《道德真经衍义手抄(王守正)》Vol. 1

“Even when a household is filled with gold and jade, its riches may not last. Arrogance born of wealth and status only brings calamity upon oneself.”

The Extended Commentary offers several historical examples to illustrate this point. After Bai Gong Sheng gained control of Jing, the state of Chu, he failed to distribute the treasury’s wealth among others. The Huainanzi says that Bai Gong Sheng’s fief was in Bai, which is why he was called Bai Gong. He was the grandson of King Ping of Chu and the son of Crown Prince Jian.

The Spring and Autumn Annals records that in the twenty-fourth year of Duke Xiang of Lu, when Fan Xuanzi was directing the affairs of Jin, the states’ tribute of goods placed a heavy burden on the feudal lords. The people of Zheng were troubled by this, so Zichan, whose personal name was Qiao and who was a senior minister of Zheng, wrote to Fan Xuanzi to advise him. Fan Xuanzi was the son of Fan Wenzi and, at the time, Jin’s chief minister, responsible for governing the state.

The Spring and Autumn Annals also records that in the twenty-second year of Duke Zhao of Lu, Prince Chao and Bin Meng enjoyed the favor of King Jing of Zhou. In a conversation with Bin Meng, King Jing said he wanted to appoint Prince Chao as his heir. Prince Chao was King Jing’s eldest son; Bin Meng, also known as Meng Qi, was Prince Chao’s tutor. Bin Meng said, “Would a chicken really fear being put to work? People are different from chickens.” He meant that even if a chicken is cherished and beautifully adorned, it will eventually be slaughtered; but a person who gains favor may thereby rise to prominence. With this comparison, Bin Meng was signaling that he hoped King Jing would favor and elevate Prince Chao sooner.

In the end, however, it would still be killed. Someone who receives exceptional favor and adornment appears noble and distinguished, like a chicken set apart from the others. By comparing himself to a chicken offered in sacrifice, Zichao was saying that he hoped the King of Zhou would favor him soon and make him stand out.

Once one’s achievements are complete and one’s reputation has flourished, one should withdraw. This is the pattern of the Dao.

The Book of Changes says: “To know only how to advance and not how to yield, to know only how to live and not how to decline, to know only how to gain and not how to lose—this brings the regret that comes from going to extremes.”

The “Commentary on the Words” for the Qian Hexagram in the Zhouyi explains “The overreaching dragon will have cause for regret” as follows: “To overreach is to know only how to advance and not how to yield, only how to live and not how to decline, and only how to gain and not how to lose. Perhaps only a sage can understand advancing and withdrawing, preserving and perishing, gaining and losing, without departing from the right course.” This passage explains the meaning of the top nine line of the Qian Hexagram. It reaches an extreme and brings regret because it fails to understand these three kinds of change. If one understands them all, then even when occupying a high position, one will not overreach and incur regret.

When the sun reaches noon, it begins to sink toward the west; after the moon is full, it gradually wanes. The seasons follow the same pattern: once one’s achievements are complete, one should withdraw.

Celestial Master Du explains: When the sun reaches noon, it begins to shift; after the moon is full, it begins to wane. When the heat of summer passes, the cold arrives; after spring’s flourishing, autumn brings decline. This is the pattern of the Dao. If people follow the changes of fullness and depletion in Heaven and Earth, do not cling to merit and reputation, and yield their position when prosperity reaches its peak, then, like the Dao that accords with waxing and waning, they can avoid trouble and blame.

The Extended Meaning says: Zhang Liang of the Han dynasty, courtesy name Zifang, was enfeoffed as a marquis of ten thousand households and ranked among the nobles. This was enough for him, so he set aside worldly affairs and traveled with Master Red Pine. During the reign of Emperor Xuan of Han, Shu Guang, courtesy name Zhongweng, and his nephew Shu Shou were both from Lanling in Donghai. Shu Guang served as Grand Tutor to the Crown Prince, and Shu Shou as Junior Tutor. Shu Guang said, “I have heard that those who know when enough is enough remain out of danger, and those who know contentment avoid disgrace. I have also heard that once one’s work is done and one’s name established, withdrawing is the way of Heaven.” So the two men, uncle and nephew, pleaded illness and resigned. The emperor granted their request, giving Shu Guang thirty jin of gold and the Crown Prince fifty jin. They submitted a memorial asking to return to their home district. Was this not withdrawing once their work was done and following the way of Heaven?

Chapter Ten: Carrying the Ethereal Soul

“Can you carry the ethereal soul and embrace the One without letting them part?”

The Extended Meaning says: “When a person is carried in a vehicle, this is called ‘carrying’; when a person climbs aboard a vehicle, this too is called ‘carrying.’” “Ethereal soul” refers to a person’s spirit and body. “Embrace the One” means bringing the two into unity and keeping them united.

The Guangshengyi explains “bearing the hun and po”: the human body is where the spirit and Qi dwell and where the hun and po find support, just as a cart carries its load. The Xisheng Jing says, “The body is the vehicle of the spirit.” Since the body is compared to a cart, it naturally serves to carry things.

The po is Yin Qi gathered into physical form, manifesting as the human body. The hun is the formless part of Yang Qi, manifesting as the human spirit. When the body has formed but Yang Qi has not yet entered it, a person is like a stubborn stone or withered wood, without awareness. Only after Yang Qi enters the body can a person move. Thus the body is called the po and belongs to Yin, while the spirit is called the hun and belongs to Yang.

As long as a trace of a person’s Yang Qi remains, they do not die; as long as a trace of Yin Qi remains, they cannot yet become an immortal. When Yin Qi is fully refined away, one ascends beyond the nine heavens and becomes an immortal, accompanying Yang Qi. When Yang Qi is fully refined away, one sinks into the nine springs and becomes a ghost, accompanying Yin Qi. One should therefore guard the Yang hun and nurture the Yin po to preserve the whole of life; embrace a pure and unified mind, hold fast to the Great Dao, and never let them part, even for an instant.

The Yanyi quotes Qu Yuan’s “Li Sao”: “Bearing the hun and po, ascending among clouds and rosy mists; parting the floating clouds, I soar upward.” Qu Yuan was a senior official of the state of Chu, and “Li Sao” is the title of his work. Here, “bearing the hun and po” means carrying them up among the clouds and rosy mists. Rosy mists are red clouds, while clouds are vapors rising from mountains and rivers. “Parting” means pushing aside and departing. The whole line describes bearing the hun and po, taking flight amid red clouds, and rising upward through the floating clouds.

“Concentrate the Qi and make it soft; can you be like an infant?” means: by gathering vital energy with single-minded focus, bring body and mind to a state of gentleness—can you be like an infant?

The Yanyi then quotes, “Hold fast to your resolve, and do not violently disturb your Qi.” This means to keep your mind firmly directed and not agitate your breath and vital energy. Mencius also says that stumbling along or rushing about is driven by Qi, which moves the body; yet Qi, in turn, can disturb the mind’s resolve.

This passage first cites the “Gongsun Chou, Part One” chapter of the Mencius to explain the relationship between “intent” and “vital energy.” “Intent” is the direction of the mind; “vital energy” refers to a person’s breath and mental state. After hearing Mencius discuss the mind’s intent and vital energy, Gongsun Chou asks: If that is so, is it enough to focus solely on guarding one’s intent? Why also say that one must not harm one’s vital energy? Mencius replies, “When the intent is focused, it affects the vital energy.” The commentary explains that “focused” means single-minded, “stumble” means to fall, and “run” means to move quickly. When the intent is single-minded, vital energy moves with it. But when vital energy is concentrated on something, it can in turn affect the intent. For example, when someone falls or runs, the breath focused on that activity can also unsettle the mind. So one must both guard one’s intent and avoid harming one’s vital energy.

The passage then cites the Dao De Jing: “Though one cries out all day, the throat does not grow hoarse: this is the height of harmony.” “Throat” refers to the throat, and “hoarse” means that the voice has become rough. The saying means that crying out all day without becoming hoarse shows that body and mind have reached the utmost harmony. Su’s commentary holds that when the mind is disturbed, vital energy is harmed; when vital energy is harmed, crying out makes the voice hoarse. If someone cries out all day without becoming hoarse, this shows that the mind has not been disturbed and the breath has remained calm.

“Loving the people and governing the state, can you do so through Wuwei (non-action)?” means: Can you care for the people and govern the state by following things as they are, without imposing unnecessary action?

The passage also cites: “Cultivate it in yourself, and your De (Virtue/Power) will be genuine; cultivate it throughout the world, and your De will be universal.” This means that cultivating oneself makes one’s virtue genuine; extending this cultivation throughout the world allows virtue to become widespread. In Zuanwei, Perfected One Bixu explains that this is a progression from near to far: first cultivate the Dao in oneself, reduce thoughts and desires, prolong life, and gradually dispel all forms of falsity. Once one’s own cultivation is sound, extend its effects outward, ultimately to the governance of the world. Su’s commentary likewise says that by cultivating oneself well and then extending this to others and the world, one can govern the world.

In “When the Gate of Heaven opens and closes, can you remain receptive?”, “Gate of Heaven” refers to the gate of nature. The Yanyi explains that the Taiji (Supreme Ultimate), the fundamental state from which the cosmos comes into being, arises from it.

“Gate of Heaven” is the general name for the place where all things gather and come into being, and is therefore also called the “Gate of the Myriad Subtleties.” Guo Xiang says that the “Gate of Heaven” refers to the point where all things converge; Cheng Xuanying says that “Heaven” means nature. The principle of nature is the gateway through which all things are transformed and brought forth. This gateway is only a name; it has no visible or tangible substance. What we see is that all things come into being from it.

Zhuangzi says that all things are born and die, emerge and enter. The “Appended Statements” in the Book of Changes also says: opening the gate is called Qian, and closing it is called Kun; opening and closing together are called change, while ceaseless coming and going is called free passage. In this way, all things between Heaven and Earth transform and move, flowing without obstruction.

“To understand clearly and reach in all directions, yet be free of knowing” means that the mind is lucid and open, able to discern in every direction, yet does not cling to knowledge or distinctions. The commentary explains this with the image of a mirror: a mirror is naturally bright and clear, but when covered with dust, it reflects things dimly. Wipe away the dust, and all things appear clearly. In cultivating the Dao, one should steady the hun and po souls and hold fast to the One—the fundamental unity spoken of in Daoism—so that the mind and spirit do not scatter. Then one’s nature will naturally become clear.

Thus, those who govern a state, even when their De shines like the sun and moon, should restrain their seeing and hearing and avoid making a show of their intelligence and abilities. They should let the people live in peace, without feeling that they are being controlled or taught by anyone.

The Guangsheng Yi explains that “clarity” means seeing and understanding distinctly, while “wise illumination” means keen insight. However far or near this insight may reach, one should still let go of discriminating thoughts and quiet the mind until it seems to know or feel nothing. If one prides oneself on being clever and clings to what one knows, one becomes constrained and thereby loses the Dao.

When a ruler governs the state by relying on his own cleverness, his decrees become excessively strict and exacting, leaving the people impoverished and depleted. The Old Master urges people to set aside their pride in their own cleverness, rein in their powers of discernment, and let go of thoughts of fame and achievement. This is like the ancient rulers who stuffed silk floss into their ears beneath their ceremonial caps to limit their hearing, while strings of beads hanging from the front of the cap screened their vision and restrained their gaze. This is also the meaning of “reining in sight and turning back hearing, blocking the ears and veiling clarity.” People follow this in their daily lives, though they may not be aware of it.

This was already discussed above, so it will not be repeated here.

Chapter Eleven: Thirty Spokes

Thirty spokes converge at the hub—the part at the center of a wheel where the axle is fitted. It is precisely because the hub is empty that the wheel is useful.

The Yanyi says that the Kaogong ji in the Rites of Zhou records that a carriage canopy is made round to symbolize Heaven, while the carriage body is made square to symbolize Earth. The text has already explained this clearly, so it will not be discussed further here.

Doors and windows are cut into walls to make a house. It is precisely because the inside of the house is empty that the house is useful.

The Yanyi says that people in ancient times once lived in caves.

The “Appended Statements” in the Book of Changes says that people in remote antiquity lived in caves and out in the open. Later, the sages changed this way of life and built houses. This passage draws on the meaning of the Great Strength hexagram. “Remote antiquity” refers to the time before houses were built, when people lived in nests during summer and caves during winter. Only later did they build houses to replace them.

The Yanyi quotes the Classic of Poetry: “They made earthen chambers and dug out caves.” This means that they dug into the earth to make underground dwellings, then covered them with the soil they had excavated.

The Mao Commentary on the Book of Songs, in “Mian” from the “Decade of King Wen,” records that when Gugu Danfu (the grandfather of King Wen of Zhou) lived in Bin, he built covered dwellings from earth and dug holes in the ground to live in, before proper houses had been built. Here, “Gugu” refers to the leader of Bin. “Gu” means ancient or long-established, while “Dan” was his name. “Household” means a home shared by parents and children, and by husband and wife.

Zheng’s commentary explains that the ministers of a feudal lord addressed him as “lord.” A fu was a dwelling covered with earth, while a xue was a shelter dug into the ground. Both were made of clay and resembled kilns used for firing pottery.

Zhuangzi says that when a room has no open space, a wife and her mother-in-law will jostle over the narrow passage. In other words, when there is no free space inside and the way through is narrow, they cannot move about easily. A wife should defer to her mother-in-law and treat her with filial respect; but when there is nowhere to pass, they quarrel, and their relationship turns into one of mutual hostility.

Thus, tangible things make life more convenient, while it is the intangible empty space that serves a practical purpose.

The Book of Changes says, “What is above form is called Dao (the Way); what is below form is called a vessel.” The Commentary on the Appended Phrases explains that what is above bodily form is called “Dao”: the fundamental principle of quietude, emptiness, and Wuwei (non-action). What is below bodily form is called a “vessel”: a concrete thing that receives material substance and takes visible shape.

Chapter Twelve: The Five Colors

The five colors dazzle the eyes; the five notes dull the ears; the five flavors disrupt the palate.

The five colors are green, yellow, white, red, and black. They originally served as symbols of the Five Phases—Metal, Wood, Water, Fire, and Earth. The various decorative patterns on ceremonial robes, including fufu designs made up of axe shapes, ya shapes, and other motifs, served to distinguish rank and status.

The “five colors” are green-blue, yellow, white, red, and black. The “Five Phases” are Metal, Wood, Water, Fire, and Earth.

“Fu and fu” refers to embroidered designs on ancient ceremonial robes. The Book of Documents, in the “Yi and Ji” chapter, records Shun saying to his ministers: “Serve as my assistants, like my hands and feet, ears and eyes, helping me govern the people and carry out my commands throughout the four quarters. I wish to examine the garments and designs of the ancients: the sun, moon, stars, mountains, dragons, and pheasants; as well as the ritual vessels, aquatic plants, fire, rice grains, fu, and fu. Use the five colors to paint the garments according to their hues. You are to examine and oversee these matters.”

The “you” here refers to ministers of that time, including Yu. The rules for ancient clothing required clear distinctions: the garment worn on the upper body was called yi, and the one worn on the lower body was called chang. Together they bore twelve emblems, which marked ranks of status and distinctions in chariots and clothing. The upper garment was mainly dark-colored, while the lower garment was embroidered with designs. Chang is pronounced like “su” and means clothing adorned with patterns. The six emblems of the sun, moon, stars, mountains, dragons, and pheasants were embroidered on the upper garment. These designs could also be found on the ritual vessels used in ancestral temples.

Algae, fire, rice grains, white powder, an axe pattern, and paired curved lines are six designs embroidered on fine kudzu cloth to make the lower garment. The sun, moon, and stars make brightness visible; the mountain pattern represents benevolence; the dragon pattern conveys transformation; and the huachong, or patterned birds and beasts, symbolizes civilization. The sage governs the world with clear insight and puts benevolence into practice in administering affairs. Though the effects of this governance are hard to fathom, its arrangements for ruling the state, educating the people, imposing penalties, and issuing decrees are all complete. Govern the people in this way, and they will live in peace; make offerings to the spirits in this way, and the spirits will partake of the offerings. Thus these six designs appear both on the zongyi, ritual vessels, and on garments.

The algae pattern represents gentleness and purity, qualities suited to presenting offerings. The fire pattern represents brightness and order, qualities suited to cooking. Rice nourishes people, and white powder embellishes things. The axe pattern represents decisiveness, while the paired curved lines represent discernment. The sage adorns the Dao of governance with ritual patterns and brings abundance to the world through the king’s principles of government, thereby nourishing the people. To bring governance to completion, one must also act decisively and discern clearly. These six designs are therefore embroidered on the lower garment.

In later generations, however, people pursued the splendor of brocade and embroidery and the pleasing appearance of blue and yellow. Their minds and spirits were drawn along by external things, exhausting their vitality and impairing their insight. Unable to see the reality behind outward colors, were they not as good as blind? This is the harm caused by becoming absorbed in the five colors.

The Yanyi says: The five musical notes were originally established to make manifest the distinct sounds of the Five Phases. Musical instruments made of metal, stone, silk, bamboo, and other materials can communicate the Qi of Heaven and Earth.

The Chao quotes Liu Xiang of the Han dynasty as saying: “Gong” means “to reside at the center” and symbolizes the ruler’s virtue. “Shang” means “to be manifest” and symbolizes the patterns that emerge when the myriad things take form. The entry on the jiao note survives in the original only as “the failing of the jiao,” a phrase whose meaning is incomplete.

According to the Han dynasty scholar Liu Xiang, the five tones have the following meanings: gong means “center” and symbolizes the ruler’s Virtue; shang means “to illuminate” and symbolizes the ordering of all things; jue means “armor” and symbolizes the sprouting and growth of all things; zhi means “well-being” and symbolizes the flourishing of all things; and yu means “to gather” and symbolizes the gathering and storing of all things.

The “Yi Ji” chapter of the Book of Documents records Emperor Shun saying: “I wish to hear the Six Pitch Standards, the Five Tones, and the Eight Categories of Musical Instruments, so that I may discern whether government is being well or poorly conducted and, accordingly, accept or correct what I say. You must heed my words; if I make a mistake, help me set it right. Do not agree with me to my face, only to speak differently after you leave.”

The commentary explains that the Six Yang Pitch Standards are Huangzhong for the eleventh month, Taicu for the first month, Guxian for the third month, Ruibin for the fifth month, Yize for the seventh month, and Wushe for the ninth month. The Six Yin Pitch Standards are Jiazhong for the second month, Zhonglü for the fourth month, Linzhong for the sixth month, Nanlü for the eighth month, Yingzhong for the tenth month, and Tailü for the twelfth month. Together, the Six Yang and Six Yin Pitch Standards make up the Twelve Pitch Standards, the ancient system for determining musical pitch. The Five Tones are gong, shang, jue, zhi, and yu. The Eight Categories of Musical Instruments are metal, stone, silk, bamboo, earth, wood, gourd, and hide: the eight kinds of materials used to make instruments. Emperor Shun asked Yu the Great to listen closely to these sounds and use them to regulate ritual and clothing, thereby bringing clarity to government, and so on. These passages show that the Five Tones, too, can be put to improper use.

The Extended Meaning says: “The Five Flavors were established to embody the harmony of the Five Phases (Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, Water). But people become enamored of the delicious taste of meat and crave it without restraint. As a result, their spirit grows clouded and their original nature is harmed.”

The commentary explains that the Five Flavors are sweet, bitter, sour, salty, and pungent. Here, “impairment” means error or abnormality. When the sense of taste is damaged by overeating, the other senses are affected as well, throwing hearing, sight, and taste out of balance.

The Extended Meaning says: “The pleasure of grass-fed and grain-fed livestock on the palate.”

The commentary quotes the “Gaozi I” chapter of the Mencius. Mencius says: “Ritual and righteousness delight my heart just as grass-fed and grain-fed livestock delight my palate.” “Grass-fed” refers to animals that eat grass, such as cattle and sheep. “Grain-fed” refers to animals raised on grain, such as pigs and dogs. Thus grass-fed and grain-fed livestock satisfy people’s appetites.

The Yanyi says, “People who are insatiable in their greed, like Taotie.”

The Chao explains: Coveting wealth is called “chu”; chu originally means the grass eaten by cattle and sheep. Livestock fed on grain are called “huan,” such as pigs and dogs. Thus, meat from animals fed on grass and grain can satisfy the appetite.

The Yanyi again says, “People who are insatiable in their greed, like Taotie.”

The Chao explains: “Tao” means greed for wealth, while “tie” means greed for food. “Taotie” therefore refers to someone who craves both wealth and food and is never satisfied. Such greed clouds the mind and spirit, tarnishes one’s original nature, and eventually robs a person of the ability to taste and feel things as they normally would.

“Riding at full gallop and becoming absorbed in hunting throws the mind and spirit into disorder.”

The Yanyi says: The Book of Rites, in its chapter “Royal Regulations,” gives a detailed account of the rules for hunting.

The Chao, citing the Rites of Zhou, explains the names of the hunts in the four seasons: In spring, the hunt was called “sou”; game was selected, and only animals unsuitable for breeding were taken. In summer, it was called “miao”; animals that would no longer grow and bear fruit were taken. In autumn, it was called “xian,” and more game was hunted. In winter, it was called “shou,” meaning to wait and hunt, without further selection.

The Yanyi says: Being absorbed in hunting without restraint is like Taikang of the Xia dynasty, who hunted beyond the Luo River and was consequently resented by all five of his younger brothers.

The Chao explains: “Hunting frenzy” means becoming obsessed with hunting. The Book of Documents, in “The Songs of the Five Sons,” records that Taikang held the throne but sought only ease and comfort, neglecting his Virtue and alienating the people. He also indulged in pleasure without restraint, hunting beyond the Luo River and failing to return even after a hundred days. His five younger brothers were deeply resentful, so they recalled the admonitions of Yu the Great and composed songs.

One verse says: “An ancient teaching says: Within, become obsessed with women; without, become obsessed with hunting. Delight in wine and music, build towering palaces and decorate their walls. If even one of these vices takes hold, ruin is inevitable.” Taikang’s story is used here to show that disregarding the rules and becoming absorbed in sensual pleasures and hunting, drinking and listening to music, and building lavish palaces will eventually bring destruction. Hunting without restraint—chasing game, harming living creatures, disrupting farming, climbing dangerous slopes and cliffs, and staying away for a long time—throws the mind and spirit into disorder. This is the harm caused by excessive hunting.

The Yanyi says: Duke Ai of Qi was fond of hunting, and for this he was mocked by the poets of the Book of Songs.

The Mao Commentary’s fifth scroll, the poem “Huan,” satirizes Duke Ai of Lu for neglecting the affairs of government. Duke Ai loved hunting and never tired of chasing game. Influenced by him, the people gradually made hunting a custom. Those skilled at hunting were called worthy and capable, while those good at driving chariots in pursuit were considered especially skillful.

“Rare treasures can hinder people’s actions.”

The commentary explains that this refers to treasures such as moon pearls.

The Comprehensive Mirror to Aid in Government records that in the fourteenth year of King Xian of Zhou, Qi and Wei held a joint hunt in the countryside. King Hui of Wei asked King Wei of Qi, “Does Qi have any treasures?” King Wei replied, “No.” King Hui said, “Though my state is small, it still has ten pearls, each an inch in diameter, that can illuminate twelve chariots ahead and twelve behind. Qi is a great state. How can it have no treasures?”

King Wei of Qi said, “The treasures I value are different from the ones Your Majesty mentioned. I have a minister named Tanzi. When I sent him to guard the southern border, the people of Chu no longer dared to invade. I have a minister named Xizi. When I sent him to guard Gaotang, the people of Zhao no longer dared to come east of the Yellow River to fish. I have a minister named Qianfu. When I sent him to guard Xuzhou, more than seventy households from Yan and Zhao moved there and pledged their allegiance. And I have a minister named Zhongshou, whom I assigned to guard against thieves; since then, no one on the roads has picked up and kept lost property. These four ministers shine across a thousand miles. How could their light be limited to twelve chariots?” King Hui of Wei looked ashamed when he heard this.

The commentary adds that treasures of this kind are luminous pearls.

The copied text says that the King of Chu had a pearl that glowed at night and asked where it had come from. Marquis Sui replied that, while traveling, he had seen a boy tending cattle strike a snake. The snake was wounded and bleeding heavily, and seemed close to death. Moved by compassion, he rescued it, washed its wound with water, applied medicine, and bandaged it. Once healed, the snake swam away. It turned out to be the son of the Dragon King of the Sea. Later, it brought Marquis Sui a pearl seven inches long to repay his kindness. Marquis Sui then presented the pearl to the King of Chu. Seeing it shine in the palace at night, the king called it the “Night-Luminous Pearl.”

A commentary cites the Mencius, “Jinxin, Part Two”: “A ruler of the feudal states has three kinds of treasure: land, people, and government. If he treats pearls and jade as treasures, disaster will surely befall him.” Yin’s commentary explains that when a ruler values what truly deserves to be valued, the state can be secure; if he loses these treasures, the state will be in danger.

The commentary adds that after Xilü, a western state, presented a fine dog, the Duke of Zhou, a minister of the Zhou dynasty, wrote a text admonishing King Wu of Zhou not to treat rare and exotic things as treasures.

The “Traveling Tributes” chapter of the Classic of Documents records that the Western Lü was a distant country in the west, and that it once presented a large dog as tribute. The dog stood four feet tall. Because it was exceptionally large, it was called an “ao,” or mastiff. The Grand Protector, Duke of Shao Shi, composed the “Traveling Tributes” to admonish King Wu of Zhou.

Duke of Shao said, “Alas, when an enlightened ruler carefully cultivates De (Virtue), the peoples of the four quarters will all submit. Near and far, each region will present its local products. If the ruler does nothing useless, his achievements can be accomplished. If he does not prize rare and unusual things, and instead values ordinary tools, the people can prosper.” The point is that an enlightened ruler regards moral conduct as useful and material luxuries as secondary. In this way, he can govern the country and guide the people.

Dogs and horses that are not native to the region should not be kept, nor should rare birds and exotic animals be raised within the country. Such things are of no benefit and instead bring harm. If distant treasures are not treated as precious, people from faraway places will naturally draw near. If the people’s interests are not seized, people from the four quarters will naturally come and submit. When the ruler prizes only worthy people, those around him can live in peace. Hence the saying: “Hard-to-obtain goods make people’s actions go astray.”

The Extended Meaning cites the presentation of a five-colored parrot by the kingdom of Linyi as an example: Wei Zheng once submitted a remonstrance to Emperor Taizong of Tang.

The Collected Commentary records that during the Zhenguan era, the kingdom of Linyi presented a white parrot. It was clever and articulate, answered questions skillfully, and repeatedly showed signs of suffering from the cold. Taizong took pity on it and ordered that it be handed to the Linyi envoy to be returned to the mountain forests. The chancellor Wei Zheng, a native of Julu, submitted a memorial to remonstrate with Taizong.

The Extended Meaning also says, “Once, there was a man in Qi who wanted gold.” This quotes the “Explaining the Conjunctions” chapter of the Liezi. The Extended Meaning has already recorded the relevant passage in full.

Thus, the sage seeks only to meet the body’s basic needs and does not crave what pleases the eyes. He gives up the latter and chooses the former. The Extended Meaning explains that “not acting for the eyes” means setting aside the six senses—the six kinds of sensory desire—and not letting the eyes indulge in looking as they please.

“Honor, wealth, high status, fame, and emoluments”—these six things can disturb a person’s mind and will. The explanatory note says: Such outward honors and gains are all sources of emotional disturbance.

The extended commentary says: The objects encountered by the five senses can harm one’s nature. One should therefore forget external things in order to preserve one’s true nature.

The Scripture of the Jade Emperor’s Original Conduct says: The Six Dusts—the external objects encountered by the eyes, ears, nose, tongue, body, and mind—stain and corrupt. They entangle the three kinds of karma of body, speech, and mind: one’s actions, words, and thoughts. Those who have sinned remain trapped in calamity for a long time, give free rein to the six sense faculties, and lose their nature. As a result, they cannot clearly distinguish right from wrong and are ultimately tainted by the distortions of the Six Dusts.

Chapter Thirteen: Favor and Disgrace

What does it mean to receive favor or suffer disgrace? Receiving favor already places one in a low position. When favored, one feels as if startled; when favor is withdrawn, one feels as if startled as well. This is what is meant by “favor and disgrace are both startling.”

The extended commentary says: When Ziliezi was poor, his face showed signs of hunger; this has already been discussed in detail in the section on principle. Ziweng of Chu served three times as chief minister without showing joy, and was dismissed three times without showing resentment.

The note says: The Lingyin was the chief minister of the state of Chu. Ziweng’s surname was Dou, and his personal name was Guyu. He did not show joy or anger on his face, nor did he set himself against external things. His three appointments and three dismissals all accorded with the natural order, without any admixture of personal desire.

The Commentary on the Meaning says: Liu Xiahui served as a prison official and was dismissed three times, yet he did not leave the state of Lu. The “Weizi” chapter of the Analects records that Liu Xiahui lived during the reign of Duke Xi of Lu. His surname was Zhan, his given name Huo, and his courtesy name Jiqin. He lived in a place called Liuxia and took pleasure in showing kindness to others. Another account says that “Hui” was his posthumous name. He served as the official in charge of criminal justice and was dismissed three times. Someone asked him, “Could you not leave this place?” He replied, “If you serve a ruler by holding to the right Way, where could you go without being dismissed three times? If you are to serve a ruler by going against the right Way, why leave your home state?” Though Liu Xiahui was dismissed repeatedly, he remained composed in manner and calm in speech. He may be called a wise man. He never agreed to go against the right Way, and he stood firm without letting this cost him his integrity.

The Commentary on the Meaning also says: Each time Zheng Kaofu received a new appointment and promotion, he walked humbly close to the wall, with not the slightest trace of alarm or self-satisfaction in his heart. The “Lie Yukou” chapter of the Miscellaneous Chapters of the Zhuangzi records that Zheng Kaofu was the great-grandson of Duke Min of Song and the great-great-grandson of Fu Fu He. When he received his first appointment, he walked bent over; at his second, he bowed lower still; and at his third, he nearly crawled, keeping close to the wall. With such reverence and humility, who would dare to offend him through unrighteous conduct?

The commentary explains that “Kao” means achievement and “Fu” means greatness. Zheng Kaofu achieved lofty De (Virtue) and followed the right Way, and so received this title. He was a distant ancestor of Confucius and once served as a high official in the state of Song. In ancient times, a shi received one appointment, a senior official two, and a minister three. With each promotion, Zheng Kaofu became more humble and respectful, so naturally no one dared to offend him.

What does it mean to regard great calamity as something as precious as one’s body? It is because I have a body that I have these calamities. If I had no body, what troubles could I have?

The Commentary on the Meaning says: Forget the limits of the body, set aside the acuity of the ears and eyes, let go of attachment to physical form, and put aside distinctions based on cleverness. If one can do this, who would dare to offend them through unrighteous conduct?

What does it mean to regard great calamity as something as precious as one’s body? It is because I have a body that I have these calamities. If I had no body, what troubles could I have?

When the heart-mind is empty, still, and free of attachment, one can forget the constraints of the body and distinctions of cleverness, merge with the Great Dao, and reach a state of communion with all things. Then, wherever one may be, one can remain at ease and content.

The Inner Chapters of the Zhuangzi recount that one day Yan Hui said to Confucius, “I have made progress.” Confucius asked, “What do you mean?” Yan Hui replied, “I can now sit in forgetfulness.” “Sitting in forgetfulness” means letting go of attachments in the heart-mind while sitting quietly. The commentary explains that “destroy” means to do away with, and “dismiss” means to set aside. Though the ears can still hear and the eyes still see, the spirit has realized that all things return to unity. No longer regarding the body or the myriad things of the outside world as real in themselves, one can let go of reliance on the body, the senses, and cleverness. “Great Communion” is the Great Dao. Since the Dao gives life to and nourishes all things, it is called “Great Communion.”

This is like what Confucius called “having no self,” that is, being free of a private self. The Analects, in “Zihan,” says that Confucius cast aside four dispositions: relying on subjective conjecture, insisting that things must turn out a certain way, clinging stubbornly to one’s views, and putting oneself at the center. Huian explains that “conjecture” means a person’s subjective thoughts; “must” means deciding that things have to be a certain way; “stubbornness” means rigidly clinging to one’s position; and “self” means self-interest. These four follow one another: first comes a subjective thought, then an insistence, then stubbornness, and finally a self-centered outlook. The self, in turn, gives rise to new thoughts, so that one is continually pulled along by desire.

This also resembles Nanguo Ziqi’s “loss of self” in the Zhuangzi’s “Discussion on Making All Things Equal.” Nanguo Ziqi is a figure in the Zhuangzi. He sat quietly, leaning on a table, and exhaled with his head raised, his expression as if he had lost his attachment to self. In other words, he regarded Heaven and humanity, the other and the self, as equal and mutually connected, and thereby forgot his private self.

A passage from the Zhuangzi: Discussion on Making All Things Equal says: Nan Guo Ziqi leaned against a table and sat, his head tilted back as he exhaled toward the sky. His expression was still and vacant, as though he had lost his companion. He saw himself as one with Heaven, Earth, and all things, no longer distinguishing between self and others. External things could no longer make him glad. His body and mind seemed to have loosened and dissolved, as if he had lost every support.

Yan Cheng Ziyou stood before him in attendance and asked, “What has happened? A person’s body may indeed become like withered wood, but can the mind become like dead ashes too? You, sitting here against the table, are no longer the person you used to be.” Ziqi replied, “Yan, that is a good question. Now I have forgotten myself. Do you understand what this means?” To “forget oneself” here means to stop clinging to oneself. Once a person reaches this state, how could the favor and disgrace, troubles and comforts mentioned earlier affect them?

Therefore, one who cherishes the world as dearly as their own person may be entrusted with the world; one who cares for the world as they care for themselves may be given charge of it.

The commentary explains: Such a person is like Zizhou Zhifu, who lived in the time of Shun.

A passage from the Zhuangzi: Yielding the Throne says: Shun offered the world to Zizhou Zhibo, also called Zizhou Zhifu. Zizhou Zhibo replied, “I suffer from a grave illness of worry and distress, and I am about to devote myself to treating it. I have no time to govern the world.” The commentary explains that Zizhou was his surname, while Zhibo was his given name or courtesy name. He was a man who upheld the Dao and withdrew from public life. Shun knew him to be virtuous and offered him the world. By “hidden worry,” Zhibo meant a state of deep inward distress. He believed that he was still burdened by circumstances and troubled in mind, and was about to cultivate himself in the hope of becoming aligned with the Dao. He had no time yet to take charge of the many affairs of governing the world.

The commentary adds that people like Prince Sou of Yue were of the same kind. It again cites the Zhuangzi: Yielding the Throne: Zizhou Zhibo said that he needed to cultivate himself and bring himself into accord with the Dao, and had no time yet to govern the many affairs of state.

Zhuangzi says in the “Yielding the Throne” chapter: The people of Yue killed their rulers in succession for three generations. Prince Sou grew fearful and fled into a cinnabar cave, a grotto in the southern mountains. With no ruler in Yue, the people searched everywhere for Prince Sou and eventually found the cave. He refused to come out, so the people of Yue smoked him with mugwort, then welcomed him with a jade carriage. Prince Sou took hold of the carriage reins and climbed aboard. Looking up at the sky, he cried, “The throne, the throne! Can you not leave me alone?” Prince Sou did not dislike being a ruler; he disliked the disasters that came with ruling. A person like Prince Sou, it can be said, did not let affairs of state damage his life.

Chapter Fourteen: “Look, But Do Not See”

Look at it and you cannot see it: this is called “yi.” Listen for it and you cannot hear it: this is called “xi.” Reach for it and you cannot grasp it: this is called “wei.”

The Extended Meaning says: The Dao can appear as black and yellow. The Book of Changes says that Heaven is above and black, while Earth is below and yellow. The “Tianrui” chapter of the Liezi says that the Dao can manifest as the notes gong and shang; it can appear as Yin and Yang, be soft or hard, round or square, short or long. Zhenghe says: Possessing particular knowledge and abilities means grasping only a part of the Dao, not comprehending it fully. The Dao may seem to know nothing, yet it knows everything; it may seem incapable, yet it can do anything. Thus, there is nothing it cannot encompass.

Black and yellow are colors; gong and shang are musical notes; Yin and Yang are qualities of Qi; soft and hard are properties of materials; round and square are the shapes of objects; short and long are measures of form. The transformations of the myriad things are all contained in these manifestations.

The Extended Meaning also says: When the Dao occupies a lowly place, it is silent and still, like rubble.

The Zhuangzi records that Dongguozi asked Zhuangzi, “Where exactly is the Dao you speak of?”

The commentary explains that Dongguozi lived east of the city walls and was therefore called Dongguozi. He was Dongguo Shunzi, the teacher of Wuze. He asked Zhuangzi where the unobstructed, all-pervading Way ultimately existed. Zhuangzi replied, “The Dao is everywhere.”

Dongguozi said, “You must point to a specific place before I can understand.” Zhuangzi then said, “It is in ants.” Dongguozi asked, “Why is it in something so lowly?” Zhuangzi said, “It is in weeds such as ti and bai.” Dongguozi asked again, “Why is it in something even lower?” Zhuangzi said, “It is in broken tiles.” Dongguozi asked, “Why does each answer place it lower still?” Zhuangzi said, “It is in excrement and urine.”

Dongguozi did not answer. Zhuangzi said, “Your question never reached the root of things.”

Chapter Fifteen, “The Ancient Masters of the Dao,” says: “Those who were skilled in cultivating the Dao in ancient times were subtle and mysterious, penetrating and profound, beyond fathoming. Because they were so difficult to understand, we can only try to describe them with a few words.”

The Yanyi says: “Liezi lived in a garden in the state of Zheng for forty years, and no one knew who he was.”

The commentary on Liezi’s “Tianrui” explains: “The title ‘Master Lie’ places ‘Master’ before the surname because the opening passage was recorded by his disciples. The relevant principles have already been explained in detail, so they are not repeated here.”

“Cautious, as if crossing a river on foot in winter; wary, as if mindful of the neighbors on all sides” means being as careful as someone crossing a river on foot in winter, and as alert as someone concerned about those living nearby.

The Yanyi explains this as “guarding against what is wrong and preserving sincerity”: preventing wrongdoing so that the heart remains sincere. The commentary on the second line of the Qian hexagram in the Book of Changes likewise explains that preventing wrongdoing serves to preserve sincerity within the heart.

The Yanyi also says that Dongguo Shunzi would set his appearance in order and use it to awaken things, thereby calming and settling people’s minds.

The Zhuangzi, in the “Tian Zifang” chapter of its Outer Chapters, says, “By correcting one’s bearing, one can dispel the confusion in another person’s mind.” Master Xihua, Cheng Xuanying, explains that when Dongguozi encountered beings without the Dao and people of crooked intent, he would correct his bearing, enabling them to understand and awaken; the disorder in their hearts would then naturally fade. This passage was already quoted at length in chapter eight of the Daodejing, “The Highest Good Is Like Water,” so it will not be repeated here.

The Yanyi says that even when Li Hanguang was alone in a dark room, he remained as cautious and respectful as if standing before a ruler or his father. Sima Ziwei greatly admired him.

Volume nine of the Biographies of Eminent Daoists records that the Daoist Li Hanguang was from Jinling and devoted himself to the Dao from the age of twelve. Even when alone in a dark room, he maintained a solemn bearing, as if before a ruler or his father. Those who saw him could not help but become more reserved in his presence. In his youth, he excelled at seal script and clerical script. When someone praised his calligraphy as surpassing his father’s, he heard this and never wrote again for the rest of his life. Later, he became a disciple of Master Zhenyi. Sima Ziwei praised his seal script as a treasure, entrusted him with his entire book collection, and said, “He is truly an immortal guest of Jade Purity.” The accounts of these two men are cited here to show that their conduct was steadfast and their manner cautious and respectful, making them fitting examples of being “solemn as a guest”—that is, carrying oneself with dignity and restraint, as one would when visiting another’s home.

As for remaining vigilant even when alone in a dark room, the Perfected Lord Ling Sheng once said: “Heaven above sees clearly, and earth below is watched by its spirits. In places of light, punishments follow one after another; in dark and hidden places, ghosts and spirits are also present. Whether entering or leaving, speaking or keeping silent, good and evil are each known for what they are. Only by holding fast to the right way can one avoid deceiving one’s own heart.”

“Who can make the turbid still? When it grows quiet, the turbid will gradually clear. Who can make stillness endure? When things begin to move, life will gradually emerge.”

The Yanyi, citing the Book of Changes, says: “Silent and unmoving, yet once touched by a response, one can comprehend the principles of all things under Heaven.”

The Commentary on the Book of Changes (Yizhuan), in “Appended Statements, Part One,” says: “The Changes has no thoughts and makes no deliberate effort. It is still and motionless, yet through responsive resonance it penetrates the transformations of all things under Heaven. If it were not the most wondrous presence under Heaven, who could do this?”

The Extended Interpretation explains that this is because the Dao gathers in emptiness and stillness.

The Zhuangzi, in “Gengsang Chu,” says: “When the chest is upright, the mind becomes calm. When the mind is calm, it becomes clear. When it is clear, it becomes empty. When it is empty, one can practice Wuwei (non-action), yet nothing remains unaccomplished.”

Chapter Sixteen: Reaching the utmost in emptiness and stillness, and holding firmly to quietude

“Reach the utmost in emptiness and stillness, and hold firmly to quietude. As the myriad things grow and transform together, I observe how they return to their source.”

The Extended Interpretation explains that “reach” means to attain, as in the Great Learning’s phrase “extend knowledge.”

The Great Learning says: “To make one’s thoughts sincere, one must first investigate knowledge; the key to investigating knowledge lies in examining things.” Huian (Zhu Xi’s courtesy name) explains: “‘Sincere’ means genuine; ‘thoughts’ are ideas that arise in the mind. To make the ideas that arise in the mind genuine and free of delusion is to direct them wholeheartedly toward goodness and not deceive oneself. ‘Extend’ means to pursue something to its utmost; ‘knowledge’ means understanding. To investigate one’s knowledge is to ensure that nothing one understands remains unexplored to its limits.”

The Extended Interpretation further says that this usage is also like the phrase in the Spring and Autumn Annals, “Chu drew out the Jin army.”

The Spring and Autumn Annals, under the twelfth year of Duke Xuan, records that King Zhuang of Chu sought peace with Jin, and Jin agreed. The two sides had already set a date to meet and make an alliance. Chu sent Xu Bo to drive the chariot, Le Bo to accompany him, and She Shu to serve as the charioteer’s guard. They planned to go in a single chariot to challenge Jin, thereby showing that they did not intend to make peace and drawing out the Jin army. By drawing out the enemy in this way, the two sides would be brought into battle. Seeking the Dao by becoming still follows the same principle: by holding to stillness, one can seek the Dao.

The Liezi says: “Nothing is better than stillness and emptiness. Stillness and emptiness are precisely the return to one’s original place.”

This passage is excerpted from “The Tianrui Chapter” of the Liezi. Someone asked Liezi, “Why do you prize emptiness?” Liezi replied, “There is nothing in emptiness itself to prize.” He continued, “Setting names aside, nothing is better than stillness, and nothing is better than emptiness. By remaining still and empty, one rests in one’s proper place. To take or to give is instead to lose one’s original place. If emptiness does not reach its utmost, and stillness does not become profound, one cannot penetrate the Dao. What is prized, then, is cultivating emptiness and stillness to their utmost, solid state.”

The commentary explains: Though the myriad phenomena are tangled and varied, my mind remains clear; though worldly affairs change in countless ways, my mind remains tranquil. This is called “Heavenly Joy,” the ease that arises from following the natural principles of Heaven and Earth. Only by reaching this state can one penetrate the Dao. Thus, emptiness and stillness must be cultivated to their utmost, solid state.

An excerpt from “The Way of Heaven” chapter of the Zhuangzi says, “With an empty and still mind, one can investigate Heaven and Earth and understand the myriad things. This is called Heavenly Joy.” Master Xihua’s commentary says, “When the mind is settled as one, all things can respond in accord. This is because one uses the wisdom of emptiness and stillness to investigate the principles governing Heaven and Earth and understand the conditions of the myriad things. One responds as things change, yet remains at ease throughout; therefore, this is called Heavenly Joy.”

The commentary explains: This is what the Classic of Changes, in the Hexagram of Return, means by “In Return, one sees the heart of Heaven and Earth.”

This is from the hexagram statement of the Hexagram of Return in the Classic of Changes. Here, “return” means going back to the root. The Yang Qi of Qianyuan—the fundamental power through which Heaven and Earth bring forth the myriad things—recedes from this point and returns from this point, hence the phrase “coming back and returning.” The ceaseless movement of the myriad things, as they return to their Way, is the operation of Heaven’s Way. To set forth is auspicious, because the force of Yang is growing.

“In Return, one sees the heart of Heaven and Earth” means that the heart of Heaven and Earth is the silent, formless principle of the single Yang Qi of Qianyuan. The first nine line statement of the Qian hexagram, “The hidden dragon: do not act,” describes the state in which Yang Qi lies concealed below. From this concealment, one can see the heart of Heaven and Earth.

The myriad things flourish in abundance, yet in the end each returns to its root. Returning to the root is called stillness; stillness is called returning to one’s nature; returning to one’s nature is called the constant Way.

The Book of Changes says that by probing deeply into the principles of things and fully realizing one’s nature, one can come to understand Heaven’s Mandate. “Mandate” is the subtle expression of one’s nature. Commentaries on the Commentary on the Book of Changes explain: “Mandate” is the fullest potential of life; to exhaust the principles is to investigate them to their utmost.

Only those who understand what is constant can be called wise. Those who do not understand what is constant and act recklessly will bring misfortune upon themselves.

Confucius said, “A person without constancy cannot be a shaman or a physician.” The Analects records Confucius praising this southern proverb. Zhu Xi, whose courtesy name was Huian, explains that “constancy” means enduring without change. Shamans are responsible for communicating with spirits, while physicians deal with matters of life and death. So even these occupations, regarded as lowly, especially require constancy.

Mencius said, “Without constancy, there is nothing people will not do when they give themselves over to wickedness and disorder.” The Mencius explains that people can more readily maintain a steady mind when they have a secure livelihood; without one, it is difficult for them to remain constant. If people turn to wrongdoing for this reason, and are punished after they commit a crime, that is to entrap them. A ruler of benevolence and virtue would not entrap the people in this way.

Those who understand the Way of constancy can be broad-minded. With breadth of mind comes fairness in action; with fairness, one can bear the responsibilities of a king. To become a king is to accord with Heaven’s Way; to accord with Heaven’s Way is to be in harmony with the Dao. Those in harmony with the Dao can endure for a long time and will encounter no danger throughout their lives.

The Book of Rites, in the “Evolution of Ritual” chapter, says that Confucius believed: When the Great Dao is put into practice, the world belongs to everyone. People cherish not only their own parents and children, because the ways of filial devotion and benevolence have been extended to all. Thus, the elderly can enjoy their later years in peace, adults have opportunities to put their abilities to use, and children can grow up healthy. Widowers, widows, orphans, the helpless, and those with disabilities or illnesses are also provided for.

End of Volume Four of the Handwritten Commentary on the Extended Meaning of the Dao De Jing.

Volume Five of the Handwritten Commentary on the Extended Meaning of the Dao De Jing

Compiled by Wang Shouzheng, a reclusive gentleman of Qing’an at Wufeng

Chapter Seventeen of the “Taishang” section

The best form of governance is when the people merely know that a ruler exists. Next best is when the people feel close to and praise their ruler.

The Extended Meaning quotes the Zuo Tradition: “The highest achievement is to establish virtue; next is to establish merit.”

The Spring and Autumn Annals records that Mu Shu was sent as an envoy to the state of Jin. Fan Xuanzi welcomed him and asked, “The ancients spoke of ‘dying without perishing.’ What does that mean?”

Fan Xuanzi explained that his ancestors had belonged to the Tao Tang clan since before the Yu dynasty. In the Xia dynasty they were called the Yulong clan, in the Shang the Shiwei clan, and in the Zhou the Tangdu clan. Later, the son of Du Bo, Xi Shu, fled to Jin. By the fourth generation, when the family reached Shi Hui, he was granted land at Fan and took Fan as his surname. The Fan family presided over alliances and wielded power in Jin. Surely this was the kind of legacy passed down through generations?

Mu Shu replied, “As I understand it, this is called holding rank and receiving emoluments generation after generation; it is not called ‘not perishing.’ In Lu, there was an earlier minister named Zang Wenzhong. After his death, his teachings continued to be handed down. That is what I mean. I have heard that the highest achievement is to establish virtue, the next is to accomplish great deeds, and the next is to leave behind one’s words. Only when these endure for a long time without being discarded can they be called ‘not perishing.’ As for continuing a surname, preserving a lineage, and keeping ancestral rites going from one generation to the next, every state has such families. Even receiving generous emoluments for generations cannot be called ‘not perishing.’”

The Commentary on the Meaning says, “Those above are as free as branches; those below are as simple as wild deer.”

The “Tian Di” chapter of the Zhuangzi records Men Wugui’s reply to Chizhang Manji: “In the age of Perfect Virtue, the worthy were not exalted, nor were people driven to take up office. Those in high positions acted freely through non-action, while those below were as simple as wild deer.” The commentary explains that those above ruled through non-action, while the people remained simple, like wild deer, unrestrained by the rites imposed by rulers.

The Commentary on the Meaning also quotes the Zhuangzi: “When the sages appeared, they forced the practice of benevolence and deliberately pursued righteousness, and only then did the world begin to fall into confusion.”

The “Horses’ Hooves” chapter of the Zhuangzi says that only after the sages appeared did people reluctantly exert themselves to practice benevolence and self-consciously set up standards for judging right and wrong. “Bie xie” describes the manner of reluctant exertion, while “di qi” describes self-conscious affectation. Both terms refer to deliberately striving for benevolence and righteousness.

The Yanyi says: Yao’s benevolent De was as vast as the sky, and the people drew close to him as they would turn toward the sun. Shun possessed a De that inspired admiration, as though it carried a fragrant aroma, and the people all delighted in him. So wherever he moved, a settlement gathered around him. At the old town of Deng, more than a hundred thousand households followed him there.

The “Xu Wugui” chapter of the Zhuangzi also contains a related account. The commentaries explain that Shun moved three times to avoid yielding to Danzhu, unwilling to gather people around himself or lead them. The people admired his De, and a hundred thousand followed him; settlements formed wherever he lived. “Dengxu” is a place name.

The Yanyi says: Children sang in praise of Yao on Kangqu, a broad road that led in every direction.

The “Zhongni” chapter of the Liezi records that Yao put on ordinary clothes and went walking along Kangqu, where he heard children singing: “No one cares for and nurtures our many people better than you. The people need not deliberately think things through; they naturally follow Heaven’s principles.” Here, “zheng” means “numerous.” All things can each find their proper place because they are not forced against their natural nature. If one uses knowledge and intention to control the nature of all things, how could that be called following the Dao of Heaven?

The Yanyi says: The people sang in praise of Shun to nominate and acclaim him.

The Mencius, in “Wan Zhang I,” records Mencius’s reply to Wan Zhang: Shun assisted Yao for twenty-eight years. This was not something human effort could arrange; it was Heaven’s will. After Yao died, Shun completed the three-year mourning period, then went south of the Southern River to keep out of the way of Yao’s son.

The passage from the Mencius, “Wan Zhang I,” says: Mencius replied to Wan Zhang, “Shun assisted Yao for twenty-eight years. This could not have been accomplished through human strength alone; it was Heaven’s will. After Yao died, when the three-year mourning period had ended, Shun withdrew south of the Southern River and yielded the throne to Yao’s son. Yet the feudal lords who came to pay their respects did not visit Yao’s son; they went to Shun. Those who had cases to bring did not go to Yao’s son; they went to Shun. And the people sang praises not to Yao’s son, but to Shun. So we say this was Heaven’s will.” The Southern River lies south of Jizhou, in what is now Yuzhou. Here, “lawsuits and criminal cases” refers to cases that had not been decided, prompting people to appeal.

Next, one may inspire fear or be treated with contempt. When trustworthiness is lacking, people will not believe you.

The commentary explains: The people of the Shang swore oaths, and from then on the people began to turn away. The people of the Zhou held covenant assemblies, and from then on the people began to doubt.

The Spring and Autumn Annals records that in the fourth year of Duke Zhao, King Ling of Chu met with the feudal lords at Shen. Jiao Ju said to the king, “I have heard that the feudal lords do not all rally to one person. They cannot be made to obey simply by calling them. Treat them with courtesy, and they will rally to you.”

Jiao Ju continued, “The deeds of the six ancient kings and the two hegemons were all ways of displaying ritual propriety to the feudal lords, and thereby securing their obedience. The deeds of the six kings were Xia Qi’s banquet at Diaotai; Shang Tang’s receiving the Mandate of Heaven at Jingbo; King Wu of Zhou’s gathering of the feudal lords at Mengjin; King Cheng of Zhou’s hunting assembly at Qiyang; King Kang of Zhou’s receiving the feudal lords at Feng Palace; and King Mu of Zhou’s covenant meeting at Tushan. The deeds of the two hegemons were Duke Huan of Qi’s campaign at Shaoling and Duke Wen of Jin’s covenant at Jiantu.

When Jie of Xia held a covenant meeting at Ren, the state of Youmin rebelled against him. When Zhou of Shang held a hunting assembly at Li, the eastern Yi states revolted. When King You of Zhou held a covenant meeting at Mount Taishi, the Yi and Di peoples also rebelled against the Zhou. These events all show rulers indulging in arrogance and extravagance; the feudal lords therefore rejected their commands. Now Your Majesty is just as arrogant. I fear you will have difficulty achieving your aims.” King Ling of Chu did not heed him.

The Book of Documents records Shang Tang’s “Oath of Tang.” King Wu of Zhou once gathered the feudal lords at Muye and Mengjin.

The Exposition says: When there is sincerity in the heart, it is called “cheng.”

The ninth five line of the Zhongfu Hexagram in the Book of Changes says, “With trust binding them together, there is no blame.” This means that when people are sincere toward one another and closely bound together, there will be no misfortune. “Binding them together” describes trust linking people to one another. When one is among people joined by sincerity and occupies a position of honor as their leader, one must not abandon sincerity. With sincerity, one can avoid fault.

The Exposition says: When spoken words are fulfilled, it is called “xin.”

Youzi said, “If the trust you uphold accords with what is right, your words can be fulfilled. If your respect accords with ritual propriety, you can avoid disgrace. If the person you rely on is worthy of closeness, you may honor him as your ruler.”

The commentary elaborates: Duke Huan of Qi did not break the agreement he made with Cao Gui. This refers to Cao Mo’s making of a covenant.

The Records of the Grand Historian states: Cao Mo was a man of Lu who served Duke Zhuang of Lu through his bravery. Duke Zhuang valued courage and appointed Cao Mo as a general of Lu. Cao Mo led the army against Qi, but was driven back three times. Duke Zhuang grew afraid and offered the town of Sui to make peace, yet kept Cao Mo in command.

Duke Huan of Qi agreed to meet Duke Zhuang of Lu and make a covenant at Ke. Just after the two had sworn their covenant on the altar, Cao Mo seized Duke Huan with a dagger. None of Duke Huan’s attendants dared to move. Duke Huan asked, “What do you want?” Cao Mo said, “Qi is strong and Lu is weak. The great state has seized far too much of Lu’s territory. Lu’s city walls are now in ruins, almost reaching the border of Qi. You should give this careful thought.”

Duke Huan agreed to return all the territory seized from Lu. When Cao Mo had finished speaking, he lowered the dagger, stepped down from the altar, turned north, and returned to his place among the ministers. His expression did not change, and his speech and bearing were just as before. Duke Huan was enraged and wanted to break the agreement. Guan Zhong advised him, “You must not. To covet a small gain in the present and satisfy yourself at the moment would cost you the trust of the feudal lords and, with it, the support of all under Heaven. It would be better to return the land to Lu.” So Duke Huan ceded the seized territory back to Lu, and all the land Lu had lost in Cao Mo’s three defeats was restored.

The commentary elaborates: The people of Jin did not go back on their word when they attacked the state of Yuan.

The Dao De Jing says, “Only after the Great Dao declined did talk of benevolence and righteousness arise.”

When the people of Jin went to attack the state of Yuan, Lord Wenhou led the troops on campaign. The ruler of Jin besieged Yuan with provisions for only three days, and agreed that if Yuan did not surrender, he would withdraw after three days. When the three days had passed, Yuan had not surrendered, so the ruler of Jin ordered a retreat. Soon afterward, scouts reported that Yuan was about to surrender. The officers urged him to wait, but the ruler of Jin said, “Trustworthiness is a treasure of the state and what the people rely on. If we gain Yuan but lose our trustworthiness, how can we protect the people? We would lose even more.” So the Jin army continued its retreat. Later, Yuan surrendered of its own accord, and the other feudal lords also submitted to Jin. This was because the ruler of Jin kept his word, just as he had when he set out to attack Yuan.

The commentary says: Wu Qi did not withhold the reward promised to the person who moved the axle.

According to the Records of the Grand Historian, Wu Qi was a general of Wei. As he prepared to attack Qin, he worried that his soldiers would not trust his orders. He therefore buried a chariot axle beside the eastern gate of the capital and posted a notice saying, “Anyone who can move it to the western gate will receive one hundred mu of farmland and houses, and one hundred jin of gold.” Three days passed, and no one dared to move it. Wu Qi then increased the reward to five hundred mu of farmland and houses, while keeping the gold reward at one hundred jin. Later, someone moved the axle, and Wu Qi delivered the promised reward in full. After that, he recruited soldiers to attack Qin and ultimately won. This is an example of not withholding the reward promised to the person who moved the axle.

The commentary says: Marquis Wen of Wei did not break his agreement with the official responsible for the forests, mountains, rivers, and marshes.

According to the Records of the Grand Historian, Marquis Wen of Wei had agreed with this official to go hunting the next day. When the day came, Marquis Wen was enjoying wine and music with his ministers, and heavy rain began to fall. Still, he ordered a carriage to be prepared so he could travel to the countryside. Those around him said, “The banquet is in full swing, and it is raining. Where are you going?” Marquis Wen replied, “I cannot think only of my own enjoyment. Since I made an agreement with the official, how could I fail to keep it? I would be afraid of breaking my word.” So he set out in the rain.

The Zhuangzi says that fish live in water without thinking about one another; people who are at ease in the Dao and its arts, too, can forget one another and need not deliberately bind themselves together.

The “Great Ancestral Teacher” chapter of the Zhuangzi says: When springs dry up, fish are stranded together on land, breathing on one another and moistening one another with spittle. This is not as good as each living freely in rivers and lakes, without being entangled with one another.

The Daodejing says, “When wisdom appears, great hypocrisy arises.” The Zhuangzi says that small cleverness must be cast aside for great wisdom to become clear. Small cleverness often serves personal interests, while great wisdom follows the course of all things.

The “Duke Ling of Wei” chapter of the Analects says, “Spending all day with people, yet never speaking of what is right, while delighting in showing off one’s small cleverness—this is difficult.” Here, “small cleverness” refers to selfish motives. When conversation does not concern what is right, corrupt and extravagant desires can grow unchecked; a fondness for small cleverness can lead one to become accustomed to taking risks and relying on luck. “This is difficult” means that such a person will find it hard to cultivate De (Virtue/Power), and may also invite misfortune.

The “Horses’ Hooves” chapter of the Zhuangzi says that a horse’s nature is to eat grass, drink water, and stand with its legs raised. The commentary explains that this passage’s meaning has already been discussed in detail earlier, so it is not quoted in full here.

The Zhuangzi describes the people of the ancient age of Huxi, a legendary ruler of high antiquity whom some identify with the Flame Emperor: They lived without knowing what they were doing, and went out without knowing where they were headed. After eating their fill, they played, patting their bellies and roaming freely. The commentary explains that “zhi” means to go somewhere; the people played like infants and wandered at ease like children.

The Daodejing says that rites and music are imposed to correct the conduct of people throughout the world, while benevolence and righteousness are held aloft to console their hearts.

A passage copied from “The Horses’ Hooves” chapter of the Zhuangzi says: People bend and stoop, turning this way and that in formal bows, using such rites to discipline the body. They also fix their minds on admiration and pursuit to console the heart. So they rise on tiptoe to show off their strength, become arrogant, and consider themselves clever. They deceive and scheme, exhausting themselves as they compete to chase fame and profit, never knowing when enough is enough. Alas, these are the harms caused by carrying the standards left by the sages too far.

“Only when kinfolk are at odds do reputations for filial devotion and kindness emerge; only when a state is in turmoil do loyal ministers come to light.”

The Book of Rites says: “When the Great Dao prevailed, the world belonged to everyone. People selected the able and worthy, valued trustworthiness, and cultivated harmony. Thus, people cared not only for their own parents and children: the elderly could enjoy their later years, adults could put their abilities to use, and children could grow up. Widowers, widows, orphans, people with no one to rely on, and those with disabilities were all cared for.”

Here the text also cites “filial devotion and kindness.” In the Analects, Ji Kangzi asked Confucius, “How can the people be made respectful, loyal, and willing to apply themselves?” Confucius replied, “Treat the people with dignity, and they will be respectful. Be filial to your parents and kind to others, and the people will be loyal.” In other words, show respect and devotion to one’s family and kindness to the wider community. The Erya says: “Treating one’s parents well is called filial devotion.”

“Ministers whose eyes were gouged out and whose hearts were cut open” refers to people who suffered cruel punishments for their loyalty to a ruler or state.

The Basic Annals of Yin in the Records of the Grand Historian relates that Zixin, King Zhou of Shang, acted without regard for the Way, and people throughout the realm therefore called him “Zhou.” The rules for posthumous titles say that “harming what is right and damaging good conduct” is called “Zhou.” King Zhou was debauched and tyrannical, and never changed. Weizi urged him repeatedly, but he would not listen. Weizi then consulted with the Grand Tutor and the Junior Tutor and left.

Big an was a member of King Zhou’s royal clan. He said that a minister ought to remonstrate even at the cost of his life, and so pressed the king to accept his advice. The king grew angry and said, “I have heard that a sage’s heart has seven openings.” He then cut open Big an’s chest to examine his heart. The “Robber Zhi” chapter of the Zhuangzi says: “Big an had his heart cut out, and Wu Zixu had his eyes gouged out. These are calamities brought on by loyalty.” These ministers, whose hearts were cut out and eyes gouged out, came to be known as loyal men who upheld their principles even unto death only after their rulers had fallen into disorder. Hence the saying: “Only when a state is in disorder do loyal ministers become apparent.”

Wang Shouzheng explains: Gu Sou, Shun’s father, was foolish and stubborn, and Shun was therefore known as a man of great filial piety.

The “Canon of Yao” in the Book of Documents says that Shun was the son of Gu Sou. His father was foolish and stubborn, his mother ill-tempered, and his younger brother Xiang arrogant and disrespectful. Yet Shun still worked to bring harmony to his family. He treated them with deep filial devotion and did not let them fall into wrongdoing; therefore, he was known as a man of great filial piety. The “Ten Thousand Chapters, Part One” of the Mencius says: “The truly great filial person longs for his parents all his life. I saw this in Great Shun, who still longed for his parents at the age of fifty.”

Wang Shouzheng explains: Zeng Xi was harsh, yet Zeng Shen can still be said to have known how to care well for his father.

The “Li Lou, Part One” of the Mencius says that when Zeng Shen cared for his father, Zeng Xi, he always served him food with wine and meat. When the meal was cleared away, he would always ask who should be given the leftovers. If he asked whether anything remained, Zeng Xi would answer that it did. This is what it means to care for one’s father in a way that fulfills his wishes. In serving one’s parents, doing as Zeng Shen did is enough.

Chapter Nineteen: Cut Off Sagehood and Abandon Cleverness

Cut off the esteem for sages and abandon clever ingenuity, and the people will benefit a hundredfold.

Wang Shouzheng explains: The Zhuangzi says, “Strike down sage wisdom and give free rein to thieves; only then will the world begin to be well governed.”

The “Cutting Open Satchels” chapter of the Zhuangzi says, “Strike down sage wisdom.” The commentary explains that “strike down” means to attack. Here, “strike down” likewise means to disparage benevolence and righteousness and do away with sage wisdom. When people no longer prize rare goods, there is no need to rely on harsh punishments to guard against thieves; in this way, the world can be at peace.

When petty cleverness is cast aside, true great wisdom will become clear.

The Zhuangzi, in “External Things,” says: “Petty cleverness plans only for oneself; great wisdom follows the way of all things.”

A disciple of Zhi asked him, “Is there a Dao even in being a thief?” Zhi replied, “Whatever one does, how could there be no Dao in it?”

The Zhuangzi discusses this idea at length in “Rifling Trunks.”

The Zhuangzi records that one night, Lord Yuan of Song dreamed of a person with disheveled hair peering in through a side door.

Master Cheng Xuanying explains that Lord Yuan was the ruler of the state of Song. The word “a” means winding or twisting; here it refers to a room with a winding layout and a side door. The related meaning has already been explained in detail above.

When benevolence and righteousness are cast aside, the people will return to their natural affection for their parents and loving care for their children.

In the Mencius, “King Hui of Liang, Part One,” Mencius tells King Hui of Liang: “A person without benevolence abandons their family; a person without a sense of righteousness puts their ruler last.” Here, “abandon” means to forsake, and “put last” means to give something lower priority. In other words, a person of benevolence is bound to love their family, and a person who values righteousness is bound to keep the ruler’s affairs in mind.

When cunning and self-interest are cast aside, thieves will no longer appear.

Here, “cunning” refers to ingenuity and contrivance. It also includes carving and polishing, making devices, and setting up bolts and locks as means of pursuing private gain.

The “Rifling Trunks” chapter of the Zhuangzi says: When a great thief comes, he hoists a chest onto his back, pries open a box, and carries off a bundle, fleeing for fear that the seals and locks might not be secure enough. He carves all kinds of figures, yet this is not considered a superior craft—for example, a man of Wei carved a monkey from a jujube pit, while a man of Song carved a leaf from a leaf of the paper mulberry tree. To “carve” means to work jade and stone; after carving, they must be polished again and again.

The “Heaven and Earth” chapter of the Zhuangzi says: A man growing vegetables laughed angrily and said, “I once heard my teacher say that using machines brings machine-related tasks. Once those tasks arise, a mind of clever calculation develops. When clever thoughts take root in the heart, one can no longer preserve one’s pure and unblemished nature.”

The pearls, jade, measuring vessels, weights and balances, tallies, and seals mentioned here are all objects and systems established by human design.

The “Rifling Trunks” chapter of the Zhuangzi says: People made the dou and hu to measure things: ten sheng make one dou, and five dou and four sheng make one hu. A great thief would steal the measuring vessels along with what they contained. People made weights and balances to weigh things. A “weight” is the counterweight, and a “balance” is the beam; a great thief would steal the counterweight and beam as well.

People made tallies and seals as tokens of verification. A “tally” is a bronze fish or a wooden tablet; a “seal” is the ruler’s jade seal. A great thief would steal the tallies and seals too.

Chapter Twenty: “Cut Off Learning, and There Will Be No Worries”

Cut off worldly learning, and there will be no worries. How great is the difference between “wei” and “e,” two ways of responding? How much difference is there between good and evil?

The “learning” to be cut off here is the worldly learning described in the Zhuangzi: people try to use it to recover their original nature.

This passage is quoted from the “Cultivating Nature” chapter of the Zhuangzi. The commentary asks: How far apart are “wei” and “e”? And how far apart are good and evil?

The Zhuangzi points out that people have already been shaped by worldly influences, yet still hope to restore the roots of their nature and life through worldly learning. The more they pursue this, the more likely they are to stray from the right path.

What people fear cannot simply be left unfearful. The affairs of the world are vast and turbulent, seeming to have no end.

The Book of Odes says, “The night is not yet over.” This means that dawn has not yet come and the night watch’s clepsydra, an ancient timekeeping device, is still measuring the hours.

“Mao Commentary on the Odes: Lesser Odes, ‘The Court Torches’” praises King Xuan of Zhou. The poem says: “What time is it in the night? The night is not yet ended. Torches blaze brightly in the courtyard; the nobleman arrives, and the bells on his carriage ring out clear and sweet.”

Chapter Twenty-One: “The Appearance of Vast Virtue”

The Dao is a presence that is elusive and difficult to see clearly. Yet amid this elusiveness, all kinds of forms appear; between seeming to exist and seeming not to exist, there are also real things.

The “True Ruler” spoken of by Zhuangzi—the true nature that governs body and mind—is what we now call a person’s nature.

The “Discussion on Making All Things Equal” in the Zhuangzi asks: “Are these activities of body and mind all servants and concubines? Can they not govern one another? Or do they take turns as ruler and subject? Is there perhaps another true ruler?” Whether or not one seeks and finds it, one’s true nature is neither diminished nor enhanced. The point is this: a person who acts in accordance with their true nature will not be shaken by praise or blame from the outside world, even if their status is lowly, and will remain content in their proper place. Thus, whether others understand them or not, they can remain as they are.

The Dao is deep and obscure, yet within it are subtle things. These subtle things are real and not illusory, and they contain evidence that can be trusted.

The commentary gives examples of natural transformation: the roots of the crow-foot plant gradually grow larger; human blood turns into wild fire; a rotten melon becomes a fish; and a virtuous woman turns into stone. These are examples of things transforming naturally in response to what they encounter.

The “Tianrui” chapter of the Liezi says: “The transformations of life and death are difficult to fathom. What is born here may die there; what dies there may be born here. The transformation of a single Qi can produce ten thousand forms. When things encounter different influences, they naturally transform.” The Book of Transformations says that wuzu is a kind of plant. Zheng’s commentary on the Erya says it grows in trees and is commonly called “yi”; its name varies from place to place.

Wang Shouzheng says: The account of Zhang Hua serving as Minister of Works during Emperor Hui of Jin’s reign is already quite detailed, so it will not be copied again here.

This concludes the fifth scroll of The Marvelous Commentary on the Extended Meaning of the True Scripture of the Dao and Its Virtue.

Handwritten Notes on the Extended Meaning of the True Scripture of the Dao and Its Virtue, Scroll Six

Compiled by Wang Shouzheng, an unheralded recluse of Qing’an at Five Peaks

“Bent, Yet Whole,” Chapter Twenty-Two

By yielding in the world, one can instead remain whole; by being held down, one can instead stretch out; low places can instead be filled; worn and damaged things can instead be renewed. Taking little can bring gain, while craving much can lead to confusion.

Wang Shouzheng explains: Lin Xiangru’s deference toward Lian Po illustrates this principle.

Lian Po and Lin Xiangru both held office in Zhao, and Lian Po’s rank was lower than Lin Xiangru’s. Lian Po was therefore angry and said, “I have served the state with distinction, yet I rank below Lin Xiangru. This is a disgrace to me.” He also threatened that if he met Lin Xiangru on the road, he would certainly humiliate him.

When Lin Xiangru heard this, he often had his carriage take another route to avoid Lian Po. His attendants could not understand and asked, “Our minister does not fear mighty Qin. Why, then, does he fear Lian Po?” Lin Xiangru replied, “The reason Qin dares not treat Zhao lightly is that it fears me and General Lian Po. If General Lian Po and I quarrel, it would be like two tigers fighting: neither could remain whole. Zhao would be in danger, while Qin would benefit. I yield to him to protect the state. How could this be for my own private gain?”

When Lian Po heard this, he bared his upper body and came with a bundle of thorn branches on his back to apologize. Wang Shouzheng considers that Lian Po’s shame led him to correct himself, demonstrating how one’s integrity can move another person and bring them to amend their ways.

Wang Shouzheng adds: Some people, though gifted with worthy abilities, can make their virtue seem incomplete and keep it concealed.

He cites Zhuangzi’s “Shuli Shu” from The Human World as an example. Shuli Shu’s body was deformed: his chin was tucked near his navel, his shoulders rose above his neck, and the topknot on his head pointed straight toward the sky. His unusual appearance serves here to illustrate “making one’s virtue seem incomplete”: concealing one’s sharpness and avoiding the misfortunes that can come from displaying one’s talents and virtue.

The Zhuangzi, in the chapter “In the Human Realm,” describes Zhili Shu as having a deformed body: his chin sank close to his navel, his shoulders rose above his neck, the topknot on his head pointed straight toward the sky, his internal organs sat unusually high, and his thighs looked like ribs. He made a living by mending and washing clothes, and also supported ten people by shaking yarrow stalks to tell fortunes. When the government recruited warriors, he joined the crowd and waved his arms to volunteer. When it conscripted laborers, his chronic illness exempted him from service. The government distributed grain to people who were ill, and he received three zhong, six shi, and four dou of grain, along with ten bundles of firewood. Zhong, shi, and dou were ancient units of measure.

Though his body was impaired, Zhili Shu could still support himself and enjoy a long life. In the same way, a person can preserve themselves by keeping their De (Virtue/Power) free of ostentation and not chasing fame. If people cultivate body and mind in this way, can they not preserve their good name for a long time?

The Yi says, “Through simplicity and ease, the principles of all-under-Heaven are grasped.” This means that the principles underlying things are rooted in simplicity and ease. Once we grasp these principles, we can understand the workings of all matters under Heaven appropriately. The commentary also says that the principles of all-under-Heaven never depart from simplicity and ease; accordingly, each matter can be handled in a way suited to it.

The Zhuangzi, in the chapter “Perfecting One’s Nature,” says, “Refinement obscures substance; extensive learning drowns the mind.” Excessive concern with refinement can obscure one’s plain nature, while pursuing knowledge without restraint can cause the mind and spirit to become absorbed in it. The commentary explains that those who hope to govern the world through extensive learning forget that plainness is the foundation of refinement; when literary elegance becomes excessive, it conceals what is genuine. Broad knowledge is meant to support the mind, but becoming absorbed in study can instead cause the spirit to lose its way. We should therefore set aside excessive learning and embellishment in order to experience the beauty of Wuwei (non-action).

The Liezi says that those who pursue learning may harm themselves by chasing too many methods.

The Liezi, in “Explaining the Talisman,” says: “The Great Dao lost a sheep because the roads branched in too many directions; the seeker of learning lost their nature because there were too many methods.” Lu’s commentary explains that the sheep stands for a person’s Shen (spirit), the inner spirit. To preserve the spirit and not lose it is to accord with the Dao (the Way). Once it is lost, one is like someone chasing a stray sheep down branching paths: in the end, it is hard to recover. If one simply preserves the inner spirit without being shaken by gain or loss, one can reach a state of depending on nothing. Fixating too much on labels such as benevolence and righteousness leads to the same problem.

In the Liezi, Gengsangzi says that when many people draw their bows at once and shoot at a single eagle, the bird cannot help but be hit. Here the bird represents the human mind: when thoughts multiply and emotions grow confused, the mind is like a bird under the aim of many archers, unable to settle. If emotions such as grief and joy can already damage one’s nature, how much more can the myriad things of the world tug at the mind and spirit? With external things constantly stirring and bewildering a person throughout life, how could one’s life escape harm?

The Liezi, in “Nurturing the Spirit,” also uses a swan as an example: when everyone bends a bow and shoots at one swan, how could it avoid being hit? This illustrates how the many and dazzling things of the world can disturb the mind and spirit.

Water comes closest to the Dao. Whether it is directed east or west, it flows with the terrain. It neither contends with the myriad things nor obstructs them. Here the text cites Gaozi’s words in the “Gaozi I” chapter of the Mencius: “Human nature is like rushing water. Open a channel eastward and it flows east; open one westward and it flows west.” The original passage uses this to illustrate water’s tendency to flow downward, nourish the myriad things, and not contend.

Thus the sage holds to unity and serves as a standard for all under Heaven. He does not deliberately display himself, and so is clear-sighted; he does not consider himself right, and so his name is recognized; he does not boast, and so he accomplishes his work; he does not vaunt himself, and so he endures.

“Yu Shun’s four eyes were bright” means that Yu Shun had keen hearing and clear sight, and could perceive in every direction.

The text copied from the “Shun Dian” chapter of the Book of Documents says: On the first day of the first month, Shun made offerings at the temple of Wen Zu, the ancestral shrine, and reported to the ancestors. He consulted the Four Peaks, officials responsible for the affairs of the four regions, about governing the state; opened the gates in all four directions; examined conditions across the regions; and listened widely to the views of people from every quarter. The commentary explains: “Consult” means to deliberate, and “open” means to make accessible. After reporting to the ancestral temple and assuming the throne, Shun discussed state affairs with the Four Peaks, opened the gates in all four directions, and welcomed capable and worthy people from across the realm. He also broadened what he saw and heard to learn about conditions throughout the regions and dispel ignorance.

The Extended Meaning says: The Huainanzi records that after Zhao Jianzi died, before he had been buried, Zhongmou did not come to take part in the rites. Xiangzi then raised troops to attack Zhongmou. This account is copied from the Huainanzi, where it is described in detail, so it is not copied again here.

“Sparse Words Are Natural,” Chapter Twenty-Three

Speaking little accords with nature. A gale cannot blow all morning, and a downpour cannot last all day.

The Extended Meaning says: “Sparse” means few or brief. The Book of Changes says that the words of a fortunate and virtuous person are few, while the words of an impatient person are many.

Here the text copies a passage from the “Appended Statements” of the Commentary on the Book of Changes: Those who intend to rebel speak with shame in their voices; those who are inwardly doubtful speak incoherently; the words of a fortunate and virtuous person are few, while those of an impatient person are many; those who slander the good speak evasively; and those who have lost their integrity speak without sound reason. Of these six kinds of speech, only the fortunate and virtuous person speaks little. This is why the passage is used to explain the principle that sparse speech is natural.

What makes gales and downpours so forceful? Heaven and Earth. Even the winds and rains brought about by Heaven and Earth cannot last long—how much less can human efforts endure?

The Extended Meaning says: A person living between Heaven and Earth is like a single hair on a horse—is that not so?

Here the text copies words from the “Autumn Floods” chapter of the Zhuangzi: A person between Heaven and Earth is like a hair on a horse. Compared with the myriad things, a person is like a hair on a horse. Size exists in different degrees, and they cannot be measured against one another. What, then, is there to worry about?

Those who accord with the Dao are received by the Dao; those who accord with De are received by De; those who accord with the loss of the Dao receive the consequences of losing the Dao. When trust is insufficient, people will not believe.

People tend to respond to things that are like themselves. Thus, when a tiger gives a long roar, wind rises in the valley.

This passage cites the statement in the ninth line of the fifth place of the Qian hexagram in the Yijing: “Clouds follow the dragon; wind follows the tiger.” The dragon lives in water, and clouds form when water vapor condenses. So when the dragon roars, clouds gather: this is how clouds arise in the dragon’s wake. The tiger is a fierce beast, and wind is a force in motion. So when the tiger roars, wind rises in the valley: this is how wind moves in the tiger’s wake. The passage explains that living beings can resonate with the inanimate phenomena of nature: when their Qi is alike, they respond to one another.

People of like Virtue draw close to one another; those whose conduct is at odds grow distant. When the Laozi says, “When trust is insufficient, there is no trust,” it means that if a person lacks sincerity, others will not trust them.

The Appended Statements of the Yijing says: “A crane calls in a quiet place, and its young answer in harmony. I have fine wine and wish to share it with you.” The Correct Meaning commentary explains that although the crane calls from a hidden place, its young answer from afar because creatures of the same kind can resonate with one another. “I have fine wine” means that I do not keep what is good for myself alone, but wish to share it with others. When others feel this generosity, they too will draw near and join me.

People have different dispositions. Even organs as closely related as the liver and gallbladder may become estranged, like the states of Chu and Yue. But when people follow the same Dao, Yi and Xia—the ancient terms for peoples of different regions—can live together like one family. People draw close by following a similar Dao, and all things respond without conflict.

This is like “drawing water with a Fangzhu.” It is said that in the Eastern Sea there is a large clam about one foot and two inches long, called a “Fangzhu.” If its shell is taken, wiped clean, held up to the moonlight, and placed over a vessel, water can be collected. A solar mirror, an ancient fire-making device, gathers sunlight and produces fire when pointed toward the sun.

A yangsui is a fire-making device cast from metal, shaped like a cup and sometimes like a mirror. Wipe it clean, let sunlight shine on it, and hold mugwort beneath it to catch the fire. Both the yangsui and water vessels make use of the light of the sun and moon. Through the resonance of similar kinds of Qi, they produce water or fire.

Chapter Twenty-Four: “Those Who Rise on Tiptoe Do Not Stand Firm”

Those who rise on tiptoe cannot stand steadily; those who take long strides cannot walk far.

Commentators explain that qi means raising one’s heels and stretching one’s neck to look into the distance, while kua means gripping something between the legs. The Tang dynasty Celestial Master Du says that standing on tiptoe can only stretch the body for a moment to gaze afar; it is impossible to remain standing that way for long. In Empress Chen’s “Rhapsody of the Long Gate,” the phrase “stretching her neck and raising her heels” depicts someone longing for the ruler’s visit, craning her neck and standing on tiptoe. In the same way, one cannot travel far while gripping something between one’s legs.

This serves as a metaphor for those who cultivate the Dao. If they cannot devote themselves wholeheartedly and place their trust in the Great Dao, but continue to harbor doubts and expect immediate results from a passing impulse, they are unlikely to achieve much.

The commentators also cite a story from Zhuangzi’s “Autumn Waters.” A young man from Shouling in Yan went to Handan in Zhao to learn the local way of walking. Before he had mastered the people of Handan’s manner of walking, he had already forgotten his own. In the end, he had to crawl home. The commentators explain that the boy was still young, which is why he was called “the youth.” He abandoned his own way of walking to imitate others, and so lost on both counts.

Those who assume they are right cannot see clearly; those who assume they are correct cannot make themselves understood; those who boast of themselves achieve no merit; those who exalt themselves cannot endure.

The Yanyi says: Yang Zijü traveled south toward Pei. When he reached Liang, he met Laozi. Laozi had gone only halfway when he looked up at the sky and sighed. “At first, I thought you could still be taught. Now it seems you cannot.” Yang Zijü’s air of arrogance had grown even stronger than before. He asked Laozi what he had done wrong. Laozi said, “Your gaze is haughty and your manner is showy. You are like this wherever you go. Who would want to spend time with you?”

A passage copied from the Liezi, “The Yellow Emperor,” says that Yang Zhu’s courtesy name was Zijü. “Haughty and swaggering” describes his arrogant bearing and exaggerated behavior. “Haughty” means arrogant and lacking humility; “swaggering” means acting self-important and improperly. The point is that inwardly he felt inadequate, yet outwardly put on an air of pride and bluster.

The Yanyi also tells the story of the frog at the bottom of a well. The frog said to a great turtle from the Eastern Sea, “How happy I am here! I can leap up and play on the rim of the well, and when I get tired I can rest beside a broken spot in its wall. When I jump into the water, it supports me up to my armpits and cradles my chin. When I step into the mud, it covers only the tops of my feet. I alone enjoy all this water and rule the well. My happiness could not be greater. Why don’t you come visit more often?”

The great turtle from the Eastern Sea had just put its left foot into the well when its right foot caught on the rim. It withdrew and, from a distance, told the frog about the sea: “Its breadth has no limit; even a thousand miles cannot measure it. Its depth cannot be fathomed; even a thousand fathoms cannot describe it. When Yu the Great controlled the floods, nine years out of ten were marked by overflowing waters, yet the sea did not rise much. In the time of King Tang of Shang, seven years out of eight were marked by drought, yet the sea did not shrink. The sea does not change with the passage of time, nor grow or diminish with the amount of water. That is the joy of the Eastern Sea.”

Hearing this, the frog was so astonished that it lost its composure. The story shows that those who assume they are right often fail to see the limits of their own perspective; true understanding should not be confined by the small world immediately before one.

The well frog is a frog in a shallow well. The gan is the well curb, and the zhou is the brick wall built inside the well. Fu means the instep, ye means the space beneath the arm, and yi means the chin. The great turtle of the Eastern Sea is enormous, swimming among the waves and sometimes resting on land. The small frog in the well lives in cramped quarters, yet considers itself completely at ease there. When it sees the great turtle, it is not afraid. It says, “When I go out, I can leap onto the well curb; when I come in, I can rest beside the broken bricks. When I swim, the water supports my arms and chin; when I tread in the mud, it covers my feet and ankles. I look at creatures like the water flea and crab, then look down at tadpoles and their kind. I am carefree and happy—no one has it better than I do.”

The Extended Commentary says: “Those who boast of themselves” are like Huan, a man of Zheng, who recited and studied at a place called Qiu Shi. After three years he became a Confucian scholar, claiming that his learning nourished nine li like a river and that his beneficence could reach three generations of his clan.

This passage cites a story from the “Lie Yukou” chapter of the Zhuangzi. The commentary explains that shenyin means reciting and studying, Qiu Shi is a place name, and qi means “only” or “just.” Huan was a man from Zheng who studied at Qiu Shi and became a Confucian scholar after three years. Later, Daoists, Confucians, and Mohists argued with one another. Huan’s father supported Di; ten years later, Huan killed himself. This shows that those who boast of themselves have achieved nothing of real worth.

The Extended Commentary also says: “Those who think themselves wise” are like the incident recorded in the history of Jin, when the Prince of Qi rose up with others to attack Zhao Wang Lun. The details need not be copied here. “Give free rein to one’s nature, and one will go too far.”

This passage cites the “Pianmu” chapter of the Zhuangzi: “Webbed toes and an extra finger are produced by nature, but are superfluous to the body; attached lumps of flesh and hanging warts are produced by the body, but are superfluous to one’s nature.”

Chapter Twenty-Five: “There Is a Thing Formed in Confusion”

The passage beginning “There is a thing formed in confusion…” is omitted here. “Give free rein to one’s nature, and one will go too far.”

The “Cambered Toes” chapter of the Zhuangzi says: “Toes joined together, or an extra finger growing from the hand, may arise from human nature, yet they are excess in the body. Folds of flesh and hanging warts growing on the body may arise from bodily form, yet they are excess in human nature.”

Chapter Twenty-Five: There Is a Being Whole and Undivided

There is something whole and undivided that existed before Heaven and Earth.

The Extended Commentary says: The Zhuangzi teaches that the Dao was before the Supreme Ultimate (Taiji), the primordial state before Heaven and Earth separated and Yin and Yang were distinguished, yet this does not make it lofty. It is below the Six Directions—the space of Heaven and Earth, above, below, and the four quarters—yet this does not make it profound. It was born before Heaven and Earth, yet this does not make it ancient; it predates high antiquity, yet this does not make it old.

This passage also appears in the “Great Ancestral Teacher” chapter of the Zhuangzi. The commentaries explain that the Supreme Ultimate refers to the Five Qi, and the Six Extremities to the Six Directions. Though the Dao is above the Five Qi, it is not considered lofty; though below the Six Directions, it is not considered profound. It came before Heaven and Earth, yet is not considered ancient; it predates high antiquity, yet is not considered old. The point is that the Dao is not bounded by height, depth, age, or antiquity, and so is everywhere. Yet it is not confined to any particular place, as though nowhere could it be grasped or fixed.

The Extended Commentary says that the Supreme Ultimate spoken of in the Book of Changes means this.

The “Appended Remarks” of the Book of Changes says: “Thus the Changes contains the Supreme Ultimate. From the Supreme Ultimate come the Two Modes (Yin and Yang); from the Two Modes come the Four Images; from the Four Images come the Eight Trigrams.” The commentary explains that all formed things begin in the formless, and so the Supreme Ultimate gives rise to the Two Modes. “Supreme Ultimate” is a name given to “nonbeing”; it can also be said to name the ultimate source from which something becomes manifest. The Four Images are Metal, Wood, Water, and Fire.

The Dao is silent and still, empty and without form. It exists alone and does not change; it moves and circulates without stopping, and can serve as the source of all things beneath Heaven.

The Extended Commentary says that form and shadow depend on each other, yet the Zhuangzi still says that each changes independently.

The “Discussion on Making All Things Equal” chapter of the Zhuangzi says: “The shadow’s faint outline asked the shadow, ‘Earlier you were walking, and now you have stopped…’”

The Yan yi says: Form and shadow depend on one another. This is like saying that each thing changes independently.

A passage copied from the Zhuangzi, “Discussion on Making All Things Equal,” says: The shadow’s faint outline asked the shadow, “A moment ago you were walking; now you have stopped. A moment ago you were sitting; now you have stood up. Why do you have no fixed way of behaving?” The shadow replied, “Do I act this way because I depend on something? And does what I depend on act this way because it depends on something? Do I depend on the scales on a snake’s belly, or the wings of a cicada? How could I know why things are as they are, or why they are not otherwise?” Guo Xiang’s commentary explains: If the shadow depended on things like snake scales or cicada wings, it would not be hard to understand why it had no fixed way of behaving. But here, the text says this cannot be known because the shadow does not depend on such things; it changes of itself. This passage is cited to show that all things can change independently and remain constant, without being altered by external things.

The Yan yi says: Gathered in to the utmost, it becomes a pure and subtle presence, concealed within a single grain of millet.

A copied passage says: “Grain of millet” comes from the Scripture of Salvation (Duren jing). Xue Youqi’s commentary explains that millet is the most important of the five grains, and grain is the basis of human nourishment. Here, “grain” is used as a metaphor: when a person receives the scripture, it is like life receiving nourishment from food. The Yan yi uses this to explain that the Dao as a presence is vast enough to fill the Great Void, the boundless emptiness, yet small enough to be concealed within a single grain of millet. The subtle and wondrous Dao encompasses everything, yet is not confined by particular things. How could it be in danger? Thus it is said to circulate everywhere without being exhausted.

The Yan yi says: The Great Dao flows throughout the six voids—the positions occupied by the six lines in the Changes, also extended to mean the four directions above and below—and is applied in response to circumstances, without end.

A passage copied from the “Appended Statements” of the Book of Changes says: The book of Changes cannot be left behind; the Dao it embodies is in constant transformation. Things change and flow, never remaining fixed. It circulates throughout the six lines, with no constant position above or below. Firmness and yielding transform into one another, and no fixed rule can sum them up; one can only adapt to change. This means that the Great Dao, like primordial Qi, flows everywhere through the positions of the six lines and fills the space between Heaven and Earth, in all directions above and below. Its applications are inexhaustible, so it is said to circulate everywhere without being exhausted.

I do not know its name, so I call it the Dao. If forced to give it a name, I call it “Great.” Great means moving onward and away; moving onward and away means reaching the distance; reaching the distance means returning.

The Yanyi says: “A zi (personal name) expresses a thing’s qualities; a ming (name) establishes its essential nature.”

The Chao quotes the Tang-era Celestial Master Du’s Guangsheng yi: “A thing is given a ming to identify its essential nature, and a zi to express its qualities. Once a thing appears, its name is established—this is the natural order. Nothing exists without a name. The Spring and Autumn Annals records that on the dingmao day of the ninth month in the sixth year of Duke Huan of Lu, the heir apparent Tong was born. Duke Huan asked Shen Ru what name he should give the child. Shen Ru replied that there were five ways to name someone: based on the circumstances of birth, called ‘trust’; based on virtue, called ‘righteousness’; based on resemblance in appearance, called ‘likeness’; by borrowing the name of something, called ‘borrowing’; and based on the circumstances of one’s father, called ‘association.’

“For example, Tang Shuyu and the Lu prince You were named according to the circumstances of their births. King Wen of Zhou was named Chang, and King Wu of Zhou was named Fa, based on virtue and righteousness. Confucius was named for his resemblance in appearance to Mount Niqiu. When Boyu was born, someone brought a fish as a gift, so he was named Li, after the fish. Lu’s Duke Huan had a son named Tong because he was born on the same day as his father; this followed the circumstances of the father.”

The Yanyi says: “The Dao came into being before Heaven and Earth, so it is difficult to refer to it by a clan name or title.”

The Chao explains the term “clan name”: “The Spring and Autumn Annals records that in the winter of the eighth year of Duke Yin of Lu, the prince Wu Hai died. The prince Yufu asked that a clan name be established for him, so Duke Yin consulted Zhong Zhong. Zhong Zhong replied: ‘The Son of Heaven establishes virtue, then grants a surname based on the circumstances of birth. Once land is bestowed, the place becomes the basis for a clan name. Among the feudal lords, a grandfather’s courtesy name becomes a posthumous title, from which a clan name is formed. If a family has served for generations in a particular office and rendered merit, that office may also become its clan name; an old official title or the name of an old fief may serve as a clan name as well.’ Duke Yin then named the clan Zhan, after the courtesy name of Prince Zhan. Wu Hai was the grandson of Prince Zhan, and so belonged to the Zhan clan.”

Thus, the Dao is vast, Heaven is vast, Earth is vast, and the king is vast. Between Heaven and Earth there are four that are vast, and the king is one of them.

“Under heaven, there is no land that is not the king’s; to the shores of the realm, there are no people who are not the king’s subjects.” This means that all the land under heaven belongs to the ruler, and all the people within the realm are his subjects. The passage is quoted from the Book of Songs, “Northern Hill,” in the Minor Odes, as cited in “Wan Zhang I” of the Mencius. “All” means everywhere, while “to the shores” means along the borders of the realm. Xian Qiumeng, a disciple of Mencius, used these lines to raise a question. Mencius took the opportunity to explain the relationship between Shun and Yao as ruler and subject.

“Everything above the earth belongs to Heaven” means that all things above the ground lie beneath Heaven. The commentary cites the story of “The Man of Qi Worrying about Heaven” from the “Questions of Heaven and Earth” chapter of the Liezi. A man from the state of Qi was so worried that Heaven and Earth might collapse that he could not sleep. Someone reassured him: Heaven is only accumulated Qi, and there is nowhere that Qi is absent. People spend their days stretching, bending, and breathing, living within this Qi, so why worry that Heaven might collapse? On this basis, everything above the ground can be said to belong to Heaven. Here, “Heaven” does not refer only to the deep blue sky high above. The passage also cites the “Free and Easy Wandering” chapter of the Zhuangzi: Is Heaven’s blue color its true color, or does it appear blue because it stretches so far that its end cannot be seen? Looked at from above, Heaven is probably much the same.

“Humanity takes its model from Earth; Earth takes its model from Heaven; Heaven takes its model from the Dao; and the Dao takes its model from what is so of itself.” This means that people model themselves on Earth, Earth on Heaven, Heaven on the Dao, and the Dao follows the natural course of things. Here, “humanity” refers to the ruler. When a ruler models himself on Earth’s stability and stillness, governing through Wuwei (non-action), the realm can accomplish its work.

The commentary quotes the “Way of Heaven” chapter of the Zhuangzi: Heaven does not produce things by its own effort, yet the myriad things come into being naturally; Earth does not make things grow by its own effort, yet the myriad things are naturally nourished; the emperor governs through Wuwei, yet the work of the realm is accomplished. The explanatory gloss says that the ruler should, like Heaven and Earth, nurture and sustain the myriad things, follow the changing seasons, and allow each thing to grow and fulfill its function. In this way, the work of the realm is completed.

“Heavy” is the foundation of “light,” and stillness is the master of agitation.

The Extended Meaning says: Dragons and snakes coil up and remain still so that they can gather their strength, transform, and rise into flight. Tigers and leopards may be fierce, but their restlessness makes them easy targets for hunters, and they meet their end too soon. The Book of Changes, in “The Great Treatise, Part Two,” says: “The inchworm bends its body in order to extend; the dragon and snake hibernate in order to preserve themselves.” As it moves, the inchworm first bends its body so that its hind end can stretch forward. Extension depends on bending; the two rely on each other. Dragons and snakes hibernate by first becoming still, preparing to act later. Only after preserving themselves can they transform and soar. In the chapter “Gengsang Chu” of the Zhuangzi, Gengsang Chu, a disciple of Laozi, says: “There is a great beast, as large as a cart. If it leaves the mountain forest alone, it is bound to fall into a trap.”

Thus, a gentleman may travel all day without leaving the cart that carries his baggage. Even when he sees splendid and imposing sights, he can still dwell in calm and maintain his composure. The Extended Meaning says that “splendid sights” refers to beautiful scenery. Traveling with light baggage may seem faster, but one cannot do without a cart to carry one’s belongings.

A passage from the Zhuangzi, “Gengsang Chu,” says: Nan Rongchu sat up uneasily and said, “I am already advanced in years. How can I still put myself in another’s care and study, so that I may understand these words?” Gengsangzi replied, “My abilities are limited; I am not enough to transform you. Why not go south and pay a visit to Laozi?” Nan Rongchu packed provisions and traveled for seven days and seven nights before reaching Laozi. This passage says that one should travel light when going to study, yet he still took seven days’ worth of food. Even if there were sights worth admiring along the way, how could he leave his luggage and supplies behind to go and see them?

“How could the ruler of a state with ten thousand chariots treat his own person lightly in the world? If he acts lightly, he loses his ministers; if he acts rashly, he loses his throne.”

The Yanyi explains: A ruler is honored as the sovereign who governs a state with ten thousand chariots, and occupies the highest position in the country.

The Mencius, “King Hui of Liang, Part One,” says: “A state with ten thousand chariots.” The commentary explains that “chariots” refers to the number of vehicles. A state with ten thousand chariots is the realm ruled by the Son of Heaven, who holds the highest position. The Son of Heaven governs a territory a thousand li across and can muster ten thousand war chariots.

The Book of Changes, “Appended Statements, Part Two,” says: “The most precious thing for a sage is the throne. How does one hold on to the throne? Through benevolence and virtue. How does one gather the people? Through wealth.” The Zhengyi explains: What a sage prizes most is the throne. The throne represents possession of the land of the state; “treasure” means something of value. One who occupies an honored position can bestow benefits widely and without limit, which is why it is called the “Great Treasure.”

The Yanyi also says: If a ruler behaves lightly, he will bring upon himself the calamity of banishment and be unable to continue serving as ruler.

The “Shun Dian” chapter of the Book of Documents says that Shun sent four wicked men into exile in distant borderlands. He banished Gonggong to Youzhou. According to legend, Shaohao had an unworthy son whom people called “Qiongqi”; this was Gonggong. He had once served Yao as an official in charge of water. Youzhou lay in the north, roughly around You Commandery, and the Zhuangzi calls it “Youdu.” To “banish” here means to settle or exile someone there, preventing him from going elsewhere.

He drove Huandou into exile at Chong Mountain. According to legend, Emperor Jiu had an unworthy son whom people called “Hundun”; this was Huandou. He had joined forces with Gonggong and stirred up disorder in the southern borderlands. “Drive out” means to expel and confine.

He relocated the Sanmiao people to Sanwei. According to legend, Jinyun had an unworthy son whom people called “Taotie.” The text describes him as one of Yao’s feudal lords and says that the Sanmiao state lay around Yuzhang, east of Dongting Lake and west of Pengli Marsh, near the Southern Marchmount. Sanwei was the name of a mountain in the western borderlands, roughly in the area of the western Qiang near Qinzhou. “Punish” here means to imprison and chastise through hardship.

He banished Gun to Mount Yu. Gun was Yu’s father and was found guilty because his efforts to control the waters had failed. All four men harbored wicked intentions and refused to submit to Yao’s instruction, so they were exiled to the borderlands in the four directions.

The “Extended Meaning” says: “When a ruler is not careful to keep secrets, he loses his ministers; when a minister is not careful to keep secrets, he brings danger upon himself.”

The “Appended Statements” of the Book of Changes says: “When a ruler is not careful to keep secrets, he loses his ministers; when a minister is not careful to keep secrets, he brings danger upon himself. If matters requiring secrecy are not kept secret, they will be ruined. Therefore, the exemplary person guards secrets carefully and does not reveal them lightly.” Here, “incipient signs” refers to matters in their earliest, most subtle stages. Such matters should be guarded carefully, and misfortune anticipated and prevented. If secrets are disclosed, troubles follow one after another and the matter is ruined.

The “Extended Meaning” also refers to the account in the ninth year of Duke Xuan in the Zuo Tradition: Duke Ling of Chen, Kong Ning, and Yi Xingfu all had illicit relations with Xia Ji. The copied text says that the meaning of this passage has already been fully explained above, so it is not copied again.

The “Extended Meaning” also refers to Han Xin’s conquest of Qi, and explains that the relevant principles have already been fully discussed, so they are not copied again.

The Yanyi says: The account of Han Xin’s conquest of Qi has already explained the principles in full, so it will not be recorded again.

Chapter Twenty-Seven: Skill in Conduct

Those skilled at walking leave no wheel tracks or footprints. Those skilled at speaking leave no faults. Those skilled at planning do not use counting tokens. Those skilled at closing need no bolt to make a door impossible to open. Those skilled at tying need no rope to make a knot impossible to undo.

The Yanyi says: This is like the “goblet words” in the Zhuangzi—words that adapt to circumstances and take the middle course. A goblet is a vessel for wine; “measuring the middle” means judging what is appropriate.

The Chao explains: The “Metaphors” chapter of the Zhuangzi says that parables make up nine-tenths of its words, words borrowed from others seven-tenths, and goblet words arise naturally day after day. They accord with the natural distinctions among things and can therefore extend without end, serving to explore the principles of things. If nothing is said, all things return to unity. Yet as soon as unity is expressed in words, what is called unity becomes divided; hence the teaching that one should “use silence.” To “take silence as speech” means that even if one speaks throughout one’s life, one remains as though never attached to words.

Things each have their own grounds. Thus some judgments can be made in one way, while others cannot; some things are so, and others are not. What does “so” mean? It means taking a thing as so according to its own circumstances. What does “not so” mean? It means taking it as not so according to its own circumstances. What does “can” mean? It means that something can be done according to its own circumstances. What does “cannot” mean? It means that something cannot be done according to its own circumstances. Things each have their own reasons for being as they are and their own merits; none is wholly without grounds, and none is wholly without merit. Without goblet words, speech could not arise naturally in response to circumstances and accord with the natural distinctions among all things. How, then, could it endure? If speech conforms to this principle, what fault could it leave? Hence the saying: “Those skilled at speaking leave no faults.”

The Yanyi adds: The Zhuangzi says that when one thing is joined to words, it becomes two; when two are joined to one, they become three. From there, the sequence unfolds without end, until even a skilled calculator cannot keep count—let alone fathom the subtle, elusive principles involved.

Zhuangzi says in the Discussion on Making All Things Equal: “Nothing under Heaven is larger than the tip of an autumn animal’s hair, yet Mount Tai seems small by comparison. No one lives longer than a child who dies young, yet Pengzu seems short-lived. Heaven and Earth came into being together with me, and all things form one with me. Once they have formed one, what more can be said? But if something has already been said, how can we say there have been no words? ‘One’ joined with words makes ‘Two’; ‘Two’ plus ‘One’ makes ‘Three.’ Continue calculating from there, and even the best mathematician could not keep count—much less an ordinary person. So moving from ‘Nothing’ to ‘Something’ has already brought us to ‘Three’; how much further would we get by reasoning onward from ‘Something’? Rather than pursue the calculation further, simply follow things as they are.”

The point is that what matters is not to insist on chasing calculations, but to return to the original state of undifferentiated oneness and become one with the Dao (the Way). Why rely on counting rods and calculation? As the saying goes: “One who is skilled at calculation does not use counting rods or other counting devices.”

The extended interpretation says: The human body’s nine orifices—the two eyes, two ears, two nostrils, mouth, and the two lower openings—are gateways through which spirit enters and leaves.

Zhuangzi says in the Knowledge Rambling in the North: “What is bright and manifest arises from what is dark and profound; what has order arises from what is formless. Spirit arises from the Dao, and the root of bodily form arises from essence. All things then depend on bodily form to give rise to one another. Thus, humans, with nine orifices, are born from the womb, while birds and beasts, with eight, are born from eggs. The arrival of things leaves no trace, and their growth has no end. The Dao has no fixed gate or dwelling, yet it reaches in all directions and extends without limit.”

The meaning here is to treat not coming as coming and not going as going. Follow natural inclinations and roam along a path where there is no distinction between advancing and retreating. Let the body rest where there is nothing to pursue, and let the spirit dwell beyond the eight directions. Then entry and exit have no gate, and coming and going have no bounds, allowing one to reach in all directions and run through all things. The extended interpretation explains the nine orifices as gates for the spirit; this may be called skillful closure: without relying on a bolt, it makes them impossible to open.

Therefore, the sage is always skilled at helping people, and so no one is abandoned; always skilled at helping things, and so nothing is abandoned. This is called “inheriting the hidden light”—taking up and applying a wisdom kept out of sight.

The extended interpretation says: Even such things as tiles, horns, ladders, and shields can all be put to use. That is why it says, “always skilled at helping things.”

Therefore, the sage is always skilled at helping people, and so no one is cast aside; always skilled at making use of things, and so nothing is discarded. This is called the wisdom of inheriting and bringing forth the Great Dao.

The Extended Meaning says: Even tiles, tally boards, and ladders each have their uses. Hence the phrase, “always skilled at making use of things.”

The commentary cites the Zhuangzi, “Knowledge Wandered North”: Dongguozi asked Zhuangzi, “Where is what you call the Dao?” Zhuangzi said, “There is nowhere it is not.” Dongguozi asked, “Could you be more specific?” He wanted Zhuangzi to point out precisely where the Dao was. Zhuangzi then said, “It is among the ants.” Dongguozi asked, “How can it be in something so lowly?” Zhuangzi replied, “It is in the weeds of the fields.” Dongguozi asked, “How can it be in something even lower?” Zhuangzi replied, “It is in tiles and bricks.” Dongguozi asked, “How can it be in something more base still?” Finally, Zhuangzi said, “It is in excrement and urine.” Dongguozi had no reply. Zhuangzi said, “The way you are asking has failed to reach the true nature of things.” This passage means that although the Dao is profound and subtle, it is present in all things, regardless of their rank or worth. Each thing follows its own nature, and so nothing ought to be discarded.

The Extended Meaning also says that the Huainanzi records an episode involving Gongsun Long in the state of Zhao.

The commentary says this passage comes from the “Way’s Responses” chapter of the Huainanzi. Its meaning has already been explained in detail, so it will not be repeated here. In brief, the story illustrates the principle that “the sage is skilled at helping people, and so no one is cast aside.”

Thus, the good person is a teacher to the person who is not good; the person who is not good, in turn, serves as a lesson and a source of support for the good person.

The Extended Meaning says: In former times, Zifa, a general of Chu, liked to seek out people with particular skills.

The commentary says this passage also comes from the “Way’s Responses” chapter of the Huainanzi. The story of the Chu general Zifa, who gladly sought out people with abilities, illustrates the idea that “the person who is not good serves as a lesson and a source of support for the good person.” The relevant material has already been discussed earlier, so it is not reproduced here.

To fail to respect one’s teacher or value those from whom one can learn, while imagining oneself wise, is a grave error. This is the essential and subtle principle at work.

The Extended Meaning says: To investigate the most fundamental principles of things is to trace them back to their nature. This is called “independent transformation”: all things arise and change naturally, each according to its own nature.

The Zhuangzi discusses how a body and its shadow depend on one another. Guo Xiang’s commentary on “Discussion on Making All Things Equal” says: If one can rely on things such as a snake’s scales or a cicada’s wings, one can understand that they have no independent integrity, and they are not difficult to know. What makes them difficult for people to understand now is precisely that they do not rely on such things, but change on their own. The Reclusive Worthy of Mysterious Unity—a hermit who has merged with the Dao and stands aloof from the world—cites this passage as evidence to show that each thing changes according to its own nature. How, then, could that nature be changed by cherishing or esteeming it?

Bole, the skilled judge of horses, could not train a nag into a fine steed.

Bole, surnamed Sun and named Yang, was a man of the time of Duke Mu of Qin, famed for his skill in judging horses. “Nag” refers to a poor, sluggish horse; “fine steed” refers to a superb horse. In other words, however skilled Bole was at judging horses, he could not turn a poor horse into a fine one.

Even a master carpenter could not cut down a chu tree or an oak—trees whose wood is unsuitable for structural beams—and use them as timber for the main beams.

“Chu” is a kind of worthless tree. In the Zhuangzi’s “Wandering Beyond,” Huizi (Hui Shi, Zhuangzi’s friend, though some accounts call him Zhuangzi’s student) says to Zhuangzi: “I have a large tree that people call a chu. Its trunk is knotted and twisted, so it does not fit a carpenter’s ink line. Its branches bend and coil, so they do not meet the standards of the compass and the square. It grows beside the road, but carpenters do not even look at it. Now your words are just as grand and useless, and everyone refuses to pay them any attention.”

Zhuangzi replies: “Have you never seen a wildcat, or a small beast like one? It crouches low, waiting for an arrogant field mouse, darting this way and that without regard for high or low, until it falls into a hunter’s trap and dies in a net. This is like those who cling to the deeds of the sages: they feign feelings and disguise their behavior, seeking only immediate gain. They take no care to avoid danger, and in the end they are bound to bring calamity upon themselves. Now, that yak…”