《通玄真经[注](朱弁)》Vol. 4

Is this not going too far? What does it matter if the people are deceived?

There is no greater benevolence than caring for others, and no greater wisdom than understanding them. When people care for others, punishments do not provoke resentment; when they understand others, affairs of government do not fall into disorder.

Treat others with the same care as yourself, and punishments will not be abused. Understand others sincerely, and affairs of government will not fall into disorder.

Laozi said: However great the rivers, their floods do not last more than three days. Even violent winds and downpours do not last long; by noon they have ceased.

This means that when someone exercises tyrannical rule, it cannot last long. They will soon perish, just as a violent storm rages fiercely but soon subsides.

If one fails to cultivate De (virtue) and feels no concern, ruin is close at hand. Worry can bring prosperity, while ease and complacency lead to decline. Thus, those skilled in conducting themselves can turn weakness into strength and transform calamity into good fortune. The Dao (the Way) seems empty, yet in use it is never exhausted.

The foolish remain stubbornly unenlightened, treating worry as a cause for rejoicing; their ruin will soon follow. Worry can bring prosperity, while ease and complacency lead to decline. Thus, those skilled in conducting themselves can turn weakness into strength and transform calamity into good fortune. The Dao seems empty, yet in use it is never exhausted.

The foolish remain stubbornly unenlightened, treating worry as a cause for rejoicing, and ruin will soon follow. The wise hold fast to the Dao and preserve their natural simplicity; they can transform calamity into good fortune and ultimately prosper.

Laozi said: Stillness, ease, and peace are part of human nature; bearing and conduct, along with rules and standards, are principles for handling affairs. Understand human nature, and you can cultivate yourself without going against it. Understand the principles for conducting affairs, and your actions will not fall into disorder.

Ease and peace are the foundation for following one’s nature; rules and standards are used to restrain excessive desires. If you are driven by the desire for gain, then even if you appear calm, your heart and actions will often stray from the right path. If you understand the rules, then even when you act, you will not lose your sense of measure.

To issue a command that puts an end to contention in people’s hearts, and to bring a multitude of tangled affairs under a single order—this is called “the heart.” To see the root and thereby infer the details, and to hold fast to fundamental principles in order to deal with all things—this is called “method.”

Commands are issued to put an end to contention in people’s hearts. When people’s hearts are free of contention, affairs can be brought back to their roots and the transformations of all things can accord with the Dao. This is the way to handle affairs.

In stillness, know what should be done; in action, know where you are headed; in conducting affairs, know what to rely on; and in acting, know when to stop. This is called the Dao.

The perfected person, whose moral cultivation has reached a high level, can act or withdraw in accord with the right moment and can discern in advance what will bring good or ill fortune. If one cannot do these things, on what grounds can one be called a person of the Dao?

A person is respected and praised by others because of their inner strength; if they are despised and slandered, it is because they have done something wrong. Once words leave the mouth, there is no stopping others from spreading them. What begins nearby may have effects far away.

If this is not so, how could one be said to understand the Dao?

A person is respected and praised because of their inner strength; if they are despised and slandered, it is because they have done something wrong. Once words are spoken, there is no stopping others from spreading them. What begins nearby may have effects far away.

Good and evil depend on oneself, while slander and praise are spread by others. When people talk and talk, no one can stop them. A single failing in one’s conduct may have repercussions far away.

Things are often difficult to bring to success but easy to ruin; a reputation is difficult to establish but easy to destroy. People often make light of small misfortunes and treat minor matters as unimportant, until in the end they give rise to great calamity. Calamity comes because people bring it upon themselves; good fortune comes because people make it for themselves. Calamity and good fortune spring from the same source, and benefit and harm often accompany one another. Without an exceptionally discerning mind, it is difficult to tell them apart. Thus, deliberation is the gateway through which calamity and good fortune arise, while action and stillness are the pivots on which benefit and harm turn. These things must be observed with care.

The Perfected Person—one whose virtue and wisdom have reached the highest level—always plans thoroughly, so as to reason from the beginning to the end. The rise of reputation and profit is precisely where calamity and good fortune begin to take shape. Therefore, block the source of the pursuit of fame and profit, and close the paths through which calamity and good fortune take root. This is how the wise plan their actions first and foresee their consequences. In this way, deliberation can be clear and far-reaching, and action and stillness will not depart from their proper measure.

Laozi said: Everyone knows the principles behind change from order to disorder and back again, yet they do not know how to preserve their lives. Thus, the sages observe the state of the world and decide what should be done; they assess circumstances and devise ways to respond. They can dwell in Yin or in Yang, be yielding or firm, weak or strong. They decide whether to act or remain still according to the times, and establish their achievements in keeping with their own circumstances. When they see something reach one extreme, they know it will turn toward the other; when faced with a matter, they can also discern the changes within it. As things change, they act in response to the circumstances as they emerge; as the times move forward, they respond accordingly. Thus, throughout their lives, they act without falling into difficulty.

Everyone can grasp the principles behind change from order to disorder and back again, yet not everyone can preserve themselves amid such changes. The sages assess the state of the world and the circumstances at hand, adapt as events unfold, and act in keeping with the time. Thus, they remain free of hardship and disgrace throughout their lives.

Some matters may be discussed openly yet are unsuitable to put into practice; some may be carried out yet are awkward to speak of; some seem easy to accomplish yet are hard to bring to success; and some are difficult to achieve yet easily lead to failure. Therefore the sage weighs affairs according to the conditions of the world, adapts to circumstances, and waits for the right moment before acting, so that throughout their life they are never subjected to humiliation.

Among these, what may be done but should not be spoken of concerns advancing and withdrawing, taking and giving up. What may be spoken of but cannot be carried out is falsehood and deception. What seems easy to do but is in fact hard to accomplish is concrete affairs. What is difficult to achieve yet easily leads to failure is reputation. These four kinds of matters are those the sage pays especially close attention to, and only the wise can see through them.

Only the perceptive and the wise can, on their own, examine the circumstances of advancing, withdrawing, acting, and stopping, and clarify the causes of success and failure.

Laozi said: In following the Dao (the Way), one must attend to subtle details, and in action one must not miss the opportune moment. Even when shooting a hundred arrows, one must remain repeatedly cautious and on guard, so that calamity does not take root and grow. When planning for good fortune, do not expect too much; when considering misfortune, think thoroughly. Likewise, when frost comes, those who have shelter are not harmed. A foolish person who takes precautions in advance can also escape harm, just as the wise do.

One of virtue who does not deliberate may seem like a fool, and a fool who takes precautions may become a worthy person.

Affection accumulated day by day brings good fortune, while resentment accumulated day by day invites calamity. Everyone knows to seek remedies once disaster has struck, yet few understand how to keep disaster from arising at all. Preventing calamity is easy; remedying it after it has occurred is difficult. Now people do not strive to guard against misfortune before it appears, but busy themselves only with repairing the damage afterward. Even a spirit being would find it hard to devise a plan for them.

The sources of calamity are endlessly varied. The sage withdraws from public view to avoid harm and remains quiet and sparing of words while awaiting the right moment. The petty person, not understanding where good and bad fortune come from, acts rashly and falls into punishment. Even when they guard against every point, it is not enough to keep themselves whole. Therefore the discerning first avoid calamity and then seek benefit, and first distance themselves from humiliation and then pursue a good name. The sage always responds before matters become manifest and does not fix their attention only on what has already happened. For this reason calamity cannot reach them, and praise and blame cannot stain them.

People fall into conflicts over gain and loss because love and hatred arise in their hearts. If love and hatred do not arise, where would slander and praise come from? The junzi (exemplary person) deals with matters before any signs of them appear, and does not leave his thoughts to dwell on things once they have already taken shape. For this reason, calamity never arises, and neither praise nor criticism can disturb his mind.

People fall into conflicts over gain and loss because love and hatred arise in their hearts. If love and hatred do not arise, where would slander and praise come from? The junzi manages matters before they show any signs. The petty person, by contrast, arranges every possible response and yet still brings calamity upon himself. Once matters have become visible and he tries to remedy them, the situation has already taken shape and is hard to escape.

Laozi said that a person should have a meticulous mind, lofty aspirations, a harmonious wisdom, upright conduct, broad ability, and a simple way of handling affairs. "Meticulous mind" means considering things in advance, before calamity has occurred, carefully guarding against subtle dangers, and not indulging one's desires. "Lofty aspirations" means holding the whole world in one's heart and being able to embrace the diverse customs of different regions. When many differing opinions on right and wrong converge, one stands at the center to harmonize them, like the hub at the center of a wheel. "Harmonious wisdom" means seeing things through from beginning to end without being confined to a single perspective, with knowledge that is wide and far-reaching, inexhaustible like a deep spring. "Upright conduct" means standing straight and not bending, keeping purity of character without being stained; one does not change one's principles in hardship and does not indulge one's will in prosperity. "Broad ability" means being accomplished in both civil and military arts, with both action and stillness conforming to proper standards, and handling both the doing and the ceasing of tasks appropriately. "Simple handling of affairs" means grasping the essentials in dealing with complicated matters, mastering concise methods to govern vast affairs, and using quiet constancy to regulate restlessness.

Therefore, one whose mind is meticulous can prevent calamity in its subtlest beginnings; one whose aspirations are lofty has a broad heart; one whose wisdom is harmonious has insight that reaches everywhere; one whose conduct is upright knows what not to do; one of broad ability can manage every kind of affair well; and one who handles affairs simply can hold to the essentials.

Qualities such as these are difficult to possess together unless one is a supremely sage and perfected person (zhisheng gaozhen), a supreme sage or realized immortal.

The sage treats good deeds with diligence, however small they may be, and corrects any fault, however minor. He has no need to rely on shamans (wuxi, those who act through communication with spirits, divination, and similar means), and ghosts and spirits dare not take the lead in causing harm. It may be said that he has reached a supremely high state. Yet he remains cautious and wary, growing more careful with each passing day. For this reason, though he appears to exert no forced effort, he accomplishes much.

Being free of debts to others outwardly and having a clear conscience inwardly, what need is there to depend on shamans, and why should one fear ghosts and spirits? Only one who holds reverence and cautious self-examination in the heart can preserve integrity from beginning to end.

Fools have limited wisdom yet try to do many things, so whenever they act, they easily fall into difficulty. Teaching people by the right way makes matters simple and certain to succeed; teaching people by the wrong way makes them difficult and ultimately certain to fail. To abandon the easy success of the right way and insist on doing what is difficult and doomed to fail is the result of folly and delusion.

Without weighing gains and losses, one will sit and wait for ruin and peril to arrive. When affairs are complicated, they are hard to govern; even when one exhausts one's strength, one may still fail. When affairs are simple and easy to carry out, they will surely succeed; yet one stubbornly refuses to do them and instead chooses the difficult path, which ultimately must fail. This is the result of folly and delusion.

Without weighing gains and losses, one will sit and wait for ruin and peril to arrive. When affairs are complicated, they are hard to govern; even when one exhausts one's strength, one may still fail. When affairs are simple and easy to carry out, yet one refuses to act even though success is within reach, this is folly carried to its extreme.

Laozi said: The sprouting of good fortune is subtle, while the arising of calamity is tangled and hard to foresee. The signs of fortune and misfortune are subtle and hidden, difficult to perceive. The sage can see the beginnings and ends of fortune and misfortune, and therefore cannot but observe carefully.

Good fortune is as light as a goose feather, yet the sage alone perceives it; calamity is as heavy as a great mountain, yet the fool cannot see it.

The wise ruler applies rewards and punishments not for his own sake but for the sake of the state. If an affair accords with his own wishes but brings no merit to the state, he does not reward it; if an affair runs contrary to his wishes but benefits the state, he does not punish it.

The wise ruler's rewards and punishments take fairness as their standard. What benefits the state and the people is carried out; what benefits only oneself and does no good for the people is stopped.

Therefore, conduct that accords with righteousness and propriety is called that of a gentleman (junzi); conduct that discards righteousness and propriety is called that of a petty person (xiaoren).

Do gentlemen and petty people have fixed identities? One who conducts oneself and acts appropriately is a gentleman; one whose actions and dealings violate due measure is a petty person.

Those who are penetrating in wisdom and gain something without toil,

the highest-rank scholars can free themselves from bonds.

Called a gentleman; discarding righteousness and propriety, one is called a petty person.

Do gentlemen and petty people have fixed identities? One who conducts oneself and acts appropriately is a gentleman; one whose actions and dealings violate due measure is a petty person.

Those who are penetrating in wisdom and gain something without toil,

the highest-rank scholars can free themselves from bonds.

Next-tier people labor but do not grow exhausted and ill;

those of the middle rank strive diligently and do not grow slack.

The lowest-rank people are worn down by exhaustion and illness, yet still cannot rest.

Lower-rank scholars have dull minds and confused spirits, so the more they toil, the more ill they become.

The ancients comprehended the Great Dao (dào, the Way) but did not claim it as their own; people today, even when they abandon the Dao, feel no regret. To "not claim it as one's own" means not treating the Dao as private possession. To "comprehend" it means to grasp its meaning. The ancients knew the Dao without presuming to possess it, while people today lack the Dao and yet boast of it.

King Zhou of Shang made ivory chopsticks, and Jizi grew anxious over them, for he saw in them the first signs of extravagance. The state of Lu buried wooden figurines with its dead. These figurines were carved human forms, grave goods meant for burial. Confucius sighed because the practice did not accord with ritual propriety (lǐ).

From the first signs of a matter, one can infer what it will ultimately become. The petty person, seeing ivory chopsticks and figurines buried with the dead, concludes that in life one enjoys splendor and in death one receives a grand display. The gentleman, however, sees that the moral atmosphere is already declining and that virtue will soon perish.

Laozi said: "Benevolence (rén) is what people admire, and righteousness (yì) is what people esteem. Yet those who are admired and esteemed may still meet death and see their states perish, because they are out of step with their times. Therefore, one who knows only how to keep to righteousness, without understanding the changes of the world and the expedient way (quán), does not comprehend the Dao."

To extol only the noble customs of benevolence and righteousness, without understanding timeliness and adaptive expedience, and so being unable to avert ruin, how can this count as understanding affairs and penetrating the workings of the world?

The Five Emperors valued governance through De (Virtue/Power) and ruled the realm through non-action (wúwéi). The Three Kings of Xia, Shang, and Zhou employed principled righteousness, punishing tyranny and settling the people. The Five Hegemons of the Spring and Autumn period relied on force, that is, on cunning and military might.

If the methods of governance suited to the age of the emperors were applied in the age of the Five Hegemons, they would be out of step with the times. Thus, the good governance of each age differs, and right and wrong, along with reputation, depend on prevailing worldly opinion. The direction of an action may be the same, yet whether one complies or opposes depends on the circumstances at hand.

This means that since the times differ, methods of governance must change with them. To copy the ancient way of governing in the age of the Five Hegemons is like fixing the bridge of a zither to tune its strings, or like quenching thirst with poisoned wine. It simply cannot work.

One who understands how the Way of Heaven operates and how humans ought to act can govern the affairs of the world. "Jīng" (classic) means to govern and to keep things in their constant course.

Knowing the Way without knowing human nature leaves one unable to deal with ordinary people; knowing human nature without knowing the Way leaves one unable to roam with the Dao (Dao, the Way). One who understands Heavenly Dao (tiandao) can act effectively in the world, and the jing (scripture, classic) is precisely the constant Way and the constant principle. One who understands both Heavenly Dao and human feeling, who grasps the conditions of the world and the shifts of the times, is able both to govern affairs and to roam with the Dao.

If one attends only to fulfilling one's own wishes and gratifying one's own temperament, one will be harmed by the unyielding. If one wearies the body in pursuit of external things, one will suffer the depletion caused by the transformations of yin and yang (yinyang). To follow one's own inclinations may go against the inclinations of others, thereby offending the forceful; to chase external things single-mindedly exhausts the body, like ice and charcoal in conflict. Here, "yin and yang" refers to agitation and stillness.

The person who has attained the Dao responds outwardly to the changes of things, yet within remains unchanged. Outward change allows them to understand human feeling; inward constancy allows them to preserve themselves. Thus they hold firmly to their integrity within, while outwardly they can bend or extend, shifting along with circumstances, so that whatever they undertake, they never fall into straits. What makes the Dao so precious is that it can transform without limit, like a dragon.

The person who has attained the Dao moves like Heaven in its circuit and rests like Earth in its stability. They respond to the moment, acting or remaining still as the occasion requires, and they control their advance and retreat, contraction and extension, for themselves. Therefore they are not harmed by the mundane world, nor bound by its affairs. When Confucius (Kongzi, styled Zhongni, called "Father Ni" in the text) met Laozi, he is said to have sighed that Laozi was perhaps like a dragon: his transformations were unfathomable and could not be measured by ordinary sentiment.

If one clings to a single principle or pursues a single method, then even after achieving some accomplishment one will refuse to change, becoming confined to narrow advantage and blocking the road to the Great Dao. Once confined to a corner, how could one speak of the Great Dao at all?

The Dao is still and empty; it does not deliberately rely on action to govern external things, nor does it deliberately let external things govern it. The distinction between self and things dissolves naturally, and within this stillness and emptiness the subtle wonder of the Dao manifests of its own accord.

Therefore, when one's conduct accords with the Dao, it is not that one performs some deliberate act of "conforming to the Dao," but that the Dao operates spontaneously through one.

The Way's essential nature is wuwei (non-action, following what is natural without deliberate contrivance). Now, to speak of "following the Way" already carries the sense of intentionally doing something. Once one acts with intention, affairs arise, and with them may come worry and distress. The Way has no fixed form, and affairs do not remain smooth forever. Acting deliberately often runs counter to the natural tendency of things, and this is how the Way operates.

The essential nature of the Way is non-action. To speak now of "following the Way" already implies deliberate action. Deliberate action gives rise to events, and once events arise, worry may follow. The Way has no fixed form, and affairs do not remain smooth forever. If one acts deliberately, contentious debates and disputes of right and wrong will arise, and disorder will follow from them. Therefore it is said that this is not the kind of action the Way advocates. "Shi" (setting out, arranging) means establishing and organizing. Here it means that setting up separate regulations and rules outside the Way amounts only to the outward ritual and appearance of the Way, not its true nature, and one should not cling to them. Clinging leads to loss, and deliberate contrivance easily leads to failure. The principle is clear.

All that the heavens cover and the earth bears, the places illuminated by the sun and moon, the things nourished by yin and yang, the myriad creatures moistened by dew and rain, and everything supported by De (Virtue) all ultimately rest on the single word "he" (harmony). Therefore, one who can hold up the vast heavens above the head and tread the square earth beneath the feet,

Note: This refers to a person with head beneath the sky and feet upon the earth.

who can reflect a clear and bright realm and look upon the light,

Note: This refers to seeing the sun and the moon.

who can establish great peace and dwell at ease in a broad hall,

Note: This refers to being situated between heaven and earth within the cosmos.

and one who can roam in the profound and mysterious realm will be as bright as the sun and the moon. Though such a person has no visible form, he can live within the world of forms. Therefore the zhenren (true person, one who has attained the Way) entrusts the mind-spirit to the lingtai (the place where the mind-spirit resides) and returns to the original state of life.

Note: That is, returning to the state before birth, when one had not yet taken on a physical form.

One can see in darkness and hear in silence. In the darkness, he alone perceives; in stillness, he alone illuminates.

This means that the zhenren, though situated between heaven and earth, can return to the state he was in before birth.

One can see in darkness and hear in silence. In the darkness, he alone perceives; in stillness, he alone illuminates.

This means that the zhenren, situated between heaven and earth, can see the light of the sun and moon and roam in the realm of great peace, and therefore is at ease wherever he goes. Dwelling between heaven and earth, he contains all things. In the depths of the profound and mysterious, he hears what is soundless, and the myriad sounds all return to stillness. He illuminates what has no form, and so all forms become manifest. Thus he preserves long life together with heaven and earth, shines as brightly as the sun and moon, entrusts his mind-spirit to the lingtai, and holds within him the most refined jingqi (vital essence). Such a person is called a zhenren.

In employing things, one should act as though not employing them; only by not clinging to their use can one truly make use of them. In seeking knowledge, one must recognize that there are still things one does not know; only by acknowledging one's ignorance can one continue to gain true understanding.

This has been explained above.

Dao (the Way) is the path that all things follow; De (Virtue or Power) is the force that supports the growth of life; ren (benevolence) is the quality that appears once kindness has accumulated; and yi (righteousness) is the standard that follows one's inner heart, accords with others, and remains fitting. These four are used in dealing with the world and cultivating oneself, and none of them can be dispensed with.

When the Great Dao declines, De arises; when De declines, ren and yi come into being. Thus, in the high antiquity, people revered the Dao without особенно speaking of De; in the middle antiquity, people upheld De but did not know how to treasure it; in later ages, people were anxious and uneasy, fearing only the loss of ren and yi. The gentleman cannot establish himself without yi, and to lose yi is to lose the very foundation on which he stands; the petty person cannot live without profit, and to lose profit is to lose what he depends on for his livelihood. Therefore, the gentleman fears losing yi, and the petty person fears losing profit. Observe what each fears to lose, and the misfortune and fortune they bring upon themselves will differ.

When the Dao is lost and De declines, the seven emotions (qiqing) are also cut off, and the principles of righteousness grow ever thinner. If the gentleman has no yi, he cannot preserve his own Dao; if the petty person has no profit, he cannot sustain himself. The gentleman regards the loss of yi as a calamity, while the petty person regards the gain of profit as good fortune.

Laozi says: some people wish to benefit themselves and instead harm themselves; others seek to harm themselves and instead benefit. One who suffers from dampness forces himself to eat warming foods; one who is thirsty forces himself to drink cold liquids. What ordinary people regard as methods of nourishing life, the good physician sees as aggravating the illness. Things that please the eyes and gladden the heart are judged beneficial by fools, yet those who possess the Dao avoid them. The sage first holds fast to the root principle and thereafter naturally accords with external things; the multitude first accommodates external things and only afterward seeks to secure their own peace. Therefore, how fortune and misfortune, benefit and harm transform into one another must be carefully discerned.

When one is thirsty and drinks water, the good physician may still judge that it could bring calamity; when the poor obtain wealth by unrighteous means, the gentleman considers this a source of harm. To oppose the proper Way first and only afterward seek accord with the Dao is an error fools readily commit; to accord with the Way first, and afterward appear out of step with the world, is precisely the reverse path walked by the sage. On this point, one must not fail to examine carefully.

When a person is suffering from thirst, giving him water to drink would, in the view of a good physician, bring calamity rather than relief. When the poor take wealth by improper means, the gentleman regards this as harmful. To defy first and then return to accord is a mistake that foolish people often make; to accord first and then defy is what the sage detests. Benefit and harm are opposed to each other, and misfortune and fortune can also turn into one another, so one must examine them carefully.

Laozi says: when one has achieved merit yet turns away from benevolence and righteousness (renyi, the standards by which one's dealings with others accord with moral principle), one will incur suspicion; when one has committed faults yet still holds to benevolence and righteousness, one will readily earn trust. Therefore, benevolence and righteousness are the standards that conduct should ordinarily follow, and they are also the most honored rank under heaven.

This means that even after merit and reputation have been established, the seven moral principles, including benevolence and righteousness, must not be abandoned. To abandon them brings blame in their wake; only by following them is one worthy of noble rank and emolument.

Even when one's planning is apt and one's calculations are thorough, enabling one to remove calamity and preserve the state, if one's conduct departs from benevolence and righteousness, the achievement will ultimately not be realized. Conversely, even when one's words do not suit the strategy and one's stratagems do not benefit the state, so long as one's intention is loyal to the ruler and accords with benevolence and righteousness, one will ultimately preserve oneself. Thus it is said that countless words and plans are often unsuitable, and it is better to set aside the pursuit of clever schemes and prudently follow benevolence and righteousness.

A minister who devises solutions to perilous state affairs, yet treats the ruler with arrogance and elevates himself, will ultimately fail to achieve his merit, because he has departed from benevolence and righteousness. There are also those whose good counsel goes unadopted and whose extraordinary plans cannot be carried out. Yet such a person still supports the ruler and exhausts his strength; even when his efforts go unnoticed, he holds firmly to benevolence and righteousness and does not dare to forget them for a moment, and so he himself does not suffer calamity.

Laozi says: the root of transformation lies in the gentleman, and even the small man receives its grace; the root of benefit lies in the small man, and even the gentleman enjoys the fruits it yields. When gentlemen and small men each occupy their proper place, exchanging the fruits of their labor and sharing in mutual provision, the way of governance will be unobstructed.

When grace reaches the common people and stipends and benefits are offered up to those in high positions, society will settle itself even without officials to manage it. Without issuing commands, people will each act and abide in their proper place. This is how the Dao (the Way, dào) comes to prevail.

When people's desires are excessive, they injure righteousness; when their worries are heavy, they impair wisdom.

As desire grows, righteousness is harmed; as worry accumulates, wisdom grows dim.

Therefore, in governing a state, one should take peace and contentment as the aim, for only this allows the state to endure for a long time.

To hold fast to the way of governance is precisely this meaning.

A state that indulges in cruelty and takes pleasure in it will, in the end, perish.

This is because it allows the ruler to give free rein to his private desires.

Water flows downward, and only by doing so does it gather into a broad expanse. A ruler sits above his ministers, yet he must be skilled at listening to their counsel. When the ruler does not contend with his ministers for power, the principles of governance can take effect. Thus the ruler is like the root of a tree, and the ministers are like its branches and leaves. Never has there been a case in which the root fails to thrive yet the branches and leaves flourish.

The sage governs the state by observing widely and listening to many opinions, by casting out the wicked and crooked, and by appointing the worthy and capable. In this way the ruler can sit at ease in Wuwei (non-action), and affairs of state will naturally return to their proper course, while the ministers devote themselves fully to their duties. How could there be any reason for ruler and minister to struggle against one another? It is like a root that grows ever firmer, whose branches and leaves flourish accordingly.

Laozi says: a loving father cherishes his son not in order to be repaid; this affection is kept in the heart and cannot be dissolved. The enlightened ruler nurtures the common people not so that they will serve his purposes, but out of natural disposition, spontaneously and without compulsion. If a ruler relies on his own strength and merit and everywhere demands a return, then his kindness cannot reach the people.

Does a father cherish his son, or a ruler nurture the people, in order to obtain repayment? It is the natural duty and the Way of Heaven (Tiandao). If a ruler or a father relies on his own merit and strength and becomes arrogant toward his ministers or children, then kindness cannot pass between them.

Therefore, when a ruler employs what the multitude treasures, he can obtain the strength of the multitude; when he carries out what the multitude delights in, he can win the hearts of the multitude. Thus, by observing the beginning of an affair, one can know how it will end.

If a ruler universally cherishes all under Heaven, then though the realm is vast, all its people are like one family. If he does not cherish them, then even the humblest commoners will become enemies from every quarter. From this we see that the outcome of affairs can be foreseen, and the survival or fall of a state can be judged.

Laozi says: people draw close through benevolence and righteousness, and groups grow strong through unity. Therefore, the wider that virtue (De) is bestowed, the farther its prestige and influence reach; the less benevolence and righteousness are practiced, the smaller the territory that force can control.

This means that when favors and virtue are bestowed without partiality, many will attach themselves to the ruler. When benevolence and righteousness are abandoned and only force is used, the lands that can be held will be few.

Laozi said: One who obtains wealth through improper means and will not give it away invites disaster upon themselves. Such a person neither benefits others nor preserves their own safety. Their folly is truly great, no different from the owl that dotes only on its young.

To acquire wealth improperly and only accumulate it without distributing it to others is like raising a tiger that will become a menace, or nurturing an owl that will end up destroying oneself.

Therefore, clutching one's wealth and guarding it closely is not as wise as letting go in time. Sharpening a blade to its utmost keenness makes it difficult to keep that edge for long. Even if one hides wealth securely in chests and cabinets, it will in the end become the property of a great thief. How, then, could one possess it forever?

De (Virtue/Power) contains Dao (the Way) within it, and Dao likewise contains De, and their transformations are inexhaustible. One who possesses Dao necessarily possesses De, and one who possesses De necessarily possesses Dao. When both Dao and De are full and complete, one can respond to the transformations of the myriad things without end.

Yang (yang) contains Yin (yin), and Yin contains Yang. All affairs are like this, and the principles involved cannot be exhausted in speech. When good fortune arrives and auspicious signs appear, misfortune lies hidden within them. When calamity arrives, auspiciousness may already have announced itself. If one sees an auspicious sign and then does unwholesome deeds, good fortune will not come. If one meets with misfortune yet does good, calamity may not arrive. Benefit and harm issue from the same source, and calamity and fortune accompany and border each other. Only the sage can discern how they change. Thus it is said: "Misfortune is where fortune rests; fortune is where misfortune lies hidden." Who can know where these transformations end?

"Yang within Yin, Yin within Yang" means that fortune conceals misfortune and misfortune conceals fortune. When people see good fortune, they consider themselves blessed, but they should understand that fortune may be the beginning of calamity. When they see calamity, they hasten to do good, but they should understand that calamity may be the herald of fortune. The arrival of fortune and calamity is like cords twisted together. Unless one is supremely sage, it is difficult to see clearly how they will ultimately turn.

When a person is about to fall ill, they often first crave the savor of fish and meat. When a state is about to perish, its ruler often first grows weary of the counsel of loyal ministers.

When a person is ill yet only craves sweet foods and rich flavors, this is often a sign that the illness is grave and death is near. When a state is in chaos yet despises loyal counsel and believes in deviant doctrines, this is often a sign that the state is about to perish.

When a patient is already on the brink of death, even the finest physician will struggle to save him. When a state is about to fall, even the most loyal minister will struggle to preserve it. Physicians and loyal ministers should carefully assess the situation. When they know that recovery is impossible, they should not waste effort on futile remedies. When they see that there is still a chance of recovery, they should devise plans to act.

One must first cultivate oneself before one can govern the common people, and first put one's household in order before the principles of managing a household can be extended to the court and the state. Thus it is said: when one cultivates the self, one's De (Virtue/Power) becomes pure; when one governs the household well, one's De becomes abundant; when one governs the state well, one's De becomes all the more full.

Observing others by taking oneself as the reference, and governing the state by the way of governing a household, the key in both cases lies in cultivating oneself and preserving the De within one's natural endowment.

The people rely on clothing and food to live. If governmental affairs can properly secure the people's clothing and food, they will be effective; if they cannot, they will be ineffective. When governance is ineffective, the rule of De cannot endure.

Clothing and food are the foundation on which the people survive, and the people are the basis on which rulers and ministers govern the state. When the people's clothing and food are secured, rulers and ministers can preserve the state over the long term.

When one follows the trend of the times yet still does not succeed, one should not change the established laws on that account. When one governs in accordance with the trend yet still sees no results, one should not rashly alter the way of governance. Opportunity will rise again in time. This is the Daoji (the guiding principles and constant norms of the Dao).

Times wax and wane, and fortune brings smoothness and hardship. One must not take the numerous decrees of the past as the key to governing the realm today. Punishments should not be abandoned, and the way of governance should not be lightly changed. To understand this is to grasp the essentials of the Dao.

The sovereign who enriches the people

is precisely the one who fortifies the root of the state.

To enrich the land and widen territory by impoverishing the common people is the way of a hegemon. To enrich officials by raising taxes is the way of a dangerous state. When a state is governed so that even its ordinary revenues seem insufficient, and efforts to restore order prove equally powerless, this is a sign that the state is about to fall into turmoil.

A ruler who is about to lose his state empties the treasury and leaves the granaries bare. Expenditures go unchecked, and the grain stores grow emptier by the day. The ruler is slack and idle, and the people are exhausted. Why would such a state not perish?

Therefore it is said: when the ruler does not interfere rashly, the people naturally grow prosperous, and when the ruler follows what is natural and does not force action, the people are naturally transformed by teaching. The people dwell at peace in their homes and take delight in their livelihoods.

Dispatching a hundred thousand troops costs a thousand pieces of gold each day, and after a war a year of famine is sure to follow. Therefore weapons are ill-omened things, not things that a gentleman cherishes.

When war arises at the front, famine follows closely behind at the rear. When the state spends tens of thousands in gold and the people are worn down by heavy corvée labor, one should recognize that weapons are ill-omened things, which the sage does not value.

Those who wish to quell deep resentment often leave lingering resentment behind. Why does this unfortunate result follow?

What is meant by quelling resentment yet leaving lingering resentment is that the ruler lacks wisdom. He dismisses meritorious ministers and weakens talented lords, and being unable to endure momentary anger, he instead brews calamity. When the ruler rages above and the ministers below harbor arrogant resentment, how could this not accumulate still more resentment?

The ancients drew near to those close at hand not through empty talk, and summoned those from afar not through verbal command. Those nearby submit sincerely and wholeheartedly, and those far away naturally come. What makes those near rejoice and those far submit is Virtue (De), not words.

Sharing the common people's aspirations makes relations harmonious. Guarding the state together with the people makes the state secure. Being of one mind with the people allows one to understand their conditions. One who wins the people's labor will be prosperous, and one who wins the people's praise will be eminent.

Conduct may invite enemies, and speech may bring calamity. Do not speak before others, nor wait until others have spoken and then echo them. As for words whispered from ear to ear, known as "ear-whispering," which is the secret passing of a message, once they spread they may travel a thousand li. Words can bring calamity, and the tongue is like the trigger that sets off disaster. If a word is improperly spoken, even a team of four horses cannot retrieve it.

The passage closes by repeating its warning: conduct invites enemies and speech invites calamity. Do not speak first, nor echo others after the fact, and be all the more cautious with words passed along in private.

Rumors can travel a thousand li beyond one's presence. Words may invite calamity, and the tongue is the pivot on which disaster turns. Once speech is ill-judged, even a team of four horses cannot overtake it and bring it back.

Bandits covet profit, yet calamity often arises from speech. Words have no feet, yet they travel far; they have no wings, yet they scatter in every direction. Like a flaw upon white jade, even a team of four horses cannot pursue what has already been spoken. The calamities that speech brings, then, arrive swiftly.

Formerly, Zhonghuangzi said: Heaven has five directions, namely east, south, west, north, and center. Earth has the Five Phases (wuxing): Metal, Wood, Water, Fire, and Earth. Sound has five tones: gong, shang, jue, zhi, and yu. Things have five flavors: sweet, bitter, pungent, sour, and salty. Colors come in five kinds: green, yellow, red, white, and black. Human beings have five corresponding positions, referring to the five viscera.

Accordingly, the people between Heaven and earth may be divided into twenty-five categories, each of a different rank. The five highest categories are the Spirit Person (shenren), the Authentic Person (zhenren), the Dao Person (daoren), the Ultimate Person (zhiren), and the Sage (shengren). One whose transformations are unfathomable is called "Spirit"; one whose purity is unmixed is called "Authentic"; one who penetrates without obstruction is called "Dao"; one whose mind can perceive the profound is called "Ultimate"; and one whose wisdom suffices to comprehend all things is called "Sage."

The next five categories are the Virtuous Person (deren), the Worthy (xianren), the Wise Person (zhiren), the Good Person (shanren), and the Eloquent Person (bianren). One who can contain and store is called "Virtuous," or de, the power that comes from accumulated cultivation; one who is beloved and respected by others is called "Worthy"; one who is clear-sighted is called "Wise"; one who is open and forgiving is called "Good"; and one who excels in language is called "Eloquent."

The middle five categories are the Impartial Person (gongren), the Loyal Person (zhongren), the Trustworthy Person (xinren), the Righteous Person (yiren), and the Ritually Proper Person (liren). One who harbors no private interest is called "Impartial"; one who serves the ruler wholeheartedly is called "Loyal"; one whose words and deeds do not fail to keep faith is called "Trustworthy"; one who acts appropriately in affairs is called "Righteous"; and one who is respectful and gentle is called "Ritually Proper."

The next five categories are the Scholar (shiren), the Artisan (gongren), the Forester (yuren), the Farmer (nongren), and the Merchant (shangren). One who serves those above is called "Scholar"; one who manages tools or construction projects is called "Artisan"; one who oversees mountains, forests, rivers, and marshes is called "Forester"; one who tills the fields is called "Farmer"; and one who manages the circulation of goods is called "Merchant."

The lowest five categories are the Common People (zhongren), the Servile Person (nuren), the Foolish Person (yuren), the Fleshly Person (urenren), and the Petty Person (xiaoren).

Each kind of living being is collectively called zhong (the many). Those who are put to service and forced to labor are called nu (servants). Those who are muddled and unenlightened are called yu (the foolish). Those without wisdom are called rou (flesh). Those without insight are called xiaoren (petty people).

The difference between the upper five and the lower five is like the difference between humans and oxen or horses. This means that the gap between the wise and the foolish is immense, as if heaven and earth were separated.

The sage uses the eyes to see, the ears to hear, the mouth to speak, and the feet to walk. A sage who dwells among the world still has obstruction and barrier in the six emotions and sense faculties, and so must rely on external things in order to know and to act.

The Realized Person (zhenren), one who has embodied the Great Dao, can discern clearly without looking, perceive thoroughly without listening, respond to circumstances without personally walking, and deal with affairs justly without speaking. The transcendent sage's heart is already empty, still, and penetrating, and therefore nothing obstructs them when they encounter all manner of things.

Thus, the means by which the sage transforms the world are never exceeded by the Realized Person, and the methods by which the worthy rectify worldly customs are not even regarded by the sage.

In governing affairs, one holds fast to the true Dao, and each person fully attends to their own duties. Therefore, Tang Yao matched heaven's Dao through his sagely virtue, while Zhongwu corrected the customs of the age through his lofty and upright conduct.

What is called "Dao" has no before or after, no left or right. All things return to oneness in profound mystery, and there is no absolute right or wrong. Face it, and one does not see its front; follow it, and one does not find its back. Doing so is for the sake of rectifying the world.

What is called "Dao" has no before or after, no left or right; all things are mysteriously equalized, and there is no absolute right or wrong. Face it, and one does not see its front; follow it, and one does not find its back. Who can say it is on the left? And who knows that it is on the right? All things are blended together in a single whole, and so we reluctantly give it a name and call it "Dao."

End of the seventh scroll of the Tongxuan Zhenjing (Perfect Classic of Penetrating the Mystery).