《太上洞玄灵宝中和经》

The Dao (the Way)—the fundamental law of the cosmos—takes centered harmony as its De (Virtue/Power). Forces that violate this harmony come into conflict with one another. Thus, when Heaven and Earth are in accord, the myriad things can sprout and flowers and fruits can ripen; when those above and below in a state live in harmony, the realm is peaceful and the people are at ease; when a family is harmonious, the father is kind and the children are filial, and Heaven sends down blessings and good fortune. The wise should ponder this principle deeply—how could one fail to value harmony?

When Heaven and Earth lose harmony, the movement of Yin-Yang falls into disorder. Abnormalities appear, such as thunder in winter, frost in summer, and waters out of balance; the myriad things go against their nature, and flowers and leaves wither. When a state loses harmony, ruler and ministers deceive one another, the strong oppress the weak, the borders are harassed, warfare breaks out on every side, the realm is thrown into turmoil, and the people cannot dwell in peace. When a family loses harmony, the father is unkind and the children unfilial; elders and juniors quarrel and resent one another, grievances accumulate, and even ghosts and spirits seem disturbed, until at last the family’s fortunes decline. All these calamities arise from disharmony. When Heaven and Earth are out of harmony and Yin-Yang is disordered, disasters befall the people; when a household is out of harmony and its members turn their anger upon one another, misfortune is likewise invited.

The worthy explain these principles again and again because they fear that people will violate the rules, indulge themselves in wrongdoing and refuse to repent, or give way to a moment’s resentment so that faults accumulate ever more deeply. They therefore urge everyone repeatedly: cultivate with sincere attention, encourage one another toward progress, cast off former evil deeds, and practice the good of the present. When one’s virtue accords with the Dao, body and mind become settled. Joy and anger do not disturb the inner heart; evil words do not leave the mouth; ugly and vile matters are not admitted to the ear; things that stir lust and the pursuit of profit are not taken in by the eyes; and craving is not fixed upon the mind. When one rectifies oneself and practices diligently, true Qi (vital energy)—the subtle breath on which life and cultivation depend—draws near, while deviant Qi withdraws. Faults and evil deeds are eliminated, and good fortune arrives of itself.

In believing and following the Dao one must not fail to be diligent; in serving teachers and elders one must not fail to be respectful; in serving parents one must not fail to be filial; in serving the ruler one must not fail to be loyal; and one must also treasure one’s own person. Precepts must not go unheeded; fellow followers of the Dao must not be kept at a distance; outward conduct must not go uncorrected; right and wrong, the unreal and the real, must not go undistinguished; speech must not be careless; and misfortune must not go unguarded against. The learned must not go unconsulted, and the ignorant must not go untaught. Benevolence and righteousness must not go unpracticed, and kindness must not go unbestowed. The orphaned, the suffering, and the weak must not go without compassion; the poor and the lowly must not go without relief; and those in distress must not go without aid. Evil deeds must not go unshunned, sensual desire must not go unrestrained, wealth and profit must not be pursued to excess, and even those who do evil must not be left without an effort to transform them. The wise should ponder these words deeply.

If a person’s conduct fails to accord with the laws and precepts of the Dao, yet that person still hopes to obtain Heaven’s protection, it is very difficult. Doing good brings blessings; doing evil brings punishment. If one suffers punishment yet does not reflect on former faults, and instead says that following the Dao now brings no benefit, blaming August Heaven, then one hesitates, draws back, and lets the mind wander elsewhere. Companions infect one another with their habits and give rise to all manner of confusion; they form factions and follow one another, leading people into deviance, falsehood, and wickedness. When the ignorant act in this way, they are far indeed from the Dao.

The great Dao is vast and boundless; Heaven, Earth, and the myriad things all lie within it. The net of Heaven enfolds human beings, and people live within that net just as fish swim in a great net without knowing where its boundaries lie. When the net is drawn tight, the fish are caught; when it is loosened, they slip free. That people do not know how vast the true Dao is, is like fish not knowing that they are inside a net. The foolish sometimes abandon the true Dao and chase after emptiness and delusion. This may seem effective for a time, but it cannot last. If those who turn away from the Dao are not punished at once, it is because the great Dao is generous and cherishes human life, allowing people to act according to their own intentions; after their moment of gratification, they will come to regret it of themselves. The great Dao is profound and far-reaching; it is not something the ignorant and worldly easily understand.

The great Dao regards human beings as a mother regards her children. It cherishes life and abhors killing, and in the end does not itself put people to death. For those who do evil without cease, there are the Siguo—divine officers who inspect and record transgressions—who note their evil deeds. When faults accumulate and culpability reaches its full measure, the Sisha—divine officers who carry out punishment by death—punish them. Therefore, those who wish to remove calamity and return to the correct Dao should diligently observe the teachings and precepts and must not violate them.

The Dao takes Wuwei (non-action) as its highest state. People’s faults accumulate mostly because they cling to willful and reckless action. The great Dao practices Wuwei, and therefore it can endure forever. Heaven and Earth emulate the Wuwei of the great Dao and thereby accord with the Dao. The True Person emulates the Wuwei of the great Dao and therefore can attain immortality. The Wuwei of the Dao is not doing nothing at all; rather, it is able to bring all things to completion. If people can cultivate and keep the teachings and precepts, and continually accumulate good deeds, merit will be established, their persons will communicate with Heaven, and blessings will pass on to their descendants. This is what the worthy delight in pursuing, yet the foolish are unwilling to heed it. Those who seek learning and cultivate the Dao should strive to practice diligently.

The Dao (the Way) says: For anyone who wishes to cultivate and become an immortal, the essential point is that the Great Dao appears to be Wuwei (non-action), yet there is nothing it cannot accomplish. If a person is able to cultivate, carefully observe the teachings and precepts, and continually do good and accumulate De (Virtue/Power), merit is naturally established. One can then bring one’s own person into communion with the Dao of Heaven, and blessings will extend to one’s descendants as well. This is what the wise are glad to pursue, while the foolish are unwilling to heed it. Those who cultivate the Dao should exert themselves and practice diligently.

The Dao says: Whoever has received the teachings and precepts ought to carry them out. In doing so, those of the highest capacity may attain immortality, those of the middle capacity may increase their lifespan, and those of the lower capacity may still prolong their years and will not die young without cause. Those who go against the master’s teaching may fail to live out the years allotted to them and may die in sudden disaster. How lamentable! Why do the wise not cultivate goodness and thereby return to the Way of long life? Even if one cannot reach the middle level of De, one should still cultivate basic De: nourish one’s own person, restrain love and desire while living in the world, and change those worldly ways of acting that do not accord with the Dao. One can then come into accord with the Dao.

First, one must not indulge in sexual desire or give free rein to deviant thoughts. This exhausts the heart and Shen (spirit) and injures Jing (essence) and Qi (vital energy), so that the hun and po souls cannot rest securely in their places. When upright Qi declines, deviant Qi seizes the opening and enters, and illness then harms the body.

Second, one must not give free rein to joy and anger, store up resentment and burst into rage, shout abuse, swear oaths and lay curses, cry out to heaven and earth, and alarm ghosts and spirits. If this happens again and again, resentful Qi accumulates in the heart, damages the five viscera, injures one’s own person, and may even make illness difficult to cure. Within the body of one who reveres the Dao and cultivates, celestial officials, officers, and troops stand guard. If the precepts are violated repeatedly, these officers and troops report the faults to the Celestial Bureau, the office in heaven charged with records and inspection. When faults accumulate into guilt, they are entered on the registers and contracts of life and death, the documents that record lifespan and culpability: the left contract reduces the allotted years, and the right contract marks death. Where the fault is slight, punishment falls upon oneself; where the guilt is heavy, the calamity also implicates one’s descendants.

Third, one must not harbor malice or envy others, nor constantly hold thoughts of harming people. The heart is the ruler of the five viscera, and emotions such as joy and sorrow are all governed by the heart. Once Shen is unsettled, the other spirits are disturbed as well. When Shen and Qi fall into disorder, they overcome one another. This precept, therefore, must above all not be violated. If it is violated again and again, calamity will injure one’s own person.

Fourth, one must not leave the body long defiled, nor drink wine to the point of confusion, allowing one’s disposition to change and one’s conduct to run wild, doing evil without regard for the prohibitions. Still less may one fail to recognize the dignity of ruler and father, recklessly reviling them in disobedience and unfiliality. Such conduct brings down calamity from Heaven and disaster upon oneself.

Fifth, one must not covet wealth and goods. Wealth and goods are like filth and dirt; they should be taken up and used as occasion requires, and one must not cling to them. In former times customs grew daily more shallow, and people knew only how to covet treasure and scheme single-mindedly for profit: when they obtained what they wanted they rejoiced, and when they did not they resented and grew angry. Once strife broke out, they even took up blades and wounded one another. Greed for wealth and love of gain are enemies that injure one’s own person. After death one’s reputation is ruined as well—of what use, then, are wealth and goods?

Those who hear the precepts and are willing to follow them have a settled mind and know that these acts must not be transgressed. Those who abandon the precepts and turn instead to chasing profit, however, suddenly give rise once more to greedy thoughts. It is as dangerous as walking on ice and as perilous as stepping into empty space, and one’s very life may be overturned because of it. Only when ruin draws near do they think of repenting; only after guilt has already been fixed do they say they will do good. Once faults have accumulated to the full, even the Dao of Heaven cannot save them. Treasure and sexual desire cast people into disaster. The wise keep far from them; the foolish delight in pursuing them.

Whether sitting or rising, sleeping or reclining, raising a hand or moving a foot, advancing or drawing back, the wise at every moment keep deep watch upon themselves and do not let their conduct stray from the correct path. For this reason they are able to receive blessings.

The Dao (the Way) says: Look at the people of the Dao in the world. Those who truly devote themselves wholeheartedly to cultivating the Dao are hard to find even across ten thousand miles. Why is this so? Because after high antiquity, worldly customs grew ever shallower, and this too was the result of the spirit of the age. People contend for superiority and covet reputation, official salary, and the pomp of wealth and rank. Benevolence and righteousness are no longer practiced, and cunning schemes and deceit are taken for cleverness. Fathers and sons deceive one another; rulers and ministers conceal the truth from each other. People pass requests from one intermediary to another and buy office with money. The loyal and upright are dismissed, while the flattering and wicked are instead employed. Bands of the treacherous form factions for private gain and show favor to intimates and hypocrites. The rich and noble cling to one another, while the poor and lowly are cast aside together. Carriages, horses, clothing, and the like are pursued for luxury and gaudy display, and this fashion grows more prevalent by the day. Whether persons of integrity or petty persons, all drift with the current and sink intoxicated into worldly life—how could they still give a thought to the Dao?

Such people are foolish and shallow, and not worth envying. If they happen to attain prominence and splendor, they grow arrogant, extravagant, and unrestrained, caring only to indulge their whims and observing no rules or standards. The Dao is clear, still, and void, and does not receive people of this kind. The bright spirits likewise withdraw from them, and evil ghosts seize the chance to harass them. Some even feign goodness while turning their backs on the true, praying to ghosts and spirits in order to seek advantage. The net of Heaven’s Dao is vast and closely woven; it is only that punishment has not yet descended. It is like a meal already steamed and a fire already out, with residual heat still left in the steamer: how long can that leftover heat last? Evildoers who for the moment have not met with punishment are likewise only like the residual heat in the pot; it cannot endure.

The worthy and wise are those whom people wish to draw near. People hope to do good throughout their lives, and they also loathe death and decline—is this not ordinary human feeling? Heaven and Earth turn according to the principle of impartial justice: those who do good receive the gift of life as their reward, and those who do evil receive death as their punishment. Good and ill fortune, calamity and blessing, come from what is hidden, subtle, and hard to fathom. Disaster and misfortune are not something the rich and noble can escape merely by praying, nor something the poor and lowly are fated to bear. Cultivate goodness, and there is blessed recompense; do evil, and one invites calamity. Even if a ruler possesses countless treasures, when a crisis arrives, though he exhaust the wealth of an entire city and offer great quantities of gold to beg for life and a longer span of years, can he actually obtain it?

Foolish people, seeing the rich and noble, all want wealth and rank themselves, and they contrive every means to keep it, exhausting heart and strength, yet what they obtain is not necessarily abundant. If one wishes to attain what one hopes for, one ought to cultivate and keep in mind the methods of the Dao. The whole household, old and young, of one heart and one intention, should sweep the place clean, burn incense and sit in stillness, and with a grave and pure attitude report their wishes to the spirits. The mind of one who cultivates the Dao is empty, still, and penetrating—what is there that cannot call forth a response? In seeking one’s wishes one need not use gold, silver, jade, and silk, nor bribes of wealth and goods; one need not ask others to intercede, still less offer wine and meat in sacrificial prayer. So long as one sincerely turns toward the Dao and acts in accordance with the Dao, one can obtain what one seeks, just as one’s own heart intends, without elaborate display. If one imitates worldly people, turning away from the methods of the Dao and relying on petitions and favors, things on the contrary often come to nothing.

If one wishes to obtain blessed recompense and the desires of the heart, one ought to be single-minded and diligent, refining one’s practice with care, remaining pure morning and evening, burning incense and holding the mind in collected contemplation. Sought in this way, there is no blessed recompense that fails to respond. Those who love the Dao have blessings and merit without measure; those who do not love it are likewise decided by their own original heart. The Ultimate Dao is broad and vast, and leaves the choice to each person. The worthy keep the Dao in mind and advance with diligence, always fearing that their cultivation is still not enough; the foolish slight the Great Dao, yet they too may not be able to remain far from its influence. This is the difference between the worthy and the foolish. Those who seek to learn and cultivate the Dao ought to exert themselves and practice with diligence.

When households that revere the great Dao (the Way) meet with disaster, illness, death, lawsuits, disputes, or other adversities, it is because they have not practiced the methods of the Dao with enough diligence. Although they know that the great Dao is exalted and wish to revere it, what they actually do is no different from ordinary worldly people. They try to disturb the orthodox Way with deviant and false practices, but this can never succeed. Such people may revere the great Dao in name and look to it for protection, yet the Dao will not come to their aid. The wicked are foolish, and few of them can restrain themselves, repent and begin anew, and turn sincerely toward the great Dao. Instead they stray ever further from the orthodox Way and resent the Dao in their hearts for failing to respond. Once they have died, what use is regret? It is truly pitiful.

The wise must set their thoughts aright and dare not grow slack; they should constantly discipline themselves and cultivate in earnest. The great Dao is supreme and boundless. It embraces Heaven and Earth and commands the host of spirits (Shen). Every living thing between Heaven and Earth, whether a flying insect or the tiniest creature, is born of the Dao so long as it contains primordial Qi (vital energy)—the original breath of which life is constituted. The power of the Dao reaches everywhere. Everywhere it responds, dispels, and subdues. It holds the mechanisms of Heaven and directs the myriad spirits.

The Dao was born before Heaven and Earth. It is empty, still, and vast, without limit. Human life between Heaven and Earth passes in an instant, like the spark struck when stones collide. The great Dao is generous and encompassing, and it cherishes human life. Yet human life is fragile, so the great Dao teaches people to cultivate diligently and to do good. If, however, people do not constantly keep the Dao in mind and do not diligently do good, but instead turn away from the orthodox Way, ignore its teachings and precepts, and crave only wealth and rank, fame and profit, treasure and beautiful forms—drinking wine, eating meat, indulging desire, and living in excessive pride and luxury—how could they still give a thought to the Dao? If people do not keep the Dao in mind, the Dao will not keep them in mind either. People are like fish: with water they live, and without water they die. Once they have left the great Dao, how can they hope for long life?

The essential point, therefore, is to cultivate vigorously and constantly abide in the supreme Dao. Those who wish to preserve their nature and life should correct their former faults and go on cultivating goodness. When they see others at fault, they should exhort and admonish one another and teach people to do good. By accumulating good deeds and obtaining the corresponding efficacy, one can receive boundless blessings.

The Dao has no physical form, and one cannot see exactly how it operates. To obtain its blessing, one must rely on actual practice and remain pure and still day and night. When one sees a person who is ill, one should do one’s utmost to help. Whether a matter is urgent or can wait, people should look after one another. One must not use cleverness to deceive the foolish, nor rely on power to oppress others and inflict violence at will, still less falsely invoke the names of spirits and ghosts to frighten the ignorant. Some who understand only a little then boast, puff themselves up, and slight others; they suspect and slander one another and talk behind one another’s backs. Those who cultivate the Dao must not honor the noble while despising the poor, nor harbor partiality or hatred. Still less may they seek blessing by following private feeling, treat the pursuit of blessing as a personal favor, and thereby harm the orthodox teaching, only to suffer harm themselves in the end. Those of like aspiration should seek one another out; those of similar insight should inspire one another; and fellow cultivators should instruct one another.

If among men and women there are those who cannot read but who devote themselves wholeheartedly to the Dao, they may go to people who understand the Jing (scriptures/classics) and listen to the recitation of scriptural texts and precepts, gathering to study in quiet dwellings. They may also sweep the main hall clean, set their bearing in order, settle the body, and calm the mind and spirit, listening with full attention. They should not clamor at random or chatter idly, nor act improperly or let the mind wander, nor fail to keep the heart on the scriptures and precepts, drifting off in drowsiness and vainly wearying spirit and effort. If they can follow the precepts and advance without weariness, they will surely receive blessings. The celestial officers and their troops—spirit-officials who act under Heaven’s mandate—will also come to protect them and drive away every kind of calamity.

Among all things, human beings are the most precious. People live between Heaven and Earth knowing the year and month of their birth, yet not knowing the day of their death. The worthy and the wicked, the rich and noble and the poor and lowly, all suppose that they themselves will live out their allotted span—but who is willing to die first? No one wishes to face death. Yet the foolish go on accumulating offenses and doing evil, and even when illness grows grave and death is near, they still do not know that cultivating the Dao and doing good can bring blessing and De (Virtue/Power).

A person’s lifespan is arranged by Heaven. Although Heaven does not speak, it often bestows blessing on the good. The sages therefore accord with the way of the age: when the age is clear and orderly, they come forth and make themselves known; when the age is dark and disordered, they withdraw into seclusion. They cannot remain in the world forever, so they leave behind teachings and precepts. These teachings are meant to exhort people to do good and to preserve their persons, their nature, and their lives. If people can practice the methods of the Dao without slackening, they may not only live out their natural years but also lengthen their lives and receive inexhaustible blessings. Such blessings cannot be bought by the rich and noble through offerings of wealth, nor obtained by sacrificing wine and meat to ghosts and spirits.

Daoist practitioners and the worthy should revere the teachings and precepts, cultivate with single-minded devotion, and diligently maintain their contemplation. They must first pass through hardship before sweetness comes, and the response will also meet them in the unseen. Whether wise or foolish, rich and noble or poor and lowly, all people have desires. Daoist practitioners are able to hold to their resolve because they restrain themselves with the teachings and precepts. In daily conduct, in every movement, and in the face of desire, they keep the precepts without transgression, and their hearts are neither partial nor crooked. Seeing beautiful forms or wealth and profit, they remind themselves with the precepts not to grasp at them. Hearing seductive or slanderous words, they restrain themselves with the precepts so as not to be swayed. Faced with fine food, they use the precepts to moderate appetite. When thoughts of treasure and sensual desire arise, they use the precepts to check the mind. Encountering crooked and wicked matters and about to step toward evil, they use the precepts to stop themselves from going. Only by keeping the precepts and not abandoning them can one be said to understand the principle. They should also constantly exhort the foolish, so that they too may practice according to the teachings. When Daoist practitioners cherish good intentions and delight in conferring kindness, they receive the response of the Dao of Heaven and enjoy boundless blessings.

The Dao issues from spontaneity. Born before Heaven and Earth, it is called the Unsurpassed (Wushang), the Mysterious Elder (Xuanlao), and the Most High (Taishang). The three Qi—the three kinds of primordial breath that constitute Heaven, Earth, and the myriad things—mingle and become the unsurpassed, orthodox, and true Dao. The Dao is vast and boundless. It embraces Heaven and Earth, sets spirit and Qi in transformation, and spreads beyond the eight directions, yet it can also lie hidden within a single fine hair. It generates and nourishes the myriad things, commands the many heavens, and holds together countless worlds. So great is it that there is nothing it cannot cover; so minute is it that there is nothing it cannot enter. The Dao is pure, still, and empty, and it engages in no reckless action; therefore it can endure. It embraces the turbid, the mixed, and the defiled, and so it is the source of the myriad things.

The Dao does not favor or draw near to anyone in particular; it responds only to the good. The good may thereby reach the realm of immortals. This is not something the rich and noble can obtain merely by seeking it, nor is it therefore beyond the reach of the poor and lowly. So long as one truly loves the great Dao, thinks of it with concentrated sincerity, cultivates oneself, and does good, one can unite with the Dao.

People of the world are often foolish and shallow, vain and false in their outward show. Mixed in with ordinary society, they crave only momentary pleasure, drinking wine and eating meat to satisfy desire, and they are unwilling to toil at cultivating the Dao, to make offerings and burn incense, or to revere the orthodox Way. One ought to accumulate merit and establish De, practice humility and yielding together with humaneness and righteousness, act gently, keep the mind pure and still, and cultivate oneself without reckless action. At the beginning this is hard, but in the end one obtains blessings, unlike ordinary worldly people. If one grasps only at temporary gain, after death one will be entered in the registers of ghosts and spirits. Daoist practitioners are pure and upright; while they live, their name-registers belong to the Celestial Officials. Ordinary people are defiled; after death they come under the jurisdiction of the Earthly Officials. The difference between the two is vast. The foolish cling to worldly ways and do not practice the methods of the Dao; they are lost, and lost deeply.

The human body has eyes, ears, nose, mouth, mind, and intention, and the conduct of the worthy differs from that of the foolish. The foolish chase only after beautiful forms, listen to words of liking and aversion, crave fragrances and fine flavors, and in their hearts give desire free rein, letting desire drive them toward the crooked and the wicked. The worthy are not like this. They do not pursue and gaze at the beautiful forms they might covet, do not listen to wicked words, do not come into contact with defiling Qi, do not crave the tastes of mouth and belly, do not dwell on the pleasure that desire brings, and do not let their steps turn toward evil. Daoist practitioners also know that desire can bring pleasure, yet they restrain passion with the precepts and therefore commit no evil acts. When good deeds have accumulated in abundance, they come into response with the Dao and receive inexhaustible blessings. The foolish know full well that evil deeds bring calamity, yet they cannot devote themselves to holding what is right. What they do runs contrary to the Dao, and still they hope for blessing. If they truly wish for blessing, why not follow the example of Daoist practitioners, purely and uprightly revering the Dao, preserving the true, and practicing Wuwei (non-action)?

People ought to cultivate with diligent toil, advancing vigorously and with care. They need not fear that poverty and low station will hinder cultivation of the Dao, nor fear that the powerful will seize from them the chance to cultivate. Still less need they compete to get ahead of the rich and noble, or rush about on assigned errands. Why not do good in daily life, revere the Dao with a single mind, labor in person to keep the Dao, and persevere? Good deeds should be accumulated one by one; only when the practice is fulfilled can it be called complete. Even if nine hundred and ninety-nine good deeds have all been accomplished, if one is still lacking and former merit is abandoned out of greed for profit, the work will still fail at the last step. One must guard the daily thought of the Dao and keep the precepts without change; only then is there hope of crossing over and becoming an immortal.

In ancient times there was Yanggong, the honorable Yang. He began to revere the Dao at fifteen, and by the age of sixty he had still received no recompense, yet he went on cultivating himself without weariness. When he lived to eighty, his store of blessing was profound. At last he came into communion with Heaven, and the blessing passed on to his descendants. How, then, can Daoist practitioners and the worthy fail to cultivate with diligence?