《道德真经广圣义指略(原题唐玄宗御制道德真经疏)》

If the Dao can be explained in words, it is not the constant, unchanging true Dao. Here, “Dao” originally means openness and free passage without obstruction, while “constant” refers to clarity and stillness. The limitless Great Dao is regarded as the innate true nature of all beings. People can use words to express certain principles, but such expressions vary with circumstances; they are not the truly constant, settled, and silent Dao. The truly constant Dao cannot be discerned through names and words, nor grasped through thought. It is subtle and far-reaching, beyond the reach of ordinary senses and thought. Only by going beyond words and images can one accord with the settled, constant Dao of true stillness. Thus, whatever can be spoken and explained is not the truly constant Dao.

“Name” refers to teachings and doctrines. “The Dao that can be spoken is not the constant Dao” emphasizes truth; “the name that can be named is not the constant name” goes on to explain the teachings. Truth transcends words and images, and the highest teaching transcends spoken sounds. Since the constant Dao cannot be fully expressed in words, teachings that can be named and spoken are not the eternal, true name. The principle and the teaching discussed here are neither entirely identical nor wholly separate. The Supreme Dao is profound and boundless: it is neither being nor nonbeing, neither cut off nor fixed and unchanging. Teachings sometimes emphasize one aspect, sometimes another; they may be presented gradually or lead to sudden realization. Thus, the scripture invokes the “constant Dao” to release us from attachment to what “can be spoken.” At the ultimate point, one should cling neither to what “can be” nor to what “cannot be.” The Jade Capital Scripture says: “There is nothing that can be, and nothing that cannot be; thought is joined to the realm of the subtle and ineffable.”

“The nameless is the beginning of Heaven and Earth.”

“Beginning” means the root. The ultimate Dao, empty and formless, gives rise to all things. The Yin-Yang energies of Heaven and Earth, along with the sun, moon, and stars, all come from it. Here, then, “the nameless” refers to the root of all things. The Dao without a name is not altogether beyond words; its meaning can already be made clear.

The nameless is the beginning of Heaven and Earth and all things.

“Beginning” means the root. The ultimate Dao, empty and formless, gives rise to all things. The Yin-Yang energies of Heaven and Earth, along with the sun, moon, and stars, all come from it. Thus, the idea of calling “the nameless” the root of all things has been made clear.

The named is the mother of all things.

“Mother” refers to a state in which there are names and discernible forms. The Dao of Chongxuan (a Daoist philosophical term for the Dao that transcends attachment by successively setting aside distinctions) is originally nameless. Only when concrete forms emerge from the root do names arise. Thus, the sage uses “the named” to explain “the nameless”: although words are used to describe the Dao, their purpose is to help people realize the nameless Dao. The sage seeks to nurture all beings and guide them back to the root. This compassionate care is like a mother’s, which is why it is called “mother.”

Always without desire, one can perceive its subtlety.

“Mysterious” means subtle, “perceive” means to discern, and “its” refers to oneself. If people can remain free of desire and act without striving, attaining a state of stillness and emptiness, they can perceive the subtle Dao within themselves at close range and apprehend the subtleties of ultimate truth from afar.

Always with desire, one can see only its surface and limits.

If people cannot remain calm and free of striving, perceive what is subtle, and hold fast to what is true, but instead give rise to covetousness and let desires pull them into attachment, they can see only that things in the world exist, without realizing the emptiness within “being.” They therefore cannot discern the subtle principles and see only the end of the cycle of birth and death. The preceding passage discusses the relative merits of the nameless and the named; this one discusses the gains and losses of being with or without desire.

These two arise from the same source, yet have different names.

The realm being perceived is in fact one, but the minds of those who perceive it differ. Because the two ways of perceiving are different, what is seen as the “limits” and the “subtlety” bears different names.

These two arise from the same source, yet have different names.

The realm being perceived is in fact one, but the minds of those who perceive it differ. Because the two ways of perceiving are different, what is seen as the “limits” and the “subtlety” bears different names.

Their common name is “mystery.”

“Darkness” (xuan) means profound and hidden, and also refers to not remaining fixed on either side. The ideas of being and nonbeing both arise from the same Dao (the Way); they simply have different names. Though their names differ, they point to the same principle. That is why it is called profound and hidden: in the end, this principle means clinging to neither side. One clings neither to being nor to nonbeing, but to neither of the two; this is why it is called “darkness.”

Darkness upon darkness

Those who cling to desire remain on the side of “being”; those without desire may, in turn, remain on the side of “nonbeing.” Thus, the text speaks of “darkness” to remove attachment to either side. Yet there is also concern that practitioners may cling to the notion of “darkness,” so it says “upon darkness” to dispel that attachment further. In this way, one clings neither to clinging nor to non-clinging; attachment is relinquished layer by layer. Hence the phrase “darkness upon darkness.”

The gateway to all wonders

“Gateway” refers to a method of practice, a path leading to understanding. The preceding passage uses the centered position of “darkness” to remove attachment to the sides of being and nonbeing. Once attachment to both sides has been removed, even the middle way, which served as a “remedy,” must be let go. Only when both the illness and the medicine that cures it have been eliminated does one reach the utmost subtle state, where principle and nature are fully realized. Thus “darkness” is not only the gateway through which all sages and worthies enter the Great Dao; it is also the method by which one reaches every kind of mystery.

Chapter Two: All Under Heaven Know

All under heaven know beauty as beauty

The commentary draws on the passage in the Zhuangzi, “Knowledge Wanders North,” about the marvelous and the putrid. The Yellow Emperor tells Zhi that all things are originally one. What people consider beautiful, they call marvelous; what they find repugnant, they call putrid.

Long and short take shape in relation to each other

The commentary invokes the meaning of a passage in the Zhuangzi, “Webbed Toes”: a wild duck’s legs are short, while a crane’s legs are long. Long and short become apparent only through comparison.

Therefore the sage

The commentary says that “sage” broadly refers to five kinds of people. The first kind are sages who have attained the Dao, such as the Most High Lord Lao and the great sages of the various heavens; the second kind are those who hold the position of ruler over all under heaven.

The commentary says that sages can broadly be divided into five kinds.

The first kind consists of sages who have attained the Dao, such as the Most High Lord Lao and the great sages of the various heavens. The second kind consists of sages who held sovereignty over all under Heaven and also attained immortality, such as Fuxi, the Yellow Emperor, Zhuanxu, Shaohao, Yao, and Shun. The third kind consists of sages who held sovereignty over all under Heaven but did not attain immortality, such as Tang of Yin, King Wen of Zhou, and King Wu of Zhou. They governed the realm and brought peace to the four quarters, but did not ascend to Heaven and become immortal. The fourth kind consists of sages of broad learning and great ability who held no sovereign’s position, such as the Duke of Zhou and Confucius. They established rites and music and set examples for rulers of later generations. Though they held no imperial position, their De (Virtue/Power) accorded with Heaven and Earth. The fifth kind consists of sages who excelled exceptionally in a particular field but were not known for broad learning. They, too, possessed many of the virtues found in the sages described above. Boya and Shi Wen, for example, were sages skilled at playing the zither; Ziqing and Suiming were sages skilled at playing chess; Zhongqi and Yanzhou were sages able to discern music; Han E and Qin Qing were sages skilled in singing; Gongshu and Wenzhi were sages who used their wisdom to set affairs in order; Lizhu and Shi Kuang had exceptionally keen sight or hearing; and Zhang Zhi and Zhong Yao were masters of cursive calligraphy. Today, the enlightened ruler is a sage who governs the realm.

“Everything comes forth, and [the sage] does not refuse it.” The commentary explains this state through the image of people “striking clods and beating their bellies”: the people live in comfort and contentment, singing as they strike the clods and delighting themselves by beating their bellies. This expression appears in the “Horses’ Hooves” chapter of the Zhuangzi.

“To accomplish the work without taking credit” means not claiming credit for one’s achievements. The commentary cites the Shangshu, “Be cautious each day,” emphasizing the need to act carefully every day. As for the passage beginning “As for achievement, the achievement of a king is called…,” the original does not provide a complete explanation.

“Daily caution, day by day” comes from the Book of Documents and means becoming more cautious with each passing day.

Merit comes in different kinds. Helping a ruler establish his reign is called “merit in kingship”; the Duke of Zhou is an example. Preserving a state is called “merit to the state”; Yi Yin is an example. Bringing laws and standards to the people is called “merit to the people”; Hou Ji is an example. Securing the state through hard work is called “merit through service”; Yu the Great is an example. Establishing laws and standards so that governance is orderly is called “merit in administration”; Jiuyao is an example. Defeating enemies and winning through stratagem is called “merit in battle”; Han Xin is an example.

The merit discussed here is “profound merit”: achievement whose effects are far-reaching but not readily seen. If a ruler does not give way to arbitrary anger or delight, punishments and rewards will not be abused, and wars will not arise. If he does not make arbitrary demands, the people’s burdens will not grow heavy, and the court will not require excessive supplies. If he does not appoint people according to personal likes and dislikes, appointments and dismissals will be fitting, and the worthy will be distinguished from the unworthy. If he does not place undue trust in attendants close at hand, those around him on every side will be upright. If he does not seize land arbitrarily, there will be no need to mobilize troops, and soldiers will not have to toil. If he does not impose forced labor on the people, the world will be at peace.

“Fine and straight as a hair” comes from “Capital Gentlemen” in the Minor Odes of the Book of Songs. It describes someone whose character is meticulous and conduct upright, like a strand of hair that is even from root to tip, with no variation.

Chapter Three: “Do Not Exalt the Worthy”

If certain people are not held up as models of worthiness, the people will not compete with one another.

The lines “Clouds follow the dragon, wind follows the tiger” in the Qian hexagram of the Book of Changes were spoken by Confucius as he explained the text of the ninth-five line. The dragon flies in the sky and can respond to and influence the myriad things. The text therefore continues: water flows toward damp places, and fire burns toward dry ones; clouds rise with the dragon, and wind arises with the tiger. Each responds to things of its own kind. When the Son of Heaven ascends to the ninth-five position and rules the realm, he too can summon the nations to come and pay court in this way. When a sage arises, the myriad things can all see him. What is born of Heaven draws near to what is above; what is born of Earth draws near to what is below.

Here, water belongs to Yin and, when it flows over the earth, naturally runs toward damp places. Fire belongs to Yang and, when it burns wood, naturally tends toward dry places. These two things have neither awareness nor feelings, yet they respond to one another through their vital energies all the same. The dragon is a creature of the waters, while clouds are water vapor; when the dragon roars, auspicious clouds rise. The tiger is a powerful beast, while wind is a force of motion; when the tiger roars, wind stirs in the valleys. Though these things each have their own form, they still respond to one another through their vital energies. How much more, then, when a sage descends into the world like a flying dragon in the sky: sages and worthy people assist one another, and the myriad things respond to one another. The Classic therefore gives many examples to explain this kind of resonance.

When Yao and Shun were on the throne, they had no shortage of worthy and capable ministers known as the “Eight Yuan” and “Eight Kai.” When Yi Yin and Lü Shang entered court to assist their rulers, they too gained renown as ministers fit to serve as chief counselors.

Tang Yao’s surname was Yiqi, his personal name Fangxun, and his title Tao Tang. He displayed sage virtue from childhood and established his capital in Ji. At the age of eighty-six, believing that his son Danzhu was unworthy, he sought widely for a virtuous person and recommended Shun. He put Shun through various trials to test him, and also gave him his two daughters in marriage so that he could observe his character. Two years later, Yao abdicated the throne in Shun’s favor. Shun had ruled for twenty-eight years when Yao died at the age of one hundred and seventeen. Yao was buried at Chengyang in Jiyin. According to the rules for posthumous titles, one who is skilled at passing the throne to a sage is called “Yao.”

Shun belonged to the Youyu clan. After being tested, he ascended the throne; when Yao died, Shun had already ruled for twenty-eight years. Shun was summoned and appointed at the age of thirty. He first acted as emperor for twenty-eight years, observed mourning for three years, and then formally served as Son of Heaven for fifty years. He died during a southern tour in the wilderness of Cangwu, at the age of one hundred and twelve. Because his son Shangjun was unworthy, Shun ordered Yu to succeed him as emperor. Shun was buried at Lingling on Jiuyi Mountain. Daoist texts call Yao the Perfected Lord of Great Subtlety and Shun the Perfected Lord of the Supreme Ultimate.

“Eight Yuan” and “Eight Kai” refers to two groups of eight worthy men. Gaoxin had eight able descendants: Bo, Zhongkan, Shuxian, Jizhong, Bohu, Zhongxiong, Shubao, and Jili. They were loyal, respectful, upright, kind, generous, and harmonious, and people throughout the realm called them the “Eight Yuan.” Here, “solemn” means respectful, “excellent” means fine, “proclaim” means widespread, and “yuan” means good.

Gaoyang also had eight able descendants: Cangshu, Suisui, Daoyan, Dalin, Longjiang, Tingjian, Zhongrong, and Shuda. They were impartial, perceptive, broad-minded, profound, wise, trustworthy, sincere, and earnest, and people throughout the realm called them the “Eight Kai.” Here, “even” means impartial, “deep” means profound, “reliable” means trustworthy, “steadfast” means sincere, and “kai” means harmonious.

These sixteen clans passed down their virtues from generation to generation, and their reputations never declined. Yao did not employ them. After Shun became Yao’s minister, he recommended the Eight Yuan to travel throughout the regions and teach the “Five Teachings”: fathers should act according to what is right, mothers should be loving, elder brothers should be friendly, younger brothers should be respectful, and children should be filial. In this way, the realm was settled within, and affairs beyond its borders were also handled well. The Eight Yuan were descendants of Gaoxin; among them were Ji, Xie, Zhuhu, and Xiongpi.

Shun also recommended the Eight Kai to oversee land and government affairs. They coordinated the various responsibilities, arranged them in good order, and ultimately brought the land under control and established sound governance. The Eight Kai were descendants of Gaoyang’s Zhuanxu; among them were Chui, Yu, Gaoyao, and Yi. Gaoyao’s courtesy name was Tingjian. Xie served as Minister of Education, responsible for implementing the Five Teachings with generosity as his guiding principle. Yu served as Minister of Works, managing the waters and the land, and was also one of the Eight Kai. “Settled within” means that the Huaxia realm was at peace; “accomplished beyond” means that affairs involving foreign peoples on the borders, such as the Rong and Di, were properly managed. After Shun recommended these sixteen clans, the realm was well governed, and peace and harmony prevailed both within and beyond its borders.

Yi Yin came from the region around the Yi River. According to tradition, he was born at Kong Sang. He served as chancellor of the Shang, helping Taijia govern the state, and was known as “Aheng.” His predecessor Yizhi assisted Tang of Shang in founding the state and bringing peace to it; Yi Yin’s son Yishe assisted Taijia’s grandson Taiwu. The achievements of these ministers were prominent during the Shang dynasty.

Lü Shang was Taigong Wang. His surname was Jiang and his courtesy name Ziya. He once fished at Pan Creek. According to tradition, he caught a large fish and, when he cut it open, found a jade huang pendant containing a military text. He then studied the art of war. When he was over eighty, King Wen of Zhou consulted an oracle before going hunting by the Wei River. The divination read: “It is neither a bear nor a brown bear, but the teacher of a king.” While hunting, King Wen met Lü Shang and invited him to return in his carriage. Lü Shang helped the Zhou establish their rule. He was first enfeoffed in Lü, though some records say he was enfeoffed in Fu; after the Shang was conquered, he was enfeoffed in Qi. The Duke of Shao ordered Taigong to assist the Zhou court and granted him authority over the lands stretching east to the sea, west to the Yellow River, south to Muling, and north to Wudi. Later, Duke Huan of Qi, Xiaobai, became leader of the feudal lords. At the end of the Spring and Autumn period, his minister Tian He moved Duke Kang of Qi to the coast and seized control of Qi.

“Hope of the tai and heng” refers to the prospect of becoming a chief minister who assists the Son of Heaven. In ancient times, the Son of Heaven appointed the Three Dukes and other officials to help govern the realm. The “Three Terraces” are six stars in the heavens, arranged as an upper, middle, and lower terrace, with two stars in each. They lie south of the Ziwei stars and encircle the seat of the emperor. The stellar pattern extends from Wenchang to Taiwei and the Celestial Steps. They are said to govern the Three Dukes and Nine Ministers, the officials and common people, and the nine provinces. Bright stars in harmonious arrangement symbolize concord between ruler and ministers and fairness in the laws. Irregular positions or changes in color are considered inauspicious.

The upper and middle terraces are sixteen degrees apart, as are the middle and lower terraces; the two stars in each terrace are half a degree apart. If the distance between the stars is too great, it is called “extravagance”; if too small, “confinement.” The stars of the upper terrace govern the Son of Heaven, those of the middle terrace govern the feudal lords—such as the Bo, Zi, and Nan—and the people of the borderlands, while those of the lower terrace govern the high ministers and senior officials. A curved and bright star is an auspicious sign; a star that trembles or changes color is an ominous one. If one star leaves its position, the realm is in danger; if two do, the realm is in turmoil; if all three do, the realm can no longer be governed.

The Grand Preceptor guides ministers and people through moral instruction and exemplary conduct; the Grand Tutor instructs the ruler in virtue and righteousness; and the Grand Protector safeguards the ruler. The Grand Commandant oversees the military, the Minister of Education implements the Five Teachings, and the Minister of Works manages the waters and the land. These Three Dukes correspond to the Three Terraces in the heavens.

In “Aheng,” “a” means reliance, and “heng” means fairness and uprightness. The phrase means that the Son of Heaven relies on the Three Dukes for assistance in governing the realm fairly.

Do not prize rare and hard-to-obtain goods.

The commentary quotes the Zhuangzi, “Webbed Toes”: Those who do not accord with benevolence go against the original nature of Heaven and life, greedily pursuing wealth and status.

If you do not let things that stir desire sway the heart, your mind and spirit will not be thrown into confusion.

The explanatory text says: A lesser hermit lives in the mountains and forests; a great hermit lives hidden amid the bustle of the marketplace. If you have not yet completely severed desire and fear that things in the outer world may sway you, then for a time withdraw to the mountains and forests, far from temptations that readily meet the eye. Once the mind within is clear and bright, thoughts have come to rest, and you are focused on the right Way, the outer world will have no means to disturb or confuse you, and the heart can remain calm and at peace. Even amid the marketplace’s daily bustle, you will pay no heed to fame or profit; even while mingling in worldly affairs, you will not be troubled by all the talk of right and wrong. In this way, living in a city will not hinder the cultivation of the Dao (practicing its teachings and nurturing one’s nature).

Keep the mind empty and still.

The commentary quotes “In an empty room, brightness is born” from the Zhuangzi, “The Human World,” meaning that when the mind within is empty and clear, clarity can emerge.

Fill the belly.

“Eat until you are satisfied, then stop” means to stop eating once you have had enough. The saying comes from the Spring and Autumn Annals and appears among the words with which Zimei admonished Duke Wu of Wei.

The Spring and Autumn Annals is the name of the historical record of the state of Lu. Events were first entered under the day on which they occurred, then arranged by day, month, season, and year. Since a year has four seasons, “Spring and Autumn” was chosen as the title. The Son of Heaven appointed court historians, and the feudal states also kept their own histories. The history of Chu was called the Tao Wu, that of Jin the Cheng, and that of Lu the Spring and Autumn Annals.

Confucius edited the classic, and Zuo Qiuming wrote a commentary on it. The Spring and Autumn Annals begins in the forty-eighth year of King Ping of Zhou and the first year of Duke Yin of Lu. That year was the year Ding-si, when the lunar lodges were positioned in Jianglou. The commentary goes on to list the rulers of Jin, Wei, Cai, Zheng, Cao, Qi, Chu, Qin, Song, Chen, and Yan at the time, along with the number of years each had reigned, showing that this was the year in which the Spring and Autumn Annals began.

The classic then records events up to the fourteenth year of Duke Ai of Lu and the thirty-ninth year of King Jing of Zhou—that is, the year Wu-wu—and begins to explain that the Spring and Autumn Annals spans two hundred…

After forty-two years, and through the reigns of fourteen kings of the Zhou dynasty and twelve rulers of Lu, this was the year when Duke Ding of Jin was in his thirty-first year of rule, Duke Chu of Wei his twelfth, Duke Cheng of Cai his tenth, Duke Sheng of Zheng his twentieth, Duke Jian of Qi his fourth, King Hui of Chu his eighth, Duke Dao of Qin his eleventh, Duke Jing of Song his thirty-sixth, Duke Min of Chen his twenty-first, Duke Jing of Yan his sixth, and Fuchai of Wu his fifteenth. This was the very year recorded in the Spring and Autumn Annals as the final entry in the history of Lu, marked by the capture of the qilin.

The Spring and Autumn Annals comprises thirty volumes, containing 352,025 phrases and 194,590 characters. It originally had 157,966 characters of commentary, annotated by Du Yu (courtesy name Yuankai), a General Who Pacified the South during the Jin dynasty.

In the twenty-eighth year of Duke Zhao, Wei Xianzi Shu governed Jin. He appointed his son Wu as magistrate of Gengyang (Gengyang, a local administrative post in the area of present-day Jinyang). That winter, a lawsuit arose in Gengyang, and Wu could not decide the case, so he reported it to Wei Xianzi. One of the parties to the dispute, a powerful clan, offered female musicians as a bribe, and Wei Xianzi was preparing to accept them. Wu said to Wei Xianzi’s two senior officers, Yan Mei and Ru Kuan: “Our lord has long been known among the feudal states for refusing bribes. If he accepts the bribe sent from Gengyang, there could be no greater greed. You two must urge him to reconsider.” They agreed.

After court, the two waited in the courtyard. When the meal was served, Wei Xianzi invited them to eat with him. Each time a dish was brought out, the two sighed. After the meal, Wei Xianzi asked them to sit and said, “I have heard an old saying: ‘Once you eat, you can forget your worries.’ You sighed each time a dish was served. Why?”

The two answered together: “Someone gave us wine, so we will not need to eat again tonight. When the meal first arrived, we worried there would not be enough food, so we sighed. When half the dishes had been set out, we reproached ourselves: How could we let the general be troubled by there not being enough food? So we sighed again. When all the dishes had been served, we hoped our capacity would match a gentleman’s breadth of mind, knowing when to be content and when to stop. So we sighed a third time.”

Wei Xianzi therefore declined the bribe sent from Gengyang. Here, “Xian” is a posthumous title; “Wu Zi” is a personal designation. His given name was Ke, and he was given the posthumous title “Wu” after his death.

When Wuwei (non-action) is put into practice in governing, nothing under Heaven is left poorly governed.

“Soundless and scentless” comes from “King Wen” in the Greater Odes of the Book of Songs. Here it describes the Dao of Heaven as deep and hard to fathom: the ear cannot hear its sound, and the nose cannot smell its scent. When a ruler follows King Wen’s Virtue, people throughout the realm naturally trust and obey him. “Knowing nothing and understanding nothing” comes from “August Heaven” in the Greater Odes of the Book of Songs. It means not being bound by the past or fixed in preconceived views, but acting in accordance with the Dao of Heaven.

“Non-action” does not mean failing to respond when summoned, showing no reaction when moved, or stubbornly standing still and refusing to adapt. It means that private intentions do not override the public good, and personal preferences and desires do not distort proper rules. One conducts affairs according to their underlying principles and accomplishes things in light of actual conditions. Once a task is complete, one does not boast; once an achievement is established, one does not claim it as one’s own.

For example, one travels by boat on water, by cart on sand, by sled over mud, and by sedan chair in the mountains. In summer, waterways are opened; in winter, embankments are built to store water. Fields are cultivated on high ground, while low ground is used to form ponds. All these actions follow the terrain and the seasons rather than forcing things, and so are called “non-action.”

When sages practice non-action, they go along with circumstances and appoint ministers to take responsibility for getting things done, without needing to attend to every task themselves. Their plans have no missteps, and their measures leave nothing out. Their words are fit to serve as standards, and their conduct as an example. Their advances and retreats suit the moment; their activity and stillness follow the principles of things. They do not judge what is good or bad by personal likes and dislikes, nor reward or punish on the basis of anger or pleasure. Each title has its proper place, and each thing is put to its proper use. Affairs unfold according to their natural patterns, rather than the ruler’s private intentions. By following the seasons of Heaven, the character of the land, and the inclinations of the people, the ministers rally to the ruler and every kind of talent finds its proper use. The ruler can direct the ministers, and the ministers can serve the ruler wholeheartedly. This is the Way of non-action in governing a state.

“An emperor emerges from Zhen” comes from the “Appended Statements” of the Book of Changes. The Zhen trigram represents the East and symbolizes the Qi of lesser Yang, as well as the source from which all things are born and transformed. The crown prince resides in the Eastern Palace, in the position of lesser Yang; ascending to the imperial throne is also likened to “emerging from Zhen,” evoking the image of Heaven and Earth beginning to bring forth all things. “Images” are signs that have just appeared, while Qi is formless; they mark the beginning of the generation of all things. The Great Dao precedes these signs and transformations of Qi, showing that it is lofty and boundless.

“Straw dogs” are dogs woven from straw and used in sacrificial rites. The Zhuangzi’s chapter “The Course of Heaven” records this practice. The text uses straw dogs as a metaphor for Heaven and Earth’s attitude toward all things: things are born and perish according to their natural transformations, without receiving preferential treatment based on human likes or dislikes.

The “Tan Gong” chapter of the Book of Rites records that when Confucius’s dog died, he asked Zigong to bury it. Confucius said that an old curtain should not be discarded, since it could be used to bury a horse; when a ruler’s horse died, it would be buried in a curtain. An old carriage cover should not be discarded either, since it could be used to bury a dog. Confucius’s family was poor and had no carriage cover, so he used a mat to bury the dog, keeping its head from sinking directly into the earth.

“Putting oneself behind and oneself beyond” means that the sage puts personal interests last and thereby preserves himself. The commentary gives several examples: destroying an amber pillow, burning a pheasant-feather robe decorated with feathers from the bird’s head, halting an enormously costly terrace project, and declining a thousand-mile horse. These actions left a legacy of virtue in their time and ensured that their names were recorded in history.

“Good governance in government” means that one should be skilled at governing affairs of state.

“Upright Bearing Brings Understanding of Things” comes from the Zhuangzi, in the chapter “Tian Zifang.” Zifang, whose given name was Wu Ze, once sat beside Marquis Wen of Wei. The marquis thought that Xigong was Zifang’s teacher. Zifang replied, “No. He is only a man from my village. Since what he says about the Dao is often apt, I praise him.” Zifang’s true teacher was Dongguo Shunzi. He looked like an ordinary man, yet inwardly followed nature. His mind was empty and clear, and he guarded his original nature. Quiet and still, he could embrace the myriad things. When faced with what was unreasonable, he would awaken others through his upright bearing, dispelling their distracting thoughts. Even Wu Ze felt he was not worthy to praise him.

“Because he alone does not contend, he is therefore without fault.”

The commentary explains: The virtue of not contending stands foremost among the various virtues. Human nature is often prone to strife, and there are many things that provoke it: defiance leads to contention, cruelty leads to contention, arrogance leads to contention, anger leads to contention, extravagance leads to contention, boasting leads to contention, competitiveness leads to contention, discourtesy and disrespect lead to contention, greedy ambition leads to contention, displays of force lead to contention, love and hatred can also cause disputes, and high-handed indulgence leads to contention. Even a single such behavior by a ruler may bring armies to the field across the realm; by a feudal lord, it may lead to war between states; by a high minister, it may bring calamity upon a family; by a scholar or commoner, it may bring disaster upon that person.

All these disputes arise from acting without reflection, violating ritual and law, knowing no fear, and being unable to tolerate others. Thus strife begins. Fighting over a city leaves the streets strewn with corpses; fighting over land fills the open fields with the dead. One should investigate the roots of strife and block its source. In this way, matters can be brought under control.

Chapter Nine: “Hold and Fill It”

When a hall is filled with gold and jade, no one can keep them for long.

The explanatory commentary says: If one’s greed has no end, even a hall full of gold and jade cannot be kept. One should investigate the roots of strife and block its source. In this way, matters can be brought under control.

If greed knows no bounds, then even if gold and jade fill the hall, one may meet the fate of an elephant killed for its tusks, or a chicken that pecks off its own tail to avoid being made a sacrificial offering. In this way, one loses the treasure of “not being greedy” and invites the danger of others coveting and seizing one’s possessions. Since greed brings calamity, how could anyone claim that wealth can be kept secure?

The saying “the elephant has tusks, and for that reason loses its life” comes from an account in the twenty-fourth year of Duke Xiang in the Spring and Autumn Annals. At the time, Fan Xuanzi governed the state of Jin and levied heavy payments from the other lords, causing hardship for the people of Zheng. In the second month, Duke Jian of Zheng went to Jin. Zichan sent a letter through an intermediary to Zixi, asking him to convey this message to Fan Xuanzi: “As you govern Jin, the neighboring lords hear nothing of your virtue; what they hear is of your heavy demands. I do not understand this. I have heard that when a gentleman governs a state, he worries not about lacking wealth, but about lacking a good name. When the other lords’ wealth is gathered into Jin’s ruling house, they will grow estranged. If you rely on that wealth, Jin too will grow estranged from you. If the other lords turn away, Jin will decline; if Jin turns away, your own house will fall. Why be so eager to amass wealth? What use is there in gathering it all?

“A good name is the vehicle that carries virtue; virtue is the foundation of a state. When the foundation is firm, the state will not fall. Why not devote yourself to this? Virtue brings people joy, and joy endures. The Book of Songs says, ‘The joyful gentleman is the foundation of the state.’ This praises a person of virtue. Regard others with generosity, make virtue shine, and let your good name spread; then people from afar will come to you, and those nearby will be at peace. Is this not better than having people say, ‘You have indeed kept me alive,’ while also saying, ‘You have taken my wealth to keep yourself alive’?” The letter also said, “The elephant’s tusks bring calamity upon it: this is the harm caused by amassing wealth.”

Fan Xuanzi was pleased by what he heard and reduced the payments levied from the other lords. Duke Jian’s visit to Jin was prompted by the heavy burdens imposed earlier.

The story of “the chicken that pecked off its tail” comes from an account dating to the reign of King Jing of Zhou. Bin Meng, a guest of Zichao, went out to the countryside and saw a rooster pecking off its own tail. He sighed and said, “An animal used in a sacrifice must be whole and well-fed. By cutting off its tail, the rooster is making itself no longer whole, hoping to avoid being used as an offering. If even a chicken knows how to protect itself, how much more should a person? To chase profit while forgetting one’s own safety is to be less wise than a chicken.”

The phrase “the treasure of not being greedy” refers to a person from Zheng who found a piece of jade and wanted to present it to Zihan, saying, “This is a treasure. I offer it to you.” Zihan replied, “You regard jade as your treasure; I regard not being greedy as mine. If I accept this jade, we will both lose our respective treasures. Better to let both treasures remain intact.” He therefore declined it.

The phrase “inviting robbers” comes from the third line of the Book of Changes, Hexagram Jie: “Carrying a load on one’s back while riding in a carriage invites robbers.” Carrying goods on one’s back is the behavior of a commoner, while riding in a carriage is a privilege of a gentleman. When a person’s status does not match their conduct, people will not accept it, and robbers will seize the opportunity to take what they can.

Your achievements are complete, and your reputation has become illustrious.

“Achievement” refers to warding off disasters and eliminating calamities; “reputation” refers to wealth, rank, and glory. Once the high-flying birds have all been caught, the fine bows are put away; once the cunning hares are dead, the hounds are cooked. This is how circumstances unfold. Fan Li escaped by boat and thus avoided disaster; Wen Zhong clung to his official position and ultimately lost his life. This is the kind of situation being described. When the sun reaches its height, it begins to decline westward; after the moon is full, it begins to wane. Zhang Liang, courtesy name Zifang, gave up eating grains and lived in ease and contentment. Shu Guang resigned from office and returned to his home village, preserving his noble aspirations. Thus neither suffered the regret and grief associated with the men of Shangcai and Huating.

Chapter Ten: Bearing the Hun and Po

“Bearing the hun and po” means carrying and settling a person’s hun and po.

The Spring and Autumn Annals records Zichan as saying, “At the beginning of life, what forms is called the po.” This means that what a person is called at the earliest stage of formation is the po. The Spring and Autumn Annals, under Duke Zhao, Year Seven, records that at first Boyou governed the state of Zheng, but was later killed by Sidai. The people of Zheng were terrified and said that Boyou had returned. Someone dreamed of Boyou wearing armor, saying, “On the day renzi, I will kill Sidai.” The following year Boyou again said he would kill Duan. Later, Sidai died on a renzi day, and the year after that Gongsun Duan also died. The people of Zheng became even more afraid.

Someone asked Zichan, “Can Boyou still become a ghost?” Zichan replied, “The yin aspect in a person is called the po, and the yang aspect is called the hun. When a person’s Jing and Qi are abundant, the hun and po are strong. Even after ordinary men and women die unnatural deaths, their hun and po may still attach themselves to others and cause harm. How much more, then, is it no surprise that Boyou became a ghost after death, since his family held power for three generations?” Boyou was a descendant of Duke Mu, a grandson of Ziliang, and the son of Zi’er; this is why it is said that his family held power for three generations. Zichan later installed Boyou’s son Liangzhi, thereby pacifying Boyou, and the matter came to an end.

“Do not let a heart close to death recover its yang” comes from the Zhuangzi, “Discussion on Making All Things Equal.” It means that when the mind and spirit are close to death, one should not make them recover their yang energy.

The Three Hun are called Taiguang, Shuangling, and Youjing; the Seven Po are called Shigou, Fushi, Queyin, Tunzei, Chu hui, Choufei, and Feidu. These names appear in Shangqing scriptures.

Cherishing the People and Governing the State

The people are the foundation of the state. Wuwei (non-action)…

The people are the foundation of the state, and Wuwei (non-action) is the Dao’s way of guiding them. When a ruler guides the people through Wuwei, caring for and nurturing them, the foundations of the state become firm. Harsh and cruel decrees amount to tyrannical rule; heavy taxes and excessive corvée labor damage the people’s livelihood; conscripting people without regard for the farming calendar obstructs agriculture; and failing to encourage frugality exhausts the grain supply.

“The opening and closing of Heaven’s Gate” means that a ruler who governs the state and cares for the people must remain reverent and self-disciplined, following the Dao of Heaven and complying with the calendar and cycles ordained by Heaven, even after becoming a sovereign who rules from the south with hands folded in repose. Shun admonished Yu: “The allotted cycles of Heaven’s mandate have now fallen to you, and the blessings and favor bestowed by Heaven will continue for a long time.” Since a ruler receives Heaven’s mandate, he should cherish it; this is called “treasuring the mandate.” A destiny bestowed by Heaven is called “receiving the mandate from Heaven.” The Book of Changes: Appended Statements says, “The most precious treasure of a sage is the throne.”

When Heaven opens its gate, it sends down extraordinary auspicious signs: a yellow star shines brightly, red omens appear, purple Qi fills the court, the five planets gather in the Well mansion, a rainbow stretches across the moon, or thunder and lightning circle the pivot star of the Northern Dipper. Then outstanding people are born to serve as ministers and assist the ruler. The ruler follows Heaven’s will and the people’s wishes, saves the people and removes their hardships, receives Heaven’s mandate, and comes to possess all under Heaven.

If a ruler governs improperly, with punishments and decrees out of line, the people turn away and trusted followers disperse. War and calamity break out, and rebellion rises among the people. Heaven then reveals omens: solar eclipses, unusual celestial phenomena, mountains collapsing and rivers drying up. Disasters follow one another, and eventually the state falls. This is “the opening and closing of Heaven’s Gate.” Opening and closing in turn is called change. The Book of Changes: Appended Statements says that opening and closing recur in cycles, with Yin and Yang alternating; this expresses the principle that fortune and misfortune depend on one another and transform into each other.

Chapter Eleven: Thirty Spokes

The commentary says, “Heaven and Earth are the foundation of the Book of Changes.”

The explanation says: This statement comes from the Book of Changes: Appended Statements. It explains that the principles established by the Book of Changes are rooted in Qian (Heaven) and Kun (Earth); without Qian and Kun, those principles could not arise.

Thirty spokes converge at a single hub.

The term “multitude” appears in the Commentary on the Appended Phrases of the Book of Changes. It explains that the Book of Changes was founded on Qian and Kun; without them, its principles could not arise.

Thirty spokes converge at a single wheel hub.

The commentary says that “the many openings act upon one another” appears in the second chapter of the Zhuangzi.

Knead clay to make a vessel.

The commentary says that the potter’s craft appears in the Book of Documents: making objects from earth is called “pottery.” When Shun was of low status, he farmed at Mount Li and made pottery on the banks of the Yellow River.

Cut out doors and windows, and build a house.

The commentary cites the Book of Songs: “They dug a cave to make a dwelling, hollowing out a pit to live in.” The Zhuangzi says that when there is no open space in a house, mother-in-law and daughter-in-law will jostle to get through. The phrase “they made dwellings by digging and hollowing” appears in “Mian,” from the Greater Odes of the Book of Songs: Gugong Danfu dug out dwellings and hollowed pits to live in, for houses had not yet been built. “Gugong” refers to the ruler of Bin; “gu” means ancient. “Danfu” was his title. He was the grandfather of King Wen of Zhou and lived in Bin. The commentary further explains the mother-in-law and daughter-in-law jostling for passage: “path” means a narrow track, while “jostle” means to clash or become angry. The passage in the Outer Chapters of the Zhuangzi means that when a house has no open space and its passageways are narrow and crowded, people compete to get through, causing women to lose the decorum expected of them.

Thus, what has form can bring convenience, but it is the formless space that makes things work.

The commentary explains “above form” and “below form”: what is above form is the foundation of the Dao, quiet, empty, Wuwei, and situated above; what is below form is the Dao’s function. It then speaks of “the way of women,” meaning the principle by which one responds to physical form and practical affairs and puts them to use.

“Above form” refers to the substance of the Dao: clear, still, empty, and without action or form, existing above physical bodies. “Below form” refers to the workings of the Dao: all things receive the Dao and take on concrete shape and substance, appearing within physical bodies. When the Dao’s workings become manifest in things, and things acquire shape and substance, they are called “implements.” An “implement” is something formed in the physical world and available for use.

The sage follows the workings of the Dao and makes various implements to benefit the world: drawing the trigrams and creating writing; hollowing out wood to make boats and shaping wood into oars; cutting wood for pestles and digging into the earth to make mortars; bending wood and fitting it with a string to make bows, then shaping wood into arrows; building dwellings and weaving fishing nets; taming oxen and horses to carry goods over long distances; casting metal weapons and raising bamboo poles as banners; and shaping wood into plows, plowshares, and other farming tools. These are all ways of giving separate material form to the workings of the Dao, as described in the “Appended Statements” of the Book of Changes.

The Dao is a name for what has no form or body; physical form is the manifestation of what has shape and substance. All things arise from the formless, and every form is established by the Dao. The Dao exists before physical forms, so it is above form, while physical form is below the Dao. From the standpoint of what is above form, it is called the “Dao”; from the standpoint of what is below form, it is called an “implement.” Although “form” lies between the Dao and implements, it belongs on the side of implements, not the Dao. Once something has shape and substance, it can be made into an implement and put to use. Thus it is said: “What is below form is called an implement.”

Chapter Twelve: The Five Colors

The five colors dazzle the eye; the five tones deafen the ear; the five flavors dull the palate.

According to the Han dynasty scholar Liu Xiang, the “five tones” are the notes of the ancient five-note scale: gong, meaning “center,” symbolizes the virtue of the ruler; shang, meaning “to make manifest,” symbolizes the growth and maturation of all things as their patterned qualities emerge; jue, meaning “armor,” symbolizes the sprouting of all things; zhi, meaning “well-being,” symbolizes the flourishing of all things; and yu, meaning “to gather,” symbolizes all things accumulating and being stored away.

The commentary says: “The five colors”—according to the explanation of Wang Shushi, an ancient scholar—come about when white silk is dyed: with blue dye it becomes blue-green, with red dye it becomes red, with huangbo (a yellow dye like that made from Phellodendron bark) it becomes yellow, and with black dye it becomes black. In this way the five colors are formed. The five colors were established to represent the Five Phases and to distinguish garments according to rank and status. The five tones were established to connect the Qi of Heaven and Earth and to express the sounds associated with each of the Five Phases. The five flavors were established to express harmony among the Five Phases and to nourish people.

If people become absorbed in these two things—the five tones and the five flavors—and cling to them, will they not end up deaf, blind, and with their sense of taste impaired? The struggle for fine food has even caused calamities such as the mutton stew incident and the turtle incident.

The so-called “mutton stew” comes from an account in the Spring and Autumn Annals. In the second year of Duke Huan of Lu, the Zheng nobleman Gongsun Guisheng, acting on the orders of the king of Chu, attacked Song. Hua Yuan and Le Ju of Song led troops to resist. On the renzi day of the second month, the two armies fought at Daji. Before the battle, Hua Yuan slaughtered sheep to reward his soldiers but gave none to his charioteer, Yang Zhen. During the battle, Yang Zhen said, “Yesterday, you decided who got the mutton stew. Today, I decide how we fight.” He then drove his chariot straight into the Zheng army, bringing about a crushing defeat for Song. The people of Zheng captured Hua Yuan and took Le Ju prisoner; they also seized 460 chariots, captured 250 people, and took one hundred enemy heads. Song later ransomed Hua Yuan with one hundred war chariots and four hundred patterned horses. After half the ransom had been paid, Hua Yuan escaped back to Song. He stood outside the Zimen gate and entered the city only after making his report. When he met Yang Zhen, he said, “Your horses…”

“Also” connects with what came before. Someone asked, “Is that a horse?” The reply was, “No, it is a person.” After answering, Yang Zhen drove his carriage toward the state of Lu. A gentleman said that Yang Zhen did not deserve to be called a person: because of a private grudge, he brought ruin upon the state and disaster upon its people. What crime could be more serious? The Minor Odes says, “People have no good intentions.” Perhaps this describes Yang Zhen. To satisfy a personal grievance, he harmed the people.

The story called “Cutting Up the Soft-Shelled Turtle” concerns an event recorded under the fourth year of Duke Xuan of the Spring and Autumn Annals. People from Chu presented a soft-shelled turtle to Duke Ling of Zheng. Duke Ling’s personal name was Yi; he was the heir of Duke Mu of Zheng. The nobleman Zigong, whose personal name was Zong, and Zajia, whose personal name was Guisheng, were about to enter the court when Zigong’s index finger—the second finger—suddenly twitched. He showed it to Zajia and said, “Whenever this happens, I’m sure to taste some especially fine food.” When they entered the palace, the cook was preparing to cut up the turtle. Zigong and Zajia looked at each other and laughed. Duke Ling asked why they were laughing, and Zajia told him about the twitching finger.

When it was time to eat the turtle, Duke Ling summoned the great officers to share it, but deliberately gave none to Zigong. Angered, Zigong dipped his finger into the cooking vessel, tasted the food, and left. Duke Ling was furious and wanted to kill him. Zigong and Zajia discussed striking first. Zajia urged him, “People cannot bear to kill livestock that have grown old. How much less should they kill their ruler?” Zigong, however, turned around and falsely accused Zajia. Afraid, Zajia followed Zigong’s lead. In summer, they killed Duke Ling. The historical record states, “The Zheng nobleman Guisheng killed his ruler Yi.” This was because Zajia lacked the power to stop Zigong. Afraid of being falsely accused, he joined in the ruler’s murder, so the histories recorded the blame against him first.

A gentleman commented: “Goodwill without the courage to act cannot carry you far.” At first, Zajia showed goodwill by saying he could not bear to kill old livestock. But by failing to stop Zigong, he showed he lacked the courage to act. He did not truly put benevolence into practice; instead, he incurred the guilt of murdering his ruler. In truth, this disaster began when Zigong dipped his finger into the vessel and tasted the turtle.

“Racing about and hunting” means riding at speed and hunting in all directions.

The note says that “one who governs the state with the heart” comes from the second chapter of the Inner Chapters of the Zhuangzi.

Ritual regulations stipulated that the Son of Heaven and the feudal lords were to hold three hunts each year. One provided offerings for the ancestral temple; another welcomed guests and friends and strengthened friendly relations among the states; the third supplied the ruler’s table, so that his diet would accord with the season. To fail to hunt when the proper time came was considered disrespectful; to hunt out of season was considered cruel. Thus the spring hunt was called “sou,” the summer hunt “miao,” the autumn hunt “mi,” and the winter hunt “shou.” Each was held when farm work was slack, both to train the military.

Before otters began offering fish in sacrifice, nets should not be set in rivers; before jackals and wolves began offering prey in sacrifice, traps should not be laid in the countryside; before hawks and falcons began to hunt, nets should not be spread through the woods. The rites for presenting the catch as offerings should be observed, and the “benevolence of the three drives” practiced: during a hunt, animals were driven from three sides, leaving one side open for them to escape. This was to follow the proper course of the seasons. In the second month of spring, the Son of Heaven trained the troops and then held the spring hunt; in midsummer, he practiced hunting procedures and then held the summer hunt; in mid-autumn, he trained the army and then held the autumn hunt; in midwinter, he held a grand military review and then the winter hunt. The Grand Marshal, the official in charge of military affairs, coordinated these activities, while the mountain and marsh wardens each carried out their duties. The purpose was to train the military and display its readiness to the people.

If these rules were not observed, the ruler would become obsessed with hunting, killing living creatures and violating the seasons, and might remain away for a hundred days at a stretch. If he galloped and chased without cease, he would lose all restraint, the people would grow resentful, and the state would be placed in danger. Disaster would follow from violating ritual.

The injunction in the chapter “Goods Hard to Obtain” is to put aside conduct that violates the natural boundaries of things. The Zhuangzi says, “The beginning and end of things join together like a ring, and no starting point can be found. This is called the Heavenly Balance.” The Heavenly Balance is the Heavenly Limit—that is, the natural boundary of things.

Therefore, one should abandon that side and choose this one.

From the earlier discussion of a ruler’s hunting, we can see that a ruler should govern the state through wisdom and discernment, with stillness and tranquility as the foundation of the Way of governance. If he chases wild beasts across the open plains, races his chariots over steep mountains, and gallops his horses at full speed, not even a thousand armies and ten thousand cavalry could keep up. If he competes with hawks and owls in swiftness, and with bears in courage, blocking out the sun and moon with a confusion of banners, hunting until he forgets to return to the palace, and killing without restraint—so that he repeatedly suffers in storms and leaves even his palaces unoccupied—this is called reckless indulgence.

If he also prizes goods from distant lands and covets useless territory, sending troops against the Western Rong to obtain the beloved jujiang, an ancient condiment from the southwest, and waging war on Dayuan, an ancient kingdom of the Western Regions, to seize fine horses, then souls will be left stranded at the frontier passes, unable to return home, and people in border towns will suffer resentment and separation. The people throughout the realm will be driven from their homes, the population will decline, and the ancestral temples of the ruling house will nearly fall into enemy hands. These events were all recorded in the histories as warnings for later generations.

Chapter Thirteen: Favor and Disgrace

Favor and disgrace alike bring alarm.

The phrase “favor and disgrace alike bring alarm” means that although a ruler possesses the whole realm and inherits the legacy of generations of emperors, offering sacrifices to Heaven and governing all things, he should remain cautious and self-disciplined, as if handling a decaying carriage and horses, and remain deeply concerned for the people’s hardships. Only then can he enjoy enduring good fortune for the state and preserve its blessings for the long term.

When a minister receives a ruler’s favor, is repeatedly promoted and summoned, and has been granted abundant generosity, he still bears a grave responsibility if he commands the army or serves as prime minister. Even if he holds high office and surpasses Yi Yin and Gaoyao in renown, or wields greater power than Wei Qing and Huo Qubing, he should rise early and retire late, as if walking on thin ice or standing at the edge of an abyss. Only then can he preserve his good fortune and rank, and avoid calamity brought on by neglect of duty.

Thus Lingyin Zǐwén was dismissed three times from his post as chief minister of Chu and never took offense; and Zheng Kaofu, a senior official of Song, grew more humble each time he was appointed, even after receiving the appointment three times. These are examples of people who understood the principle.

Great calamity is bound up with the self.

The phrase “great calamity is bound up with the self” means that one should regard oneself as a source of great danger and treat oneself with caution. An example of someone who relied on favor to become arrogant and self-satisfied appears in the Spring and Autumn Annals under Duke Yin, year four. The prince Zhou Xu of Wei relied on the favor he had received and delighted in using military force. His minister Shi Que advised Duke Zhuang of Wei: “I have heard that to love a child is to teach him what is right.”

The fourth year of Duke Yin’s reign, as recorded in the Spring and Autumn Annals, tells how Prince Zhou Xu of Wei, relying on the favor he received, became arrogant and unruly and took pleasure in warfare. The minister Shi Que advised Duke Zhuang of Wei: “I have heard that if you care for a child, you should teach him what is right and keep him from going astray. Arrogance, extravagance, wantonness, and indulgence all lead to the wrong path. These four failings arise when favor and emoluments exceed their proper bounds. Few people can receive favor without becoming arrogant, remain humble after becoming arrogant, feel no resentment after becoming humble, and restrain themselves even when they do feel resentment.” Duke Zhuang did not heed his advice. The following year, Duke Huan took the throne, and Zhou Xu killed him. The people of Wei later killed Zhou Xu in turn. This shows that favor can bring calamity.

Chapter Fourteen: “Look, and You Do Not See It”

“These three cannot be pursued to their ultimate source, so they are blended together and brought into unity.”

The commentary says: “Yi,” “Xi,” and “Wei” are names devised to point, as best one can, to the Dao. In themselves, they cannot be seen, heard, or grasped. “These three” can also be extended to mean the Three Realms, the Three Worlds, the Three Powers, the Three Luminaries, and, within the human body, the Three Primordials and the inner Three Ones. All these are results of the Great Dao dividing and transforming vital essence and Qi to bring things into being.

The Three Realms are realms formed from the primordial Qi of the Three Treasures Lords. Their colors are blue-green, yellow, and white, and they are also called the Three Qi of Mystery, Origin, and Beginning. They are the source of the various heavens and the root of change in all things. The Three Worlds comprise the six heavens of the Realm of Desire, the eighteen heavens of the Realm of Form, and the four heavens of the Formless Realm; these are respectively governed by the Nine Immortals, Nine Perfected Ones, and Nine Sages.

The Three Primordials are three locations within the human body: the Muddy Pellet Palace in the brain governs the Upper Primordial; the Crimson Palace in the heart governs the Middle Primordial; and the Dantian below the navel governs the Lower Primordial. The Three Ones are the primordial spirits that govern these three locations, called the Primordial One, the True One, and the Orthodox One. Daoist cultivation holds that the Three Primordial Spirits can govern blended Qi, preserve Jing and Qi, nourish the spirit, and help the body endure. The Shangqing Scripture describes a method called “Whirling Wind and Blending,” which teaches the cultivation of the Three Ones.

“Cautious, as if crossing a river in winter.”

You may doubt and criticize the ancients for being wrong, but look at people today: they are often led astray by external things and lose sight of their original nature. Desires of every kind spring up. Those who seek fame and status, or chase sensual pleasures, compete to advance; those who covet great profits and possessions scramble everywhere as well. Some boil or burn living creatures for amusement; others injure and kill without restraint. They plunge into the river of desire, drift with its current, and never think to turn back. Their nature and disposition sink into waves of ceaseless wandering, never to return. This brings people suffering, and karmic retribution will also come to light.

Why does this happen? Those who are obsessed with profit and desire and travel far in pursuit of wealth may face retribution in the form of robbery on land or water. Those who bully and oppress others may invite conflict and punishment. Those who offend the ruler may be put to death and see their families ruined; those who abuse the people may bring down bandits and enemies upon themselves. More serious still are the consequences of taking life and harming oneself, even to the point of bringing a state to ruin and a family to pieces.

Those who can remain still, faithfully preserve their original nature without losing it over time, and act with composure can allow all things to grow gradually.

There are many methods of cultivation. Here are a few broad examples: breathing exercises to regulate the breath and take in the primordial Qi of Heaven and Earth; swallowing and rinsing the mouth with the “cloud liquid,” the term for bodily fluids cultivated in these practices; eating pine and cypress, or abstaining from the five grains and consuming lingzhi mushrooms. Some cultivate in seclusion, paying homage to Shangqing, the pure celestial realm revered in Daoism, while secretly observing the Dark Dipper, the Northern Dipper constellation. Others refine the five metals and eight minerals, jade water and flowing pearls; set up Yin cauldrons and Yang furnaces; and carry out the Five Blossoms and Nine Revolutions, stages in repeatedly refining the substances used in alchemy. Some use plain-script elixir registers, issue summons to call forth ghosts and spirits, and swear an oath before Heaven and Earth with golden clasps and blue silk. These methods belong to Daoist traditions such as Zhengyi, Daode, Shengxuan, Dongshen, and Lingbao. They also include rites of covenant with the Three Pure Ones (Sanqing), alongside many other methods that emerged in profusion.

Among those who ascend the ranks of the Dao, attain a spiritual grade, and rise to become immortals, there are also methods for hastening toward the paired lights of the sun and moon; paying homage to the Five Stars, the celestial bodies of the five directions; climbing by way of the celestial pole to the Northern Dipper’s bowl; flying across Xingji; swallowing the sun and moon; subduing the Po and gathering in the Hun. Other methods include the Eight Paths of Gazing toward the Clouds, the Nine Perfected Ones’ Reception of Duties, Lying among the Dipper Stars to Ascend the Mystery, the Grotto Chamber of Fangzhu, the Left and Right Spirit Flights, Yin-Yang and the Six Jia, the Three Departments and Eight Radiances, and the Twenty-Four Perfected Ones. Practitioners visualize and consume the Qi of the Three Origins, focus on contemplating the Three Ones—the threefold divine presence within the body—and envision the Purple Chamber and Yellow Palace, the Crimson Radiance and Vermilion Infant. They practice the texts of Purple Emptiness and Southern Mount Heng, and the formulas of the Azure Lad of the Eastern Sea. They may also observe the five internal organs, subdue the Six Heavens—the ghosts and spirits of Daoist belief—practice daoyin exercises, swallow talismans, ride the winds and Qi, and nurture primordial Qi. Methods for soaring aloft and ascending are widely recorded in the true scriptures of Daoism.

Commentary on the Dao De Jing, Imperially Composed by Emperor Xuanzong of Tang, Volume One

Commentary on the Dao De Jing, Imperially Composed by Emperor Xuanzong of Tang, Volume Two

Chapter Sixteen: “Attaining the Utmost Emptiness”

Attain the utmost degree of emptiness and stillness; hold fast to serenity without wavering.

The commentary explains: Water flows toward what is damp, and fire burns toward what is dry. This is the principle expressed in the line for the ninth line of the fifth place in the Qian hexagram of the Book of Changes. It is also reflected in the episode known as “Issuing a Challenge to Battle” in the Spring and Autumn Annals.

The Spring and Autumn Annals records that in the twelfth year of Duke Xuan of Lu, King Zhuang of Chu laid siege to the state of Zheng. After seventeen days, Zheng divined whether it should sue for peace. The result was inauspicious, and the people were deeply distressed. King Zhuang withdrew his army for a time, so Zheng began repairing its defenses. The Chu army then besieged Zheng for another three months and finally captured the city. The Earl of Zheng removed his shirt and led a sheep to welcome King Zhuang. Chu later agreed to make peace with Zheng. Pan Yao then swore an oath with Zheng, which sent Ziliang to Chu as a hostage.

In the sixth month of that year, the Jin army came to relieve Zheng and reached the area around Ao and Hao. King Zhuang therefore sought peace with Jin, and the two sides had already agreed on a date for their oath. The Chu army sent Xubo to drive the chariot, Lebo to shoot arrows, and Sheshu to serve as the right-hand warrior. They went out to challenge Jin, pretending to reject peace in order to draw the Jin army into battle.

Xubo said, “I have heard that the left-hand charioteer assigned to challenge the enemy should drive around its camp and then return.” Lebo said, “I have heard that the challenger should shoot from the left, then take the reins from the driver, drive away, turn the two horses side by side, and return.” Sheshu said, “I have heard that the right-hand warrior assigned to challenge the enemy should enter its camp, cut off the ears of the enemy dead, take prisoners, and then return.” Each of the three followed the method he had heard and came back. The Jin army then pursued them. From the chariot, Lebo shot at the horses with his left hand and at the men with his right. The Jin army gave chase but could not advance. At the time, Wei Qi and Zhao Zhan were at odds with Jin and volunteered to serve as envoys to Chu; both hoped that Jin would be defeated. The Jin commander Zhizi had also failed to prepare adequately, so the Jin army suffered a crushing defeat in the battle at Bi. This shows that sending out challengers can indeed draw an enemy army into battle.

“I observe how things return” means: through this, I observe how things return to their original state.

The commentary cites the Book of Changes: “Thunder within the earth: Return.” This is the image of the Return hexagram. Thunder represents activity, and the Return hexagram focuses on the transition between movement and stillness; hence the phrase “thunder within the earth.” On the day of the winter solstice, ancient kings closed the passes to merchants and travelers and did not tour the regions. In this way, they followed the principle that all things become still and recover their roots.

“Not knowing constancy.”

The commentary says this relates to the third nine line statement of the Constancy hexagram in the Book of Changes: “Unable to maintain his virtue over time.”

“Great and High: Chapter Seventeen” is the title of this chapter.

Some people revered him, while others despised and bullied him.

The “Three Kings and Five Hegemons” mentioned in the commentary refers to the rulers of the three dynasties of Xia, Shang, and Zhou, and to those who dominated the feudal lords during the Spring and Autumn period. The three dynasties were Xia, Shang, and Zhou. Among the Five Hegemons were Kunwu of the Xia dynasty; Dapeng and Shiwei of the Shang dynasty; and Duke Huan of Qi and Duke Wen of Jin, among others, of the Zhou dynasty. Duke Huan of Qi, whose personal name was Xiaobai, was a son of Duke Xi of Qi by a secondary consort. He was active during the reigns of King Hui and King Xiang of Zhou. Duke Wen of Jin, whose personal name was Chong’er, was a son of Duke Xian of Jin. He once went into exile to escape the disaster brought on by Li Ji, and later ascended the throne in the twenty-second year of Duke Xi of Lu.

When trustworthiness is lacking, people will lose their trust.

The Spring and Autumn Annals records that in the eleventh year of Duke Xuan of Lu, the state of Chu attacked Zheng. Ziliang, a senior official of Zheng, said that neither Chu nor Jin was committed to virtue. Since Chu had arrived, Zheng would do better to submit to it; neither Jin nor Chu was trustworthy, so how could Zheng alone remain faithful? Zheng therefore turned to follow Chu. In the summer of that year, Zheng made an alliance with the king of Chu at Chenling, and Chen and Zheng also submitted. This is an example of how a lack of trustworthiness leads others to act without trustworthiness as well.

Only after the Great Dao has been abandoned do people speak of benevolence and righteousness. Only after wisdom appears does great deceit arise. Only when relations among family members become discordant do people make a special point of proclaiming filial devotion and compassion. Only when a state is in confusion do so-called loyal ministers appear.

The commentary uses the phrases “counting grains of rice while cooking” and “sorting hairs while combing” to describe trivial, excessive efforts. Counting each grain of rice to prepare a meal and picking through one’s hair to comb it are painstaking, complicated practices that miss the point. The Huainanzi says that such excessive striving is like scratching one’s back with one’s knees or undoing a knot with one’s heels: futile and ill-suited to the task.

The section on “filial devotion and compassion” tells the story of fanning the pillow in summer and warming the mat in winter. In the Song dynasty, a man named Zhi Bao, courtesy name Xiaochang, lost his father when he was three. His paternal uncles were all prominent, and whenever he saw them, he would weep. His mother, Lady Chen, thought he was afraid of his uncles and scolded him. Zhi Bao explained that he was only sad because he had been too young to remember his father. Now, when he saw his uncles, they reminded him of his father, and his heart filled with sorrow, so he wept. His mother wept with him. Zhi Bao served his mother with great care: in summer he fanned her pillow and mat to cool them, and in winter he warmed her bed and mat.

The section on “loyal ministers” explains: daring to speak frankly and offer upright advice is called loyalty; currying favor and flattering others is called sycophancy; failing to understand what is right is called confusion; and disorder between ruler and subject, together with neglected government, is called chaos.

Many worthy ministers at the imperial court were talents like Kui and Long. They brought order to human relationships and social norms; all they did was govern the state.

The commentary says this sentence draws on the meaning of the Book of Songs: “So many worthy men—King Wen found peace.” King Wen had many worthy ministers, and the state was therefore peaceful. Kui and Long were ministers who assisted Shun. Kui oversaw ritual and music, making the many instruments play in harmony as the animals danced to the music. Long served as the officer who received and relayed the ruler’s commands. “The human norms were put in order” means that proper relationships and social principles were arranged as they should be. The passage says that Shun appointed capable and worthy people and followed established laws, so affairs of state were well governed.

Chapter 19: Cut Off Sagacity and Abandon Knowledge

“Cut off cleverness and discard profit.” This means abandoning contrivance and the desire for gain.

The commentary cites a story from the Liezi: someone in the state of Wei carved a date pit into the shape of a monkey, while someone in the state of Song carved a leaf from the paper mulberry tree until it looked real. Such displays of skill can all be set aside.

Chapter 20: Be Free of Learning and Without Worry

“How vast it is—seemingly without end.” This describes a spacious, desolate state that appears to have no limit.

The commentary gives “the night is not yet over” from “The Court Lanterns” in the Minor Odes of the Book of Songs as an example. “Not yet over” means that something has not come to an end and seems endless.

“The people are merry and excited, as if feasting at a grand sacrificial banquet, as if climbing a terrace in spring.” This describes a crowd in lively celebration, as though enjoying an abundant ritual feast or going up to a terrace to admire the spring scenery.

The commentary depicts people immersed in wealth and splendor: they wear several official seals at their waists and are summoned by the authorities. When one of them grows angry, the feudal lords tremble; when he sits calmly without moving, all under Heaven is at peace. Satisfied with themselves, they enjoy their present glory and riches, dine from rows of bronze cauldrons, savor the generous portions of sacrificial meat, and delight in the blossoming flowers, as though sightseeing from a terrace in spring.

Six seals hung from his belt, and the five offices opened one after another. When he grew angry, the feudal lords all trembled; when he sat quietly without moving, all under Heaven settled into peace. Suddenly, the splendor around him came to satisfy his heart, and his life of wealth and rank let him savor every pleasure of the time. He had food piled high on five cauldrons, yet tired of the lavish flavors of a grand sacrificial feast of ox, sheep, and pig. Flowers and grasses delighted him, and he also enjoyed climbing the Terrace of Spring to gaze into the distance. There were even beauties from Yan and Luoyang, dances from Chu, and songs from Wu. All kinds of music deafened the ears, while the five colors confused the mind. This was indeed pleasurable—but what could it ultimately amount to?

The Book of Ritual: Vessels says, “In offering a grand sacrifice, it is not necessary to say much.” This means that offerings should accord with a person’s status and needs. The same text says that feudal lords used seven sacrificial sets and grandees used five. This is why the Spring and Autumn Annals records that the state of Wu demanded a hundred sacrificial sets from Lu. Ox, sheep, and pig together are called the “three sacrificial animals.” The ox was used for sacrifice: the Son of Heaven used a sacrificial ox, meaning one of a single, uniform color; feudal lords used a fattened sheep; and grandees used an ox brought to them, taking whatever was available without choosing. The ox was also called the “great martial beast” or the “single primary animal.” Before a sacrifice, it had to be kept in an enclosure and fed for three months according to prescribed rules, so it would be ready when needed. The Zuo Commentary records that a mouse gnawed the horn of an ox intended for the suburban sacrifice, so another animal was chosen by divination.

The sheep was called “soft-fleeced.” The Son of Heaven used sheep in rites at the ancestral temple, including the blood-anointing rite, the opening of the ice stores, and the monthly announcement of the new moon. Eating wheat and mutton in the first month of spring is another related example. Pigs were used in the Son of Heaven’s various sacrifices to complete the set of three sacrificial animals. By rank, the ox was called the “great sacrificial animal,” the sheep the “middle sacrificial animal,” and the pig the “lesser sacrificial animal”; the pig was also called the “stiff-bristled animal.” Ritual rules stipulated that the Son of Heaven could not slaughter an ox without special cause, and that a grandee could not slaughter a dog or pig without special cause. These animals were all intended for sacrifice; slaughtering one without a ritual occasion was called doing so “without cause.” A “pen” was an enclosure for keeping sacrificial animals, named for its strong walls on all sides; the word later came to refer to sacrificial animals in general.

The commentary cites, “Spring days linger; they gather the chickweed in great numbers,” to explain this. “Gathering chickweed” refers to picking chickweed or similar mugwort-like plants; “in great numbers” means that there are many.

Like an infant who has not yet learned to laugh.

The commentary says, “Before (an infant) grows old enough to laugh, it begins to cry.” The annotation says that the Zhuangzi, in “Heaven’s Movement,” mentions “gathering fan.” Fan is the white mugwort gathered when silkworms are born; “qiqi” describes something abundant.

“Like an infant who is not yet able to laugh.”

The commentary also says that three months after birth, an infant’s eyes begin to move, and it can then see; at eight months, its teeth grow in, and it can eat; at one year, its kneecaps develop, and it can walk; by the age of three, its mouth is fully developed, and it can speak.

Chapter Twenty-Two: “Bent, Yet Whole”

What is bent can be preserved; what is oppressed can be made straight.

The commentary quotes the Spring and Autumn Annals: “To set right what is bent is called straightening it.” The annotation gives Lian Po and Lin Xiangru as examples.

The annotation explains that in the winter of the seventh year of Duke Xiang of Lu, in the tenth month, Han Jue, a high official of Jin, retired due to old age. His son Han Wuji had a disability and would ordinarily have succeeded him, but Han Wuji declined, saying, “The Book of Songs says, ‘Do we not wish to work diligently from morning to evening? It is only that the road is covered in dew.’ It also says, ‘If one does not do the work oneself, the people will not trust one.’ I lack the ability; how could I take on this position? Please appoint Han Qi instead.”

When Han Wuji was in the company of Tian Su, Tian Su said that he valued benevolence. The Book of Songs also says, “Reverently keep to your position and cherish the Way of uprightness; when the spirits hear this, they will grant you great blessings.” Caring for the people is Virtue; setting one’s own heart straight is putting oneself right; correcting the wrongs of others and bringing them back to what is right is setting others right. Only when all three—Virtue, putting oneself right, and setting others right—are present can one be said to possess complete Virtue. Then the spirits will naturally hear and bestow blessings. Was it not fitting to appoint Han Qi as successor? So Han Jue sent Han Qi to pay him a formal visit and officially requested leave to retire. The ruler of Jin considered Han Wuji benevolent and appointed him as an official in charge of the royal clan.

Hold fast to the One (the Dao), and it can serve as the standard for all under Heaven.

The annotation says: If a state has three ministers governing together, it will naturally be difficult to govern. If nine people herd ten sheep, how could they manage them as one flock? The one who lost the sheep did so because there were too many forks in the road; the one who lost his life did so because there were too many affairs.

Those who are one with the Dao may temporarily lose something, but in the end they will gain something.

Things in the world often respond to one another because they are alike, correspond to one another, or influence one another. Play the note gong, and the gong note answers; play the note jue, and the jue note echoes it. This is resonance between sounds. When a withered mulberry tree sways, a wind arises; when rain is about to fall in hot weather, the foundation stones of a house grow damp. These are responses between vital energies. When a dragon sings, clouds rise; when a tiger roars, the wind gathers. These are responses between living things and inanimate things. When a copper mountain collapses, a copper bell far away also rings out. This is a response between things of the same kind. When the ash in a reed tube used to mark the winter solstice is disturbed, the halos around the sun and moon also change. This is a response between things. When a crane calls, its young answer. This is a response born of shared nature. Accumulating good deeds brings blessings; accumulating evil deeds invites calamity. This is a response between actions and their consequences. When people cross a river together in one boat, even Hu and Yue people do not suspect one another because their intentions differ. Their shared circumstances make them depend on one another. Water flows toward damp places, and fire tends toward dry ones. This is a response between inanimate things. A gentleman may be a thousand miles away and still share the same customs; petty people may be separated by only a field ridge and yet have different customs.

The Fangzhu was an implement used in ancient times to collect water. It is said that in the Eastern Sea there lived a large clam, about one chi and two cun long, called Fangzhu. One took its shell, rubbed it repeatedly with soft silk, then exposed it to moonlight and held a vessel beneath it to collect the water. The Yangsui was a fire mirror used to kindle fire. Because ancient sacrifices required purity, people used the Fangzhu to collect water and the Yangsui to kindle fire.

Chapter Twenty-Four, “Those Who Rise on Tiptoe Do Not Stand Firm,” says: “Those who boast of themselves cannot establish merit.”

The Spring and Autumn Annals records that in the twenty-ninth year of Duke Xiang of Lu, the state of Qi exiled its high official Gao Zhi to Northern Yan. The Zuo Commentary on the Spring and Autumn Annals says that Gao Zhi liked to claim credit for things as his own, and…

The text here cites an account from the twenty-ninth year of Duke Xiang in the Spring and Autumn Annals: the state of Qi exiled its minister Gao Zhi to Northern Yan. The commentary says that Gao Zhi liked to claim credit for everything and act arbitrarily, and so brought disaster upon himself.

It also cites an account from the second year of Duke Ai in the Spring and Autumn Annals: Zhao Jianzi was at war with the state of Zheng when Zheng forces attacked him. He crouched inside his chariot and even lost the bee-patterned banner, a military flag. Gongsun Long led five hundred men to his rescue, raided the Zheng troops at night, and recovered the banner. The Zheng army was routed. After the battle, Jianzi said, “I crouched inside the chariot, bleeding without end, yet the sound of the war drums never weakened. That was my greatest achievement today.” Ju, the heir of Wei, who served as the chariot’s right-hand guard, said, “I protected the commander in the chariot and drove back the enemy on foot. I was the finest right-hand guard.” The driver Xie Liang said, “I steadied both sides of the chariot and held the middle of the rail. When the formation was about to collapse, I held it together. In skill at driving, I was the finest.” This shows that Jianzi was unwilling to yield credit, so his subordinates each boasted of their own achievements and could not live in harmony.

“Leftover food and excessive conduct” means scraps of food and superfluous behavior. The Dao De Jing holds that everyone despises such things, so a person who follows the Dao does not treat them as worthy pursuits.

The commentary cites the Spring and Autumn Annals: “People will refuse to eat what I leave behind.”

The text here cites an account from the sixth year of Duke Zhuang in the Spring and Autumn Annals: King Wen of Chu was attacking the state of Shen and passed through the state of Deng on the way. The Marquis of Deng, Qi, called King Wen his nephew and kept him as a guest, hosting a banquet in his honor. Three of the marquis’s nephews—Diao Sheng, Dan Sheng, and Yang Sheng—urged him to kill King Wen. The Marquis of Deng refused. The three said, “This man is sure to destroy Deng. If we do not eliminate him now, it will be too late to regret it later. This is our chance.” The marquis replied, “If I did that, people would refuse to eat what I left behind.” He meant that he believed killing his own nephew would make people despise him. The three answered, “If you do not listen to us, the ancestral rites of Deng will cease. What leftover food will you have to leave anyone then?” The Marquis of Deng still would not listen. After King Wen of Chu returned from attacking Shen, he went on to attack Deng. In the sixteenth year of Duke Zhuang, Chu attacked Deng again and destroyed it.

Chapter 25: There is something formed as a unified whole, arising naturally.

“I do not know what to call it.”

“I do not know its name” (I do not know what it is called).

For things, sometimes a “name” is given first, and a “style name” later. In ancient ritual, when a boy was three days old, his family made a bow from mulberry wood and arrows from mugwort stalks, then shot one arrow toward each of the four quarters and toward Heaven and Earth, signifying that he would one day undertake responsibilities in all directions. When the child was three months old, his mother carried him to meet his father. The father took the child’s right hand, gave him a name, and touched his head. A man received a style name only after undergoing the capping ceremony at twenty, marking his adulthood; a woman received one after the hairpin ceremony at fifteen. A style name expressed respect, so that one need not address a person directly by their given name. At the capping ceremony, the cap was changed three times, from a black cloth cap to a leather cap and then a ceremonial cap, signifying a gradual rise in status and ritual standing.

The Spring and Autumn Annals records that in the sixth year of Duke Huan of Lu, the duke asked Shen Xu how one should name a child. Shen Xu said there were five methods: naming a child according to the circumstances of birth, called “sign”; naming one according to virtue, called “meaning”; naming one after something resembling the child, called “likeness”; borrowing the name of an object, called “borrowed name”; and choosing a name connected with the father, called “relation.” For example, the names of Tang Shuyu and the Duke of Lu’s son You related to the circumstances of their births. King Wen was named Chang and King Wu was named Fa, following their virtues. Confucius’s appearance resembled Mount Ni, so he was named after the mountain. When Confucius’s son was born, someone presented a fish, and he was therefore named Li, meaning “carp.” Duke Huan of Lu’s son was born on the same day as his father, so he was named Tong, meaning “same.”

There were also taboos in naming. One should not use the name of a state, lest it cease to be reserved for that state; nor an official title, lest the title lose its proper function; nor the name of a mountain or river, lest the object of sacrifice become confused; nor the name of a sacrificial animal, lest it affect rites to the soil deity; nor the name of a ritual vessel or item of wealth, lest it interfere with the ritual order. One should also avoid naming a child after something obscure or hard to identify, since a name would eventually become a form of address that had to be avoided out of respect. In ancient times, the states of Jin and Song changed official titles to avoid the names of their former rulers, and Lu altered a mountain’s name for the same reason. Thus, great and important things were unsuitable as names.

A “clan name” was a designation for a family. The Spring and Autumn Annals records that after Gongzi Wuhai of Lu died, Gongzi Yufu asked that he be given a posthumous title and that a clan name be established for him. Zhong Zhong replied that the Son of Heaven bestowed surnames according to virtue and established clan names from fiefs; the feudal lords could use an ancestor’s style name or posthumous title as a clan name; an official post held with distinction across generations could also become a clan name, as could the name of a fief. Duke Huan of Lu therefore permitted Wuhai to take “Zhan,” the style name of his ancestor, Gongzi Zhan, as his clan name. His descendants became the Zhan clan.

Earlier, it was said that in ordinary human rites a name came first and a style name afterward; here, by contrast, it says that in the Way of Heaven the “style name” came first and the “name” afterward. This is meant to show that the Dao has neither a fixed beginning nor an end.

When the “great” reaches its utmost, it travels far and spreads abroad.

The Zhuangzi says, “The Dao lies within vastness, yet it has no end” (chapter “The Course of Heaven”). The “king” is one who dwells within it.

When a king follows the Dao, the movements of the sun and moon are harmonious, as if two jade discs had joined, and the Five Planets align in a connected pattern. Sweet dew descends, and sweet springs well up. The Yellow River does not flood, and the sea remains calm. The auspicious Star of Excellence appears, clouds of good fortune rise, and divine dragons roam through ponds and marshes. Qilin and phoenixes come to the courtyard. The four seasons are in harmony, creating a clear and gentle atmosphere. All things fulfill their natures, and peace and order prevail throughout the realm.

When a king does not follow the Dao, the seasons and heavenly patterns fall out of order, bringing down calamities and strange portents. Things on earth, too, take on uncanny forms, while people turn away from De and turmoil follows. Calamitous influences and ill omens sometimes appear in the heavens, while strange phenomena suddenly manifest on earth: stars disappear; the Dipper is visible by day; thunder sounds in winter and frost falls in summer; the sky splits open and stones sprout; rivers dry up and mountains collapse. These disasters are set in motion by human affairs and resonate with celestial phenomena, bringing calamity upon Heaven and Earth alike.

Human beings take Earth as their model and ultimately return to nature.

The commentary explains that this passage speaks of blocking calamity at its source and pulling out the problem by its roots.

The Commentary on Meaning cites an account in the ninth year of Duke Zhao in the Spring and Autumn Annals: Liang Bing and Zhang Ti of Jin led the Yin Rong to attack Ying. This account is used here to show that human affairs resonate with Heaven and bring calamity upon Heaven and Earth.

This passage draws on events recorded under the ninth year of Duke Zhao in the Spring and Autumn Annals. Liang Bing and Zhang Ti of Jin led the Yin Rong in an attack on Ying. The conflict arose because the people of Gan, serving the Zhou royal house, and Yan Jia of Jin were disputing Yan lands.

King Jing of Zhou sent his minister Zhan Huanbo to Jin to make the royal house’s case. He said: “Since the Xia dynasty, the descendants of Hou Ji have established their roots here. Wei, Chi, Rui, Qi, and Bi lie within Zhou’s western borders; Ba, Pu, Chu, and Deng lie to the south. After King Wu of Zhou overthrew the Shang, Pugu and Shangyan belonged to the eastern territories, while Sushen, Yan, and Bo belonged to the north. How can the Zhou domain be called small? Kings Wen, Wu, Cheng, and Kang enfeoffed their brothers and other kinsmen so they would shield the royal house. If those lords decline and fail in their duties, that is what brings us to the present situation. How can their states be treated as mere ornaments, like a cap with a ceremonial plume?”

“The former kings settled unruly peoples in remote regions on the four borders to keep out the mountain spirits and demons known as chimei. The Yunxing Rong originally lived in Guazhou. Later, when your uncle Duke Hui returned from Qin, he brought them here, placing them near the Zhou lords who share the royal surname, and even allowing them into the outskirts of the royal domain. If the Rong occupy the Central Plains, is that not Jin’s fault? Hou Ji once laid the foundations of the Zhou house throughout the realm. Now the Rong are being allowed to control its lands. How could this fail to cause concern? If Jin lays siege to Zhou territory, our royal house is to Jin as a crown is to clothing, as roots are to a tree, as a river’s source is to its flow, and as a trusted adviser is to the people. If your uncle destroys the crown, tears out the roots, blocks the source, and casts off the adviser, how could the Rong and Di alone be the ones who would refuse to tolerate Jin?”

Shu Xiang said to Xuanzi, Jin’s chief minister: “When Duke Wen of Jin held the hegemony, could he have changed the rites of the Zhou royal house? He only assisted and honored the Son of Heaven, and treated him with respect. Since Duke Wen’s time, the virtue of Jin’s rulers has steadily declined. They have grown arrogant and slighted the Zhou house, using this to display their own extravagance. Is it any wonder that the lords have begun to harbor divided loyalties? Besides, the Zhou king’s argument is sound. You should consider it carefully.”

Xuanzi took this advice. Just then, a relative by marriage of the Zhou king died, so Xuanzi sent Zhao Cheng to Zhou to offer condolences. He returned Yan lands, presented clothing to assist with the funeral, and sent back the captives from Ying. The Zhou king, in turn, sent Bin Hua to seize Xiang, the minister of Gan, and deliver him to Jin as a gesture of reconciliation. The people of Jin treated him with courtesy and later sent him home.

Chapter 26: The Heavy Is the Root of the Light

The heavy is the foundation of the light.

The line statement of the Initial Nine in the Yijing’s Nourishment Hexagram says “gaping for food,” describing someone opening their mouth to seek food and eating eagerly. Speaking and chewing both engage the cheeks and mouth. A junzi observes the image of the Nourishment Hexagram and so speaks with care and restrains their eating.

“Though there are splendid sights” means that even when the scenery is magnificent and grand.

The commentary’s phrase “lofty terraces and deep ponds” refers to tall pavilions and broad, deep pools.

Yanzi cited an incident from the Spring and Autumn Annals to remonstrate with Duke Jing of Qi. The duke was suffering from a long illness that would not respond to treatment. The ministers Liangqiu Ju and Yikuan said to him, “We have made generous offerings to the spirits and observed all the proper rites for our former rulers. Now that you are ill and the lords are concerned for you, the fault lies with the prayer officers and the court historians. If you do not punish them, and use this explanation when guests come to inquire after your health, the lords will think you do not revere the spirits.”

Duke Jing was pleased to hear this and told Yanzi what they had said. Yanzi replied that once, at an alliance meeting in Song, the Chu minister Qu Jian had asked Zhao Wu, a minister of Jin, about Fan Hui’s virtue. Zhao Wu answered, “Fan Hui governed his household well. When deliberating on affairs in Jin, he gave his whole attention to them and pursued no private advantage. His prayer officers and court historians spoke truthfully when making offerings, and had nothing on their consciences. There was no suspicion or resentment in his household, so his prayer officers and court historians had no need to ask anything of the spirits.” Qu Jian reported this to King Kang of Chu, who said, “Neither the spirits nor the people had any grievance against him. No wonder Fan Hui was able to serve five rulers and become leader among the lords.” The “five rulers” here are Dukes Wen, Xiang, Ling, Cheng, and Jing.

Duke Jing asked Yanzi, “Liangqiu Ju and Yikuan say that I serve the spirits well, and so the prayer officers and court historians should be punished. What do you mean by telling me this story?”

Yanzi replied, “A virtuous ruler acts with integrity, both within the state and beyond it. There is no resentment above or below, and his conduct does not violate what is right. The prayer officers and court historians present truthful offerings, with clear consciences. The spirits therefore accept the offerings, the state receives blessings, and the prayer officers and court historians benefit as well. They can increase the state’s good fortune and prolong the ruler’s life because they serve a ruler of integrity, and what they say to the spirits is faithful and true.

“But suppose the ruler is debauched and without virtue: the court and the state are both corrupt, there is resentment above and below, and his conduct is perverse. He indulges his desires and satisfies his private appetites, builds lofty terraces and deep pools, rings bells and plays music, and amuses himself with dancing women. He exhausts the people’s labor and takes their wealth to satisfy his extravagance, without regard for future generations. The ruler is violent and unrestrained, acting as he pleases, heedless of the people’s complaints and showing no reverence for the spirits. The divine powers are enraged and the people suffer, yet he feels no remorse. If the prayer officers and court historians then speak truthfully in their offerings, they are laying out the ruler’s crimes. If they conceal his faults and exaggerate his virtues, they deceive the spirits. If, at a loss for what to say, they fall silent, they offer empty words to curry favor. The spirits therefore reject the offerings and instead bring calamity upon the state. The prayer officers and court historians are implicated too: they serve a tyrant, and speak arrogantly and falsely to the spirits.”

Duke Jing asked, “Then what should be done?”

Yanzi replied, “These things cannot be allowed to continue unchecked. The trees in the mountains and forests are guarded by the Henglu; the birds, beasts, and rushes around the lakes and marshes by the Zhoujiao; the firewood in the wetlands by the Yuhou; and the salt and shellfish of the sea by the Qiwang. People from the counties and towns who come into the city on business are still harassed by oppressive rule. Checkpoints are set up along the main routes, where officials seize the chance to extort wealth. Hereditary ministers forcibly take the people’s property. Market fees have no fixed rates, and taxes are levied without limit. Palaces are renovated day after day, while indulgence and pleasure go unchecked. Favored concubines seize whatever they please in the marketplace, and favored ministers overstep their authority and issue orders to the villages and towns. Demands to satisfy private desires never end, and when the people cannot provide what is wanted, they are forced to find some way to cope. The people are destitute, and husbands and wives alike curse the ruler.

“If curses have power and prayers can bring benefit, then curses can also bring harm. East of Liao and She, and west of Gu and You, there are countless people. No matter how devoutly the prayer officers pray, how could they withstand the resentment and curses of so many thousands upon thousands? If you wish to punish the prayer officers and court historians, you must first cultivate your virtue and improve your government.”

Duke Jing was pleased to hear this. He ordered the officials responsible to relax the laws, remove the checkpoints and abolish the prohibitions, reduce taxes, and forgive outstanding arrears. In the twelfth month, Duke Jing went hunting at Pei. The commentary at the end of the classic explains that this was the benefit of Yanzi’s remonstrance: Duke Jing followed his advice, cultivated his virtue, and improved his governance. His illness soon passed, and he was able to go hunting.

“People who are good are teachers to those who are not good” means that people of good character can guide those whose character is poor.

The commentary explains the way of the teacher through the ancient rites of honoring teachers. Even when the Son of Heaven received instruction from a teacher, he did not sit facing north in his capacity as ruler. Instead, he stood respectfully according to ritual, showing deference to the teacher. When a student is eager to learn, the teacher can teach with little effort and the student gains much. When a student is not eager to learn, the teacher must work hard, yet the student gains little and may even blame the teacher.

The commentary then tells the story of King Wu of Zhou and Taigong Wang, known as the Venerable Master Shangfu. King Wu stood respectfully according to ritual, while Master Shangfu faced west and instructed him in the principles found in Daoist writings. Thus, even though a ruler is a ruler and a father, he should still honor his teacher. A teacher does not belong to the Five Mourning Grades—the ancient system that distinguished degrees of kinship through mourning attire—yet should still be treated with closeness and respect. This is the way of the teacher.

“Though they know, they are greatly confused” means that even when people believe they understand, they may in fact be deeply confused.

The general meaning is that beginners on the path must understand ten things.

First, those who have just entered the Dao must begin with the wish to do good and the resolve to seek the Dao; only then can they continue forward. Second, they should draw close to good companions, letting them offer guidance and strengthen their faith in the correct path. Third, they should seek out an enlightened teacher. Such a teacher possesses subtle methods, can teach them widely, and can point out the essentials of practice. Fourth, after hearing the correct teachings, they should be able to receive, read, and recite them. Fifth, they should be able to leave home and devote themselves to practicing the Dao of softness and weakness, long abstaining from deliberate action and freeing themselves from every kind of constraint. Sixth, they should accept the correct precepts, using them to discipline and guard their body, speech, and mind. Seventh, they should withdraw to the mountains and forests and practice alone, far from worldly noise and bustle, cultivating a tranquil aspiration. Eighth, they should constantly call the Great Dao to mind. The Great Dao is the true king of the teachings, able to guide living beings across the sea of birth and death, like a boatman rescuing the drowning. Ninth, they should constantly call the scriptures and teachings to mind. These are like subtle medical prescriptions, able to teach living beings the right methods for treating afflictions. Tenth, they should constantly call the correct Dharma to mind. It is like a true parent, able to bring forth and nurture one’s Dharma body and wisdom life—that is, the body of Dharma-nature and the life of wisdom attained through cultivation of the Dao.

Taking these ten foundations of practice as the initial ground—the first stage of cultivation—one then practices, in sequence, the Lesser Vehicle’s methods for subduing afflictions through gentleness, proceeds to cultivate the Middle Vehicle’s teachings as well, and finally enters the Great Vehicle’s contemplation and practice.

Chapter Twenty-Nine: “When One Wishes to Take All Under Heaven”

When one wishes to take all under Heaven and govern it.

Rulers throughout the world often displayed extraordinary auspicious signs at birth. Fuxi was born where he stepped into the footprint of a giant; the Flame Emperor was born through a divine dragon’s response; when the Yellow Emperor was born, lightning circled the Northern Dipper; and at the birth of Shaohao, starlight flowed like a rainbow. Zhuanxu and Emperor Ku were naturally wise and sagely; Tang Yao and Yu Shun, too, possessed remarkable talents and appearances. When Yao was born, a red dragon appeared; Shun embodied the virtue of Earth, and a rainbow glow marked his birth as auspicious; when Yu received the Mandate, there was a sign in the moon’s essence; and tradition says that Tang was born after a swallow carried an egg. When Liu Bang, founder of the Han, rose to power at Dangshan, purple Qi enveloped the place; and at the founding of the Han dynasty, a red glow illuminated the sky. All these were extraordinary auspicious signs manifesting in human beings.

The Yellow Emperor accumulated profound, mysterious De and thereby received the Mandate of Heaven. Zhuanxu took up the work of the sages before him, and the signs of his Mandate were confirmed. Tradition says that seventeen generations of the Shang ancestors passed before they founded the Yin-Shang dynasty; thirteen generations passed among the descendants of Hou Ji before King Wen of Zhou rose to prominence. These examples show that prosperity comes only after generations have accumulated achievement.

Those who stubbornly try to hold on to something ultimately lose it.

The main idea is this: After a ruler inherits the throne and receives the Mandate of Heaven, if he does not govern through Virtue but instead spreads harm throughout the realm, so that his orders can no longer be carried out and armies take up arms against one another within the country, the realm will fall into chaos. At such a time, a true ruler who responds to the moment will rise to save the people, quell the turmoil, and restore the right way. Yu of Xia, Tang of Yin, King Wu of Zhou, and Gaozu of Han were all rulers who founded dynasties.

Once the realm was at peace, the throne passed to their descendants. The succeeding rulers inherited the work of their forebears and upheld the established institutions. Jie of Xia, Zhou of Yin, King Nan of Zhou, and Emperor Xian of Han were all rulers who inherited the throne.

Founding rulers often relied on their high Virtue to correct faults and make up for deficiencies. They promoted virtuous and benevolent government, welcomed people who had withdrawn from public life, and sought out accounts of the people’s hardships. For this reason, they rarely fell into ruin soon after first gaining the throne: they governed diligently and worked hard to achieve good results. Succeeding rulers, by contrast, might know nothing of farming, having grown up from childhood in the care of women and lived within the inner palace. Music and sensual pleasures unsettled their minds, while fine clothes and licentious music made them indulgent. Some waged wars without restraint, spreading harm across the land. They treated the people as enemies or as mere weeds, killing at the slightest pretext. They disregarded the laws and violated the right way and the order of Heaven, harming the spirits and the people.

Thus, wars broke out everywhere, and floods and droughts followed one another. The spirits were enraged, the people lost heart, ghosts and spirits grieved, and the people seethed with resentment. In the end, Jie of Xia was driven into exile at Nanchao, and the Shang king Zhou was defeated and died at Muye. A ruler might die among the people, or lose his power and fall into the hands of a treacherous strongman. Once a great foundation is lost, it can never be regained. This shows that a ruler who cannot uphold the right way will lose the realm, and that later rulers should take this as a warning.

“Promote Virtue and put an end to violations of ritual propriety” comes from an account in the Spring and Autumn Annals. In the second year of Duke Huan of Lu, Hua Du of Song killed Kong Jiafu and assassinated Duke Shang of Song, then installed Prince Feng as ruler, making him Duke Zhuang of Song. Hua Du presented a tripod from the state of Gao as a bribe to Duke Huan of Lu, who placed it in the ancestral temple. The minister Zang Aibo remonstrated: “A ruler should promote Virtue and put an end to violations of ritual propriety, using these principles to govern the officials; he should still worry that he has not done enough. Yet now you have placed a vessel obtained through bribery in the Grand Temple, displaying it plainly to the officials. They will imitate this conduct. How, then, will you punish them in the future? In the past, when King Wu of Zhou conquered Shang and moved the Nine Tripods to Luoyi, even then men who upheld righteousness criticized him for it. How, then, can we explain displaying in the Grand Temple a vessel received as a bribe in violation of ritual propriety?”

“Mo” means illness and can also refer to the hardships of the people. “Li” refers to baleful, uncanny influences. “Sheng” usually means a calamity arising from within, while “zai” usually means a disaster coming from outside; it can also specifically refer to a fire from Heaven.

At Luoyi, even some people of insight opposed this practice. What, then, should be done about displaying ritual vessels used for bribery inside the Grand Ancestral Temple, in defiance of ritual norms? “Mo” means illness; “li” means an ominous, uncanny force. An abnormal calamity arising from within is called “sheng,” while one arising from outside is called “zai.” A fire caused by heaven is also called “zai.”

The Chapter on Assisting the Ruler with the Dao

Those who assist the ruler by means of the Dao…

“Dancing with shield and axe” refers to the story of Yu the Great’s campaign against the Youmiao. After Yu sent out his troops, thirty days passed without bringing the Miao people into submission. Yi said to Yu: “Only virtue can move Heaven; there is no place so distant that it cannot reach. Utmost sincerity can communicate with the spirits—how much more so with the Youmiao?” Yu then withdrew his troops, reorganized the army, and widely spread civil virtue. On the steps on either side of the palace courtyard, he danced with a shield and feathered ornaments in hand. After seventy days, the Youmiao submitted. Their state belonged to the “wild domain” category, meaning a remote region far from the royal capital.

The Book of Rites says that dance expresses joy. Dancers hold shields and battle-axes, practicing bows, rises, bends, and stretches to make their bearing composed. They move according to their positions in the formation and keep to the rhythm so that the ranks remain orderly. Feathers, flutes, shields, and axes are all dance implements; bending, stretching, bowing, and rising are dance movements; the arrangement of positions and the pace of the movements determine the formation. The size of a dance formation was set according to rank: the Son of Heaven used eight yi (eight rows of dancers), the feudal lords six, high officials four, and scholars two.

Therefore, those skilled in the use of arms seek only to achieve their aim; they do not crave more.

The commentary explains: “Guo” means killing the enemy. As an example, the text cites the Spring and Autumn Annals, under the second year of Duke Xuan. In spring, Gongzi Guisheng of Zheng attacked Song on the command of King Zhuang of Chu. Hua Yuan of Song led the defense, and the two armies fought at Daji. The Song army was routed. Hua Yuan was captured, Le Ju was taken prisoner, and the Zheng army seized four hundred and sixty chariots, captured two hundred and fifty people, and cut off the left ears of a hundred. The Song official Kuang Jiao pursued the Zheng army. Seeing a Zheng soldier who had fallen into a well, he turned his halberd around and pulled him out, only to be captured by the Zheng soldier in return.

A gentleman commented: “Kuang Jiao violated ritual and righteousness and disobeyed orders; it was only right that he be captured.” In battle, the guiding principles should be decisiveness and resolve, with military orders kept firmly in mind. Killing the enemy is called “guo”; carrying decisiveness through is called “yi.” If one carelessly reverses the meaning of this saying, one invites death.

Fine weapons are ultimately inauspicious things.

The Six Stratagems describes six kinds of stratagem: Dragon, Tiger, Civil, Martial, Leopard, and Dog. The Civil Stratagem concerns governing the state and establishing a political order without violating the ordinary principles of Heaven’s Dao. The Martial Stratagem concerns quelling disorder and using might to bring stability to all quarters. The Dragon Stratagem concerns harmonizing Yin-Yang and following the seasons. The Tiger Stratagem concerns making skillful use of one’s claws and fangs, so that various hostile forces defeat themselves. The Leopard Stratagem concerns responding to the moment to resolve crises, meeting change with ingenuity and flexibility. The Dog Stratagem concerns keenly detecting subtle circumstances, sometimes bringing about unexpected turns that secure victory.

The Three Strategies, too, is a military art that emphasizes adapting to changing circumstances. According to legend, Zhang Liang of the Han dynasty, courtesy name Zifang, met the Yellow Stone Elder at the Yi Bridge, where the elder passed the book on to him. The Six Stratagems, in turn, is said to have been found by Jiang Ziya inside a large fish while he was fishing at Fan Creek.

As for the saying that one should keep one’s instruments concealed on one’s person, the “Appended Statements, Part Two” of the Book of Changes says: “Shoot down a falcon from atop a high wall and capture it; there is nothing unfavorable.” Confucius explained: the falcon is a bird, the bow and arrow are instruments, and the archer is a person. A noble person keeps abilities and instruments within himself, waiting for the right moment before acting. How could this fail to go well? A falcon perched atop a high wall is difficult to hit; a person in a high position is difficult to remove. If someone in a high position is greedy and cruel like a falcon, those who seek to remove him need only seize the right moment to succeed. The Records of the Grand Historian says, “When a noble person encounters the right moment, he acts; when the moment is not right, he drifts like tumbleweed in the wind.” This expresses the same principle.

Weapons and the art of warfare are often repugnant, so those who possess the Dao do not make them their customary way.

Note: One must attend to eloquence while also establishing the principle of honesty.

The line statement for the third nine in the Qian hexagram of the Book of Changes concerns civil instruction. “Honesty” means being truthful.

Weapons should be used only when there is no alternative.

Commentary: Bringing order into harmony between Heaven and Earth; Heaven generates the five substances…

Roads running north–south are called “warp,” while those running east–west are called “weft.” The “five materials” are the Five Phases (Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, and Water). Violence that harms others is called “calamity”; conduct that violates virtue and gives free rein to disorder is called “chaos”; taking possession of something or defeating someone is called “overcoming.” When an army is called a “royal army,” sending it into battle with bells ringing and drums beating is called “punitive expedition”; sending it out without bells or drums is called “invasion.” A campaign launched with a legitimate justification is called “compliant”; one without such justification is called “defiant.”

In times of celebration, the left side is honored; in mourning, the right.

The “Record of Tan Gong” in the Book of Rites says that when Confucius observed mourning for his sister, he clasped his hands with the right hand above the left. His disciples did not understand why and imitated him. Confucius praised them for their eagerness to learn. Later, when they learned that this was a mourning rite, not a celebratory rite, they changed to placing the left hand above the right. “Tan Gong” is the title of the fourth chapter of the Book of Rites.

Many people were killed.

The people are the foundation of the state. This saying comes from the “Song of the Five Sons” in the Book of Documents.

After victory, one should treat warfare according to the rites for conducting a funeral.

The Spring and Autumn Annals records that in the thirty-second year of Duke Xi of Lu, Duke Mu of Qin prepared to attack the state of Zheng. Qi Zi, an official stationed in Zheng, sent word to Qin that Zheng had entrusted him with the keys to the north gate. If Qin’s army came secretly, it could seize the state. Duke Mu consulted the official Jian Shu. Jian Shu urged him not to go, saying that an army marching a long distance to launch a surprise attack would arrive exhausted, while the enemy would be on guard. Zheng could not fail to learn of an army marching a thousand li. Duke Mu did not heed him and sent Meng Ming, Xi Qi, and Bai Yi at the head of the troops.

Jian Shu wept as he saw them off, saying that he could watch the army depart but would not live to see it return. Duke Mu sent someone to rebuke him, asking what he knew; by the time Jian Shu had lived out his years and was buried, the trees on his grave would have grown thick enough to be encircled by a person’s arms. Jian Shu’s son was also going with the army. Weeping as he saw him off, Jian Shu predicted that the Jin army would surely intercept the Qin troops at Mount Yao. The mountain had two ridges, north and south, and the Qin army would meet its end there. When that happened, Jian Shu would be left to gather his son’s bones.

The Qin army marched east. When it passed through the north gate of the Zhou royal capital, the soldiers on the chariots repeatedly took off their helmets to climb down, then jumped back aboard. Wangsun Man, a young noble of the Zhou royal house, saw this and told King Xiang: “The Qin army is reckless and lacks foresight. It also shows no respect for proper conduct. It is already so careless before entering dangerous terrain; it is bound to be defeated.”

When the Qin army reached the state of Hua, the Zheng merchant Xian Gao was on his way to Zhou to trade and encountered the troops. He presented them with four cured ox hides and twelve oxen to provision them, while also sending a messenger to alert Zheng. Duke Mu of Zheng sent people to inspect the guest house where the Qin envoys were staying. They found that the envoys had packed their belongings, sharpened their weapons, and fed their horses, clearly preparing to act. Zheng then sent Huang Wuzi to dismiss the Qin envoys politely. He explained that Zheng had run out of the meat and livestock it had been supplying them, and likened Zheng’s Yuanpu to Qin’s royal hunting park, Juyou, inviting them to hunt deer there rather than remain in Zheng. Qi Zi fled to Qi, while Fengsun and Yangsun fled to Song. Meng Ming judged that Zheng was now on guard: an attack would be difficult to win, and a siege could not be sustained. He decided to withdraw. On the way back, the army destroyed the state of Hua.

Yuan Zhen of Jin argued that Qin had ignored Jian Shu’s warning and made the people suffer to satisfy its greed. Heaven had delivered the Qin army into Jin’s hands, and Jin must not let it go. Le Zhi replied that Jin had yet to repay Qin for its past kindness, and attacking Qin now would betray the deceased ruler of Jin. Yuan Zhen answered that Qin had disregarded Jin’s mourning and attacked Zheng, a state of the same ancestral line; what kindness could there be to speak of? To let an enemy go for even one day could bring trouble for generations. Jin therefore issued the order to mobilize and called on the Jiang Rong tribes to join the campaign.

Duke Xiang of Jin set out in black mourning clothes, with Liang Hong driving his chariot and Lai Ju serving as the chariot’s right-hand guard. On the xinsi day of the fourth month, the Jin army defeated the Qin army at Mount Yao and captured Baili Xi, Meng Mingshi, and others. Someone advised Duke Xiang to kill the prisoners to strengthen Jin’s resolve. Duke Xiang agreed to release them. When Yuan Zhen heard, he flew into a rage. The warriors had fought hard to capture the enemy on the battlefield, he said, yet a woman had secured their release with a passing request. This would weaken the army and embolden its enemies; Jin’s downfall could not be far away. He turned away and spat. Duke Xiang then sent Yang Chufu in pursuit of the Qin army.

When Yang Chufu caught up with them at the Yellow River, Meng Ming was already aboard a boat. On Duke Xiang’s orders, Yang Chufu presented him with the left side horse, one of the two auxiliary horses harnessed to the chariot. Meng Ming bowed to give thanks and said that the duke had not used him, a captive minister, as a sacrifice to the war drums, but had allowed him to return to Qin and face punishment. He would never forget this kindness, even in death. If the duke spared him, he would return to repay him in three years.

Duke Mu of Qin waited outside the capital in plain clothes for the army’s return. Facing the troops, he wept and said: “I ignored Jian Shu’s advice and brought disgrace upon you. That was my fault. It was also my fault that I did not dismiss Meng Ming. What fault lies with the other officers? I will not erase their great service because of one mistake.” Jian Shu wept because he had foreseen the army’s defeat; Duke Mu wept in grief over its defeat. Neither of them wept for victory.

Though uncarved wood is small, the world dares not treat it as a subject.

The commentary says that the Spring and Autumn Annals records ten ranks in Heaven and ten ranks among humankind. Those of lower rank serve those above them, while those above them make offerings to the spirits. Men are called “subjects,” women “concubines.” Thus, the king governs the duke, the duke governs the high ministers, the high ministers govern the knights, the knights govern the servants, the servants govern the attendants, the attendants govern the bondsmen, the bondsmen govern the clerks, the clerks govern the household servants, and the household servants govern the retainers. Horses have grooms to tend them, and cattle have herdsmen to tend them; each has its own duties.

If the lords and kings can hold fast to this principle…

The commentary says that “king” is the exalted title of one who rules the four seas, while “lord” is the second of the five ranks of nobility. In the Zhou dynasty, five noble ranks were established. The hierarchy set down by the former kings included the Son of Heaven, the feudal lords, the high ministers, the great officers, and the knights; the king was also counted among the five ranks.

…sweet dew will descend—the auspicious, sweet-tasting dew regarded as a favorable omen in ancient times.

The commentary says that sweet dew is the essence of the wondrous, clear, and empty Qi; it is also an auspicious sign of benevolent virtue. It gathers like oil, tastes as sweet as malt syrup, and is also called “heavenly wine.” The Record of Astronomy says that north of the Shi constellation is a star called “Heavenly Milk,” which governs sweet dew. When the star shines brightly, sweet dew descends.

No one needs to command it; it will spread evenly of its own accord.

The commentary quotes the Book of Odes, “Greater Odes: Songs of King Wen,” which says, “From the west and from the east.” This refers to King Wu of Zhou building Haojing and holding the ceremony of the Biyong, an ancient ritual at the academy. People who came from all directions to watch were moved by his virtue and pledged their allegiance.

Then distinctions and systems can be established.

The commentary says that mountains and forests do not summon birds, tigers, or wolves, yet these animals naturally gather in their dense, secluded depths. Rivers and lakes do not summon fish, turtles, or dragons, yet these creatures naturally converge in their broad, deep waters. Lords and kings, too, need not deliberately recruit people of renown. If they put virtue, benevolence, and generosity into practice, people will naturally come to them.

Knowing others is a form of wisdom.

The Yi says: In the past, Duke Xuan of Song did not install his own son, Yuyi, as ruler, but instead chose his younger brother, Ru, who later became Duke Mu of Song. The Spring and Autumn Annals records that in the autumn of the third year of Duke Yin’s reign, Duke Mu was gravely ill. He summoned Kongfu, the Grand Minister of War, and entrusted him with the affairs of state. “The former ruler passed over Yuyi and made me ruler. I dare not forget this kindness. If, with the support of the ministers, I can preserve my life and die in peace, then when the former ruler asks about Yuyi, what could I possibly say? I ask you to install him and have him govern the state. Even if I die, I will have no regrets.”

Kongfu said, “The ministers are willing to install Prince Ping.” Duke Mu replied, “That will not do. The former ruler judged me worthy and entrusted me with the state. If I betray his virtue and refuse to yield the throne, I will be abandoning his arrangement. How could I still claim to be worthy? We ought to bring his admirable virtue to light. How could I fail to do all I can? Do not undo the former ruler’s achievement.”

Duke Mu therefore sent his own son, Ping, to live in Zheng and yielded the throne to Yuyi. After Yuyi ascended the throne, he was known as Duke Shang of Song. A gentleman commented, “Duke Xuan of Song may be said to have been skilled at recognizing people: he installed Duke Mu of Song, and later Duke Mu’s son succeeded to the throne. This was an arrangement made in accordance with what is right.”

Only by not losing one’s proper place in life can one endure.

Zheng Zhuanggong’s younger brother, Taishu Duan, was favored by their mother, Wu Jiang. Greedy and never satisfied, he drew this warning from the minister Ji Zhong: “It would be better to find him a suitable place to settle soon. Don’t let his power spread. Once it has spread, he will be hard to deal with. Even wild grass is difficult to clear when it grows unchecked—how much harder, then, to deal with a favored younger brother?” Zhuanggong did not heed him.

Later, Taishu Duan ordered the towns along the western and northern borders to obey both Zheng Zhuanggong and himself. He also seized territory as far as Linyan. He repaired the city walls, gathered the people, prepared weapons and armor, and assembled infantry and chariots, ready to attack the state of Zheng. Zhuanggong sent the minister Zifeng with three hundred chariots to attack the capital, Jingyi. Taishu Duan withdrew to Yan, and Zhuanggong attacked him there as well. In the fifth month, Taishu Duan fled to Gong, and Zhuanggong then captured Jingyi.

Earlier, when Zhuanggong’s mother, Wu Jiang, gave birth to him, the delivery was difficult and his birth startled her. So he was named “Wusheng,” meaning “born in a difficult delivery.” From then on, Wu Jiang disliked Zhuanggong and favored Taishu Duan. Later, when Taishu Duan prepared to attack Zheng, Wu Jiang planned to open the city gate for him. After Taishu Duan was defeated, Zhuanggong sent Wu Jiang to live in Ying and swore, “We will not see each other again until we meet beneath the Yellow Springs.”

Before long, Zhuanggong regretted this. Kao Shu, the border official at Ying Valley, heard what had happened and arranged to meet Zhuanggong by offering him food. Zhuanggong invited him to eat, but Kao Shu set the meat aside. When Zhuanggong asked why, Kao Shu replied, “I have a mother. She has eaten food I brought her, but she has never tasted the meat soup given by my lord. Please let me take some home to her.” Zhuanggong said, “You have a mother to whom you can send things. I alone have no one.” Kao Shu then suggested digging down until water flowed from the earth, so that Zhuanggong and Wu Jiang could meet below ground. Zhuanggong followed his advice, and mother and son restored their former relationship.

The Spring and Autumn Annals records: “The Earl of Zheng defeated Duan at Yan.” This wording criticizes Zhuanggong for failing to guide his younger brother properly. Zhuanggong tolerated Taishu Duan’s wrongdoing and let his evil grow unchecked until it reached its full extent before having him killed. The outcome came from failing to find him a suitable place in time. If Taishu Duan had not lost his proper place from the beginning…

“Those who die but are not extinguished are long-lived”: though their physical form dies, the Dao does not perish. Such a person can truly be called long-lived.

The Hetu records that at birth, Heaven grants a person 43,200 “counts,” reckoned in days, and 120 “cycles,” reckoned in years. Together, these indicate roughly the length of a person’s life. The Huangting Jing says: “Even after living to 120, one may extend life further, but guarding the Dao and cultivating practice is truly difficult. Only by relying on the Nine-Turn Eight-Jade Elixir—a Daoist method of refining elixirs—and concentrating on contemplating the essences of the Seven Primal Ones and the sun and moon can one remedy old age and physical decline.” This shows that through cultivation, one can prolong life.

The stories of Shan Bao and Zhang Yi appear in chapter nineteen of the Zhuangzi, “Understanding Life” (the original text reads “Turning Away from Life”). In ancient times, the term for death varied according to a person’s rank: an emperor’s death was called “collapse,” a feudal lord’s “passing,” a high minister’s or senior official’s “end,” a scholar-official’s “loss of office,” and a commoner’s “death.”

Chapter 35: Holding Fast to the Great Image

If one holds fast to the “Great Image”—the Dao in its entirety—people throughout the world will come and turn toward it.

In the past, people observed the sun’s appearance and the direction of the wind to divine good and ill fortune. It is said that Juku Island lay in the middle of the sea, and that it once sent envoys to present tribute to the Han court. An envoy told Emperor Wu of Han: “Our country is 300,000 li from here. At home, we regularly observe the heavens. If the east wind follows its proper course and blows without pause for a hundred days, and blue clouds correspond with the stars in the sky and remain for months, this foretells that a ruler who follows the Dao will appear in the Central Plain.” Their ruler therefore admired the Central Plain and yearned for its customs of the Dao, valuing wondrous things over gold and jade. The envoy crossed the Heavenly Forest and subdued fierce beasts in search of rare treasures, obtained divine incense, then crossed the Weak River and passed through the Flying Sands. After thirteen years of arduous travel, he arrived at the Han palace to pay his respects. The passage means that people from distant lands will come and submit, while those nearby will be able to live in peace.

Chapter 36: When You Would Draw Something In

Fish cannot leave the deep water.

The general meaning is this: In the twenty-eighth year of Duke Xi of Lu, as recorded in the Spring and Autumn Annals, Duke Wen of Jin sent out troops, taking advantage of Chu’s anger toward Song. He first seized the ruler of Cao, thereby inducing Chu to attack Song; then he seized the opportunity to fight the Chu army and ultimately defeated it. Later, Duke Wen summoned King Xiang of Zhou to Heyang, had the feudal lords pay their respects to the Son of Heaven with the proper courtly ceremony, and arranged for the king to make a hunting tour there. In this way, he gathered the lords under the pretext of honoring the Son of Heaven. Feeling that his own power was so great, however, he did not dare go in person to pay court at the Zhou royal house. Instead, he falsely claimed that the Son of Heaven was making a tour, so that he could perform the rites between ruler and subject. These actions all relied on political schemes and lacked a proper basis.

Confucius said, “A subject summoning his ruler is not a practice that can serve as a model for later generations.” The Spring and Autumn Annals records that “the Heavenly King made a tour of inspection at Heyang” because Heyang was not a proper place for the Son of Heaven to make such a tour. If even this conduct was already deceitful and mistaken, how much worse it is when treacherous ministers and petty men manipulate power and deceive their ruler.

This is the end of scroll two of The Commentary on the Dao De Jing, Imperially Composed by Emperor Xuanzong of Tang. Scroll three is titled “Chapter Thirty-Eight: The Highest De Does Not Cling to De” and continues: “Those with the highest benevolence act kindly, yet do not treat their kind acts as something from which to seek gain.”

The statement “small favors are not enough to win people’s trust” comes from the Spring and Autumn Annals, in the tenth year of Duke Zhuang of Lu, when Cao Gui answered Duke Zhuang. In the first month of that year, Lu defeated Qi at Changshao. As the two armies were about to engage, Cao Gui asked to see Duke Zhuang. A man from his village said, “Those in power will plan for this. Why do you need to concern yourself?” Cao Gui replied, “Those in power have limited understanding and cannot plan for the long term.” He then went to the palace to meet the duke.

Cao Gui asked Duke Zhuang, “On what grounds will you fight?” The duke said, “I do not dare enjoy food, clothing, and other things that sustain life by myself; I always share them with others.” Cao Gui replied, “These small favors do not reach all the people, so the people will not follow you.” The duke continued, “When it comes to sacrificial animals, jade, and silk, I do not dare make false claims; I always report them truthfully.” Cao Gui replied, “Small favors are not enough to win the trust of the spirits, so they will not protect you.” The duke said, “In cases large and small, even when I cannot examine every detail, I always handle them according to the facts.” Cao Gui replied, “This is a way of fulfilling your duties, and on this basis you can fight a battle. When the fighting begins, let me accompany you.” Duke Zhuang then rode with him in the same chariot, and they engaged the Qi army at Changshao.

Duke Zhuang was about to beat the drum and advance when Cao Gui said, “Not yet.” Only after the Qi army had beaten its drum three times did Cao Gui say, “Now.” The Qi army was routed. Duke Zhuang was about to drive after them when Cao Gui said, “Not yet.” He got down to inspect the tracks left by the Qi chariots, then climbed onto the crossbar at the front of the chariot to look into the distance. “Now,” he said. The Lu army then pursued the Qi forces.

After their victory, Duke Zhuang asked why. Cao Gui replied, “Warfare depends on courage. At the first beating of the drum, morale rises; at the second, it wanes; at the third, it is spent. Their morale was exhausted while ours was strong, so we defeated them. Qi is a great power, and it is difficult to judge what they may do. I feared they had set an ambush. Only when I saw that their chariot tracks were in disarray and their banners had fallen did I decide to pursue.”

“Exalting ritual means using ritual to regulate conduct.”

The commentary explains: “To make careful arrangements for safeguards.” Here, the meaning is to establish ritual institutions to prevent the people from straying into improper conduct.

Therefore, only after the Dao has been lost do people speak of De.

The Spring and Autumn Annals records that in the twenty-sixth year of Duke Zhao of Lu, Yan Zi replied to Duke Jing of Qi: “Ritual is the foundation of governing a state. When a state is governed through ritual, it can accord with Heaven and Earth. The ruler gives commands, and his subjects respectfully carry them out; the father is loving, and the children are filial; elder siblings care for their younger siblings, and the younger siblings respect their elders; the husband is gentle, and the wife is yielding; the mother-in-law is kind, and the daughter-in-law is respectful. This is ritual.

“When a ruler issues commands that do not violate what is right, and his subjects are respectful and harbor no divided loyalties; when a father is loving and teaches his children, and the children are filial and can offer their father counsel; when elder siblings care for and treat their younger siblings kindly, and the younger siblings respect their elders and heed their guidance; when a husband is gentle and acts in accord with what is right, and a wife is yielding and remains upright; when a mother-in-law is kind, and a daughter-in-law is obedient and gracious—these relationships can be called good and beautiful.”

Duke Jing of Qi said, “Well said! Only today have I understood the highest expression of ritual.” Yan Zi replied, “These are principles the former kings grasped from the Dao of Heaven and Earth and used to govern the people. That is why they became wise and enlightened rulers. From this we can see that, in governing the world, ritual must be given urgent priority.”

Chapter 39 of Those of Old Attained the One

When the lords and kings attain the One—that is, grasp and uphold the unifying foundation of the Dao—they can become models for all under Heaven.

This passage traces the history of the title “king” and the rank associated with it. According to accounts such as those in the Spring and Autumn Annals, the ancient rulers Yao and Shun were both called “Emperor.” Shun passed the imperial throne to Yu. Humbling himself, Yu considered his virtue inferior to that of the ancient emperors and therefore took the title “King.” Another account says that after Yu died, he yielded the throne to Yi, while Yu’s son Qi lived at Mount Ji. Qi was virtuous, so the feudal lords stopped supporting Yi and instead paid court to Qi. Although Yu was nominally said to have yielded the throne to Yi, the people’s allegiance throughout the realm turned to Qi. Qi considered his virtue inferior to that of the Five Emperors and therefore called himself “King.” From then on, most rulers used “King” as their title. After Qin annexed the realm and destroyed the feudal states, it adopted the title “Emperor” throughout the empire, drawing on the Three Sovereigns and combining their title with that of the Five Emperors.

Later, “King” also became a noble rank, above the five other ranks of nobility. The Han dynasty decreed that only members of the Liu imperial clan could be made kings, while meritorious officials could be made marquises. This system continued thereafter: sons of the Son of Heaven were made kings, and the eldest legitimate son was appointed crown prince. After the Zhou dynasty established its rule over the realm, a king’s sons were called “princes,” and his grandsons “princely grandsons.” Under the system established by the present dynasty, the Tang, an emperor’s grandsons and nephews were made commandery kings, while those who inherited a title were called “inheriting kings.” Men of other surnames who had rendered meritorious service could also be made kings. Sometimes they received an honorific title; sometimes they were made commandery kings. None of these kings, however, held a fief.

“Heaven, if it cannot remain clear,” means that if Heaven fails to maintain its clarity, calamities will appear. The commentary cites the Yuan Kang era of Emperor Hui of Jin as an example. At that time, the ruler’s benevolent governance had declined, and the celestial phenomena changed: the sky split open for several dozen yards, accompanied by a rumbling sound. This was interpreted as a loss of the Way of harmony and balance. Thereafter, the Western Jin realm fell into turmoil, and both Emperor Hui and Emperor Ai suffered corresponding calamities.

“Earth, if it cannot remain tranquil,” means that if the earth fails to remain at peace, calamities will occur there too. The Records of the Grand Historian states that in the second year of King You of Zhou, the year Xinyou, three rivers in the Western Zhou territory were struck by earthquakes, and Mount Qi collapsed. During the 242 years covered by the Spring and Autumn Annals, earthquakes occurred five times. Other events regarded as anomalies included the collapse of Mount Liang and Mount Shalu, as well as stones making sounds. Since the Qin and Han dynasties, records of such events have been countless: in severe cases, cities and towns sank; in less severe cases, houses collapsed.

“Spirits, if they cannot be numinous,” means that if spirits cannot manifest their efficacy, they cannot make their responsive power apparent.

The Spring and Autumn Annals records that in the seventh month of the twelfth year of Duke Xi of Lu, a spirit descended at Xin. The ruler of Guo welcomed it with sacrificial offerings and a banquet. The historian Nei Shi Guo, serving King Hui of Zhou, asked, “Why has this happened?” Nei Shi Guo replied, “When a state is about to flourish, spirits descend to inspect its Virtue. When a state is about to decline, spirits also descend, to observe its wrongdoing. Thus some states flourish because spirits have descended upon them, while others are destroyed as a result. This has happened in Yu, Xia, Shang, and Zhou. Guo’s Virtue is shallow; it is probably about to fall.” Guo was indeed destroyed soon afterward.

In ancient times, the River God caused harm and demanded that people provide him with a wife. Ximen Bao threw the shaman into the river, and the river’s calamities came to an end.

“Valleys cannot be filled by what they receive” means that a valley is not filled simply because it takes things in.

The Old Lord said: When the Xia dynasty fell, the Yi and Luo rivers dried up; when the Shang dynasty fell, the Yellow River ran dry. In the xinyou year of King You of Zhou, rivers dried up and mountains collapsed—an omen that the Zhou dynasty was about to fall. A state’s destruction comes within ten years: this is one cycle of the allotted course of Qi. When the count reaches ten, one stage has reached its end. In the eleventh year, the gengshen year, the Western Zhou was destroyed by the Quanrong, and King Ping of Zhou consequently moved the capital east.