He said: “In a previous life, the people of that country were a swarm of bees. At the time, Maudgalyayana was a woodcutter. While gathering firewood, he struck a branch and disturbed the swarm. The bees all wanted to sting him with their venomous tails. Maudgalyayana said to them, ‘You all originally possess Buddha-nature, yet through harmful karma you have been reborn here, life after life. Do you still harbor this small resentment and want to hurt others with your venom? May I soon attain the holy fruit and come first to guide you.’ The bees seemed to understand his words and kept them in mind. So when they met Maudgalyayana again in this life, they were all willing to follow his teaching.”

On another occasion, the Buddha was teaching a crowd beside Kalanda Pond in the country of Champa. A frog was delighted to hear him. It hopped onto the bank, hid among the grass, and listened attentively. But someone listening to the teaching accidentally killed it by piercing it with a walking stick. After its death, the frog was reborn in the Trayastrimsha Heaven (the second heaven in the Realm of Desire) and became its heavenly lord. Every day it came down from the heavens to hear the Buddha’s wondrous teaching and attain awakening, eventually reaching the stage of srotapanna, the first fruit of the noble path.

From this we can see that insects, though tiny, are sentient and not so different from human beings. The same is true of plants. Confucians generally hold that plants are alive but lack awareness. Yet according to Buddhist scriptures, one cannot simply conclude that plants are insentient. The Records of the Transmission of the Lamp recounts that, long ago, a monk received offerings for many years from Brahma Pure Virtue and his son Rahula. Because his practice was incomplete and he accepted offerings without having earned them, after death he was reborn as a wood-growing fungus in Pure Virtue’s garden. Each day it provided food for Pure Virtue and his son; others who tried to gather it could not reach it. Given this, how can we claim outright that plants lack awareness? If even insects and plants should not be harmed, then the life of a human being should be all the more protected.

A eulogy says: “I honor that wise and worthy ruler who would not step on an ant. The plants and trees in Zhou Dunyi’s courtyard, too, reveal the delight of life as it grows.” All that lives and feels shares the same nature. When compassion is fully extended, it can fill the space between Heaven and Earth; within this world, no form of life should be abandoned.

We should feel compassion for those who do evil.

The commentary says: The Most High first speaks of cherishing the good deeds of others, yet begins by urging compassion for those who do evil. We should understand that “evil” here means a person who commits wicked acts, not someone who has suffered bereavement or disaster. Human nature is originally pure and no different from that of the sages; if people follow their nature, they can become sages and worthies. But if they give free rein to their desires, they will inevitably become wicked and perverse. The Most High therefore wrote these words to admonish the world, helping everyone understand the Way and guiding them toward goodness. Otherwise, people will remain wicked and be unable to return to the path of goodness.

The Most High once admonished Zhenwu, a revered Daoist deity often called the Great Emperor Zhenwu: “Living beings contend in their pursuit of good and evil, circling endlessly through birth and death. You should help them all to rid themselves of erroneous views, examine each person’s offenses and blessings, and encourage them to increase their merits through cultivation. Make your inspections month by month, and travel through the world at set intervals. Add to the blessings of those who do good; for those who do not, use the path of goodness to undo their evil deeds.”

Why, then, should the Most High feel compassion for those who do evil? Long ago, the people of Chaozhou, beyond what they needed for daily food and use, also competed to catch and eat aquatic creatures without restraint. The twenty-fifth day of the twelfth month was the day the Jade Emperor reported to the Three Pure Ones, toured the heavens, inspected the human world, and judged people’s offenses and blessings. On that day, the Nine-Heavens Investigating Envoys, the sun, moon, and stars, the gods of Heaven and Earth, the spirits of mountains and rivers, and the deities of the local soil shrines could all submit detailed reports of what they had observed.

One day, the Jade Emperor summoned the Great Emperor Ziwei of the Central Heaven’s North Pole and asked, “In the state of Wu, in Jambudvipa, one of the four continents in Buddhist cosmology, there is a place called Chaozhou. How good or evil are its people?” The Great Emperor Ziwei reported: “The people there are truly wicked; they kill living beings without restraint. I fear that, as this continues year after year, grievances will accumulate and the number of aggrieved spirits will grow. Unless this entire region and its cities are razed, the cruel karma built up through years of killing, along with its foul and bloody stench, may not be dispelled.” The Jade Emperor agreed.

After the Great Emperor Ziwei withdrew, the Jade Emperor summoned Zhenwu and said: “You are responsible for traveling through the Three Realms and observing good and evil. How could you not know that the people of Chaozhou have committed such offenses? Their filthy air has polluted the pure realm through which the Jade Emperor travels, dimming the sun and moon and throwing the stars out of order. The Jade Emperor has already ordered that the entire city be sunk. This matter is your responsibility. Hurry and carry out the command.” Zhenwu replied, “An area a thousand li wide cannot mean that every person in it is the same.”

“If the people of the entire prefecture are all punished, I fear many will suffer unjustly. Allow me to descend to the mortal realm and investigate, then return and report.” The Great Emperor of the North Pole replied, “The deities of that prefecture have all been ordered to move elsewhere.”

On hearing this, Zhenwu, a revered deity in Daoism, sighed deeply. “How tragic! Even a single living being remains caught in the cycle of life and death, unable to escape. How much more so when this land stretching a thousand li has become a vast expanse of water, and its creatures harm one another, their grievances and enmities growing ever deeper. How could they still be saved?” He then petitioned again, sending one of his subordinates, a Heavenly General of the Tiangang, to investigate once more.

Before long, the Heavenly General of the Tiangang took the form of a giant softshell turtle and swam on the water’s surface. At first, the deputy prefect’s staff had it butchered for its meat; afterward, the people followed their example and hunted it as well. When the Heavenly General returned and reported what had happened, Zhenwu asked to descend to the mortal realm himself. He took the form of a wandering Daoist and went from door to door asking for water. For seven days, every household gave him water that reeked of fish and filth. At last, he came to a house where the head of the household, an old woman named Jiao, was the only one with clean water. The Perfected Lord asked why. The old woman replied, “The three of us in this household have long detested fish and filth, so we eat only vegetables.”

The Perfected Lord said, “I am no ordinary mortal. Before long, a great flood will inundate this prefecture and turn it into a lake. You truly wish to do good, but it is already too late. You should hurry and move elsewhere.” Soon afterward, as he had foretold, torrential rain fell and the floodwaters surged. In an instant, the prefectural lands for a thousand li around were swept by endless waves. That same day, the Perfected Lord appeared again and said to the old woman Jiao, “You may become the presiding deity of this lake.” A few days later, Jiao died, followed in turn by her son and daughter-in-law. The three became deities, and the lake was named after Jiao’s family: Jiao Lake.

From this, we can see how deeply the true deities of the celestial realm pity those who fall into calamity. The Book of Documents says, “Do not be angry with or resent the foolish and stubborn.” It speaks to this very principle.

Eulogy:

Is human wickedness always rooted in one’s nature? When we witness evil, compassion arises of its own accord, as when a hand recoils from scalding water. The Book of Documents repeatedly admonishes us not to regard the foolish and stubborn with anger. Faced with death and punishment, people often grope in darkness, lost and bewildered. To help them find their way out of confusion is like lighting a lamp in a dark room.

We should take joy in seeing others do good.

The scripture says that the ancients believed the word “I” could best fulfill all kinds of spiritual aspirations. When a person gives rise to a good vow, Heaven can hear it, and its sound is like firecrackers bursting. All the Buddhas will protect that person, and the perfected beings in Heaven will help bring the vow to completion, because the person’s intention accords with theirs.

According to the Tang Literary Selections, Gao Mai once saw an outstanding man from his home district overseeing the Ever-Burning Lamp in the scripture repository at Baorong Temple. The man diligently pursued his practice, and when his wish was fulfilled, he joyfully made a vow and wrote an inscription praising what had happened. Later, pressing affairs kept him from completing the inscription. Gao Mai suddenly developed an eye ailment and could see only dimly, as though looking through a thin veil. He often sighed with regret, yet could not understand what offense he had committed. One night, he dreamed that a spirit asked him, “Have you neglected your duty concerning the Ever-Burning Lamp?” Gao Mai woke at once, rose, and wrote a hymn of praise. The next day, his eye ailment was gone.

How, then, do the Buddhas protect those who do good? According to the Record of the Sage’s Revelation, Cheng Sichang once lived in Mizhou and saw that people in Xizhen, outside the city, liked to eat small birds. Many hunters caught birds every day: some had their heads and chests pecked by falcons; some broke their feet and wings in nets; others were struck by arrows or pellets. Their cries were unbearable to hear. So Cheng Sichang rose in the night and prayed to Heaven beneath the stars: “I wish to have the Illustrated Guide to Abstaining from Killing, which I keep at home, printed and widely distributed. It tells of the karmic ties of all kinds of beings and of the parents of seven generations. I hope that people throughout this region will understand its teachings, change their ways, and repent. Today is the day the Perfected Lord Zhenwu descends. May his sacred power help this book circulate.”

After the book was printed, Peng Jing also obtained a copy and took it home to show his wife. The moment Hua Sanniang saw it, she flew into a rage, tore it up, and threw it into a filthy place. A little later, she bought a fish and prepared to slice it with a knife. The fish suddenly leapt up and struck her in the eye, which began to bleed profusely. Then she seemed to turn into an insect, with insects swarming over her body and biting her. As the commotion spread, the supervising official Shuxiang glimpsed a spirit standing before him. The spirit identified himself as Zhenwu and said he had learned that a great good deed had been done in that place: Cheng Sichang of Xinghua Army had printed and distributed the Illustrated Guide to Abstaining from Killing.

She dared to seize the woman surnamed Hua and hurl her into a filthy place. Her crimes are grave, and she has reached the point where she deserves death. Those others who refuse to repent will also be punished. When I descend among humankind again, twenty-seven days from now, we shall see what becomes of them.

How, then, do the Highest Perfected Ones (Shangzhen) preside over and support good deeds? Alas, the Highest Perfected Ones and the Buddha have long been at rest in the realm of liberation, yet they still delight in seeing people do good. How much more, then, should those of us still amid the sea of suffering strive to do good?

There are indeed such people in the world. When Hu Wending saw that Li Wenjing was untroubled and serene, free of selfish desires, and cultivated himself through learning, he said with delight, “A person like this has already attained eight or nine tenths of a sage’s stature.” Seeing Wang Suogong solemn and composed, resolute in purpose, and diligent in study, he said, “A person like this, too, has attained eight or nine tenths of a sage’s stature.” When Shao Kangjie saw that Sima Wengong was loyal and kind, respectful and frugal, upright and selfless, he said with delight, “A person like this acts with practical good sense and already has eight or nine tenths of a sage’s bearing.” Seeing Han Qinzhi speak his mind about affairs of state before the ruler without holding back, he added, “A person like this is supremely honest without seeking renown, supremely upright without becoming extreme, and supremely brave while remaining gentle. Such a person is truly rare.”

Du Zhengxian, for example, would be as pleased to hear of someone else’s good deed as if he had done it himself. When Liu Jixian heard of someone doing good, he would praise and spread the word without tiring. Wen Lugong, seeing another person do good, would worry that he himself could not keep up. And when Han Zhongxian heard of even a small good deed, he would say, “I, Han Qi, could never manage that.” Without truly delighting in goodness, reaching the point of “taking such joy in goodness that one cannot stop,” how could they have acted this way?

Ode:

People are born with an inherently good nature. Why, then, do they envy others? Because selfishness has gained the upper hand. The desire to win, boastfulness, resentment, and greed become intertwined and bring harm. Only by setting the self aside can the heart cease competing with others. See another person’s good deed as clearly as the moon reflected in a mirror.

Help those facing urgent hardship.

According to the Traditions, the Venerable Nuoju said: “A person of great wisdom is like a bright lamp in a cage: radiant, yet alone. A person of great good fortune and De is like foam on the sea, floating without direction. A person with great skillful means—adapting to circumstances and finding clever ways to help others—is like a fine rain falling from the sky, scattering everywhere.”

When someone faces an urgent crisis and you are able to help, that is what is meant by “great skillful means.” Like rain that nourishes all things, such help benefits others in ways too numerous to describe.

There are many kinds of urgent need. When someone falls ill, medicine is urgently needed. When a family member dies, the family needs help arranging the funeral. When people are hungry and poor, they need food. When a marriage is being arranged, the family needs a dowry and other resources. Many other crises cannot be listed one by one. Any effort to meet someone’s actual needs and help them through a difficult time counts as coming to their aid in an emergency.

When Xu Shuwei was young, he once prayed to pass the jinshi examination. One night, he dreamed that a spirit told him, “If you want to pass, you must accumulate hidden De—goodness done quietly, without seeking recognition.” Xu Shuwei considered that his family was poor and he had no means to help others financially; learning medicine seemed the only path open to him. So he devoted himself to studying medical texts, and in time became highly skilled. People of every station in life came to him when they fell gravely ill. As he saved more and more lives, his reputation grew.

He later dreamed again of the same spirit, who gave him a poem: “Through medicine, you have accumulated hidden De; Chen and Lou will stand on either side of your place in the rankings. In the hall, someone will call out the dice throw: when six is called, count it as five.” That year, Xu Shuwei passed the jinshi examination in sixth place. Chen Zuyan ranked ahead of him, and Lou Cai behind him. Later, when he was awaiting appointment to an available post, his rank was raised to fifth under a special precedent. He received an official appointment and returned home. Not a single word of the poem failed to come true. This is an example of helping others through the urgent hardship of illness.

When Fan Wenzheng—Fan Zhongyan—was prefect of Binzhou, he once took wine and his officials to enjoy the view from a tower during a quiet day. Just as he raised his cup, he saw several people in mourning clothes hurrying back and forth, making funeral arrangements. He sent someone to ask about them and learned that an official living away from home had just died, but his family lacked even the coffin and other necessities for burial. Lord Fan immediately called off the banquet and gave them a large amount of money and supplies. This is an example of helping others through the urgent hardship of a funeral.

When Fan Zhongxuan—Fan Chunren—was prefect of Qingzhou, a severe famine struck. People were dying of hunger along the roads, yet there was no grain available for relief. He asked to open the Ever-Normal Granary, a government storehouse where grain was kept in ordinary times and released during famine to stabilize prices. The officials in the prefecture all objected, saying that they had to report to the court before opening it. Lord Fan replied, “People die after seven days without food. If we wait for the report to be sent and then open the granary, how could that be in time?” He ordered it opened that very day and said, “You need only stay out of it; I alone will take responsibility.” This is an example of helping starving people through an urgent crisis.

Before passing the jinshi examination, Zha Dao traveled around the Xiang and Han regions and borrowed one hundred thousand coins. Along the way, he happened to meet an old friend who urgently needed money and goods for his daughter’s wedding. Zha Dao gave him the entire sum without hesitation. This is an example of helping someone through the urgent needs of a marriage.

How could such wholehearted acts of goodness fail to bring blessings? Xu Shuwei eventually passed the jinshi examination; Fan Wenzheng became a vice chancellor; Fan Zhongxuan became chancellor; and Zha Dao became an attendant official. Were these not the rewards they received? In general, while living in this world, whenever we encounter someone in urgent need, we should do all we can to help them in this way.

A person of noble character helps those in urgent need without seeking private gain. If someone falls into a well and you have a long rope in hand but refuse to lower it, standing by when you could help is like harming that person with your own hands. If you offer only a polite bow and deferential words but do nothing to rescue someone drowning, are you not deceiving yourself? Put yourself in the other person’s place, and you will understand how desperate their situation is.

Help those in danger.

The Seven Slips from the Cloudy Satchel, a Daoist encyclopedia, says: “Saving one person’s life can extend your own by twelve years; if the person you save is virtuous, the added years are doubled.” So when someone is in danger, how could you refuse to help? Here, “danger” especially means a moment when life or death hangs in the balance.

Long ago, Wang Jun rebelled in Shu. Angered that Shu had risen in revolt again, the court ordered Lei Youzhong to lead troops to suppress the rebellion and planned to massacre the city. At the time, Fan Can, a man of steadfast integrity; Fan Xun, a devoted reader; and the eminent Master Wenjian, respected for both his character and reputation, were all widely esteemed local figures. The three left the city by a back road to meet the imperial army. They prostrated themselves and pleaded: “The people of Shu are timid, and the city is full of civilians. Those forced to follow the rebels did so only because they feared for their lives. When the army takes the city, we beg you not to kill indiscriminately. Punish the wicked rebels, and that will be enough.” All three were upright men. They spoke with fervor, unconcerned for their own safety and sincerely mindful of the people. Lei Youzhong’s expression changed as he listened. “Had I not heard these elders speak,” he said, “the city would certainly have been massacred.” In this way, the people of the whole city were spared, thanks to the efforts of the Fan family and Master Wenjian.

The great official Zhang Deyang’s great-grandfather, Zhang Zai, once served as governor of Jianzhou in Fujian. His wife, Lady Lian, was a woman of insight. Zhang Zai once led troops on an expedition, and two generals missed the deadline. He intended to execute them, but Lady Lian pleaded on their behalf, and they were spared. Later, the two men became generals in Southern Tang. When they captured Jianzhou, Zhang Zai had already died, while Lady Lian was still living there. They sent her a generous gift of gold and silk, along with a white flag, and said: “If we are to massacre the city, have Madam place this flag outside her gate. We will then order our soldiers to leave your household unharmed.” Lady Lian returned the gold, silk, and flag, refusing to accept them. “If you remember the kindness shown you in the past,” she said, “then spare this city. If you insist on massacring it, my family will die alongside the people. We will not save ourselves alone.” The generals were moved by her words, and in the end they did not massacre the city. This, too, was Lady Lian’s act of saving lives.

The Fan family is now one of Shu’s prominent lineages, with many descendants; at any given time, a hundred or more of them often hold official posts. The Zhang family also became a leading clan in Jianzhou, producing ministers and chancellors in successive generations. Among Lady Lian’s descendants was Zhang Deyang. Alas, the two families saved lives in this way, and the Dao of Heaven bestowed blessings on them in turn. Such great deeds are uncommon, of course. But whether the need arises from flood or fire, bandits, hunger or cold, illness or epidemic, the threat of punishment or imprisonment, hardship on a journey, or any other urgent danger, one should help with the intention of saving lives. The circumstances may differ, but the principle of aiding those in danger is the same.

The commentary says: When a child is about to fall into a well, everyone feels alarmed and anxious. When an object is about to fall to the ground, even onlookers reach out to catch it. We feel sincere joy when we see someone come through danger unharmed, or a sick and weakened person suddenly able to get up and walk. When others escape misfortune, we too feel glad. If we keep benevolence in our hearts, we will have no regrets or faults.

This concludes volume three of the Taishang Ganying Pian.

Volume four of the Taishang Ganying Pian, transmitted by Li Changling, with a commendatory verse by Zheng Qingzhi.

When others gain something, rejoice as if you had gained it yourself. When others suffer a loss, grieve as if you had suffered it yourself.

The biography says that the Bodhisattva Mañjuśrī once asked Vimalakīrti, “What is a place of practice?” Vimalakīrti replied, “A level mind is a place of practice.” The monk Zhaozhou once asked the monk Nanquan, “What is the Dao?” Nanquan replied, “A level mind is the Dao.” Thus, a level mind is both the Dao and a place of practice.

Ouyang Xiu admired the virtuous and was glad to do good, yet he often said that keeping a level mind was difficult. Peng Siyong studied diligently and often told people, “I did not study other things for any particular purpose. Since childhood, what I have studied is how to keep a level mind.” So is it difficult to keep a level mind, and can it be achieved only through study? In general, the mind itself cannot be seen, but it becomes apparent through its activity. If one is willing to keep a level mind in one’s own conduct, what is so difficult about it? When earlier scholars called it difficult, they lamented that few could manage it and used the warning to instruct those who came after them.

When people see someone else gain or suffer a loss, if they cannot regard it as they would their own gains and losses, they do not understand what it means to keep a level mind. Because they do not understand, they constantly divide themselves from others and compete with them. Their misdeeds then accumulate within them, like streams flowing into the sea, growing deeper and wider with time. How can one speak to such people about a place of practice or the Dao?

Long ago, Xue Yuan held high office in Yan, but he could not keep a level mind toward other people’s gains and losses. When he saw someone gain something, he felt as if he had suffered a loss; when he saw someone suffer a loss, he felt as if he had gained something. He never recommended a single person of talent. If someone else had something worthy of praise, he envied them as though they were an enemy and tried to obstruct them and keep them from advancing. In his later years, one of his sons died in prison. His other sons suffered various afflictions: some went blind, deaf, or mute; others became stooped, deranged, or dull-witted.

At that time, Gongming Zigao saw him and took pity on him. He rebuked him, saying, “These things have all come about because your intentions and conduct were corrupt. Your offenses should have brought about the destruction of your whole family. What has happened to your sons is still not enough to repay your offenses.” Xue Yuan was terrified when he heard this and pleaded earnestly for help. Zigao then taught him the Central Admonitions of Chisongzi. Xue Yuan vowed to follow its teachings diligently, and only then was he barely able to save one son.

What kind of book is the Central Admonitions? I have read it carefully in private, and it seems no different from this Taishang Ganying Pian. Both, in essence, point out where people’s intentions go astray. For correcting wrongdoing, this kind of instruction is especially effective. Xue Yuan respectfully accepted the Central Admonitions and was therefore spared the destruction of his whole family; Zhou Chi expounded this text and was therefore spared death by starvation. Does this not show its power?

Alas, all things in the world vanish in the blink of an eye. Only the causes of evil remain for a long time as burdens we must bear. I am annotating this book now precisely to make this principle clear. Anyone who knows of this book should seek it out and read it; after reading it, they should put its teachings into practice. If they truly do so, they will gain powerful support when they someday face the crisis of life and death.

The encomium says: This hundred-section book places at its end the Oath associated with Yao, Shun, and Yu’s transfer of the throne. When you see that someone has a strength, regard it as though you possessed it yourself. If the people cannot follow the right way, they will inevitably fall into error. The Hongfan (a chapter of the Book of Documents) says that a ruler bestows blessings so that their benefits reach everyone, not so that he thinks of others while treating himself with special favor.

Do not expose other people’s shortcomings.

An old book says that Ma Fubo—the Eastern Han general Ma Yuan, who was granted the title General Who Subdues the Waves—warned his descendants: hearing of another person’s fault should be like hearing the taboo name of one’s parents. Your ears may hear it, but your mouth must not repeat it. This fully illustrates the teaching in the Taishang Ganying Pian, “Do not expose other people’s shortcomings.” Later, Master Guishan went further, saying that one should not speak of such things, and should not listen to them either.

People living in this world are bound to have flaws. But what do another person’s flaws have to do with me? If I simply refuse to hear of them or learn them, they will not be spread through me. If I blurt them out, those shortcomings will spread, damaging the person’s reputation and the conduct he has long upheld. Who should bear responsibility for setting this in motion? A gentleman does not take pleasure in exposing others’ faults, but a petty person has no scruples.

Long ago in Guicheng, there was a man named Zhu Qisheng. He was harsh by nature and enjoyed pointing out other people’s shortcomings. When he met someone with a physical disability, he mocked them; when he met someone handsome, he envied and slandered them; when he met someone slow-witted, he looked down on and insulted them; when he met someone clever and talented, he picked them apart. He despised the poor and mocked and maligned the rich. He exposed officials’ hidden misdeeds and divulged the private affairs of scholar friends. If someone surpassed him in family background, ability, and reputation, leaving him nothing to criticize, he would deliberately find fault by saying that the person’s grandfather had come from humble origins, his father was vulgar, his mother’s family were merchants, or his wife’s family were animal and goods brokers. He might also claim that the person’s younger brother was dissolute or his son was a failure.

Even a minor fault in another person, he would surely exaggerate and embellish. He did this regardless of how serious or trivial the matter was: he turned what had never happened into fact, ten into a hundred, what was doubtful into certainty, an accidental occurrence into a deliberate offense, something done under compulsion into an act of willful showing off, and a misunderstanding into the truth. Thinking others easy to deceive, he would confront them with accusations, humiliate them in public, and maliciously defame them. He found something to disparage in everyone, whether they were strangers, relatives, or familiar acquaintances. Worse still, he called his parents stubborn and foolish, and compared his brothers to Guan Shu and Cai Shu, who were regarded by later generations as villains for rebelling in the early Zhou dynasty. At times, he urged people to sue one another, then stepped in as mediator; he urged people to curse their enemies, then came forward as a witness.

After keeping up this habit for a long time, he no longer thought he was doing anything wrong. In his old age, he suddenly fell ill. His tongue turned yellow, and whenever the illness flared, it had to be pricked with a needle to let the blood out. Several pints had to be drawn before he found relief. Soon the illness returned, and his tongue had to be pricked again. It flared five or six times in a single year, causing indescribable suffering. In the end, his tongue withered, and he died. It is said that the Daoist Zhang Qiyi also liked to mock and ridicule others, and eventually died after chewing his tongue. The two men met the same end. In light of this, can exposing other people’s shortcomings really be something one should do?

The commentary says: We all hope to become sages, and other people are just like us. Why, then, should they not be able to become sages too? A mistake made by chance can still be cleared away and corrected. But once a mistake is spread around, it may become a lifelong stain. Therefore, the exemplary person values concealing others’ faults and does not broadcast them everywhere.

Do not show off your strengths.

An ancient book says that Laozi held this view: A skilled merchant hides valuable goods deep away, so that he seems to have nothing to sell; a person of deep De (Virtue/Power) often appears simple and foolish on the outside. Confucius said that the Dao (the Way) followed by the exemplary person seems plain and understated, yet grows clearer with each passing day. The Dao followed by the petty person may seem dazzling and conspicuous, yet gradually fades away.

In general, everyone has some strengths. If you truly have a particular ability, then, as described above, you should further temper its display, cultivate yourself well, and make new progress each day. Only then can you develop fine character. Otherwise, you are bound to seem frivolous and impatient, flaunting your abilities and revealing a narrow, shallow nature. How could that accord with the saying that “a person of deep De appears simple and foolish,” or that “the Dao of the exemplary person is understated yet grows clearer with time”?

Ouyang Xiu, a prominent Northern Song official and writer, was skilled at writing. Yet when talking with guests, he often discussed government affairs rather than writing. Cai Xiang, a prominent Northern Song official and calligrapher, was skilled in government affairs. Yet when talking with guests, he often discussed writing rather than politics. Both deliberately kept their strengths in check and did not display them. Sadly, many people do not understand this and instead often show off.

In the past, Li Mi, a prominent Tang official, was exceptionally clever and could write essays at the age of seven. He once wrote “Song of Longing,” which included these lines: “Above, Heaven covers me; below, Earth bears me. Did Heaven and Earth create me with some purpose? If I do not abstain from food, cultivate myself, and ascend to the celestial realm, then I must wear jade and roam the imperial capital. I seek neither rank nor seclusion—am I to be a tall, stalwart man in vain? A stalwart man, a stalwart man, carrying many ambitions in his heart throughout his life. Look to the achievements of a hundred years from now: I shall sail a small boat across the Five Lakes.” When the poem was finished, everyone praised him. Only Zhang Jiuling admonished him: “Keeping your abilities hidden within yourself is something the ancients valued. You are still very young, yet already famous. I fear this may harm you. You should keep your abilities in check; perhaps then you can cultivate your character. And you are still a child, at that. If you write poetry, it is best to praise scenery and sing of past and present, without using it to boast about yourself.”

Li Mi seemed to understand. He wept and thanked Zhang repeatedly, and from then on stopped showing off. If he had refused to keep his abilities in check, how could he have developed his character and become a distinguished prime minister of his age? So understand this: when you have strengths, you must never boast about them.

The hymn says:

Heaven, earth, and humanity stand together as the Three Powers, upholding the world and all its beings, and shaping each person’s own life as well. A person may advance from being worthy and wise to becoming a sage, and from sagehood reach a wondrous realm. But the slightest complacency keeps one’s virtue from renewing itself. Yan Yuan, Confucius’s disciple, may have seemed dull, yet these principles are well worth writing down so that we may encourage ourselves by them at all times.

Restrain evil and promote good.

The commentary says: “Restrain evil and promote good” is called the way of the noble person in the Classic of Changes, and the conduct of a good person in the Taishang Ganying Pian. The Classic of Changes says, “Fire above Heaven: this is the Great Possession hexagram.” The Great Possession hexagram symbolizes embracing all things. Thus the noble person restrains evil and promotes good in order to accord with Heaven’s fine intent.

Does restraining evil and promoting good, then, mean following the Way of Heaven and helping all things find what is right for them? Is this truly where Heaven’s fine intent is expressed? Generally speaking, unless people are sages like Yao and Shun, how could they do everything perfectly? What is not done well is called evil. I can find ways to stop such wrongdoing, so that people do not give themselves over to despair but can strive to change and turn toward good. Who does not value good conduct? A word or a deed may be called good if there is anything in it worthy of praise. I can make it known so that everyone hears and sees it, and people encourage one another to do good. Is this not precisely Heaven’s fine intent? Heaven has always wished for this, and now I treat others in the same way. Is this not following Heaven’s will?

The Doctrine of the Mean says: “How wise Shun truly was! He concealed other people’s faults and made their good qualities known.” If even Shun acted this way, how much more should everyone else? Thus Zhao Kangjing, Zhao Gai, always made it his priority to shield others’ faults and promote their good qualities. Shao Kangjie, Shao Yong, took pleasure in praising others’ strengths and did not mention their faults. These men truly understood the principle of restraining evil and promoting good.

It is a pity that people often fail to realize that a single sentence can sometimes make or ruin someone. Once words have left your mouth, how can you afford not to be careful?

Long ago, when Kou Laigong, Kou Zhun, was serving as a regional governor, his birthday happened to fall during his term, and he had a decorated festival pavilion built. An inspecting official reported him to the throne. The emperor was furious and said sharply to Wang Wenzheng, Wang Dan: “Why does Kou Zhun insist on imitating everything I do?” Wang Dan replied, “Kou Zhun is indeed worthy, but he can be a little blunt and simple.” The emperor said, “Is that all—just blunt and simple?” And so he let the matter drop. If not for Wang Dan’s words, how could the emperor’s anger over the pavilion have subsided? And how would he have heard that Kou Zhun was a worthy man?

When Wang Wenkang governed Shu, he sentenced every thief to death, regardless of the severity of the crime. Some criticized him as excessively harsh. Just then, Liu Ye was summoned back to court, and Emperor Zhenzong asked him, “Between Ling Ce and Wang, who governed Shu better?” Liu Ye replied, “Ling Ce encountered years of abundant harvests, so he was able to govern with leniency. Wang encountered years of poor harvests and feared that the people would be driven to become thieves. He had no choice but to enforce the laws strictly and punish offenders according to them. If their circumstances had been reversed, each would have acted in the same way.” Zhenzong approved of his answer. If not for Liu Ye’s words, how could the emperor’s doubts about Wang’s harshness have been dispelled so quickly? And how would the emperor have heard that “in reversed circumstances, they would have acted in the same way”?

This is what it means to restrain evil and promote good. The Most High therefore calls such people good, and the Classic of Changes praises this conduct as accordant with Heaven’s fine intent.

The commentary says:

Good and evil thoughts originally arise from the very same thought. Once a person chooses to restrain or indulge, to advance or retreat, the direction changes, like a turning wheel. The key to suppressing an evil thought and nurturing a good one lies in this turn of the mind. A good thought, stirred by the feeling of spring, can awaken creatures lying dormant. To follow Heaven’s principle and accept one’s proper lot is perhaps to accord with Heaven’s heart.

Yielding More and Taking Less

The classics and commentaries say, “Yield more and take less.” This seems to refer mainly to the division of family property among brothers. In general, the bond between brothers is an important human relationship, and they should show such humility when dealing with material possessions. If they act otherwise, where is their affection? This is especially true when dividing property: affection should matter most. Heaven observes people’s conduct, and this is often what it looks at. If you take a little more today, does that really mean you gain more? If you take a little less, does that really mean you lose?

In the past, when Xue Bao divided the family property with his brothers, he chose the older servants, the barren and neglected fields, and the worn-out, damaged household items. When Xu Ji divided property with his two uncles, he first invited them to take everything they wanted. He kept only a box of books and two dilapidated rooms, accepting this calmly and without the least resentment.

Wei Gong Xianxi also took only a small share of the family property. Dongran Shiheng took only the books. Du Zhengxian Yan left all the property to his brothers, while Du “the Child Prodigy” Chun yielded it all to his younger brother. These are examples of yielding more and taking less. People have also shown humility by declining official titles and honors. When the court granted rewards in connection with the suburban sacrifices, Shen Jizhong twice yielded the opportunity for appointment to his two younger brothers. Xu Xi had already received an imperial appointment, but gave the opportunity to his elder brother’s son. Those who haggle over every fraction and fight for every small advantage soon come to ruin. They are hardly worth discussing.

The commentary says:

To know strength yet remain gentle, to be pure yet appear dark—these are teachings of Laozi. To regard poverty as precious and restraint as a virtue is also Laozi’s teaching. How can those who pursue only their own gain and look down on others be considered virtuous? One should guard against expanding desires, restrain oneself, and remain humble. To speak only of yielding in matters of money does not exhaust the principle of Heaven that lies behind it.

Bearing Insults Without Resentment

The Nirvana Sutra records that once, someone praised the Buddha for possessing profound good fortune and virtue. A listener became angry and said, “The Buddha’s mother died when he was only seven days old. How can that be called profound good fortune and virtue?” The person praising him replied, “When the Buddha was young, he was strong in body and spirit, yet did not die prematurely. Even when severely beaten, he did not become angry, nor did he seek revenge on the horse. Is that not profound good fortune and virtue?” Hearing this, the angry man was convinced. Perhaps only someone endowed with good fortune and virtue could act this way; and to act this way is itself proof of that good fortune and virtue. People with narrow minds and shallow understanding find this state difficult to comprehend.

There were also many people of profound good fortune and virtue in our dynasty. In the past, when Lü Mengzheng was appointed assistant chancellor, an official pointed at him from behind a curtain as he was about to enter the court and said, “Can that fellow really serve as assistant chancellor?” Lü Mengzheng pretended not to hear. Afterward, his colleagues insisted on asking the man’s name, but Lü Mengzheng firmly refused to let them tell him. “If I learn his name,” he said, “I’ll never be able to forget it for the rest of my life. Better not to know.”

When Fu Bi, courtesy name Wenzhong, a renowned Northern Song official, was young, someone once insulted him. He heard it but acted as though he had not. When someone told him what had happened, he said, “I worry that he wasn’t insulting me.” The other person replied, “He clearly called you by name. He was insulting you.” Fu Bi answered, “Surely there are other people in the world with the same name as me?” In the end, he did not ask who the man was.

These were all civil officials, so perhaps it was relatively easy for them to show such tolerance. For a military commander to do the same is even more worthy of praise. When Di Qing, posthumously titled Wuxiang, was deputy commander at Zhending, Sun Mian hosted a banquet for him one day. Liu Yi was also there. He was usually sharp-tongued and fond of exposing other people’s faults. During the banquet, the performers joked about scholars. Liu Yi suddenly flew into a rage and said, “How dare a soldier who has been branded as a criminal behave like this!” He then went on insulting Di Qing, even throwing down his wine vessels and dishes before getting up to leave. Sun Mian saw that Di Qing remained composed and untroubled, still smiling and speaking gently. Only after Liu Yi returned home did he begin to regret his behavior. By then, Di Qing had already gone to his house in person to apologize.

Wang Ji served as an additional deputy military inspector and accompanied the army on its campaign against Liu Gan. Cautious, honest, and sparing of words, he seemed to lack ability and was frequently scolded by his colleagues. Wang Ji paid no attention to them. He simply did his best to handle military affairs and risked his life in battle, eventually breaking through the enemy lines and being promoted to commander. Without a measure of composure beyond the ordinary, how could he have done this?

All these men went on to prosper and enjoy good fortune and virtue. Who can say that the truths taught in the Buddhist scriptures are not real?

The eulogy says:】【。

Yan Hui did not take offense at others, and Sui Hui was content to remain in a lowly position. Liu Xiahui exposed his body without embarrassment. Di Renjie, whose courtesy name was Huaiying and posthumous title was Wenzhen, was once spat upon in the face, yet did not wipe it away, allowing it to dry on its own. People praised their conduct in their own time, and their good names were handed down to later generations. Their minds were calm and their breath steady; they smiled as they watched the changes of the world. If a boat drifted toward me empty, or a roof tile happened to strike me, what could I possibly resent?

When receiving favor, be as wary as if startled.

The “Favor and Disgrace” chapter of the Dao De Jing says, “Favor is something lowly: receiving it is cause for alarm, and losing it is cause for alarm. This is what is meant by ‘favor and disgrace are both startling.’” The Taishang Ganying Pian likewise says here, “When receiving favor, be as wary as if startled.” Clearly, when favored, one should indeed remain vigilant. Good fortune often harbors misfortune. Receiving favor inevitably places one in a position of prosperity and fullness; when things become too full, many troubles may lie hidden within. Once favor is lost, calamity may follow at once. How could this not inspire alarm? Thus, when a noble person accepts favor, they are always as cautious as if facing danger.

In the past, Lord Wang Wenzheng, Wang Dan, passed the highest civil service examination for the first time and went on to serve as prefect of Pingjiang and vice prefect of Zhengzhou. He later rose to such posts as vice chief councillor and chief minister. He accompanied the emperor on the Feng and Shan sacrifices at Mount Tai and the sacrifice at Fenyin. He also oversaw the affairs of the Jade Clarity Palace of Auspicious Response, welcomed sacred images, and had heavenly writings carved onto jade tablets. His rank kept rising. Whenever his family came out to congratulate him, he would stop them, saying, “The more I receive such good fortune, the more anxious and fearful I become. What is there to celebrate?” Later, when ordered to preside over a court sacrifice, he rode out from the palace gates, and the officials came to see him off, praising his distinguished favor and honor. Wang Dan said, “I feel only unease in my heart.” Could others in such a position have been like him?

When Lord Zhang Zhongding, Zhang Yong, was appointed vice minister of the Ministry of Personnel, he said to his close associate Li Tian, “Now, thanks to imperial favor, I have been promoted to a high position overseeing the selection and appointment of officials. It is frightening, truly frightening. If I look downward at my situation, I know I am not in danger; but if I look only upward, I fear I will eventually fall.” As he spoke, he looked apprehensive, as though his heart were full of fear. Could others in such a position have been like him? It was precisely because they were so cautious that they were able to retain favor. Without such caution, they would likely have brought calamity upon themselves before long. Are not the cases of Lu Duoxun and Zhong Fang examples of this?

When Lu Duoxun had just become vice chief councillor, his clothing and habits grew increasingly extravagant. His father, Lu Yi, saw this and grew troubled. “Our family has been poor for generations, devoted to study,” he said. “Now we have suddenly become so rich and powerful. I do not know how this will end.” Lu Duoxun paid no heed to his father’s words, and in the end, when his misconduct was exposed, he met with disaster. After Zhong Fang was first summoned by the court, his reputation rose greatly. His mother angrily told him, “I repeatedly urged you not to gather disciples or pursue fame. Now, as expected, people know you everywhere. I fear you will not be able to live in peace.” Zhong Fang, too, ignored his mother’s words, and in the end his reputation brought calamity upon him. These are all examples of people who received favor but failed to remain vigilant.

The legendary wine vessel was carved with blue-green and yellow designs, though the wood itself had originally been afflicted with a blight. A lonely calf may be dressed in embroidered silk, but does that mean it can live out in the fields? Court robes and carriages—the trappings of high rank—are only things one inhabits for a time; the splendor that comes from outside may not last. Clinging to glory in the hope of securing one’s safety is precisely what brings trouble close. How could anyone who truly understands the Way fail to be wary of this?

It is said that when a noble person does someone a kindness, they think only of helping, not of being repaid. If the kindness was offered from the outset in the hope of a return, then the giver has put self-interest before gratitude and was never truly acting for another’s sake. Repayment may never come, while resentment may arise first. How, then, could this be called virtue? It is often kindness given without any thought of return that receives an unexpected repayment.

Long ago, when Shang Lin was magistrate of Wushan County, the county commandant Li Zhu was a forceful man. Before long, Li Zhu fell gravely ill, and his condition became critical. Taking pity on him, Shang Lin asked if he had any final requests. Wiping away his tears, Li Zhu said that no one would care for his elderly mother or young daughter. After Li Zhu died, Shang Lin used his own salary to send Li Zhu’s mother and ashes back to Hedong. He also arranged for Li Zhu’s daughter to marry into a prominent local family.

One night, Shang Lin dreamed that Li Zhu bowed to him and wept in gratitude, just as he had in life. “You have no son,” he said. “Grateful for your kindness, I have already asked the Heavenly Emperor for permission to be reborn as your son, and now I have been granted it.” That same month, Shang Lin’s wife indeed became pregnant. The following year, Shang Lin resigned from office and traveled home by boat, going downstream. Whenever they reached dangerous rapids, he would vaguely see Li Zhu standing on the bank, seeming to call out and guide them. When the boat was nearing Jingzhu, Shang Lin dreamed again that Li Zhu said, “Tomorrow I will be born into a family in the prefectural seat. You must bring a small box there.”

The next day, Shang Lin did indeed bring a small box to the prefectural seat. Inside was millet for cooking porridge. He called the child “Little Box” and named him Ying. As Ying grew up, he was generous and kind, quick to do good, and deeply devoted to his parents. He later rose to become an Assistant Director of the Court of Judicial Review, an official responsible for judicial proceedings.

When Yuwen Yingdi first took up the post of chief prison officer in Qianjiang, a man named Fu Ai was widely loved by the people. He had once reported on officials at the transport office, and later, after he was imprisoned over an incident, those officials bore a grudge and tried to frame him for a serious offense. Yingdi judged this unjust and did all he could to defend him, ultimately securing a lighter punishment.

Three years later, Yingdi was sent on an official journey. Passing through Nanbin, he took a boat back along the river. It was June, and a sudden downpour sent the river surging, with waves rising like mountains. The boat’s mooring line snapped. Those aboard could do nothing but wait for the boat to overturn. Suddenly, a small boat appeared and vanished among the mist-like waves, then came from afar to rescue them. Only after they had escaped the danger did everyone realize that their rescuer was Fu Ai. Both men were astonished. Yingdi said, “When I judged your case in Qianjiang, I thought only that it was right to do so; I never meant to be repaid. Today you risked your life to save people, without knowing that I was among those who had fallen into the water. Could Heaven have arranged for this to happen so that the truth would be made clear?” The two men spoke of it with deep emotion for a long time.

Alas, when Shang Lin first helped Li Zhu, he only thought that one official ought to treat another this way. How could he have imagined that he would later be repaid with a son? And when Yingdi judged Fu Ai’s case, he only thought that a judgment should be fair. How could he have imagined that he would one day be repaid with his life? These were acts of kindness given without any expectation of return. Had they been thinking of repayment at the time, such outcomes might never have come about. An old saying goes: “Even kindness, though widely bestowed, may meet with an unexpected return; resentment must not be incurred, for people may meet again on a narrow path.” These words truly get to the heart of the matter.

The commentary says:

When people encounter someone else’s suffering, they naturally feel alarm and compassion. These kind impulses arise from within the heart. But if one does good in order to win a reputation, thoughts of personal gain begin to take root. Benevolence springs from the natural order and can be put into practice when we meet particular people and situations. Greed for gain, however, comes from selfish desire and, if left to grow, inevitably leads to conflict. A good or bad intention may differ by only a hair’s breadth, yet its consequences can be worlds apart; we must therefore weigh our choices with care.

After giving to others, feel no regret.

The commentary says: Laozi said, “Having helped others, you become more abundant; having given to others, you gain more yourself.” People often find it easy to be stingy with their possessions: some will not part with even a single coin, while others regret what they have already given away. To give to others without regret—how could anyone do this without a genuine willingness to give? In doing so, one’s blessings and De also grow. Is this not a matter of becoming more abundant through giving, and gaining more through generosity?

Long ago, when Liu Zhongtu was young, he was drinking at a tavern when he saw a scholar preparing to visit the local governor to ask for help burying his parents. Liu asked how much money he needed. The scholar replied, “Two hundred thousand cash.” That very day, Liu returned home and gathered all the family’s possessions. He collected a hundred taels of silver and tens of thousands of cash, and gave everything to the scholar without the slightest reluctance.

Fan Wenzhenggong (Fan Zhongyan) once sent his son Yaofu to Suzhou to fetch wheat. When Yaofu’s boat stopped at Danyang, he met an old friend, Shi Manqing. Shi had no money to bury three of his relatives and could not return home. Yaofu gave him all five hundred shi of wheat aboard the boat. After Yaofu got home, before he had a chance to mention what he had done, Fan Wenzhenggong asked, “Did you see your old friend?” Yaofu replied that Manqing could not return home because his three relatives had not yet been buried. Fan Wenzhenggong said, “Why didn’t you give him the wheat boat?” Yaofu answered, “I already did.” Fan Wenzhenggong remained composed, his delight plain on his face. Would men like these have regretted it?

These two were outstanding figures, so it is no surprise that they performed such good deeds. But there were others of lesser standing who acted the same way. Li Qian was wealthy. During a famine, he lent a thousand shi of grain to his neighbors. The next year brought another famine, and they were unable to repay him. In front of everyone, Li Qian burned the loan papers and said, “The debt is settled. There is no need to repay it.” The following year brought a good harvest, and the neighbors competed to repay their debts, but he refused them all. A year later, famine struck again. Li Qian gave away his entire fortune to provide food for the poor, saving tens of thousands of lives. He also paid for the burial of those who had died. Someone said, “You have accumulated great hidden De through your good deeds.” Li Qian replied, “Hidden De is like ringing in one’s ears: you know it yourself, but others do not. Now that you know about it, how can it still be hidden De?”

Li Haoran also came from a wealthy family. For more than forty years, he helped the poor without ever slackening. Would men like these have regretted it? Later, both Liu Zhongtu and Fan Zhongyan rose to even greater prominence, and the grandsons of both men surnamed Li passed the civil service examinations. Is this not what it means to gain more by giving?

Praising Words:

The ancients looked down on people who began a task but failed to see it through. Better to refuse from the start, even if that brings resentment, than to promise and then fail to follow through, leaving others with cause to blame you. A person of noble character does not hold back from doing good: once convinced that something is good, they act decisively. If others have cast aside something valuable and left it on the ground, there is no harm in picking it up. But to hide it away and claim it for oneself shows a narrow heart. Any way of helping others that is within one’s means is a good deed that offers them support.

What Makes Someone a Good Person?

The Analects records Confucius as saying, “As for good people, I have never seen one. If I could see someone who abides by the constant Way, that would be enough.” How, then, should a good person cultivate themselves and regulate their words and actions to reach this level? There is no other way: put into practice the principles taught in the Taishang Ganying Pian (Treatise on the Response of Heaven and Earth), and you can attain it.

The text teaches that ministers should be loyal, children filial, brothers loving toward one another, and spouses harmonious. One should correct oneself and thereby influence others; cherish all living things; avoid wrongdoing even when alone, and never take crooked paths. One’s conduct in both advancing and withdrawing should accord with what is right. One should accumulate good deeds without ceasing; show consideration for widows and compassion for orphans; respect the elderly and care for the young; pity those who have suffered calamity and take joy in doing good; relieve urgent need and aid those in distress. One should not boast of one’s own strengths or publicize others’ faults, but restrain wrongdoing and praise what is good. One should take less for oneself and give more to others; endure insult without resentment, and receive favor with a sense of awe. One should give kindness without expecting repayment, and help others without regret. One should regard others’ gains and losses as one’s own. One’s kindness should even reach insects, and one’s compassion extend to plants and trees. If someone can live by these principles, how could they fail to be called a good person?

Long ago, after Li Fang, Duke Wenzheng, a statesman of the Northern Song, retired from office, the Lantern Festival arrived. Emperor Taizong of Song sent a carriage for an elderly or distinguished passenger to bring him to the palace. He seated Li Fang beside the imperial couch, poured him wine with his own hands, and selected precious fruits to give him. Then he said, “A man like you is truly a good person and a gentleman. You served twice as prime minister, yet never had the thought of harming another person or taking the life of a living creature. That is why I have always kept you in my thoughts.”

When Li Fang returned home, he told his son, “Though I have achieved no great feats or accomplishments to astonish the world, I have never hidden another person’s merits or begrudged their progress. I have never done anything shameful in secret, and I have been able to measure my own virtue and keep to my proper place. I believe I have truly fulfilled these four things. Now the emperor has praised me and called me a good person and gentleman before all the ministers. ‘Good person and gentleman’ is the highest praise for a man’s character. Since even Confucius said he had never seen a good person, how could I dare accept such a title? You must remember the emperor’s praise. Alongside the four principles I have always upheld, perhaps loyalty to one’s ruler, filial devotion to one’s family, careful self-cultivation, and standing firm in what is right will keep one from being unworthy of that name.”

His son, Li Zong’e, also faithfully followed his father’s teachings and became a well-known figure of his time. When Li Mu, a senior official who participated in government, died, the emperor went in person to his coffin and wept bitterly. He then said to those around him, “Why did Heaven not let a good man assist me? Why take him away so early?” Li Zong’e asked Li Fang, “What was Uncle like in his daily conduct, that the emperor should mourn him so deeply?” Li Fang replied, “The senior official was upright and frugal, clear-minded and perceptive, indifferent to fame and desire. He was honest without offending others, tactful without stooping to flattery. His learning was broad and thorough, and his insight and bearing were deep and pure. He was truly an elegant gentleman. He was also skilled at dealing with people and quick in handling government affairs. So when he died, everyone, whether they had known him or not, sighed and grieved. Otherwise, how could he have moved the emperor to attend his funeral in person and weep so bitterly for him?”

Alas, the conduct of these two gentlemen, Li Fang and Li Mu, truly accorded with the way of the good person described in the Taishang Ganying Pian. It is no exaggeration to call them good people.

The eulogy says:

All six lines of the Qian hexagram are yang lines, and yang energy is the beginning of all goodness. Not even a moment of time should be wasted: this is what the pure Way of Heaven is like. People receive the upright, balanced energy of Heaven and Earth; the key is whether they can nurture it. When they extend this goodness in their hearts and put it into practice, they can bring stability and benefit to others, while encouraging themselves to persevere in doing good. As yang energy grows and yin energy recedes, the principle of Heaven within the heart opens ever wider.

Everyone respected him.

The biography records that when Gai Juyuan was serving as county magistrate, he bought silk gauze in the public office and opened the package himself. His maidservant saw him from behind a screen and said indignantly, “I never thought that today I would have to serve a merchant who sells silk gauze.” She asked to leave and would not stay.

When Fan Feng was serving as Vice Censor-in-Chief, a gatekeeper had worked at the Censorate for more than forty years and served over twenty vice censors-in-chief. He could often tell whether a vice censor-in-chief was worthy: when he bowed and answered, the staff in his hand lay crosswise if the man was worthy, but stood upright if he was not. This saying had circulated for a long time. Whenever people heard that someone was coming to take up the post, they worried that the gatekeeper would hold his staff upright.

One day, Fan Feng saw the staff standing upright and, surprised, asked why. The gatekeeper replied, “Recently I saw the vice censor-in-chief invite guests several times and repeatedly give instructions to the cook. I privately thought that if he became prime minister one day, he would probably nag about everything. Wouldn’t that be petty and tiresome? I truly look down on that sort of behavior, so without realizing it, I held my staff upright.” Fan Feng felt ashamed when he heard this and apologized again and again.

Alas, if someone’s conduct is occasionally improper, even maidservants and servants will no longer respect him. How much less can he expect everyone to respect him? We should understand that anyone who wins the respect of many people must truly have something worthy of respect.

Have we not heard the stories of Sima Guang and Liu Dajian? In the past, when Sima Guang went to the capital to take up his post, every guard who saw him raised a hand to his forehead in respect. People even stopped him on the road and said, “Please don’t go back. Stay and assist the emperor; save the people.” At the time, Wang Pizhi passed through Qingzhou and saw several hundred villagers jumping and cheering, all saying, “With Lord Sima as prime minister, we could not be happier!” After Sima Guang died, people in the capital closed their shops to mourn him, and some sold their clothes to make offerings in his honor. Tens of thousands came from all over to attend his funeral. Even elders from Fengzhou, far away in Lingnan, came together to see him off; more than nine hundred of them placed incense sticks in their hair as they accompanied him. If everyone had not respected him, how could such scenes have come about?

When Liu Dajian served in the Song dynasty, people used to say, “To pass through Nanjing without seeing Liu the Academician is like reaching Sizhou without seeing the Great Sage.” After he died, old people and ordinary folk, even women, farmers, and townspeople, all vied to bring incense, recite Buddhist scriptures, and mourn him. The crowds filled the Liu family’s entrance so completely that no one could get inside. They had to set up a large incense burner beneath the hall to receive the offerings, and the price of incense rose as a result. If everyone had not respected him, how could such scenes have come about?

Consider, too, Wang Yigong’s time at court. Yang Wengong had a playful nature and often teased his colleagues, but he said, “I dare not make fun of the secretary in the Fourth Hall.” Chen Xiang, Chen Lie, Zhou Ximeng, and Zheng Mu all made understanding the principle of Heaven and fully realizing one’s nature the focus of their learning. They took the weighty affairs of the realm as their own responsibility. Scholars admired them and called them the “Four Masters.” Even those who were unruly, discourteous, and arrogant did not dare behave disrespectfully at their doors.

Duke Fu Wenzhong once rode in a small carriage across Tianjin Bridge. People followed to watch, and the market was empty for a time. Xu Xiaojie lived in a hut beside his parents’ graves, keeping vigil there; townspeople went to pay their respects every day, leaving the market empty. Shen Yan stood apart for his exceptional conduct, and whenever he passed a shop, those inside would rise to show respect. Whenever Shao Kangjie went out, scholars and officials in the city would put their clothing in order and come out to greet him. If these people had not truly been worthy of respect, how could they have won the respect of so many?

The encomium says:

Reverence arises before a person takes any action. Lin Zong’s headscarf and Zizhi’s distinctive brows inspired admiration; in Sima Guang’s time, even ordinary runners knew that he was worthy of respect. Such reverence is not something one seeks from others. People offer it of their own accord. Otherwise, why would the Uyghurs have bowed in awe before Guo Ziyi?

“Heaven’s Dao protects him” means that Heaven will protect such a person.

The commentary explains: “Heaven’s Dao protects him” is what the Book of Changes means when it says, “Heaven protects him; good fortune, with nothing unfavorable.” Heaven’s Dao does not favor one family over another; it regularly helps those who do good. Good deeds need not be proclaimed to receive a good response, and help need not be summoned to arrive of its own accord. Only one who truly possesses De can resonate with Heaven; without De, one cannot receive its protection.

In the past, after Liu Qizhi passed the jinshi examination, he did not immediately take up an official post. Instead, he returned home to continue his studies. He often reminded himself of Diao Kai’s words: that he had not yet truly believed in or understood the Way of the sages. Sima Guang greatly admired him. When Liu Qizhi first took office as a remonstrance official, he submitted twenty-four memorials in succession, distinguishing upright officials from corrupt ones at court. Later, he submitted another nineteen memorials, declaring that Zhang Dun was a petty man who should not be appointed. Others grew fearful and held back, but Liu Qizhi paid no heed.

Later, when Zhang Dun came to power, Liu Qizhi was demoted and exiled in turn to Chunzhou, Xunzhou, Meizhou, and Xinzhou, among other places. His life was almost forfeit. Of the eight prefectures on his route, he passed through seven. Even on the scorching, difficult journey, he always had the local officials supervise his progress. He traveled a stretch each day and sometimes risked crossing the sea. Everyone else thought he was certain to die, yet he arrived safely, lived to the age of eighty, and never spent a single day bedridden.

At the time, in the place where Liu Qizhi had been exiled, there was a man who had gained office by donating grain. Guessing what Zhang Dun wanted, he volunteered to kill Liu Qizhi on Zhang Dun’s behalf. That very day, Zhang Dun promoted him to be circuit transport commissioner, the official responsible for managing and transporting the region’s revenues. The man rode hard and stopped only twenty li from Liu Qizhi’s place of exile, intending to deal with him the next day. Everyone around Liu Qizhi was deeply worried. But in the middle of the night, a bell suddenly rang. Then the transport commissioner seemed to be struck by some unseen force; he vomited blood and died. Had he not died, Liu Qizhi might well have escaped disaster only with difficulty. If Heaven had not protected him, how could such a thing have happened?

Geng Ziyu, too, was a man blessed with De. His father had once served as prefect of Baxi and was later transferred to Ningshu, where he died in office. When Geng Ziyu escorted his father’s coffin home, it was autumn, and the river had risen until only a little sandbank remained visible. The current through the Qutang Gorge was especially swift, and rain was about to fall. The boatmen were all terrified. Geng Ziyu looked up to Heaven and wept bitterly. Before his cries had even ceased, the river fell by more than twenty zhang. Once the boat had passed, the water returned to its former level. Had the river not receded, the outcome would have been hard to predict. If Heaven had not protected him, how could this have happened?

From this, one should understand that receiving Heaven’s protection depends on whether one has De. What is more, loyalty and filial devotion are the foremost among the many virtues; they are the chief of good deeds.

The Dao of Heaven is the principle of fairness: things are as they are, naturally so. It has neither affection nor aversion, so who is in charge of reward and punishment? The Dao of Heaven supports good deeds and helps those who possess De, aids those who follow the Dao, and honors the worthy. Acting in accordance with the right path brings good fortune; with every action, the Dao of Heaven lends its help. Who, then, is blessing me? It is the good intention within oneself that accords with the Dao of Heaven.

Blessings and emoluments will follow as well.

The commentary quotes the Classic of Poetry: “How joyful is the noble man—blessings and emoluments are bestowed on him in double measure; how joyful is the noble man—blessings and emoluments descend upon him in abundance.” This is precisely what the passage means by “blessings and emoluments follow.” In general, kind and noble people are good-natured and easygoing, qualities enough to attract blessings and emoluments. Thus these often arrive of their own accord, without needing to be sought, as though following close behind.

In the past, Fu Zhenggong (Fu Bi), a distinguished official of the Northern Song, served as an admonition official because he dared to speak frankly and offer advice that addressed the urgent problems of the day. He later became a drafter of imperial edicts. The chancellor disliked him and recommended him as an envoy to a hostile state whose intentions were hard to predict. At the time, Ouyang Wenzhonggong (Ouyang Xiu) submitted a memorial, citing the precedent of Lu Qi recommending that Yan Zhenqing go as an envoy to the rebel general Li Xilie. Ouyang pointed out that the chancellor was using this opportunity to harm Fu Bi. The memorial was submitted, but the court gave no reply. When Fu Bi went on his mission, his words alone moved the enemy state’s ruler and ministers to repeat them together. He made peace with the Central Plain, and hostilities ceased for nearly a hundred years. After he returned, he was appointed a grand academician of the Privy Council, an academician of the Hanlin Academy, and deputy commissioner of the Privy Council, but he declined each post as earnestly as he could. More than a month later, the court appointed him commissioner of the Privy Council, and he still tried to refuse. The emperor insisted on waiting until Fu Bi arrived before having the court officials take their places. Is this not a clear sign that blessings and emoluments followed him?

These were, of course, great blessings and emoluments, beyond what anyone with only modest achievements would dare hope for. Yet in a person’s own circumstances, any achievement may count as a blessing and emolument. The physician Zhen Baili was originally a crude and mediocre man, but he took great care in treating patients. Whatever the size of their illness, he went at once to examine and treat them. One day, the emperor felt unwell, and someone recommended Zhen’s medical skill. He prescribed a dose of medicine, and the emperor recovered. As a result, he received special favor among the court physicians. For half a year he came and went from the palace, and had already accumulated more than twenty thousand pieces of gold. He also regularly kept more than three thousand jars of fine wine. These may not count as great blessings and emoluments, but for Zhen Baili, compared with his former life, were they not blessings and emoluments too? One should understand that whether blessings and emoluments follow someone also depends on that person.

The eulogy says:

Yan Hui lived in a humble lane; Boyi and Shuqi starved on Mount Shouyang; Yuan Xian spent his days in poverty, and Fan Pang suffered punishment. By ordinary standards, these men should have enjoyed good fortune and official rank. Their lot might seem almost like the reverse of what such rewards should bring. Yet we should understand that the virtue of these worthies shone alongside the sun and moon. The blessings and honors they received were enough to make their good names shine for a thousand years.

All kinds of evil spirits keep their distance from upright people.

The commentary explains: “The many evils” means all manner of improper things. Since they belong to many different kinds, they are called “the many evils.” In general, the upright and the evil follow different paths and cannot coexist. Wherever upright Qi (vital energy) reaches, evil spirits naturally have nowhere to remain. It is like the sun shining on a mountain of ice: the sun continues on its course, and the ice melts away.

As for “keeping their distance,” accounts from antiquity tell of sorcery that could not harm the Buddhist master Tanxian, and of a monster that dared not appear before Di Renjie. In the past, Daoist Lu Xiujing and others were skilled in incantations. With spells, they could make monks’ robes and the beams and pillars of palaces fly up and shake, and they boasted of their abilities, believing themselves to possess the powers of immortals. When the Buddhist master Tanxian heard of this, he rebuked them: “You dare show off these little tricks only because you have not yet met a worthy opponent!” He laid Chan Master Chou’s robe on the ground and told them to cast their spells. The Daoists worked together, but even after a long time they could not move the robe. Tanxian then placed it on a beam himself and told them to use their spells to shake the beams and pillars. They remained completely still. Lu Xiujing and the others were so ashamed that their faces turned pale.

In another account, Wu Sansi once bought a concubine named Su’e, whose beauty was extraordinary. He often displayed her at banquets for court officials. One day, he invited Di Renjie to a feast. As Di approached, Su’e hid and refused to come out. Wu Sansi went inside to call her, but she slipped into a narrow space in the inner room and spoke in a voice as fine as a silken thread: “I was originally a spirit of flowers and moonlight. Lord Liang is an upright man; how would I dare appear before him?” From then on, she was never seen again.

More recent accounts tell of Fang Qianzhi, who lived quietly and guarded his integrity, taking pleasure in understanding the principles of the Dao. People in the area where he lived often suffered from mountain malaria. Fang Qianzhi would write his name down for the sick, and every one of them soon recovered. When someone asked him for a remedy, he said: “I have heard that an upright mind can overcome evil spirits. My family is poor, and I have no possessions to give in charity. I simply recite the Daode Jing (Classic of the Way and Its Virtue) every day, rejoice in the good deeds of others, treat people with compassion, and dispel evil with a pure heart. I believe this both cultivates and corrects myself and drives away evil spirits. That is all.” This is an instance of evil spirits retreating at the sight of his name.

Zhang Gua’ya was steadfastly upright and would not yield. He was close friends with the reclusive sage Fu Lin. One day, the two met in the countryside near town and spent the night drinking and talking. At the time, a severe epidemic was spreading locally, and many people in the surrounding area had fallen ill. After that night, all the sick suddenly recovered. Clearly, the ghosts had departed. They withdrew because they had heard the two men’s names; this is an instance of evil spirits keeping their distance after hearing someone’s reputation.

Peng Da was detached from worldly concerns, had few desires, and was honest and cautious. He once served as governor of Huzhou. The local government residence had long been said to be haunted, and officials who held the post before him had never felt at ease there. After Peng Da took office, the strange beings vanished of their own accord. He never asked whether there were monsters, and they did not dare use their tricks. They remained quiet and caused no trouble at all. This is an instance of evil spirits retreating at the sight of the man himself. Was it not his virtue that made them unable to overpower him?

Yet Zhang Xuangan’s experience was different when he served as commissioner of the Huainan grain transport. After taking office, he was harassed by ghosts every day. A military officer who was skilled at dealing with ghosts was summoned to drive them away. When he arrived, he scolded them: “The commissioner of grain transport is an important official of the court. What sort of ghosts are you to dare offend him?” The ghosts laughed loudly and said: “Why should I fear someone like you? You just linger around the official world, casually seeking a salary and trying to secure recommendations.” After that, the ghosts became even more disruptive and harder to subdue. The officer’s words had no effect, which shows that neither man possessed the virtue needed to command the ghosts’ respect.

The eulogy says:

In an age when morality is taught, the uncanny powers of ghosts and spirits do not arise. When people’s bodies and minds are clear and upright, nothing in the world can conceal the truth. If the heart holds no evil thoughts, what lies within is sincerity. Once the will is steadfast, even the sudden crash of thunder will not cause fear. When righteous energy does not wane, what evil being would dare to intrude?

The spirits will protect such a person.

The commentary says: Spirits are beings who are wise and upright, and they are present everywhere. What people revere is virtue; what they draw close to is loyalty and filial devotion; what they uphold is integrity; what they accumulate is good done without expectation of reward (hidden virtue). How could anyone be without these four qualities? If someone truly possesses them, the spirits will surely protect them.

Long ago, when Duke Han Wei (the Northern Song statesman Han Qi) was transferred from Chengde Army to Zhongshan, his party was nearing Shahe when scouts ahead reported that the river had suddenly risen and could not be crossed. Duke Han said, “Now that we have come this far, what would be gained by turning back?” He ordered them to prepare boats at once. The party had only just crossed when the river behind them surged like mountains; some of the cavalry in the rear had not yet made it across. Local people who had come to receive relief all saw that, as Duke Han crossed, a divine dragon lay across the river upstream, holding back the waters and temporarily lowering the river level.

Mei Gongyi (the Northern Song official Mei Xun) once served as governor of Huazhou. One night, someone reported that the Yellow River’s banks had burst. Mei Gongyi personally led officials and soldiers to the river through the night, organizing repairs to the embankments along the way. At the most perilous moment, they clearly saw an old man with a white beard rowing a boat loaded with straw bundles and ferrying them back and forth to help. Everyone assumed he was a wealthy local and was greatly relieved. Once the floodwaters had subsided and dawn had come, Mei Gongyi ordered people to find the old man, but he was nowhere to be found. These are examples of spirits protecting people of virtue.

The eulogy says:

The nature of spirits is wisdom and uprightness. They dwell broadly above, discerning even the smallest things in the world. They drive away and restrain misfortune, and protect people of virtue. It is not that people ask spirits to grant them something; rather, the spirits fulfill their duty to protect. The wicked receive the opposite: the spirits punish them.

This concludes Volume Five of the Scripture on the Response of the Dao (Taishang Ganying Pian).

Volume Six of the Scripture on the Response of the Dao

Transmitted by Li Changling, with a eulogy by Zheng Qingzhi.

What one sets out to do will surely be accomplished.

Biographies tell us that there is no task in the world that is fated to remain undone, and no person under Heaven who is absolutely incapable of becoming accomplished. Once you set your mind on a goal, there is nothing you cannot achieve.

In the past, Zhang Zhongbin’s grandfather was originally a shrewd man of business, but he suddenly changed his mind and devoted himself to teaching his sons. His two sons, Zhang Zhongrong and Zhang Zhongbin, both later passed the metropolitan examination; the following year, Zhang Zhong’an passed it as well. Yu Lingyi was originally an ordinary townsman, but he too suddenly changed his mind and devoted himself to educating his children. His second son, Yu Jie, and his nephew, Yu Xiao, later both passed the metropolitan examination. Surely this shows that when a determined person sets out to accomplish something, how could it be beyond his reach? How much more so for those who strive to do good. The story of Master Dou makes this clear.

Dou Yujun was from Yanshan. At first, he dreamed that his grandfather said to him, “You have no sons, and your life will be short. Why not begin cultivating hidden virtue—doing good without seeking reward—to change your fate?” Dou Yujun was deeply alarmed when he heard this. From then on, whenever relatives by blood or marriage suffered a death in the family and could not afford the funeral, or had a daughter they could not afford to marry off, he gave them money to help. He even burned IOUs for unpaid debts, gave a servant’s daughter money for her marriage, and returned lost property to its owners. Whenever he had the chance to cultivate virtue, he never let it pass.

He also built forty rooms at his residence and collected more than ten thousand books. He invited upright and learned Confucian scholars to teach there, making the place available to anyone resolved to study. As a result, outstanding people gathered around him, and one after another, those who had studied under his roof rose to prominence. Dou Yujun himself attained the post of Left Grand Remonstrant and died peacefully at the age of eighty, without illness. Later, he became an Immortal of the Grotto Heavens, one who had attained the Dao. In his later years, he had five sons, all of whom passed the civil service examinations: Dou Yi became Minister of Rites, Dou Yan became Vice Minister of Rites, Dou Kan became Left Supplementary Censor, Dou Cheng took part in the central government, and Dou Xi became a Court Recorder.

Alas, he wished for a long life and obtained one; he wished for sons and had five; he sought office and rank, and received them. He delighted in cultivating virtue, and in the end attained the state of an Immortal. In light of this, can anything people set out to do in this world truly be impossible?

The eulogy says:

Those who seek benevolence ultimately attain it, as did Shuqi and Boyi; those who spend their days chasing profit meet the fate of a Zhidao. Heaven bestows blessings on the good, while evildoers suffer retribution as their crimes accumulate. The greedy, perverse, sinister, and deceitful may succeed for a time, but in the end, success and failure, good and evil, can be clearly seen.

The way of the Immortals is within reach.

Liu Ping’a was originally a physician, Wu Mu a low-ranking county official, Liu Yan a courtesan, Bao Jing a shopkeeper, He Sheng a butcher, Ding Yue a soldier, Zhu a bandit, and Li Zhengxuan a hunter. They all cultivated from ordinary people into immortals.

Consider figures from recent times: Chao Gongjiong became the Celestial Lord of Still Abode; Zhang Wenqi became the Perfected Lord of Destiny, who governs human lifespans; Wang Su became an attendant minister at the Jade Capital; Lü Hui became the Heavenly Emperor’s Inspector, an official who oversees investigations at the emperor’s side; Han Qi took charge of the Purple Palace; Fu Bi governed Kun Terrace; Wang the Elder oversaw the Iron Wheel of Assisting the Sage; Jin Sandan served as the Wind Master who Aids the Sage; Zhang Xiaoji became the principal deity of Mount Song; and Dou Yujun became a Perfected One of a grotto-heaven. In addition, Ouyang Xiu oversaw Divine Clarity, Wang Anguo oversaw the numinous fungus, Lü Zhen oversaw the Jade Assembly, Shi Yannian oversaw the hibiscus, Chen Jing served as a judicial registrar, and Tian Chengjun oversaw Weiyang. These people, too, had cultivated from mortal lives into immortals or received divine offices.

According to the scriptures, the Second Rank of the Central Origin now governs the Left Palace of Grotto Yang, which rules the Nine Imperial Earth Ramparts on earth as well as the Four Quarters and Eight Extremities—the four directions of Heaven and Earth and the farthest reaches in eight directions. The palace’s numinous officials and clerks number 999,990. All had performed meritorious deeds in life; after death, they were delivered and appointed to divine offices. He Xizhi, for instance, from the Tai tradition in our home region, benefited people by annotating the Diamond Sutra. After his death, he was appointed inspector of the Western Mountain and later held several other posts. Although this was an office in the Mountain’s celestial bureau, it too was attained through deliverance. In light of this, who can claim that the Way of the immortals is not worth pursuing?

Some people devote themselves to seeking immortality but ultimately fail to attain it. This is not because the Way of the immortals cannot be pursued, but because their deeds have not yet qualified them to become immortals. Have they never heard the words of the two Perfected Ones? Zhongli Quan said, “Immortals seek those who are ready to receive the Way even more eagerly than ordinary people seek to become immortals.” Lü Dongbin said, “People often regret that they cannot see me. But even if they saw me every day, what good would it do if they could not follow my words?” These remarks lament that people do not truly pursue the Way of the immortals or put the immortals’ teachings into practice.

In praise, it is said:

People often regard talk of immortals as vague and insubstantial. Emperor Wu of Han sought the immortals but never found them. This is like the Buddhist teachings about hell and heaven: if heaven truly exists, it should be where the loyal, honest, and kind dwell; if hell truly exists, it should be where the treacherous and petty end up.

To cultivate into a Celestial Immortal, a higher-ranking immortal, one should accumulate 1,300 good deeds. To cultivate into an Earthly Immortal, an immortal who dwells on earth, one should accumulate 300 good deeds.

A transmitted account says that the difference between Celestial and Earthly Immortals lies in how many good deeds they accumulate. The text has already explained this, so there is no need to discuss it further here. As the saying goes, “At the top of a hundred-foot pole, take one more step.” Those who have already become immortals should hope not to fall back, but to continue rising higher. Those who have not yet become immortals need not seek another method; they can attain this right where they are.

Shakyamuni said that there are ten kinds of immortals: Earth-Walking Immortals, Flying Immortals, Wandering Immortals, Sky-Walking Immortals, Heaven-Walking Immortals, Spirit-Passing Immortals, Dao-Walking Immortals, Illuminating Immortals, Essence-Cultivating Immortals, and Transcendent Immortals. Yet he also said that none of them followed the path of perfect awakening. Instead, they cultivated delusive thoughts, clinging to visualization and contemplation and to preserving their physical forms, while withdrawing into remote mountains and forests. Though they might live for millions of years, they still remained within the cycle of rebirth. Their cultivation was based on delusion and inversion; once their karmic blessings were exhausted, they would be reborn in various realms.

The methods cultivated by these immortals differ. Those who cling to consuming medicinal substances and persist until they master the way of nourishing themselves through food are called Earth-Walking Immortals. Those who cling to herbs and plants and persist until they master the way of medicines are called Flying Immortals. Those who cling to the refinement of metals and minerals and persist until they master the way of transformation are called Wandering Immortals. Those who cling to regulating movement and stillness and persist until they attain clear and harmonious breathing are called Sky-Walking Immortals. Those who cling to preserving seminal essence and persist until they attain the virtue of nourishment are called Heaven-Walking Immortals. Those who cling to Jing (essence), Qi (vital energy), and Shen (spirit), and persist until they master the absorption of their finest qualities, are called Spirit-Passing Immortals. Those who cling to incantations and ritual prohibitions, and persist until they master magical arts, are called Dao-Walking Immortals. Those who cling to thought and visualization, and persist until they master the power of recollection, are called Illuminating Immortals. Those who cling to sexual union and sympathetic response, and persist until they master the way of resonance, are called Essence-Cultivating Immortals. Those who cling to arts of transformation, and persist until they awaken to their own nature, are called Transcendent Immortals.

Zhongli Quan said that immortals fall into five kinds: ghost immortals, human immortals, Earthly Immortals, spirit immortals, and Celestial Immortals. Later, when someone asked what the Great Dao was, he replied: “The Dao cannot be asked about in words, and no words can answer the question. Among all things, the most intelligent and honored is the human being.”

If one can thoroughly investigate the principles of all things, fully realize one’s own nature, and thereby come to know the root of life, one can preserve life, nourish body and mind, and bring oneself into harmony with the Dao. One will then naturally become as firm and enduring as Heaven and Earth.

The first kind of person has not grasped the Great Dao and pursues quick results single-mindedly. Even if the mind is as still as dead ashes, the body as motionless as a withered tree, and the spirit and consciousness remain gathered within without wavering, this person has only refined an Yin Spirit from a state of concentration. In the end, such a person is no more than what is called a “ghost of clear emptiness.” They cannot become an immortal of pure Yang, and are therefore called a ghost immortal.

The second kind of person has heard the Dao among ordinary people, but, burdened by deep karmic obstacles and scant blessings, either retreats when faced with demonic hindrances or clings to one narrow approach, convinced that their practice must never change. Some abstain from the five flavors but know nothing of regulating the six Qi; they forget the seven emotions but do not understand the ten precepts. Some only swallow saliva and rinse their mouths, while mocking breathing exercises and the circulation of Qi as mistaken methods. Some pursue absorption and replenishment through sexual union, but call quiet cultivation foolish; they eagerly seek contact with external things, hoping to seize the Qi of Heaven and Earth. Some refuse to abstain from food and enjoy visualization in meditation, yet gather the essences of the sun and moon. Some refuse to practice Daoyin, which regulates the body through movement and breathing, and sit quietly instead, without understanding how to let the body bend and stretch naturally or how physical labor can exercise it. Still others do not understand the principle of Wuwei cultivation. Such people can only prolong their lives and enjoy peace and contentment; they are therefore called human immortals.

The third kind of person follows the patterns of ascent and descent in Heaven and Earth and takes the cycles of the sun and moon, and their rhythms of generation and transformation, as a guide. Within themselves, they coordinate their practice with the months and the times of day. They distinguish the Dragon and Tiger, symbols of Yin-Yang Qi in Neidan cultivation, and balance Kan and Li, which represent water and fire, or Yin and Yang. They discern the purity and turbidity of the water source, and the early and late phases of the climate’s movement; gather the true One Qi; observe the two modes of Yin and Yang; distinguish the Three Powers of Heaven, Earth, and humanity; differentiate the Four Symbols; arrange the Five Phases; regulate the six Qi; gather the seven treasures; set out the Eight Trigrams; and circulate the Five Phases. They reverse and transform the orientations of the nine regions, causing Qi to pass between mother and child and saliva to circulate between husband and wife. They then repeatedly circulate the upper, middle, and lower Dantian, the three centers used in the body’s Neidan practice, refining an elixir and storing it for a long time in the lower Dantian. Through this, they refine the body and remain in the human world, attaining long life without death. They are called earth immortals.

The fourth kind of person has already become an earth immortal but continues to practice diligently. They transcend the ordinary and enter the realm of the sages, then return to the Three Mountains, the fabled Daoist abodes of immortals. They are called divine immortals.

The fifth kind of person has already become a divine immortal and then teaches the Dao to the world, contributing to the Dao and performing good deeds as a human being. Once their merit and virtue are complete, they ascend to a grotto-heaven, a realm where immortals dwell, take up an appropriate office, and join the ranks of the celestial officials.

If one can still render service to Heaven and Earth and make a significant contribution to human society across the ages, one can gradually advance from that point, rise in the ranks of the immortals, and successively serve in the Thirty-six Grotto-Heavens—the abodes of immortals in Daoist teaching. One then returns to the Eighty-one Yang Heavens and ascends beyond them, entering the realm of emptiness and naturalness. This is called becoming a Celestial Immortal.

What, then, is the relationship between the “right awakening” (complete enlightenment) spoken of by Śākyamuni and the “Great Dao” spoken of by Zhongli? Right awakening is the Great Dao, and the Great Dao is right awakening. To know one’s original mind, one must not be led along by emotions and thoughts. Is Sengna’s teaching not also worth hearing? Sengna said: To understand your original mind, carefully examine and reflect upon it at every moment in the course of daily life—walking, standing, sitting, and lying down. When you see colors or hear sounds, look to see where the mind has gone at the instant before awareness and thought arise: is it present, or absent? Since the mind does not become attached to either “present” or “absent,” the mind-jewel naturally shines on its own, constantly illuminating the world without the slightest gap or momentary interruption. This is right awakening, and it is the Great Dao.

Thus, although Perfected Lü (Lü Dongbin) had not studied the art of alchemical gold-making, he was still able to transcend the mundane world. Later, when he heard the words “let the mind arise without abiding anywhere,” his heart and mind opened in a sudden illumination. Afterward, he also made offerings to monks at Xinghua Temple in Tanzhou. Perfected Sun (Sun Simiao), too, paid close attention to medical prescriptions and was thereby able to transcend the mundane world. He once consulted the Tang-dynasty Vinaya master Xuanlü about difficult questions, and later, in Chengdu, heard an unnamed wandering monk expound the “Treasure Tower” chapter. These examples show that even after cultivation reaches the top of a hundred-foot pole, one must take another step forward. Establishing good deeds is simply what one ought to do; one should do so even without seeking to become an immortal.

There are three hundred rules of ritual and three thousand rules of conduct. They must be practiced in human relationships if the human way is to be complete. Merit and good deeds accumulate without end, naturally unfolding in stages and in order. The various precepts and standards are comprehensive and exacting, leaving no detail neglected. This is the Way of the Immortals: to bring the human way into accord with the Way of Heaven.

If one commits acts contrary to righteousness and conducts oneself against reason,

Mencius said, “Principle and righteousness are what people’s hearts all recognize.” The “righteousness” Mencius spoke of means acting in accordance with reason. In general, moral principle resides in the human heart, and people cannot go against it. If they do, they are easily swept along by the current, sink into degradation, lose their integrity, and become base and vulgar, capable of doing anything. How could such people willingly settle into quietude and take pleasure in savoring the Great Dao? Here are two examples of exemplary men, offered in the hope that they may give people some sense of shame.

Long ago, Guo Yanqing was renowned for his writing and virtue. Disgusted by the shallow, frivolous ways of the age, he restored a garden in the southern part of the city and lived there for more than twenty years without ever setting foot inside the city. In his youth, he had been friends with Zhang Wending and Lü Wenmu. Zhang and Lü later became chancellors, one after the other, and recommended him to the court. He was appointed to office but refused to take up the post.

At the time, Qian Wenxi Weiyan served as prefectural governor, Xie Jiang as assistant prefect, Yin Zhu as secretary, and Ouyang Xiu as judicial commissioner. All were renowned in their day for their writing and virtue, and all admired Guo Yanqing’s character. One day, they dismissed their attendants and went together to visit him, speaking with him at length. Guo served them wine in earthenware vessels and offered fruit and vegetables as refreshments. Qian Wenxi appreciated the simplicity and ease of the setting, and drank freely without declining.

Toward evening, a servant came to report that the officials and guards from the prefectural residence were lined up in the courtyard, waiting. Guo Yanqing asked calmly, “What offices do you gentlemen hold, that you have brought so many attendants?” Yin Zhu pointed to Qian Wenxi and said, “This gentleman is the prefectural governor.” Guo replied, “I had no idea the governor would come today to visit a country man like me.” They looked at one another and laughed, then drank a few more cups. After sunset, Qian Wenxi and the others took their leave. Guo Yanqing walked them to the door and said, “I am old and often ill, so I cannot call on you in person. Please do not take offense.” Once in his carriage, Qian Wenxi felt as though he had come back from an immortal realm. He then exclaimed, “What, I wonder, does this man think of wealth and rank?” Here was a scholar-official who was content in quietude and took pleasure in savoring the Great Dao.

Du Wulang was originally a farmer, yet he too held firmly to his principles. He lived thirty li from the county seat, in just two small rooms: one for himself and one for his son. The rooms were bare, with nothing in them but a bed.

Sun Zhen, the assistant magistrate of Fanyang County, admired Du’s character and went to visit him when he had the chance. After a long while, Du Wulang said, “I am an inept villager. Why have you come to see me?” Sun then asked why he never went out. Du smiled and said, “I am of no use to the world, and I ask nothing of anyone. I simply happen not to go out.”

Sun asked how he made a living. Du Wulang replied, “I used to live south of the county seat, where I had half a qing of land and farmed it with my elder brother’s son. After my nephew married, I reckoned there would not be enough land to support us all, so I handed it over to him. Later I moved here with my wife and children. Someone in the village happened to have two empty rooms, so I borrowed them. At first I made a living by selling medicine and choosing auspicious dates for people. After my son grew up, villagers entrusted me with thirty mu of land to rent and cultivate. I had time to spare after farm work, so I took on some day labor. Gradually, our circumstances became more comfortable. I did not want to compete with others for profit, so I gave up all work involving medicine, divination, and the like.”

Sun asked what he did all day. Du Wulang replied, “I sit quietly.” Asked whether he had read the Confucian classics, he answered, “Twenty years ago, I read a book called the Jingming Jing, another name for the Buddhist Vimalakirti Sutra. At first, I thought its discussions made good sense and liked them very much. I have forgotten them now, and I do not even know where the book went.”

They talked for a long time. Du Wulang was relaxed in manner and concise in speech. Sun Zhen admired him deeply and exclaimed, “This is truly a man of the Dao.” From then on, he visited him many times. Here was a man in the countryside who was content in quietude and took pleasure in savoring the Great Dao.

Would those who go against moral principle, drift with the current, and do anything at all not feel ashamed when they see the conduct of these two men?

The encomium says: Laws are established according to their underlying principles, and their articles set out the standards. In judging circumstances, determining guilt, and setting punishments, not the slightest deviation is permissible. Even when people observe the rules with care down to the smallest detail, subtle errors may still occur. How much worse, then, to disregard the rules, act arbitrarily, and stray from the right path? If such people are not punished, how is Heaven’s Way to punish them?

To regard wrongdoing as a skill, and to be so heartless as to destroy life.

An ancient book says, “Heaven’s Way constantly looks after good people.” Yet you regard wrongdoing as a skill. The greatest virtue of Heaven and Earth is to nurture life, yet you are so heartless as to destroy it. Who could be more defiant of Heaven’s will and more ungrateful to Heaven and Earth? To be “skilled” here means to do wrong without thinking oneself at fault; to be “heartless” means to have no compassion at all. Of all wrongs, none is more serious; of all cruelty, none is more savage. Hell was established precisely to punish such people. When the ox-headed and A Pang demons, the wardens of hell, come for you, how could they pity you or spare you? We should hasten to use the principle of not bearing to harm living beings to put a stop to such acts. Perhaps this can prevent wrongdoing from being committed and becoming impossible to undo.

Long ago, a monk from the Western Regions named Juecheng came to China. When Yang Yi, a Song dynasty man of letters, met him, he treated him with courtesy. Later, Juecheng asked to leave, and Yang Yi could not persuade him to stay. He asked a translator to find out why. Juecheng said, “Where we come from, we do not eat meat at all. Now that I have come to China, everywhere I see pigs and sheep being slaughtered, and their meat hanging in shops at the market. I truly cannot bear to look at it. I do not wish to stay here. I plan to go for a time to Mount Wutai to pay my respects to the Bodhisattva Manjushri, and then return home.” In a poem by Huang Tingjian, there is a line that says, “Its tusks had already grown into little fists.” When Zhang Ge saw this line, he frowned, thinking the poet a cruel man. In fact, the poet was simply describing what he saw; the line did not mean that he was cruel by nature. Zhang Ge was a judicial official in Hanoi. His colleague, the assistant prefect Ge Fan, ate only vegetables and recited Buddhist scriptures. Zhang Ge, too, gave up meat, which explains his reaction. If people everywhere could learn as Juecheng and Zhang Ge did, and always feel that they could not bear to harm any living being, I dare say they would never regard wrongdoing as a skill, nor have the heart to destroy life.

Let us begin with this point, then briefly consider karmic retribution. Once, Lu Xiaozheng tried without success to catch a whole nest of bees. In anger, he poured boiling water over them, killing them all. Before long, at that very spot, a large bee stung him to death. Zhou Ang once slept during the day. A swallow’s nest was above his door, and three nestlings waited with their beaks open to be fed. In anger, he jabbed them with a thorny plant. All three swallows died with their chests torn open. Later, all three of his sons lost the ability to speak.

At Jinhua Temple, several cypress trees suddenly became infested with yellow caterpillars, nearly two inches long, which kept eating the leaves and branches. The monk Xiurong detested them and ordered people to sweep them up and bury them; some were thrown onto a woodpile. His disciple Xiuren then moved the woodpile out into the sun and waited for the caterpillars to die before using the wood for the fire. Several years later, Xiurong died. Another monk at the temple also died, but later revived. He told Xiuren, “When I reached the underworld, I saw Xiurong sitting in the blazing sun with an iron yoke around his neck. Thousands upon thousands of caterpillars crawled over his body, biting him without pause. His suffering was unbearable.” Xiuren was terrified when he heard this. Within a few days, he too died, from sores that broke out on his back.

Xiuzhun, a monk at Daci Temple, had recently built a small pavilion and planted bamboo all around it. Ants often crawled over the railing. In anger, Xiuzhun immediately cut down the bamboo and threw all the ants into a fire. Before long, he suddenly developed ringworm sores, especially severe on his head and face. After examining him, a doctor said, “These are ant fistulas. They cannot be cured.” He died soon afterward. Wang Yu was angered by the call of magpies and cut out their tongues while they were still alive; later, he died of sores on his tongue. Zhang Lin was angered by the croaking of frogs and scalded them with hot ashes; later, he was suddenly burned by something boiling hot. Given all this, how can people treat the myriad things by regarding wrongdoing as a skill and being heartless enough to destroy life? Would such acts not bring the punishment of retribution?

The hymn says:

Zhi Bo had great wisdom, and Pen Chengkuo great talent. Yu Shun recommended Dan Zhu, calling him intelligent, while King Wu of Qin praised E Lai for his agility. These people were exceptionally gifted, like trees standing out in a village, conspicuous to all. If they had put their abilities to work for good, who could have stopped them? How tragic, then, to use those abilities to foster evil!

Secretly harming the good.

The Records say that Chen Ping was accustomed to plotting in secret, and knew that doing so might sever his line of descendants. Gongsun Hong treated people with kindness on the surface, yet later won no lasting reputation for distinction. In general, those who plot harm in secret often pretend to be friendly, while those who appear friendly may conceal harmful intent. This is like shooting at something with a sling from the shadows: others can hardly notice. One should not act this way toward anyone, least of all toward good people. Good people are those whom the people look up to. In a state, they reflect the standing of the whole state; in a village, they reflect the standing of the whole village. How can anyone secretly harm them?

Long ago, before Li Linfu rose to prominence, he met a Daoist at the Locust Altar. The Daoist warned him: “Your name has already been entered in the registers of the immortals. Even if you do not ascend in broad daylight, you are sure to serve as a peaceful prime minister for twenty years. When you hold power in the future, remember my words: do not casually harm people in secret.” Once Li Linfu became prominent, he forgot this warning. Relying on imperial favor, he wantonly harmed many people.

Much later, he dreamed again of the Daoist, who challenged him: “Have you forgotten my words? Now, just as foretold, you are to suffer.” The Daoist ordered an underworld attendant to take him somewhere. Li Linfu heard only the rustling of wind and water beside his ears. When they arrived, he saw orderly buildings and beautiful bed curtains, and tried to console himself: “Even if I have to live here, it is not so bad.” The Daoist laughed and said: “This is where the scaled creatures of the waters live. Their suffering is beyond endurance. You still think this is not so bad—what, then, would you call suffering?” Li Linfu was terrified and drenched in sweat. Then he awoke. This story says that those who secretly harm the good will be reborn among the creatures of the waters after death.

Xu Wengui was once taken by an underworld attendant to the realm of the dead. Because he had saved someone’s life, he was granted twelve more years to live and then returned to the human world. As he was leaving, he saw a heavily guarded gate and asked the official accompanying him what place it was. The official said: “This is the Great Prison. Anyone who, in the human world, falsely accuses the loyal, corrupts the virtuous, or habitually harms others in secret will be tried and punished here after death, regardless of status.” This story says that those who secretly harm the good will certainly enter hell after death. Who can say that such conduct is without fault?

You should understand that what is open and clear, easily seen through, is close to Yang; what is deceitful and sinister, hidden and unfathomable, is close to Yin. To harbor dark intentions throughout one’s life and return to darkness after death is only to be expected; there is nothing strange about it. Are not the realm of the water creatures and the realm of hell both places of darkness?

The commentary says: Violating, destroying, and tampering with laws all constitute offenses against the law. Killing someone in a fight and killing someone by premeditation are both murder. But when guilt is judged, the circumstances differ in severity. One may deliberately scheme with cunning and plan in secret, as though even ghosts and spirits could not detect it. Yet once the deed is done, it will surely hit its mark—and bring harm back upon the perpetrator.

“To secretly deceive the ruler and one’s parents” means showing respect on the surface while being disloyal and unfilial at heart.

For a minister, it means behaving with nothing but treachery and deceit, wantonly misleading and obscuring the truth from the ruler. For a child, it means making a show of filial conduct without genuine feeling within. Any minister or child who fails to serve the ruler or parents with sincere devotion is guilty of secretly deceiving them. If ministers treat their ruler this way, and children treat their parents this way, what can rulers and parents hope to receive from them? Such conduct undermines moral instruction and turns away from the right path; nothing could be more serious. That is why the Most High singled it out in particular.

In the past, when Cao Wuhui Bin held an important post, he would often sit upright in his official robes as though standing before the ruler and his father. At home, too, he would close his doors and live quietly, receiving visitors only when necessary. At daybreak, in the fifth watch, he would wait outside the palace gate to attend court. He kept to this practice for eight years, never wavering, even through frost, snow, and bitter cold.

Even at home, Duke Wang Wenzheng Dan conducted himself with the same restraint as in court. One day, after returning from court, he immediately dressed himself properly, entered his quiet room, and sat in silence, refusing to come out. His family grew very worried and hurriedly sent his younger brother to ask Zhao Anren what was wrong. Zhao Anren said, “Just now, while matters were being discussed, Duke Wang opposed the proposed course of action. Since no decision had been made, he returned home. He must be worrying about affairs of state.” Would those who secretly deceive their ruler not feel ashamed when they see such examples?

When Guo Cong was young, his father died, leaving only his mother. He often lamented that he could never repay his parents for raising him. For thirty years he abstained from meat and wine, praying devoutly morning and evening and devoting himself to asking that his mother might live a long life. His mother, Lady Zhang, did indeed live to the age of 104. Her sight and hearing remained keen, and her appetite did not diminish.

Meng Xi was an ordinary townsman who supported his parents by selling fruit each day. Though he had received no formal education, he carried out every duty of filial service with care: keeping his parents warm in winter and cool in summer, greeting them morning and evening, and informing them when he went out and paying his respects when he returned. Even many scholars could not match him. After his father died, Meng Xi slept on the ground during the mourning period and ate no salt or dairy products. His grief became so intense that it nearly cost him his life. He continued this way for three years without wavering. Would those who secretly deceive their parents not feel ashamed when they see such examples?

Because they dared not secretly deceive their ruler or parents, the Cao and Wang families prospered greatly. Guo Cong received the emperor’s commendation, and an honorific plaque was awarded to his family. Later, while digging in the ground, Meng Xi found gold beneath his hoe and became wealthy. From this we can see that Heaven has never failed to reward the loyal and filial.

Treat others with respect and do not bully them. A deceitful person cannot hide his true nature for long. Serving one’s father and being loyal to one’s ruler are the greatest expressions of reverence. If you do not give them your wholehearted devotion, you are simply deceiving them. Since you already have this human form, you should fulfill your duties as a subject and as a son. Even if you claim not to understand, the spirits see everything with perfect clarity.

Showing Contempt for One’s Teacher

The “teacher” meant here is someone who teaches principles, imparts learning, and helps others resolve their doubts. Even if you were inspired by only a single sentence, or learned only one character from a teacher, it still came from that teacher. How, then, could you treat them with contempt?

In the past, when Hu Anding (Hu Yuan) served as a teacher, Qian Zao was known for his depth and integrity, Sun Jue for his purity and insight, Fan Chunren for his uprightness and warmth, and Qian Gongfu for his simplicity and honesty. All were celebrated figures of their time. They served their teacher with the same respect that children and younger kin show a father or elder brother. There was never any report of them neglecting their teacher.

When Sun Mingfu (Sun Fu) served as a teacher, Shi Jie was widely learned, while Zhang Dong was quick-witted and broadly informed. Both were worthy men from Lu. When they accompanied their teacher, they followed his movements, bowing and stepping forward or back as he walked. When he performed a bow, they stood by with his staff and shoes, attending him with great respect. There was no report of them treating their teacher with contempt.

There was also Peng Ruli, an official of the rank of daizhi. As a young man, he studied under Ni Tianyin of Sulu. Later, when he became an official in Baoxin Army, he invited Tianyin to live in a study pavilion at his residence and respectfully performed the rites of a student. When Tianyin died, his mother had not yet been buried. The following year, his wife also died, and he had no sons. Peng Ruli arranged burials for all three: Tianyin’s mother, his wife, and Tianyin himself. He also arranged for Tianyin’s daughter to marry Song Huan, who had passed the presented-scholar examination in the same year as he had.

Wang Cun, a minister of the Board of Rites, studied under Chen Jun of Yingchuan when he was young. After Chen Jun died without a son, Wang Cun arranged for his own younger brother’s son to inherit the Chen family and secured him an official post, so that Chen Jun’s wife would have support. These men did not forget their debt of gratitude even after their teachers had died. How, then, could they have dared to neglect them while they were alive?

Those who treat teachers with contempt are merely shallow and frivolous people. Sadly, they do not understand that teachers have much to be respected for: enlightening those who have yet to grasp the Way accumulates great hidden virtue, and the future prosperity of a student’s descendants is often impossible to foresee. The story of the Wang family makes this clear.

Long ago, there was a Mr. Wang who lived in extreme poverty and supported himself by teaching village children. In his old age, he had a son. By the time the child was eight, Wang could no longer afford to raise him, so he sent him to serve as a novice at the Western Temple. The monk recognized at once that the boy was exceptional, enrolled him in school, and spared no expense in supporting his education. Later, during the Xianping era, the boy passed the examination for worthy and upright men. He rose to become an assistant grand councilor and commissioner of the Privy Council, earning great renown and distinguishing himself through his achievements in government. He was Wang Wen’kang, known as Wang Shu. Wang Shu’s son, Wang Yirou, became a scholar of the Longtu Pavilion. His grandsons, Wang Jinxing and Wang Jinyan, both attained the rank of grand master, were noted for their virtue, and associated with men such as Shao Yong. In view of this, how could a teacher ever be treated with contempt?

The encomium says:

A father gives us life, and a teacher instructs us; these two forms of kindness are often spoken of together. When it comes to imparting principles and teaching one’s studies, which is truly fundamental? In mourning, there are prescribed rites such as wearing sackcloth and hempen belts, and one must also observe three years of mourning in one’s heart. The bonds most highly valued among human relationships accord with the principles of Heaven as well. There is no greater wrong than neglecting someone one reveres.

Betraying someone one serves.

The scripture says: Officials serve their superiors, soldiers their commanders, and servants and concubines their masters. “Betrayal” does not necessarily mean openly rebelling. If, when someone faces an urgent difficulty, you cannot be counted on, or if you refuse concern and assistance when their fortunes are at stake, that too is betrayal. Here I offer one or two examples involving servants and soldiers, in the hope that those of higher standing than servants and common soldiers will feel ashamed by comparison.

Long ago, the servant Zhao Yansi served Wang Linji, a gentleman-in-waiting. Wang had been in charge of drafting imperial edicts for less than a year when he and his father died one after the other. His family was already poor and could no longer afford to raise the children. Out of a sense of duty, Zhao Yansi stayed. He did all he could to raise Wang’s three daughters for more than ten years, though he never once saw them. When the girls had grown up, he went to the capital to visit Wang’s former colleagues, the Hanlin scholar Bai and Vice Minister Yang Huizhi. Weeping aloud, he told them the whole story. Astonished, the two men said in shame, “Neither of us could match what you have done.” They pooled their money to bring the three sisters back to the capital, found suitable husbands for them, and arranged their marriages to men of good standing. Shi Shoudao of Culai, known as Master Culai and a Song dynasty scholar, wrote a biography of Zhao Yansi specifically to encourage people to uphold their sense of duty.

Wang Kui first served Li Tan, a director of farmland administration, as his servant. Later, he enlisted as a soldier and was selected for the Bangri Army. It happened that Li Tan and his son were imprisoned in the Censorate over a case. None of their usual friends or acquaintances dared send them food or other comforts. Only Wang Kui waited every day at the Censorate gate to bring them meals, keeping it up for more than forty days without fail. After the case was concluded, Li Tan was banished to Nan’en Prefecture. All his attendants took leave and departed, but Wang Kui alone accompanied him on the journey. Li Tan was suddenly overcome with grief and anger and took his own life. Wang Kui arranged his funeral and wept as if Li Tan had been his own father. Everyone who witnessed it was moved to tears. He did not dare leave until everything was taken care of. Sima Wengong, Sima Guang, also wrote a biography of Wang Kui, to admonish people in the world who lack a sense of duty.

From this we can see that those who were once valued by someone but abandon them as soon as their fortunes are at stake are worse than servants and soldiers such as Zhao Yansi and Wang Kui.

The encomium says: Rulers, teachers, and elders govern and instruct us, and we have also received their kindness. We should therefore regard them as people to serve and honor them according to their station. Kinship and moral duty rest upon this, and should be passed on to our descendants. Servants repay their masters, and dogs and horses show devotion to the carriage they serve; how much more should human beings do so? I think of the words once spoken by Ying, an ancient, as though he were still voicing his lament beneath the Nine Springs, the realm of the dead.

Deceiving the ignorant.

The Commentary says: The Śūraṅgama Sūtra states that those who confuse the ignorant and lead sentient beings into doubt and error should fall after death into the Avīci Hell, the Buddhist hell where suffering never ceases. In light of this, how could the sin of deceiving others be slight?

Long ago, at the Taiqing Palace in Bozhou, there was a Daoist who made a great show of himself. He often carried a small brazier and refined medicines for sale in front of the Hall of Laozi. When people gathered, he would point at Laozi’s image and loudly declare, “I am Laozi’s teacher.” The crowd was greatly taken in, and everyone wanted to buy more of his medicine.

One day, as he was boasting and pointing at the image, flames suddenly leapt from the brazier and flew onto him. In an instant, the fire blazed up and engulfed his whole body. People threw water on him to put it out, but the fire would not go out. He cried and leapt about in agony. After a long while, he faced Laozi’s image, fell prostrate, and lay still, as if awaiting punishment. When the crowd examined him, he was dead. It is said that Yang Kedong heard of this from the coroner at the time, and confirmed the account with certainty.

Zhang Huaishu was also striking in appearance. He claimed that his Daoist arts reached the divine, and that birds and beasts would come when he called. He even said that he had been present when Confucius executed Shaozheng Mao, and had urged Confucius not to act too soon. He also claimed to have watched from a height when the armies of Han and Chu fought at Chenggao. Even a treacherous man like Cai Bian was taken in by him and often praised him lavishly before his guests. Only the loyal and upright Chen Guan refused to believe him. Later, Zhang Huaishu’s affair was exposed and he was punished. Many renowned scholars were implicated and falsely accused, but Chen Guan alone escaped.

In light of this, can those who deceive the ignorant escape the calamities they ultimately bring upon themselves? Most deceivers think only of making money and have no fear of punishment. Monks deceive by speaking of emptiness; adepts deceive by refining elixirs and making medicines; spirit mediums deceive through claims about ghosts and gods; and practitioners of medicine and divination deceive through their respective arts. How can they know that the sin of lying and deception not only brings calamity, but may also cause them to fall into the great hells?

The encomium says:

Mockery wounds more deeply than anger, and harboring malice is more frightening than being struck by a weapon. To slight others, make fun of them, deceive them, and lead them astray is truly not the conduct of a reasonable person. Even fish in deep water may leap above the surface, and gulls by the water are easily startled. How much more so with people, who are of the same kind as you and me and are the most perceptive of all beings? To treat deception as cleverness is like covering your own ears while stealing a bell, imagining that no one else can hear it.

Slandering classmates and companions.

An old book says there are five human relationships: ruler and subject, parent and child, elder and younger siblings, husband and wife, and friends. People live within at least one of these relationships. Given that, the moral obligations between friends…