《通玄真经(河北定县汉墓竹简本)》

Laozi said: "There is something undifferentiated and whole, which existed before Heaven and Earth took form. It has only a faint shape and no fixed form. It is profound and dark, still and tranquil, and its sound cannot be heard. I reluctantly give it a name and call it Dao (Dào, the Way)."

Dao is so lofty that its limit cannot be reached and so deep that it cannot be measured. It encompasses Heaven and Earth and bears the formless, shapeless substance of its being. Its source and its courses are vast and unceasing, empty yet never overflowing. Turbid water, left still, gradually grows clear. The functions of Dao are inexhaustible and are not bound by morning or evening, by time. When it manifests, it cannot be grasped in a single hand, yet it unfolds from simplicity. In darkness it can give rise to light, and in softness it can reveal strength. It contains yin Qi and sends forth yang Qi, and it displays the radiance of the sun, moon, and stars.

Mountains are high because of Dao, and abysses are deep because of Dao. Beasts run because of Dao, birds fly because of Dao, the qilin roams because of Dao, the phoenix soars because of Dao, and the stars and the calendar move because of Dao. Dao can preserve what seems to be perishing, raise the humble to honor, and bring those who yield to the front.

The ancient Three Sovereigns (legendary rulers of high antiquity) grasped the essentials of Dao. They dwelt at the center, moved along with its subtle transformations, and pacified the four quarters. Thus they could make Heaven revolve and Earth stabilize, so that Heaven and Earth circulate like wheels without rest. Like flowing water that never stops, they passed through ending and renewal together with the myriad things. Winds rise, clouds surge, thunder rolls, and rain falls, and the various transformations respond to one another without end. When things have been carved and adorned, they can return to simplicity.

They did not force action, yet they accorded with the changes of birth and death. They did not force speech, yet they penetrated to De (Dé, Virtue/Power). With tranquil and joyful minds, they did not boast, and so they achieved harmony. The myriad things, though each different, could all grow according to their own natures.

Dao harmonizes Yin-Yang, regulates the four seasons, and coordinates the Five Phases (Wǔ Xíng, the five basic forces that constitute and drive the transformation of things: Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, and Water). It nourishes grasses and trees, moistens metal and stone, and makes birds and beasts strong, with glossy feathers and fur. Bird eggs do not rot, and animal fetuses do not die prematurely. A father need not fear losing a son, an elder brother need not mourn a younger brother, children are not left alone, and women are not left widowed. Rainbows do not appear, and thieves do not arise. All of these are the results of nurturing De.

The supreme and constant Dao gives birth to and nourishes the myriad things without possessing them, and it brings about transformations without governing them. The myriad things live by relying on Dao, yet they do not know its grace. They die by relying on it, yet they do not resent it. Dao gathers and stores the myriad things without becoming richer for it, and it bestows and receives them without making anyone poorer.

Dao is elusive and hard to make out, and it cannot be depicted as a concrete image. Though hazy and indistinct, its functioning never exhausts. It is deep and remote, yet it follows change without being bound to form. It penetrates without obstruction, and its movement is not in vain. It gathers and unfolds with the shifts of firmness and softness, and it rises and falls with the changes of Yin-Yang.

Laozi said: The true great man (dafu) is serene in mind, free from stray thoughts and worry. He follows the Way of Heaven, and his transformations are flexible and unconstrained. He is profound and subtle, responding to change without displaying any fixed traces. He is penetrating and smooth, does not act rashly, and can contract or expand with the alternation of hardness and softness, adjusting himself as Yin-Yang waxes and wanes.

Laozi said: The true great man is serene in mind, free from stray thoughts and worry. He takes Heaven as his carriage canopy, Earth as his carriage body, the four seasons as his horses, and Yin-Yang as his charioteer. When he travels, he is not restricted by roads, his journeys never weary him, and his comings and goings are not blocked by gates. With Heaven as his canopy, nothing lies beyond its cover. With Earth as his carriage, nothing lies beyond its bearing. With the four seasons as his horses, nothing cannot be driven. Guided by Yin-Yang, he can respond to every change. Therefore he moves swiftly without haste and travels far without fatigue. His limbs need not labor, and his intelligence is not depleted, yet he can observe everything under heaven. This is because he grasps the essentials of the Dao (the Way) and can observe the endless transformations.

Affairs under heaven cannot be forcibly arranged by subjective will; they should be guided by following things in their original state. The transformations of the myriad things cannot be stopped by human effort either; one should grasp their key points and bring them back to their proper direction. Therefore the sage cultivates the root within and does not adorn the branches without. He uplifts his spirit and restrains his distinctions and opinions about things, so that although he appears calm and non-acting (wuwei), nothing is left unaccomplished, and although he seems not to govern, nothing is left ungoverned.

What is called "non-action" (wuwei) means not acting ahead of things in order to force them. What is called "non-governance" means not altering the natural state of things. And what is called "nothing left ungoverned" means handling things by following the relationships they form with one another.

Laozi said: One who grasps the Dao (the Way) in governing the people responds to affairs by following the momentum of the situation itself, and when things change, responds according to their transformation. Therefore, every change among the myriad things can be answered, and every shift in the various matters can be brought into accord.

What is called the Dao manifests as emptiness, equanimity, stillness, softness, and pure simplicity; these five qualities are the form of the Dao. Emptiness is where the Dao dwells at ease, equanimity is the essential nature of the Dao, stillness is the bright mirror with which the Dao illuminates things, and softness is the manner in which the Dao exerts its function. When things return to their origin, this is the constant regularity of the Dao; softness can overcome hardness, and weakness can overcome strength. Pure simplicity is the root of the Dao.

Emptiness means the mind is not occupied by anything; equanimity means the mind is free of entanglements. To be without craving or desire is the utmost of emptiness; to be without partiality or aversion is the utmost of equanimity; to be concentrated and unchanging is the utmost of stillness; to be unmixed with external things is the utmost of purity; to be free of both worry and joy is the utmost of De (Virtue/Power).

When the Realized Person (zhiren, one whose cultivation has reached a high level) governs the people, they set aside cleverness and displays of wisdom, remove ornate embellishment, and relinquish contrivance in accordance with the Dao, sharing with the people a common public spirit. They gather in the scope of their own conduct, reduce their desires, dispel things that provoke covetousness, give up the pursuit of honor and wants, and also let go of excessive thought.

Gathering in what one holds allows one to see clearly; reducing what one seeks allows one to obtain. Therefore, when inner cultivation regulates outer conduct, the myriad affairs will not fall into neglect. When the mind is able to hold firm, external affairs can be well governed. When inner cultivation is accomplished, the five viscera become settled, thought becomes harmonious, the sinews and bones grow strong, and the ears and eyes become clear.

The great Dao is level and broad, and it is not far from people; if one seeks it in distant places, one will in the end return to oneself.

Laozi said: "The sage does not set their mind on governing others but concentrates on cultivating themselves. They do not value power and rank but value the self-sufficiency within. When a person is content in themselves, the people of the world are also brought to peace. They take no joy in wealth and nobility but take joy in a calm state of mind. One who values the self and makes light of the power of the world comes close to the Dao (the Way)."

Therefore it is said: "Empty the mind to its utmost and hold fast to deep stillness. The myriad things rise together, and through them I observe their return to their root."

The Dao transforms and nourishes the myriad things. It runs through their beginnings and endings, yet it has no fixed form. It is still and unmoving, yet vast, far-reaching, deep, and undifferentiated. It is so broad that it has no outside, and so fine that it can be analyzed down to a single hair, yet it has no defined inside. It is not bound by any limited space, and it arises between being and non-being.

The Zhenren (Perfected Person), one who embodies and practices the Dao, takes emptiness, equanimity, purity, softness, sincerity, and simplicity as the foundation, and does not allow external things to disturb their nature. Their virtue accords with the way of Heaven and Earth, and so they are called Zhenren. The Zhenren values the self, makes light of the power of the world, and gives greater weight to cultivating themselves than to governing others. They do not let external things disturb the peace of their heart, nor do they let desire disturb their inborn disposition. They conceal their name: they withdraw from office when the Dao prevails, and only come forward to act when it does not. They follow nature and do not force action. They do not impose affairs upon the heart, and they understand not to assume, from fixed opinions, that they know everything. They hold the Way of Heaven in mind and embrace the heart of Heaven. They breathe in the qi of Yin and Yang, exhaling the old breath and inhaling the new. They close with the Yin qi and open with the Yang qi, contracting and expanding with the shifts of hardness and softness, and rising and falling with the movement of Yin and Yang. They share the same heart as Heaven and become one with the Dao.

The Zhenren holds no attachment to joy, sorrow, delight, or anger. They perceive that the myriad things are deeply interconnected, and they do not obstinately divide them into right and wrong. If the body is harmed by cold, heat, dryness, or dampness, the body decays and the spirit is also obstructed. If the spirit is injured by joy, anger, thought, and worry, then once the spirit is exhausted, the body may remain, but its inner vitality has already been damaged. For this reason, the Zhenren applies the mind to follow their nature and to settle the spirit, so that shen (spirit) and body support each other and pass through from beginning to end. Therefore they do not dream when they sleep, and they have no anxiety when they wake.

Confucius asked Laozi about the Dao. Laozi said: "Straighten your body and focus your gaze, and the harmonious qi of Heaven will arrive. Restrain your cleverness and align your conduct with proper measure, and the spirit will come to dwell in you. De (Virtue) will become your bearing, and the Dao will become your dwelling. Let your gaze be like that of a newborn calf, not questioning the past causes of things. Let your body be like withered wood and your heart like cold ash. Truly understand the principles, yet do not rely on crooked cunning to sustain yourself. Let your breast be broad, without calculation." "If you understand and penetrate the four directions, can you refrain from believing you know everything?"

Laozi said that one should act in accordance with change, for change arises with the times, and action has no fixed form. Therefore it is said: "The Dao (the Way) that can be spoken of is not the constant Dao; the name that can be named is not the constant name."

Books record words, and words arise from human knowledge and deliberation. To grasp the Dao through deliberation alone is to drift away from the constant Dao. Names can be spoken, yet the Dao cannot be contained within books. Hence it is said: "The more one hears, the closer one comes to exhaustion; it is better to hold to the centrality of the heart-mind." "Abandon the obsession with deliberate learning, and there will be no anxiety." "Discard sageliness and cleverness, and the people will benefit a hundredfold."

At birth, a person is originally pure and still; this is the natural nature. To be moved by external things as they touch the self is for the nature to be harmed. When external things arrive and a person responds to them, this is the beginning of the activity of knowledge and deliberation. When knowledge and deliberation meet external things, likes and dislikes arise; once likes and dislikes take form, the heart-mind is pulled about by the outside world and cannot return to itself, and the natural principle endowed by Heaven disappears.

Therefore, the sage does not replace natural nature with artificial contrivance. Outwardly he can adapt to the changes of things, yet inwardly his heart-mind is not burdened by desire. One who has penetrated the Dao returns to stillness, so that the heart-mind is not occupied by external things, and ultimately attains wuwei (non-action, not acting presumptuously but following what is natural). He nourishes his knowledge through tranquility and harmonizes his spirit through detachment, entering a boundless realm; one who accords with the heavenly Dao walks together with the Dao, while one who follows the worldly associates with the world.

Thus the sage does not let affairs disturb his nature, nor let desire agitate his original heart-mind. He achieves what is appropriate without scheming, gains trust without speaking much, attains results without laboring over thought, and accomplishes things without acting recklessly. Dwelling in high position, the people do not feel burdened; walking at the front of the crowd, they are not harmed by him. All under Heaven turn to him, and treacherous people stand in awe of him, for he does not contend with the myriad things, and therefore no one dares to contend with him.

Laozi said: When people indulge their desires without restraint, they lose their original nature, and their conduct becomes difficult to keep upright. If such a state is used to govern a state, the state falls into disorder; if it is used to cultivate the self, body and mind become polluted. Therefore, those who do not understand the Dao (the Way) cannot return to their original nature, and those who cannot penetrate the principles of things cannot maintain stillness and tranquility.

If we trace human nature back to its source, it originally contains no evil or defilement. Only when people remain immersed in external things for a long time does their disposition easily change. Once it has changed and they forget the root, they follow the path of this deviation from nature. The nature of water tends toward clarity, yet it is muddied by sand and stones; the nature of human beings tends toward peace, yet it is harmed by fondness and desire. Only the sage can relinquish attachment to external things and return to the self.

For this reason, the sage does not use cleverness and wisdom to drive the myriad things, nor does the sage allow desire to disturb the calm of the heart. When joyful, they do not become overly excited; when sorrowful, they do not sink into prolonged despondency. Thus, though they stand in high position, they are not endangered, and though they dwell in peace, they are not overturned. When they hear beneficial words and sound plans, even the foolish know to agree with them; when they hear that the sage's virtue is lofty, even the unworthy know to admire it. Yet many agree while few truly act on it, and many admire while few truly practice it. This is because people are held back by external things and bound by worldly habits.

Thus it is said: "When I practice wuwei (non-action), the people transform naturally; when I do not disturb the people, the people become naturally prosperous; when I delight in stillness, the people naturally become upright; when I have no desires, the people naturally return to simplicity." Stillness is the ultimate of De (Virtue or Power), and softness is the way the Dao (the Way) operates.

Empty and tranquil, without fixed form, it is vast; having form and shape, it becomes small. Formless things act broadly, while formed things have limited effect; formless things are mighty, while formed things are weak; formless things are full, while formed things are empty. What has form is the result of affairs that have developed to a later stage; what is formless is the root from which the myriad things begin. When affairs mature, they take shape as concrete vessels; when the myriad things first arise, they remain in an uncarved, simple state. What has form has sound; what is formless has no sound. Forms arise from the formless, and therefore the formless is the beginning of form.

When one is broad and abundant, one gains a reputation; with a reputation, one is regarded as precious and complete. When one is frugal and shallow, one has no reputation; without reputation, one seems lowly and humble. Wealth and prominence bring a reputation and also earn respect; poverty and scarcity bring no reputation and easily appear base. Strength and display are made conspicuous by fame; softness and concealment remain unrevealed. Having surplus brings a reputation, and one is easily regarded as clever and capable; having deficiency brings no reputation, and one remains in a lower position. Merit brings fame; without merit, there is no fame. Fame arises from the nameless, and the nameless is the root of fame. This is the way of Heaven: having and non-having mutually generate each other, and difficulty and ease mutually complete each other.

Therefore, the sage grasps the Dao (the Way) and accomplishes virtue through emptiness, stillness, and subtlety. Where there is Dao, there is De (Virtue); where there is De, there is merit; where there is merit, there is fame. After fame is achieved, one returns to the Dao (the Way). In this way, achievement and reputation can endure, and one lives a whole life without calamity. Kings and dukes often have merit and fame, while the orphaned and the lonely have neither; therefore the sage calls themselves "orphan" and "lonely one," thereby returning to the root. When merit is accomplished, it is not claimed as one's own: merit can bring practical benefit, while nameless non-action exerts its fundamental effect.

In ancient times, the people were simple and unsophisticated, not even distinguishing east from west. Their appearance never departed from genuine feeling, their words did not exceed their actions, their conduct was free of pretense, and their speech did not seek ornament. Their clothing was coarse and plain, and their spirit and virtue were preserved whole within themselves. Those whose body, mind, and virtue are not complete do not know how much calamity they can still bear. If one can forget the thought of harming others in the heart, one can even hold the tail of a hungry tiger without fear, let alone face a human being.

Those who embody the Dao (the Way) are at ease and not troubled; those who act through cunning tricks and techniques labor without результат. Severe punishments and frequent killing are not the means by which a sovereign governs; constant use of the whip and the rod is not a good method for driving a carriage on a long journey. When likes and dislikes are excessive, calamities follow one after another. Therefore, the laws of the former kings were not created out of nothing; they conformed to principles already present. Prohibitions and punishments were not imposed arbitrarily; they had their proper grounds. When one conforms to the patterns of affairs, governance can be great; when one blindly creates new measures, the scope becomes narrow. When one holds fast to the root, the state is stable; when one acts recklessly, one ends in failure.

If one observes things only with the ears and eyes, the mind becomes weary and still cannot see clearly; if one governs only by strategy and deliberation, one exhausts one's energy without result. A single person's talent can hardly achieve good governance, and one individual's ability is not enough to govern even a plot of three mu of land. Following the regularities of principle and accord with the natural operation of Heaven and Earth, one will not feel difficulty in maintaining balance even in governing the whole world. Listening to words of praise and blame makes judgment easily inaccurate; when the eyes are absorbed in beauty, the mind is led astray. Ritual is insufficient to restrain and settle affection, but a sincere heart can move people even at a distance.

The most grievous calamity is none other than harboring the intention to kill and attack in the heart. Famous swords such as Moye are not as frightening as deliberate harm; the greatest disaster lies in the disruption of Yin and Yang, while war drums and weapons are merely surface signs. As for the "great bandit," his harm lies hidden deep and causes corpses to fill the fields; the middling bandit hides in the mountains; the petty bandit flees into the villages. Therefore it is said: "The more cleverness the people have, the more strange things arise; the more intricate the laws, the more bandits there are." When one sets aside cunning laws and adopts the principle of the Dao (the Way), calamities sent from Heaven will not arise.

To govern a state through cleverness is a calamity for the state; to refrain from cleverness and govern without schemes is the blessing of the state. Pleasure and tranquility are the root of the myriad things; once these three are put into practice, they return to formlessness. What is formless is called "the One." "The One" means having no private intention, and therefore it can accord with all under Heaven.

Bestowing favor without seeking return, applying the Dao (the Way) without feeling effort: one looks at it and does not see it, listens to it and does not hear it. Though formless, it gives birth to form; though soundless, it causes the five tones to resound; though tasteless, it forms the five flavors; though colorless, it forms the five colors. Thus form is born from the formless, and fullness is born from emptiness.

The basic numbers of the musical scale do not exceed five, yet the variations of the five tones are too many to hear completely; the basic flavors do not exceed five, yet the variations of the five flavors cannot be exhausted by tasting; the basic colors do not exceed five, yet the variations of the five colors cannot be fully seen. The tones take the palace note as their foundation, and from this the five tones are formed; the flavors take sweetness as their foundation, and from this the five flavors are established; the colors take white as their foundation, and from this the five colors are composed. The Dao (the Way) takes "the One" as its root, and from it the myriad things grow.

Therefore, the principle of "the One" can be extended to the four seas, and the blessing of "the One" can manifest throughout Heaven and Earth. When the Dao (the Way) is complete, it is sincere and unadorned; when it is dispersed, it is murky and undifferentiated, like turbid water. When turbid water slowly settles, it becomes clear, and when emptiness is maintained, it gradually fills. It is calm like the great sea and vast like floating clouds; it seems not to exist, yet it truly exists; it seems to have vanished, yet it always remains.

Laozi said: though the myriad things are many, they all pass through a single aperture (kongqiao), and though the hundred affairs are complex, they all issue from one gate of the Dao (daomen). Therefore the sage (shengren) can let turbidity gradually settle and let emptiness gradually fill. He is calm and tranquil, as deep and wide as the sea, and drifts as freely as floating clouds. He appears to be nothing and yet exists; he seems to vanish and yet remains.

Laozi said: though the myriad things are many, they all pass through a single aperture; though the hundred affairs are complex, they all issue from one gate. Therefore the sage always follows the measure (zhun), does not alter the fundamental nature of things, and does not contravene constant principle. He follows standards as one uses the marking line and the ink cord, and when things bend and change, he also accords with their natural patterns.

Joy and anger are emotions that stray from the Dao. Sorrow and grief are losses in De (Virtue). Likes and dislikes are faults of the heart-mind, and craving and desire are the burdens of life. When a person rages greatly, the yin qi is harmed; when joy is excessive, the yang qi is depleted. When the breath is obstructed, the voice is lost; when fright is excessive, the shen (spirit) becomes disordered. Worry and sorrow wear down the heart-mind, and over time they accumulate into illness. If a person can remove these five emotions and desires, they can come into harmony with shenming (spirit illumination). Here, shenming refers to a state in which the inner spirit is clear and harmonious.

What is called shenming is an inner stability. When the inner world is stable, the five viscera (wuzang) are at peace, thought is steady, the ears are keen and the eyes are bright, the sinews and bones are strong, and one moves through life without going against constant order. One remains firm and vigorous without exhaustion. One neither goes to excess nor falls short of any capacity.

Nothing in the world is softer and weaker than water, and yet water embodies the Dao. It is so vast that it has no edge, so deep that it cannot be measured, and it extends endlessly, flowing toward distant places without end. It sometimes recedes and sometimes swells, its transformations beyond calculation: in the sky it becomes rain and dew, and on the earth it becomes the moist marshes that nourish all things. The myriad things grow because of it, and the hundred affairs are accomplished through it. It nourishes living beings broadly without favoritism, and it moistens the tiniest insects and ants without seeking any return. It enriches all under heaven without ever being exhausted, and it bestows its benefits on the common people without feeling any loss.

The movement of water is inexhaustible and so subtle that it is hard to grasp. Strike it and it is not injured; pierce it and it is not broken; cut it and it does not sever; burn it and it cannot be blackened. It is soft and flowing and does not disperse because of this. When it is sharp, it can pierce metal and stone; when it is powerful, it can drown the whole world. Whether there is surplus or lack, it allows all under heaven to draw from it. It bears all things without distinction of first or last, without partiality, and without deliberately bestowing. It is as vast as heaven and earth. This is called the highest De (Virtue).

The reason water can embody the highest De is that it is pliant and smooth. Therefore it is said: "The softest thing under heaven can master the hardest thing under heaven; that which has no form can enter where there is no gap."

That which has no form is the root of all things; that which has no sound is the source of all things of the same kind. The zhenren (perfected person), one who has realized the great Dao, penetrates to inner numinosity, merges into one with the transforming process of creation, holds profound De within the heart-mind, and moves and changes like spirit. Therefore the Dao, which reveals no trace, is boundless: even without issuing commands, it can transform customs. This depends on inner cultivation and conduct.

Each of the myriad things has its place of origin, yet the sage can grasp their common root. Each of the hundred affairs has its gate of departure, yet the sage can hold fast to their common source. Therefore he can investigate the infinite and reach the ultimate limit. He perceives things without being deluded, and when he responds to things, he does not cling to knowing how he himself responds.

Laozi said: One who has attained the Dao (the Way) appears gentle and yielding in mind, yet acts with great strength; with an empty and tranquil heart, they respond to events appropriately. To say that the mind is yielding means being mild and quiet, not placing oneself in the midst of contention, not forcing what lies beyond one's capacity, and remaining detached and non-acting (Wuwei). Yet when they act, they never miss the right moment. Therefore it is said: "Nobility must take lowliness as its root, and high station must take humility as its foundation."

Relying on the small, one can embrace the great; grounded within, one can restrain what is without. Moving softly, one can nonetheless bring the power of hardness into play, so there is no opponent that cannot be overcome and no obstacle that cannot be surpassed. Adapting to change and weighing the circumstances of the time, nothing can harm oneself. Wishing to be firm, one must hold to softness; wishing to be strong, one must preserve oneself through weakness. When softness accumulates to a certain degree, it becomes firm; when weakness accumulates to a certain degree, it becomes strong. By observing the tendency of things as they accumulate, one can judge their survival or their decline.

The strong overcome those who are weaker than themselves, but when they meet an equal, they fall into conflict. The gentle, however, can overcome those stronger than themselves, and the power of such gentleness is immeasurable. Therefore it is said: "When armed forces grow mighty, they invite destruction; when wood is hard, it breaks easily." Leather that is too stiff will crack; teeth are harder than the tongue, yet it is often the teeth that wear out first. Thus it is said: "Softness and weakness are the root of life; hardness and strength belong to the category of death."

One who acts first in rushing ahead takes a path prone to distress; one who acts afterward takes a path that leads to success. Grasping the Dao to respond to change, acting first can restrain those who act later, and acting later can also restrain those who act first. So long as one does not lose the key to restraining others, one cannot in turn be restrained by them.

To "act afterward" means to measure the changes of things and to coordinate with the moment. The shifts of circumstance are extremely rapid, leaving almost no interval: act too early and you overshoot; act too late and you cannot catch up. The sun and moon move without pause, and time does not stop to wait for anyone. Therefore the sage does not prize a jade disc a foot long, but cherishes an inch of time, because opportunity is rare and easily lost.

Thus the sage follows the moment in acting, establishes achievements according to the conditions at hand, holds to the Way of stillness and purity, preserves a pliant measure, and follows the course of things in responding to change. They generally remain behind rather than going first. They are gentle and calm, unhurried yet steadfast; even things that have become supremely solid and strong cannot contend with them.

Laozi said: once the heart harbors clever calculation, the originally pure nature is no longer pure. In that age, people were warmly clothed yet did not care for bright colors; their weapons were blunt and lacked edges; they walked slowly and their gaze was dim. They stood at the well to drink and tilled the fields to sustain their lives. They did not bestow favors to win fame, nor did they deliberately pursue virtue; between high and low, none suppressed another, and between long and short, none compared themselves with the rest. Customs were simple and peaceful, people were content with their lot and lived in accordance with custom, and affairs were carried out calmly according to each person's ability. Those who used boasting and artifice to bewilder the world, and who disrupted the multitude with abnormal conduct, were not regarded by the Sage as the constant Way.

Volume Two

Essence and Sincerity (Jingcheng)

Laozi said: Heaven exhausts its height and Earth exhausts its depth; the sun and moon shine, the stars are bright, Yin and Yang are in harmony, and all of this is not the result of deliberate effort but of following the Dao, so that the myriad things run their course naturally. Yin-Yang and the four seasons do not intentionally give birth to the myriad things, and the timely fall of rain and dew is not intended to nourish the grasses and trees; when the spirits and Yin-Yang respond to one another and blend in harmony, the myriad things come to life.

As for the Dao, it means to hold essential qi within the heart and let the spirit dwell in peace there. When the heart is still, calm, serene, and joyful, it is open and formless, quiet and soundless. Governing in this way, officials seem to have nothing to do and the court seems to need no toil; no one in the world retreats into seclusion, and no one evades corvée; there are no heavy labors and no resentful punishments. All under Heaven will revere the bearing and intent of the ruler, and distant lands with different customs will come to submit through successive translation. This is not because the ruler visits the people household by household, but because sincerity is extended throughout the realm.

Therefore, rewarding good deeds and punishing violence is the means of rectifying government, and whether policies can truly be carried out depends on essence and sincerity. Even when policies are clear, they cannot be enforced on their own; they must rest upon essence and sincerity. Thus, even when one sums up the principles and issues decrees, if the people still do not obey, it is because essence and sincerity have not reached them.

Laozi says: Heaven arranges the sun, the moon, and the myriad stars, lays out the four seasons, and harmonizes Yin and Yang. By day the sunlight shines on the myriad things, and by night it lets them rest. The wind dries them, and the rain and dew nourish them. When things grow, people cannot see how they are being nourished, yet they all gradually reach maturity. When things decline, people cannot see how they lose their vitality, yet they all gradually perish. This is called "spirit illumination" (shenming), referring to the subtle and natural workings within the operation of Heaven and Earth.

Therefore the sage follows Heaven and Earth. When he brings about good fortune, people cannot see where it comes from, yet it has already arisen; when he removes calamity, people cannot see how it recedes, yet it has already been eliminated. Trace it closely and you cannot find its traces; observe it carefully and you know it is not illusory. Each day the progress seems slight, yet counted by the year the harvest is more than sufficient. He remains silent and speaks only a single word, yet he can bring about great change throughout the world. This is because he accords with the mind of Heaven in advancing his teaching.

When the sage's inner mind is sincere and absolutely true, he can respond to the qi of Heaven and Earth, causing the breath to rise up toward Heaven. Then auspicious stars appear, the Yellow Dragon descends, the phoenix arrives, sweet springs gush forth, fine grains grow, the rivers do not flood, and the sea does not raise great waves. Conversely, if one goes against the Dao of Heaven and harms the myriad things, there will appear such anomalies as eclipses of the sun and moon, the five planets moving out of their proper courses, the seasons falling into disorder, daytime growing dark while night grows bright, mountains collapsing and rivers drying up, thunder in winter, and frost in summer.

Heaven and humanity can resonate with one another. Thus, when a state declines and perishes, the patterns of Heaven also change; when the world falls into turmoil, rainbows sometimes appear. The myriad things are interconnected, and their essential qi interact with one another. Therefore the workings of spirit illumination cannot be obtained through cleverness and calculation, nor can they be forced through brute strength.

Accordingly, one of great De (Virtue), whose virtue is profound and lofty, shares the De of Heaven and Earth, shares the brightness of the sun and moon, shares the numinous power of ghosts and spirits, and accords with the movement of the four seasons. He holds the will of Heaven in his heart, receives the qi of Earth, and maintains stillness and emptiness while cultivating harmony and peace. Even without leaving his hall, his influence reaches to the four quarters; he transforms customs so that the people turn toward goodness, as though these changes arose spontaneously from within themselves. This is how one is able to carry out teaching through the subtle power of transformation.

Laozi said: The Dao of human life lies in preserving one's natural endowment (tianxing) and guarding one's purity and genuineness, so that one does no harm to oneself. Even when facing sudden crisis and grave danger, one should be thoroughly versed in the Way of Heaven (Tiandao). If one has never departed from the root of the Great Dao, then what could fail to succeed? Such a person regards death and life as matters within the same sphere and is not coerced or humiliated by external forces. Moreover, such a person can govern Heaven and Earth, embrace the myriad things, and return to the transformation of creation, storing within themselves the most harmonious qi, and therefore never truly dies.

Inner sincerity and utmost authenticity manifest outwardly, so that others comprehend them in their hearts. This is a principle that cannot be transmitted through words. The sage dwells in a high position and holds the Dao in mind without speaking much, yet his grace reaches the common people. Therefore, teaching that operates without words is vast and boundless. When rulers and ministers are estranged and deceive one another, these conditions appear in the patterns of the heavens. Shen (spirit) and qi respond to one another, and the principle behind this is extremely subtle. This is called discernment without words, and a principle that needs no speech.

To draw distant people near, let them follow their natural course without constraint. To bring close those who are nearby, speak little of trivial matters and let them remain at ease. Only one who walks at night can truly appreciate this principle. Let the galloping horses stop to till and fertilize the fields, and let no carts or horses travel to distant lands. This is called "sitting while racing, sinking on land" (zuo chi lu chen): though a person sits still, the world seems to be in motion, and though dwelling on land, one is as if submerged in the depths.

The Way of Heaven shows no partiality in drawing near to anyone, nor in forsaking anyone. Those with abundant ability often have surplus, while those with weak ability are often lacking. To accord with the Way of Heaven brings good fortune, and to go against it brings peril. Therefore, governing a state through intellectual scheming alone is difficult to sustain for long. Only by uniting with the great harmony of Heaven and Earth, following nature, and responding to the times can a state truly be well governed.

Laozi said: The relationship between Dao and De is like that of a wall and its leather covering. Viewed from afar, they seem far apart, yet up close one finds them connected. When one seeks to probe their depths, they cannot be grasped, yet on careful observation they are not empty. Therefore, the sage is like a mirror: he does not actively pursue things, nor does he refuse what arrives. He responds to things without storing them in his heart, and he does not cling to external objects, yet he is not harmed by them.

When one obtains something, it seems as though one has also lost it; when one loses it, one instead gains it. Thus, one who has penetrated the great harmony of Heaven and Earth seems drowsy and intoxicated, sleeping peacefully, yet roams freely within it. It is as though he has never departed from the root of the Great Dao. This is called "great penetration" (datong), the state of being in communion with the Great Dao. It is achieved through non-action (wuwei), a manner of not exerting force, which nonetheless accomplishes its true effect.

Laozi said: In the past, when the Yellow Emperor (Huangdi) governed the world, he regulated the movements of the sun and moon, managed the Yin-Yang qi, arranged the rhythm of the four seasons, and corrected the numbers of musical pitches and the calendar. He distinguished male from female and clarified the order of superior and inferior, so that the strong did not oppress the weak and the many did not bully the few. The common people were able to preserve their lives and not die young. Harvests were abundant and there was no famine. Officials were fair and selfless, superiors and inferiors were in harmony, and no one harbored resentment. Laws were clear and not obscure, and assistants were impartial and not partisan. Farmers yielded to one another the land at field boundaries, things dropped on the road were not taken by anyone, and in the markets no one raised prices in advance for profit. Therefore the sun, moon, and stars moved in their proper courses, wind and rain arrived in season, the five grains flourished, phoenixes soared in the palace courts, and qilins roamed the wilds.

Fuxi (a legendary sovereign of high antiquity) governed the world by sleeping with a square pillow for his head and lying on a rope bed, and he followed the seasons of autumn harvest and winter storage. He carried the square earth on his back and embraced the round heaven. Where Yin-Yang qi had congealed and stagnated and could not flow, he cleared and regulated it. Where rebellious qi and unnatural things had accumulated deeply and harmed the people, he eliminated and restrained them. The people were simple and unknowing. They could not tell east from west, their eyes were dim, and their steps were unsteady, yet they were content and at ease, unaware of how this life had come about. They enjoyed themselves freely, not knowing their origin and not understanding where they were going. At that time, birds, beasts, insects, and snakes all withdrew their claws, fangs, and stingers, and all things under heaven and earth each received what was fitting.

When it came to the Yellow Emperor, he still respectfully served his ancestral forebear (taizu), did not display his merit, and did not proclaim his fame. He kept the Way of the Perfected Person (zhenren) concealed within and followed the natural regularities of heaven and earth. In this way his De (Virtue/Power) could reach upward to heaven and earth, and cleverness, calculation, and human scheming receded.

Laozi said: When the heavens are unsteady, the sun and moon have no place to rest; when the earth is unsteady, plants and trees cannot grow; when a person's body and mind are not at peace, right and wrong have no way to appear. Therefore, the zhenren (true person, one who has embodied the Dao) comes first, and only then does true wisdom follow. If one does not understand the very ground on which one's knowledge rests, how can one know whether what one calls "knowing" is in fact not knowing?

To accumulate kindness, increase wealth, and let the common people live in ease and contentment is ren (benevolence). To achieve great merit, establish a good name, arrange the relations between ruler and minister, rectify the order between high and low, distinguish close kin from distant, rescue a state from ruin, continue lineages that have been cut off, and establish heirs for those without descendants is yi (righteousness). To close the nine orifices (the sense openings of the eyes, ears, nose, and mouth), gather the mind and will, abandon cleverness and intelligence, and return to the uncarved state; to wander freely beyond the dust of the world, roaming in the realm of wuwei (non-action), taking in yin and exhaling yang, and blending harmoniously with the myriad things, is De (Virtue). Thus, when the Dao (the Way) scatters, it becomes De; when De is full, it develops into ren and yi; and once ren and yi are established, the Dao and De themselves decline.

Laozi said: Those whose spirit (shen) floats outward have flowery words without substance; those whose virtue is scattered have deceitful conduct. The truly pure inner spirit shows itself in the heart, while speech and action are revealed outwardly. Such people are inevitably governed by external things. Their spirit is gradually exhausted, while their actions have no end; when the heart cannot hold steady inwardly, it chases after the customs of the world. Therefore, the sage cultivates the Dao within and does not adorn the outside with ren and yi. Knowing the proper functions of the nine orifices and the four limbs, and resting in a state of harmonious spirit, is the sage's wandering (you).

Laozi said: The sage's wandering means acting in utmost emptiness and stillness, letting the mind and spirit roam in Tai Wu (Great Nothingness), a boundless realm free of all constraint. Such a person races beyond the mundane world and walks where there are no gates, hearing the unheard and seeing the formless, unbound by worldly rules and untethered by custom. Therefore, what the zhenren can accomplish, the sage does not need to do by deliberate effort, and what the worthy use to correct worldly practices, the sage does not even regard. If a person is bound by the world, the body is necessarily restrained and the spirit scatters, so that one inevitably falls into distinction and opposition. Whatever binds the self must be because one's xingming (nature and life) has been entrusted to external things.

Laozi said: When the ruler deliberates over affairs of state, the shen (spirit) should be settled and should not wander in disorder within the heart. Wisdom should not be spent only on the trivial matters of the four quarters; it should be joined with benevolence and sincerity. In this way the rain falls in its season, the five grains flourish, and the myriad things grow: they sprout in spring, grow in summer, are harvested in autumn, and are stored away in winter. The ruler examines officials monthly and assesses them on schedule, and at year's end gathers their reports and presents tribute. He nourishes the people with an impartial heart and establishes his authority through good faith. Laws are simple and not burdensome, and teaching spreads as naturally as the transformations of nature. Laws are lenient and punishments are moderate, the prisons stand empty, the customs of the realm return to simplicity and purity, and people harbor no treacherous intent. This is the deliberation by which the sage governs the world.

If the ruler is greedy without limit, his ministers and the people will compete for merit and refuse to yield. When the people are impoverished, they will struggle over what little they have; when their labor is wasted and yields no results, cunning and deceit arise, and bandits grow ever more numerous. Superiors and subordinates come to resent one another, and government orders cannot be carried out. When water is muddied, the fish rise to the surface to breathe; when government is harsh, the people will rise in turmoil. When those above have many desires, those below practice much deceit; when those above trouble the people with endless affairs, those below have no way to act with certainty; when those above demand too much, those below turn to fighting over it. To govern without addressing the root, and to make only remedies at the branches, is like digging out a channel and expecting the water to stop, or carrying bundles of firewood to put out a fire.

The sage reduces the disturbances of government and seeks its effectiveness. He spends little and provides abundantly; he does not deliberately bestow favors, yet his benevolence is manifest; he does not speak much, yet he wins the trust of others; he does not force matters, yet he obtains what he needs; he does not act recklessly, yet he accomplishes his aims. He follows nature, guards the utmost truth, embraces the great Dao, and treats others with sincerity, so the people follow him as an echo answers a sound and a shadow follows a form. What the sage cultivates and governs is the root.

Laozi said: One whose spirit flows outward and whose mind churns with thought within cannot properly nourish the self. When the spirit is directed toward distant places, it neglects what is near at hand. Therefore it is said: "Without going beyond the door, one may know the whole world; without looking out through the window, one may understand the Way of Heaven. The farther one goes, the less one knows." This means that a focused and sincere mind can nourish the self; if the spirit is always cast toward what is far away, it will overlook what is near. When sincerity arises from within the heart, the spirit and qi can respond to the Dao of Heaven.

Laozi said: The winter sun and the summer shade draw all things toward them, though no one stands beside them giving orders. This is the most subtle responsiveness of the natural Dao. Things come without being summoned and leave without being driven away. The workings are deep and hidden, and no one can say who is acting, yet affairs accomplish themselves. If a ruler waits until he sees a matter with his own eyes and issues his own commands before he acts, it will be very difficult to govern the state well.

Gao Yao (a legendary worthy minister of antiquity), though unable to speak, served as Grand Judge (the official in charge of prisons and punishments), and there was no abuse of punishment under heaven. This shows that there is something more precious than speech. Shi Kuang (a music master of the state of Jin in the Spring and Autumn period), though blind, served as Grand Steward (the official in charge of government affairs), and the state of Jin had no chaotic edicts. This shows that there is something more precious than sight. To perceive the principles of things clearly without issuing commands by voice or observing with the eyes is precisely why the sage is worthy to be a teacher.

The common people are transformed by those above them not so much by obeying what they are told as by imitating what they do. Therefore, if a ruler is fond of bravery and display of strength, the state will suffer many calamities even if he does not order anyone to fight. As this tendency gradually spreads, it will inevitably give rise to chaos of plunder and slaughter. If a ruler indulges in beauty, the state will fall into disorder even if he does not cause people to discuss extravagance. Over time, this breeds the calamity of licentiousness. Thus the sage keeps his heart sincere (jingcheng), clearly knows what he likes and dislikes, and displays these in his appearance and conduct. His words accord with his heart, and when he issues commands, he makes his intent plain.

Hence, punishments are not enough to change customs, and killing is not enough to eradicate treachery. What is most precious is to transform others through spirit (shen). When sincerity reaches its utmost, it produces wondrous responsiveness, and the changes it sets in motion are like the spring qi that makes all things grow and the autumn qi that makes them wither. The gentleman who governs the people is like an archer: a difference of a hair's breadth at the start may become a great distance at the target. Therefore, one who governs the people must be careful about what he uses to influence them.

Laozi said: Even if laws are proclaimed and rewards established, customs still cannot be changed, because the heart lacks sincerity. By listening to a region's music, one can understand its prevailing mood. By observing its dances and performances, one can understand its local customs. By seeing those customs, one can know what kind of teaching has shaped it. One who embraces sincerity and acts with sincerity can respond to Heaven and Earth, and his spirit reaches beyond the four quarters. His commands are carried out and his prohibitions take effect. As long as a sincere heart accords with the Dao and its intent is conveyed, the people of the world, birds and beasts, and ghosts and spirits will all be transformed, even if not a single word is spoken. The highest form of governance guides people through wondrous transformation. The next is to make people unable to do wrong. After that comes rewarding the worthy and punishing the cruel.

Laozi (Lǎozǐ) said: The Great Dao (the fundamental regularity of the cosmos) follows its own nature and does not act willfully. Wuwei (wúwéi, non-action) means not clinging to concrete, tangible things. Because one does not cling to tangible things, one is not bound by them and dwells in a formless state. Without form there is no activity, and without activity there is no speech. Without speech there is stillness and silence, and the formless. The Great Dao is subtle and soundless, formless: one looks and cannot see it, listens and cannot hear it. This is called profound and mysterious, and also called utmost spiritual. It is "continuous, as if it exists," seemingly fine and extended, yet as if it both is and is not. Therefore it is said to be the root of Heaven, Earth, and the myriad things.

Because the Great Dao has no sound and no form, the sage reluctantly describes it in words, using a single phrase to name the Way of Heaven and Earth. The large takes the small as its root, and the many takes the few as its beginning. The Son of Heaven (tiānzǐ) takes Heaven and Earth as his standard and the myriad things as his nourishment. His merit is vast, and his position and reputation are honored. The Son of Heaven's De (Virtue/Power) must accord with Heaven and Earth, and so he must follow the Dao as the foundation on which all under Heaven depends.

Laozi said: Relieving poverty and aiding those in urgent need brings fame and benefit, and removing calamities allows merit to be established. If the world has no disasters, even a sage has no opportunity to display his De. If superiors and inferiors are in harmony, even a worthy person has no way to establish merit.

Laozi said: Relieving poverty and aiding those in urgent need brings fame and benefit, and removing calamities allows merit to be established. If the world has no disasters, even a sage has no opportunity to display his De. If superiors and inferiors are in harmony, even a worthy person has no way to establish merit. Therefore, the Perfected Person (zhìrén, one whose De is the highest) governs the world by holding De within and embracing the Dao. He sincerely deploys boundless wisdom, yet restrains his speech and does not add much discussion. The people of the world may not understand the value of silence, and so it is said: "If the Dao could be explained clearly, it would not be the constant Dao. If names could be fixed, they would not be constant names."

What is written on bamboo and silk, or carved on metal and stone to be passed on to others, is only the coarse outward appearance of the Great Dao. The Three Sovereigns, Five Emperors, and Three Kings (legendary rulers of high antiquity) acted in different ways, yet their hearts were in accord. Their paths differed, but they arrived at the same end. Later students do not understand that the root of the Dao is unity, or that the essence of De lies in embracing the myriad things. They merely copy the surface methods by which earlier rulers succeeded, sitting upright and expounding on them. Even when they are broadly learned, they inevitably fall into confusion.

Laozi (Lao Tzu) said: When the heart-mind and spirit (Shen) reach the utmost purity, they can produce a subtle transforming influence that is difficult to describe in words. The sage need not leave his seat to bring all under heaven back to the right Way (Dao). His genuine feeling moves people more than urgent cries do. Thus, when the same words are spoken, people believe the sage because trust was established before he spoke. When the same commands are issued, people are willing to follow them because his sincerity is not expressed only in the commands themselves. When the sage occupies a high position, the common people change as if transformed by a spiritual influence, because genuine feeling takes effect before word and deed. If a superior acts but those below do not respond, it shows that the feelings and directives of the two sides do not match.

An infant three months old does not yet understand gain and loss, yet a loving mother cherishes him all the more. This is because of genuine feeling. Therefore, the effects produced by language vary, but the power of such change is small. Effects produced without words also change, and their power is greater. The gentleman (junzi) keeps his word and his heart is loyal. When loyalty and trustworthiness show from within, they can move the outside world and draw a response. This is the transforming influence of the worthy and the sage.

Laozi said: A son dies for his father, and a minister dies for his ruler. They do not do this for the sake of fame, but because affection lies deep in the heart, and even in hardship they do not flinch. This feeling arises from within, appears in action, moves the outside world, and draws a response. This is the transforming influence of the worthy and the sage.

Laozi said: The grief and compassion of the gentleman are not put on for others to see. They naturally well up from the heart. In observing a person, one must also look at what he actually does. Even when the sage is alone, he is not ashamed before his own shadow, and the gentleman is cautious in word and deed when no one is watching. If one seeks far away while neglecting what is near, one will only spoil matters. Therefore, when the sage is in a high position, the people are glad to accept his governance, and when he is in a low position, the people admire his intent. His aspiration is always to find ways to benefit others.

Laozi said: When a brave warrior shouts once and the whole army retreats, it is because his cry is sincere. If a leader shouts but the followers do not respond, they may seem to agree outwardly, yet they are not truly engaged, and their hearts must be out of accord. To rectify the world without leaving one's seat depends on seeking the root within oneself. Where words cannot convey meaning, bearing and demeanor can still express it. Where even bearing and demeanor cannot reach, subtle responsiveness can still communicate. Responsiveness arises from within and appears outwardly. When it reaches the utmost subtlety, beings can perceive one another through physical contact, yet it cannot be measured in advance by any fixed standard.

Laozi said: Words have a root, and affairs have a beginning. To lose the root, even with many skills, one will inevitably meet with unexpected misfortune at some point. When feeling arises from within the heart, it becomes visible outwardly. A response refined to its utmost can connect with physical form, yet it cannot be measured in advance by ordinary methods.

Laozi said: Words have a root, and affairs have a beginning. To lose the root, even with many skills, is no better than speaking less. It is said that in ancient times the skilled artisan Chui (a legendary craftsman) had his fingers cut off, which shows that even the most superb skill cannot be forced. Therefore, when a craftsman relies on wisdom in his work, he must also follow the timing and not depend on ability alone. If what should be closed is not closed, one must first block it, and only then can it be opened.

Laozi said: When the sage acts, the paths he takes may differ, yet they all arrive at the same destination. Whether in a situation of survival, ruin, stability, or collapse, his resolve remains the same, and he never forgets to help others. Therefore, the songs of Qin, Chu, Yan, and Wei differ in style, yet they all bring joy. The wailing of the Nine Yi and Eight Di (ancient terms for the peoples on the periphery) differs from one group to the next, yet they all express sorrow. Song is the subtle sign of joy made manifest, and weeping is the outward expression of sorrow. Emotion is stored within the heart and then appears outwardly, so the crux lies in what the heart is moved by. The sage never ceases, day or night, to help others, and so his grace can extend broadly to all.

Laozi said: If people do not act presumptuously, they can govern well; once they act deliberately, they cause harm. What is called "governing through Wuwei (non-action)" means governing through non-presumptuous action. Those who act deliberately cannot achieve true Wuwei, and those who cannot achieve Wuwei cannot act properly. When a person does not speak, spirit (shen) can still manifest; once one speaks too much, spirit is instead harmed. The "non-speaking" spoken of here means not acting presumptuously through words. If one takes it to mean emptiness and nothingness, it will harm the spirit within.

The sentence repeated at the end still makes the same point: only non-presumptuous action allows good governance, and only non-presumptuous speech preserves the spirit.

Wenzi said: Reputation can be built through effort, and achievements can be accomplished through effort.

In the past, Nanrong Chou was ashamed that he had not yet understood the Way of the sages, so he studied alone and diligently without slackening. He went south to visit Laozi and received a single sentence of instruction, and his mind became clear and his spirit penetrating. Even when his circumstances were hard, he kept practicing and gradually came to understand the principles. After ten days of arduous study, he was content even without eating, as if he had feasted at a lavish sacrificial banquet. As a result, his wisdom illuminated the four quarters and his name was passed down to later generations. His strategies were as vast as heaven and earth, and his insight was as fine as the tip of an autumn hair, so his praise has never ceased to this day. This shows that reputation can be built through effort.

Thus, if farmers do not labor, the granaries will not be full. If officials are not diligent, their duties cannot be carried out wholeheartedly. If generals and ministers do not strive, their achievements cannot be accomplished. If kings and lords grow lax, they will sink into obscurity in the world.

One who has attained the Dao (the Way) acts with deep concealment, like thunder gathering its force before it breaks. Such a person acts in accordance with the moment and builds achievements by relying on existing conditions, so they advance and withdraw freely, and nothing is beyond their reach. The person who has attained the Dao is sincere within and manifests De (Virtue) without, so their bounty flows out to all quarters. When they see what benefits the world, they rejoice and never forget it. When they see what harms the world, they grieve as if they had lost something of their own.

They worry about what the people worry about, and the people come to worry about what they worry about. They take the people's joys as their own joys, and the people take their joys as theirs. Therefore, no one who has truly shared the sorrows and joys of all under heaven has ever failed to accomplish kingly rule.

The sage's way of governing leaves no visible trace at first, yet in the end it cannot be matched by others. It rests on a firm foundation, stores grain that can never be exhausted, and keeps treasuries that can never be depleted. When decrees are issued, they flow like water from a spring, and when the people are mobilized, they are never driven into strife. The sage opens the paths through which people can reach success. The sage does not undertake what cannot be completed, does not pursue what cannot be obtained, does not dwell in a position that cannot last, and does not adopt actions that cannot be sustained.

When a great man enacts measures in accordance with reason, the people all obey. When decrees accord with the human heart, people follow them, and small matters gradually accumulate into great achievements. When decrees run against the human heart, people treat good deeds as calamities, and what should succeed ends in failure.

What is called a great man is firm within and clear in conduct. His firmness is like heaven and earth, which can cover and bear all things. His clarity is like the sun and moon, which can illuminate all things. A great man shows the people the good Way, holds fast to fundamental principles, and does not alter the constant Way. As a result, the people of the world follow his decrees, as grass bends before the wind.

If governance runs counter to the seasons, the heavens also fall out of order. If governance is improper in spring, the motion of Jupiter (Suixing) will not follow its regular course. If it is improper in summer, Mars (Yinghuo) will move in retrograde. If it is improper in autumn, the appearance and movement of Venus (Taibai) will lose their proper sequence. If it is improper in winter, the motion of Mercury (Chenxing) will stray from its proper position. If governance is improper in all four seasons, Saturn (Zhenxing) will be unsettled, the sun and moon will be rebuked, the five planets will fall into disorder, and comets will appear.

When governance in spring is fitting, the millet and grain flourish. When governance in summer is fitting, rain falls in its proper time. When governance in autumn is fitting, the people grow prosperous. When governance in winter is fitting, the state is peaceful and secure.

Laozi said: Before heaven and earth had taken form, all was dark and profound, mixed together as one, still and clear. The heavy, turbid qi (vital energy) condensed into the earth, and the subtle, light, clear qi rose to become the sky. Qi transformed and spread out to form the four seasons, and from it yin and yang were differentiated. The pure qi gathered to become human beings, and the coarse qi formed the insects. When the hard and the soft interacted with each other, the myriad things came into being.

The human spirit (shen) originates in Heaven, and the bones take root in Earth. When the spirit leaves the body, the bones also return to the earth, and then what is left of the "I"? Therefore the sage models himself on Heaven and accords with Earth. He is not bound by worldly custom, nor led astray by others. He takes Heaven as father and Earth as mother, takes yin-yang as his fundamental standard, and takes the changes of the four seasons as his guiding principle. Heaven is tranquil and clear, and the earth is steady and at peace. Those things that go against this regularity die, while those that accord with it grow. Therefore, quiet detachment is the dwelling place of the spirit's illumination, and empty stillness and wuwei (non-action) are where the Dao (the Way) abides.

The human spirit is received from Heaven, and the bones are received from Earth. The Daodejing says: "The Dao gives birth to One, One gives birth to Two, Two gives birth to Three, and Three gives birth to the myriad things. The myriad things carry yin on their backs and embrace yang, and the qi of yin and yang blends and flows, forming harmony."

Laozi said: "Human beings are born from the transformations of Heaven and Earth." In the first month of pregnancy, the fetus begins to form a congealed, paste-like substance. In the second month, the blood vessels take shape. In the third, the body gradually fills out; in the fourth, the fetus takes on its form; in the fifth, the sinews and tendons develop; in the sixth, the bones form; in the seventh, the body is complete; in the eighth, it begins to move; in the ninth, its movements become frequent; and at ten months, it is born.

Once the physical form is established, the five viscera (wuzang) are also in place. The liver corresponds to the eyes, the kidneys to the ears, the spleen to the tongue, the lungs to the nose, and the gallbladder to the mouth. The outside of the body is its surface (biao), and the inside is its depths (li). The head is round, modeled on Heaven, and the feet are square, modeled on Earth. Heaven has the four seasons, the Five Phases (wuxing), the Nine Provinces, and three hundred and sixty days. The human body has four limbs, five viscera, nine orifices, and three hundred and sixty joints.

Heaven has wind, rain, cold, and heat, while the human being has giving and taking, joy and anger. The gallbladder is like the clouds, the lungs like qi, the spleen like the wind, the kidneys like the rain, and the liver like thunder. Human beings and Heaven and Earth respond to one another, and the heart is the ruler of the body. The ears and eyes are like the sun and moon, and the blood and qi (xueqi) are like the wind and rain. When the sun and moon move out of order, there are eclipses and the light is diminished. When the wind and rain come out of season, they strike down the myriad things and bring calamity. If the stars of the Five Phases move irregularly, the states and provinces also suffer misfortune. Heaven and Earth correspond to the human body, and the heart governs it.

The Dao of Heaven and Earth is vast and boundless, yet it still follows measure and cherishes light and spirit (shen). How, then, can the human ears and eyes remain forever immersed in external things without rest? How can the spirit gallop on without growing weary? Therefore the sage holds fast to the spirit within and does not let the external senses run free.

Blood and qi are the radiance of the human being, and the five viscera are where its essence (jing) gathers. When the blood and qi concentrate within the body and do not scatter outward, the chest and abdomen become full, and cravings and desires diminish. With fewer desires, the ears and eyes become clear, so that one hears distinctly and sees plainly. Keen and penetrating hearing and sight are called "clarity" (ming). When the five viscera remain connected to the heart without separating, the qi and will grow strong and conduct does not turn crooked. When the spirit is vigorous, the qi does not scatter. In this way, nothing goes unheard and nothing goes unseen, affairs are more easily brought to success, calamity has no way to enter, and sorrow finds no opening to attack. Thus, when desires are excessive, what one obtains is in fact less; when the gaze reaches too far in its greed, what one truly understands is actually less.

The ears, eyes, and other orifices are the doorways through which the spirit comes and goes, and the blood and qi are the messengers and signs of the five viscera. When the ears and eyes are absorbed in sound and color, the five viscera become agitated, the blood and qi surge without rest, and the spirit scatters outward and cannot remain within the body. Even if fortune and misfortune rise before one's eyes like mountains, the scattered mind will be unable to perceive them. Therefore the sage cherishes his spirit and does not allow it to overstep its proper measure. If the sage were to let the blood and qi run wild and the spirit wander outward, even fortune and misfortune close at hand would be difficult to recognize.

The sage keeps the ears and eyes clear and unobstructed, so that they are not drawn away by external allurements. He keeps the intent and qi pure and still, and reduces his cravings and desires. Then the five viscera are at peace, and the spirit remains within and does not scatter outward. In this way, even when he looks beyond the past and into the future, and faces the shifting of fortune and misfortune, he has no need to be bewildered by it. The farther one seeks, the less true understanding one actually attains. This means that the spirit must not be allowed to indulge outward.

Five colors that disturb the eyes make a person unable to see clearly. Five sounds that flood the ears make a person unable to hear truly. Five flavors that stimulate the tongue cause sores to form in the mouth. Desires for gain and loss that stir the heart make conduct frivolous and unrestrained. Cravings cause the qi to escape outward, and love and hatred exhaust the spirit. If these disturbances are not removed early, the will and vigor will weaken a little more each day.

People cannot enjoy their full natural span of years because they overdo the nourishing of life and overindulge the body, and so they wear away their own lives. Only by not treating the deliberate pursuit of life as an obsession can one attain long life. Heaven and Earth are interconnected in their movements, and the myriad things, taken together, can be regarded as a single whole. Whoever comprehends the principle of the One (yi) can know anything; whoever does not comprehend the One has nothing that can truly be known.

I am within the world under Heaven, and I am also one of the myriad things; the other things are each things in their own right. Since things stand in opposition to one another, on what grounds should one thing be taken as the measure of another? To seek life need not be treated as a matter one must grasp and hold onto; to dislike death does not allow one to refuse it. What is regarded as lowly need not be hated; what is regarded as noble need not be delighted in. To settle oneself according to the conditions of things as they are, and not to push any matter to its extreme, is to reach the greatest joy.

Guarding the Void

Laozi said: What is called a sage is one who follows the flow of circumstances and abides in his proper place. Living in his own age, he is content with his own work. Grief and joy harm one's De (Virtue/Power), fondness and aversion burden the heart, and joy and anger also lead a person away from the Dao (the Way). Therefore, while alive, the sage follows the natural course of things, and when he dies, he changes along with all things. At rest, he accords with the De of Yin qi (vital energy); in motion, he moves in step with the course of Yang qi.

The heart is the master of the body, and spirit (shen) is the treasure of the inner mind. If the body labors without rest, it will decline; if the spirit is expended without end, it will be exhausted. For this reason, the sage follows these principles and does not dare to transgress them. He responds to what is substantial with emptiness and non-being, and he must investigate the principles within it. He receives what is full with stillness and emptiness, and he must clarify the measure within it. He remains tranquil, joyful, empty, and at peace until the end of his life. He clings to nothing and shows no partiality, embraces his De, nourishes a harmonious qi, accords with the Heavenly Dao, joins with the Dao, and draws near to De. He does not rush ahead of good fortune, nor does he walk in front of calamity. Neither life nor death can change him, and for this reason he is called "utmost spirit" (zhishen). Having reached this marvelous state, he can obtain what he seeks without waiting for it, and he can accomplish whatever he undertakes without failure.

Guarding the Non-Being

Laozi said: When one regards the world lightly, the spirit (shen) is not burdened. When one regards the myriad things as small, the heart is not confused. When one regards life and death as equal, the will is not terrified. When one accords with transformation, the mind is not disordered.

Guarding the Non-Being

Laozi said: When one regards the world lightly, the spirit (shen) is not burdened. When one regards the myriad things as small, the heart is not confused. When one regards life and death as equal, the will is not terrified. When one accords with transformation, the mind is not disordered.

The Perfected (zhiren), one who has attained the highest realm, relies on a pillar that will not bend, walks an unobstructed road, draws from a spring that will not run dry, and learns from an immortal teacher. Wherever he goes, he proceeds smoothly, and whatever he does, he succeeds. Whether he bends or stretches, lowers or raises his head, he holds to the Way of life without confusion and responds with flexibility. Calamity and fortune, gain and loss, are not enough to disturb his heart.

One who pursues benevolence and righteousness can be moved by humaneness (ren) but cannot be coerced by force. He can be set straight by moral principle (yi) but cannot be lured by profit. The gentleman dies for righteousness and is not held back by wealth and rank, nor does he fear death. How much more so, then, for one who practices non-action (wuwei)! The person of non-action has no burdens. Having no burdens, he regards the world as a shadow reflecting himself. Looking upward, he observes the conduct of the Perfected; probing deeply, he investigates the original meaning of De; and looking downward, he examines the conduct of the mundane world, and thereby sees clearly what is shameful in it. For one who does not keep the gains and losses of the world in his heart, learning is as conspicuous as a great drum set up in plain view.

Guarding the Balance

Laozi said: Honored status and abundant wealth are both things people crave, yet compared with one's own self, they are in truth of little importance. For this reason, the sage eats only to fill the belly and nourish the body, and dresses only to cover the body and ward off the cold. He is content with a life suited to himself, sets aside what is superfluous, and neither craves nor accumulates. The eyes do not covet sights, the ears do not covet sounds, the mouth does not speak excessively, and the mind does not overthink. Casting aside cleverness and cunning, he returns to simplicity and genuineness, settles the spirit, removes artificial ingenuity, and harbors no likes or dislikes. This is called da tong (great penetration), that is, reaching the Dao of nature. To rid oneself of defilement and entanglement, nothing is better than never having departed from the root. With this, what affair could fail to be accomplished?

One who understands how to nourish life and keep body and mind at peace will not be controlled by wealth; one who grasps the principle by which inner nature corresponds to external things will not be lured by power. The realm that transcends external things is vast beyond measure, and the realm deep within the heart is supremely precious. One who can recognize this vastness and this preciousness will find smoothness and ease wherever he goes.

The ancient practitioners of the Dao regulated their emotions and nature and cultivated their inner mind, sustaining themselves through tranquility and holding fast to themselves through moderation. They delighted in the Dao and felt no shame at a humble station; they were at ease in De (Virtue) and did not grieve over poverty. If one's nature does not require a thing, one does not seek it even if it is not obtained; if the heart takes no joy in a matter, one loses nothing by not doing it. Whatever does not benefit one's nature is not allowed to burden one's virtue; whatever is harmful to life is not allowed to disturb the peace of body and mind.

They did not indulge the body or its desires but regulated themselves by measure, and therefore they could become the standard for all under Heaven. They ate according to what the belly required, dressed according to the measure of the body, dwelt in a place only large enough to shelter them, and acted only in accordance with reason; even when they possessed the whole world, they did not hold it as their own. They let the myriad things grow of their own accord and did not use them for private gain. How could such a person harm his nature and life because of poverty or wealth, nobility or lowliness? One who remains this way at all times may truly be said to have penetrated the Dao.

"Shou Ping" ("Guarding Equanimity"), "Shou Yi" ("Guarding Simplicity"), and "Shou Qing" ("Guarding Purity") are the chapter headings placed before and after the sections.

Laozi said: Human beings receive primordial qi (yuanqi) from Heaven. The ears and eyes perceive sounds and colors, the nose and mouth perceive fragrance and stench, and the skin perceives cold and warmth. These perceptions are essentially the same in everyone. Yet some are thereby led to death while others survive, and some become gentlemen while others become petty people. The difference lies in the restraint and guidance each person has received.

Shen (spirit) is the depth of wisdom. When shen is clear, wisdom is lucid. Wisdom is the master of the heart-mind, and when wisdom is impartial, the heart-mind is at peace. People do not look at themselves in turbid, flowing water but in water that is clear and still. Only when shen is clear and the mind is tranquil can one see things as they truly are. To employ the intellect, one must know when not to use it.

A bright mirror is not clouded by dust, and a person of clear shen is not confused by cravings and desires. When the mind concentrates on one place, its intention settles and gathers there. When shen then returns to emptiness and stillness, agitation dissolves and the breath is gathered in. This is the state in which the sage roams at ease. Therefore, one who would govern the world must understand the nature of human beings and the reality of life, and only then can the world be well governed.

Shou Zhen (Guarding the Authentic)

Laozi said: The so-called sage simply follows his nature and appropriately satisfies his needs and feelings. He eats in proportion to his appetite and nourishes his body according to its requirements. When shen returns to emptiness and stillness, agitation dissolves and the breath is gathered in. This is the state in which the sage roams at ease. Therefore, one who would govern the world must understand the nature of human beings and the reality of life, and only then can the world be well governed.

Shou Zhen (Guarding the Authentic)

Laozi said: The so-called sage is simply one who follows what the self actually needs. Eating according to one's capacity, dressing according to one's build, and restraining one's desires leave no room for greedy and corrupt thoughts to arise. Therefore, one who is able to possess the world will certainly not treat the world as an aim, and one who is able to obtain fame will certainly not pursue reputation through transgressive conduct. One who truly understands the reality of xingming (nature and life) will find that benevolence and righteousness naturally follow.

The sage's spirit is unclouded and his heart carries no burden. He is thoroughly penetrating and calmly without concern. Power and profit cannot tempt him, sensual pleasures cannot bewilder him, eloquent debaters cannot persuade him, the clever cannot sway him, and the brave cannot make him afraid. This is the way of being in the world of the zhenren (Perfected Person, one who has attained the Dao and returned to genuine simplicity).

The root from which things grow does not itself rise and fall with birth and death, and the source from which things transform does not itself change with their transformation. One who does not grasp this principle, even if he could govern heaven and earth, illuminate the sun and moon, and dissect matters as one unties interlocked rings, speaking words that could moisten metal and stone, would still be of no benefit to the world. Therefore the sage does not lose the root that he holds fast to.

Shoujing (Guarding Stillness): maintaining quietude and not being stirred by external things.

Guarding the Methods (Shǒu Fǎ)

Laozi said: Tranquility, detachment, and freedom from desire are the methods for nourishing life. Peace, joy, humility, and non-action (Wuwei, wúwéi) are the basis for abiding in De (dé, Virtue). When external things do not disturb the heart, one's innate nature finds its proper settling. When the heart is still and does not act rashly, harmonious Qi (qì) allows De to dwell in its proper place. To govern worldly affairs by the way of nourishing life, and to pass one's life embracing De, may be said to truly embody the Dao (dào, the Way).

Such a person's Qi and blood do not stagnate or become obstructed, and no pent-up stagnation gathers in the five viscera. Fortune and misfortune cannot disturb his mind, and praise and blame cannot stain it. Without reaching such a state, who could truly come to one's aid? Even one who has talent but has not met a suitable moment still cannot free himself from difficulty, let alone one who lacks the Dao.

One whose eyes can discern the tip of an autumn hair often cannot hear the sound of thunder, and one whose ears can distinguish the chime of gold and jade may not be able to see the shape of Mount Tai. Therefore, when the mind concentrates on minute things, it easily overlooks the vast.

Now myriad things crowd before the eyes, drawing on and wearing down our lives and seizing our Jing (jīng, essence), like a spring welling up without end. Even if we wish not to receive these influences, how could we manage it? If a basin of water is left still for a whole day, it clears, and one can see one's eyebrows and eyelashes reflected in it. If the water is turbid, a slight stirring makes it impossible to discern even its outlines. The Shen (shén, spirit) is difficult to clarify, yet it readily becomes clouded, just like this basin of water.

Laozi said: The highest sage models himself on the Dao of Heaven; the next honors the worthy; the next entrusts governance to subordinates. Relying solely on subordinates leads toward ruin, and knowing only how to honor the worthy easily becomes a source of delusion. Modeling oneself on the Dao of Heaven is the fundamental method for governing all under heaven.

Emptiness and stillness are the Way of the ruler. When the heart is empty and free of desire, nothing cannot be contained; when the heart is calm, it can abide steadily in all affairs. Only one who understands the Way of emptiness and stillness can penetrate the beginning and end of things. Therefore the sage governs through stillness, and disorder arises from reckless action. Thus it is said: do not disturb or entangle the myriad things, and they will clear of themselves; do not agitate or startle them, and they will settle of themselves. This is the Dao of Heaven.

Laozi said: The Son of Heaven, the dukes, and the marquises regard the whole realm, or a single state, as their household, and regard the myriad things as their property. Holding a domain and multitudes of things as vast as this, their momentum easily swells and their minds easily grow proud. Strong states then send armies to invade weaker ones, and weak rulers may arrogantly bully those beneath them. Setting the mind on such extravagance and display is like a violent gale or a driving rain, which cannot last.

For this reason, the sage uses the Dao (the Way) to bring stability to the realm, holds fast to the root and follows what is natural, and does not harm the inner Qi (vital energy). The sage perceives what is subtle, keeps to softness and yielding, steps back without claiming possession, and emulates rivers and seas. Rivers and seas do not strive to seize, so achievement and reputation come of their own accord. Without forcing anything, they are able to accomplish the enterprise of a true king. The sage dwells in the world's position of gentle, humble receptivity, like the female, and so the spirit can endure. By cherishing the self, the sage is able to attain honor.

One who governs a state of ten thousand chariots treats the accomplishments of the myriad things as their own achievement and reputation. The power and responsibility they bear are very heavy, and they cannot regard themselves lightly. Those who despise themselves cannot achieve merit or fame. The Dao appears to build the great from the small, and to govern the many by taking the few as its foundation. Therefore, the sage guides the realm by the Dao: being soft and subtle is a matter of perceiving the minute, and being frugal and restrained is a matter of knowing how to take little. Only by seeing the small can one accomplish the great, and only by knowing how to take little can one bring about completeness.

The Way of Heaven suppresses what is high and supports what is low, reducing what is excessive and supplementing what is deficient. Rivers and seas lie in low places, and so the realm returns to them and nourishes them. The sage is humble and reverent, quiet and yielding, displaying the bearing of one who dwells below. Empty of heart and free of self-satisfaction, the sage displays the appearance of lacking something. Only by dwelling low can one reach the heights, and only by being free of self-satisfaction can one perfect virtue.

Those who boast of themselves cannot stand firm; those who are extravagant cannot endure; those who force themselves to be strong invite death; those who overflow will head toward ruin. A gale cannot blow all day, and a small valley cannot fill in an instant. The gale expresses a violent and overbearing qi, which is why it cannot last and will eventually dissipate. The small valley lies where forceful things converge, and so it inevitably is struck by rushing waters.

Therefore, the sage holds to the Dao of the feminine and yielding, removes extravagance and arrogance, and does not dare to force strength. By keeping to softness and yielding, one instead achieves firmness and strength. By not daring to be extravagant or arrogant, one can endure over the long term.

Laozi said: when the Way of Heaven (Tiandao) reaches its extreme, it turns; when something is full to overflowing, it must lose some of its substance. So it is with the movement of the sun and moon. The sage (shengren) each day diminishes private desires so that the heart-mind remains empty and tranquil, and does not dare to become self-satisfied. Through a yielding and humble attitude, he steadily refines his cultivation, so his merit and virtue (de) do not decline. This is the regularity of the Way of Heaven.

People's nature is to prefer what is high and to dislike what is low, to desire gain and to dislike loss, to seek profit and to avoid hardship, to value honor and to shun humility. For this reason ordinary people compete with one another, and in doing so they fail to accomplish anything. Those who cling to possession end up with nothing. Therefore the sage models himself on the Way of Heaven. He achieves results without deliberate action (wuwei, non-action), and he gains something without clinging to possession. He shares the same feelings as the masses, yet follows a different way of conduct, and this is why he can endure over the long term.

In the time of the Three Sovereigns and Five Emperors there was a vessel used as a warning to oneself, called the you zhi (a wine vessel). When it was empty, it stood upright; when it was full, it tipped over. All things follow this same principle: they accomplish results without deliberate action, gain without clinging to possession, share the same feelings as the masses while following a different way of conduct, and therefore endure.

When a thing reaches its peak, it begins to decline. The sun, once it reaches its zenith, begins to slant; the moon, once it is full, begins to wane; and joy, once it ends, may turn into sorrow. Therefore, those who are clever and insightful should preserve themselves through simplicity and plainness. Those who have broad learning and are skilled at debate should preserve themselves through brevity. Those who possess strength, courage, and resolve should preserve themselves through reverence. Those whose wealth, rank, and power are great should preserve themselves through humility. And those whose kindness extends to all under heaven should preserve themselves through deference. These five practices were what the former kings used to keep hold of the realm.

One who follows the Dao does not pursue fullness. Precisely because he does not seek to be full, the old is not cast aside wholesale, and so he does not keep starting anew from the beginning.

Laozi said: The sage follows the yin qi and remains still, follows the yang qi and expands, and so reaches a state in which he does not pursue joy deliberately. Once he reaches this point, nothing can fail to make him joyful, and he has attained the greatest joy.

For this reason, joy arises from within. It does not depend on external things to please the heart. Only then is there a joy that truly belongs to oneself, and a resolute will that holds to its own course, a worth that exceeds even the highest positions under Heaven. This is because the sage follows the natural patterns of things and grasps the key to the world. He does not place his foundation in external things or in other people but stands on himself. When body and mind have gained what they need, all that the myriad things require is already complete.

Those who understand the Dao of inner cultivation are not led about by craving, liking, and aversion. Therefore they hold no fixed delight or anger, and they do not sink into pleasure or hardship. In their view, the myriad things are profound and equal, and there is no absolute distinction of right and wrong.

Those of firm principle stand steadfast, and even women can hold to an unchanging conduct. They do not rely on power to become exalted, on wealth to grow rich, or on brute force to show strength. They do not covet goods or worldly fame, nor do they feel secure because of noble status or feel endangered because of lowly status. Body, spirit, breath, and will each dwell in their proper places.

The body is the dwelling of life, qi is the root of life, and shen (spirit) is the master of life. If any one of the three loses its proper place, the others will also be harmed. Therefore, when shen takes the lead, the body benefits; if the desires of the body govern everything, the spirit will be injured.

Those who are insatiably greedy and overly desirous are often seduced by power and profit, admire fame and status, and rely on cleverness and wit to outdo others. The higher their position, the faster their spirit is depleted, and once they indulge in this for a long time, it becomes difficult to return. When the body becomes closed and resistant, the spirit has no way to enter, and so there often arise the troubles of dullness, forgetfulness, and loss of self.

Spirit, will, and breath grow daily more full and strong when they are at rest, and daily more depleted and aged when they are agitated. Thus the sage preserves and nourishes his spirit, keeps his breath calm and gentle, keeps his body steady and unhurried, and rises and falls together with the Dao as it changes. In this way, the transformations of the myriad things all accord with him, and the various affairs of the world can all be met with composure.

Shou Pu (Guarding the Uncarved Block): Keeping to simplicity and original genuineness.

Laozi said: The so-called zhenren (Perfected Person, one who has realized and merged with the Great Dao) is one whose nature accords with the Dao. Therefore, though he seems to have nothing, he is full, yet appears empty. He keeps his heart level and at peace, rising and falling with the changes of the Dao. In this way, the transformations of all things accord with him, and every shift in affairs receives a response.

Shou Pu (Guarding the Uncarved Block)

Laozi said: The so-called Perfected Person is one whose nature accords with the Dao. Therefore, though he seems to have nothing, he is full, yet appears empty. He cultivates his inner nature and does not adorn his outward appearance. He understands the uncarved simplicity of his original nature, does not act recklessly or willfully, and so returns to plainness. He embodies the root and guards the shen (spirit), roaming in the source of Heaven and Earth. He wanders serenely beyond the dust of the world and rambles in the realm of wuwei (non-action) and non-affairs. Clever schemes do not occupy his mind. He sees through falsehood and does not change with external things. When he witnesses transformations, he still holds fast to the root. His attention turns inward, and he regards fortune and misfortune with clarity and equanimity.

When he dwells at rest, he is not aware of what he is doing, and when he travels, he is not attached to where he is going. He knows without study, perceives without looking, accomplishes without deliberate action, and keeps things in order without governing them. He responds when stirred, moves when pressed, and goes forth only when he must, like light shining naturally or a shadow appearing with the object. He takes the Dao as his standard, acts in accordance with the times, and keeps his mind open, still, clear, and free of desire.

He regards the myriad lives as one transformation and all their differences as one source. Though his jingqi (essential vital energy) is abundant, he does not force its use. Though his shen is complete, he does not display it to show off. He guards the undivided simplicity of the primordial, and he stands at the subtle and utmost center. He sleeps without dreams, his wisdom does not stir recklessly, his actions leave no visible trace, and even in stillness he is not bound by his form. He exists as if he did not exist, and lives as if dead. He comes and goes without obstruction, and the power of his spirit can even command ghosts and spirits. The realm his spirit reaches extends as far as the Dao itself.

When his spirit flows freely without losing its origin, and he harmonizes with the myriad things day and night without pause, he is like spring nourishing all living things. This is how he brings vitality and the seasons into his heart. The body decays, but the spirit need not change with it. Responding to the unchanging with the unchanging, the thousand transformations and myriad shifts never come to an end. Things that change ultimately return to formlessness, while the unchanging nature endures together with Heaven and Earth. The nature that endures with Heaven and Earth is not altered by the changes it undergoes, while the things it encounters each change in their own way. This is how the Perfected Person roams within the Great Dao of pure simplicity.

Volume Four is entitled "Fuyan" (Tallies of Words).

Laozi said: The Dao (the Way) is so lofty that nothing is higher than it, and so profound that nothing lies beneath it. It is as level as a plumb line, as round as a compass, and as square as a carpenter's square. The Dao embraces Heaven and Earth without distinguishing inside from outside. It penetrates the vast and spreads over the myriad things, reaching everywhere. Therefore, one who perceives and accords with the Dao does not lightly rage or rejoice, feels no anxiety when sitting in stillness, and does not dream when sleeping. Upon seeing things, one names them, and when affairs arrive, one responds to them.

Laozi said: Those who seek to hold fame and be praised by others will certainly create disturbances. Once disturbance arises, they abandon public spirit to pursue private gain, turn away from the Dao, and indulge themselves. Seeing others praised, they put on the appearance of goodness, set up titles, and advertise their own wisdom. In this way, governance departs from reason and actions fall out of step with the times. When governance is unreasonable, censure multiplies, and when actions are out of season, results are hard to achieve. Even if they recklessly hope for success by luck, that success is not enough to offset the censure, and once they fail, the failure is more than enough to bring about their own ruin.

Laozi said: Do not be the master of fame, do not be the storehouse of schemes, do not take all affairs upon yourself, and do not regard yourself as the center of wisdom. Hide yourself in the formless, yet act without slackening. Do not rush ahead of good fortune, nor initiate calamity. Affairs arise from the formless, and action comes from necessity. To obtain good fortune, first avoid misfortune; to gain benefit, first keep far from harm. Therefore, one who relies on Wuwei (non-action) for peace falls into danger once that peace is lost, and one who governs through Wuwei sees the state fall into chaos once the Way of governance is lost.

Thus it is said: "Do not shine like jade, nor stand aloof and jutting like stone." Writing that is overly ornate injures its own substance, and animals with overly beautiful horns are often hunted for them. Sweet springs eventually run dry, and straight trees are easily felled. Empty, showy words may later invite faults, just as jade hidden in mountains is mined and damaged. The calamities of the common people also often arise from boastful speech.

Laozi said: Acting in accordance with the circumstances gives one something to rely on, while those who do not understand the Dao (dào) often turn good fortune into calamity. Heaven is like the canopy of a carriage, and Earth is like its floorboard. One who is skilled at employing the Dao will in the end neither fall into exhaustion nor suffer harm. The Five Phases (Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, Water) overcome one another, and each has its moment of prevailing over the other. Wherever Heaven covers, nothing fails to correspond to it. Therefore, the Daodejing (Dàodé Jīng) says: "To know that one does not know is superior; to think that one knows is a sickness."

Laozi said: Gold is born within mountains and jade within stone, yet gold and jade in turn wear away the mountains and stone. Trees give birth to insects, and the insects return to gnaw at the trees. People make all kinds of things, and these too may turn back and harm themselves. Those who love to provoke trouble are always set back by it, and those who contend for profit always fall into hardship because of it. A skilled swimmer may drown, and a skilled rider may fall. Each person may bring calamity upon themselves through the very things they are good at and fond of. The key to a harvest lies in seizing the right moment, not in contention. The key to governance lies in following the Dao, not in relying on sages. Earth dwells in the low place and does not compete for height, so it remains stable and free from danger. Water flows downward and does not compete for speed, so it flows on without stagnating. Therefore, the sage does not cling, and so suffers no loss. He acts through non-action (wúwéi), and so nothing is ruined.

Laozi said: A single saying can have an endless reach; two sayings can become the standard for all under Heaven; three sayings can enable the feudal lords to dominate; four sayings can make a person unrivaled in the world. Holding fast to integrity and sincerity makes the Way's reasoning endless. Following virtue (De, dé) makes one the standard for all under Heaven. Promoting those of worth and virtue makes the feudal lords strong. Hating the wrongdoing of a few and cherishing the many makes one unrivaled in the world.

Laozi said: There are three ways a person may die, and none of them is fixed by fate. Those who have no restraint in eating and drinking and who despise their own bodies will have illness take their lives. Those who indulge in pleasure without satisfaction and pursue desire without end will have punishment take their lives. Those who use the few to oppose the many, and the weak to bully the strong, will have war take their lives.

Laozi said: Those who give generously will receive fine returns, and the deeper the resentment one plants, the heavier the calamity it brings. To give little while expecting great reward, or to accumulate resentment while hoping to avoid misfortune, is something that has never happened. Observe the causes of the past, and you can know what results will follow in the future.

Laozi said: To investigate the decree of Heaven (tianming), to govern the heart-mind, to regulate one's likes and dislikes, and to keep feelings and nature in proper measure is to let the Way of governance (zhidao) flow through. To investigate the decree of Heaven is to remain unbewildered by fortune and misfortune. To govern the heart-mind is to refrain from anger or delight at whim. To regulate likes and dislikes is to refrain from craving useless things. To keep feelings and nature in proper measure is to keep desire from exceeding its bounds. Remaining unbewildered by fortune and misfortune allows one's actions and stillness to accord with the proper timing. Refraining from anger or delight at whim keeps reward and punishment free of partiality. Refraining from craving useless things keeps desire from harming one's nature. Keeping desire within bounds allows one to understand how to nourish life and to be content. These four points need not be sought outside oneself or depend on others; they are attained by reflecting upon oneself.

Laozi said: Do not pursue conduct that invites criticism, and do not resent others for pointing out your faults. Cultivate virtue sufficient to earn praise, yet do not seek others' commendation. One cannot guarantee that disaster will never arrive, so one should trust that oneself is not all-knowing. Nor can one guarantee that good fortune will surely come, so one should trust that oneself is not one who yields in everything and contends in nothing. When disaster arrives, it is not one's own doing, so one need not grieve in adversity. When good fortune arrives, it is not wholly brought about by oneself, so one need not boast in prosperity. Therefore, dwelling at ease, the heart-mind is joyful, and without forcing action, affairs are well governed.

Laozi said: One who follows the Dao (the Way) keeps hold of what one already possesses and does not chase what one does not yet have. To pursue what has not yet been obtained may cause the loss of what one already has; to cultivate what is already in hand may bring about what one desires. When governance is not yet stable, to single-mindedly pursue an outward appearance of peace is certain to bring danger; when conduct has not yet avoided error, to hasten after reputation is certain to bring setbacks. Therefore, the greatest blessing is the absence of calamity, and the greatest gain is the absence of loss. Thus it is said:

Things sometimes suffer harm through increase and benefit through decrease. The Dao should not be treated as a means of gaining advantage or urging success; the Dao can settle the mind and keep one clear of calamity. Therefore, it is better to maintain freedom from misfortune than to seek good fortune deliberately, and better not to seek merit than to incur fault in pursuing it.

The state of the Dao is vast and profound. It follows the momentum of Heaven, shares its qi with Heaven, harbors no calculating thoughts, and makes no advance provisions or reserves. It does not deliberately welcome the affairs of people and things that arrive, nor does it deliberately detain those that depart. Whether one dwells in the east, west, north, or south, the mind remains self-standing and settled, undrawn by external things.

Thus, amid the many crooked and improper currents, one does not lose uprightness; flowing and changing together with all under Heaven, one does not leave the Dao that one holds to. One does not deliberately parade goodness, nor deliberately avoid ugliness and evil. Following the Way of Heaven, one does not take the initiative to act, nor cling stubbornly to one's own opinions; accords with the principles of Heaven, one does not scheme in advance, nor run against the timing of events. One entrusts affairs to the natural order, neither forcing them to be obtained nor declining the blessings that come, obeying the laws of Heaven. When the heart harbors no improper hopes for fortune, no unexpected calamity arises from outside; with neither good fortune nor misfortune taking root, no one can harm oneself.

Therefore, one of the highest virtue speaks as fairly as one who distributes goods equitably, and acts in ways that bring blessings to the multitude. Above and below are of one mind; one takes no crooked paths and grows no unnecessary branches. Such a person restrains what is depraved and opens the way toward goodness, and the common people will then walk the correct path.

Laozi says: When someone does good, they are encouraged; when they do wrong, they are scrutinized. Encouragement gives rise to demands, while scrutiny brings worry. Therefore, one who follows the Dao should not pursue fame, but withdraw and cultivate the self. The sage does not seek fame through action or win praise through cleverness and talent. In managing affairs, the sage follows nature and does not impose their own will. Deliberate action may fail; striving for something may not attain it. People may become trapped in difficulty, but the Dao is not thereby obstructed. To have wisdom without acting recklessly is as effective as having no wisdom; to have ability without acting rashly is as virtuous as being incapable. To have wisdom is like having none; to have ability is like having none. Once the principle is understood, human artifice disappears.

People and the Dao cannot both shine forth at once. If people cling to their reputation, they abandon the Dao; when the power of the Dao surpasses human effort, reputation falls silent. If the Dao’s influence wanes while human reputation grows prominent, this invites danger and ruin.

Laozi says: Entrusting an honest person to distribute property is not as good as first fixing each person’s share and then drawing lots to decide who receives what. Why? Because someone who deliberately tries to be fair is often less fair than someone who has no inclination to favor anyone. Entrusting an incorruptible person to guard property is not as good as locking it away and sealing it securely, because someone with desires is less incorruptible than someone without them. When others point out a person’s faults, that person grows resentful; when they see their own ugliness in a mirror, they may feel pleased with themselves. If people can deal with external things without entangling themselves in them, they can avoid being burdened by them.

Laozi says: Those who serve others either offer precious gifts or speak humbly. If the gifts are insufficient, the other person’s desires remain unsatisfied. Though one’s bearing may be deferential and one’s words humble, dealing through reasoned negotiation alone may not secure the relationship. Even when agreements are made and oaths sworn, they may be broken, leaving things worse than before. Therefore, the noble person does not adorn themselves outwardly with benevolence and righteousness, but cultivates the arts of the Dao within.

To govern a state, one must manage its affairs well, do all one can to protect its borders, urge the people to defend it to the death, and strengthen its walls and cities, so that those above and below are united in guarding the state and its altars of soil and grain. Then, even if someone comes pretending to be benevolent and righteous, they will not attack without cause; even if someone covets profit, they will not attack a place that is difficult to seize. This is the way to preserve the state and the principle for securing advantage.

Laozi said: The sage is not ruled by the desires of the heart, while ordinary people are often unable to restrain their appetites. The noble person follows upright energy, while the petty person acts in accordance with deviant energy. When the heart feels in accord with its nature, one’s conduct aligns with what is right, and one acts according to the natural course of things without being constrained by external objects, this is upright energy. Indulging in food and drink, becoming absorbed in sights and sounds, letting joy and anger run their course without regard for the consequences—this is deviant energy. Deviant and upright energy oppose one another, and desire and nature damage one another; they cannot coexist. When one rises, the other declines. Therefore, the sage casts aside excessive desires and follows their nature.

The eyes delight in beautiful sights, the ears in sounds, the nose in fragrance, and the mouth in fine flavors. These senses combine to give pleasure, yet what they bring ultimately involves gain and harm: this is the source of cravings and desires. The ears, eyes, nose, and mouth do not know for themselves what they should pursue; the heart directs them. If the heart can keep each in its proper place, one can see clearly that desire is not impossible to restrain.

Laozi said: Those who care for the body and nurture their nature regulate their sleep and daily routines, eat and drink in moderation, temper joy and anger, and act and rest in due measure. When their inner nature is settled, deviant energy has no way to enter. If they merely adorn the outside while injuring what is within, indulging their emotions harms the spirit; pursuing outward refinement also obscures what is genuine. To forget not for a moment that one must become a worthy person only troubles one’s nature; to worry after every hundred steps about whether one’s appearance is proper must surely wear out the body. Thus, feathers that are too splendid injure the body, and branches and leaves that grow too luxuriantly harm the roots. There is no way under Heaven to bring both sides to their utmost.

Laozi says: Heaven is bright, yet it does not worry that the people live in darkness; the earth is rich in resources, yet it does not worry that the people are poor. One whose De (Virtue/Power) has reached the highest level stands firm and unmoving like a mountain, becoming a standard that travelers can follow. By setting himself right, he also enables all things to find their proper place. He does not treat his kindness as a reward bestowed on others, and those who receive help do not regard it as the benefactor’s merit. Thus he can remain secure and endure.

Heaven and earth do not contend with the myriad things, so nothing can be taken from them. They do not claim merit for themselves, and so incur no resentment. Those who are quick to anger are sure to attract much resentment; those who are accustomed to giving are also easily deprived by others. Only by following the natural course of heaven and earth can one grasp the principles of things. Thus, when one’s reputation rises, slander often follows; when good deeds become known, ill will may follow as well. Benefit may become the beginning of harm, and good fortune may be an omen of disaster. If one does not deliberately seek benefit, one will not be harmed on its account; if one does not deliberately seek good fortune, one will not invite disaster on its account. Preserving oneself is the constant way; wealth and status are merely things that reside outside oneself.

Laozi says: Only by following the natural course of heaven and earth can one grasp the principles of things. Thus, when one’s reputation rises, slander often follows; when good deeds become known, ill will may follow as well. Benefit may become the beginning of harm, and good fortune may be an omen of disaster. If one does not deliberately seek benefit, one will not be harmed on its account; if one does not deliberately seek good fortune, one will not invite disaster on its account. Preserving oneself is the constant way; wealth and status are merely things that reside outside oneself.

Laozi says: The sage does not wear unusual or bizarre clothes, nor does he do anything strange or contrary to the natural order. His clothing is free of odd embellishments, and his conduct does not deliberately draw attention. When successful, he is not ostentatious; when in hardship, he is not alarmed. When honored, he does not show off; when he withdraws, he does not consider himself disgraced. He is different from others without seeming eccentric, and works alongside them without deliberately putting himself forward. This is called “great penetration”: the state of being attuned to the Great Dao.

Laozi says: Those who cultivate the Dao should put themselves in order and calmly await what Heaven has allotted them. When the time comes, they must not force its arrival or try to pull it back. When the time passes, they must not rise on tiptoe to grasp at it and hold it fast. Thus the sage does not press forward in pursuit of opportunity, nor retreat to avoid it, but simply follows the circumstances. If an opportunity moves away, the sage lets it go; if it falls behind, the sage does not rush to catch up. The sage neither deliberately withdraws nor deliberately draws near, but stands calmly in their own place.

The Way of Heaven shows no favoritism; it helps only those who possess De (Virtue/Power). Good fortune does not come because one has deliberately sought it, so one does not boast of one’s merit. Disaster may also arrive without having been brought upon oneself, so one does not regret one’s actions on that account. The mind remains peaceful and still, letting no external thing damage one’s De. Even on hearing a dog bark, one does not panic, because one trusts that one’s own original nature has indeed done nothing beyond its proper bounds. Thus, those who understand the Great Dao are not confused, and those who understand Heaven’s allotment are not anxious.

After an emperor dies, his bones are buried in the wilderness, yet people make offerings to him in the Bright Hall, the ancient place for sacrifices and important ceremonies. This is because spirit is more precious than the physical form. When spirit can govern the body, the body follows; when the body overpowers spirit, a person falls into distress. Even when intelligence and talent are put to use, they must return to spirit. This is called “Great Penetration,” the state of reaching a thorough understanding of the Great Dao.

Laozi says: In ancient times, those skilled at preserving themselves took joy in De and did not regard low status as a burden, so fame and position could not shake their resolve. They took joy in the Great Dao and did not regard poverty as a burden, so material gain could not sway their hearts. Thus, they could be content in humble circumstances and remain inwardly tranquil and detached.

To calculate one’s life by the years one has lived, and then grieve over turmoil in the world, is like worrying that a river will run dry and weeping as one pours more water into it: it does nothing to help. Therefore, only those who do not fret over turmoil in the world, but take joy in cultivating and putting themselves in order, are fit to speak of the Great Dao.

Laozi says: People face three kinds of resentment. Those of high rank are easily envied; those in powerful offices are easily disliked by their ruler; and those with generous stipends are easily resented. To avoid these, one should become more humble as one’s rank rises, more cautious inwardly as one’s office grows in power, and more generous in giving as one’s stipend increases. If one does these three things, resentment will not arise. Thus, the honored must take the humble as their root, and high positions must rest upon low places.

Laozi said: Words are used to communicate with others, and listening is how we understand one another. If we hear but do not understand, or cannot take in what is said, people cannot communicate. Those with hearing difficulties often do not know how things can be communicated. But is it only the body that can have difficulty seeing or hearing clearly? The heart can suffer the same way. When the heart is closed off and does not know how to connect with others, it is dark and deaf within.

The Dao is the root of all things. All that has form is generated from it, so it is like a close relative. Living beings that eat grain and breathe are nurtured by it and live long, so it is benevolent like a ruler. The wise learn from it, so it is discerning like a teacher. People often spend their energy on things that bring no benefit, harming what would benefit them. As a result, their knowledge remains narrow, and they always feel short of time. If they used the time they spend playing chess and seeking amusement to ask about the principles of the Dao, what they heard and saw would be far more profound. The difference between seeking guidance and not seeking it is like the difference between an open and clear heart and one that is dark and deaf.

Laozi said: People are won over by De, but they do not truly submit to force. Whether De is present determines whether people’s hearts will turn toward someone. Therefore, if sages wish to rise above others, they first place themselves below them; if they wish to be respected, they first respect others; if they wish to surpass others, they first overcome themselves; if they wish to humble others, they first humble themselves. The principles of high and low, honor and humility, should be understood in accordance with the Dao.

The ancient sage kings spoke modestly and placed themselves behind others. As a result, people throughout the world gladly supported them without growing weary, and honored them without feeling burdened. This was because their De was deep and abundant, and their Qi was harmonious. To understand that one must give first in order to receive, and that taking the place behind others can lead one to the front, is to come close to the Dao.

Laozi said: When one’s virtue is inadequate yet one receives excessive favor, ridicule will follow. When one’s abilities are insufficient yet one holds a high position, danger will arise. When one has achieved no notable merit yet enjoys a generous stipend, one’s standing will be hard to secure. Thus, things may sometimes be harmed by being increased, and sometimes benefit from being diminished. Everyone knows to pursue gain, but few know to guard against calamity. Only the sage understands that calamity may bring benefit, and benefit may turn into calamity. When trees bear fruit year after year, their roots are sure to suffer. A household that digs up hidden treasure will later meet with misfortune. Excessive gain can become a calamity: this is the law of the Dao (the Way).

Laozi said: The petty person acts only in the hope of gaining an advantage by luck; the noble person acts in pursuit of what is right. Those who do good do not seek fame, yet fame follows. Fame does not appear because it has been arranged in advance with gain; gain follows it as well. The two pursue the same thing, but ultimately reach different ends. Thus, when action brings benefit, loss often comes along with it. Those who speak without any constant standard of right and wrong, and act without any consistent measure of what is fitting, are petty people. Those who excel at only one task and possess only one skill are people of middling ability. Only sages can balance and possess many abilities, and put their skills and talents to use.

Laozi said: Life is a temporary sojourn; death is the return. Therefore, when the world is at peace, sustain yourself through righteousness; when the world is in turmoil, preserve righteousness through yourself. The day of death is the end of a person’s conduct, so the noble person uses life with care. Life is bestowed by Heaven, while one’s fate depends on the times one encounters. To have ability yet not encounter the right time is Heaven’s will; to pursue something in accordance with the right path is one’s own doing, while whether one obtains it depends on fate. The noble person can do good, but cannot guarantee a reward of good fortune; unwilling to do wrong, yet not necessarily spared calamity. Therefore, when the time is right, the noble person advances and obtains what is sought through righteousness—what is there to celebrate? When the time is not right, the noble person withdraws and yields one’s place in accordance with ritual—what is there to lament? Thus, those who remain unregretful even in poverty and low station do so because they have obtained what they truly value.

Laozi said: Within the human heart are two kinds of Qi: harmonious and disordered. When the heart is at peace, Qi flows smoothly; when the heart is unsettled, Qi becomes turbulent. Whether the heart is peaceful or unsettled depends on whether one accords with Dao: when one attains Dao, the heart is at peace; when one loses Dao, it becomes unsettled. When the heart is peaceful, people yield to one another; when it is unsettled, they fight. Yielding builds up De, while fighting brings calamity. When De grows abundant, Qi flows smoothly; when calamities arise, Qi becomes turbulent. Those whose Qi flows smoothly restrain themselves and help others flourish; those whose Qi is turbulent and whose hearts are unsettled harm others to satisfy themselves. These two kinds of Qi can be guided and regulated through Dao.

The Way of Heaven is like an echo answering a sound: as De accumulates, blessings arise; as calamities accumulate, resentment arises. The decay of government often begins with complacency when official duties are flourishing. The decline of filial piety often begins when imbalance arises within relationships among spouses, children, and relatives. Trouble often comes when people believe their worries have been resolved, and illness often worsens just as recovery seems near. Thus it is said: “Approach the end with the same care as the beginning, and nothing will fail.”

Laozi said: If you appoint crooked people and then seek to appoint upright ones, how could there be no obstacles? If you appoint upright people but allow crooked ones to remain in power, the upright and crooked will become mixed together and contaminate one another.

Laozi said: The sage faces life and death with equanimity. The foolish also experience life and death, but do not understand how to balance benefit and harm. Dao hangs high in Heaven, and the myriad things are spread across Earth; the key to bringing them into harmony lies with human beings. If a ruler cannot bring affairs of state and the people’s hearts into harmony, society will become polluted and chaotic.

Laozi said: The sage faces life and death with equanimity. The foolish also experience life and death, but do not understand how to balance benefit and harm. Dao hangs high in Heaven, and the myriad things are spread across Earth; the key to bringing them into harmony lies with human beings. If a ruler cannot bring affairs of state and the people’s hearts into harmony, the Qi of Heaven cannot descend, and the Qi within Earth cannot rise. Yin-Yang will fall out of balance, and wind and rain will come out of season. Disease will spread among the people, who will suffer hunger and hardship.

Laozi said: Gaining an army of ten thousand is not as good as hearing one apt remark; obtaining the Marquis of Sui’s pearl, a legendary treasure, is not as good as understanding what causes events; obtaining the He Shi jade, a famous precious stone, is not as good as knowing which way events ought to turn. Though the world is vast, a state that delights in using force will still perish. Even if a state is at peace, delighting in warfare will bring it into danger. Thus it is said: “Let there be a small state with few people, and let the people possess the tools for working their fields, but not use them lightly.”

Laozi said: Those who can establish royal authority and dominate the realm are surely skilled at winning. Those who can defeat their opponents are surely powerful. Those who can make themselves powerful are surely skilled at drawing on the strength of others. Those who can draw on the strength of many are surely able to win people’s hearts. Those who can win people’s hearts must first be able to master themselves. And those who can master themselves are surely gentle and humble.

One who can defeat those weaker than oneself will find progress stalled when facing an equal opponent. When one uses softness and weakness to overcome an equal, the outcome is often hard to predict. Thus, the one who is skilled at making it impossible for others to prevail can achieve the greatest victory.

In “Book Five: Dao and De,” Wen Zi also says: One who can defeat those weaker than oneself will find progress stalled when facing an equal opponent. When one uses softness and weakness to overcome an equal, the outcome is hard to predict. Thus, the one who is skilled at making it impossible for others to prevail can achieve the greatest victory.

Wenzi asked about the Dao. Laozi replied: “Unless your learning and understanding are sufficiently deep, you cannot truly hear the Dao. People listen to the Dao for different reasons: to expand their wisdom, to put it into practice, or to establish achievements and gain a reputation. Unless their understanding is precise and thorough, they cannot grasp its principles. Thus, the highest learners comprehend it with their spirit; those in the middle understand it with their minds; those at the lowest level hear it only with their ears. When learning stops at the ears, it remains on the surface. When it reaches the mind, it penetrates the muscles. Only when it is grasped by the spirit does it sink into the marrow. If you do not hear deeply, your understanding will be unclear; if your understanding is unclear, you cannot fully grasp the Dao’s subtlety; and without a full grasp of it, it is difficult to succeed in practice.

“The way to hear the Dao is to keep the mind empty, still, and clear; not to let your Qi become agitated or excessive; and not to indulge in idle thoughts. Do not let your eyes wander or your ears take in whatever happens to reach them. Cherish your spirit, build up your inner cultivation, and keep your inner self full and focused. Once you have grasped the Dao, hold fast to it and persevere over time.

“The generation of the Dao has its roots and beginnings. All things start out weak and pliant, then gradually become strong; they begin small and few, then gradually grow numerous and great. A tree so large that ten people can encircle it began as a tiny sapling. A platform a hundred ren high began at ground level. This is the pattern of Heaven’s Dao. The sage follows this pattern: by staying low, the sage practices humility; by stepping back, the sage takes the lead; by living simply, the sage has enough; by diminishing, the sage becomes more complete. Humility can bring one to an honored position; yielding can bring one to the front; simplicity can bring abundance; diminishing can bring increase. These are all brought about by Heaven’s Dao.

“The Dao is the root of De (Virtue/Power), the foundation of the Great Way, and the gateway to good fortune. All things depend on the Dao to grow, come to completion, and find stability. The Dao is Wuwei (non-action) and formless. It can be cultivated within oneself and used to govern others. When achievements are accomplished and affairs established, one can accord with Heaven’s Dao. The Dao takes no action, yet nothing remains undone. Its state and true form are difficult to see, but it contains a trustworthy foundation.

“When the Son of Heaven follows the Dao, the world submits and the state endures. When a duke or marquis follows the Dao, the people live in harmony and the state is secure. When scholars and common people follow the Dao, they can protect themselves and their families. The strong who follow the Dao can win without fighting; the weak who follow it can obtain what they seek without contending. When affairs are conducted in accord with the Dao, achievements and good fortune follow. When ruler and ministers relate in accord with the Dao, they are loyal and care for one another. When fathers and sons relate in accord with it, fathers are loving and sons are filial. When scholars and common people relate in accord with it, they are friendly toward one another. Thus, with the Dao, one understands its principles; without the Dao, one becomes harsh. From this we can see that the Dao applies to every aspect of human life.

“Follow the Dao, and little practice brings a little good fortune; much practice brings great good fortune; follow it fully, and the world will submit. When the world submits, people will draw near and offer their support. The term ‘Emperor’ refers to one toward whom all under Heaven turn; the term ‘King’ refers to one to whom all under Heaven come and give their allegiance. If the people of the world do not turn to someone or give their allegiance, that person cannot be called Emperor or King. Therefore, without winning the people’s hearts, an Emperor or King cannot accomplish his work. Even if he wins their hearts, he cannot hold on to them for long if he loses the Dao.

“Those who lose the Dao are extravagant and unrestrained, arrogant and indolent, conceited and boastful. They cling to force, provoke disputes, and incur enmity, becoming the instigators of war and the source of disorder. When ordinary people act this way, they bring great disaster upon themselves; when those in power do so, they bring about the ruin of the state. The resulting calamity may fall lightly on the person alone, or, at its worst, extend to descendants. No transgression is greater than turning away from the Dao, and no resentment runs deeper than a lack of De. This is the pattern of Heaven’s Dao.”

Laozi says: Those who follow the Way of Heaven cannot be harmed by the thrust of even a fierce opponent, nor struck by the attack of even a highly skilled one. Yet to fend off a thrust or evade a blow may still bring humiliation. Better that an opponent, however fierce, should be unable to thrust, and that an opponent, however skilled, should be unable to attack. “Dare not” does not mean merely having no thought of harming others in one’s heart; better still is to be free of that thought at its source. Those who harbor no thought of harming others also have no selfish concern with gaining or suffering harm. Beyond this, all the men and women of the world should gladly wish to care for and help such a person. Even without land to govern or an official post to rely on, everyone in the world would want to keep that person safe and bring them benefit.

Therefore, the courage to press ahead recklessly often invites a fatal disaster; the courage to hold back and refrain from rash action can preserve one’s life.

Laozi says: Those who follow the Way of Heaven cannot be stabbed by even a fierce opponent, nor struck by even a highly skilled one. This does not mean they are attacked and happen by good fortune to escape unharmed; that would still bring humiliation. Better that an opponent, however fierce, should not dare to thrust, and that an opponent, however skilled, should not dare to attack.

“Dare not” does not mean that the thought of harming others remains in one’s heart but is simply left unacted upon. Better still is to be free of that thought at its source. Those who harbor no thought of harming others also have no selfish concern with gaining or suffering harm. Beyond this, all the men and women of the world should gladly wish to care for and help such a person. Even without land to govern, and without needing an official post to establish their standing, everyone in the world would want to keep them safe and bring them benefit.

Therefore, the courage to press ahead recklessly easily invites a fatal disaster; the courage to hold back and refrain from rash action can preserve one’s life.

Wenzi asked what “Virtue” (De) means. Laozi said, “To nourish all things, help them grow smoothly and grow ever stronger, and benefit every side without showing favoritism—when such conduct accords with Heaven and Earth, it is called Virtue.”

What is “benevolence”? Laozi said, “When in a high position, do not boast of your achievements; when in a low position, do not feel ashamed of your hardship. When strong, do not become complacent; when weak, do not act dishonorably. Care widely for others without selfishness, and sustain this care without letting it fade—this is called benevolence.”

What is “righteousness”? Laozi said, “When in a high position, support the weak; when in a low position, hold fast to your integrity. When successful, do not give yourself over to excess; when in hardship, do not change your principles. Always act according to what is right, and do not distort fairness out of self-interest—this is called righteousness.”

What is “ritual propriety”? Laozi said, “When in a high position, be respectful and solemn; when in a low position, be humble and deferential. Know how to yield, hold to gentleness, and willingly take the humble position of the female among all things under Heaven. Stand without presuming on yourself, and act without boasting of your abilities—this is called ritual propriety.”

Thus, when a ruler cultivates Virtue, those below will obey his commands; when he cultivates benevolence, they will not fight; when he cultivates righteousness, they will be fair and upright; and when he cultivates ritual propriety, they will respect him. When all four are cultivated, the state can be at peace. The Dao brings things into being; Virtue enables them to grow; benevolence brings them care; righteousness sets them right; and ritual propriety earns them respect. Without nourishment, things cannot grow; without loving-kindness, they cannot come to fruition; without correction, things cannot endure; and without respect and regard, people cannot feel valued.

Therefore, Virtue is what the people value, benevolence what they cherish, righteousness what they revere, and ritual propriety what they respect. These four are the principles by which things operate, and the foundations on which sages govern all things. If a gentleman lacks Virtue, those below will resent him; without benevolence, they will fight; without righteousness, they will act violently; and without ritual propriety, they will fall into disorder. If these four fundamental principles of governing a state cannot be established, this is called having no Dao. No state without the Dao has ever avoided destruction.

In an age of the highest De and clear governance, merchants could prosper in the marketplace, farmers took pleasure in working the fields, officials were content to fulfill their duties, reclusive scholars devoted themselves to cultivating the Dao, and ordinary people were glad in their own pursuits. Thus, wind and rain did not damage the myriad things, plants and trees did not wither before their time, and the Yellow River produced a chart while the Luo River produced a writing—signs of auspiciousness appearing in the ancient legends.

When the age fell into decline, taxes were levied without restraint, killing did not cease, those who offered remonstrance were punished, and the worthy and capable were put to death. Mountains then collapsed and rivers dried up; insects and beasts were in constant turmoil, and not even ordinary vegetables could grow in the fields. When the world is at peace, foolish people cannot upset it on their own; when the world is in disorder, even the capable cannot set it right by their own efforts. The sage lives in harmony and calm because they were born at the right time. The highest De and the Dao can be put into practice because the circumstances allow it. A person must first encounter a time suited to them before they can put their abilities to use; only when the right conditions are present can their talents shine. There must first be a suitable age, and only then can people emerge who are able to accomplish great things.

Wenzi asked what it meant to be a sage and what it meant to be wise. Laozi replied: “To understand upon hearing the principle is to be a sage; to understand upon seeing something with one’s own eyes is to be wise. Sages can often foresee the roots of fortune and misfortune before they arise, and choose a fitting course. The wise can often discern a situation when signs of fortune or misfortune have already appeared, and choose the right action. Sages understand the changes of good and ill fortune in the Way of Heaven, and so know where fortune and misfortune begin. The wise can see in advance the signs of things taking shape, and so know by what path fortune and misfortune will come. To hear and understand before something happens is sagacity; to foresee it once signs have appeared is wisdom. Those who have neither seen nor heard, and cannot make sound judgments, are foolish and confused.”

Laozi said: “If a ruler esteems ‘righteousness’ above all, they will act solely on their own convictions and judgments, believing themselves to possess wisdom and to bestow kindness. Yet the myriad things are numerous and circumstances complex, while an individual’s wisdom is limited. It will not do to meet complex affairs with shallow understanding. Relying only on one’s own cleverness inevitably leads to many mistakes. Esteeming clever schemes makes it easy to fall into calculation; esteeming martial courage makes it easy to head toward danger and ruin. If one is always intent on bestowing kindness, rewards will have no fixed measure. When those above set no consistent standard for rewards, those below will keep forming expectations. If levies are continually increased, the people will become resentful; if taxes are kept low while lavish gifts are given, the resources required will have no end. Thus, an eagerness to bestow kindness can also invite resentment. From this we can see that wealth alone is not enough to govern the world; one must follow the Dao and the methods of governing. This should be clear.”

Wenzi asked: “How did the kings of antiquity govern the world by means of the Dao?” Laozi replied: “…”

Wenzi asked, “When ancient rulers governed the world through the Dao, how should they have acted?”

Laozi said, “Grasp the root, follow nature, refrain from acting recklessly, and change along with the transformations of Heaven and Earth. The world is a great vessel: it cannot be forcibly controlled or arbitrarily manipulated. Reckless action leads to failure; insisting on control leads to loss. To ‘grasp the root’ means to attend to what is small and subtle. Only by valuing the small can one accomplish great things. To ‘refrain from acting recklessly’ means to remain still and quiet. Only by remaining still and quiet can one become a standard for the world.

“Occupying a prominent position, be full but not complacent; holding high status, do not become proud. If you are full but not complacent, you will not suffer loss. If you hold a high position without pride, you will not fall into danger. In this way, wealth and honor can be preserved over time, remain with you, and pass as blessings and prosperity to your descendants. This is the principle by which the rulers of antiquity governed their states.”

Laozi continued, “The people share certain principles and laws they follow, but moral principle alone cannot bind them firmly to one another, nor can authority ensure that they will obey. Therefore, a ruler must be established to unite them. When the ruler grasps the root, the state can be at peace; when it loses its enduring standard, the state falls into disorder.

“The ruler’s Dao lies not in acting recklessly, but in Wuwei (non-action). The wise do not use virtue as a tool for private gain; the brave do not rely on strength to bully and abuse others; the benevolent do not use their position to bestow favors in hopes of winning gratitude. Only then can one be said to have grasped the root of unity. This ‘One’ is the impartial Dao, and the root of all things.

“When a ruler repeatedly changes laws and decrees, the state repeatedly changes rulers. People use their positions to vent their likes and dislikes, while those below are plunged into endless worry and fear, making them difficult to govern. Thus, when a ruler loses the root, the disorder caused may be worse than having no ruler at all. A ruler must grasp the root in order to unite the people.”

Wenzi asked, “How many kinds of the kingly way are there?”

Laozi said, “There is only one.”

Wenzi says: In ancient times, some governed the world through the Dao, while others seized it through military force. Why did both succeed? Governing the world through the Dao embodies De; winning through armed force also involves De.

There are five kinds of military action: righteous armies, responsive armies, angry armies, greedy armies, and arrogant armies. An army that punishes tyranny and saves the weak is called a righteous army. When an enemy invades and one has no choice but to send troops, it is called a responsive army. When people take up arms over a minor matter, unable to restrain their anger, it is called an angry army. An army sent out to covet another state’s land and wealth is called a greedy army. An army sent out in reliance on a powerful state and its numerous people, to appear superior before an enemy state, is called an arrogant army.

A righteous army can establish a kingly enterprise; a responsive army can win. An army that acts recklessly will fail, a greedy army will bring death, and an arrogant army will meet destruction. These are the patterns of the Way of Heaven.

Laozi said: “If you abandon the Dao and act on personal cleverness, danger will follow. If you disregard the natural order and rely only on your abilities, you will fall into difficulty. So keep to your proper place and follow the ordinary patterns of things. Do not grieve when you lose something, or rejoice when you gain it. Success does not come from forcing things to happen, and gain does not come from pursuing rewards at all costs. When you receive, accept without grasping; when you give, offer without seeking repayment. Follow spring as it brings all things to life, and autumn as it brings them to decline. Do not claim credit for what you help to grow, or invite resentment for what you let fall away. In this way, you come close to the Dao.”

Wenzi asked: “How can a ruler win the people’s affection?”

Laozi replied: “He should be like the rivers and seas. They seem plain and tasteless, yet they serve for a long time; this brings them close to the Dao. Begin with what is small, and in time you can accomplish great things. If you wish to rise above others, speak with humility; if you wish to lead them, place yourself behind them in your actions. Then people throughout the world will follow his benevolence and honor his righteousness, without feeling harshly treated or oppressed. Though he holds a high position, the people will not feel burdened; though he walks before them, they will not feel harmed. People throughout the world will gladly choose him and will not grow weary of him. Even distant foreign lands with different customs, and even flying and crawling creatures, will draw near to him. Wherever he goes, he will find a way through; whatever he undertakes will go smoothly. That is why the world holds him in respect.”

Laozi said, “To cling rigidly to the laws and institutions of one age and reject customs passed down through generations is like fixing the bridges of a zither in place and then trying to play it: they cannot be adjusted to suit the melody. A sage responds flexibly to the times, observes the actual circumstances, and acts as is fitting. When the age changes, affairs change; when the times shift, customs change as well. Therefore, laws should be established in keeping with the age, and government affairs handled in step with the times.

The laws established by rulers in high antiquity differed from one another. This did not mean they were at odds; it was because the affairs and circumstances of their times were different. So one should not copy laws that have already taken shape, but learn the principles by which laws are made and adapt them as circumstances change. The laws established by the sages are worth consulting, but we cannot recover exactly why they made them as they did. Their words may be heeded, but the principles behind those words cannot be confined to fixed forms. The Three Sovereigns and Five Emperors held the power of ruling the world lightly and did not cling to gains or losses among the myriad things. They regarded life and death as one and responded to change. Holding fast to the Dao, they treated others with sincerity, like mirrors that reflect things as they truly are. Above, they aligned themselves with the Dao; below, they adapted to change as they governed worldly affairs. Today, anyone who wishes to learn their Dao but lacks a clear mind, and merely clings to the laws left by the ancient sages and carries out old regulations, will never be able to govern a state well on that basis.”

Wenzi asked Laozi about the way to govern a state. Laozi said, “Let the Dao guide the conduct of government, and let De (Virtue) nurture the people. Do not make a show of your own worthiness, and do not oppress the people with force. Curb selfish desires and hold to the root. Do not turn any place into an opportunity for profit, and do not display things that stir up desire. Be upright without harming others, and honest without being harsh. Do not boast or claim credit. When the state is governed by the Dao, the people will gather around it; when the people are nurtured by De, they will follow willingly. When worthiness is not put on display, the people will be content; when force is not imposed, the people will remain simple and unspoiled.

Worthiness is not displayed because frugality is valued; force is not imposed because one dares not act recklessly. Rulers should bring the people together and give them a place to turn, and they should share what they have with them. They should live frugally to preserve their own body and mind, and not presume to settle into ease. If the people are not kept simple, they will scatter; if they are not nurtured, they will turn away. If worthiness is displayed, they will compete; if force is imposed, they will resent it. When the people scatter, the state’s power will decline; when they turn away, the ruler will lose authority; when they compete, they are more likely to act improperly; when those below resent those above, the ruler’s position will be in danger. If these four things are put into practice, one comes close to the right way.”

Laozi said, “What those in higher positions say is meant to be followed by those below; what those below say is offered for those above to consider. Words that express enduring principles can be followed over time, while expedient words must adapt to the circumstances. Only a sage knows how to respond flexibly. To keep one’s word and fulfill one’s agreements are regarded as noble conduct throughout the world. Yet some people, in the name of upholding integrity, have reported their own fathers; others, in the name of keeping faith, have killed their own daughters. What is there to praise in such actions?

“So the sage judges what is right and wrong by adapting to circumstances, yielding or standing firm as needed, rather than clinging to fixed rules. For example, a ritual officiant calls the ruler ‘honored,’ but in a drowning emergency one grabs one’s father to save him. That is what the situation requires. ‘Expediency’ means the sage’s distinctive insight and ability to respond flexibly. When something first appears to go against ordinary principles but later proves consistent with reason, that is understanding expediency. When something first appears reasonable but later turns out to violate reason, that is failing to understand expediency. Those who fail to understand it can turn what was right into something wrong.”

Wenzi asked, “Teacher, you have said that governing the world cannot be separated from the Dao and De. The ancient kings inherited the work of their predecessors, and there were also those who, despite not speaking of Dao and De, possessed exceptional insight. You say that when something first goes against ordinary principles but later proves consistent with reason, this is expediency; when it first seems consistent but later proves contrary to reason, this is failing to understand expediency. Those who fail to understand it can turn what was right into something wrong.”

Wenzi asked, “Master, you often say that without De, the world cannot be governed. Yet some ancient kings inherited their forebears’ rule without practicing De, and still lived out their lives in peace, without calamity or ruin. Why was that?”

Laozi replied, “From the Son of Heaven down to the common people, everyone must live, but their circumstances differ. Countries fall and families are ruined because De is lacking. If people work diligently day and night, dare not grow complacent, remain vigilant, and are always concerned about falling into danger and ruin, the state can remain secure. If they indulge their desires and grow lazy and negligent, destruction may come at any moment. If Jie of Xia and Zhou of Shang had followed the Way and governed with De, then even if Tang of Shang and King Wu of Zhou had been wise and worthy, they would have had no chance to establish the merit of overthrowing them.

“De enables people to nourish and care for one another, support one another, draw close to one another, love one another, and show one another respect. Even foolish animals do not harm those they love. If all the people in the world were filled with benevolence, where could calamity arise?

“Some rulers who fail to practice De do not suffer calamity right away because benevolence has not yet been extinguished and righteousness has not yet vanished. But as long as benevolence and righteousness remain, the feudal lords will look down on their ruler. When they do, the court will lose its reverence, and commands will go unheeded. Once benevolence is extinguished and righteousness has vanished, the feudal lords will rebel; people will fight with weapons; the strong will oppress the weak; great states will seize small ones; and the people will make a living by attacking one another. Calamity will appear, disorder will follow, and the state will be close to ruin. How can anyone expect it to remain free of trouble forever?”

Laozi also said, “When the court loses its reverence and commands go unheeded, benevolence is extinguished and righteousness vanishes. The feudal lords rebel, people fight with weapons, the strong oppress the weak, great states seize small ones, and the people make a living by attacking one another. Calamity and disorder arise, and the state soon falls. How can anyone expect it to remain free of trouble?”

Laozi said, “When laws and decrees are numerous and punishments severe, the people become deceitful. When those above make governance complicated, those below devise many ways to evade demands and put on a show of compliance. The more one seeks, the less one actually gains; the more prohibitions there are, the more people break them. To set one thing in motion and then try to stop it by setting another in motion is like fanning a flame and hoping it will not burn. To use cunning schemes to create trouble and then use schemes to guard against it is like stirring the water and hoping to make it clear.”

Laozi says: If a ruler favors benevolence, he will reward those who have done nothing to earn it and pardon those who are guilty. If he favors harsh punishment, he will overlook the achievements of the deserving and punish the innocent. If the ruler neither favors nor resents anyone, he can punish people according to the law without provoking resentment, and grant favors without claiming the credit as his own virtue. He acts by a standard, as a carpenter uses a straightedge to make things true, without mixing in personal intentions. In this way, he is like Heaven and Earth, able to shelter and sustain all things. Bringing people into harmony is the ruler’s responsibility; determining guilt and imposing punishment according to law are the work of the legal code. When the people do not resent their punishment, this is called “Dao and De.”

Laozi says: Right and wrong in the world have no fixed standard. People each regard what they like as good and what they dislike as bad. In seeking what is called “right,” people are not seeking principle; they are looking for what accords with their own wishes. They reject what is called “deviant” not necessarily because it is evil, but simply because it goes against their own ideas. Now, if I try to choose one kind of “rightness” to follow, I worry that I will fall into rigid dogmatism. This is what is called “Dao and De.”

Laozi says: Right and wrong in the world have no fixed standard. People each regard what they like as good and what they dislike as bad. In seeking what is called “right,” people are not seeking principle; they are looking for what accords with their own wishes. They reject what is called “deviant” simply because it does not suit them. If I now try to choose what is “right” to follow and discard what is “wrong,” I may not know what people mean when they speak of right and wrong. That is why it is said: “Governing a large state is like cooking a small fish.” It means one should not keep turning it over and disturbing it.

If you constantly cater to others and say what pleases them, they will grow closer to you. If you are distant from them, even sound plans may arouse their suspicions. Now, if I try to put myself in order and calmly face the things around me, how could I know what standard people will use to judge me? If I rush about following the common ways of the world, it is like trying to escape the rain: wherever I take shelter, I am bound to get wet. If a person deliberately pursues emptiness and stillness, they cannot attain true emptiness and stillness. If they do not deliberately seek emptiness, it will come naturally, and nothing they seek will be beyond their reach.

One who understands the Great Dao is like an axle: the axle itself does not turn, yet it sets the wheel hub in motion, carrying the cart a thousand miles and onward along an endless road. Thus the sage follows the Great Dao and returns to the source, meeting change with constancy. Though the sage acts, there is no intention to force results through deliberate action.

Laozi says that one who understands the Great Dao is like an axle: the axle itself does not turn, yet it sets the wheel hub in motion, carrying the cart a thousand miles and onward along an endless road. Thus the sage follows the Great Dao and returns to the source, meeting change with constancy. Though the sage acts, there is no intention to force results through deliberate action.

Laozi said, “If a country wages war frequently and wins again and again, it will perish. Frequent warfare exhausts the people, and too many victories make the ruler arrogant. Few countries can escape ruin when an arrogant ruler drives an exhausted people. Arrogance leads the ruler to indulge himself; indulgence pushes things to extremes. Exhaustion breeds resentment among the people; as resentment builds, deep anxiety follows. When both ruler and ministers, from top to bottom, have reached extremes, the country has never failed to perish. Thus it is said: ‘When your work is accomplished, withdraw from the scene. This is the Way of Heaven.’”

King Ping asked Wenzi, “I have heard that you received the Dao from Lao Dan. Today, even if a sage understands the Dao, he may live in a corrupt age. Can one person alone hope to transform a people long mired in disorder?”

Wenzi replied, “The function of Dao and De is to set a declining situation right and restore it to the proper path, to quell disorder and bring stability, and to reform licentious and corrupt customs so that people return to simplicity. When genuine De grows again, the world can be at peace. The key lies with the ruler alone. The ruler is the people’s teacher, and those above serve as models for those below. When those above act well, those below will follow their example. When those above possess De, those below will practice benevolence and righteousness. When those below practice benevolence and righteousness, a corrupt age will not arise. The ruler is the people’s teacher…”