《道德真经论(司马光)》

Sima Qian said that Laozi wrote two sections, an upper and a lower, to explain the meanings of the Dao (the Way) and De (Virtue/Power). Later generations, taking their cue from the opening words of each section, called the upper part the Dao Jing and the lower part the De Jing. Because the Dao and De are originally connected and cannot be treated from only one side, the original title Dao De Jing is retained here.

Chapter One

The Dao can be spoken, yet the spoken Dao is not the constant, unchanging Dao; names can be used to designate things, yet the names so given are not the constant, unchanging names.

People in the world who discuss the Dao all say that its essence is subtle, mysterious, and remote, beyond expression in language. Laozi holds that this is not so: the Dao can indeed be spoken of in words, though it is not the kind of Dao ordinary people talk about. Names, too, may be used, however provisionally, to designate things, though they are not the names ordinary people understand.

The Dao of which ordinary people speak is usually confined to concrete objects; the names they employ tend to be overly particular, fragmented, and entangled.

The state without form or name is the beginning of heaven and earth; the state that has form and name is the source from which the ten thousand things arise.

Heaven and earth are the greatest among things that possess form, and their beginning must come from the formless, so “non-being” is called the beginning of heaven and earth. The ten thousand things generate one another by means of their physical forms, and this generation must rest upon “being,” so “being” is called the origin of the ten thousand things.

To remain constantly in the contemplation of non-being is to perceive the subtlety of the Dao; to remain constantly in the contemplation of being is to examine the boundaries and manifestations of things.

“Jiao” means boundary or limit. Since the myriad things already exist, “wu” (nothingness) would seem to have no particular use. Yet the sage always preserves “wu” and never discards it, in order to inquire into the subtle and profound principles amid marvelous transformations. Since “wu” is valuable, “you” (being) would likewise seem to have no particular use. Yet the sage always preserves “you” and never discards it, in order to set boundaries for all things. If one were to speak only of “wu” and abandon “you,” everything would become vacant and unrestrained, with no boundaries remaining. This is the meaning of the saying “being is taken as benefit, nothingness as use”: being provides convenience, while nothingness performs its function.

These two issue from the same origin and differ only in name; both may be termed “xuan” (the profound and mysterious). Within the profound there is a still deeper profundity, which is the gateway to all wonders.

“Xuan” denotes that which is neither being nor non-being, the utmost extreme of subtlety.

Chapter Two

All under heaven know that by which beauty is beautiful, and ugliness thereby appears; all know that by which goodness is good, and what is not good thereby appears.

Once beauty and goodness possess clear criteria that become familiar to everyone, they cease to be the utmost of beauty and goodness.

Thus being and non-being produce each other, difficulty and ease complete each other, long and short are compared with each other, high and low depend upon each other, tone and voice respond to each other, front and back follow each other.

Whatever possesses form and traces cannot be wholly identical. Mutual difference readily invites contention; contention brings disorder; disorder drives matters into impasse. Therefore the sage does not prize these distinctions.

Hence the sage conducts affairs in the spirit of Wuwei (non-action)—neither acting willfully nor intervening by force.

He applies his wisdom in the manner of Yu the Great’s flood control: following the water’s own tendency, he dredges so that the water flows of itself, without adding extra obstacles.

He practices teaching that uses no words.

His own person being upright, affairs proceed even without commands being issued.

When the myriad things arise and grow, he does not decline them.

When something is stirred within the mind, things need not immediately appear; when things present themselves, he accords with them and does not refuse or push them aside.

He brings the myriad things to life and nurtures them, yet does not claim them as his own.

He acts, yet does not rest upon his merit.

The sage cannot remain entirely inactive with respect to the world. When the myriad things arise and grow, he does not decline them.

When something is stirred within the mind, things need not immediately appear; when things present themselves, he accords with them and does not refuse or push them aside.

He brings the myriad things to life and nurtures them, yet does not claim them as his own.

The sage cannot remain completely inactive toward the affairs of the world; he simply does not regard what he has done as his own merit, nor does he rely on it to display his abilities. When things are accomplished, he does not claim the credit or become self-satisfied. Precisely because he does not claim the credit, the achievements do not leave him. As long as you do not boast, no one in the world can compete with you in ability; as long as you do not glorify yourself, no one in the world can compete with you for credit.

Chapter Three

Not exalting the fame of the worthy and able can keep the people from competing with one another. Of course the worthy and able must be respected; this is a principle everyone understands. Yet when the custom of honoring worthiness develops to its later stages, the drawback is that people chase after reputation, which instead deepens the chaos. Therefore Laozi puts forward the opposite view, wishing people to value genuine De (Virtue/Power) rather than empty names.

Not regarding rare and hard-to-obtain goods as precious can keep the people from stealing; not displaying things sufficient to arouse desire can keep people’s hearts from being disturbed. Therefore the sage, in governing the world, makes the people’s inner hearts empty and clear, without generating greedy desires for profit; lets them eat their fill; prevents them from contending recklessly; and keeps their bodies strong and healthy so they can work with full effort. He constantly reduces the people’s cunning thoughts and excessive desires, allowing them to eat deliciously and dress comfortably without pursuing other cravings besides these, settling their minds so they dare not contend, and keeping their bodies robust so they can exert themselves in their work.

In this way, even if there are intelligent and clever people, they will not dare to act arbitrarily by means of their tricks, and the multitude will not respond by competing. Governing according to the principle of Wuwei (non-action), there is nothing in the world that cannot be well governed. Action is taken with the purpose of ultimately arriving at Wuwei.

Chapter Four

The Dao (the Way), the fundamental law according to which all things operate, is empty and formless yet able to function, seeming never to be filled. It is profound and unfathomable, as if it were the origin of all things. The Dao is unfathomably deep and often becomes the master of all things. The Dao blunts the sharp edges because fully displayed sharpness is what the Dao detests. The Dao resolves disorders because complexity and chaos are what the Dao despises. The Dao conceals its radiance because excessive brilliance is what the Dao looks down upon. The Dao mixes with the dusty world because willingly occupying a lowly position is what the Dao values. The Dao is deep, still, and quiet, seeming to exist yet remaining elusive. I do not know where the Dao comes from; I only feel that its form precedes the Heavenly Emperor.

Heaven and Earth show no partiality toward any particular thing, treating the myriad things as straw dogs prepared for sacrifice. Ritual straw dogs are valued before they are used and discarded once the ceremony is over. Heaven gives life to and nourishes the myriad things, then, once they have served their purpose, allows them to wither and perish; this may appear unkind.

The sage likewise shows no favoritism toward anyone, regarding the people as sacrificial straw dogs. Is the space between Heaven and Earth not like a bellows or the pipe-holes of a musical instrument? It is empty within, yet never exhausted; the more it is activated, the more Qi (vital energy) continuously issues forth.

The interiors of the bellows and the pipe-holes are utterly empty and without personal attachment, so they remain empty and cannot be used up; when they are set in motion they do not run dry.

Speaking too much often leads quickly to difficulty; it is better to abide in inner emptiness and stillness.

If one can sincerely maintain this emptiness and stillness, even without many words, others will be convinced.

Chapter Six

The “Valley Spirit” never perishes.

A valley is empty within, and is therefore called a “valley”; it is deep and unfathomable, and is therefore called “spirit” (Shen). Heaven and Earth have an end, but the Dao (the Way) is inexhaustible, so it is said that it never perishes.

This is called the “Mysterious Female.”

“Xuan” means subtle and profound; “pin” refers to the female and also symbolizes the maternal womb of the myriad things.

The gateway of the Mysterious Female is the root-origin of Heaven and Earth.

Heaven, Earth, and the myriad things are generated from it.

It extends without interruption, seeming both present and absent; its functioning is everywhere, yet it never appears to toil.

Chapter Seven

Heaven lasts long and Earth endures. The reason Heaven and Earth can last so long is that they do not live for themselves alone; thus they are able to last long.

Every living being possessed of blood and Qi (vital energy) busies itself seeking its own survival; only Heaven and Earth engage in Wuwei (non-action) and yet naturally endure.

Therefore the sage places himself behind others and thereby comes to stand in front of them; he puts himself outside himself and thereby preserves himself.

This is not something achieved by deliberate effort.

Is it not precisely because the sage has no selfish heart that he fulfills himself?

The private interests sought by ordinary people are small, while those pursued by the sage are great. Taken to the extreme of smallness they drive father and son apart, so that one cannot even preserve oneself; taken to the extreme of greatness they can bring even the barbarian tribes into submission, allowing one to enjoy blessings and fortune for generations.

Chapter Eight

The highest good is like water. Water nourishes the myriad things yet does not contend with them; it abides in the low-lying places that people all detest. People detest what is lowly, so the character of water approaches the Dao (the Way).

The Dao cannot be seen or touched, whereas water is a concrete, tangible existence; therefore one can only say that water “approaches” the Dao.

In dwelling one should, like water, be content with low places in order to preserve oneself. The heart-mind should be as still and profound as deep water, skilled at observation. In treating others one should be as kind and generous as water that moistens all things; in speaking one should be sincere, allowing true feelings to appear without concealment. In governing one should be adept at putting things in order, as if washing away filth; in handling affairs one should possess the capacity to arrange them properly according to their different natures. In action one should seize the opportune moment and accord with the changing circumstances of the times.

Only by not contending with others will one avoid inviting resentment. Contention is merely a secondary aspect of handling matters; when one does not contend with the myriad things, no one harbors resentment, so how could there be any fault? Therefore this chapter especially praises non-contention.

Chapter Nine

To become self-satisfied by relying on power, position, talent, or virtuous conduct is not as good as stopping at the appropriate point. An object polished to excessive sharpness cannot be maintained for long. Probing the thoughts of others and striving determinedly for personal advancement often results in the end in losing what one has gained.

Even when gold and jade fill the house, no one can succeed in guarding them; after attaining wealth and honor, arrogance and pride invite disaster upon oneself. Once meritorious achievement is complete and fame attained, one ought to withdraw and retire; this is the natural pattern. The four seasons revolve in turn; after things have fulfilled their function they likewise shift.

Chapter Ten

Can one cause Shen (spirit) and physical form to unite, holding fast to the Dao without allowing them to separate? Can one concentrate Jing (essence) and Qi (vital energy), bringing the body to a state of softness as tender as an infant? Can one cleanse the mind and clarify inner observation so that no blemish remains? Can one love the people and govern the state by means of Wuwei (non-action)?

Can those skilled in cherishing the people allow them to live according to their own natural course? Can one concentrate Jing (essence) and Qi (vital energy) so that body and mind become supple, like an infant? Can one wash the mind clean of stray thoughts and achieve a state without the slightest blemish? In cherishing the people and governing the state, can one succeed through Wuwei (non-action)?

Those skilled in cherishing the people let them grow of themselves, bringing them to completion without doing them harm. Those skilled in governing the state allow the ten thousand things each to exercise their own capacities, so that affairs are accomplished without laborious management.

When the gates of heaven open and close, can one remain soft and still, holding to the feminine? When one is intelligent, penetrating, and knows all things, can one refrain from relying on that intelligence?

Those who possess intelligence and talent should hold to it with an attitude of rustic simplicity and not-knowing.

To let the ten thousand things grow and to nourish them, yet not to possess them; to act, yet not to rely on one’s merit; to bring them to maturity, yet not to dominate them—this is called “Mysterious De (Virtue/Power)” (profound and natural virtuous conduct).

“To preside” means the people know only that a ruler exists, yet feel none of his intervention; “to control” means exercising restraint and cutting restrictions upon the people.

Chapter 11

Thirty spokes gather at a single hub; the hub is empty at the center, and it is precisely because of this empty space that the cart is of use.

The hub, by means of the empty space at its center, receives the axle and is thus able to unify the many spokes with the few.

Clay is kneaded to form a vessel; it is precisely because the vessel is empty at the center that it has the use of a vessel.

“Yan” means to knead and mix; “zhi” means clay.

Doors and windows are cut to make a house; it is precisely because the interior is empty that it has the use of a house. Thus what has form brings convenience, while the formless empty space allows it to function.

When ritual develops to the point of no longer clinging to external forms, when music develops to the point of no longer relying on external sounds, when punishment develops to the point of needing no application of penalties—only then does the function of the Dao (the Way) become apparent.

Chapter 12

The five colors dazzle the eyes; the five tones dull the hearing; the five flavors disorder the palate.

“Shuang” means to become disordered.

Galloping on horseback in the hunt throws the heart-mind and spirit into frenzy; rare and precious goods obstruct a person’s conduct.

All of these use external things to injure the inner heart-mind.

Therefore the sage values inner fullness and does not pursue sensory enjoyment.

“Shuang” means to become disordered.

Galloping on horseback in the hunt throws the heart-mind and spirit into frenzy; rare and precious goods obstruct a person’s conduct.

All of these use external things to injure the inner heart-mind.

Therefore the sage attends to what is needed in the belly and is not drawn by the desires before the eyes, and so discards outer enticements and chooses inner fullness.

“The belly” refers to inner holding and preservation; “the eyes” refer to chasing outward and coveting.

Chapter 13

To receive favor or to suffer insult is in both cases like being startled; to value honor and disgrace that lie outside the self is like valuing one’s own body. What is meant by “favor and disgrace”? One who receives favor occupies a lowly station; when obtaining favor one feels frightened, and when losing favor one also feels frightened—this is called “favor and disgrace are like being startled.”

Gentlemen should regard the Dao (the Way) and De (Virtue/Power) as more important than noble ranks and official salaries. The Dao and De bring glory, while ranks and salaries may instead bring disgrace. The multitude, however, particularly value this disgrace: they tremble with anxiety when they obtain ranks and salaries, and they grieve without end when they lose them.

How is one to understand “regarding great trouble as one regards one’s own person”? The reason I have great trouble is that I possess a body; if I had no body, great trouble would have nowhere from which to arise. Possessing a body means having entanglements; if one can refrain from clinging to the self and instead follow what is natural, what worry would remain?

Beautiful colors, sounds, flavors, and material goods are all great troubles incurred by the body. The multitude regard these as even more important than their own persons because they pursue external objects exclusively and forget the inner life. Only one who values his own person more than the world can have the world entrusted to him; only one who treasures the world as he treasures his own person can be allowed to take charge of the world.

One who treasures the world is in turn respected by the world; one who loves and protects the world is in turn loved and protected by the world. The sage treasures and loves the world, which is also to treasure and love his own person. When this is accomplished, a heavy responsibility can be entrusted to him, and he will certainly be able to safeguard it well.

Chapter Fourteen

Looked at but not seen, it is called “yi” (colorless); listened to but not heard, it is called “xi” (soundless); grasped at but not obtained, it is called “wei” (formless). These three cannot be scrutinized in detail, and so they merge into one, all returning to the formless.

Its upper aspect is not bright, its lower aspect is not dark. The Dao moves upward, generating and transforming the myriad things, yet it cannot be seen; the Dao moves downward, the myriad things return to quietude, yet they have never perished.

It continues without interruption, difficult to put into words, and thus still returns to oneness. It stretches on endlessly and cannot be named.

It appears continuous and unending, elusive and hard to grasp. “Being” and “non-being” are merely names provisionally assigned.

The myriad things ultimately return to “no-thing.” This is called “the form of the formless, the image of the imageless” (a condition without fixed shape or concrete appearance).

If one says it is “non-being,” yet the myriad things are generated from it; if one says it is “being,” yet its form cannot be seen.

This state without concrete image is called “huhuang” (vague, indistinct, and difficult to grasp).

It seems both to exist and not to exist.

Approaching it, one cannot see its beginning, and so it is said to have no start;

examining it, one cannot see its end, and so it is said to have no finish.

Grasp the Dao (the Way) that has existed from ancient times and use it to govern present affairs.

The Dao from ancient times is “non-being.”

To recognize the original source of the myriad things is to grasp the guiding principle of the Dao. The Dao takes “non-being” as its fundamental standard.

Chapter 15

Those in ancient times who were skilled at cultivating the Dao were subtle and mysterious, penetrating and far-reaching, so that people could not fathom them. Precisely because they were so hard to know, one can only describe their appearance with difficulty—here we can speak only of their outward manifestations.

They were cautious, like one fording a river in winter; alert, as if wary of being watched from all sides; dignified and reserved, like a guest; unfolding, like ice about to melt; honest and simple, like uncarved wood; open, like a valley; mixed and unadorned, remaining quietly alone without mixing with the crowd.

The outward demeanor of those who possess the Dao is roughly of this kind.

Who can make turbid water become still and gradually turn clear? Who can make a state of stability persist and gradually reveal vitality? Those who maintain this Dao do not seek to be filled to overflowing. Precisely because they are not self-satisfied, what has already declined can be accomplished anew.

Humility is able to bring benefit to people.

Chapter 16

Bring the emptiness and stillness of the inner heart to the utmost and firmly hold to clarity and quietude. The myriad things grow and transform together, and from this I observe how they return to their origin.

The movements of the myriad things ultimately all return to stillness.

The myriad things grow and change in profusion, and in the end each returns to its root.

Things arise from “non-being” and ultimately return to “non-being.” Returning to the root is stillness; once still, they return to the original nature of life. When things become quiet, they accord with the mandate of Heaven.

Returning to original nature is called the “constant.” No one can go against the Dao of Heaven.

To know the constant Dao is called brightness. In acting and in holding to stillness, one does not miss the proper timing.

Not knowing the constant Dao and acting willfully will bring about misfortune.

Acting against the principles of Heaven.

One who understands the constant Dao (the Way; the unchanging, eternal pattern) can embrace all things. With an inner mind empty and still, there is nothing that cannot be contained. Only by being able to contain can one be just, impartial, and free of bias or partisanship. Only through such impartiality can one become a king to whom the people turn. Becoming such a king, one then accords with Heaven and shares Heaven’s De (Virtue/Power). Heaven takes the Dao as its model; the Dao endures without end and without bound. If a person can be like this, they will meet no danger throughout life.

When the inner mind is vacant, one does not go against or reject things; when the inner mind is tranquil, one is not invaded by external objects—what danger, then, could remain?

Chapter Seventeen

The best rulers are those of whom the people merely know that they exist; the people feel no force being applied and do not even realize that the merit belongs to the ruler.

The next best are those whom the people draw close to and praise; this already shows that traces of their governing have become visible.

The next after that are those whom the people fear; they rely on force and majesty to compel obedience.

The worst are those whom the people despise; both the ruler’s majesty and De have already been lost.

When the ruler’s sincerity is insufficient, the people will not trust him. A ruler should speak with caution and refrain as much as possible from issuing orders lightly. If one is always intent on making one’s words perfectly complete, one may not actually succeed.

When the work is accomplished and the enterprise completed, the people say, “We did this ourselves, naturally.” They labor at sunrise and rest at sunset, dig wells to drink, and till the fields to harvest grain.

Chapter Eighteen

After the great Dao has been abandoned, benevolence and righteousness become apparent. The Dao originally contained benevolence and righteousness within itself and practiced them with sincerity, yet without deliberately displaying them. When the Dao is in operation, benevolence and righteousness remain inconspicuous; when the Dao declines and is abandoned, they stand out especially.

After cunning wisdom arises, a great deal of hypocrisy appears; petty people, under the name of doing good, secretly do evil.

Only when relations among fathers and sons, brothers, and other kin are not harmonious does one especially advocate filial piety and parental kindness; only when the state is in chaos do loyal ministers come to be highlighted.

The six relations refer to those between father and son, brothers, and husband and wife. If the six relations are naturally harmonious, the state can stabilize of its own accord. Then virtues such as filial piety, compassion, and loyalty no longer appear especially scarce, and it becomes hard to point out exactly where they are manifested. Fish in the rivers and lakes do not forget one another, and only then is there the kindness of moistening each other and helping by spitting foam; this means that when people originally live in peace and stability, instances of mutual assistance among them are not conspicuous.

Chapter 19

Cast aside the titles of sages and the knowledge of clever schemes, and the common people will instead receive a hundredfold benefit.

Sagacity and wisdom were originally meant to benefit the people; but as they passed down to later generations, some might use the name of sagacity and wisdom to harm the people, which is why Laozi offered this corrective teaching.

Cast aside deliberately advertised benevolence and righteousness, and the people can restore filial piety and compassion.

Filial piety and compassion are the root of benevolence and righteousness.

Abandon opportunistic cleverness and the pursuit of profit, and thieves will not appear.

Cleverly seeking the people’s benefit was originally the intent of sagacity and wisdom; yet thieves steal this clever wisdom to pursue private gain.

These three, if treated merely as surface writing, are still insufficient to solve the problems, so they must be given a place of belonging.

“Belonging” means a place of return and reliance. Sagacity and wisdom, benevolence and righteousness, and clever profit were originally good ways esteemed by the ancients; later generations, however, treat them only as decorative rhetoric for appearances, lacking sincerity in the heart. Therefore these names must be implemented at their roots, lest only reputation remain while substance is lost.

See the unadorned: maintain the sincere and natural original nature.

Embrace the simple: hold fast to the fundamental of unadorned simplicity.

Lessen selfishness: reduce private thoughts and achieve selflessness.

Reduce desires: diminish desires without one-sided pursuit.

Chapter 20

Cast aside the obsession with one-sidedly pursuing learning, and one can be free from anxiety.

Learning cannot stop because people hope thereby to seek the Dao (the Way). If one abandons the root and chases the branches, ultimately toiling without result, then it is better not to learn, so as not to add worries in vain.

How great, after all, is the difference between the respectful reply of “wei” and the casual reply of “a”? How much difference can there be between so-called good and evil? As for the things the people of the world fear, one cannot but have some fear of them.

Only through humility can one be regarded as respectful; responding casually and with a negligent attitude will be seen as slighting. In the view of those who possess the Dao (the Way), respect and slighting, good and evil, ultimately all return to “nothingness,” and there is little difference between them. Yet respect brings joy to others, while slighting provokes anger; performing good deeds brings blessings, while doing evil invites misfortune. When anger accumulates, misfortune descends and may even endanger oneself, so one cannot but feel some fear. Since everyone does this, how dare I not do likewise?

The great Dao is vast and boundless, stretching on without end!

Respect and doing good are merely minor actions; I provisionally employ them to avoid harm, and they are not yet sufficient to be called the great Dao. The great Dao is vast and profound, beyond measure.

The multitude is high-spirited and joyful, as if attending a lavish banquet, or as if ascending a high terrace on a spring day.

They take pleasure in external things.

Only I appear anxious and uneasy, as if no signs have yet manifested, like an infant who has not yet learned to smile.

“Hai” refers to a child’s laughter. The great Dao is vast and profound, beyond measure.

The multitude is high-spirited and joyful, as if attending a lavish banquet, or as if ascending a high terrace on a spring day.

They take pleasure in external things.

Only I appear anxious and uneasy, as if no signs have yet manifested, like an infant who has not yet learned to smile.

“Hai” means a child’s laughter.

I am leisurely and at ease, as if I have no fixed place of return. The multitude all have surplus,

single-mindedly pursuing more acquisitions.

Only I seem to have lost everything,

not occupying external things.

My mind is truly like that of a fool, simple and unadulterated. Worldly people are perceptive and astute; only I appear dim and confused. Worldly people are meticulous and exacting; only I am dull and sluggish. I am so vague as if in gloom, so drifting as if I have nowhere to rest. Everyone considers themselves right; only I appear obstinate and crude. I differ from the multitude; what I cherish is the “Mother” that nurtures all things.

The “Mother” refers to “Yuanhe,” that is, the root that generates, transforms, and nourishes all things; I receive nourishment from it.

End of Volume One of the Daode Zhenjing Lun

Sima’s Commentary

Chapter 21

The manifestation of great De (Virtue/Power) completely follows the Dao. This existence of the Dao is vague and elusive, ungraspable. Amid the vagueness there is yet image; in the profound darkness there is yet the subtle Jing (essence). That Jing truly exists, and within it there is also reliable evidence.

Here “xin” means that which can be verified. These are all the so-called “form without a fixed form.”

From antiquity to the present the name of the Dao has never vanished, and by means of it one can know the origin of all things. How do I know that the origin of all things is thus? Precisely by means of the Dao.

Chapter 22

To yield is instead able to preserve,

those who are invariably stiff and self-assertive rarely escape injury and breakage.

To bend is instead able to straighten, …

Even though the roads are winding, when heading toward the various Xia (the states of the Central Plains), one must still follow the roads forward. Even though the rivers meander, when heading toward the sea, one must still follow their channels.

Chapter Twenty-Two

To yield and be bent is instead to preserve oneself. People of a stubborn nature who always act in a straightforward and unyielding manner rarely escape injury. Having endured being bent, one can instead attain unfolding and extension. Even though the roads are winding, when heading toward the various Xia one must still follow the roads; even though the rivers meander, when heading toward the sea one must still follow their channels. Low-lying places can instead become full. When water comes to rest, deep pools accumulate; when the branches of trees wither and fall, the trunk can be preserved; when mountains are eroded and grow thin, lakes and marshes thereby increase in volume. After becoming worn, one can instead be renewed. Wearing brocade garments yet holding bronze vessels in high esteem. Taking little instead brings gain; greed for much instead easily leads to confusion. Therefore the sage holds to “the One of the Dao (the Way)” (the fundamental principle of remaining specialized and unmixed), taking it as the model for all under heaven. “One” means reducing to the utmost extreme and returning to focused unity. Not deliberately displaying oneself, therefore one instead sees clearly; by according with the times, one’s reputation naturally grows ever more prominent. Not regarding oneself as always right, therefore one instead becomes distinguished; by examining the views of the many, setting aside one’s own preconceptions and heeding others. Not boasting of oneself, therefore one instead has merit; not being self-conceited, therefore one instead endures. Merit and fame can thus be preserved for a long time. Precisely because one does not contend with others, no one under heaven can contend with him. What the ancients said about “being bent is instead to preserve”—is that empty talk? It is indeed so: if a person can preserve himself, he will in the end return to the Dao. Throughout life one will never fall into danger.

Not being self-conceited, therefore one instead endures. Merit and fame can thus be preserved for a long time. Precisely because one does not contend with others, no one under heaven can contend with him. What the ancients said about “being bent is instead to preserve”—is that empty talk? It is indeed so: if a person can preserve himself, he will in the end return to the Dao. Throughout life one will never fall into danger.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Speaking little accords with nature. Those who truly understand the Dao need not speak at length; others naturally comprehend, so this is said to be in accordance with nature. A violent wind does not last a whole morning, a torrential rain does not last an entire day. Who produces these phenomena? Heaven and Earth. Even the intense changes produced by Heaven and Earth cannot persist, how much less so for human beings? An impatient person talks a great deal and will certainly find it difficult to remain settled in holding to the Dao. Therefore those who devote themselves to the Dao become joined with the Dao; those who devote themselves to De (Virtue/Power) become joined with De; those who lose the Dao and De also become joined with the state of having lost them. These outcomes are all self-invited. Joining with the Dao, the Dao in turn receives him; joining with De, De in turn receives him; joining with the loss of the Dao, the consequences of losing the Dao also befall him. These are all natural and spontaneous responses. When sincerity is insufficient, others will not trust him. This is because in speaking he places too much weight on the words themselves and cannot keep faith.

Chapter Twenty-Four

One who stands on tiptoe cannot stand firmly; one who takes overly large strides cannot walk far.

Once the mind has a bias, it cannot attend equally to every aspect. Therefore those who display themselves cannot see the principles of things clearly, those who regard themselves as always right never become prominent, those who boast of themselves possess no real merit, and those who are arrogant cannot last long. All these practices contend for victory on the outside while incurring loss within.

From the standpoint of the Dao (the Way), such conduct resembles leftover food and superfluous tumors (unnecessary protrusions on the body). People commonly detest them, and so those who possess the Dao do not act in this manner.

Leftover food from a grand banquet, however delicious it may originally have been, becomes filthy. A person who already has merit yet still boasts of himself is like one who grows extra tumors on the body. “People detest it” can equally be understood as “people will attack it.”

Chapter 25

There is an existence that forms an undifferentiated whole, born before Heaven and Earth. It is blended and complete in itself, silent and empty, standing independently without change; nothing can rival it, and therefore it is called “independent.” Its transformations never lose the constant Dao, and therefore it is called “unchanging.”

It circulates and operates, reaching everywhere without ever falling into peril, and thus it can serve as the origin of Heaven, Earth, and the myriad things.

I do not know what it was originally named. A name would delimit the form of a thing, yet this existence is formless and undifferentiated, unable to be bounded by any designation. Therefore I reluctantly call it “Dao,” and also reluctantly call it “great.” Being great, it operates; operating, it reaches far; reaching far, it returns. Hence the Dao is great, Heaven is great, Earth is great, and the king is also great. Between Heaven and Earth there are four “greats,” and the king is one of them. A wise king ought not to grow proud by virtue of his position.

Human beings take Earth as their model, Earth takes Heaven as its model, Heaven takes the Dao as its model, and the Dao takes nature (the state of being so of itself) as its model.

Chapter 26

Heaviness is the root of lightness, and stillness is the master of restlessness. Therefore the gentleman travels throughout the day without leaving his baggage wagons (the vehicles that carry supplies on a journey). One must take heaviness and stillness as the foundation.

Even when magnificent landscapes appear, the gentleman can dwell among them in peace, preserving a detached state of mind.

Do not take it to heart.

How can those who serve as rulers of a great state instead look down upon the world and treat themselves lightly? Treating things lightly leads to the loss of one’s ministers; restlessness and impatience lead to the loss of the throne.

When the ruler is light and restless, the ministers will not revere him; when the ministers are light and restless, the ruler will look down upon them.

Chapter 27

Those skilled at walking leave no ruts or footprints; those skilled at speaking make no faults in their words; those skilled at planning know the inevitable outcome of affairs without using counting tools.

Those skilled at shutting a door need no bolt, yet the door cannot be opened; those skilled at binding need no ropes, yet no one can untie them.

The stability of the state does not rely on the strategic hazards of mountains and rivers; governing the people does not rely on the restrictions of territorial boundaries.

Therefore the sage is always skilled at rescuing people, so there are none who are abandoned; always skilled at making use of all things, so there is nothing that is discarded. This is called inheriting the luminous Dao (the Way). The good person is the teacher of those who are not good, and those who are not good can also serve as a reference for the good. If one neither respects the teacher nor cherishes the reference, even if one considers oneself intelligent, one will fall into great confusion. This is an important and subtle principle.

Chapter 28

Knowing what is firm and strong, yet abiding in the soft and weak; having strength, yet not using it readily. In this way one can become the stream of the world, dwelling in the low place so that the multitude turns toward oneself. The constant De (Virtue/Power) will not depart, and one finally returns to the infant-like state of simplicity. By following De one can return to the Dao.

Knowing what is bright, yet abiding in the obscure; brightness symbolizes purity, obscurity symbolizes turbidity. In this way one can become the model of the world. The constant De will not deviate, and one finally returns to the Limitless (a state without bounds or limitations).

Knowing what is glory, yet abiding in humiliation, in this way one can become the valley of the world. Becoming the valley of the world, the constant De will be ample, and one finally returns to the original simple nature.

When the simple undifferentiated thing is divided, it becomes various implements; the sage employs these implements and lets each become the one in charge of affairs. Talent revealed outwardly is like implements, each with different uses; the sage, according to each person’s talent, appoints them as chiefs of various offices.

Therefore those skilled at governing the world do not split the whole apart, but accord with the original nature of things.

Chapter 29

Those who wish to take the world and govern it by force, I see that they will ultimately not succeed. The world is a sacred thing that cannot be forcibly acted upon. Forcible action leads to failure; insistence on grasping leads to loss.

Forcing action harms the natural condition of things; clinging obstinately violates the principle of change and unhindered flow.

Thus some things go ahead while others follow; some take shape as if formed by a potter, others scatter as if blown by the wind; some are strong, others weak; some achieve success, others fall. “Zai” means to accomplish. These are all states that things naturally possess.

Therefore the sage discards extremes, extravagance, and excess, simply allowing the myriad things to follow their own nature.

Chapter 30

One who assists a ruler by means of the Dao (the Way) does not rely on military force to dominate the world, for such actions tend to invite retribution. When things reach their extreme they reverse, and so it is said they readily bring about their own reversal.

Where armies have encamped, thorns and brambles grow thick; after a great war, years of famine often follow. Military force is an ominous instrument.

Those skilled in the use of arms achieve their purpose and then stop, not daring to press on and display their strength. “Guo” means to complete the affair; once the work is accomplished, one ought to cease.

They succeed without boasting, without pride, without ostentation; they take up arms only when there is no alternative. They do so because they do not press others with force. When something reaches the height of its strength it grows old; this is called not being in accord with the Dao. What is not in accord with the Dao soon perishes. From this it is clear that the display of force cannot endure.

Chapter 31

Fine weapons are inauspicious things; the more excellent they are, the greater the harm they tend to cause. All creatures detest them, and therefore those who possess the Dao do not rely on them.

In ordinary times a gentleman honors the left; in time of war he honors the right. Weapons are inauspicious instruments, not the tools of a gentleman; he uses them only when he has no choice, and even then he regards calm restraint as best. He does not regard victory as a cause for glory. To take victory as something to celebrate is to take delight in killing. One who takes delight in killing cannot fulfill the aim of governing the world.

Auspicious rites honor the left; mourning rites honor the right. The deputy general stands on the left, the commander-in-chief on the right; this follows the arrangement of funeral ceremonies, showing that warfare is treated as a matter of mourning. When many have been killed, one should weep for them with a sorrowful heart; even a victory should be treated according to the rites of mourning.

This sentence is saying that war is inauspicious.

Chapter Thirty-Two

The Dao (the Way) never has a fixed name, and it cannot be designated by any particular thing.

The uncarved Pu (the essence of the Dao) appears small yet is incomparably noble, so that no one in the world dares to slight it or place themselves above it.

If lords and kings can hold fast to the Dao, the myriad things will naturally submit. When the Qi (vital energy) of heaven and earth combine, sweet dew will fall; the people, without being commanded, will naturally become settled and harmonious.

When lords and kings keep to the Dao, the myriad things will submit, the Qi of heaven and earth will also be in harmony, and the people will naturally be transformed.

When the myriad things begin to be made and used, names arise. After the sage attains the Dao, he too must make and employ things, and therefore cannot completely refrain from establishing names or speaking.

Once there are names, one must know when to stop. Knowing when to stop, one will not fall into danger.

Even when using names and teachings to guide the people, one should strive for simplicity and conciseness, and not allow various designations and regulations to proliferate endlessly.

The functioning of the Dao in the world is like streams flowing into rivers and seas.

Humanly established teachings, compared with the Dao, differ greatly in scale, yet in the end they too return to the Dao.

Chapter Thirty-Three

To know others is wisdom; to understand oneself is true clarity. To overcome others is strength; to be able to overcome oneself is true power. Understanding oneself and overcoming oneself are especially difficult.

One who knows contentment is a wealthy person.

One who can persist unremittingly in advancing has true aspiration. Holding fast to one's root allows longevity; having found a place to settle and establish one's life, the heart will be at peace.

When the body dies yet the Dao still endures, this is true longevity.

Chapter Thirty-Four

The Great Dao flows widely, present everywhere and unrestricted by any fixed direction.

The myriad things rely on the Dao to come into being, and the Dao never refuses them; all things receive nourishment from the Dao.

When affairs are accomplished, the Dao claims no credit; it nurtures the myriad things yet does not regard itself as their master. Because it constantly has no selfish desires, it can be said to be small and humble; the myriad things all attach themselves to it yet do not know it as their ruler, and thus it can also be said to be great. The sage never regards himself as great, and therefore is able to achieve greatness.

Chapter Thirty-Five

Grasping the overall principle of the Great Dao, the people of the world will turn toward it.

The form in which the Dao manifests is called “xiang” (the perceptible image of the Dao). The sage grasps the Great Dao and thereby governs the world.

Going throughout the world without causing harm enables the world to become stable, peaceful, and greatly tranquil.

This is accomplished without relying on deliberate action to injure the myriad things.

Music and fine foods are not the great Dao (the Way) by which the sage governs the world, so the sage never treats them as fundamental; precisely because of this, truly great affairs can instead be accomplished.

Chapter 35

Grasping the “Great Image” (the overall form in which the great Dao manifests), the people of the world will come and gather.

The form in which the great Dao appears is called “xiang.” The sage grasps the great Dao and thereby governs the world.

Going throughout the world without causing harm enables the world to become stable, peaceful, and greatly tranquil.

This is accomplished without relying on deliberate action to injure the myriad things.

Music and fine foods can make passing travelers stop in their tracks.

Ordinary people are easily entangled by external things and come to a standstill.

When the Dao is spoken, it is bland as if without flavor; looking at it, one sees nothing; listening to it, one hears nothing.

This differs from music and fine foods.

The functioning of the Dao is inexhaustible and cannot be treated as an enticing enjoyment.

It is empty yet never exhausted.

Chapter 36

If one wishes to contract something, one must first expand it; if one wishes to weaken it, one must first strengthen it; if one wishes to abolish it, one must first make it flourish; if one wishes to seize it, one must first give it. This is called “subtle illumination” (insight that appears from the minute).

Only by understanding subtle changes can one be said to possess true insight.

The soft and weak can overcome the hard and strong. Fish cannot leave the deep abyss; the sharp instruments of the state (important powers and means) cannot be lightly displayed to others.

Chapter 37

The Dao always follows what is natural and does not act willfully, yet there is nothing that cannot be accomplished. If lords and kings can hold fast to this principle, the myriad things will transform of themselves. After the myriad things have transformed, if desire arises once more and they begin to act willfully,

“Zuo” means acting willfully.

I will stabilize it with the “nameless uncarved block” (the simple Dao without human designations or ornamentation). The nameless uncarved block itself will not give rise to desire.

Forget these distinctions and attachments all together.

Without desire, remaining quiet, the world will of itself return to the correct path.

If lords and kings can hold fast to this principle, the myriad things will transform of themselves. After the myriad things have transformed, if desire arises once more and they begin to act willfully,

“Zuo” means acting willfully.

I will stabilize it with the nameless uncarved block. The nameless uncarved block itself will not give rise to desire.

Forget these distinctions and attachments all together.

Without desire, remaining quiet, the world will of itself return to the correct path.

End of Volume Two of the Daode Zhenjing Lun.

Volume Three of the Daode Zhenjing Lun

Commentary by Sima

Chapter 38

Those of superior De (Virtue/Power) do not deliberately claim to possess De, and therefore truly have De; they act with utmost sincerity yet do not regard themselves as displaying virtue. Those of inferior De are always unwilling to lose the reputation of “possessing De,” and therefore in reality have no true De.

They admire the reputation of De, follow practices that cater to that reputation, and deliberately pursue it.

Those of superior De act in accordance with nature and do not act with some purpose in mind.

“I practice Wuwei (non-action), and the common people transform and are nurtured of themselves.” Here “wu yi wei” means not relying on human artifice to act.

Those of inferior De (Virtue/Power) act with purpose and have a definite aim. If such virtue is not cultivated, it will decline.

Those of superior benevolence act without deliberately seeking anything, simply following the needs of the people and helping them obtain what is beneficial.

Those of superior righteousness act with a definite purpose, formulating regulations and putting them into effect.

Those of superior ritual, if others do not respond, roll up their sleeves and force them to accept. In other words, they establish institutions to restrain the people; if the people will not submit, they use punishments to overawe them. “Reng” means to lead or to tug; some versions write it as “reng.”

Therefore, only when the Dao (the Way) is lost does one begin to speak of De; the Dao is formless and without traces, and De likewise does not display its traces.

Only when De is lost does one begin to speak of benevolence, just as fish stranded in a dry place can only moisten each other by spitting a little foam.

Only when benevolence is lost does one begin to speak of righteousness. When kindness cannot win the willing submission of people's hearts, one must resort to cutting judgments and constraints.

Only when righteousness is lost does one begin to speak of ritual, which can only impose norms on external conduct.

Ritual is the manifestation of the decline of loyalty and good faith, and it is also the beginning of disorder. Loyalty and good faith are the root of ritual; if one merely adheres to the forms of ritual while forgetting its root, then artifice, deceit, and hypocrisy will appear in great numbers.

The so-called “foreknowledge” means to speculate in advance and predict the future. It is only the ostentatious surface of the Dao and is also the beginning of folly. Some people in the world repeatedly guess correctly, and others may call them clever; but if they always talk boastfully, there will eventually come a time when they cannot predict accurately, and they will still appear foolish.

Therefore the great man takes his stand on what is solid rather than on what is thin; he values what is real rather than pursuing what is ostentatious, and so he discards the ostentatious and takes the real.

Chapter 39

In ancient times, those who attained the “One” each found their own stability: Heaven attained the “One” and was clear; Earth attained the “One” and was at peace; spirits attained the “One” and were numinous; valleys attained the “One” and were full; the myriad things attained the “One” and grew; lords and kings attained the “One” and became the true rulers of the world. The root by which they each attained their respective conditions all lies in the “One.”

The “One” is the descendant of the Dao and also the ancestral foundation of the myriad things; therefore none of the myriad things fails to rely on it in order to be completed. In terms of how things appear, it causes all affairs to continue endlessly: Heaven is thereby clear, Earth is thereby at peace, spirits are thereby numinous, valleys are thereby full, the myriad things thereby grow, and lords and kings thereby become the true rulers of the world.

The “One” is the descendant of the Dao (the Way) and also the root of the myriad things, so that all things rely upon it for their completion. Considered in terms of the functioning of things, that which persists without cease is what is called the “One.”

If Heaven cannot maintain its clarity, it is to be feared that it will split apart; if Earth cannot maintain its tranquility, it is to be feared that it will quake; if the spirits cannot maintain their numinous efficacy, it is to be feared that they will vanish; if the valleys cannot maintain their fullness, it is to be feared that they will run dry; if the myriad things cannot grow, it is to be feared that they will perish; if lords and kings cannot maintain their honored and lofty stations, it is to be feared that they too will lose their power.

To depart from the root and lose the Dao is the result of failing to hold fast to constancy.

Therefore what is honored must take the lowly as its root, and high position must take the humble as its foundation. Thus lords and kings refer to themselves as “the orphaned,” “the solitary,” and “the unworthy” (humble designations indicating that their own De (Virtue/Power) is insufficient)—is this not precisely taking the lowly as the root? How could it be otherwise?

They dare not forget the root.

Therefore when a chariot is disassembled until its many parts each display their own names, there is no longer any “chariot.”

The wheels, spokes, axle and other components each have their names; once only these parts remain, there is no longer a complete chariot.

People do not wish to appear as precious as beautiful jade, nor as isolated and crude as a mere stone.

Chapter Forty

Reversal is the manner of the Dao’s movement;

one yin and one yang, this is called the Dao.

Softness and weakness is the manner in which the Dao exerts its function. The things of the world arise from “being,” and “being” arises from “non-being.”

Chapter Forty-One

When superior people hear of the Dao they diligently put it into practice; when middling people hear of the Dao they remember it for a time and then forget it again; when inferior people hear of the Dao they laugh aloud. If it were not laughed at by them, it would not be sufficient to be called the Dao.

The uncommon Dao was never something ordinary people could all comprehend.

Therefore when the ancients established their sayings they put it this way:

The bright Dao appears as if obscure, the advancing Dao appears as if retreating, the level Dao appears as if rugged.

“Lei” refers to the knots in a silk thread.

The highest De is like a valley, empty and receptive; the whitest thing appears as if soiled; the vast De seems as if incomplete; the vigorous De appears as if slack; the simple and upright appears as if changed. The greatest square has no corners, the greatest vessel is often completed last, the greatest sound is nearly inaudible, the greatest form cannot be seen. The Dao is deeply hidden and without a fixed name. Only the Dao is skilled at bestowing strength upon the myriad things and bringing them to fulfillment. The myriad things rely upon the Dao to come into being yet cannot take the Dao as their private possession, and therefore it is said that the Dao is in the act of “giving.”

Chapter Forty-Two

The Dao gives birth to the “One”—that is, from non-being to being.

The “One” gives birth to the “Two”—thereby differentiating into Yin-Yang.

Yin and Yang, the two forces, combine and are then harmonized by a centered, balanced, and peaceful Qi (vital energy), thereby forming a third state; from this the myriad things arise. The myriad things turn their backs toward Yin and face toward Yang, and the blending Qi of Yin and Yang enables each to take form and maintain its own harmony.

Here, “负” means turning the back; “抱” means facing toward. Yin and Yang are the foundation of the myriad things, while the blending and harmonizing Qi (vital energy) exerts its function, allowing the myriad things to be generated and to operate.

People commonly regard “orphan,” “widower,” and “unworthy” (humble terms of self-address meaning “not good”) as undesirable appellations, yet princes and dukes use these words to refer to themselves. Thus, things sometimes benefit from diminution and sometimes suffer from increase. Complacency invites loss, while humility brings benefit; all of this serves to remove excess and return to a state of moderation and harmony.

The principles taught by others I also teach: “Those who are violent and overbearing will not meet a good end.” I take this statement as the root of instructing the people.

Chapter 43

The most yielding thing under heaven can make its way through the hardest thing under heaven. For instance, the flowing water on Mount Tai can, over a long time, pierce through stone.

That which has no form and leaves no trace can enter where there are no gaps. From this I come to know the benefit of Wuwei (non-action). However fine a form may be, none is finer than a mote of dust, yet even dust cannot enter an object without interstices; only the formless and traceless can enter where there is no space.

The benefits of teaching without words and of Wuwei (non-action) are achieved by few under heaven. Those who truly understand them are likewise few.

Chapter 44

Fame and life, which is dearer? Life and goods, which is more important? Gain and loss, which is more harmful?

Gaining fame and goods yet losing life, compared with preserving life yet losing fame and goods—which of these two results is more harmful?

Therefore, excessive love of fame and profit must exact a heavy price; excessive hoarding and accumulation must bring great loss. Knowing sufficiency, one incurs no disgrace; knowing when to stop, one encounters no danger, and thereby one can last long.

What is complete appears as if it were lacking, yet its actual function never fails; what is full and abundant appears as if it were empty, yet its actual function never runs dry.

When things reach their peak they often turn toward ruin; when filled too full they often overflow—this is the constant principle. One who has attained the Dao (the Way), even when achievement is complete, still seems to have some lack; even when full and abundant, still seems to leave some emptiness. Thus his function never fails and never comes to an end.

The most upright appears outwardly as if bent; the most skillful appears outwardly as if clumsy; the most eloquent appears outwardly as if inarticulate.

Restless movement overcomes cold, so one should be active. Quietude overcomes heat, so one should practice Wuwei (non-action). Clarity, stillness, and Wuwei constitute the correct Dao of the world. Only by maintaining emptiness and stillness can one observe the myriad things.

Chapter 46

When the world possesses the Dao, warhorses are retired to plow the fields and haul manure.

Without greedy seeking there is no contention; one nourishes the inner heart while also cultivating the self.

When the world lacks the Dao, warhorses are born in the open countryside.

When greedy desire remains unsatisfied, outward competition follows.

No crime is greater than indulging greedy desire. Ordinary people originally have no offense, yet they invite disaster by harboring precious jade. No misfortune is greater than not knowing contentment; no error is greater than insatiable greed. Therefore only by knowing contentment can one always be satisfied.

Chapter 47

Without leaving the house one can know the world; without peering through the window one can understand the Heavenly Dao (the fundamental principle of the operation of heaven and earth). This is because the root of things has been grasped.

The farther one departs from the root, the less one knows; this is the result of abandoning the fundamental to chase after the peripheral.

Thus the sage need not travel in order to understand principles, nor see with his own eyes in order to know the patterns of things, because he has mastered the ultimate principle. By according with the Dao and not acting arbitrarily, affairs can be accomplished.

Chapter 48

In seeking learning, knowledge increases every day; in cultivating the Dao, distracting thoughts and superfluous actions decrease every day.

One continues to subtract until Wuwei is reached. With Wuwei and accordance with nature, there is nothing that cannot be accomplished.

Standing on tiptoe one cannot stand steadily; taking large strides one cannot walk far. Deliberate action is confined to a single place; therefore Wuwei, by contrast, can reach everywhere.

Those who govern the world should therefore usually have few affairs and no affairs, so that the people of the world naturally return and attach themselves. When governmental business is numerous and intervention is forced, it is insufficient to govern the world; if one forcibly drives them, the myriad things will not comply.

Chapter 49

The sage has no fixed, unchanging preconceptions, but takes the minds of the common people as his own mind.

Adapt to the times and circumstances, adapt to the actual conditions of things, and follow the Dao (the Way) as changes unfold.

Treat the good with goodness, and treat the not-good with goodness as well; in this way, goodness is attained. Only by practicing integrity can one gain the trust of all under heaven.

When force is used to compel, things will not comply.

Chapter 49

The sage has no fixed, unchanging preconceptions, but regards the wishes of the common people as his own.

Adapt to the times and circumstances, adapt to the actual conditions of things, and follow the Dao as changes unfold.

I treat the good with kindness; I also treat the not-good with kindness, and thus goodness is obtained. I trust the trustworthy; I also treat the untrustworthy with trustworthiness, and thus trust is obtained.

Even if others are not good, I still associate with them in a spirit of goodness, and thus I myself do not lose goodness; even if others are not trustworthy, I still keep faith and wait, and thus I myself do not lose trustworthiness.

The sage dwells in the midst of the people of the world, carefully attending to their affairs, causing their hearts to return to a state of primitive simplicity.

When people's hearts return to primitive simplicity, they no longer distinguish between one another or calculate advantages.

The common people all direct their gaze and attention toward the sage, observing and imitating his conduct.

The sage, for his part, cherishes the people as he would children, protecting them as one would a newborn infant.

Chapter 50

Human beings proceed from life toward death; emerging from the place of life, they enter the place of death.

Among ten persons, roughly three belong to the type skilled at preserving life, three belong to the type inclined toward death, and another three, though they desire to treasure life, nevertheless move toward the place of death through their actions. Why is this? Because they overly indulge and nourish their own lives.

It is said that those skilled in nurturing life, walking upon the land, do not encounter rhinoceroses or fierce tigers, and entering the ranks of battle are not injured by weapons. The rhinoceros finds no place to thrust its horn, the tiger finds no place to apply its claws, and the blade finds no place to pierce. Why is this so? Because he has not fallen into the place of death.

Here the rhinoceros and fierce tiger serve as metaphors for violent and oppressive forces. To remain unharmed while situated amid such violence is due to being yielding, modest, and not contending with others.

Chapter 51

The Dao generates the myriad things,

The root of the Dao (the Way) is without form or image; this is called “Dao.” De (Virtue/Power) bears and nurtures the myriad things; when the circulating transformations of Qi (vital energy) become manifest, this is called “De.” From this the myriad things take bodily form, gathering together to become the various entities, each differing in nature and innate endowment. Things develop according to the natural tendency: once born they necessarily grow, and once grown they necessarily come to some achievement.

Therefore none of the myriad things fails to honor the Dao and treasure De. Dao and De are like the parents of the myriad things. That the Dao is honored and De is treasured is not because anyone has conferred titles of nobility upon them, but always because it proceeds from what is natural. When the Dao and De of the sage fill all under heaven, people revere and support him in just the same way.

Thus the Dao brings the myriad things into existence and nurtures them, causing them to grow, develop, take shape, and mature, while also nourishing and protecting them. When the myriad things reach accomplishment, all merit is ascribed to the Dao. The Dao generates and rears the myriad things yet does not claim them as its own; it acts yet does not rely upon its merit; it causes the myriad things to grow yet does not dominate them. This is called “mysterious De” (xuande, profound and unmanifest virtue).

Chapter 52

All under heaven has an original source, which may be regarded as the mother of the myriad things of the world. What is here called the “beginning” is the Dao; the Dao is the source from which the myriad things arise.

Once one has come to know the mother of the myriad things, one can thereby come to know her children, that is, the myriad things; one draws upon the Dao to establish rites and music, punishments, and governmental decrees. After coming to know the myriad things, one still holds fast to their root—the Dao—and throughout life one will never fall into danger. One must not forget the root or turn one’s back on the great Dao.

If one blocks the apertures of the senses and shuts the gates of desire, one will not toil and rush about throughout life; if one lets the sensory desires open and occupies oneself with responding to all sorts of affairs, even a whole lifetime will hardly suffice to save oneself. To be able to discern the minute is called “clarity”; to be able to hold to softness and weakness is called “strength.” Employing the outer light while returning to inner illumination, one will not bring disaster upon oneself; this is called “inheriting the constant” (xichang, taking up the constant Dao).

Light shines outward; illumination gazes inward.

Chapter 53

If I have even a little knowledge and walk upon the great Dao, the one thing I fear is straying from the great Dao onto a deviant path. The great Dao is originally level and broad, yet people much prefer to take the side paths.

The great Dao is originally simple and easy; it is because people prefer to manage things with deliberate effort and to open other routes that they lose the great Dao.

The palaces and halls of the court are decorated with great magnificence, yet the fields lie waste and the granaries are empty.

A country that has lost the Dao (the Way) often attends only to immediate trivialities while overlooking long-term problems; it pursues only superficial details and forgets the fundamentals. Thus at a glance the court appears to be administered in an orderly manner, yet upon close inspection the common people are truly impoverished.

Those who dress in splendid garments, wear sharp precious swords, feast sumptuously and possess surplus wealth—this is called “dao kua,” obtaining riches by improper means and then boasting of it.

To appropriate what does not belong to oneself is called theft. When De (Virtue/Power) is shallow yet one occupies a high station, when talent and wisdom are limited yet one schemes great undertakings, danger and downfall are approaching, yet one remains completely unaware and instead grows more self-satisfied, regarding oneself as successful. Wearing gorgeous attire that exceeds what one’s own De warrants, amassing possessions without knowing satiety—hence it is termed “dao kua.”

“Dao kua” does not accord with the Dao.

Does not the appearance of such self-boast arise because one originally wished to practice the Dao, yet through artificial and reckless action one instead lost the Dao?

Those who are skilled at establishing cannot be uprooted. When the roots strike deep and the foundation is firm they will not be shaken.

Those who are skilled at holding fast will not scatter. When the hearts of the people submit they cannot be snatched away or altered.

Descendants will continue ancestral sacrifices through the generations without interruption, and the duration of blessings enjoyed will be long.

When the Dao is cultivated in one’s own person, De becomes genuine; when cultivated in the family, De becomes surplus. Some interpret this “surplus” as “she,” meaning to extend far into the future.

When cultivated in the village, De becomes enduring; when cultivated in the state, De becomes abundant; when cultivated throughout the world, De is practiced universally.

All this consists in following the root in order to govern the branches, extending from what is near to what is distant.

Therefore by observing oneself one comes to know oneself; by observing a family one comes to know families; by observing a village one comes to know villages; by observing a state one comes to know states. Their underlying principles communicate with one another.

Applying this same method to observe the world, one may also infer present conditions from those of antiquity.

By what means do I know the state of the world? Precisely by this principle: from a single instance one infers the myriad things.

One whose De is deep and thick resembles a newborn infant. Venomous insects do not sting him, fierce beasts do not injure him, and predatory birds do not seize him. This means that when De has reached the utmost of harmony, sincerity and thickness, even living things that ordinarily wound people cannot bear to harm him.

The infant’s bones are weak and tendons soft, yet the fists clench tightly; though he does not yet know the congress of male and female, the sexual organ becomes erect—this is a sign that Jing (essence) and Qi (vital energy) are abundant. He wails throughout the day yet the voice does not grow hoarse—this is the utmost of harmonious breath.

All these are manifestations of according with nature.

Knowing how to harmonize, one can maintain the constant state; knowing the constant is called illumination. Following the Dao (the Way) of harmonization to nourish life is an auspicious practice. What is here called “auspicious” means goodness; being skilled at harmonization benefits life.

Letting the mind-spirit govern Qi (vital energy) is what truly counts as strength. The will is the commander of Qi: once the heart-mind is stirred, Qi falls into disorder; when Qi is disordered, a person becomes dim and confused. If the heart-mind cannot restrain Qi, one will act contrary to reason and with violence. Most people take vigorous Qi as strength, yet Laozi holds that only when the heart-mind can ride and control Qi is there genuine strength.

When things develop to their prime they move toward old age and decline; this is called not being in accord with the Dao. What is not in accord with the Dao soon perishes. Do not rely on a moment of flourishing, and thereby delay decline and extinction.

Chapter 56

The truly wise person does not speak much, because he has inwardly realized the Dao; those who love to talk at length often have not truly understood, because they seek only outwardly.

Block the apertures of the senses and close the gates through which the mind-spirit rushes outward—that is, do not allow the mind’s intent to come and go following external things; restrain the sharp points, dissolve the entanglements, soften the radiance, and blend oneself with the dusty world. This is called Xuantong (mysterious identity)—union with the profound Dao.

“Xuan” means extremely deep and far-reaching; the truly solid Dao is vast, with nothing outside it. Therefore one who is in accord with the Dao cannot be drawn close, nor can he be kept distant; cannot be tempted by profit, nor can he be harmed; cannot be honored, nor can he be despised. He abides in the Dao, unmoved by external things, and so is respected by all under Heaven.

Chapter 57

Govern the state with upright principles; command warfare with unexpected and deceptive strategies; govern all under Heaven by Wuwei (non-action) and little interference.

How do I know that this is so? The more prohibitions and taboos there are under Heaven, the poorer the people become; the more sharp instruments among the people, the more chaotic the state; the more people given to clever tricks, the more strange and eccentric things flourish; the denser the laws and decrees, the more thieves and bandits there are. As soon as laws are issued, treachery and wickedness arise along with them.

Therefore the sage says: “If I practice Wuwei (non-action), the people will transform and educate themselves; if I refrain from meddling in affairs, the people will naturally become prosperous. Remain settled and do not disturb the people. If I delight in stillness and quiet, the people will naturally become upright; if I set myself aright, the myriad things will also return to uprightness. If I have no greedy desires, the people will naturally become simple and honest, and even if they are given rewards they will not steal.”

Chapter 58

Remain settled and do not disturb the people. If I delight in stillness and quiet, the people will naturally become upright; if one sets oneself aright, the myriad things will also return to uprightness. If I have no greedy desires, the people will naturally become simple and honest, and even if they are given rewards they will not steal.

When government is generous, implicit, and reserved, the people become simple, honest, and sincere; it is enough simply to grasp the general principles when governing. When government is harsh, meticulous, and severe, the people become cunning and deficient. When official decrees are strict and harsh, no one is able to preserve themselves.

Misfortune conceals good fortune within it, and good fortune also harbors misfortune. Who can know the endpoint of their transformations? As for so-called misfortune and good fortune, do they truly possess a fixed and unchanging standard? There is good fortune within misfortune and misfortune within good fortune; throughout the world there exists no absolutely unchanging misfortune or good fortune.

What is upright may transform into the strange, and what is good may also transform into the evil. It is not only misfortune and good fortune that are like this; the deviant and the upright, the good and the evil also frequently transform into one another. This is because when things develop to the extreme they reverse and turn toward the opposite side.

The people have already been confused for a very long time, and no one under heaven is able to understand this. Therefore the sage is square and upright yet does not injure others, is honest and incorruptible yet not harsh, is straight and correct yet not unrestrained, and is luminous yet does not flaunt it. All of these are expressions of not allowing things to proceed to the extreme.

This concludes Volume Three of the Discourse on the True Scripture of the Dao and De. Annotated by Sima.

Chapter 59

In governing the people and serving the Heavenly Dao there is no better method than economy and inward gathering. The economy spoken of here means collecting and gathering the spirit. Only when one is able to gather inward can it be said that one returns early to the Dao (the Way); returning early means continuously accumulating De (Virtue/Power).

By not departing from the correct path one is able to cultivate oneself. Continuously accumulating De, there is nothing that cannot be overcome; holding fast to De without slackening, what then could possibly surpass it? When there is nothing that cannot be overcome, the power of De is profound and vast beyond measure. Only when De is profound, vast, and without limit can one govern the state; only thereafter can one preserve the state.

Thereafter, one can preserve one’s own state.

By grasping the root of the state, the state can last long. The “mother” mentioned here refers to preserving the spirit (Shen) and cultivating Virtue (De). Holding fast to the root makes the foundation deep and the branches and stems firm; this is the method of long life and enduring vision (changsheng jiushi), that is, prolonged existence and the extension of years.

Chapter 60

Governing a large state is like cooking small fish: one must not stir or disturb them at random; too much stirring and the fish will fall apart.

When the Dao (the Way) is used to govern all under heaven, ghosts and spirits will not manifest their numinous power or work mischief. When all things each find their proper place, no prodigies or calamities appear. This does not mean that ghosts and spirits have lost their spiritual power, but rather that their spiritual power does not injure people; the natural processes of cold and heat, wind and rain continue to operate, transforming and generating the myriad things. The spirits do not injure people, nor does the sage injure people. The sage brings into harmony the relations of good and ill fortune between humans and ghosts and spirits. When humans and ghosts and spirits do not injure one another, Virtue (De) therefore gathers together in one place. The common people are the principal support upon which the spirits depend; if the sage does not injure the people, the spirits will not injure them.

Chapter 61

A large state occupies the downstream position; it is the place where all under heaven converge and collect, and it is the feminine of all under heaven. Here “jiao” means gathering and assembling. That a large state can become a king or hegemon, just as rivers and seas can collect the many waters, is because it occupies a low-lying position.

The feminine constantly overcomes the masculine through stillness, because it is still and dwells below. This further elucidates the principle that “the feminine occupies the lower place.”

Therefore, when a large state is humble toward a small state, it can win the allegiance of the small state; when a small state is humble toward a large state, it can obtain the acceptance of the large state. Hence some states are humble in order to win others’ allegiance, while others, through humility, obtain the large state’s acceptance. By means of humility one wins others over, and through humility one is also accepted by others.

What the large state desires is merely to accommodate and nourish the small states; what the small state desires is merely to attach itself to and serve the large state. Both can fulfill their wishes, so the large state in particular ought to be humble.

Those who stand in awe of the Heavenly Dao can preserve their own state; those who accord with the Heavenly Dao can hold all under heaven.

Chapter 62

The Dao is the profound and subtle root of the myriad things, the source that enables the myriad things to display their wondrous functions.

The good person treats the Dao as a treasure, holding fast to it and putting it to use; even the not-good person relies on the Dao to protect and stabilize himself.

Fine words can be employed in social intercourse to inspire trust; honorable actions can be used to influence others.

Speaking of the principles of the Dao (the Way) in a beautiful manner can make people willing to listen, just as one is glad to obtain a desired item at the market. Respecting and putting the Dao into practice can bring sincere conviction, so that one is no longer held in contempt.

Why discard those who are not good?

The preciousness of the Dao lies in its capacity to encompass all things and to instruct with generous sincerity. If one retains only those who meet the standard and discards those who fall short, or retains only the talented and discards those without talent, this cannot be called possessing De (Virtue/Power).

Therefore the establishment of the Son of Heaven and the appointment of the Three Dukes (the officials who assist the Son of Heaven) exist so that the ruler may govern the people and the assisting ministers may instruct and support the ruler.

Even presenting a pair of large jade discs first, followed by four horses, is inferior to sitting quietly and offering this Dao. When the ancients presented gifts they customarily placed the valuable items foremost. The usefulness of treasures is limited, whereas the usefulness of the Dao is inexhaustible.

The reason the ancients valued the Dao is surely that when people seek in accordance with it they obtain what they seek, and when they have faults, acting in accordance with it they receive pardon. Thus the Dao is treasured by all under heaven. Seeking according to the Dao, there is nothing that cannot be obtained; having faults yet able to follow its principle, there is nothing that cannot be pardoned.

Chapter 63

Act with the attitude of Wuwei (non-action), conduct affairs without disturbing the people, and experience the bland and flavorless principle. Regard small matters as great and little as much; when others offend you, respond with kindness and do not calculate grudges.

Treat minute affairs as major ones and small quantities as large; when offended, do not hold it against others. To handle difficult matters begin from the easy; to accomplish great things start from the minute. The difficult affairs of the world invariably arise from the easy, and the great affairs of the world invariably begin from the small. Therefore the sage never regards himself as undertaking great things, and so is able to accomplish them.

Act with caution and diligence, for the ruler must attend to numerous affairs each day and thus can refrain from reckless action, allowing the world to be well governed.

Promises made lightly are often hard to fulfill. Therefore Zilu (a disciple of Confucius) never postponed until the next day what he had agreed to do.

If one regards matters as too easy, greater difficulties will often follow. Petty people first choose the easy tasks and only later discover the hard parts. Therefore the sage always fully estimates the difficulties in advance, and in the end encounters no difficulties. The gentleman first confronts the difficulties, after which the matter becomes easy.

When things are at rest, they are easy to maintain. When problems have not yet appeared, they are easy to plan for and handle. What is fragile is easy to break, and what is minute is easy to scatter. Therefore one should act before events have occurred and govern before disorder has taken shape. A tree large enough to embrace grows from the tiniest sprout; a nine-story terrace is raised from basket after basket of earth; a journey of a thousand li begins with the first step taken underfoot. All this shows that one must prevent misfortune before it arises and treat the beginnings of affairs with caution.

Forcing action will instead ruin matters, because it violates the natural pattern of development of things. Insisting on grasping and holding will likewise bring loss, because it causes one to linger among external objects.

Therefore the sage does not act arbitrarily and so does not ruin affairs; does not deliberately seek accomplishment and so suffers no loss; does not cling to holding on and so loses nothing. There is nothing lost and also nothing gained.

People, in conducting affairs, often fail just as they are about to succeed. If they can treat the ending with the same caution they showed at the beginning, they will not ruin things. Therefore what the sage desires is not to cling to desiring, and he does not value goods that are hard to obtain. What the sage pursues is not to cling to pursuing, and so he does not regard rare and precious things as valuable.

What the sage learns is not to cling to learning, thereby returning to the state from which the multitude has strayed, assisting the ten thousand things to develop according to their own nature, and not daring to force action. The multitude uses the mind excessively, which instead becomes a burden like superfluous warts. Therefore what people ought to learn is to set aside excessive seeking of knowledge and artificial doing, returning to the natural state. The generation of the ten thousand things all follows nature; the sage merely assists and dares not forcibly intervene.

Chapter 65

Those in ancient times who were skilled at practicing the Dao (the Way) did not seek to make the people clever and intelligent, but rather to keep them simple and unadorned. Here “yu” refers to reducing clever calculation and returning to rustic honesty; it does not belittle the people’s abilities. One must remove the superficial and ornate, strive for the substantial and real, and enable people to return to honest thickness and simplicity.

The people are difficult to govern because they have too many clever thoughts; deceit and artifice disrupt governmental affairs. Therefore governing the state by means of clever knowledge and technique is a disaster for the state; not governing the state by means of clever knowledge and technique is a blessing for the state. The former causes those above and below to deceive one another; the latter allows governmental affairs to return to uprightness.

To understand these two ways of governing can also serve as a standard. Always to understand and follow this standard is called Xuan De (profound De [Virtue/Power] that is far-reaching and in accordance with the Dao).

People know that employing clever and crafty wisdom is not as good as refraining from using it. Without profound and subtle De (Virtue/Power), who could achieve this?

Xuan De (the deep and unfathomable De that accords with the Dao (the Way)) is far-reaching and hard to fathom; it runs contrary to worldly principles, yet in the end it can return to the greatest accordance.

The ordinary tendency of all things in the world is to value cleverness; only those who possess Xuan De hold it in low regard. Although this runs contrary to the secular world, it accords with the Great Dao.

Chapter 66

The reason the rivers and seas can become the gathering place for the waters of numerous valleys is that they excel at occupying a lowly position, and thus are able to contain the hundred streams. If the sage wishes to stand above the multitude, he must keep his words humble and low; if he wishes to walk ahead of the multitude, he must place himself behind them. Therefore, though he occupies a high position, the people do not feel burdened; though he walks in front, the people do not feel harmed. Thus all under heaven are happy to support and promote him, and do not grow weary of him. Precisely because he does not contend with others, no one under heaven is able to contend with him.

Pride and self-satisfaction invite loss, while humility and yielding bring benefit.

Chapter 67

Everyone under heaven says that my Dao is so vast that it does not resemble anything. Here “xiao” means to be similar, indicating that it is different from the things with which people are familiar.

Precisely because it is vast, it does not resemble any particular concrete thing. If it closely resembled some thing, it would long since have become small. I have three treasures that I have always guarded and held: the first is compassion, the second is frugality, and the third is not daring to be the one who goes first under heaven.

Because of compassion, one is able to be brave; a person of benevolence and love necessarily possesses courage. Because of frugality, one is able to have abundance; by economizing and using things sparingly, there will be surplus. Not daring to be the one who goes first under heaven, one is able to become the leader of those who complete the vessels. “Completing the vessels” means completing the law, referring to the principles that the multitude follow; thus it is said that he can become the guide of the people.

Nowadays, if one discards compassion yet pursues bravery, discards frugality yet pursues abundance, discards staying behind yet strives to take the lead, one will head toward destruction, because one will inevitably be harmed by external things.

Compassion, when used in battle, can bring victory; when used in defense, can bring security. People of benevolent De (Virtue/Power) will have the multitude gather round them. When Heaven wishes to protect someone, it uses compassion to safeguard him; people likewise cannot bear to harm him.

Chapter 68

Those skilled at serving as generals do not flaunt brute courage or fight fiercely; those skilled at warfare do not easily become angry. Those skilled at gaining victory do not contend with others, yet can cause the enemy to submit without engaging in battle. Those skilled at employing people always occupy a humble position, thereby winning the hearts of the many.

This is called the De of non-contention, and also called being skilled at drawing upon the strength of others. It is the highest principle in accord with the Heavenly Dao (the Way) since ancient times. When De is in harmony with the Heavenly Dao, nothing has surpassed it since humanity began.

Chapter 69

Those who employ military force often say: “I dare not take the initiative to attack, but prefer to be on the responding side.” Taking the offensive means regarding strong troops as one’s own charge; being on the responding side means others come to invade, and one responds only when necessary.

“Not daring to advance an inch, rather retreating a foot” speaks of yielding without forcing. This is called seeming to march forth yet without the formation of marching forth, not initiating an attack yet able to make the opponent withdraw of their own accord; like stretching out a hand to ward off yet without an arm, yet still able to make others yield; like confronting the enemy yet without an enemy, so that the enemy submits of their own will without compulsion; like holding no weapon, yet able to achieve complete victory.

No disaster is greater than underestimating the enemy; underestimating the enemy nearly loses what I hold precious. Here the “treasures” refer to the Three Treasures of Daoism.

Therefore, when two armies face each other with matched forces, the side that holds a heart of pity and compassion can prevail. The side whose military reasoning is just and who does not contend by force will receive the sympathy of the people.

Chapter 70

My words are easy to understand and easy to put into practice; yet no one under Heaven can truly understand them, and no one can truly put them into practice. This is because the principles they contain are subtle and concentrated.

Speech has its foundation, action has its governor; traced to the end, both return to the root. Precisely because people lack genuine understanding, they do not comprehend me. Those who understand me are few, and thus I am regarded as precious.

The great Dao (the Way) is vast and profound, so those who truly understand it are few.

Therefore the sage wears coarse cloth on the outside while holding De (Virtue/Power) like fine jade within.

Even in a state of ignorance, one must still cultivate the true Dao.

Chapter 71

Knowing that one has something one does not know is high-minded; not knowing yet considering oneself to know is a defect. Knowing clearly yet pretending not to know will quickly invite resentment; actually not knowing yet insisting that one does will invite disaster. Only by treating “having a defect” as a defect can one remain free from being troubled by this defect. The sage has no such defect because he can look it in the face and remain wary of it, and thus is not troubled by it. If a person can perceive their own illness, they will not fall too ill. If they consider themselves free of illness, they may instead invite disaster.

Chapter 72

When the common people no longer fear authority, a still greater authority will arrive. If one does not hold it in awe, one will fall into a dreadful predicament. Do not make one’s place of rest too cramped, nor be overly particular about one’s dwelling; being able to dwell in it peacefully is enough. Do not weary of one’s own life. If one can be content with everyday food and take pleasure in one’s clothing, one will not grow weary of life; not wearying of external things, one will not be rejected by them. Therefore the sage understands himself yet does not deliberately make himself known; even when not understood by others, he does not grow angry. He cherishes himself yet does not regard himself as exalted, cultivating himself through humility. Thus one should discard outward craving and choose inner ease.

Chapter 73

Courage that shows off strength and charges ahead may bring death; courage that restrains itself and does not act rashly can instead preserve life. Knowing these two approaches, some bring benefit and some cause harm. What the Dao of Heaven detests—who can know the reason? Therefore the sage is cautious about this and does not pronounce upon it lightly. If a person understands this point, avoiding the course that leads to death and choosing the course that preserves life, this is the beneficial aspect, and one can also gain inner peace. Yet there are those who grasp these principles yet more quickly proceed toward death—this is the harmful aspect. Could this be the way the Dao of Heaven detests people? Who can truly know the intent of the Dao of Heaven? Therefore when the sage discusses the Dao of Heaven he is extremely cautious and dares not draw conclusions rashly. The Dao of Heaven does not contend with the myriad things yet is skilled at prevailing; it accords with the natural movement of all things, and nothing can go against it.

Without needing to speak deliberately, the Dao (the Way) is naturally skilled at responding. By observing in accordance with the patterns of things, one can discern fortune and misfortune. There is no need to summon it, yet it arrives of its own accord. Without urging, affairs can be swiftly accomplished; without personally going, the goal can still be reached. Planning with ease and composure, matters can be properly arranged. “Chan” describes a relaxed and unhurried manner: neither impatient nor restless, and there is nothing that cannot be accomplished. The net of the Dao of Heaven is vast and wide; though it appears sparse, it never misses anything. “Huihui” means vast and expansive.

Chapter 74

The people often do not fear death, so why use death to frighten them? When people see profit, they may forget their lives—this is what it means not to fear death.

If people could all be made to fear death, then for those who do evil I would seize and execute them, and who would still dare to do evil? “Qi” means wickedness.

There is always a power that oversees killing and carries it out. When Heaven wishes to eliminate the wicked, it will surely borrow someone’s hand. To kill in place of the one who oversees killing is like chopping wood in place of a skilled carpenter: few fail to injure their own hands. Reckless and rash actions invite disaster.

Chapter 75

The people starve because the rulers levy excessive taxes, and thus they go hungry. The people are difficult to govern because the rulers issue numerous decrees and act forcefully, and thus they are hard to govern. Disturbing the people is precisely the reason they become difficult to govern.

The people take death lightly because the rulers make them pursue an overly abundant life, and thus they take death lightly. People pursue profit originally in order to sustain themselves, yet they often lose their lives because of profit.

Only those who do not regard the nourishment of life as overly important surpass those who single-mindedly value life. By placing oneself beyond concern, one can instead preserve oneself.

Chapter 76

When a person is alive, the body is soft and pliant; after death it becomes stiff and rigid. When plants and trees are growing, they are tender and supple; when they wither and die, they become dry and hard. Therefore, the hard and strong belong to the side of death, while the soft and weak belong to the side of life. Thus, when an army displays its strength, it is hard to achieve victory; when a tree grows overly hard, it is easily broken. The strong occupy the lower position, while the weak occupy the higher position.

Chapter 77

Is the Dao of Heaven not like drawing a bow to shoot an arrow? When it is too high, it is pressed down; when too low, it is raised up. What has excess is reduced, what is insufficient is supplemented. It diminishes the full and replenishes the humble.

The operating patterns of the Dao (the Way) of Heaven

Chapter 77

Is the Dao of Heaven not just like drawing a bow? When the bowstring stands too high, it is pressed down; when it hangs too low, it is raised up. Whatever has surplus is reduced a little; whatever is insufficient is supplemented a little.

The Dao of Heaven diminishes what is full and overflowing and replenishes what is humble and low.

The pattern of the Dao of Heaven is to take from those who have too much and make up for those who have too little. The ways of the human world, however, are not like this: they often cut still more from those who already lack enough, in order to offer it to those who already have surplus.

People rely on high rank to oppress the humble, on wealth to plunder the poor, on cleverness to bully the dull, and on worthiness to lord it over the unworthy.

Who can take their own surplus and supply it to the people of the world? Only those who possess the Dao. Therefore the sage acts yet does not rely on what he has done, and when his work is accomplished he does not claim the credit. In acting this way, is it not that he has no desire to display his own worthiness?

The sage has a surplus of merit and virtue, and so he yields it and gives it to others.

Chapter 78

Under heaven there is nothing more yielding and weak than water, yet when it comes to attacking what is hard and strong, nothing can surpass water, because nothing else can take its place. Therefore the yielding is able to overcome the firm and strong, and the weak is able to overcome the powerful. There is no one under heaven who does not know this principle, yet few are able to put it into practice.

Therefore the sage has said: One who can bear the humiliation of an entire state may be called the lord of the altars of soil and grain (the ruler of the country); one who can bear the calamities of an entire state may be called the king of all under heaven. These true principles often sound like paradoxes. Only by being able to contain filth and accommodate what is unclean can one accomplish a great undertaking.

Chapter 79

If one tries to reconcile a deep-seated resentment, some leftover resentment will inevitably remain—how can that count as truly well settled? Therefore the sage holds the left tally (the half of the contract kept by the creditor) yet does not press others for payment. This means that a person of De (Virtue/Power) is like one who keeps charge of a contract, trustworthy and generous; a person without De is like a tax collector, eager to levy and to pursue what is owed.

The Dao of Heaven shows no partiality toward any particular person, yet it always assists those who do good.

Chapter 80

Let the state be small and the people few. Even if there are all sorts of implements, there is no need to use them; let the people cherish their lives and not travel far without good cause.

They should treasure life and dwell contentedly in their native soil.

Although there are boats and carriages, there is no need to ride in them; they do not migrate or journey far.

Although there are armor and weapons, there is no occasion to array them for use; they do not contend.

Let the people return to the simple way of life of knotting cords to keep records.

Let them not deceive one another.

Let the people find their food sweet, their clothing becoming, their dwellings secure, and their customs a source of delight.

Even if they dwell in remote, crude, and cramped places, the people still find those places sweet and palatable, comfortable and joyful.

Neighboring states can see one another, and the sounds of cocks crowing and dogs barking can be heard from each other. The people believe that where they live is quite close to the neighboring land.

From birth through old age until death, the people do not come and go among one another; they regard their own food as tasty, their clothing as fine, their dwellings as comfortable, and their customs as pleasant. Even while living in distant, simple, and narrow places, they still feel them to be sweet and peaceful.

Neighboring countries can see one another, and the crowing of chickens and barking of dogs can be heard mutually. The people believe they are close to each other, yet until they grow old and die they never visit one another; they have no desire to seek anything from outside.

Chapter Eighty-One

True words are not necessarily pleasing to the ear, because they are plain and straightforward; words that please the ear are not necessarily true, because they are often ornate and cleverly adorned.

A good person does not love to argue; a person of auspicious goodness uses few words. One who loves to argue is not necessarily good.

The words of thieves are often especially sweet and easily mislead people.

One who truly possesses wisdom does not pursue extensive and miscellaneous knowledge, but can penetrate all affairs by means of a single fundamental principle; a person of broad learning is not necessarily truly wise.

The sage does not accumulate private wealth. Because he does not take things as his own, he has no private hoard and also suffers no lack. The more he helps others, the more he himself is fulfilled; the more he gives to others, the more he himself obtains. This is because De (Virtue/Power) and wisdom are inexhaustible; diminishing selfish desires instead brings increase.

The Dao (the Way) of Heaven causes the myriad things to obtain benefit without harming them; just as spring causes the myriad things to grow and autumn causes them to ripen, it extends its fine accomplishments throughout the world.

The sage’s way of acting is to do something, yet not to contend with others for victory. Although he cannot refrain from doing anything at all, he merely assists the myriad things without compelling them.

Discussion of the True Jing (scripture/classic) of the Dao and De, Volume Four, Complete.