《道德真经衍义手抄(王守正)》Vol. 2

It was as vast as a cloud hanging at the edge of the sky. Though enormous, it could not be used to catch mice. Now you have a great tree and worry that it is useless. Why not plant it in an empty place, in a boundless wilderness? Wander at ease beside it and rest peacefully beneath its branches. No axe will fell it, and nothing will harm it. Since it has no use to offer, what trouble could it bring?

Here the story of the oak tree is cited again. The Zhuangzi, in “Among Humans,” says that the carpenter Shi was on his way to the state of Qi. When he reached a place called Quyuan, he saw an oak tree. Its shade was broad enough to shelter cattle, and its trunk measured a hundred spans around. Its top rose above the mountain, and it had many branches, more than a dozen of which could have been used to make boats. Crowds came to see the tree, as if gathered at a market, but Carpenter Shi did not even glance at it and walked straight on.

His apprentice watched it for a long time, then caught up with Carpenter Shi and asked, “Since I began working with you, carrying an axe, I have never seen such fine timber. Yet you did not even look at it and kept walking. Why?”

Carpenter Shi replied, “Enough—there’s no need to talk about it. It is useless wood, unsuitable for making things. A boat made from it would sink; a coffin and its outer case would soon rot; doors and windows would seep with sticky sap; and a pillar made from it would be eaten by insects. It is a tree of no use, and that is why it has lived so long.”

This story is used to explain the principle of teaching passed from master to disciple: when someone has the right natural aptitude, they can be taught and made into a person of use. Without such aptitude, even teaching may not bring them to fruition. Just as Bole, the skilled judge of horses, cannot turn a poor horse into a thoroughbred, a master carpenter cannot cut an unsuitable tree, such as a chinquapin oak, into timber fit for beams.

The Yanyi says: Liezi took Lao Shang as his teacher and befriended Boyaozi. Through his cultivation of the Dao, he attained the Way of the Immortals and advanced further both inwardly and outwardly.

A passage in the Liezi: The Yellow Emperor says that Liezi took Lao Shang as his teacher and befriended Bo Gaozi. After learning the arts of the Dao from them, he rode the wind home. Yin Sheng heard of this and went to live with Liezi. For several months, Liezi did not summon him even once. Yin Sheng seized an opportunity to ask Liezi to teach him the art of riding the wind. He asked ten times in all, but Liezi never told him. Resentful, Yin Sheng announced that he was leaving, and Liezi did not try to stop him. Several months after he left, Yin Sheng still could not let go of the matter, so he returned to follow Liezi.

Liezi asked, “Why do you keep coming and going?” Yin Sheng replied, “Before, I asked you several times to teach me, but you refused, so I held on to my resentment. Now I have let it go, and that is why I have returned.”

Liezi said, “I once thought you understood how things work. Now I see how shallow your understanding is. I will tell you what I learned from my teacher.

“When I served my teacher and spent time with my friend, three years passed before I no longer dared to judge right and wrong in my thoughts or speak of gain and loss. Only then did my teacher look at me once. After five years, I began again to think about right and wrong and speak of gain and loss. Only then did my teacher smile for the first time. After seven years, I no longer distinguished right from wrong or calculated gain and loss in either thought or speech. Only then did my teacher invite me to sit beside him. After nine years, whatever I thought or said, I no longer judged myself or others in terms of right and wrong or gain and loss. I no longer clung to the idea that my teacher was my teacher or my friend was my friend. The distinction between my inner self and the things around me had dissolved.

“After that, my eyes, ears, nose, and mouth seemed to communicate with one another, with no divisions between them. My spirit settled, and my body seemed to fall apart; my bones and flesh melted away. I no longer felt what supported my body or what my feet stood upon. I drifted east and west with the wind, like a withered leaf or a husk, until I could no longer tell whether the wind was carrying me or I was riding the wind.

“You have been under your teacher’s guidance for less than a season, yet you have repeatedly resented and calculated. Part of your body seems unable to bear even the Qi; part of it seems unable to bear even the earth. How could someone like that tread on empty air and ride the wind?”

Yin Sheng was deeply ashamed. He held his breath and remained silent for a long time, not daring to speak again.

Liezi and Lao Shang can be said to have reached a state in which teacher and student forgot their roles and were separated by no barriers. This story is cited here to explain the meaning of “not esteeming one’s teacher and not cherishing one’s credentials”: one does not cling to the status of honoring a teacher or to the distinctions of rank within the teacher-student relationship.

The Yanyi says: After Confucius met Taigong Ren, he took leave of his friends and left his disciples.

The Zhuangzi, in the “Mountain Tree” chapter, records that Confucius was trapped between the states of Chen and Cai and went seven days without food. Taigong Ren came to console him and asked, “Are you about to die?” Confucius replied, “Yes.” “Do you hate death?” “Yes.”

Taigong Ren said, “You once spoke of a way to avoid death. In the Eastern Sea there is a bird called Yidai. It flies slowly and seems to have little ability, yet it knows how to ride the wind and settle where the current carries it. It does not strive to be first when moving forward or lag behind when moving back. It does not rush to taste the food, taking only what remains. So it is never rejected by the flock and can always live among other birds. Those outside cannot harm it, and it can thus evade trouble.

“Straight trees are the first to be cut down; sweet wells are the first to be drained. You have probably stirred the foolish by displaying your intelligence and exposed other people’s filth by deliberately cultivating yourself. You shine so brightly, as if walking with the sun and moon in your hands, and so you cannot escape disaster.

“I once heard a deeply cultivated person say: Those who boast have no merit; after an achievement is complete, it may be ruined; great renown may bring loss. Who can set aside merit and fame and return to an ordinary life? The Dao moves through all things without displaying itself; De is embodied in action without being claimed as one’s own. Plain and unadorned, it may even look like madness. One erases one’s traces, gives up power, and does not pursue reputation. So one does not blame others, and others do not blame one. Those who have attained the highest Dao do not seek fame. Why, then, do you take pleasure in making yourself known?”

Confucius said, “Well said.” He then took leave of his friends, left his disciples, and withdrew to the vast wilderness. He wore coarse clothes and ate acorns. He entered among the beasts without disturbing their gatherings, and among the birds without disrupting their flocks. If birds and beasts did not dislike him, how much less would people?

The Zhuangzi records that the Yellow Emperor went to Mount Juci to visit Da Kui, a legendary master who had attained the Dao. Fang Ming drove the carriage, Chang Yu rode beside him, Zhang Ruo and Xi Peng led the way, and Kun Hun and Hua Ji followed behind. When the procession reached the countryside around Xiangcheng, the seven sages lost their way and could find no one to ask for directions. According to this account, the seven were the Yellow Emperor and the six others through Hua Ji. Xiangcheng is identified with the area around present-day Ruzhou, south of Mount Taiwei, and tradition says this was where the Yellow Emperor sought the Dao.

They came upon a boy tending horses and asked whether he knew where Mount Juci and Da Kui were. The boy said that he did. The Yellow Emperor was surprised and asked how he would govern the realm. The boy replied that governing the realm was no different from tending horses—why do anything more?

Chapter Twenty-Eight: Knowing the Male

Know the prominent side, yet remain content with the humble side, and you can become the valley to which all under Heaven flows. As the valley of all under Heaven, your constant De will be abundant, and in the end you will return to uncarved simplicity.

“Flourishing” refers to plants and trees growing luxuriantly. The scripture quotes the “Commentary on the Words of the Text” for the Kun Hexagram in the Book of Changes: when Heaven and Earth move and transform, plants and trees flourish; when Heaven and Earth are blocked and no longer communicate, worthy people withdraw. Kong Yingda explains that the Qi of Heaven and Earth mingle and nourish the myriad things, causing plants and trees to flourish.

When uncarved simplicity is divided, it gives rise to all kinds of implements. When the sage makes use of these implements, the sage becomes the leader of the people. Thus, truly great governance does not cut things apart or force them into divisions.

The scripture quotes Zigong asking Confucius, “What kind of person am I?” Confucius replied, “You are an implement.”

The Analects, “Gongye Chang,” records that Zigong asked Confucius, “What sort of person am I?” Confucius replied, “You are like a vessel.” Zigong asked, “What kind of vessel?” Confucius answered, “A húlián.” The hú and lián were ritual vessels from the Xia and Shang periods; the corresponding vessels of the Zhou dynasty were called fǔ and guǐ. They were used in ancestral temples to hold grains such as millet and broomcorn millet, and were decorated with jade, making them both precious and beautiful. Here, vessels serve as a metaphor: a person of ability is useful in their own way, and each has their particular strengths.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Whoever wants to take possession of the world and govern it according to their own will, I believe, will not succeed.

The Extended Explanation says: Shun withdrew from the son of Yao and lived south of the Southern River. When the feudal lords of the world came to pay their respects, bring legal cases, and praise virtue, they did not go to Yao’s son; they turned instead to Shun. This was not because Shun had seized the world by force.

The Mencius, “Wan Zhang I,” records that Shun assisted Yao for twenty-eight years. This was not something a person could accomplish by their own efforts; it was Heaven’s will. After Yao died and the three-year mourning period ended, Shun withdrew from Yao’s son and lived south of the Southern River. When the feudal lords of the world came to pay their respects, they went to Shun rather than Yao’s son. Those with legal cases also went to Shun, not Yao’s son. And the people praised Shun’s virtue, not Yao’s son’s. Thus, it is said that this was Heaven’s will. Only later did Shun come to the Central Plains and ascend to the position of Son of Heaven. Shun’s story is cited here to show that he became ruler because the Mandate of Heaven was bestowed upon him and the people turned to him—not because he forcibly seized power.

The world is a sacred vessel, and one must not act upon it at will. Those who force their efforts upon it will fail; those who insist on holding it will lose it.

The Extended Explanation says that “sacred vessel” refers to the supreme position of rulership over the world, a vessel entrusted by the spirits of Heaven and Earth.

The Appended Remarks to the Classic of Changes say, “Heaven and Earth’s greatest virtue is to bring forth and transform the myriad things; a sage’s most precious possession is the ruler’s position. How can that position be kept? Through benevolence and virtue.” This means that the greatest affairs under Heaven are directed by the divine. How could the ruler’s position be seized by force? Even if it were taken, it would surely be lost. How, then, could one fail to exercise caution?

The Zhuangzi records that Root of Heaven was traveling on Mount Yin Tang. When he reached the Liao River, he happened to meet a man named Nameless and asked him how to govern the world. Nameless said, “Go away, you shallow person! Why ask such an unpleasant question?”

The commentary explains that this is a parable in the Zhuangzi, “The Great and Venerable Teacher.” Root of Heaven and Nameless are both names of characters in the parable. Yin Tang refers to the southern side of Mount Yin, and the Meng River lies within the borders of the state of Zhao. Root of Heaven was traveling among the mountains and waters when he met Nameless and asked him how to govern the world. Nameless added, “You should settle in a state of calm simplicity, bring your breath into harmony with the void, follow the natural course of the myriad things, and harbor no private intentions. Then the world will govern itself.”

The Zhuangzi, “The Great and Venerable Teacher,” also says, “They drilled seven orifices into Hundun, and Hundun died.” The commentary says this passage has already been cited earlier and will not be repeated.

“Driving horses with whips and reins exhausts their strength.” These words come from the Zhuangzi, “Horses’ Hooves.” The commentary says this has already been discussed in the chapter “When the Great Dao Is Abandoned,” so it will not be repeated.

Thus, the sage rejects excess, extravagance, and extremes.

The Mencius, “Li Lou II,” says, “Confucius did not go too far.” The commentary cites Yang’s explanation: the sage acts only within the proper bounds and does not add even a little more. This shows that Mencius understood Confucius well.

The Analects says, “In the practice of ritual, it is better to be frugal than extravagant.”

The Analects, “Bayi,” Book 3, records Confucius as saying: “That is a very broad question. In matters of ritual, simplicity and frugality are better than lavish display; in funeral rites, heartfelt grief is better than carrying out every ceremonial detail.” Confucius said this in reply to Lin Fang, a man of Lu.

The Extended Meaning says that Shun did not consider it excessive to accept the realm ceded to him by Yao.

The Mencius, “Teng Wen Gong,” Part 2, records that Peng Geng was a disciple of Mencius. He asked Mencius: “When you travel, dozens of carts accompany you and hundreds of people follow you, and you accept lodging and meals provided by the feudal lords. Isn’t that extravagant?” Mencius replied: “If it is not in accord with the right way, then even a small basket of food must not be accepted from another. If it is in accord with the right way, then Shun did not consider it excessive to accept the realm ceded to him by Yao. Do you think that counts as extravagance?”

This passage says that when sages act, excess in certain respects can bring the danger of ruin. They should therefore rid themselves of such faults, remain humble and self-restrained, and approach the world with an open mind. In this way they can accord with the Dao and avoid being burdened by excessive desire.

This concludes Scroll Seven of the Handwritten Commentary on the Extended Meaning of the True Scripture of the Way and Its Virtue.

A passage may be missing before “knowing what is glorious.”

Handwritten Commentary on the Extended Meaning of the True Scripture of the Way and Its Virtue, Scroll Eight

Compiled by Wang Shouzheng, a reclusive scholar of Qing’an on Five Peaks.

Chapter Thirty: “Using the Dao to Assist the Ruler”

Those who use the Dao to assist a ruler do not rely on military force to dominate the world. Those who act through force often invite retaliation.

The Extended Meaning says: “If you kill another’s father, another will kill your father; if you kill another’s elder brother, another will kill your elder brother.”

This passage is quoted from “Jinxin, Part Two,” in the Mencius. Mencius said, “Only now do I understand how grave the consequences are when someone kills another person’s family member. If you kill someone else’s father, that person will kill your father; if you kill someone else’s elder brother, that person will kill your elder brother. You have not killed your own family member with your own hands; there is only one person between you.” The commentary explains that “one person between” means that I act first and the other person acts in return, with only one person separating us. In reality, this is no different from killing one’s own family member with one’s own hands.

The extended commentary says, “What you do to others will, in the end, return to you.”

This passage is quoted from “Liang Hui, Part Two,” in the Mencius. Zou and Lu were at war, and Duke Mu of Zou asked Mencius what he should do. “Clamor” refers to the noise of fighting. Mencius replied, “During the famine, the elderly and weak among your people were left dead in the ditches, while the young and strong left their homes and scattered across the land. There were several thousand of them. Yet your granaries were full and your storehouses well stocked, and not one official responsible for your administration reported the people’s suffering to you. Those in high positions have neglected their duties and harmed the people. Zengzi said, ‘Be on your guard, be on your guard! What you do to others will, in the end, return to you.’ Now the people have merely had the chance to repay you for how they were treated before. You need not blame them.”

The extended commentary says that King Ling of Chu, King Min of Qi, Qin Shi Huang, and Emperor Wu of Han each suffered such consequences: some lost their lives, while others brought disaster upon their descendants.

According to the copied account, in the thirteenth year of Duke Zhao of Lu, King Ling of Chu’s son, Prince Bi, Prince Zigan, Prince Heigong, Prince Zhe, as well as Qiji, Man Chengran, Cai Chao, the Wu grandee, and others led troops from Chen, Cai, Bu Geng, Xu, and Ye against Chu. They also joined forces with the followers of four clans—Wei, Xu Wei, Cai Wei, and Man Chengran. They killed Crown Prince Lu and Prince Badi, then sent Guan Cong to accompany the army to Qianxi and tell the soldiers to rise in rebellion against Chu. The army broke apart when it reached Ziliang.

When King Ling heard that several princes had been killed, he fell from his carriage and said, “Do others love their sons as much as I love mine?” He then said, “I have killed so many other men’s sons. Could disaster really not come upon me in turn? Is this not Heaven’s retribution against me?”

The Right Minister Zige urged him to go first to the outskirts and wait there to hear what the people thought. King Ling replied, “The people’s anger cannot be challenged.” Zige then urged him to go to a large city and seek help from the feudal lords. The king said, “They have all turned against me already.” Zige next advised him to take refuge for a time among the feudal lords and leave himself to the judgment of a great state. King Ling replied, “Great fortune does not come twice; I would only bring disgrace upon myself.” Randan then returned to Chu. Zige… King Ling eventually hanged himself at the home of Shen Hai, the official of Yu. After reaching the Gong family’s home, the king took his own life by hanging. Was this not bringing calamity upon himself and passing disaster on to his descendants?

The Comprehensive Mirror for Aid in Government records that in the thirty-first year of King Min of Qi, Yue Yi, the senior general of Yan, led troops from Qin, Wei, Han, and Zhao in an attack on Qi. Yue Yi believed that the king of Qi boasted of his achievements and relied on his own abilities, ignored his ministers’ advice, dismissed the worthy and trusted flatterers, and governed with cruelty. The people therefore resented him and would surely turn against Qi, making the state ripe for conquest. King Min fled to Ju. Chu sent Nao Chi with troops to aid Qi and appointed him its chancellor. Nao Chi wanted to divide Qi’s territory with Yan, so he seized King Min and killed him.

Xunzi said, “A state is the most powerful position in the world. Govern it by following the right way, and it will be secure and prominent, becoming a source from which good things accumulate. Govern it without following the right way, and it will be in extreme danger and become a heavy burden; possessing it is worse than not having it. At the limit, even if one wishes to retreat and become an ordinary person, one cannot.” King Min of Qi and Duke Xian of Song were examples of this. Were these rulers not killed because they lacked the Way?

From the first year of Zhengli, the Yimao year, through the twenty-sixth year, the Gengchen year, Qin Shi Huang subdued the feudal lords and destroyed the Six States, then proclaimed himself the First Emperor. In the autumn of the thirty-seventh year, in the seventh month, he died at the Shaqiu Terrace. Hu Hai succeeded him as Qin Er Shi, the Second Emperor of Qin. In the third year of his reign, Chancellor Zhao Gao feared that he himself would be killed. He secretly ordered Yan Le, the magistrate of Xianyang, to lead more than a thousand officials and soldiers to Wangyi Palace. Yan Le stepped forward and rebuked the Second Emperor: “You have been arrogant and unrestrained, killing people at will. Everyone in the realm has turned against you. You should consider your own course.” Yan Le signaled his soldiers to advance, and the Second Emperor took his own life. Zhao Gao then installed Ziying as king of Qin.

In the winter of the first year of Gaozu, in the tenth month, the Duke of Pei arrived at Bashang. King Ziying of Qin rode in a white carriage drawn by a white horse, with a silk cord around his neck, and surrendered with the imperial seal and tally. Xiang Yu led his troops west into Xianyang, killed the surrendered King Ziying, and burned the palaces of Qin. Ziying had been king of Qin for only forty-six days when the state fell, and he too lost his life. Was this not inviting calamity upon his descendants?

In the fourth month of the second year of the Zhenghe era under Emperor Wu of Han, the emperor went to Ganquan. In the autumn, in the seventh month, Crown Prince Liu Ju killed the envoy Jiang Chong, informed the empress, and then raised troops in resistance. The emperor ordered Chancellor Qu Mao to put down the revolt. Liu Ju was defeated and fled to Hu County; the empress, Lady Wei, and Liu Ju both took their own lives. Hu’s commentary says: Emperor Wu of Han had boundless desires and sought too much. He waged wars without restraint, undertook vast construction projects, and traveled constantly, exhausting the strength of the people. This led to bandits rising everywhere, and later great calamities fell upon his descendants. Was this not only to be expected?

Wherever an army has been stationed, thorns will later grow in abundance; after a great war, years of famine are sure to follow.

The Extended Meaning says: When fields lie abandoned and rocks are left bare, thorns begin to grow.

The Collected Explanations quotes the “Fisherman” chapter of the Zhuangzi: Officials each attend to the duties of their offices, and people each concern themselves with their own affairs; in this way, no one oppresses another. Thus abandoned fields and bare rocks, shortages of food and clothing, unpaid taxes, discord between husband and wife, and disorder between young and old are all sources of hardship for the people. This shows that after a great war, farmers lose their livelihoods, fields are abandoned, and thorns grow in tangled profusion, foretelling years of famine.

Therefore, one skilled in using the army does only what is necessary to achieve the goal and does not dare to flaunt force. After victory, one does not boast, show off, or grow arrogant. The army is used only when there is no other choice; so even in victory, one does not press one’s advantage.

The Extended Meaning says: Since the sages devised the Eight Trigrams, people have bent wood to make bows and sharpened wood to make arrows. The power of bow and arrow can be used to awe the world.

The Collected Explanations quotes these words from the Appended Statements, Part Two of the Classic of Changes: “They bent wood to make bows and sharpened wood to make arrows; the power of bow and arrow could be used to awe the world.” This took its model from the principle of the Hexagram Kui, “Opposition.” “Opposition” means estrangement and turning against one another. When things become estranged, conflict arises; bows and arrows are used to deter strife. The sages resorted to force only when there was no other choice, to display their might—not because they delighted in killing.

The Yanyi quotes Gengsangzi: “If we trace the origins of war, we find that it has existed since human beings first appeared.” It also says: “If someone dies after taking medicine, it is wrong to try to ban all physicians throughout the world.” In the same way, punitive wars cannot be entirely eliminated from the world. Those skilled in assisting a ruler through the Dao should maintain an attitude of gentleness, stillness, and restraint. They must not use force to impose their will on the world. If an enemy attacks, and there is no choice but to send out troops in response, only then can one be called skilled in the use of arms.

The commentator says that these words all come from the chapter “The Way of War” in the Kangcangzi. They are cited here as supporting evidence to show that although war cannot be abolished, one must not rely on force. This is a warning against using military power to dominate the world.

The Yanyi also quotes the Spring and Autumn Annals: “Only those who kill the enemy can be called resolute.”

The Chunqiu records that in the spring of the second year of Duke Xuan of Lu, Gongsun Guisheng of Zheng attacked Song on the orders of Chu. Hua Yuan of Song led Le Ju, the minister of justice, and others in resisting him. On the day renzi in the second month, the two armies fought at Daji. The Song army suffered a crushing defeat; Hua Yuan was captured, as was Le Ju. The Zheng army also seized 460 chariots, took 250 prisoners, and cut off the left ears of 100 enemy soldiers as proof of their victory.

When the Song grandee Kuang Jiao fought the Zheng army, a Zheng soldier hid in a well. Kuang Jiao lowered his halberd and pulled the man out, only to be captured by the Zheng army in turn. A gentleman commented: “He failed to observe ritual and disobeyed military orders, so it was only right that he was captured.” On the battlefield, ritual means fighting the enemy with clear resolve and obeying military orders. To “heed orders” means to keep them constantly in mind and be ready to carry them out at any moment. Killing the enemy is called resolve; carrying it through is called steadfastness. Anyone who carelessly treats military orders as a game and then disobeys them will surely be punished.

Before the battle, Hua Yuan slaughtered sheep to reward the soldiers but gave no share to Yang Zhan, the charioteer. During the fighting, Yang Zhan said, “Yesterday, you decided how the sheep’s meat was divided. Today, I decide how the battle is fought.” He then drove his chariot toward the Zheng army, causing the Song defeat. A gentleman judged that Yang Zhan was unworthy of being called a human being: out of personal resentment, he brought great loss upon his state. What graver crime could there be against the people? The “man of bad character” mentioned in the Lesser Odes of the Book of Odes refers precisely to one who, out of resentment, brings about the ruin of his state. This was probably speaking of Yang Zhan.

From this we can understand that “killing the enemy with resolve” means stopping the enemy from continuing to make incursions. One should take up arms only when there is no other choice, and do so to end warfare, so that the enemy will no longer prey upon others. That is why it is said that one must not flaunt one’s strength through force.

The Yanyi says that after Tang of Shang defeated Jie of Xia, he spoke of “temporary De”—Virtue exercised for a time.

The “Proclamation of Zhong Hui” in the “Books of Shang” section of the Book of Documents records that Cheng Tang, the founding ruler of the Shang dynasty, exiled Xia Jie to Nanchao. Tang said, “I fear that later generations will use this as an excuse.” This means that although Tang acted in accordance with Heaven’s will and the people’s wishes, he still felt uneasy when he thought of the ancient tradition in which Yao, Shun, and Yu passed the throne to one another. He felt that his virtue fell short of that of the ancients, and worried that later generations throughout the realm would use the event as grounds for criticism.

The commentary says that after Cheng Tang returned to Bo, the Shang capital, he remained as anxious as if he were standing at the edge of an abyss.

The Tang yu records that after Tang defeated the Xia and returned to Bo, he issued a proclamation to the various regions: “I hope to bring peace and harmony to your states. But I do not know whether I have offended Heaven and Earth. My heart trembles with fear, as though I were about to fall into an abyss.” Tang believed that Heaven’s mandate had charged him with bringing peace to the states, a grave responsibility. He feared he might not be capable of bearing it and worried that he might already have failed Heaven and Earth; thus, he was apprehensive and uneasy.

The commentary further says that during the Spring and Autumn period, after the state of Wu defeated Yue, it began to look down on Chu.

The relevant principles from the Spring and Autumn Annals have already been discussed in detail; they will not be copied out again here.

When things reach the height of strength and prosperity, they begin to decline. This is called being contrary to the Dao; what is contrary to the Dao soon perishes.

The commentary says that although the Dao predates high antiquity, it does not place itself first. Here it cites the “Great Ancestral Teacher” chapter of the Zhuangzi: the Dao is before the Supreme Ultimate, yet is not thereby high; it lies beneath the four quarters of Heaven and Earth, yet is not thereby deep; it was born before Heaven and Earth, yet is not thereby old; it outlasts high antiquity, yet is not thereby aged. This means that the Dao is everywhere, yet is confined to no particular place. The chapter “Something Formed in Confusion” in the Daodejing explains this in detail.

Chapter Thirty-One: On the Art of War

In ordinary life, a gentleman honors the left; in war, he honors the right. Weapons are instruments of ill omen, not tools a gentleman delights in using. He uses them only when there is no alternative, and the best approach is to regard war with calm detachment.

The commentary says: As for cases such as barbarians invading the Central States and bandits causing disorder and committing evil…

This passage quotes the Shundian. Emperor Shun admonished Gao Yao: “Armed force is a measure to be used only when there is no other choice. Weapons are ill-omened tools, not things a gentleman uses in ordinary circumstances. Even when they must be used, calm restraint and detachment should be the guiding principles.”

Those called “barbarians” who disrupt the Central States, and robbers who commit crimes, are distinguished as follows: people who seize property are called kou (“robbers”); those who kill are called zei (“murderers”). Evil committed outside the state is called jian (“treachery”), while evil committed within it is called gui (“subversion”). Shun appointed Gao Yao to oversee criminal justice and adjudicate cases. Each of the five punishments had its corresponding offenses and penalties, and each of the five degrees of banishment had its designated place of resettlement. Only through careful investigation could punishment be made to fit the crime and earn people’s trust.

The “five punishments” refers to penalties imposed according to the severity of an offense. According to Kong Anguo’s interpretation, the “three places of execution” (san jiu) were the countryside for major criminals, the court for high officials, and the marketplace for lower-ranking officers. The “five banishments” refers to five degrees of exile, used to deal with offenders whose crimes could be met with leniency. Although banishment had five degrees, the places of resettlement fell into three categories, just as there were five ranks of nobility but three grades of fief.

When conflict cannot be avoided, force is the only means of resisting the enemy and carrying out punitive campaigns. Thus, a Dao-aligned gentleman uses force only when there is no other choice.

“To bring disorder to an end and meet the enemy when necessary” means that troops are deployed only to quell upheaval and confront an enemy. “Conquer” means to defeat and win. “Disaster” refers to violent acts that bring harm to others; “disorder” means abandoning virtue and acting recklessly.

“Pacifying disorder” refers to the story of Jiang Ziya, the Grand Duke of Qi, fishing at Pan Creek. He split open a fish’s belly and found a jade huang pendant containing a book called the Six Secret Teachings. The book has six sections. The first, “Civil Strategy,” explains that governing a state and establishing a realm must follow the natural principles of the Dao. The second, “Military Strategy,” discusses how to pacify disorder and awe the four quarters. The third, “Dragon Strategy,” concerns harmonizing Yin-Yang and following the seasons. The fourth, “Tiger Strategy,” explains how to make good use of subordinates so that violent people bring about their own defeat. The fifth, “Leopard Strategy,” addresses how to quell crises at the opportune moment, chiefly through strategy and adaptability. The sixth, “Dog Strategy,” concerns observing subtle circumstances, which can sometimes make it possible to win by an unexpected move. “Tao” means concealment. The stratagems and adaptations of warfare should not be readily disclosed, so the word conveys the sense of keeping them hidden and obscure.

The Commentary on the Extended Meaning says: This is not done out of greed for land, profit, or treasure.

During the reign of Emperor Xuan of Han, Wei Xian served as chancellor. In the Yuankang era, the Xiongnu sent troops to attack Han, and the forces and commanders stationed on the frontier could not drive them back. Emperor Xuan consulted with Zhao Chongguo, the General of the Rear, and others. They planned to attack the Xiongnu’s western territory while the Xiongnu were weakened, so that they would no longer dare to raid the Western Regions. Chancellor Wei Xian submitted a memorial urging the emperor to reconsider: “I have heard that rescuing the realm from disorder and punishing the violent is called a righteous campaign; only when a campaign accords with righteousness can it establish royal authority. When an enemy invades and one takes up arms out of necessity, this is called a responsive campaign; fighting in response to the enemy brings victory. Fighting over a trivial matter because one cannot contain one’s anger is called a wrathful campaign; an army raised in anger will be defeated. Coveting another’s land, wealth, and treasures is called a greedy campaign; an army raised for profit will meet with destruction. Relying on the strength of the state and the size of its population to flaunt one’s might before the enemy is called an arrogant campaign; an army raised in arrogance and self-importance will ultimately perish.”

These five situations express not only principles of human affairs; they can also be understood through “mysterious sameness,” the state of accord with the Dao in which distinctions fall away. They are cited here as evidence to show how actions lead to their consequences. Even when a campaign is truly unavoidable, one should act in accordance with circumstances and not force matters through sheer strength. The passage above says the same as the “Way of Warfare” chapter of the Wenzi.

Wang Shouzheng’s Yanyi says: When Bai Gong Sheng rebelled in the state of Chu, he sent someone to summon Qu Yijiu. Shinan Yiliao played with pellets between the two sides, and their troubles were thus resolved. Sun Shuao lay at ease, holding a feather fan, and the people of Ying laid down their weapons.

This passage quotes the Zhuangzi, “Xu Wugui” chapter, which has already been explained in detail above and will not be copied out again here. The idea of “mysterious sameness”—a state of concealing one’s edge and aligning with the Dao—helps explain that Shinan Yiliao and Sun Shuao resolved the troubles between the two sides by following nature rather than relying on force, and by using wisdom that did not engage in verbal dispute. They may be said to have excelled at winning without fighting, taking calmness and Wuwei (non-action) as the highest way.

Yet if, after winning, one does not regard victory as worthy of praise but instead takes pride in killing, this is to delight in killing. Those who delight in killing cannot fulfill their aims in the world.

The Yanyi says: This is precisely what Mencius meant when he said, “Among those who govern the world today…”

Yet if, after winning, one does not regard victory as worthy of praise but instead takes pride in killing, this is to delight in killing. Those who delight in killing cannot fulfill their aims in the world.

The Yanyi says: Mencius once said, “Among those who govern the world today, there is none who does not delight in killing.”

This passage quotes the Mencius, “Liang Hui Wang I.” Mencius visited King Xiang of Liang, the son of King Hui of Liang, whose personal name was He. After leaving, Mencius told someone, “From a distance, he did not look like a ruler; up close, he inspired no sense of awe.”

King Xiang of Liang suddenly asked, “How can the world be brought to order?” Mencius replied, “The world will be at peace when it is unified.” The king then asked, “Who can unify it?” Mencius replied, “Someone who does not delight in killing can unify it.”

“Delight” means to like something or willingly engage in it. Among those who govern the world today, there is none who does not delight in killing. If there were a ruler who did not delight in killing, the people of the world would all crane their necks in longing for him. If this is so, then Mencius’s words, “Someone who does not delight in killing can unify the world,” become clear: the people would rally to him like water flowing downhill, with a force no one could stop.

The Yanyi says: The Liezi records that Zhao Xiangzi sent Xinzhimuzi to attack the state of Di and win a victory.

This passage quotes the Zhuangzi, “Shuo Fu” chapter, which has already been explained in detail above and will not be copied out again here.

When an occasion is joyful, ritual gives precedence to the left; at a funeral, it gives precedence to the right. The assistant general stands on the left, while the supreme general stands on the right. This means they are arranged according to the rules of funeral rites.

The distinction between “giving precedence to the left” and “giving precedence to the right” appears in the “Tan Gong” chapter of the Book of Rites, as explained earlier; there is no need to repeat that discussion here. The saying is used here to explain that a warrior who wins in battle and earns merit is promoted to supreme general and stands on the right to oversee the killing. Thus, when the Jing says that victory in battle should be treated like a funeral, it means that victory should not be celebrated as an honor worthy of esteem.

Chapter 32: The Dao Is Ever Nameless

The Dao is ever nameless. Though the Uncarved Block—unshaped and in its natural state—is small, no one under Heaven dares treat it as a subordinate. If the lords and kings can hold fast to the Dao, the myriad things will naturally submit to them.

The Extended Meaning says: The many abilities and implements in the world each have their own names. Insight governs sight, acuity governs hearing, courage governs physical strength, and eloquence governs speech. These named and tangible abilities are all made to serve the Dao of Wuwei (non-action). Only the Dao remains simple and nameless.

The Zhongni chapter of the Liezi records that many worthy people lived in the Puzhe area of Zheng, and many talented people in the Dongli area as well. A man named Bofengzi lived in Puzhe. When his disciples passed through Dongli, they encountered Deng Xi. Deng Xi turned to his own disciples with a smile and said, “Let me put on a little performance for you and see whether I can make a fool of that Bofengzi. What do you think?” His disciples replied, “We would very much like to see it.”

Deng Xi was a clever and quick-witted man of Zheng, skilled in debate. He asked Bofengzi, “Do you understand how to provide for people? Someone who only accepts support from others but cannot support himself is like a dog or a pig. The true skill of a human being is to provide for all things and put them to use. The fact that your disciples have enough to eat and wear, and a place to live and rest, is the achievement of those who govern. How are you any different from livestock kept in a pen, gathered together to be slaughtered and cooked for others?”

Bofengzi did not reply. One of his disciples stepped forward out of turn and said, “My lord, have you never heard that Qi and Lu have many talented people? Some are skilled in building with earth and timber; some in smelting metal and making weapons; some in music; some in writing and calculation; and others in commanding troops or conducting ancestral temple sacrifices. All kinds of talent are represented. Yet none of these people is naturally entitled to command the others. Those in high office are not necessarily capable, and those who give orders are not necessarily competent. Those with real understanding and ability are instead made to serve them. Those who govern are merely people we put to work. What is there for you to boast about?”

Deng Xi had no answer. He glanced at his disciples and withdrew.

This story shows that people with understanding, talent, and ability may end up serving those who lack all three. What, then, is worthy of respect in such people? Those who embrace the Dao and preserve simplicity do not advertise their reputations or display their abilities. They live freely in quiet silence, beyond anyone’s power to command. When people encounter such a person, they need not hear what he says: simply seeing him lets them sense the presence of the Dao, and they naturally feel respect and are transformed by his influence.

Thus the Dao De Jing says: “The Dao is ever nameless. Though the uncarved simplicity seems small, none under Heaven dares make it a servant. If lords and kings can preserve it, all things will come of themselves as guests.” This means that the Dao is constant and nameless. The simple Dao may appear insignificant, yet all under Heaven dare not treat it as a subordinate. If lords and kings can hold fast to the Dao, all things will naturally come and submit.

The Commentary says: Without relying on military force to intimidate, or on material rewards to entice, all things under Heaven will submit of their own accord, though no one can explain why.

Mencius says: “The Dao is always nameless. Though the Uncarved Block is small, all under Heaven dare not make it their subject. If the lords and kings can hold fast to it, all things will come of their own accord as guests.” Here, “the Uncarved Block” refers to the Dao in its uncarved state. If the lords and kings can hold fast to the Great Dao, all things will naturally come and submit.

In “Teng Wengong, Part Two,” Mencius records his reply to Jing Chun: “He dwells in the broadest house under Heaven, stands in the most proper place under Heaven, and walks the brightest path under Heaven. When he achieves his purpose, he follows the right path together with the people; when he does not, he holds fast to his own Dao alone. Wealth and rank cannot confuse him, poverty and low status cannot change him, and force cannot make him bend. Such a person is called a great man.” The Commentary uses this to explain that if the lords and kings can hold fast to the Dao, all things will naturally submit. Why, then, resort to force?

The Commentary also says: Even dust, dirt, and chaff can bring forth figures like Yao and Shun. “Dust, dirt, and chaff” comes from the “Free and Easy Wandering” chapter of the Zhuangzi. The passage describes a state in which one would not be submerged even if floods covered the sky, nor feel hot even if a great drought melted metal and stone and scorched the hills. In such a state, even dust, dirt, and chaff can bring forth Yao and Shun—so who would take external things seriously?

“Yao and Shun” here are merely the worldly titles for sage kings. The “Yao and Shun” sought by those pursuing fame are only figures borrowing those names. The true Yao and Shun are not merely the historical rulers called Yao and Shun, but beings who have attained a wondrous state. The Yao and Shun of worldly understanding are simply a way of comparing that state to dust, dirt, and chaff.

Hand-copied Commentary on the Meaning of the True Scripture of the Dao and Its De, Volume Nine

Chapter Thirty-Three: “Knowing others is wisdom; knowing oneself is clarity.”

The Commentary says: This is like being able to distinguish black from white.

The “Tianyun” chapter of the Outer Chapters of the Zhuangzi says: “The swan does not bathe every day, yet its feathers are naturally white; the crow is not dyed every day, yet its feathers are naturally black.” Black and white are so by nature; bathing and dyeing do not bring them into being. This means that human nature, too, has its own natural expression.

An extended commentary says: “A wise person can discern whether people are upright or crooked.”

The Mencius says: “When observing a person, nothing is more reliable than looking at their eyes. The eyes cannot conceal the thoughts of an evil mind. When the heart is upright, the gaze is clear; when the heart is not upright, the gaze is dim. Listen to what they say, then look at their eyes—can they still hide themselves?” Here, “yu” means “to hide.” When people come into contact with things outside themselves, their spirit shows in their eyes. Thus, when the heart is upright, the expression is clear; when it is not, the spirit is scattered and the gaze grows dim. A person’s integrity, crookedness, goodness, or evil is therefore difficult to conceal. As the saying goes: “Knowing others is wisdom; knowing yourself is clarity.”

An extended commentary says: “This is like distinguishing beauty from ugliness.”

The fifth scroll of the Jiuyou Chan says: “Retribution and karmic conditions follow one another like a shadow following a body. They are like a clear mirror reflecting a person’s appearance, making beauty and ugliness plain of themselves. The same is true of the karma created by good and evil deeds.”

An extended commentary says: “Yet people often cannot see their own eyelashes.”

This cites a passage from the Gengsang Chu chapter of the Zhuangzi. Laozi said: “Once, I looked at you and could see even your eyebrows, eyelashes, and the hair around your eyes.” The saying uses things nearby and right before us as an analogy: people easily see others, yet find it hard to notice themselves.

An extended commentary says: “So one must also turn back and understand oneself.”

The Appended Remarks to the Zhouyi says: “Examine yourself again and again, and you will come to know yourself.” This means that by turning inward to seek the causes within oneself, one can understand one’s gains and losses.

“Overcoming others is strength; overcoming yourself is true power.”

An extended commentary says: “This is the way to prevail consistently.”

A passage from the “Yellow Emperor” chapter of the Liezi says: “There is a way that always prevails, and a way that does not always prevail. What prevails over the long term is softness; what may fail to prevail over the long term is strength. Both principles are easy to understand, yet people do not grasp them. Thus the ancients said: the strong begin by bullying those weaker than themselves, while the soft begin with themselves. Those who constantly bully the weaker are in danger as soon as they meet someone their equal.”

Yi, the legendary archer, was skilled with the bow; Ao, the legendary strongman, could push a boat across dry land. Both relied on strength to overcome others.

A passage from “Xian Wen” in the Analects says: “Nangong Shi, a disciple of Confucius also known as Nan Rong, asked Confucius: ‘Yi was skilled with the bow, and Ao could push a boat across dry land, yet neither met a good end.’ Yi was ruler of the Youqiong clan and an exceptionally skilled archer. He seized the throne of Taikang, the Xia ruler, and made himself king. Later, his minister Han Zhuo killed him and took his place. The Spring and Autumn Annals commentary says that Ao was the son of Jiao, a legendary figure, and Zhuo. He was strong enough to push a boat across dry land, but was later killed by Shaokang, the Xia ruler. Yi and Ao were both ancient men who relied on brute force and acted violently; neither met a good end. They relied on their strength but could neither overcome others nor restrain themselves. This is the principle Laozi urged people to heed.”

A passage from chapter ten of the Doctrine of the Mean says: “To use weapons and armor as a sleeping mat, and to face death without fear—that is the strength of the northerners.” Here, ren means a mat for lying on or bedding; jin refers to weapons such as spears, and ge to armor. The northern character is vigorous, so courage and strength used to prevail over others are regarded as boldness. This is the kind of strength shown by the strong.

What Confucius called strength, however, was this: “To be harmonious without drifting with the current, and to stand upright and centered without leaning to either side—this is true strength.”

Chapter Ten of the Doctrine of the Mean says, “The exemplary person is harmonious and accommodating without simply going along with the crowd. This is true strength.” Here, “strength” means upright resolve. The Book of Songs uses the phrase “sturdy and valiant warrior” in the same sense. “Leaning” means favoring one side. If one cannot restrain selfish desires, one cannot choose and hold to the central, upright Way. This is precisely what makes the Way of the Mean difficult to practice. What kind of strength is most noble? Confucius therefore advised Zilu to rein in the force of his physical vigor and instead cultivate courage grounded in Virtue and righteousness.

Those who know contentment are inwardly rich; those who strive to fulfill their aspirations are steadfast in purpose.

The Extended Exposition cites the Zhuangzi: When Zengzi lived in the state of Wei, he wore shabby, old clothes. A “wadded robe” was padded with tangled hemp fibers; “without an outer layer” means the garment had no covering and was mottled and uneven in color. Zengzi worked with his own hands until his palms and feet were thick with calluses. He went three days without cooking a meal and, for ten years, made no new clothes. When he adjusted his cap, its ties would snap; when he lifted his robe, his elbows showed; and when he put on his shoes, their heels were worn through. He dragged his shoes as he sang the “Hymn of Shang.” His voice rang through Heaven and Earth, sounding like the clear notes of metal and stone. The Son of Heaven could not treat him as a subject, and the feudal lords could not treat him as a friend. This means that his singing was pure and refined, in harmony with the breath of Heaven and Earth, and its tones rang out like metal and stone, setting him apart from others.

The Extended Exposition also cites the Zhuangzi: Confucius said to Yan Hui, “Hui, your family is poor and your status low. Why don’t you come out and take office?” The relevant meaning has already been explained above, so it will not be repeated here.

One who does not lose one’s root can endure; when the body dies but the Dao does not perish, that is called longevity.

The Extended Exposition explains that “constancy” means endurance. The Commentary on the Image says that an exemplary person should stand firm and not depart from the upright Way. This is what it means not to lose one’s root.

The Constant hexagram in the Classic of Changes says: “Constant” means enduring. The firm Yang occupies the upper place, while the yielding Yin occupies the lower; the firm is honored, and the yielding remains below. The hexagram’s image is thunder and wind. From this, the noble person understands that one should hold fast to the right way in how one carries oneself and acts, and not change it lightly. “Direction” means the Way. The noble person follows the enduring Way in establishing themselves, and so does not change the direction they uphold.

The Tianrui chapter of the Liezi records a disciple telling Liezi: There is an existence that is not itself brought forth by anything else and does not change as things change. Because it neither comes into being nor undergoes change, it can bring forth and transform the myriad things. It gives rise to life and drives change: what has been born cannot help but be born, and what is changing cannot help but change.

The Dazongshi chapter of the Zhuangzi says: Only after transcending life and death can one reach a state of sudden, all-encompassing insight. Only then can one see the Dao, independent of the myriad things. Only by seeing the Dao can one transcend past and present; and only by transcending past and present can one reach a state beyond birth and death. One who can unite with the Dao can, in an instant, grasp principles that extend far into the past, forgetting the boundaries of before and after, far and near. This is called “seeing the unique.”

Here, the text also draws on the Buddhist idea of “quiescent extinction,” meaning transcendence of arising and ceasing and attainment of an undying state.

The Platform Sutra records that Master Huineng said to the palace attendant Xue Jian: “When I speak of nonarising and nonperishing, I mean that nothing originally came into being, and nothing now passes away. To understand this is to accord with the Way of long life.” This passage means that when people live between Heaven and Earth, if they are content with their proper place and follow the changes of nature, coming with change and departing with change, their conduct reveals the length of their lives. How much more, then, for those who cultivate the utmost Dao and absorb the primordial, harmonious Qi of Heaven and Earth: how could they fail to attain long life?

The commentator says: The human body is like the shell shed by a cicada, merely a form in which one lodges for a time.

Here the text quotes the “Discussion on the Equality of Things” in the Zhuangzi. The shadow’s shadow, Wangliang, asks the shadow a question. The shadow replies: “I move by relying on things such as the scales beneath a snake’s belly or a cicada’s wings. Without these things to rely on, I would have no way to act.” If one keeps asking what it relies on, the inquiry has no end. Ultimately, one should reach a state of relying on nothing, no longer governed by external things, and following alone the subtle, profound transformations.

Chapter Thirty-Four: “The Great Dao Flows Everywhere”

The Great Dao is vast and boundless, circulating without end and present everywhere. To the left or to the right, there is nowhere it cannot go.

The commentator says: The Dao is so high that nothing is higher, and so deep that nothing is deeper.

Here the text quotes the “Fuyan” chapter of the Wenzi. Laozi says: “The Dao is so high that nothing is higher, and so deep that nothing is deeper. It can rise above what has no summit and descend below what has no bottom; it can be high and deep, above and below. It is level like a measuring instrument and straight like a carpenter’s line, yet it is level everywhere without relying on a balance, and straight everywhere without relying on a line. It is round like a circle drawn with a compass, yet is not confined by roundness; it is square like a shape drawn with a carpenter’s square, yet is not confined by squareness. It contains Heaven and Earth, with no distinction between inside and outside: it is so great that it has no outside, and so small that it has no inside. It pervades and covers everything without obstruction; it is boundless and flows freely without impediment.”

Thus, those who realize the Great Dao feel neither anger nor joy. When sitting quietly, they have no worries in their hearts; when sleeping, they do not dream. This is to accord with the mysterious Dao. This serves as evidence that the Great Dao is vast and without fixed direction, circulating without constraint. Hence the saying: “The Great Dao is vast and boundless, present everywhere. To the left or to the right, there is nowhere it cannot go.”

The Great Dao (the Way) is everywhere. Whether one seeks it on the left or on the right, one can encounter its root.

Here, the text quotes the Mencius, “Lilu II”: “The exemplary person follows the right path and studies deeply in order to understand its principles for himself and truly attain them. Once he understands them, his mind becomes settled. When his mind is settled, his accumulation grows deep. With deep accumulation, whatever aspect he draws upon, he can reach the root. Thus the exemplary person values understanding principles through personal experience.” Those who practice by realizing the Great Dao should also turn their search inward, examining themselves and coming to understand the Dao from within.

All things depend on the Dao for their life, yet the Dao does not refuse them or claim them as its own. Once all things have come to fruition, the Dao does not claim credit.

Here, the text quotes the Book of Songs, “Lesser Odes: Liao’e”: “Without a father, whom can I rely on? Without a mother, what can I depend on? I leave home with sorrow in my heart, and return with nowhere to rest.” The passage uses these lines to explain that all things depend on the Dao for their life, just as a person depends on a mother to be conceived and nurtured.

The Dao cares for and nourishes all things but does not rule over them. It is always free of desire and seeking, and so may be called small. All things turn toward it, yet it still does not rule over them; in this way, it may also be called great.

Here, the text quotes the Book of Changes, “Appended Judgments”: “The Return hexagram is small, yet it distinguishes things.” This means that even in its earliest, most subtle beginnings, the Return hexagram—one of the sixty-four hexagrams in the Book of Changes—can discern whether things are auspicious or inauspicious. When one strays from the right path, one can also return in time, before going too far.

Chapter Thirty-Five: Holding to the Great Image

When one grasps the Dao’s complete pattern, people throughout the world will come and submit to it. Once they have gathered, they will do one another no harm, and the world will be settled, peaceful, and harmonious.

Here, the text cites the story of Shun: his De (Virtue) spread widely like the scent of sacrificial meat, and the people therefore loved him. He moved from place to place, and wherever he settled, a town grew around him. By the time he reached the old ruins of Deng, a hundred thousand households had come to join him.

A passage is copied from “Xu Wugui” in the Zhuangzi. The relevant principles have already been discussed and will not be repeated here.

The extended explanation says: When the Great King lived in Bin, the Di people invaded. He moved to the foot of Mount Qi, built a settlement there, and made his home in it. Those who followed him came in such numbers that it was like a market day.

A passage is copied from “King Hui of Liang, Part Two” in the Mencius. Duke Wen of Teng asked: The people of Qi are preparing to build a wall around Xue, and I am very worried. The relevant principles have already been discussed and will not be repeated here.

The extended explanation says: When the Great King lived in Bin, the Di people invaded. He moved to the foot of Mount Qi, built a settlement there, and made his home in it. Those who followed him came in such numbers that it was like a market day.

A passage is copied from “King Hui of Liang, Part Two” in the Mencius. Duke Wen of Teng asked, “The people of Qi are preparing to build a wall around Xue, and I am very worried. What should I do?” This is Mencius’s reply to the Duke of Teng. Its principles have already been discussed in detail and will not be repeated here.

The extended explanation says: The state is secure, the people are prosperous, and everyone gladly enjoys a peaceful life.

A passage is copied from the first volume of the Lingbao Scripture of Infinite Salvation: “All join in harmony and show one another compassion; even those who were originally of different peoples can be like family. The state is secure, the people are prosperous, and they gladly enjoy a peaceful life.” This means that a ruler who follows the Dao can bring the people to his side. No one is harmed; each person lives in peace, and all enjoy a life of safety and happiness.

The extended explanation says: When all under Heaven is at peace, there are no dangers of imbalance or upheaval.

A passage is copied from the “Appended Statements” in the Book of Changes. The Book of Changes says: “Nothing remains level forever without becoming uneven; becoming uneven means collapse.”

“Music and fine food can make passing guests stop on their way.”

The extended explanation says: The Zhuangzi records that Beimen Cheng asked the Yellow Emperor, “You once played the music of ‘Xianchi’ in the wilderness of Dongting…”

This passage paraphrases the meaning of the “Tianyun” chapter of the Zhuangzi. Beimen Cheng’s surname was Beimen and his given name was Cheng; he was a minister of the Yellow Emperor. Through a dialogue between Beimen Cheng and the Yellow Emperor, the author develops, step by step, the Way of “ultimate joy,” the highest state of happiness.

“Xianchi” is the name of a piece of music, and “zhang” means to perform or play it. “Xian” carries the sense of harmony. “The fields of Dongting” refers to the space between Heaven and Earth, not to the great lake Dongting. “Dai” means to relax or recede; “zu” means finally; “fu” means again; and “huo” means dim or unclear.

When one first hears the music, one is startled and afraid. Hearing it again, one gradually grasps its meaning, and the fear begins to recede. By the final hearing, one understands ultimate joy. Ultimate joy accords with Heaven and Earth—the “two forms,” meaning Heaven and Earth—and transcends ordinary sight and hearing. The mind therefore makes no distinctions, as though it were in a dim, unknowing state. With a level, impartial mind, still and unaware, one reaches “sitting in forgetfulness” amid this vast obscurity: forgetting oneself and external things alike, and no longer clinging to the distinction between self and other.

The Yanyi then tells the story of Qian Ao distributing food. During a famine in the state of Qi, Qian Ao prepared food by the roadside and waited for hungry people to come and eat. A starving man approached in a daze, shielding his face with his sleeve and dragging his worn-out shoes. Holding food in his left hand and a drink in his right, Qian Ao called to him, “Hey, come and eat!” The man raised his eyes to look at him and said, “It is because I refuse to eat food offered with such a contemptuous tone that I have fallen into this state.” In the end, he refused the food and starved to death.

The Mencius, in “Gaozi I,” says: A basket of rice and a bowl of soup can keep a person alive if they are eaten; without them, a person will starve to death. If someone offers food with a tone of rebuke, even an ordinary passerby will refuse it. If the food is thrown down in front of someone, even a beggar will not accept it.

Zhu Xi explained: “Dou” is a wooden vessel for holding food; “hu’er” describes calling to someone in a scolding, contemptuous manner; “a person on the road” means an ordinary passerby; “cu” means to tread on something with the foot; and “bu xie” means not considering something clean or acceptable. The point is that even when hunger threatens life, people still recoil from a discourteous handout and would rather starve than eat it. This is the inborn human sense of shame and aversion, showing that some things in the human heart matter more than life. The example here is similar in meaning to refusing a handout that carries an insult: hunger is an immense hardship, yet some people would rather die than eat food placed before them because they cannot accept the giver’s disrespectful attitude. It also shows that a passerby may not be tempted by food into stopping.

The Yanyi quotes Zhuangzi as saying that benevolence and righteousness bind people deeply. Someone may see food and refuse to eat it, choosing death without regret because they abhor a discourteous handout. This shows that a passerby, too, may resist the temptation of food and keep walking.

The Yanyi also says that, in Zhuangzi’s view, benevolence and righteousness were merely temporary lodgings borrowed by the former kings: one could stay for a night, but not remain for long.

The “Tianyun” chapter of the Zhuangzi explains: “Qu lu” means an inn or post station, a place where one cannot stay for long. To use benevolence to care for everyone and righteousness to judge right and wrong is like lodging at an inn by the roadside; in the end, one cannot remain there permanently. To live among people for the long term and guide them back toward the Great Way, one should follow the Way’s transformations, lead people back to the Way, and preserve a simplicity that is natural and enduring. How, then, could these principles be casually abandoned?

When the “Way” is spoken of, it is bland and tasteless. Look at it, and it cannot be clearly seen; listen to it, and no sound can be heard. Yet in its use, it is inexhaustible.

The Yanyi quotes the Liezi: The forms of the myriad things certainly exist, but the source that gives them form does not itself exist in any fixed form.

The passage copied from “The Signs of Heaven and Earth” chapter of the Liezi already contains the relevant meaning, so it will not be copied again here. It says that the workings of Wuwei (non-action) accord with the Dao (the Way). Could the Dao’s wondrous reality and function ever be exhausted?

Chapter Thirty-Six: When You Would Draw Something In

If you would draw something in, you must first let it expand. If you would weaken something, you must first let it grow strong. If you would abolish something, you must first let it arise. If you would take something, you must first give to it. This is called “subtle insight”: discernment revealed through what is minute.

The Explication of the Meaning says: The deepest wisdom of the sage lies above all in the subtle use of expedient means and the true Way. If you would weaken something, you must first let it grow strong; if you would abolish something, you must first let it arise; if you would take something, you must first give to it. This is called “subtle insight.”

The Explication of the Meaning also says: The deepest wisdom of the sage lies above all in the Way of expedient means and truth.

The Celestial Master Du of the Tang dynasty explained: “Sages establish teachings by two means: the expedient and the true. Those with superior capacities and keen understanding can grasp the true teaching directly. Those of middling or lesser capacities must first be guided through expedient teachings. Expedient methods are flexible and wide-ranging. According to the classics, they can be broadly divided into four kinds.

First, if you wish to draw someone in, begin by letting them expand. This is a way to bring their mind under control. Second, if you wish to make someone yielding, first let them assert their strength. This is a way to bring their temperament under control. Third, if you wish to make someone abandon desire, first let desire arise in them. This is a way to bring their cravings under control. Fourth, if you wish to take away someone’s greed, first give them what they crave.

When the mind is pure and restrained, it can accord with the Dao (the Way); when the mind is extravagant and unrestrained, faults arise. Someone who falls into trouble through extravagance will reflect and wish to regain restraint. This is the expedient method of first letting the mind run its course, then drawing it back. When one’s temperament is yielding, De (Virtue/Power) can be preserved; when it is forceful, calamity arises. Someone who brings trouble upon themselves by asserting their strength will come to wish for a return to yielding. This is the expedient method of subduing the temperament and curbing forcefulness. When desires are few, conduct is upright; when desires are many, the spirit grows clouded. When desire becomes so intense that the mind is utterly clouded, a person will reflect and wish to regain clarity. This is the expedient method of first letting desire develop, then bringing it to rest so the spirit may be clarified. When one is free of craving, one can live frugally; when craving reaches its height, it brings calamity. Someone who suffers because of their cravings will come to wish for a return to frugality. This is the expedient method of using frugality to restrain greed.

These methods first allow an extravagant mind to develop to its extreme, leaving a person trapped by craving, and then guide them back to their original nature and toward cultivating the Dao. At first hearing, some may think this runs counter to the principle of “Wuwei (non-action), through which things transform of themselves.” But people differ in their innate capacities: some are keen, others dull; some awaken suddenly, others gradually. Those who awaken suddenly need no expedient methods. Those who are gradually taught require skillful guidance. That is why there is a distinction between expedient and true teachings. The ultimate aim of the expedient path is to guide people back to the right course of the Great Dao; thus, an expedient method is valued for ultimately conforming to the right way.

If petty people handle expedient methods carelessly, they may use them to deceive others. For this reason, such methods should not be lightly imparted to those who do not understand what is right. The Analects says, “One may stand alongside someone in the world, but that does not mean one can work with them in adapting to circumstances.” This shows that putting the expedient path into practice is no easy matter.

The Yanyi says: “It is like the sage who sees frost and thereby knows that hard ice is on its way.”

Here the text quotes the line from the Book of Changes, “Kun Hexagram”: “Six at the beginning: Treading on frost, hard ice is on its way.” “Six at the beginning” refers to the lowest Yin line of the Kun Hexagram. When you first step on a thin frost beneath your feet, you can already foresee the coming of severe cold. This describes Yin energy just beginning to appear, still very faint but gradually accumulating until it becomes hard ice. A force that is soft and yielding at first can grow strong through the passage of time.

The commentary further says: King Goujian of Yue wanted to weaken the state of Wu, so he urged the king of Wu to attack the state of Qi.

The Records of the Grand Historian recounts that when Confucius was in the state of Wei, he heard that Tian Chang of Qi was preparing to rebel. He said to his disciples, “I cannot bear to watch my ancestral state of Lu suffer an enemy’s attack. I now wish to humble myself for a time and visit Tian Chang, in the hope of saving Lu. Who is willing to go as an envoy?” Zigong asked to go, and Confucius agreed.

Zigong arrived in Qi and urged Tian Chang to postpone his campaign. “I am willing to seek help for you from Wu. If you rescue Lu and attack Qi, you can take the opportunity to lead your troops against them,” he said. Tian Chang agreed. Zigong then traveled south and persuaded the king of Wu that rescuing Lu and attacking Qi would in fact weaken the powerful state of Qi. By rescuing Lu and attacking Qi, Wu could also establish its prestige in the eyes of Jin. The other lords would surely come to pay court one after another, and Wu’s bid for supremacy would flourish. The king of Wu then sent Zigong to Yue.

Zigong said to King Goujian of Yue, “I have just urged the king of Wu to rescue Lu and attack Qi. He wants to send out his troops, but is afraid of Yue.” Goujian bowed until his head touched the ground and said, “In the past, I overestimated myself and went to war with Wu, only to be trapped at Kuaiji. The bitterness remains etched in my bones. Day and night I have ground my teeth, wanting only to fight the king of Wu to the death. That is my dearest wish. Now I am grateful for your guidance on the advantages and dangers.” Zigong said, “The king of Wu is fierce and violent, and his ministers can scarcely endure him. His state is exhausted as well. This is the moment to take revenge on Wu.”

King Goujian of Yue therefore sent his minister Wen Zhong to bow before the king of Wu and request, “Yue is willing to place all three thousand of its soldiers at Wu’s disposal.” The king of Wu accepted Yue’s troops and politely declined Goujian’s offer to remain in attendance. He then personally led his state’s army to attack Qi and defeated its forces.

Zigong next traveled north to visit the ruler of Jin, persuading him to act while Wu was exhausted. Wu and Jin eventually met in an alliance at Huangchi. Seizing the opportunity, the king of Yue attacked Wu. When the king of Wu returned, he fought Yue, and Wu was destroyed.

Confucius said, “Disrupting Qi and preserving Lu were my original aims. If Jin could be strengthened and Wu exhausted, and in the end Wu destroyed and Yue made hegemon, that was the result of Zigong’s persuasions. If words are made too pleasing, they can damage trust. One must speak with care.”

The Yan Yi says: Duke Huan of Qi loved fine food, so Yi Ya cooked his own son and served the meat to him. The ruler of Yu treasured precious things, so Duke Xian of Jin tempted him with a jade disc and a fine horse. The king of Hu loved music, so Duke Mu of Qin lured him with singing and dancing performers.

“Pleasing words can undermine trust; take care in what you say” means that attractive words may damage honesty, so one should speak cautiously. The stories of Yi Ya cooking his son, Duke Xian presenting a fine horse and a jade disc, and Duke Mu offering female musicians all describe people being tempted through their particular desires. The disc and horse were precious jade and a fine steed; “female musicians” refers to performers who sang and danced for an audience.

This passage is copied from the “Mastery of Technique” chapter of the Huainanzi. The Honglie Jie says that Duke Huan of Qi loved fine food, so Yi Ya boiled his own son and served him to the duke.

According to the “Hereditary House of Qi” in the Records of the Grand Historian, Duke Huan’s first three wives had no sons. He was fond of women and kept many favored concubines. Six held a status equivalent to that of a wife: the elder Wei consort bore Wukui; the younger Wei consort bore Yuan, later Duke Hui; Zheng consort bore Zhao, later Duke Xiao; Ge Ying bore Pan, later Duke Zhao; Mi consort bore Shangren, later Duke Yi; and Song Huazi bore Prince Yong. Jia Kui says that Song Huazi was a woman of the Hua clan of Song, with the surname Zi.

Prince Yong’s steward, Yongcheng, was favored by Consort Gong. According to the Rites of Zhou, the officials in charge of food included the Inner Yong and Outer Yong; the Yongcheng mentioned here was Yi Ya’s official post. Yi Ya made lavish offerings through the eunuch Shu Diao, and so also won Duke Huan’s favor. The duke granted his request. Once Yi Ya had gained favor, he asked the elder Wei consort to have Wukui appointed heir apparent.

When Guan Zhong was gravely ill, Duke Huan asked, “Who among my ministers could serve as chief minister?” Guan Zhong replied, “No one knows the ministers better than their ruler.” The duke asked, “What about Yi Ya?” Guan Zhong replied, “To please his ruler, he went so far as to kill his own son. This is against ordinary human feeling; he should not be entrusted with important responsibilities.”

The duke then asked, “What about Kaifang?” Guan Zhong replied, “He abandoned his family to please his ruler. This too is against ordinary human feeling, and he is difficult to trust.” Kaifang, a prince of Wei, gave up his position as heir to the ruler of a major state and came to submit himself to Duke Huan of Qi.

The duke asked again, “What about Prince Shu Diao?” Guan Zhong replied, “To please his ruler, he went so far as to castrate himself. This is against ordinary human feeling, and he is difficult to trust.” After Guan Zhong died, Duke Huan ignored his advice and ultimately drew these three men close and put them in positions of power. The three seized control, giving rise to the story of Yi Ya cooking his son to please Duke Huan of Qi.

The ruler of Yu loved precious objects, so Duke Xian of Jin lured him with jade and fine horses. According to the “Second Year of Duke Xi” in the Spring and Autumn Annals, Xun Xi of Jin asked to take fine horses from Qu and beautiful jade from Chuiji to Yu, in exchange for passage through its territory so that Jin could attack Guo. Xun Xi was also known as Xun Shu. Qu was a source of fine horses.

“Chuiji” produced fine jade, so it was named after the place. A carriage drawn by four horses was called a sheng. The state of Jin was on its way to attack Guo, and the route passed through Yu, so Jin asked Yu for permission to cross its territory. Duke Xian of Jin said, “These are my treasures.” His minister replied, “If we can borrow a route through Yu, Yu will be like an outer storehouse for you, and these horses will be as good as stored there.”

Duke Xian said, “Gong Zhiqi is still in Yu.” Gong Zhiqi was a loyal minister of Yu. The minister replied that Gong Zhiqi was timid by nature and could not speak up firmly in remonstrance. Besides, he and the ruler of Yu had grown up together, and the ruler was fond of him. Even if Gong Zhiqi did remonstrate, the ruler would not listen. Duke Xian therefore sent Xun Xi to ask Yu for a route. The ruler of Yu agreed, and even asked to attack Guo first. Jin gladly sent generous gifts to ingratiate itself with the ruler of Yu. Gong Zhiqi tried to dissuade him, but the ruler would not listen. Jin then sent its army and destroyed Xiayang in Guo.

Five years later, Duke Xian of Jin again asked Yu for a route to attack Guo. Gong Zhiqi warned the ruler of Yu: “Yu and Guo support one another like a screen and a barrier. If Guo falls, Yu will surely suffer next. Jin’s ambitions must not be encouraged, and the enemy must not be underestimated. The first time was already too much; how can you agree again? As the saying goes, the cheek depends on the jawbone, and when the lips are gone, the teeth grow cold. That is exactly the relationship between Yu and Guo.” The ruler of Yu still would not listen.

On the bingzi day of the twelfth month in winter, Jin destroyed Guo, and Duke Chou of Guo fled to the Zhou royal court. On its way back, the Jin army camped in Yu, then seized the opportunity to attack and destroy it. The army captured the ruler of Yu and the minister Jing Bo and handed them over to Qin Mugong’s wife, Mu Ji. Mu Ji was the daughter of Duke Mu of Qin and the daughter of Duke Xian of Jin. A woman sent to accompany a bride was called a ying. Here, the account says that Duke Xian of Jin used a jade disc and fine horses as bait to lure the ruler of Yu into a trap, ultimately bringing humiliation upon him.

Another example is Duke Mu of Qin’s use of female musicians to deceive the king of the Rong. The Basic Annals of Qin in the Records of the Grand Historian states that the king of the Rong sent You Yu as an envoy to Qin. You Yu’s ancestors had been people of Jin, but later fled to Rong territory; he spoke the language of Jin. Hearing that You Yu was capable, Duke Mu of Qin asked his Director of the Interior, Liao, what he should do. Liao advised sending female musicians to the king of the Rong to distract his mind, then finding a way to drive a wedge between the king and You Yu and keep You Yu in Qin so he could not return on time. If the king grew suspicious of You Yu and a rift opened between ruler and minister, Qin would have an opportunity to seize Rong territory. And if the king became absorbed in music, he would neglect affairs of state.

Duke Mu followed the advice. He first engaged You Yu in friendly conversation, asking in detail about Rong’s terrain and military strength. Then he sent Director Liao with two groups of female musicians. The king of the Rong accepted them and was delighted, keeping them there all year. Qin then allowed You Yu to return and later sent people several times to invite him secretly. In the end, You Yu left Rong and joined Qin. Duke Mu treated him as an honored guest and asked him how to attack Rong. Later, Qin followed You Yu’s strategy, attacked the king of the Rong, annexed twelve states, expanded its territory by a thousand li, and established hegemony over the western Rong.

The stories of Yu and Rong are cited here to explain the way of restraint and expansion, giving and taking, contained in the Dao De Jing’s idea of “mysterious sameness” (xuántóng): remaining hidden and aligning with the course of things. At times, giving something first or appearing weak is precisely a way to gain a greater advantage later.

The Zhuangzi, in the chapter “Xu Wugui,” tells of Xu Wugui’s visit to Marquis Wu of Wei. He first spoke about how to judge dogs and horses, then prompted the marquis to reflect on his own spirit and circumstances, and finally turned the conversation toward the art of governing. This shows how someone who knows when to advance and when to yield can use the method of “drawing in and extending outward” (contraction and expansion).

Xu Wugui’s surname was Xu, and his courtesy name was Wugui. He was a recluse from the state of Wei. He was introduced to Marquis Wu through Nü Shang, a favorite of the Wei ruler. Marquis Wu was the son of Marquis Wen of Wei. The marquis asked him, “You must be tired, sir. Life in the mountains and forests is hard, so you have agreed to come and see me.” Xu Wugui replied, “I am the one who worries for the ruler. What is there for you to worry about on my behalf? If you indulge your desires and intensify your likes and dislikes, the natural condition of your life will be harmed. If you suppress your desires and deliberately control your likes and dislikes, your eyes and ears will grow weary. I worry for you, so what is there for you to worry about on my behalf?” Marquis Wu looked troubled and did not answer.

After a while, Xu Wugui said, “I once told you that I can judge dogs. A low-grade dog cares only about getting enough to eat; that is the nature of a wildcat. A middle-grade dog has an alert gaze. A high-grade dog seems to forget even that it exists. But judging dogs is not as good as judging horses. When I judge horses, those that run straight follow the ink line, those that turn follow the curve of a hook, those that make square turns follow the carpenter’s square, and those that make circles follow the compass. These are good horses, but they are still not as good as the finest horses in the world. The finest horses are naturally endowed and perfectly formed. Their expressions sometimes seem anxious or alarmed, sometimes as if they have lost something, and sometimes as if they have forgotten themselves. When they run, they surpass the ordinary; even dust cannot catch them, and their destination is hard to discern.”

Marquis Wu was delighted to hear this. After Xu Wugui left, Nü Shang asked him, “What exactly did you say to make the ruler so happy?” Nü Shang explained that he had advised the marquis using the Odes, the Documents, the Rites, and the Music. He had also discussed military texts such as the Golden Edition and the Six Secret Teachings, and spoken of assisting the ruler and earning great merit, but he had never made the marquis so cheerful.

Xu Wugui replied, “I simply told him directly that I can judge dogs and horses.” Nü Shang did not understand. Xu Wugui then made an example of exiles from Yue: after leaving their homeland for a few days, they were glad to see someone they knew; after ten days or half a month, they were glad to see someone they had encountered back home; after a year, they were glad to see anyone with a similar appearance. The longer people were away, the deeper their longing for home became. Those who flee into empty wilderness and walk along paths overgrown with mugwort and weeds are glad even to hear their own footsteps. How much more delighted they must be to hear the voices and coughs of brothers and relatives nearby!

Xu Wugui lamented that for a long time Marquis Wu had had no “true person”—someone who understood the genuine Dao—to speak with him in words that accorded with his nature. Since the marquis usually took pleasure in dogs and horses, Xu Wugui began with a subject that interested him, then guided him toward hearing what was right. To begin with what appeals to another person and then, at the right moment, draw back and turn toward counsel is the method of “drawing in and extending outward, giving and taking.”

Softness can overcome strength. Fish cannot leave the deep water; once they do, they are caught. The important instruments of state and the authority held by a ruler, too, must not be shown casually to others.

The Yanyi says: This is like a fish that cannot leave the deep water. Once it leaves, people will catch it.

The chapter “Gengsang Chu” in the Zhuangzi says: A great beast large enough to fill a cart should not be seen by people once it has left the forest. Away from the place where it can hide, it falls into the danger of nets and traps. A great fish that could swallow a boat, if it thrashes its way out of the water, can be made to suffer even by ants. So birds and beasts do not mind high mountains, and fish and turtles do not mind deep waters—is this not the reason?

The Yanyi says: This is called “spontaneous transformation”: all things grow and function by following the changes proper to themselves.

The chapter “Zaiyou” in the Zhuangzi says: One who stands alone and depends on nothing else can be called supremely noble. The “person who alone possesses” mentioned here means someone whom the people gladly choose and support as their leader. They make him their ruler; this does not mean that he declares himself supreme and most noble. The chapter “Dazongshi” in the Zhuangzi says: Only after reaching “Dawn Clarity,” a state of lucid awareness, can one experience “the Alone.” Having experienced “the Alone,” one can transcend the distinction between past and present. Such a person lets the transformations of nature renew themselves day by day and moves along with them, without being constrained by external things or circumstances. This is why it is called “spontaneous transformation.”

The Yanyi says: The Book of Changes says, “Through yielding, one exercises authority.”

The “Appended Statements” of the Book of Changes says: “Through yielding, one exercises authority” means to adapt to the circumstances of the time. Only by responding to the right moment and acting in accordance with reason can one deal flexibly with events. If one does not adapt to the circumstances and respond to change, one cannot exercise authority.

The Yanyi concludes: This is like a fish that knows how to preserve itself.

That is why the “Xu Wugui” chapter of the Zhuangzi says: “The True Person does not want everyone to come and attach themselves to him. When too many people gather, it becomes difficult for them to be close to one another; when they are not close, things do not go smoothly. So the True Person is neither especially close to anyone nor especially distant from anyone. He holds to his De (Virtue/Power), nurtures equanimity, and responds to the world. This is what is called a True Person.”

The commentary says: The True Person is not greedy, like someone who craves mutton, and so can abandon clever schemes and calculations. He does not use rank or status to teach others, and so can abandon preconceptions and intentions. Having set aside deliberate acts of benevolence and righteousness and aligned himself with the Great Dao, he does not uphold benevolence and righteousness like Bo Yi and Shu Qi. It is like fish living freely together in rivers and lakes: they need not moisten one another with their breath to maintain their relationship. The image of fish forgetting one another in rivers and lakes is used here to criticize Emperor Shun’s practice of teaching the world through benevolence and righteousness.

Hand-copied Commentary on the Extended Meaning of the True Classic of the Way and Its Virtue, scroll nine, ends.

Hand-copied Commentary on the Extended Meaning of the True Classic of the Way and Its Virtue, scroll ten

Compiled by Wang Shouzheng, a reclusive scholar from Qing’an at Wufeng

Chapter Thirty-Seven: “The Constant Dao Acts Through Wuwei”

The Dao always proceeds in accordance with its own nature, yet there is nothing it does not bring to completion.

“The Dao takes Wuwei as its constant state” means that Wuwei is the Dao’s natural condition. Here, “Wuwei” means not forcing things through the intervention of subjective will.

The “Heaven and Earth” chapter of the Zhuangzi says: “The people of ancient times who governed the world had no greed, and the world was therefore prosperous; they did not act deliberately, and the myriad things transformed of themselves.” It also says: “Acting in accordance with nature is called Heaven; speaking in accordance with nature is called De.”

The text goes on to say that good people are few in the world, while those who are not good are many. This statement comes from the “Cutting Open Satchels” chapter of the Zhuangzi, where Robber Zhi says it in reply to his disciples. From this, we can see that good people find it difficult to establish themselves without relying on the Way of the sages; Robber Zhi, too, would find it difficult to succeed without relying on that Way. If good people are few and those who are not good are many, then the sages bring little benefit to the world and cause even greater harm.

Chapter Thirty-Eight: “One of Superior De Does Not Display De”

A person with superior De does not deliberately display De; for this reason, he truly has De.

Those of the highest De (Virtue) do not deliberately proclaim their virtue, and so truly possess it. Those of lesser De cling to the idea of not losing their virtue, and so do not truly possess it.

The Yanyi says: Some people act in ways that seem incomplete and unconventional, yet the people are affected by them every day without realizing it.

The Chao explains that “the actions of the fragmented” means that virtue remains inconspicuous, without deliberately displaying its effects or reputation. Here it refers to Zhilishu from the Zhuangzi, “In the Human World”: though his body was malformed, he made a living sewing clothes, washing garments, and telling fortunes, supporting himself and living out his full span of years. If even someone with a malformed body could support himself, how much more could someone whose virtue was not put on display? If this ordinary, inconspicuous way is maintained, the people will be influenced in their daily lives without knowing it.

The Appended Statements of the Book of Changes says: “The mutual transformation of Yin and Yang is the Dao; what carries on the Dao is goodness, and what brings the Dao to completion is nature.” The benevolent see benevolence in the Dao and call it benevolence; the wise see wisdom in it and call it wisdom. The people use the Dao every day without knowing it exists, so the way of the noble person is rarely truly understood. This passage means that those of the highest De do not treat virtue as something worth proclaiming. The people are influenced by them every day, yet remain unaware of it.

Those who practice ritual at a lower level deliberately impose it, but no one responds. They then roll up their sleeves and force people to comply.

The Yanyi says: Ritual means “to tread”—that is, a standard one can follow and put into practice. It distinguishes ranks between higher and lower and establishes an order of greater and lesser status.

The Chao explains that “distinguishing ranks between higher and lower” comes from the “Image” of the Treading hexagram in the Book of Changes: “Above is Heaven, below is the marsh: this is the image of Treading. The noble person distinguishes the ranks between higher and lower, and thereby settles the minds of the people.”

Jade and silk pass back and forth, and people respond to one another through ritual gestures. This means that ritual is a standard people can follow in practice: it distinguishes the ranks of those above and below, and brings peace to people’s minds.

The Great Image Commentary on the “Treading” hexagram in the Book of Changes says, “Heaven is above and the marsh below: this is the Treading hexagram.” From this, the exemplary person clarifies the distinctions between those above and below, bringing peace to the people’s minds.

The “Yang Huo” chapter of the Discourses of the States of Lu records Confucius as saying, “Ritual, ritual—is it only a matter of jade and silk, the objects used in ceremony? Music, music—is it only a matter of bells and drums, the instruments used in performance?” The Doctrine of the Mean in the Book of Rites says that ritual has three hundred formal provisions and three thousand specific observances, but all can be summed up in one phrase: “There is nothing that does not call for reverence.” Reverence is the foundation of ritual, and harmony is the foundation of music. A bearing that inspires awe is called “dignity”; conduct worthy of being a model is called “propriety.” Jade and silk are objects used in ritual to express its meaning; bells and drums are instruments used in music to guide harmony. Thus, reverence and harmony within are the foundations of ritual and music, while objects such as bells and drums are their outward forms. The exchange of jade and silk, the mutual response of dignified bearing, and gestures such as clasping the hands, kneeling, bowing, advancing and withdrawing, looking back, and making a respectful salute are all outward observances of ritual. If people concern themselves only with exchanging objects and responding with gestures, without anyone reciprocating, things will eventually come to blows, with people forcing one another.

The expressions “clasping the hands, kneeling, bowing,” and the like, come from the “In the Human World” chapter of the Zhuangzi. Yan Hui says that these are the proper courtesies of a minister. “Qing” means clasping the hands; “ji” means kneeling; “ququan” means bowing.

Zhuangzi says, “Great ritual accords with the rhythms of Heaven and Earth.” He also says, “Take ritual as your wings.”

The Book of Rites: Record of Music says, “The greatest music accords with the movements of Heaven and Earth; the greatest ritual accords with their rhythms.” When music is harmonious, the myriad things are not harmed. When ritual is measured and proper, people make offerings to Heaven and Earth. In the realm of light, ritual and music have their order; in the realm of darkness, the spirits respond.

It also says, “Only with ritual as your wings can you act in the world.” These are the words of the Zhuangzi, in the “Great and Venerable Teacher” chapter. If great ritual accords with the rhythms of Heaven and Earth, and one must act in the world through ritual, how can people still roll up their sleeves, bare their arms, and fight one another?

The Book of Rites says, “For another to come to you when you have not gone to them is contrary to ritual; for you to go to another when they have not come to you is also contrary to ritual.” This means that ritual serves to distinguish rank and status, and to mark degrees of closeness and distance. To “bare one’s arms” means to roll up one’s sleeves and expose one’s arms, then to seize and quarrel with one another. If one offers ritual first and the other does not respond, one may grow angry, and the two may come to blows.

Thus it is said, “A single unanswered word, or one bow performed in improper form, may leave the people of two states lying dead on the battlefield.” The Spring and Autumn Annals records that in the twelfth year of Duke Xuan of Lu, Chu once again sent an envoy to seek peace with Jin, and Jin agreed. But King Zhuang of Chu said, “This is beyond your understanding. After King Wu of Zhou defeated Shang, he composed a hymn saying that he would bring peace to the myriad states and secure repeated harvests. The use of force was meant to stop brutality, end warfare, consolidate the state, and secure its achievements, so that the people might live in peace, all might be in harmony, and resources might be plentiful. These principles were to be kept in mind by later generations. Now I have left the people of both states lying dead across the land. If I fight another battle and leave the people of Jin and Chu exposed in the wilderness, that will show I have failed to stop brutality.”

The Extended Meaning further says that the records give a detailed account of the Chu ruler’s meetings with the feudal lords during the Spring and Autumn period. It also says that in the age when the highest De prevailed, people were honest and sincere, yet did not know to call this quality “loyalty.”

The “Tian Di” chapter of the Zhuangzi says: In the age when Dao and De were most unadulterated, people did not honor the worthy or deliberately appoint the talented. The ruler stood high above, like a branch at the treetop; the people lived freely, like wild deer. People behaved properly without knowing it was righteousness; they cared for one another without knowing it was benevolence; they carried out their work fully and reliably without knowing it was loyalty; they acted appropriately without knowing it was trustworthiness. They acted naturally and cooperated with one another, without considering this the granting of favors.

Therefore, a great person should make solid substance the basis of their conduct, not superficiality; they should hold fast to what is genuine, not pursue outward display. Thus, they should set aside what is showy and choose what is solid and genuine.

The Yanyi says: During the Jin and Song dynasties, scholars gave themselves over to unruly conduct and became absorbed in talk of nothingness. They did not come to their senses even as their states fell and they themselves lost their lives.

A commentary records: When Sima Zhao held power, Ji Kang, a native of Qiao Commandery, wrote with striking force and grandeur. He enjoyed discussing the Zhuangzi and Laozi, and admired the unusual, chivalry, and righteousness. He was close to Ruan Ji of Chenliu, Ruan Ji’s nephew Ruan Xian, Shan Tao of Henei, Xiang Xiu of Henan, Wang Rong of Langya, and Liu Ling of Pei. They were known as the “Seven Sages of the Bamboo Grove.” They exalted nothingness, scorned ritual and law, drank wine to excess, and set the affairs of the world aside. At the time, Zhong Hui enjoyed the favor of Sima Zhao. Hearing of Ji Kang’s reputation, he went to visit him.

Ji Kang sat with his legs stretched out, hammering metal, and did not rise to salute. As Zhong Hui was about to leave, Ji Kang asked, “What did you hear that brought you here, and what did you see that makes you leave?” Zhong Hui replied, “I came because I heard what was worth hearing, and I leave because I saw what was worth seeing.” From then on, he bore a deep grudge against Ji Kang.

Later, when Shan Tao became Director of the Secretariat for Personnel, he recommended Ji Kang to take over his post. Ji Kang wrote to Shan Tao, saying that he was unsuited to the ways of the world and held in contempt the use of force by rulers such as Tang of Shang and King Wu of Zhou to overthrow their predecessors. When Sima Zhao heard of this, he flew into a rage. Ji Kang was close to Lü An, a native of Dongping. Zhong Hui then falsely accused Lü An and Ji Kang, claiming that their great reputations and unrestrained speech threatened the government and disrupted moral education, and that this was an opportunity to eliminate them. Lü An and Ji Kang were both put to death. This example is given to show what is meant by indulging oneself without knowing when to turn back: in the end, it brings down the state and costs a person their life. That is precisely what happened here.

The Book of the Southern Dynasties, in its “Chronicle of the Song,” records that Xie Lingyun was from Yangxia in Chen Commandery and was the son of Xie Ying, a Secretariat Gentleman. He was appointed from the capital to serve as Prefect of Yongjia. Yongjia Commandery had many famous mountains and rivers, places that Xie Lingyun had always loved. Unhappy in his post, he indulged his own wishes and traveled for pleasure across the counties, often staying away for ten days or half a month at a time. He no longer concerned himself with governing the people or hearing lawsuits; wherever he went, he wrote poems to express his feelings. After serving in the commandery for about a year, he resigned on grounds of illness. He then used illness as a reason to move to Kuaiji and build a residence on his old estate. Set against the mountains and overlooking the river, it offered every pleasure of secluded living. He reveled there with the recluses Wang Hongzhi and Zha Chunzhi, among others, and planned to spend the rest of his life in that place. He cut trees to open a road from the southern mountains of Shining, traveling all the way to Linhai with several hundred followers. Wang Zhu, the Prefect of Linhai, was greatly alarmed and thought they were bandits from the mountains.

The commentators say: Since the Jin dynasty, the Xie family’s refined traditions had passed from one generation to the next. Jingheng and Jingren were known for their virtue; Jingmao and Jingxian for their integrity. Fangming had a measured character, while Xuanhui excelled in writing. Each was outstanding in his own time, and together they may be called a distinguished family of virtue and renown. Xie Lingyun’s talent and fame had no equal in Jiangnan, yet he alone remained arrogantly self-indulgent, ultimately bringing about his own downfall. The saying “Each person has their own abilities” is indeed true. What a pity.

In ancient times, those who attained the “One” of the Dao found that heaven became clear, earth became peaceful, spirits became wondrous, valleys became full, and all things grew. Lords and kings thereby became the rightful rulers of the world. Each person, too, had their own capacity. These words are indeed credible—but how regrettable.

The “One” spoken of here is the essence produced by the Dao: primordial Qi, the Dao’s offspring. It is the harmonious, wondrous Qi born of the Dao, the root of Yin-Yang and the source of all things. Unchanged from ancient times to the present, it runs through everything without end. Primordial Qi can transform into Yin or into Yang, yet it belongs to neither. Even when it rises to the Jade Capital and Golden Palace—the celestial halls of Daoist belief—it does not thereby become pure; even when it dwells among brick, tile, and thatched huts, it does not thereby become turbid. The Primordial Yang of Qian uses it to bring all things into being, and the Primordial Yin of Kun uses it to nourish them. If one can govern the affairs of action, the power that rules behind all things will become apparent.

The “True Lord” is the ruler of the body, also called the “True Ruler,” the inner master. In the “Discourse on Making All Things Equal” in the Zhuangzi, it says that without external things there would be no self, and without a self there would be no way to know external things. This comes close, but it does not explain who, in the end, governs it all. It seems that a True Ruler exists, yet no trace of it can be found. Between it and its subjects, who governs whom? Or do they take turns as ruler and subordinate? Even if the True Lord truly exists, discovering its reality would neither add to nor diminish anything in itself.

“Lords” refers to the nobles of the five ranks; “king” refers to the ruler of a great state commanding ten thousand chariots.

In ancient times, the king was the most honored person within the Four Seas; a marquis ranked second among the five grades of nobility. The five grades—duke, marquis, earl, viscount, and baron—were established to assist the ruler. A sovereign commanding ten thousand chariots was a king, or Son of Heaven. The land under the Son of Heaven’s rule was said to contain one million taxable households and 640,000 well-field units, enough to supply one million warhorses and ten thousand chariots. For this reason, he was called “the lord of ten thousand chariots.”

The commentary explains the phrase “none fail to submit,” which appears in “Wen Wang You Sheng” in the Mao Commentary on the Book of Songs. The poem praises King Wu of Zhou for establishing his capital at Haojing and holding a ceremony at the Biyong, the ancient school and ritual site established by the Son of Heaven. People came from every direction to witness it, and all were moved by King Wu’s De; none failed inwardly to submit to him. The line “How splendid is the royal king!” praises King Wu’s abundant De, sufficient to make him worthy to rule. The poem is cited here to explain that the people of the myriad states gladly submit because the ruler has attained the One (the Dao) and uses the Dao to set the world in order. Thus it says: “When the marquis and king attain the One, they can become the standard for the world.”

The Dao’s workings are seen in this: if Heaven cannot remain clear, it may collapse; if Earth cannot remain stable, it may quake; if the spirits lose their efficacy, they may dissipate; if the valleys cannot remain full, they may dry up. If the myriad things lose their vitality, they may perish; if the marquis and king lose their honored position, they may be overthrown.

The commentary also cites a story from the Liezi: a man in the state of Qi feared that Heaven and Earth would collapse, leaving him nowhere to live.

This passage cites the “Tianrui” chapter of the Liezi. There was a man in the state of Qi. Yin Tang enfeoffed descendants of the Xia dynasty in Qi, and the Zhou dynasty continued to invest them with the title. The former territory of Qi lay in Yongqiu County of Chenliu Commandery, around what is now Qizhou. The Extended Explanation has already recorded this in detail, so it is not copied again here.

Thus, nobility takes lowliness as its root, and height takes what is low as its foundation. For this reason, rulers of the feudal states call themselves “orphan,” “widower,” and “unworthy.” Does this not mean that they take lowliness as their root? Is that not so?

The Extended Explanation says: “The title ‘orphan’ can be understood from a passage in the Zuo Commentary: ‘I and several of my ministers are anxious and at a loss.’”

A note cites the account for the seventh year of Duke Zhao in the Spring and Autumn Annals: King Ling of Chu built the Zhanghua Terrace and wanted to invite the feudal lords to attend its inauguration. King Ling said that he had inherited the work of his predecessors and dared not let it fall into ruin. He invited the lords to the ceremony and recalled that his late father, King Gong, had hoped to maintain friendly relations with them. By then, the throne had passed through four generations; the four kings were Gong, Kang, Jia’ao, and Ling. Chu had once been shown the kindness of a personal visit from Duke Xiang of Lu to offer condolences, but had received no such honor since. King Ling said, “I and several of my ministers are so anxious and confused that we cannot even attend to the affairs of state. How could we have the mind to remember the king’s kindness?” This refers to the turmoil in Chu after King Kang’s death, when the state was occupied with mourning, and to King Ling’s later breach of faith, which ultimately led to his unhappy end.

The Extended Explanation says: “The title ‘widower’ can be understood from the case of a former ruler who considered himself worthy.”

A note cites the account for the third year of Duke Yin in the Spring and Autumn Annals: Duke Xuan of Song did not appoint his own son, Yuyi, as ruler, but instead appointed his younger brother, Duke Mu. When Duke Mu fell gravely ill, he summoned Kongfu, the Grand Marshal, and entrusted the state to him, saying: “My late father did not appoint Yuyi but appointed me because he considered me worthy and entrusted me with governing the state. If I have virtue yet refuse to yield the throne, what will I say when my late father asks about Yuyi in the underworld? Please establish Yuyi as ruler and entrust the state to him. Even if I die, I will have no regrets.”

The Extended Explanation says: “The title ‘unworthy’ can be understood from sayings such as ‘I regret that I have failed to cultivate virtue.’”

The Spring and Autumn Annals records that in the eleventh year of Duke Cheng (580 BCE), Qin and Jin met to form an alliance at Linghu. Duke Li of Jin arrived first at the Yellow River, but Duke Huan of Qin refused to cross the river to attend. Qin broke its alliance with Jin, so Duke Li sent Lü Xiang to sever relations with Qin.

Lü Xiang challenged Duke Huan, saying, “The people of Chu think you are fickle. They have also told us: ‘Qin broke the alliance at Linghu, then came to seek an alliance with us. Qin declared before August Heaven, the Supreme Emperor, Qin’s three former dukes, and Chu’s three former kings: “Although I have made alliances with Jin, I care only whether they are advantageous to me.”’ I despise this faithless and unpredictable conduct, so I am making these words public to reprimand those who are fickle.”

End of Handwritten Notes on the Extended Meaning of the True Scripture of the Dao and Its Virtue, Volume Ten

Handwritten Notes on the Extended Meaning of the True Scripture of the Dao and Its Virtue, Volume Eleven

Chapter Forty: “Reversal is the movement of the Dao”

“Reversal is the movement of the Dao”: returning and reverting are the way the Dao operates.

The Book of Changes, in its “Return” hexagram, says: “The firm and vigorous Qi returns; all things begin to move with it and proceed in accordance with its course.” Thus, advancing and retreating, coming and going, encounter no obstruction; when Yang Qi gathers with its own kind, no calamity follows. Wang Bi’s commentary explains that when Yang Qi enters within, it returns; as it grows outward, its firmness and vigor gradually increase, so its movement meets no obstruction. Here, “affliction” means harm or obstruction, while “companions” refers to Yang Qi.

The Book of Changes also says: “When all things are still and silent, their activity does not show itself. Once stirred by a response, they can comprehend the transformations of all things under Heaven.”

The Appended Statements of the Classic of Changes says: “Change—the Way of transformation—has no fixed thoughts and makes no deliberate effort. It is still and unmoving, yet through resonance it understands the causes of all things under Heaven. If not a person of utmost sincerity, who could reach such a state?”

An extended explanation says: Look up and observe the celestial patterns; look down and examine the earth.

A commentary on the Appended Statements of the Classic of Changes says: In this way, one can explain broadly the patterns by which Heaven and Earth operate, observing astronomy above and geography below, and so understand the causes of darkness and light. By tracing things back to their beginnings and examining where they ultimately arrive, one can understand the principles governing the changes of life and death.

An extended explanation says: Among the Five Phases (Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, and Water) is Water. Water can turn back and flow toward unity, while acting in accord with the right moment.

The passage copied here comes from the “Yellow Emperor” chapter of the Liezi. Its relevant content is already presented in full in the “Inner Dao: The Chapter on Emptiness” in the Dao Scripture, where its meaning has been fully explained. There is no need to copy out the general meaning again here. “Turning back and flowing toward unity” means that when water turns back and flows, it accords with the Dao; when it is deep, still, and clear, it can remain unified. Laozi says, “The mind is good at being like a deep pool.” This means the mind is empty and still like an abyss, unmixed with external things. Though the form of flowing water changes as its waves move, its deep, still, and clear nature does not change. It can also act in accord with the right moment. Thus it is said that water turns back and flows toward unity, and acts skillfully by seizing the moment.

Softness and weakness are the function of the Dao.

An extended explanation says: To point at me is to overcome me; to tread on me is to overcome me. Wind moving through the vast expanse of space may be called soft and weak.

She asked the wind, “I twist my back and ribs to move, and that seems much like the way you move. Now you rise vigorously from the North Sea and enter the South Sea just as vigorously, appearing without form or shadow. Why is that?” The wind replied, “That is indeed so. I rise vigorously from the North Sea and enter the South Sea just as vigorously. Yet if someone points a finger at me, I am no match for it; if someone stamps a foot on me, I am no match for that either. Only I can break great trees and tear the roofs from large houses. I rush from north to south, striking and raising the sea. But if someone blocks me with a finger, I cannot break it; if someone steps on me, I cannot break their foot. This shows that even in such small matters, there are things I cannot do.”

The Expanded Explanation says: When an opening is made in the water toward the east, it flows east; when an opening is made toward the west, it flows west. From this we can see that water relies on the Great Void—the boundless expanse of space—and may be called soft and yielding.

Gaozi said, “Human nature is like a swift current. Open a channel to the east, and the water flows east; open one to the west, and it flows west. Human nature has no innate distinction between good and evil, just as a current has no fixed direction, east or west.” “Swift” describes the surging, swirling movement of water.

The Expanded Explanation says: The Liezi states that things with form arise from what has no form. From what, then, did Heaven and Earth arise?

The “Tianrui” chapter of the Liezi says, “The sages of old understood Heaven and Earth through the Yin-Yang. Things with form arise from what has no form. From what, then, did Heaven and Earth arise?”

The “Tianrui” chapter of the Liezi says: Liezi once said that the sages of antiquity governed Heaven and Earth by following the transformations of Yin-Yang. If formed things arise from the formless, where did Heaven and Earth themselves arise from? Heaven and Earth are the greatest of formed things. Yin and Yang have no awareness of their own. If formed things can arise from the formless, then do Heaven and Earth, too, have awareness and a mind-nature? If Heaven and Earth have no awareness or mind-nature, where did they arise from? This hypothetical question is posed to explain that all things come into being through generation.

Chapter Forty-One: When the Highest Type of Person Hears the Dao

When people of the highest capacity hear the Dao, they diligently put it into practice. Those of middling capacity sometimes keep it in mind and sometimes forget it. Those of the lowest capacity burst out laughing when they hear the Dao. If they did not laugh at it, the Dao would not be worthy of the name.

The Yanyi says: “Perhaps only Yan Hui heard instruction without ever growing weary.”

The “Zihan” chapter of the Analects says: Confucius said, “Perhaps Yan Hui was the one who heard instruction without ever growing weary.” Master Fan’s commentary explains: Yan Hui understood Confucius’s words and worked hard to put them into practice. Whether in his daily life or in times of hardship and urgency, he never went against what he had learned. Like all things flourishing when nourished by timely rain, how could he grow weary? The other disciples could not match him.

The Yanyi also says: This is like the teaching in the Analects that one should explain principles at different levels of depth according to the listener’s capacity.

The “Yongye” chapter of the Analects says: Confucius believed that people whose capacity was above the middle could be taught profound principles, while those whose capacity was below the middle should not be given overly profound teachings directly. They might fail to understand, or even mistakenly think they had understood and try to advance too quickly. As a result, what they learned would have no bearing on their own situation, and they would ultimately remain at a shallow level.

The Yanyi gives another example: When Zixia went out, he felt delighted at the sight of the splendor and beauty around him. When he returned home and heard Confucius’s teachings, he felt joy once again.

The “Book of Rites” in the Records of the Grand Historian says that Zixia was one of Confucius’s disciples, outstanding in virtue. Even he could find himself in this situation: when he went out and saw scenes of splendor and beauty, he felt joy in his heart; when he returned home and heard the Master’s teachings, he felt joy again. Torn between these two thoughts, he could not decide for himself. What, then, of ordinary people—especially those of lesser ability—who are gradually affected by a lack of proper teaching and immersed in worldly customs?

The Extended Meaning says: The eyes want to see beauty, the ears want to hear pleasing sounds, the mouth wants to taste delicious food, and the mind and vital energy are always seeking satisfaction.

In “Robber Zhi” in the Zhuangzi, Robber Zhi says to Confucius: “Now I will tell you what people are naturally like. Their eyes want to see beauty, their ears want to hear sounds, their mouths want to taste flavors, and their minds and vital energy are always seeking satisfaction. A person’s lifespan may be a hundred years if long, eighty if average, or sixty if short. Once illness, weakness, death, funerals, and sorrow are taken away, there are no more than four or five days in a month when one can laugh with delight. Heaven and Earth are without end, but human life and death have their appointed limits. To entrust a finite life to the boundless expanse of Heaven and Earth is like a fine horse racing past a gap in the door: it is over in an instant.”

The Extended Meaning says: This is like sending a Zhangfu cap to Yue, where it is regarded as something of little worth.

The “Free and Easy Wandering” chapter of the Zhuangzi says: “The people of Song took Zhangfu caps—the ceremonial caps worn in the Zou and Lu regions—as merchandise.” The people of Yue refers to those of the Baiyue region. In ancient times, they had the custom of cutting their hair and tattooing their bodies, and did not value caps or ceremonial garments. A Zhangfu cap was therefore not something they prized, which is why it was said to be worth little in Yue.

The Extended Meaning says: The unworked jade of He was cast aside in Chu.

Bian He was a man of Chu who lived at the foot of Mount Jing. Mount Jing lay in Chu and produced jade.

Bian He, whose surname was Bian and given name He, was a native of the state of Chu. He lived at the foot of Mount Jing, in Chu territory, a place rich in fine jade. Bian He found an uncarved piece of jade and offered it to the king of Chu. The king thought he was deceiving him and had his left foot cut off. After that king died, King Wu took the throne, and Bian He offered the jade again. King Wu also thought he was deceiving the former king, so he had Bian He’s right foot cut off. Holding the jade, Bian He wept on Mount Jing. After King Wu died, King Cheng took the throne, and Bian He offered the jade once more. King Cheng ordered it carved, and it proved to be fine jade of immeasurable value.

The Yanyi says: “Those with narrow understanding cannot be spoken with about the Great Dao.”

In the “Autumn Floods” chapter of the Zhuangzi, Beihai Ruo, the spirit of the North Sea, says: “A frog in a well cannot be spoken with about the sea, because its world is confined by where it lives; an insect of summer cannot be spoken with about ice, because its world is confined by the season; and those with narrow understanding cannot be spoken with about the Dao, because they are bound by what they have been taught.” This means that people of shallow understanding do not grasp the subtlety of the Great Dao, and when they hear of it, they simply laugh. If shallow-minded people did not laugh, the constant and true Dao—the Dao that endures without change—could not be made apparent.

Among the teachings handed down from ancient times are these words: “Those who understand the Great Dao seem dim; those who advance along the Dao seem to retreat; the level road seems rough. Those of the highest De are humble as a valley; what is purest white seems stained; abundant De seems insufficient; firm and vigorous De seems indolent; what is simple and true seems altered.”

The Yanyi quotes Confucius as saying: “I transmit the teachings of the ancients rather than create new ones. In private, I compare myself to Lao Peng.”

The “Shu’er” chapter of the Analects records Confucius as saying: “I transmit rather than create; I trust and love the teachings of antiquity. In private, I compare myself to Lao Peng.” The commentary explains that “transmit” means to pass on old teachings, while “create” means to establish new ones. Only sages can create; worthy people, too, can transmit. “In private, I compare myself” is a modest way of expressing respect for the person one takes as a model; “myself” is an intimate form of address. Lao Peng was a worthy minister of the Shang dynasty, mentioned in the Da Dai Liji. He was probably someone who revered antiquity and passed on its teachings.

The Yanyi also says: “A good merchant hides his treasures deep, so that on the outside he seems to have nothing. A person of profound De appears outwardly dull.”

According to the Records of the Grand Historian, during the reign of King You of Zhou, Confucius came to Zhou and respectfully asked Laozi about ritual. Laozi told him, “The people you speak of have long since had their bones buried deep in the earth; only their words remain. When a gentleman encounters the right time, he acts. When the time is not right, he goes along with circumstances, like tumbleweed swept along by the wind. I have heard that a skilled merchant hides precious goods as though he had nothing at all, and that a person of profound De (Virtue/Power) appears dull on the outside. You should rid yourself of pride and excessive desire, and restrain your affected manner and overreaching ambition. None of these will do you any good. This is all I can tell you.”

The “Ingrained Ideas” chapter of the Zhuangzi says, “The sage’s life follows the workings of nature; the sage’s death accompanies the transformations of all things. At rest, he is in harmony with Yin Qi; in action, he moves with Yang Qi. He does not get ahead of things, nor does he become the source of calamity. He acts only in response to what touches him from outside, and takes action only when circumstances leave him no choice.”

The commentary also mentions the Old Man of Hanyin, the elderly man who lived south of the Han River. He alone held fast to what was true, making the pursuit of truth his responsibility and setting himself apart from ordinary people.

After traveling south through the state of Chu, Zigong was returning when he passed the southern bank of the Han River. There he saw an old man tending a vegetable garden. The garden was divided into plots, fifty in all, each called a qi. The old man had dug a channel from a well and was carrying out water in a jar to irrigate the plots. It took great effort, yet achieved little.

Zigong said, “There is a device that can irrigate a hundred plots in a day with little effort and great effect. Would you not like to use it, sir?” The old man looked up and asked, “What device is that?” Zigong replied, “Make a lever from a piece of wood, with the heavier end at the back and the lighter end at the front. Then drawing water is as easy as pumping it: the water gushes out like rippling waves. This device is called a well sweep, a lever used to lift water.”

The old man’s expression changed, and he laughed. “I have heard my teacher say that using machines brings tasks suited to machines. Once those tasks arise, a calculating and contriving mind develops. When such a mind takes hold in the heart, one can no longer preserve an unalloyed nature. When one’s nature is no longer pure, the spirit becomes unsettled. When the spirit is unsettled, the Dao cannot dwell in it. It is not that I do not know of this device. I would be ashamed to use it, so I will not.” Hearing this, Zigong lowered his head in embarrassment and made no reply.

The Extended Meaning says: Follow the changes of things and move with them; harmonize with them without showing off your abilities.

An excerpt from the Zhuangzi: Gengsang Chu says: “When walking, do not know where you are going; when dwelling, do not know what you are doing. Follow the transformations of the myriad things and move with them; flow along with them. This is the secret to nourishing life.” Here, the teaching is to change with things, conceal one’s brilliance, and blend into ordinary life, flowing together with all things. The Perfected Person, one who has attained the Dao, makes no deliberate effort and can unite with the mysterious Great Dao.

“Great squareness has no corners; great vessels are completed late; great music is barely heard; great forms have no shape.” This means that what is most square shows no edges; the most important vessels are often completed only after a long time; the grandest sounds seem faint; and the greatest forms have no fixed shape.

The Extended Meaning says: It is like the Nine Tripods and the húlián, ritual vessels used in ancient sacrifices and banquets: all are precious and important objects.

An excerpted explanation says: “The Nine Tripods” are great cauldrons. The Inner Tradition of the Yellow Emperor says, “The Yellow Emperor stretched out his head…”

“Nine Tripods” refers to a large tripod. The Inner Traditions of the Yellow Emperor says that the Yellow Emperor mined copper at Mount Shou and cast a tripod at Mount Jing. Mount Jing lies south of present-day Hucheng, which is why it is called Mount Jing.

The term “Hulian” appears in the Analects, “Gongye Chang.” Zigong asked Confucius, “What kind of person am I?” Confucius replied, “You are a vessel.” Zigong asked, “What kind of vessel?” Confucius answered, “A hulian.” The Book of Rites says that hu, lian, fu, and gui were all ritual vessels for holding grains such as millet, used in ancestral temple sacrifices. In the Xia dynasty they were called “hu,” in the Shang “lian,” and in the Zhou “fu and gui.” These were all precious ritual vessels. Hence the saying: “A great vessel takes a long time to complete.”

The Extended Meaning quotes the Zhuangzi: “A fine achievement requires a long accumulation of effort.”

This line comes from “In the Human World” in the Zhuangzi. Ye Gong Ziqi was about to go on a diplomatic mission to Qi and sought Confucius’s advice, so Confucius cautioned him. The general meaning is that one should not alter the ruler’s commands at will when conveying them, nor press too hard to get things done quickly. Going beyond what is appropriate can instead bring trouble. The Zhuangzi therefore says: “A fine achievement requires a long accumulation of effort.”