《道德真经集义大旨(刘惟永)》

The Diagram of the Valley Spirit says that the Valley Spirit is the spirit and Qi stored in the five internal organs. There are many interpretations of it. Some say that the “Mysterious Female” refers to the heart; others say that the “Valley Spirit” refers to the heart. Both interpretations are incorrect. Here, “spirit” should mean the spirits of the five internal organs: when essence and Qi are not depleted and original Qi is not diminished, the spirit and Qi can be nourished and remain vigorous, and a person’s complexion will appear radiant.

The Thirty Spokes Diagram, the Attainment of the One Diagram, and the Dao Gives Rise to the One Diagram are the titles of diagrams included in this book.

The Birth and Death Diagram says that this principle applies both to the human body and to all things. “Young, middle-aged, and old” here refer respectively to the stages of youth, middle age, and old age in men and women. If a person cannot follow the proper Way through to the end, their original Qi will dissipate and will not return to the source where the two Qi of Yin and Yang intermingle.

The Dao Gives Birth, De Nurtures Diagram explains: Dao enables me to live; De nurtures me; external things form my body; and my circumstances and conditions bring my endowment to completion.

The Diagram of the Great Void’s First One says that the great Dao of emptiness and nothingness first gives rise to a single Qi. This Qi gathers and forms primordial chaos, which contains the Three Powers: Heaven, Earth, and humanity. Once the Three Powers differentiate, above and below each take their proper place. None of this is brought about by external things; it arises spontaneously, and so is called “naturalness of emptiness and nothingness.” Dao takes emptiness as its foundation, then transforms and gives birth to the myriad things, enabling them to serve in everyday life. Its generation and transformation have no end.

The three colors—blue-green, yellow, and white—each give rise to three layers of heaven, together forming the Nine Heavens. Each of the Nine Heavens then gives rise to three more layers; three times nine makes the Twenty-Seven Heavens. Adding the Nine Heavens governed by the three palaces of Metal, Fire, and Earth brings the total to Thirty-Six Heavens. The Scripture on the Origin and Establishment of the Heavens says that the three Qi—Mystery, Origin, and Beginning—pervade the whole body and shine forth as light. The three Qi transform into bodily forms and, in turn, give rise to the Three Caverns (the three major divisions of Daoist scriptures). The Qi of Beginning appears as blue-green light and rises to the Origin of Heaven; the Qi of Origin appears as white light, dwelling in the center and arising from Human Mystery; and the Qi of Mystery appears as yellow light and arises below, from the Origin of Earth. These three colors combine to give rise to nine kinds of radiance, which illuminate the Dharma Body, making it resplendent.

Read together with the preceding passage, this explains the origin of the Three Pure Ones (Sanqing), the three highest deities revered in Daoism. From the three colors, the Three Pure Ones differentiate into the Three Treasures, whose source is the same primordial Qi. Thus the Great Void, the vast formless emptiness, first gives rise to the One; the One Qi then divides into three, forming the distinct Qi, colors, and appearances of the Three Pure Ones. For this reason, they are called “natural.” They were not born of parents, nor did they arise through the union of Yin and Yang. Rather, they received the Qi of nature and appeared after the Three Extremes—the different realms of Heaven, Earth, and humanity—had taken shape. Through countless kalpas, the Most High Lord Lao has manifested in Heaven and among humanity according to circumstances, at times taking birth through a womb. Yet his ultimate source remains the division of the three Qi and their manifestation as the Three Pure Ones.

Nine-Colored Precious Radiance

In the beginning, the primordial, indistinct Qi arose, revealing a blue-gray radiance. From this indistinct Qi came the hollow, open Qi, revealing a red radiance. The hollow, open Qi gave rise to vast Qi, revealing a blue-green radiance; primordial Qi gave rise to lofty Qi, revealing a green radiance. Lofty Qi gave rise to radiant Qi, revealing a yellow radiance; radiant Qi gave rise to hidden Qi, revealing a white radiance. Mysterious Qi gave rise to harmonizing Qi, revealing a purple radiance; harmonizing Qi gave rise to blazing Qi, revealing a jade-green radiance; blazing Qi gave rise to flowing Qi, revealing a black radiance.

Thereafter, four heavens emerged: Donghua, Nanji, Xiling, and Beizhen. Each gave rise to eight further heavens, such as Taihuang Heaven and Huangzeng Heaven. Together, the four heavens had thirty-two heavens, the number of heavens in the Three Realms. Adding the four heavens mentioned earlier brought the total to thirty-six. The Great Luo Heaven and the Middle Luo Heaven together made seventy-two, corresponding to the number of Heaven and Earth. The seventy-two seasonal markers, together with the nine heavens, formed the eighty-one Great Mysteries. The levels of regions, provinces, districts, and households were also arranged according to this number.

Diagram of the Four Beginnings

The fundamental number of Earth is five. Earth also takes the number four; together they make seventy-two, corresponding to the number of Heaven and Earth. The seventy-two seasonal markers, together with the nine heavens, form the eighty-one Great Mysteries. The levels of regions, provinces, districts, and households are also arranged according to this number.

Earth corresponds to the Kun line—the Yin line representing Earth in the Yijing—and is divided into twelve, also called the One Qi, the unified primordial energy. Thus, when light is opened, twelve figures together encompass the beginning of all things.

Diagram of the Heart as the Responsive Means

Master Wang’s oral teaching says: Visualize the twenty-eight lunar mansions—the twenty-eight stellar groups encircling the celestial region—distributed throughout the body, to support the Seven Regulators: the Sun and Moon, along with the planets associated with the Five Phases (Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, Water). By this method of calculation, each mansion occupies about thirteen degrees. In visualization, the possibility of a leap month in the year is also taken into account, so two degrees are counted and arranged in alternating order across twelve positions. At each position, visualize two mansions; only the heart position has four, making twenty-eight mansions in all.

This also carries another meaning: it points precisely to “the Dao gives birth to the Mysterious Realm, and the heart responds as its means.” For this reason, four mansions are specially placed at the center, beginning with the Void mansion.

The motions of the heavenly bodies, the arrangement of the sun, moon, and stars, and the allotment of destinies to all things each follow their own principles. The Dao has neither beginning nor end; it arises from a place deep, dark, and far beyond reach. According to the twenty-eight lunar lodges, the Zi position corresponds to the Lodge of Emptiness. When the primordial Qi returns to the Yellow Palace, it gathers and then disperses. Once dispersed, it gives rise to the transformations of all things. All things receive their allotment from here. Thus, emptiness is the Dao, and the Dao arises from emptiness. In terms of celestial phenomena, Emptiness lies in a remote, hidden place called the Mysterious Region. This is what is meant by “the Dao gives birth to One.” Among the twenty-eight lunar lodges there is the Lodge of Emptiness, and among the twelve houses there is Aquarius; these are used to explain how primordial Qi governs all things. The Suwen says: “In Heaven it is the Mysterious; on Earth it is the Female”—the receptive, life-bearing aspect—and in human beings it is the Dao. This is because thunder rises again in the Zhen position, symbolizing the renewed emergence of Yang energy.

Diagram of the Mysterious Female

Diagram of Keeping to the Female as Heaven’s Gate Opens and Closes

The Dao is “One.” “One” transforms into “Three,” becoming Qian, which is Yang. Qian and Kun join one another, and Yin and Yang wax and wane in turn. Si and Hai meet, and Qian and Kun naturally unite. Yang strength does not separate from Yin softness: this is the Way of Heaven. If people can follow this pattern, they can resonate with the Dao and put it into practice.

Diagram of the Thirteen Paths to Life and Death

Diagram of the Thirteen Means of Nurturing Life and Avoiding Death

The Most High says: “Water and fire may be compared to the Dao’s true substance; people cannot be without them for even a moment. If anything or anyone could live while apart from water and fire, it would not be ordinary.” Here, worldly water and fire are used to explain how their functions correspond to those of the Dao.

Diagram of the Thirteen Paths to Life and Death

Diagram of the Thirteen Means of Nurturing Life and Avoiding Death

The Most High says: “Water and fire may be compared to the Dao’s true substance; people cannot be without them for even a moment. If anything or anyone could live while apart from water and fire, it would not be ordinary.” Here, worldly water and fire serve as an analogy. As for true water and true fire, Kan and Li—the trigrams that symbolize water and fire—must be paired. Drawing out and replenishing them follow fixed rules, and their use must accord with the proper timing. This practice differs from the “thirteen paths to life and death” described above; hence it is said to enable one to “avoid the realm of death.”

Diagram of the Steps of Dao and De

There are two kinds of Dao and three kinds of De. The first kind is the Dao of emptiness, nonbeing, and Wuwei (non-action); the second is the Dao of unified Qi (vital energy) and purposeful action. Thus, the Dao has two levels, deep and shallow. The Dao of unified Qi is also called “Utmost De.” Everything below Utmost De belongs to purposeful action, so De is further divided into three kinds. When distinguished by their inner and outer levels, all of these are methods of the orthodox Way. The Dao, De, Yin-Yang, and human affairs are inherently interconnected and form a single whole. If they are not understood as an integrated whole, obstacles will arise at every turn. Students should examine this carefully.

Authors represented in the Collected Interpretations of the True Classic of the Dao and De:

Heshang Gong, a Han-dynasty figure, wrote a commentary.

Wang Fusi, a man of the Three Kingdoms period in the state of Wei, whose given name was Bi, wrote a commentary.

Emperor Ming of the Tang, also known as Emperor Xuanzong of the Tang, posthumously titled the Sagely, Great, Bright, and Filial Emperor, personally wrote a commentary and explanatory notes in the guihai year of the Kaiyuan era (723).

Du Guangting, a man of Later Shu, known as Master Guangde, wrote the Expansive Meaning of the Sagely Classic in the xinyou year of the Tianfu era (901).

Emperor Daojun of the Song, also known as Emperor Huizong of the Song, posthumously titled the Emperor of Spiritual Embodiment and Accord with the Dao, Heroic Deeds and Meritorious Restraint, Sagely Letters, Benevolence and De, Manifest Filial Piety, personally wrote a commentary.

Wang Jiefu, also known as Wang Anshi, a Song-dynasty Grand Tutor and Duke of Jing, whose courtesy name was Jiefu, wrote a commentary.

Su Yingbin, also known as Su Zhe, a Song-dynasty Grand Master for Splendid Happiness and Vice Director of the Department of State Affairs, whose courtesy name was Ziyou, wrote a commentary in the gengchen year of the Yuanfu era (1100).

Lü Jifu, also known as Lü Huiqing, a Song-dynasty Academician of the Hall of Literary Glory and Director of the Temple of Sweet Springs, wrote an explanation.

Lu Nongshi, a Song-dynasty Grand Master and Prefect of Bozhou, wrote an explanation.

Wang Yuanzhe, a Song-dynasty Academician-in-waiting of the Dragon Diagram Pavilion, Left Remonstrance Counselor, and Count of Linchuan, wrote an explanation.

Liu Zhongping, a Song-dynasty official, wrote an explanation.

Liu Juji, also known as Liu Jing, a Song-dynasty Director of the Department of Regional Affairs, wrote an explanation.

The “New Interpretation by the Chancellor” appears in the edition with eight commentators, but the author’s name is not given.

Liu J uji: A Director of the Bureau of Offices in the Northern Song, named Jing, who wrote a commentary.

The Chancellor’s New Explanation: Included in the Eight Commentaries, but with no author named.

Liu Ji: Styled Master Qingyuan; wrote a commentary in the Bingyin year of the Shaoxing era (1146).

Zhao Shian: Dharma name Master Chongzhen Baoyuan. He served as abbot of Yuxu Temple on Mount Fu, was awarded purple robes and the title Mingju, and was named Daosheng. He wrote a commentary in the Renshen year of the Shaoxing era (1152).

Shao Ruoyu: Styled Master Benlai; wrote a commentary in the Jimao year of the Shaoxing era (1159).

Wang Zhiran: Styled Master Jiandu; wrote a commentary in the Jichou year of the Qiandao era (1169).

Cheng Taizhi: A Minister of Personnel and Academician of the Longtu Pavilion in the Northern Song, posthumously titled Lord Wenjian, and named Dachang. In the Jichou year of the Qiandao era (1169), he composed General Remarks on the Yi and Laozi.

Huang Maocai: Military prefect of Jingmen in the Southern Song; wrote a commentary in the Jiawu year of the Chunxi era (1174).

Zhu Ziyang: Grand Preceptor in the Southern Song, posthumously titled Lord Huiguo Wen, named Xi, and courtesy name Yuanhui. In the Yimao year of the Qingyuan era (1195), he produced Evidential Notes on the Songs of Chu and Recorded Sayings.

Zhan Qiupu: A Confucian scholar of the Southern Song, named Jie and styled the Old Wanderer; wrote a commentary.

Bai Yuchan: Styled the Elder of Purple Clarity; wrote a commentary.

Liao Cuiran: Styled Master Xiyi; wrote a commentary.

Chen Bixu: Named Jingyuan and styled Master Bixu; wrote a commentary in a Yiyou year.

Xie Tunan: A Court Gentleman for Audience in the Southern Song, styled the Heavenly Sweetness of Lotus Mountain; wrote a commentary in the Bingwu year of the Chunyou era (1246).

Lin Yanzhai: A Hanlin Academician in the Southern Song, styled Zhuxi and named Xiyi; composed lecture notes in the Xinyou year of the Jingding era (1261).

Fan Yingyuan: Abbot of Shouning Temple on Mount Heng; styled the Master Gushenzi of Guoshan’s Secluded Studio; wrote a commentary.

Xu Junyue: An officer in the Provisioning Office for the armies of Ezhou in the Southern Song, named Quan; wrote a commentary on Chapter One in the Renxu year of the Jingding era (1262).

Xue Yongzhai: Named Xuan, an education commissioner for Henan Circuit in the Yuan dynasty; wrote a commentary.

Xiuxiu’an: Styled the Old Shepherd of Mengshan, named Deyi; wrote a commentary in the Wuyin year of the Zhiyuan era (1278).

Niu Miaochuan, also known as Master Tongzhen, served as the supervising director of Wanshou Palace in Chengdu Prefecture. He used the sobriquet “Old Shepherd of Meng Mountain” and the name De Yi, and wrote a commentary in 1278, the Wuyin year of the Zhiyuan era under Emperor Shizu of the Yuan.

Niu Miaochuan was also known as Master Tongzhen and served as the supervising director of Wanshou Palace in Chengdu Prefecture. Another account says he used the sobriquet Chengmingzi and wrote a series of questions and answers in 1280, the Gengchen year of the Zhiyuan era.

Chu Boxiu was a Daoist from Guhang, in the area of present-day Hangzhou, and wrote a commentary.

Yu Qingzhong served as a professor in Baoqing Prefecture and wrote a commentary in 1285, the Yiyou year of the Yuan.

Yang Zhiren used the sobriquet Wuwuzi and wrote a commentary in 1287, the Dinghai year of the Zhiyuan era.

Xu Liuxu, whose given name was Yuan, was also known as the Recluse of the Sixfold Void. He wrote a commentary in 1291, the Xinmao year of the Zhiyuan era.

Li Shicong was granted the title “Master of Pure Perfection.” He used the sobriquet Gushenzi and wrote a commentary, which was printed as a book in 1295, the Yiwei year of the Yuanzhen era.

The works of the thirty-six authors listed above are complete commentaries. After removing extraneous material, the compiler arranged them in sequence.

Zhang Chongying used the title “Assistant Minister of Jade Purity” and the name Mingdao. He wrote a commentary in 1253, the Guichou year of the Baoyou era.

Zhang Lingying, whose given name was Ya, was granted the Song title “King of Divine Letters, Sagely Might, Filial Virtue, and Loyal Benevolence.” He wrote a series of questions and answers.

The works of these two authors are spirit-writing texts, received through planchette writing.

Su Shangxiang, whose given name was Mingdao, wrote a commentary in 1253, the Guichou year of the Baoyou era.

Zhang Lingying, whose given name was Ya, was granted the Song title “King of Divine Letters, Sagely Might, Filial Virtue, and Loyal Benevolence.” He wrote a series of questions and answers.

The works of these two authors are spirit-writing texts, received through planchette writing.

Su Jingjing served as a Gentleman of Literary Merit and as an official at the Grain Supply Office in Hunzhou. He passed the jinshi examination during the Song dynasty’s Kaixing era and used the sobriquet Su Qiweng of Tranquil Stillness.

The lay Buddhist known as Ben Yian.

Chai Yuangao.

Wu Huanzhong.

The works of these four authors were added later.

The following eight authors or works are cited by the compiler in assembling the annotations: Master Shi (Kumārajīva), Master Zhao (Sengzhao), Lu Xisheng, Minister Sima Wen (Sima Guang), Master Guang of the Taiping era, Master Yuan, Bingwen, and the Ye family.

Other cited commentators and authors of texts include the Huainanzi, Sima Tan, Sima Qian, Yan Junping, Han Kangbo, Sun Deng, Ruan Ji, Ruan Xian, Guo Pu, Emperor Jianwen of Liang, Fu Yi, Lu Deming, and Cheng Xuanying.

Li Ruoyu, Zhang Junxiang, Yang Fu, Ying Jifu, Zhang Xuanjing, Ma Dan, Guo Yun, Dong Yu, Chen Shao, Li Qi, Wang Shang, Cheng Xuanying, Li Ruoyu, Zhang Junxiang, Yang Fu, Ying Jifu, Zhang Xuanjing, Ma Dan, Guo Yun, Dong Yu, Chen Shao, Li Qi, Wang Shang, Zhang Si, and Wang Tan—twenty-six scholars in all—are the authorities cited by Fan Yingyuan.

Guan Yinzi, Liezi, Zhuangzi, Wenzi, and Han Feizi—five authors in all—are cited as corroborating sources.

A eulogy to Laozi: How great Laozi is! His original substance is blended and formless, transcending both form and Qi. He existed before Heaven and Earth and brought them into being. In the five thousand characters of the Dao De Jing, he established teachings through mysterious and subtle words, passing them down to later generations. Though countless kalpas have passed, he endures for ages. The Dao is revered; De is precious.

Prefatory Discussion of Laozi

Grand Master Ningyuan, Supervisor of the Mysterious Wonder Abbey in Changde Circuit.

Compiled by Liu Weiyong of the Guanshi Yuewu.

Corrected by Ding Yidong of Shitan, former Gentleman for Court Audiences, Acting Registrar of the Court of the Grand Treasury, and Concurrently Compiler in the Privy Council.

The account of Laozi in the Records of the Grand Historian says that he was from Qurenli, in Lixiang, Ku County, in the state of Chu. His surname was Li, his given name Er, and his courtesy name Boyang; his posthumous title was Dan. He once served in the Zhou court as an archivist, overseeing its library. Confucius traveled to Zhou, intending to ask Laozi about ritual. Laozi told him, “The people who established the ritual systems you speak of have long since decayed, bones and all. Only their words remain. A gentleman, moreover, takes office when the time is right; when it is not, he goes along with events like tumbleweed rolling in the wind. I have heard that a skilled merchant hides his treasures deep, so that he appears to have nothing. A virtuous gentleman, too, looks humble and seems dull. That is all I can tell you.”

After Confucius left, he said to his disciples, “I know that birds fly, fish swim, and beasts run. Those that run can be caught in nets; those that swim can be caught with a fishing line; those that fly can be brought down with arrows. But as for the dragon, I do not know how it rides the wind and clouds into the sky. The Laozi I met today must be something like a dragon.”

Laozi studied the Dao and De, and believed in concealing oneself and seeking no fame. He lived in Zhou for a long time. Seeing the Zhou court decline, he set out to leave. When he reached Hangu Pass, Yin Xi, the official guarding the pass, said to him, “You are about to withdraw into seclusion and go far away. Please write a book for me.” Laozi then wrote two sections, setting out the meaning of the Dao and De in more than five thousand characters. Afterward, he departed, and no one ever learned what became of him.

The text goes on to say that Laozi lived to be about 160 years old.

It is said below that Laozi lived for about 160 years, though some say he lived for more than 200. This was because he cultivated the Dao and preserved his health, thereby extending his life.

One hundred and twenty-nine years after Confucius’s death, the Records of the Grand Historian recount that the Zhou court historian Xu met Duke Xian of Qin and said, “In the beginning, the state of Qin and the Zhou royal house joined together and then parted. Five hundred years after their separation, they will unite again; seventy years after that union, someone will arise who will claim kingship and hegemony.” Some say that the man named Dan was Laozi; others say he was not. People today cannot determine what truly happened.

Laozi was a gentleman who lived in seclusion and held no office. His son was named Zong. Zong served as a general in the state of Wei and was enfeoffed at Duangan. Zong’s son was named Zhu; Zhu’s son was named Gong; and Gong’s great-great-grandson was named Jia. Jia held office during the reign of Emperor Wen of Han. Jia’s son, Jie, served as tutor to the Prince of Jiaoxi, responsible for his seal, and so the family settled in Qi.

Those in the world who study Laozi’s teachings often disparage Confucian learning, while those who study Confucianism disparage Laozi’s teachings. “Those whose paths differ cannot make plans together”—could this be what the saying means?

Preface by the Immortal Ge.

Laozi, revered in Daoism as the Ancestor of the Dao, upheld the Way of natural spontaneity. He was born before Great Nonbeing, when form and names had not yet taken shape, and arose from a place with no dependence. He experienced the countless transformations of Heaven and Earth, from their beginning to their end—transformations beyond words and beyond reckoning. His ending has no end, his utmost depth has no bounds, and his limit cannot be reached. Thus he is a being without limit. Together with the Great Dao, he brings Heaven and Earth into being and nurtures them; he establishes foundations in the ten directions, the four quarters and above and below, and spreads the primordial Qi, the root energy that forms all things in Heaven and Earth. He embodies a nature of utmost purity in Dao and De, vast and boundless, beyond description by any name.

His radiance shines forth, revealing its pattern. His achievements stand lofty, their depth impossible to measure; he is the source of the divine beings. The sun, moon, and stars shine brightly because of him; Heaven and Earth receive his influence and gain vitality; Qian and Kun, Heaven and Earth, move and breathe out their vital essences. His position is exalted, yet he has no people to rule; he is honored, yet holds no official rank. His covering and sustaining power are without end. He teaches the heavens in the eight directions and widely spreads the Great Dao. Before Heaven and Earth were opened, he also descended into the world and served as a preceptor to the ruler, generation after generation without interruption.

People do not know that he brings all things to completion. He makes no claim to this mysterious De, and so all the sages revere him together. The Dao is exalted and De is precious; no one commands them to be so, for they have always followed their own nature. This is what is meant by Laozi.

In the Zhou dynasty, Laozi again took birth as the son of Mother Li. It is said that he was born from her left armpit. At birth his hair was already white, and so he was called Laozi. The title “Laozi” arises from the mysterious Dao: Laozi existed before Heaven and Earth and has no appointed term of decline, hence the name “Laozi.” People of the world think Laozi began in the Zhou dynasty, but this title had already existed countless kalpas ago, its history so ancient that it lies beyond fathoming.

Later, as the world declined and the Great Dao could no longer be put into practice, Laozi journeyed west. Yin Xi, the official who guarded the pass, said, “Is the Great Dao about to disappear? I hope you will write a book for me.” Laozi then composed the two parts of the Dao De Jing, amounting to five thousand characters. These five thousand characters explain the source of Dao and De. They are so expansive that nothing lies outside them, and so subtle that nothing escapes their reach. This classic speaks of the natural principles of Heaven and Earth and of human beings.

My former master once said, “Study it diligently, and you can join in the workings of Taiji, the Supreme Ultimate, so that even the farthest reaches resound in response. When the heavens rejoice, you can meet those who accord with the mysterious Dao. Quietly contemplate it in search of truth, and many wondrous principles will respond and gather. Turn your gaze inward to observe your own form and image, and Shen and Qi will endure. Bring yourself into accord with Dao and De, and the myriad spirits will revere you; calamities will be dispelled, blessings will extend through the ten directions, the state will be stable, and the household at peace. Who can understand these principles?”

The text of Wuwei, the Way of non-action, is not dishonored when defaced, nor made more glorious when adorned. It is not muddied when stirred, nor made clearer when clarified. This is naturalness. It appears in accord with the Great Dao, and its teachings are transmitted without end. This is constancy. Thus, to know constancy is to be called wise. The Great Dao itself does not deliberately act; spreading the Great Dao depends on people putting it into practice. This classic is precious and mysterious—how could one not study it with wholehearted devotion? I have written this brief account, hoping only that people of the Dao will cherish it. This writing is not yet wholly pure, but because it has been passed down for a long time, I have preserved it for now.

In the Daodejing, “Laozi” is an honorific title for the Supreme Sovereign, the Mysterious Origin. The profound and wondrous patriarch of the Dao was born in the region of the Yi and Bo rivers. The Tang dynasty honored him as its imperial ancestor, and the teachings he left behind have brought blessings that endure without end. Historical records already give a detailed account of his life. Daoists say he manifested under the title Jade Dawn; Sima Qian describes him as a gentleman who lived in seclusion. Confucius once studied with him and sought his advice on ritual, praising his De as dragonlike. This shows how deeply Confucius respected Laozi.

Laozi lived for a long time in the Zhou dynasty, then prepared to travel west to teach and transform living beings. Yin Xi, the commandant of Hangu Pass, asked him to write a book, so Laozi composed the two parts of the Daodejing, explaining the foundations by which Dao and De generate and nurture the myriad things. The work’s central teachings can be summed up as self-cultivation and governance. In governing, one should reject self-glorification, ostentation, and harsh rule, and teach through Wuwei (non-action) and few words. In self-cultivation, one should reduce selfishness and desire, and make an open mind and the fulfillment of one’s inner life the priority. As for probing the principles of things and fully manifesting one’s nature, severing external entanglements and quieting distracting thoughts, abiding in genuine practice while adapting skillfully to circumstances, attaining “sitting in forgetfulness” (sitting quietly and forgetting one’s body and distinctions), relinquishing attachment to contemplation, and continually diminishing desire to enter more deeply into the mysterious realm—such practices are difficult to convey in words.

Laozi’s teaching is all-encompassing; its writing is concise, its intent clear, and its language accessible. Those who encounter it only briefly often feel they have already grasped its deeper meaning. Only after studying it closely and reflecting on it repeatedly do they realize that they have understood not even one part in ten thousand of its subtlety.

The Daodejing says: “There is a undifferentiated whole that existed before Heaven and Earth. I do not know its name; I reluctantly call it ‘Dao.’ Reluctantly giving it a name, I call it ‘Great.’” This shows that “Dao” is a provisional name for the utmost emptiness and stillness, the mysterious foundation. It expresses the way this foundation pervades and generates the myriad things. The Zhuangzi says: “At the beginning there was nonbeing.” Here, “being and nonbeing” refers to “being” in relation to the mysterious “nonbeing.” It also says, “There was neither being nor a name,” meaning that before a name was imposed, it had neither fixed form nor name.

Thus the Daodejing says, “The nameless is the beginning of Heaven and Earth,” and then provisionally calls the foundation that pervades all things and enables them to arise “Dao.” Once it has a name, it is the mother of the myriad things. The Zhuangzi says that the generation of the myriad things is called De. “De” carries the meaning of receiving and accomplishing: the many changes between Heaven and Earth, and all things, arise through the mysterious foundation; to receive life is De. Thus Dao is the substance of De, and De is the function of Dao.

The Daodejing is divided into upper and lower sections: the first discusses Dao, and the second De. Yet “substance” and “function” can be distinguished in name alone; in reality they cannot be separated. The Daodejing says, “They emerge together but have different names; together they are called the mysterious.” In their outward expression, Dao and De have two names; when we trace them to their shared source, they form an undivided whole. The two can therefore be distinguished by name, but in reality they cannot be parted. The upper and lower sections repeatedly explain the essentials of Dao and De from different angles, so there is no need to insist on which section each teaching appears in.

“Jing” means a road or an enduring standard: a principle that can be followed and observed at all times. Emperor Xuanzong of Tang often reflected on the teachings and blessings left by the sacred imperial ancestor, and diligently studied and read them amid his affairs of state. Now he has selected one or two of their central points for explanation. Writing cannot fully convey everything expressed in speech; what follows is only a rough outline, intended to help those who study the work.

The Records of Pearl Treasures and Jade Tablets state that the Most High Lord Lao (one of the supreme deities revered in Daoism) descended into the human world to teach and transform people in roughly four circumstances.

First, through many kalpas, Lord Lao took different forms and taught in accordance with the conditions of each place. He had 1,200 names and 180 titles, scattered through various scriptures, where they are recorded and can be verified.

Second, at the beginning of this kalpa cycle, Lord Lao set the Great Dao in motion, bringing Heaven and Earth into being and giving birth to the sun and moon. He was the source from which all things transformed and came to life. He spread primordial Qi (vital energy) and divided the light, enabling all kinds of things to arise. From the beginning of the “Five Primordials”—the stages said in Daoism to precede and accompany the formation of Heaven and Earth—until before the Shang dynasty, Lord Lao appeared in generation after generation as a teacher to rulers. He appeared under names such as Yuhua, Lütu, Guangcheng, and Yinshou, revealing his identity according to the circumstances of each age.

The Three Sovereigns had passed one after another, and the age of the Five Emperors was over. As the times changed, calendars and institutions were repeatedly altered. Systems such as the bird officials and the Fire Virtue gave way like flowing water and shifting winds, and each age had its own way of governing. Society, too, grew gradually less simple and sincere. Although there were still instances of abdication, warfare broke out repeatedly: killing and fighting took place at the Battle of Banquan, and armies were sent to campaign at Danpu. Cunning and deceit arose, and the simple Great Dao disappeared. Once teachings about benevolence became prominent, the categories of filial piety and compassion arose in turn.

The tranquil, profound, ineffable Great Dao gradually declined. In old age, Yao yielded the throne; Shun was appointed only after many trials, and, burdened with concern for the realm, worked diligently at governing. At that time, Lord Lao was known as Master Yinshou. He lived in Heyang and transmitted the Daode Jing (Classic of the Dao and De) to Shun. This is the origin of the classic’s teachings. The Dao takes Wuwei (non-action) as primary; De (Virtue/Power) comes after the Dao. The texts of the Three Sovereigns speak of the Great Dao, while those of the Five Emperors speak of the constant Dao.

The classic further advocates reducing conduct that goes against the Dao, restraining excessive displays of benevolence, cutting back on elaborate rites, curbing clever schemes for outdoing others, opposing the use of military force to commit violence, and suppressing deceitful plotting. It calls for restoring people to simple sincerity and governing through Wuwei and noninterference. Yet Shun still had to rely on his own efforts to govern: he banished the wicked and promoted the worthy, cultivated discernment and attentiveness to counsel, brought harmony to the nine clans, and governed the people well. Even so, he could not fully attain a state of calm equanimity, tranquility, and Wuwei.

Thus, after Yu and Tang, the realm became the hereditary possession of one family at a time. People came to favor their own relatives and give greater weight to their own children. Once the Great Dao had disappeared, profound teachings no longer prevailed; rites and music grew ever more elaborate, and government orders and punishments were increasingly used.

Third, Lord Lao descended as a spirit in the time of Tang Jia of the Shang dynasty. During the reign of Wu Ding, he was conceived in a womb and born in Bo, at the place now occupied by the Taiqing Palace at Jiulong Well in Zhenyuan County. He alternately concealed and revealed himself, secretly teaching people in various places. In the guichou year of King Zhao of Zhou, Lord Lao transmitted the Daode Jing and another classic to Yin Xi, the Keeper of the Hangu Pass, allowing the scriptures to spread throughout the realm and become known to later generations.

Fourth, when Lord Lao’s transformed body was about to travel to the Flowing Sands, he arranged with Yin Xi to meet at the Green Ram Market in western Shu, and manifested himself as being born there. This took place in the dingsi year of King Zhao of Zhou.

Since Laozi taught the Dao De Jing at Hangu Pass, it has been honored and followed throughout the generations. More than sixty virtuous and enlightened rulers, great Confucian scholars, and learned men of later eras wrote commentaries and annotations on it. Among them are:

The Jiejie, in two parts, upper and lower, is traditionally attributed to the Lord Lao (Laozi) and Yin Xi.

The Neijie, also in two parts, was written by Yin Xi as a commentary guided by the principles of inner cultivation.

The Xiang’er, in two volumes, was annotated by Zhang Daoling, the Celestial Master of the Three Heavens.

The Chapters and Phrases by the Lord of the River: Tradition says that during the reign of Emperor Wen of Han, the Lord of the River descended to live beside a river in Shanzhou. His temple still stands there today.

The Pointing to the Meaning by Yan Junping, in fourteen volumes. Yan Junping, whose given name was Zun, was a native of Shu during the Han dynasty.

Wang Bi’s commentary: Wang Bi was from Shanyang. His courtesy name was Fusi, and during the Wei dynasty he served as a Gentleman of the Secretariat.

He Yan’s commentary: He Yan was from Nanyang. His courtesy name was Pingshu, and during the Wei dynasty he served as Commandant of the Imperial Son-in-Law’s Household.

Guo Xiang’s commentary: Guo Xiang was from Henan. His courtesy name was Zixuan, and he was a disciple of Xiang Xiu. He lived during the Wei and Jin periods.

Zhong Hui’s commentary: Zhong Hui was from Yingchuan. His courtesy name was Shiji, and he lived during the reign of Emperor Ming of Wei.

The recluse Sun Deng’s commentary: Sun Deng’s courtesy name was Gonghe. He was a recluse during the reign of Emperor Ming of Wei.

Yang Ku’s commentary: Yang Ku’s courtesy name was Shuzi. He was from Taishan and once served as a Vice President of the Imperial Secretariat under the Jin dynasty. His commentary comprises four volumes.

The Buddhist monk Kumarajiva’s commentary: Kumarajiva was a monk originally from the Western Regions. During the reign of Fu Jian, he entered the Central Plains through Yumen Pass. His commentary comprises two volumes.

The Buddhist monk Fotudeng’s commentary: Fotudeng was a Buddhist monk from the Western Regions during the Later Zhao period. His commentary is in two parts, upper and lower.

The Buddhist monk Sengzhao’s commentary: Sengzhao lived during the Jin dynasty. His commentary comprises four volumes.

Tao Hongjing’s commentary: Tao Hongjing was a recluse during the Liang dynasty, known as Master Zhenbai. He lived during the reign of Emperor Wu. His commentary comprises four volumes.

Lu Yu’s commentary: Lu Yu was from Fanyang. He served as a professor at the Imperial College under the Later Wei and was also known as the White-Headed Old Man. His commentary comprises two volumes.

Liu Renhui’s commentary: Liu Renhui called himself “a minister from the uncultivated fields.” He was from Liang County, Yizhou, under the Later Wei. His commentary comprises two volumes.

Gu Huan’s commentary: Gu Huan was from Wu Commandery. His courtesy name was Jingyi, and during the Southern Qi he served as a professor. His commentary comprises four volumes.

The Immortal of Songling’s commentary: The Immortal of Songling lived in seclusion on Qingxi Mountain. His name and the period in which he lived are unknown.

Pei Chuen’s commentary: Pei Chuen was from Hedong during the Jin dynasty. His commentary comprises two volumes.

Du Bi’s commentary: Du Bi was from Jingzhao in the Qin region. His commentary comprises two volumes.

There is also a commentary in two volumes by a native of Liang County who lived during the Song dynasty, but his name is not recorded here.

Gu Huan, a recruited scholar from Wu Commandery, in the area of present-day Suzhou, whose courtesy name was Jingyi, once served as a Erudition Doctor under the Southern Qi. He annotated the Daode Jing in four volumes.

The immortal Songling lived in seclusion on Qingxi Mountain. His name and the period in which he lived are unknown.

Pei Chuen, a native of Hedong in the Jin dynasty, annotated the Daode Jing in two volumes.

Du Bi, a native of Jingzhao in the Qin dynasty, annotated the Daode Jing in two volumes.

Zhang Ping, a native of Henan in the Song dynasty, whose courtesy name was Changzong, once served as a Erudition Doctor in the Grand Minister of Ceremonies’ office during Emperor Ming’s reign. He annotated the Daode Jing in four volumes.

Emperor Wu of Liang, Xiao Yan, annotated the Daode Jing in four volumes, making the principle of karmic retribution the central aim of his interpretation.

Emperor Jianwen of Liang, Xiao Gang, wrote the ten-volume Exposition of the Meaning of the Dao and De.

Zhang Si of Qinghe annotated the Daode Jing in four volumes. The period in which he lived is unknown.

The Liang dynasty Daoist Zang Xuanjing, whose courtesy name was Daozong, wrote a four-volume commentary on the Daode Jing. Such a commentary further explains the meaning of the scripture.

The Liang dynasty Daoist Meng Anpai, known as the Elder Meng, wrote a two-volume exposition of the meaning of the Daode Jing.

The Liang dynasty Daoist Meng Zhizhou, known as the Younger Meng, annotated the Daode Jing in five volumes.

The Liang dynasty Daoist Dou Lüe annotated the Daode Jing in four volumes. The guiding principles of his work accorded with the teachings championed by Emperor Wu and Kumarajiva.

The Chen dynasty Daoist Zhu Rou wrote the six-volume Mysterious Overview.

The Sui dynasty Daoist Liu Jinxi wrote a six-volume commentary on the Daode Jing.

The Sui dynasty Daoist Li Bo annotated the upper and lower parts of the Daode Jing in two volumes.

Fu Yi, the Grand Astrologer of the Tang dynasty, annotated the Daode Jing in one volume and also wrote a work on pronunciation and meaning, explaining the sounds and definitions of its words.

The Tang dynasty Daoist Wei Zheng of Mount Song wrote the five-volume Essentials and the six-volume Mysterious Overview.

The Sui dynasty Daoist Liu Jinxi wrote a six-volume commentary on the Daode Jing.

The Sui dynasty Daoist Li Bo annotated the upper and lower parts of the Daode Jing in two volumes.

Fu Yi, the Grand Astrologer of the Tang dynasty, annotated the Daode Jing in one volume and also wrote a work on pronunciation and meaning, explaining the sounds and definitions of its words.

The Tang dynasty Daoist Wei Zheng wrote the five-volume Essentials and later served as chancellor to Emperor Taizong of Tang.

The Dharma Master Song Wenming wrote the five-volume Spring of Meaning.

The immortal Hu Chao wrote a ten-volume commentary and exposition of the Daode Jing. According to tradition, he attained the Dao on Western Mountain.

The Daoist Anqiu wrote the five-volume Pointers to the Meaning.

The Daoist Yin Wencao wrote the five-volume Concise Essentials of Meaning.

The Dharma Master Wei Lu, whose courtesy name was Chuxuan, wrote a four-volume work combining annotation and commentary.

The Daoist Wang Xuanbian wrote the ten-volume Heshang Gong’s Explanation of the Meaning, explaining Heshang Gong’s commentary.

Yin Yin, an Admonition Grandee and director of the Su Ming Abbey, wrote the fifteen-volume New Exposition.

The Daoist Xu Miao annotated the Daode Jing in four volumes.

The Daoist He Siyuan of the Hanlin Academy wrote two scrolls of Zhizhi and eight scrolls of Xuanshi.

Xue Jichang, a Daoist of Mount Heng, wrote ten scrolls of Jinsheng and one scroll of Shishu.

Mr. Wang Xi of Hongyuan wrote a two-scroll commentary, as well as two scrolls of Xuanzhu and two scrolls of Koujue.

Master Zhao Jian wrote six scrolls of Jiangshu.

Yang Shangshan, Court Gentleman for Deliberations to the Heir Apparent, lived during the reign of Emperor Gaozong of Tang. He wrote twenty scrolls of Daode Jijuzhenyan.

Jia Zhi, Vice Minister of Personnel, wrote eleven scrolls of Shuyi and one scroll of Jinniu.

The Daoist Che Bi wrote seven scrolls of commentary on the scriptures.

Li Rong, Master of True Practice, wrote a twenty-scroll commentary on Daode Jijuzhenyan, as well as another commentary in two scrolls, upper and lower.

Li Yuanxing, a Daoist of Chengdu, wrote four scrolls of Zhuyi.

Ren Taixuan, Junior Governor of Taiyuan and a Daoist of Tongyi Commandery, wrote a two-scroll commentary.

The Daoist Master Chongxu, Shen Fu, Supervisor of the Palace, wrote five scrolls of commentary.

Zhang Junxiang, a Daoist of Mount Min, wrote four scrolls of Jijie.

The Daoist Cheng Xuanying wrote six scrolls of Jiangshu.

Wang Zhen, Governor of Hanzhou, wrote two scrolls, upper and lower, of Lunbing Shuyi.

The Daoist Fu Shaoming wrote two scrolls of Daopu Ying.

Emperor Xuanzong personally wrote a commentary on the Dao De Jing in two scrolls, upper and lower; there was also a six-scroll Jiangshu.

Wang Guangting, Junior Governor of Taiyuan, wrote two scrolls of Qiyuan Zhu.

The Daoist Zhang Huichao wrote four scrolls of Zhixuan Shu.

Master Gong wrote four scrolls of Jijie.

These are the commentaries that circulated widely at the time. At the end of the original text, it also lists the six-scroll Jiangshu, Wang Guangting’s two-scroll Qiyuan Zhu, Zhang Huichao’s four-scroll Zhixuan Shu, and Master Gong’s four-scroll Jijie, and again says that these were among the commentaries then in wide circulation.

Different schools offer different interpretations of the principles of the Dao De Jing. Some deeply grasp the doctrine of Chongxuan, “Double Mystery,” without clinging to either emptiness or existence. Some become absorbed in causal reasoning and fixate on rebirth through the three ages. Some draw on Confucian teachings to bring the traditions together, while others take the text’s central purpose to be emptiness, stillness, and quietude. They are all like divers entering a dragon palace filled with treasures to seek its pearls, or like climbers ascending Mount Zhong to admire its jades. The precious principles they discover are reflected in their hearts. When they expound and promote them, their words shine like brocade; when they explain and develop them, their literary brilliance interweaves across the page.

As for inner cultivation, an aura like the eightfold jade and snow lingers in the Dantian (the lower abdominal area where Neidan is practiced), while an essence like ninefold refined jade paste gleams in the Vermilion Palace—a name in Daoist texts for the heart or an inner palace of the body. In this way, one comprehends the subtle workings of the six Qi and their cycles, and achieves the aid to cultivation offered by the five numinous powers. The mind does not cling to what it has gained, and the breath becomes deep and unbroken. In the end, one reaches the state of “gaining what cannot be gained” and understands the source from which all things arise and transform.

The state attained through cultivation means casting off even the subtlest burdens of the dust and ascending to a higher rank. One roams freely beyond the eight directions, ascends to the Three Realms, and reaches the state of the Great One, the primordial Great Dao in Daoist teaching. Throughout history, no one has surpassed those able to unite inner cultivation with outer governance, and to serve both humanity and Heaven.

Our dynasty’s Xuanzong, the Emperor of the Way’s Radiance and the Dao’s Illumination, the Bright and Solemn Filial Emperor, was born into the world and inherited a line of succession stretching back to antiquity. He pacified internal rebellion, ascended the throne, and ushered in a revival. During his forty-five years on the throne, he governed the realm through Wuwei (non-action). Without needing to travel by carriage and horse himself, he brought the world to its proper place, as Yao had when he went to the Fen River and the Yellow Emperor when he visited Xiangcheng. The world, vast as the Eight Seas, became a realm of benevolence, longevity, peace, and joy; under Heaven, all was serene as in a dream. His supreme Dao and De shone with a brilliance that inspires profound reverence.

The Emperor honored the classics and made the Dao De Jing the foundation of imperial instruction. Its principles are so profound that no image can adequately represent them and no poem or essay can fully express them. They run through past and present, standing alone between Heaven and Earth. Though many schools have written on the text, none has exhausted its mysteries; though scholars have studied it with great care, none has reached the realm of Double Mystery. When the Emperor’s official duties allowed him a little leisure, he devoted himself to contemplating the classic. He personally wrote a commentary on all eighty-one chapters of the Dao De Jing and composed a six-volume subcommentary. Within, he clarified the foundations of self-cultivation without leaving anything out; beyond, he explained the principles of governing the state, fully addressing matters from the broadest to the most detailed. The Emperor’s writing spread far and wide, its brilliance surpassing the clouds of five auspicious colors; the Son of Heaven’s radiance shone down as though making the sun and moon brighter.

This work can stand beside the Ten Wings and the Zhou Nan and Shao Nan sections of the Book of Songs. It is as though one had personally received the teachings of Laozi and the Most High, and is worthy of ranking above the works of all other schools, enduring through generations without fading. By comparison, songs such as “The Great Wind” and “The Red Wild Goose” cannot stand alongside it, nor can works such as the Dianlun and the Golden Tower be placed on the same level.

In the Emperor’s commentary and subcommentary, however, passages from the classics are cited and their principles brought into dialogue: the Book of Zhou and the history of Lu illuminate one another, while the “Four Beginnings” of the Book of Songs and Zhuangzi’s teachings in the “Garden of the Lacquer Tree” clarify related ideas. Later students often read these works without understanding the sources of such references. I therefore gathered texts from various traditions, studied their passages, and recorded whatever I came to understand, compiling the thirty volumes of the Guangshengyi. This is like keeping a torch burning after the sun has already risen high, or continuing to irrigate after a great marsh has spread across the land. I know my abilities are limited; I have only tried to fill a few gaps.

Written on the sixteenth day of the ninth month, the Jiazi day in the Xinyou year, the first year of the Tianfu era.

Preface by Su Yingbin

When I was forty-two, I was living in Junzhou after being demoted. Though Junzhou was a small place, it had many ancient Buddhist temples, where monks traveling from all over gathered. A monk named Daoquan lived on Mount Huangbo. He was a disciple of Nan Gong, a man of noble character and clear understanding, and he enjoyed my company.

Once, he spoke with me about matters of principle. I said to him, “I have already understood what you are saying from the Confucian classics.” Daoquan replied, “This is the Buddha’s teaching. How could the Confucians understand it?” I answered, “That is not so. I have been fortunate enough to hear the Great Way, and the Confucian classics contain these principles too. Why insist that they do not? They are truly there, though few people understand them. Confucians and Buddhists are like Hu and Han peoples who cannot understand one another’s languages. How, then, could you know this?” Daoquan said, “Please explain it briefly.”

I said, “Confucius’s grandson Zisi wrote the Doctrine of the Mean. It says: ‘When joy, anger, sorrow, and pleasure have not yet arisen, this is called equilibrium. When they arise and each is in due measure, this is called harmony. Equilibrium is the great foundation of all things under Heaven; harmony is the universal Way that they follow. When equilibrium and harmony are attained, Heaven and Earth find their proper places, and all things flourish.’ What are we to make of this?

“The Sixth Patriarch once said: ‘Think of neither good nor evil. This is your original face.’ Since the Sixth Patriarch’s time, many people have awakened to the Buddha’s teaching through these words. To think of neither good nor evil is to remain in the state before joy, anger, sorrow, and pleasure arise. ‘Equilibrium’ is another name for Buddha-nature; ‘harmony’ encompasses the six perfections and the myriad practices—that is, the various methods of Buddhist cultivation and good deeds. When equilibrium and harmony reach their utmost, Heaven, Earth, and all things flourish within them. If this is not the Buddha’s teaching, what is?”

Daoquan listened, astonished and delighted, and said, “At first I did not understand this. Now I see that Confucianism and Buddhism speak of the same principle.” I smiled and said, “That is not quite right either. The principles of the world are indeed not twofold, but the ways of governing people differ. Without rites and laws between ruler and minister, parent and child, society falls into disorder. To understand rites and laws but not the Great Way is merely to be a conventional Confucian scholar, unworthy of respect. A person who withdraws to the mountains, lives on fruit and trees, drinks from mountain streams, and keeps the Great Way in his heart may even serve as a teacher to the people. But if the world were governed in this way, the state would fall into disorder. The sages of antiquity practiced the Great Way in their hearts while leaving the institutions and rites of the world intact. That is what makes it possible.”

Daoquan bowed and said, “These are words of ultimate truth.”

At that time, I was annotating the Laozi. Whenever I completed a chapter, I showed it to Daoquan, and he would always exclaim, “These are all the Buddha’s words.” After I had lived in Junzhou for five years, I returned north. Daoquan died not long afterward. More than twenty years have passed since then. I have revised my annotations to the Laozi from time to time, but I have never found anything in them that conflicts with the Buddha’s teaching. Now there is no one with whom I can discuss these matters. I think of Daoquan and wish I could see him again and show him these annotations. Therefore, I have written this preface at the end of my commentary on the Laozi.

On the tenth day of the twelfth month in the second year of the Daguan era, Ziyou inscribed this.

When I was traveling south to Haikang, I happened by chance to meet my elder brother Zizhan (Su Shi) in Tengzhou. We spent more than ten days together, discussing what we had each studied in earlier years. Zizhan said to me, “My three books, the Commentary on the Odes, the Commentary on the Spring and Autumn Annals, and Ancient History, all discuss matters the ancients never addressed. Only my explanation of the Laozi seems not quite good enough.”

After I arrived in Haikang, I had nothing to occupy me in my quiet retirement, so I revised many of the books I had written earlier. I also made another copy of my explanation of the Laozi and sent it to Zizhan. Later, by the emperor’s grace, I returned north. Zizhan went to Pilin, where he fell ill and never recovered. More than ten years have passed since then, and I have never known whether the book met with his approval.

In the winter of the first year of the Zhenghe era, I came across the Handwritten Legacy of the Late Lord, compiled by my nephew Mai and others. Among its entries was this account: “Yesterday Ziyou sent me his New Explanation of the Laozi. I read it from beginning to end, and when I closed the book, I could not help sighing: Had this book existed during the Warring States period, there would have been no doctrines of the kind advanced by Shang Yang and Han Fei. Had it existed in the early Han, the teachings of Confucius and Laozi would have become one. Had it existed between the Jin and Song dynasties, Buddhism and the teachings of Laozi would not have been regarded as two separate schools. I never imagined that, in my old age, I would still encounter such an extraordinary work.”

Only then did I learn that the book had met with Zizhan’s approval. Yet during the ten years I lived in Yingchuan, I made many further revisions and cuts to these four books. I believe that the words of the sages cannot be fully understood after reading them just once. So whenever I gained a new insight, I dared not treat my earlier interpretation as final. I have now added to and revised the Laozi once more, and I consider it complete. I had hoped to ask Zizhan for his judgment again, but there is no longer any way to speak with him. Here, I can only weep without end.

Preface by Zhao Shian

The original substance, formed at the beginning of primordial unity, lies deep within silent emptiness. The practice of its daily application takes the “Mother of Qi” (the source of the Qi of all things) as its foundation. Above, it follows the formless Dao (the Way): what is formless is alike in its concealment and return to nothingness. Below, it follows formed things: each maintains its own balance and coexists with the others. Those skilled at keeping to the Dao can establish themselves firmly in the realm of the formless and avoid falling into a dead end. Those who embody the “Unity of the Dao” can perceive the subtle workings of change.

The Dao is impartial by nature. All things take shape on their own, in keeping with the Dao’s state of non-domination. Who could say this is the result of deliberate contrivance? The source that brings forth the transformations of all things is received from nature. The Dao moves through all things, yet is neither identical with them nor separate from them. Whoever possesses all under Heaven is called the “Sacred Vessel” (the divine authority that bears the realm), yet must not claim it as personal property. For truly attaining all under Heaven depends on one’s own De (Virtue/Power), which may be expressed as benevolence or righteousness. In assisting the realm, what matters is stillness and clarity; one must not disturb it recklessly.

Seeking the Dao is not difficult: follow the simple path, and you can experience the mystery of “the soundless and formless” (the elusive, imperceptible). Its wondrous transformations cannot be measured. Yet seeking the Dao is not easy either. If one investigates it only through speech or silence, one falls into the distinction between movement and stillness, and thereby obscures the truth completely. Thus being and nonbeing are connected at their root and can be contemplated together. The ways of governing a family and governing a state differ, but their principles should be understood as one.

The two parts of the Dao De Jing (Classic of the Way and Virtue) set out the foundations of the Dao and De. Its chapters are arranged in a number that symbolizes the fullness of Yang Qi. If pure Yin is refined and cultivated in the fire cauldron, the Dao of Qian’s Yang can be brought into harmony with it. Governing the realm should follow Wuwei (non-action); the enlightened ruler takes this as a guiding principle. Although governing a family and governing a state differ, their fundamental principles should still be understood as one.

An ancient saying goes: “One who attains the Dao may be emperor above or king below; one who loses my Dao may shine above, but below will ultimately become dust.” Understanding this Dao depends entirely on inward realization. If one deliberately chisels away at the foundation of one’s true nature, excessive skill will instead lead one away from the Dao. What, then, should one preserve? One should preserve tranquility and solitude, seeking nothing deliberately; the Dao will come of its own accord. What should one attain? Without striving and contriving to obtain it, the Dao will naturally accompany one.

The rulers of remote antiquity governed the realm without knowing that they were practicing the Dao, because the Dao is inherently Wuwei. When the Zhou dynasty declined, there were people skilled at teaching the realm, yet they still did not understand the Dao; principles of righteousness could not reverse the decline of the age. This was why Laozi transmitted the Dao to Yin Xi (Lord Yin). Zhuangzi and Liezi then expounded it further, making it more widely understood in their own time.

Benevolence and righteousness can be used to govern the world, yet the world cannot be brought to lasting peace because they have not been practiced for long. De could have made the age clear and flourishing, but the world’s shallow and deceitful customs are troubling because De has not been explained. Thus the highest principles are still preserved by the sages. How could the teachings called the “Mean” ever have departed from this purpose?

The first part of the Dao De Jing says: “A Dao that can be spoken is not the constant Dao; a name that can be fixed is not the constant name.” The principles of the Dao are therefore deep and hidden, and truly not easy to know. Even the highest form of benevolence and righteousness consists in discerning the principles of Wuwei and action; how could it mean unrestrained behavior without limits? The Three Sovereigns were skilled in using the Dao: they practiced it throughout the day without deliberately speaking of it. The Five Emperors were able to inherit the Dao: they followed the Way of Heaven while making distinctions. In later ages, customs became shallow and people lost the Dao. The problem lay in human beings themselves.

The Book of Changes says: “The Dao of Qian is made clear through ease; the Dao of Kun accomplishes its work through simplicity.” Only by practicing the simple and easy Dao can one accord with the purpose of stillness and Wuwei. If the realm is governed in this way, how could there even be names for order and disorder? Master Gai spoke well: “In governing, the Dao prizes stillness and Wuwei.” This is precisely the purpose set forth in the two parts of the Dao De Jing.

Written at Yuchan Hall on the Shangyuan Festival, in the second year of the Shaoxing era of the Song dynasty (the year Ren Shen).

Preface by Huang Maocai

Laozi’s Dao speaks of riding the clouds upward, reaching straight to the realm of the Limitless, then looking down from on high beyond the eight directions. The affairs of the human world are not enough to entangle his heart. Yet the Laozi also discusses governing the state and caring for the people, the use of arms and the conduct of campaigns, and even small things such as carriages and utensils. Most of these are metaphors drawn from objects. The thought of Laozi and Zhuangzi belongs to the same tradition. Some people know that the Zhuangzi often uses parables, but do not realize that this style also comes from Laozi. As a result, they often fail to grasp the main point when reading the Laozi.

The Laozi says, “Know the masculine, yet keep to the feminine”: understand strength, yet remain with gentleness. It also says, “The valley spirit never dies; this is called the Mysterious Female,” using images of the valley and the mother’s power to give birth to describe the Dao’s ceaseless life. It also says, “Cherish seeking nourishment from the mother,” again using “mother” as a metaphor. Why does Laozi repeatedly speak of the feminine, the female, and the mother? These are all parables. There are many similar expressions in the book’s eighty-one chapters. It is hardly surprising that discrepancies arise if one insists on interpreting them as conforming to the meaning of the Confucian classics of Confucius, Mencius, and the Six Classics.

I have studied this classic for many years, devoting myself to investigating Laozi’s original intent and writing a commentary on it. Where I have been unable to explain matters fully, I have drawn on the Liezi, the Zhuangzi, the Book of Changes, and other Daoist writings, hoping in this way to clear away the chaos and lay bare the principles underlying the beginning of Heaven and Earth, making these ideas clear for later students to consult.

Preface by Xie Tunan

The Daodejing has a long and enduring history as a classic. Before the legend of the green ox carrying Laozi westward and purple qi streaming from the east, before the jade casket and golden key were opened, Laozi had already written five thousand words, revealing the subtle mysteries of what precedes Heaven and explaining the fine principles by which the myriad things come into being. It is mysterious beyond mystery, wondrous beyond wonder; without one who has attained the Dao, it is difficult to understand fully.

The Laozi consists of eighty-one chapters and about five thousand characters. Its meaning flows from beginning to end, and throughout it follows the principles of nature. These principles can be extended to cultivate oneself, govern the state, and bring peace to the world; in this way, the art of governing takes shape. Extended further, they can guide the cultivation of the person and the refinement of Shen (spirit), until Shen is refined and one ascends; in this way, the path to becoming an immortal takes shape.

Zhang Pingshu—that is, Zhang Boduan, a Daoist practitioner of Neidan (internal alchemy)—wrote in a poem: “The precious words of the Yinfu Jing number more than three hundred; the wondrous chapters of the Daodejing contain only five thousand words. Countless immortals throughout the ages have grasped the true Dao through these words.” Could Zhang Pingshu have deceived us?

Yet a fish trap is a tool for catching fish, and the scriptures are a path leading to the Great Dao. Once the fish is caught, the trap can be forgotten; once the Great Dao is understood, the scripture is merely a means of conveying its principles. If one only recites the words of the ancient sages without understanding what lies beyond the words, reading them brings no benefit.

The Huangting Neijing says: “Immortals and Daoists are not born with supernatural abilities. They reach the true state by accumulating Jing (essence) and Qi (vital energy) and continuing their practice.” It also says: “Cultivation does not happen by itself; it depends on earnest and wholehearted effort, as well as steadfast perseverance.” Those who study the Dao and can remain devoted over time without giving up halfway will not fail to succeed. Yet people often lack reverence, and this gives rise to contempt; their faith is not firm, and so slackness follows. For this reason, among tens of millions, only one or two truly attain something.

In ancient times, the Yellow Emperor understood the meaning of the Yinfu Jing from the Immortal Guangcheng and was so moved that he wept in gratitude. Guan Ling Yin Zi—the legendary keeper of the Hangu Pass, Yin Xi—also wept and bowed when he heard the mysteries of the Daodejing from the Venerable Lao. Why did they weep? Because their joy and astonishment ran deep, and their gratitude was boundless. This shows that the book is not easy to encounter, and its principles are not easy to understand. Today, we should recite it with reverence and uphold it throughout our lives, treating it as a supreme treasure and cherishing it as we cherish our original Qi. We must never take it lightly or abandon it.

In the Bingwu year of the Chunyou era, on the Shangyuan Festival, Xie Tunan, also known as Tianyizi of Lianshan, and Nanqiang wrote this preface once more at Qiongtai.

Preface by Yu Qingzhong

The source of the Dao lies in Heaven. Heaven cannot speak for itself, so it must proclaim the Dao through someone capable of explaining it; only then can the Dao’s true nature be revealed. Without such a person, the Dao would remain forever hidden. Does Heaven truly wish the Dao to stay concealed? It is simply that those able to explain it are seldom encountered, even once in a hundred generations. A person like Laozi was surely one such rare figure. Heaven entrusted the Dao to Laozi’s body and mind; the human body and mind are where the Dao takes up residence. Entrusted to a person and then expressed in words, the Dao reveals the profound principles hidden in Heaven and Earth and the mysteries of how creation unfolds.

Thus books came into being: books record words, and words carry the Dao. The five thousand words of the Daodejing speak entirely of the Dao. The Dao is fundamentally one, though it appears in distinct forms across the eighty-one chapters; each chapter nevertheless remains rooted in that foundation. To cultivate the heart with its profound teachings, to nurture the body with its more accessible teachings, and to extend them to the governance of the realm and the state—all proceed from this same fundamental principle.

Once the various schools and traditions each held fast to their own doctrines, they affirmed their own positions and rejected those of others. Yang Xiong criticized Laozi’s teachings, and Ban Gu, too, made severe judgments. As a result, the Daodejing was continually disparaged and classed as heterodox. People failed to consider that, although Confucianism, Buddhism, and Daoism have different names, their principles can be understood in relation to one another.

Long ago, Su Zhe wrote a commentary on the Daodejing and sent it to Su Shi. Su Shi said, “If this book had existed during the Warring States period, there would have been no teachings like those of Shang Yang and Han Fei. If it had existed in the early Han, Confucianism and Daoism would have become one. If it had existed in the Jin and Song periods, Buddhism and Daoism would not have been regarded as two separate traditions.” Can this possibly be a reason to disparage Daoist teachings and treat them as heterodox?

With reverence, I observe that today’s court honors the teachings of the sages and upholds human relationships and moral order. The many spurious writings handed down in Daoist circles have largely been consigned to the flames, while the Daodejing alone has been preserved and continues to shine in the world, like the sun hanging high in the sky. Is this not Heaven’s will? When the music of Zheng and Wei was abolished, the Shao music was held in still greater honor; when rubble is cleared away, a pearl stands out all the more. Perhaps this is Heaven’s intention. In the past, Heaven did not allow the Dao to disappear completely; now it has caused the Dao to be widely proclaimed. Perhaps Heaven hopes that every household will possess this book and everyone will be able to read it.

Yet people may possess this book without truly understanding it; they may explain its words without inwardly grasping their meaning. Is reading and explaining a book merely a matter of words? Words are a means to grasp meaning; once the meaning is grasped, one need not be confined by the words. Throughout the ages, many have recited and explained the Daodejing, and many have written commentaries on it. Yet none have entirely freed themselves from reliance on the text. Some have understood one aspect but missed another; some have presented only its more accessible teachings while overlooking its profound ones. Thus their views have never come together into a complete understanding, nor have they dispelled the doubts accumulated over a thousand years.

I have tried to build on what earlier scholars have already said and to bring out what they left unexplained. For citations and textual evidence, I rely on the classics and historical records; for discussion and interpretation, I take the teachings of the various Confucian thinkers as my foundation. I have titled this book Collected Interpretations of the Daodejing. I do not mean to set myself apart from those who came before. The principles of the world are inexhaustible: the more one seeks, the more one often discovers. I hope that if Laozi could return to life, he would find nothing here to regret. As for the offense of overstepping my proper place, I dare not evade it. May those who share my aspirations study this work closely; perhaps, a thousand years from now, they may meet Laozi, riding his blue ox, in a dream.

Preface to the Illustrations in the Upper Volume of The Great Meaning of the Collected Interpretations of the True Scripture of Dao and De

The Middle Volume of The Great Meaning of the Collected Interpretations of the True Scripture of Dao and De

Master Ningyuan, Supervisor of the Mysterious Marvel Abbey in Changde Circuit

Compiled by Liu Weiyong, known as Moonlit House, of Guanshi

Collated by Ding Yidong of Shitan, former Grand Master for Court Audiences and Registrar of the Court of the Imperial Treasury, concurrently Editor of the Privy Council

Du Guangting says:

The explanation of this scripture falls broadly into two parts: first, an account of why the commentary and subcommentary were written; then, an explanation of the scripture itself. We shall begin with the reason for writing the commentary and subcommentary.

During moments when affairs of state allowed him some leisure, our Great Tang Emperor Xuanzong devoted himself to contemplating the mysterious and marvelous Dao, regarding the Great Dao as the root of all things between Heaven and Earth. The Lord Lao (Laozi) is the sacred ancestor, the Primordial Origin. The Daode Jing expounds the Great Dao and has been transmitted for many years. It is said that its teaching began in the time of Shun and was passed down to the Zhou dynasty. More than sixty scholars have written commentaries, subcommentaries, and explanations of it.

Among those who discussed the art of governing were Yan, Heshang Gong, and Yang Zhu, each of whom grasped something of the teaching. Among those who discussed self-cultivation were the writings of Songling and Xiang’er; the sublime transmission they represent is difficult to equal. Emperor Wu of Liang, Emperor Jianwen, Sengzhao, Kumārajīva, and the various Zang, Tao, and Gu families shone forth in the Southern Dynasties like rosy clouds. In western Shu, scholars such as Ren, Li, and Zhang appeared in profusion like stars. Other commentators who carried on the teachings of their predecessors each had their strengths and shortcomings, yet none fully brought out the meaning of the scripture. Who among them truly glimpsed its depths?

In the eleventh year of the Kaiyuan era, Emperor Xuanzong personally composed a commentary on the scripture. This concludes the account of why the commentary and subcommentary were written. We now turn to the main text. The explanation of the main text is divided broadly into two parts: first, the title of the commentary and subcommentary is explained; then the scripture itself is introduced and its chapters are identified.

What follows is explained according to the outline of the commentary and subcommentary and falls into two parts. The first sets out the chapters, explains the wording, and identifies the general categories. This in turn has two parts: first, the principle expounded by the scripture, namely the two words “Dao and De”; second, the teaching that expresses this principle, namely the word “Jing” (“scripture”). These points will be explained in detail below, in the discussion of the scripture’s title.

The two characters “Dao” and “De” reveal the source from which the Dao brings forth and nourishes all things. They also contain the subtle principles of governing the state and cultivating body and mind; all the teachings to be discussed are encompassed within them. In the past, the Immortal Lord Ge Xuan explained the Daode Jing to Sun Quan, ruler of Wu. The relevant details will be examined later in the discussion of the scripture’s title.

The Immortal Lord Ge Xuan said to Sun Quan: “The Daode Jing is the most subtle and wondrous text between Heaven and Earth. It speaks of the Way of Heaven, the way of humanity, and the way of spirits. Its scope is vast, leaving nothing beyond its embrace; its workings are subtle, reaching into everything. Therefore, it should be followed. As for the general purpose and meaning of this classic, it can roughly be divided into thirty-eight categories.

“First, it teaches the Son of Heaven to govern the state through the Dao of Wuwei (non-action). The Daode Jing says: ‘Set aside claims to sagely wisdom, and the people will benefit a hundredfold. Set aside the labels of benevolence and righteousness, and the people will return to filial piety and compassion. Set aside cunning and the pursuit of profit, and thieves will disappear.’ It also says: ‘In loving the people and governing the state, can you act without action?’ And: ‘When I practice Wuwei, the people transform of themselves.’

“Second, it teaches the Son of Heaven to put the Dao into practice throughout the world. The Daode Jing says: ‘Cultivate yourself through the Dao and put it into practice throughout the world, and De will extend everywhere.’ It also says: ‘Hold fast to the Dao of old and use it to guide all things in the present.’ And: ‘Hold fast to the Great Dao, and the world will come to you.’

“Third, it teaches the Son of Heaven to govern the state through the Dao. The Daode Jing says: ‘When the world is governed through the Dao, spirits will not manifest to cause harm.’ This does not mean that spirits cease to exist, but that their power cannot injure people. It also says: ‘When the world loses the Dao, warhorses breed in the countryside.’

“Fourth, it teaches the Son of Heaven not to act recklessly and to take Heaven and Earth as models. The Daode Jing says: ‘Humanity models itself on Earth, and Earth models itself on Heaven.’ It also says: ‘The Dao is constantly in Wuwei, yet nothing is left undone. If rulers and lords can hold to this principle, all things will transform and develop of themselves.’”

Fifth, the emperor is taught not to look down on the people of the realm because of his honored status and high position. The Dao De Jing says, “Only one who regards himself as equally important as the whole world can be entrusted with the world; only one who regards himself as equally precious as the whole world can be given charge of it.” It also says, “As ruler of a state of ten thousand chariots, how can one treat the world lightly? Treat it lightly, and one loses one’s subjects; act rashly, and one loses one’s throne.” It further says, “The sage does not consider himself great, and so he is able to accomplish greatness.”

Sixth, the emperor is taught not to exalt the reputation of the worthy or prize valuable goods. The Dao De Jing says, “If the worthy are not exalted, people will not contend; if rare and precious goods are not prized, people will not steal.” It also says, “Pursue a state free of greed, and do not prize rare and precious goods.”

Seventh, the emperor is taught to guide the people through Wuwei (non-action) and freedom from desire. The Dao De Jing says, “Always keep the people free of excessive cleverness and desire, so that those who think themselves wise dare not act recklessly. When the ruler practices Wuwei, nothing in the world is left unguided.” It also says, “When I do nothing, the people become prosperous of their own accord; when I have no greed, the people become simple of their own accord.” It further says, “When the ruler is free of desire and remains calm and still, the world naturally settles into order.”

Eighth, the emperor is taught to treat all things equally and not dwell on merit or fame. The Dao De Jing says, “Heaven and Earth have no partiality; they regard the myriad things as straw dogs used in sacrifice. The sage has no partiality; he regards the people as straw dogs used in sacrifice.” It also says, “Practice the teaching that cannot be expressed in words.” It further says, “Act without relying on your own efforts; when the work is done, do not claim it as your own.”

Ninth, the emperor is taught not to become attached to things or cling rigidly to them. The Dao De Jing says, “Forceful action often leads to failure; trying to hold on leads to loss.” It also says, “Remove excess, extravagance, and arrogance.” It further says, “The sage has no fixed opinions; he takes the people’s thoughts as his own.”

Tenth, the emperor is taught to make humility and a lowly position his foundation. The Dao De Jing says, “The noble takes the humble as its root; the high takes the low as its foundation.” It also says, “Forceful action often leads to failure; trying to hold on leads to loss. Remove excess, extravagance, and arrogance. The sage has no fixed opinions; he takes the people’s thoughts as his own.”

Article Ten teaches the Son of Heaven to make humility and yielding the foundation of rule. The Dao De Jing says, “The honored must take the lowly as their root; what is high must rest on what is low.” It also says, “The rivers and seas can gather all the streams and become their rulers because they are skilled at staying below them.” One who can bear a state’s humiliation is fit to be its ruler; one who can take on a state’s calamities is fit to be sovereign under Heaven. A great state should place itself humbly below others. Those skilled at employing people should also be humble. When a great state treats a small state with humility, the small state will submit to it.

Article Eleven teaches the feudal lords to govern their states by upright principles. The Dao De Jing says, “Govern the state by the right Way.” It also says, “To govern a state through cleverness and schemes brings calamity; to govern without relying on cleverness and schemes brings good fortune.” The people are difficult to govern because they have been affected by excessive cleverness and artifice; that is why they are difficult to govern.

Article Twelve teaches the feudal lords not to govern harshly or cruelly. The Dao De Jing says, “Governing a great state is like cooking a small fish: do not turn it too often or interfere excessively.” It also says, “The court is adorned in extravagant splendor, while the fields lie fallow and the granaries are empty. When laws and orders are too exacting and severe, the people become poor and distressed.”

Article Thirteen teaches the feudal lords to assist the Son of Heaven through the Dao and not to glorify military force. The Dao De Jing says, “One who assists a ruler through the Dao does not use military force to dominate the world.” It also says, “Those who rely on arms to impose their strength will not prevail in the end; those skilled at defeating an enemy do not win through struggle. Even when armor and weapons are at hand, there is no need to display or use them. Let the people return to the simple life of tying knots to keep records. Weapons are ill-omened things and should be used only when there is no other choice. Even when victorious, one should not regard victory as something beautiful.”

Article Fourteen teaches the feudal lords to abide by the Dao and guide the people through De (Virtue). The Dao De Jing says, “In ancient times, those skilled in cultivating the Dao were subtle, profound, and penetratingly mysterious.” It also says, “When laws and orders are lenient and not overly exacting, the people can be simple and settled.”

Article Fifteen teaches the feudal lords not to become absorbed in military affairs or use force indiscriminately. The Dao De Jing says that, when speaking of warfare, those skilled in cultivating the Dao in ancient times were subtle, profound, and penetratingly mysterious. When laws and orders are lenient and not overly exacting, the people can be simple and settled.

Fifteenth, teach the feudal lords not to wage war recklessly. The Dao De Jing says that in the art of warfare, there is this saying: “I dare not take the initiative in attacking, but would rather take the role of defender; I dare not advance even a foot, but would rather retreat a yard.” It also says that when two evenly matched armies clash in battle, the side that acts with compassion can prevail. It further says that no calamity is greater than underestimating one’s enemy. A skilled commander does not revel in courage or aggression; one who does not contend for strength can embody the virtue of non-contention even as if raising an arm without having one, or reaching for a weapon without possessing one.

Sixteenth, teach the feudal lords not to prize luxury, and to ease forced labor and taxes so they can nurture the people. The Dao De Jing says that the people go hungry because the rulers levy too much in taxes, and so they starve. It also says that when opportunists become numerous among the people, all kinds of ingenious objects keep appearing.

Seventeenth, teach the feudal lords not to reveal the means and authority by which they govern the state indiscriminately. The Dao De Jing says that fish cannot leave deep water; likewise, the powerful instruments held by the state must not be shown lightly. It also says that rulers of ancient times who were skilled in following the Dao did not seek to make the people clever and crafty, but instead kept them simple and unspoiled.

Eighteenth, teach people to govern the state, cultivate themselves, and honor and practice the “Three Treasures”—the three fundamental virtues described in the Dao De Jing.

The Dao De Jing says: “I have three treasures, which I cherish and hold fast. The first is compassion, the second is frugality, and the third is not daring to put myself ahead of all under Heaven.”

Nineteenth, teach people to cultivate themselves: by yielding and remaining in the rear, one can preserve oneself; by holding to softness and weakness, one can prevail. The Dao De Jing says: “Yielding can preserve one.” It also says: “The soft and weak overcome the hard and strong; the small and weak overcome the great and strong.” It further says: “The soft and weak belong to the way of life; the hard and strong belong to the way of death.” It also says: “Those who act with force and violence often meet an untimely end.”

Twentieth, teach people to nourish body and mind, follow their natural course, refrain from contrived action, and avoid covetousness. The Dao De Jing says: “By always remaining free of desire, one can observe the subtle.” It also says: “When things that stir desire are not put on display, the heart is not disturbed.”

Article Twenty-One discusses cultivating oneself, safeguarding the nature of the Dao, and regulating primordial Qi so that life remains whole. The Dao De Jing says, “Attain utmost emptiness; keep steadfastly still.” This means making the mind clear and empty to the highest degree, and abiding in calm without wavering. It also says, “Focus the Qi and become supple”: regulate primordial Qi with single-minded attention until body and mind reach a gentle state. “Nourish the belly, not the eyes; let go of the one and take up the other” means valuing inner fullness rather than being drawn along by outward sights and sounds, and setting aside the latter in favor of the former. “Know the bright, keep to the dark” means understanding what is conspicuous and honored while holding to what is hidden and humble. “Know the child, keep to the mother” means understanding the branches and details of the myriad things, but above all holding to their source. “Continuous, as if present; use it without strain” means that the Dao’s activity goes on without end, seeming to be there and not there, yet is never exhausted by forced effort.

Article Twenty-Two discusses cultivating oneself, honoring good conduct, and putting aside harmful conduct. The Dao De Jing says, “When everyone under heaven recognizes beauty as beauty, ugliness is already there; when everyone recognizes goodness as goodness, what is not good is already there.” This means that once people identify something as beautiful, they create its opposite, ugliness; and once they identify an action as good, they establish its opposite, what is not good. It also says, “Those who are always good at guiding people abandon no one, and those who are always good at dealing with things discard nothing.” This means being skilled at guiding and helping people, without readily giving up on anyone, and at dealing with the myriad things, without readily discarding anything. “The good person is the teacher of the person who is not good” means that a good person can serve as a teacher to someone who is not good. “Blunt the sharpness; untangle the knots” means restraining one’s edge and resolving disputes. “Highest goodness is like water” means that the highest goodness is like water: it nourishes the myriad things without contending.

Article Twenty-Three discusses cultivating oneself, taking the accumulation of De as one’s foundation. The Dao De Jing says, “One who holds De in abundance,” referring to deep inner virtue. It also says, “Highest De is like a valley,” meaning that the highest virtue is like a valley: humble and embracing. “A great person rests in what is substantial, not what is shallow; dwells in what is real, not what is showy” means that a person of De stands on sincerity and substance rather than pursuing shallowness, and values what is genuine rather than what is ostentatious. “The noble person travels all day without leaving the baggage wagon” means that a noble person goes about the whole day without leaving behind the fundamental support on which they rely. A “baggage wagon” originally referred to a vehicle carrying provisions and equipment on a military march; here it serves as a metaphor for a foundation that must not be neglected.

Article Twenty-Four discusses cultivating oneself by wholeheartedly and diligently seeking the Dao. The Dao De Jing says, “When a person of the highest capacity hears the Dao, they diligently practice it.” It also says, “Courageous in not daring, one survives,” meaning that one can preserve oneself by having the courage to remain humble and refrain from forcing one’s way forward.

Article Twenty-Five discusses cultivating oneself by forgetting fame and achievement and avoiding immersion in worldly learning. The Dao De Jing says, “Abandon learning, and be free of worry,” urging people to free themselves from learning bound by worldly distinctions, so that their minds may suffer fewer troubles. It also says, “When the work is done and the name established, withdraw,” and “Accomplish the work without claiming credit”: once a task is complete and one’s reputation established, one should step back and not claim the achievement as one’s own. “Practicing the Dao, one diminishes day by day” means that cultivating the Dao requires gradually reducing selfish desires and attachments. “Which is dearer, fame or oneself?” reminds people to consider which deserves greater care: their reputation or their own person.

Twenty-sixth, teach people to cultivate themselves without coveting worldly gain. The Dao De Jing says: Which is more precious, the body or material possessions? Which brings greater anxiety, gaining or losing? It also says: Excessive attachment to what you love will exact a great price; storing up too much will bring heavy losses. And it says: Rare and hard-to-obtain goods can make people behave irrationally.

Twenty-seventh, teach people to cultivate themselves by keeping clear of worldly display and not showing off their abilities. The Dao De Jing says: Those who do not deliberately put themselves on display can see clearly; those who do not boast can accomplish their work; those who are not self-important can develop their abilities. It also says: The best speaker seems not to speak well; the most skillful person seems clumsy; a person of broad virtue seems somehow lacking; the grandest music sounds almost silent. And it says: Those who can overcome themselves are truly strong.

Twenty-eighth, teach people to cultivate themselves without seeking glory or favor. The Dao De Jing says: Being favored or disgraced can both unsettle the mind and spirit. It also says: When holding a vessel, filling it to the brim is not as good as stopping in time; sharpen a blade too much and it cannot stay sharp for long. And it says: Wealth and rank accompanied by arrogance bring misfortune upon oneself.

Twenty-ninth, teach people to cultivate themselves by showing less off their knowledge and speaking with care. The Dao De Jing says: Knowing that there is something you do not know is wisdom; not knowing yet thinking that you know is a failing. It also says: Speaking too much often leads to difficulty; better to keep to inner calm. A rash promise will be hard to keep; taking things too lightly often brings more difficulties. And it says: Close the openings of the senses and shut the gates of desire, and you will be free from disturbance throughout your life.

Thirtieth, teach those who leave ordinary life to cultivate the Dao: the signs of Daoist practice run counter to worldly expectations. The Dao De Jing says: Ordinary people seem clever and perceptive, while I alone seem dull; ordinary people make fine distinctions, while I alone seem indistinct and unrefined. It also says: Those who understand the Great Dao seem ignorant; those who walk the Great Dao seem to turn back.

Thirty-first, teach those who leave ordinary life to cultivate the Dao that nurturing the spirit is essential, and can enable one to live forever without dying. The Dao De Jing says: “The Valley Spirit never dies; this is called the Mysterious Female.” The Valley Spirit refers to the Dao, which is empty and still yet able to give life and nurture the myriad things; the Mysterious Female refers to the profound maternal source. The scripture also says: “I alone seem dull.” While ordinary people are discerning and perceptive, I alone seem indistinct and unrefined; those who understand the Great Dao seem ignorant, and those who walk the Great Dao seem to turn back.

Article Thirty-One teaches people to leave ordinary household life and practice cultivation, nourishing and protecting their spirit so they can live long and avoid death. The Dao De Jing says, “The spirit of the valley never dies; this is called the Mysterious Female, the deep source that gives life to all things.” It also says, “Deeply rooted and firmly established: this is the way to long life and enduring vision.” And it says, “What is well established cannot be uprooted; what is well held will not slip away.”

Article Thirty-Two teaches people to understand body and life: by caring well for life, they can enjoy longevity and avoid an untimely death. The Dao De Jing says, “Though the body dies, the spirit does not perish; this is what it means to live long.”

Article Thirty-Three teaches people to cultivate themselves without clinging to themselves, acting in accord with nature. The Dao De Jing says, “Put yourself last, and you will come to the fore; do not prize yourself too highly, and you will preserve yourself.”

Article Thirty-Four teaches people to regulate the mind and, with an empty and still heart, apprehend the Great Dao. The Dao De Jing says, “Make the mind empty and still; soften the will.”

Article Thirty-Five teaches people how to conduct themselves in the world: harmonize with external things and do not show off your sharpness. The Dao De Jing says, “Lessen your brightness and mingle with the dust of the world.” It also says, “The Great Dao flows everywhere; it can be followed to the left or to the right.” And it says, “Wear coarse clothes while holding jade within.” This means appearing plain on the outside while possessing genuine ability and De within.

Article Thirty-Six teaches people to set aside desires, act with restraint, and remain humble without showing off their sharpness. The Dao De Jing says, “The five colors dazzle the eye; the five notes dull the ear; the five flavors spoil the palate; hunting and racing on horseback unsettle the mind.” It also says, “When the people no longer fear authority, true authority will arrive.”

Article Thirty-Seven teaches people to reduce excess and make up for what is lacking. The Dao De Jing says, “Use what is in surplus to supply what is insufficient.” It also says, “The more you give to others, the more you have yourself; the more you give to others, the more you gain.”

Article Thirty-Eight teaches that cultivating oneself in accord with the Dao brings corresponding protection. The Dao De Jing says, “Walking on land, one does not encounter a charging rhinoceros or tiger; entering battle, one is not harmed by weapons.” It also says, “Because he has not put himself in a place of death.”

Here, thirty-eight aspects are listed to explain the principles set forth in the Dao De Jing. Yet the principles of this Jing are vast enough to encompass everything, and subtle enough to reach into the finest details. How could their essential points be fully expressed in only thirty-eight categories? To preserve and clarify the meaning of the Jing, this text gives only a concise outline. Compared with the subtlety of the Dao, what is said here amounts to less than one ten-thousandth.

The Book of Rites says, “The Dao cannot be left for even a moment; what can be left is not the Dao.” A ruler without De is like a person without eyes; a minister without De is like a body without its five inner organs; and a household governed without De is like a lifeless corpse without breath. From this we can see that the Dao is indispensable to human beings. As for going beyond words and teaching, and using the mind and spirit to perceive a realm that is profound upon profound and subtle upon subtle, this can only be grasped inwardly; words cannot convey it. This is the utmost reach of the Dao.

Wang Yuanze said, “The Dao is originally one, but it is spoken of in two ways. These two are ‘Being’ and ‘Nonbeing.’ ‘Nonbeing’ is the root of the Dao, what is called the ‘mystery’; ‘Being’ is the end of the Dao, what is called the ‘manifestations’—its boundaries and traces as they appear.”

Wang Yuanze says: The Dao is originally one, yet there are two ways of describing it: “nonbeing” and “being.” Nonbeing is the root of the Dao, its profound and subtle aspect; being is its outward end, the realm that can be manifested and examined. Thus the root of the Dao arises from emptiness and obscurity, while its manifestations are dispersed among concrete things such as forms, names, and measures. Though these two aspects differ, they belong to the same Dao. People are often misled by appearances and mistakenly believe the two to be separate. This is because the empty and obscure aspect is usually assigned to “nonbeing,” while forms, names, and measures are assigned to “being.” People assume that being and nonbeing cannot exist together, and so fail to see the Dao in its entirety.

“Nonbeing” is called the beginning of Heaven and Earth; “being” is called the mother of the myriad things. Though they have different names, the two are always acting upon one another. They are like things moving in opposite directions, yet neither can do without the other: without being, nonbeing cannot be revealed; without nonbeing, being cannot manifest. The transformations of being and nonbeing alternate, entering and emerging, yet never depart from the Dao. This is what the sages call “mystery.” The Book of Changes says: “Without thought or action, still and unmoving; when stirred, it can comprehend the principles of all things under Heaven.” This describes precisely that state.

The sages of antiquity contemplated the subtlety of the Dao with a mind free of thought and action. When moved in response, they understood the principles of all things under Heaven and thereby discerned the Dao’s manifestations. They grasped both the subtle and the manifest, without becoming attached to either. Who could do this without attaining a state of mystery? Here we can also see the Way of the sages: contemplating the subtle can bring one to the depths of mystery; observing the manifest can reveal transformation. To plumb mystery and understand transformation is to reach the highest point of the Way of Heaven and Earth.

Yet contemplating the subtle is only a means of plumbing mystery; it is not mystery itself. True mystery has never departed from being and nonbeing, but neither of these is enough to give it a name. Hence the saying, “The two emerge together but have different names.” “Together” means that both arise from mystery; “different” means that they are called being and nonbeing respectively. The sages understand this and cultivate their De until it reaches the numinous. Dwelling in nonbeing, they can perceive the Dao’s subtlety; dwelling in being, they can recognize its manifestations. Ultimately, they are not constrained by the names being and nonbeing. From this they can understand, above, the root of Heaven and Earth, and respond, below, to the arising of the myriad things.

Alas, Laozi’s teachings do indeed accord with the Book of Changes. But why, in the end, can Laozi not be ranked alongside Confucius and Mencius? The sages did not wish to speak about the Dao for its own sake. They spoke in response to the transformations of the world, to guide people of ordinary ability who had not yet understood the principles. The Dao embraces both being and nonbeing, but the sages’ writings discuss being in greater detail and nonbeing more briefly. The Odes, the Documents, the Rites, the Music, and the Spring and Autumn Annals mostly explain concrete matters. As for nonbeing, only the Book of Changes discusses it. Even there, however, its principles are conveyed through concrete subjects such as the lines and images, fortune and misfortune, remorse and regret. Learners begin with concrete things and understand the principles of being; from there they go deeper, passing beyond the functions of objects to grasp the principles of nonbeing. In this way, the wise can become more certain, while those of duller ability will not be made doubtful by what they find difficult to understand.

The sages considered that the subtlety of the Dao was beyond the reach of ordinary people, and that those who truly reached it would understand naturally, without waiting for words. To ignore this and speak only of subtlety would leave learners bewildered. The Laozi understood that being and nonbeing act upon one another, yet regarded nonbeing as the root; accordingly, it discusses nonbeing at length and being only briefly. But nonbeing is beyond words to begin with, so how could it be discussed at length?

Laozi’s view already differs from those of Confucius and Mencius, and Wang Bi further misinterpreted Confucius’s intent. Wang Bi took “the nameless” to mean the beginning of Heaven and Earth. Yet the numinous is the hardest thing in Heaven and Earth to name, and people throughout the world already call it “numinous.” Can there really be anything that cannot be named at all? Wang Bi also interpreted “always without desires” as meaning that one relies on desire to observe the Dao’s manifestations. But strong desires injure one’s nature. The Book of Changes says to curb anger and restrain desire, and the Laozi likewise says not to display desirable things, lest they disturb the mind. If one indulges desire, one will become lost in the currents of life and lose oneself, chasing external things without knowing what to hold fast to. How, then, could one observe the Dao’s manifestations? To fail to understand these points and yet claim to grasp the whole of Heaven and Earth and the great principles of the ancients is truly laughable.

Liu Zhongping said: “The constant name” takes having no fixed direction and being everywhere as its substance; “the constant Dao” takes having no fixed form and acting everywhere as its function. If one regards the Dao that is everywhere as something that can be fully understood, and claims to know the whole pattern of Heaven and Earth and the great principles of the ancients, that is truly laughable.

Being everywhere means there is no place that can confine it; acting everywhere means there is no event that can fix it in a particular form. Whatever can be explained clearly and given a name is not the directionless, formless Dao meant here. Hence it is said: “A Dao that can be spoken is not the constant Dao; a name that can be named is not the constant name.”

In the beginning, being and nonbeing had not yet been distinguished. There was neither being nor name: this is the Great Beginning. The Great Beginning is the source of Heaven and Earth, so it is said, “The nameless is the beginning of Heaven and Earth.” Heaven and Earth, in turn, are the parent of the myriad things, so it is said, “The named is the mother of the myriad things.” To speak of a “mother” is to know that the “beginning” is like a father; to speak of a “beginning” is also to know that the “mother” gives birth to and nurtures the myriad things. Thus, the passage above speaks of the beginning of Heaven and Earth, while the passage below speaks of the mother of the myriad things.

Yet the principles of the world include both the Dao as commonly understood and the constant Dao, and both names as commonly understood and the constant name. What is called being and nonbeing in the Great Beginning refers only to “nonbeing”; what is called namelessness refers only to “name.” For once being and nonbeing are spoken of, they have already entered the realm of what can be named. Thus “the nameless” refers only to the beginning of Heaven and Earth; beyond it, there is another source.

“Mystery” is the Dao’s root; its “outer manifestation” is the Dao’s end and visible expression. The sage contemplates the Dao’s profound mystery through constant nonbeing, and its boundaries and visible expression through constant being. Hence it is said: “Ever without desire, one observes its mystery; ever with desire, one observes its outer manifestations.” The “mystery” is within, while the “outer manifestations” are more apparent. When mystery is mentioned, one knows that outer manifestations are coarser; when outer manifestations are mentioned, one also knows that mystery lies within.

“Constant nonbeing” is not nonbeing set against being; it takes being as no counterpart. “Constant being” is likewise not being set against nonbeing; it takes nonbeing as no counterpart. What is not set against nonbeing is not being in the ordinary sense, and what is not set against being is not nonbeing in the ordinary sense. Thus constant nonbeing may be called true nonbeing, but it is not emptiness; constant being may be called wondrous being, but it is not a concrete being that can be grasped. Both arise from the same deep mystery and both return to it.

Zhuangzi says: “It is established through constant nonbeing and being, and expressed through the Great One.” Here, “constant nonbeing and being” should be read as “constant nonbeing, constant being”: constant nonbeing is used to contemplate the Dao’s mystery, while constant being is used to contemplate its visible expression. To contemplate mystery, one takes constant nonbeing as the foundation; to contemplate outer manifestations, one takes constant being as the foundation. If both “outer manifestations” and “mystery” are understood as letting go of distinctions and observing without desire, then establishing through constant nonbeing and being means allowing the mind and spirit to merge with the Dao. This is called “mystery upon mystery”: it does not merely mean that both are equally mysterious. “Mystery upon mystery” is the gateway from which all wonders arise.

“Darkness” is the substance of mystery, while “wonder” is its function. Wonder is precisely what emerges together from that which transcends mystery as it is ordinarily understood.

I believe that Laozi spoke of the Dao and De in response to Yin Xi’s request, speaking spontaneously and setting his words down in writing. He did not divide them into chapter after chapter. Later generations arranged the work into two volumes to symbolize the subtle workings of the two modes, Yin and Yang. They then divided it into eighty-one chapters to correspond to the sun’s highest number, hoping ultimately to bring all its teachings together as one. For this reason, it is called a “comprehensive treatise.” Yet the Dao’s subtle workings are difficult to grasp fully through thought and difficult to discuss in words. It is boundless, beyond the power of images or language to explain.

The opening of the Dao De Jing says, “The Dao that can be spoken is not the constant Dao,” showing that the Great Dao cannot be sought through human feelings and thoughts. Its conclusion says, “True words are not beautiful; those who are good do not argue,” showing that the Great Dao cannot be conveyed by words alone. The Dao is profound and inexhaustible, beyond our measure. The more we look up to it, the higher it seems; the more we try to reach its depths, the farther away it seems, as though it were impossible to attain, like ascending to Heaven.

Yet its essential teaching is simply to empty the heart-mind completely and remain steadfast in stillness and purity. This should be easy to understand and practice, but few in the world truly understand or put it into practice. They open their senses, pursue external things, and keep busy responding to one matter after another. Those of ancient times who were skilled in cultivating the Dao gathered in their senses and closed the gates of the heart. They put an end to confused talk, untangled knots, and kept their heart and spirit from scattering, settling into the Dao and returning to the source of emptiness and stillness, thereby restoring the root of nature and life.

It is like the way all things grow from their roots and eventually return to them. Once one returns to the root and restores one’s original nature, De can be cultivated again. When De reaches its original state, one returns to simplicity and becomes one with the Dao. It endures without end, yet is difficult to name. Returning to a state without form or substance, it neither arises nor perishes; there is no self and no name. Life and death, presence and absence, are governed by one’s own source, and movement in and out proceeds without obstruction.

Therefore, the Dao cannot be pursued, nor can its appearance or concealment be predicted. It cannot be called near or distant, beneficial or harmful, noble or lowly. Through this, those who cultivate the Dao can let go of external things and worldly entanglements, rising beyond Heaven and Earth, the transformations of Yin and Yang, and the limits of fate. Great sages and spiritual beings could not attain such a state without this path. Those who understand it find it difficult to speak of; those who truly practice it can experience it for themselves. The effort required is small, yet the results are great. This teaching is indeed profound and subtle. Students should grasp it silently and cultivate it deeply. Without personally going deep and gaining experience, seeking it only through observation and debate is like sitting at the bottom of a well and looking at the sky. How could one glimpse even the outline of the Great Dao and De?

Zhao Shian says: The mysterious substance of the Dao is empty, still, and formless. The teachings of Daoism were established before Heaven and Earth had opened. The utmost truth of the Dao revealed its signs, and the Dragon-Han era—the primordial cycle of tribulations in Daoist legend—saw the opening of the scriptural teachings. Masters and disciples passed them down in an unbroken line, through three generations. Cycles of tribulation succeeded one another, and worldly affairs became entangled, continuing until the ninth cycle. If one is always gazing at the sky from the bottom of a well, how could one glimpse the general contours of the Dao and De?

Zhao Shian says: The mysterious substance of the Dao is empty, still, and formless. The teachings of Daoism were established before Heaven and Earth had opened. The utmost truth of the Dao revealed its signs, and the Dragon-Han era saw the opening of the scriptural teachings. Masters and disciples passed them down in an unbroken line, through three generations. Cycles of tribulation succeeded one another, and worldly affairs became entangled, continuing until the ninth cycle.

When Taiji (the Supreme Ultimate) first divided and chaos first opened, Heaven and Earth were created. Affairs were few, and the people were simple and honest. The Three Sovereigns arose, making implements and taking the patterns of Heaven and Earth as their models. In those days, people knew neither cunning nor deceit. How could there have been anything called ritual propriety? Later, as the cycles of tribulation gradually declined, the ways of simplicity were lost. It was not that the scriptures had failed to appear, but that their words had not yet been made manifest.

The highest teachings were first transmitted to the Youyu clan—that is, Shun—and ultimately brought about an age of peace and order. Later, they were passed on through the golden mouth to the Ji house of Zhou, and the profound scriptures were thereby widely acclaimed. Though emperors of many generations expounded them repeatedly, Laozi also personally transmitted them to Yin Xi, the Guardian of the Pass. Emperor Xuanzong of Tang personally wrote a commentary on the scriptures and issued an edict urging every household to keep copies. Later, the reverence shown them at the ancestral temple of Emperor Huizong further elevated the tradition’s great canonical works through wise pronouncements. People of that time admired the scriptural teachings as though they dwelt in the Beginning Blue Heaven, the Daoist realm of pure and wondrous heavens. Generation after generation received their blessings, allowing Daoism to shine in the world for a long time.

As for the many schools that wrote commentaries on the scriptures, their volumes piled up until they filled cart axles. Each devoted all its effort to explaining the profound meaning of the texts. Without the Ming dynasty, it might have been difficult to put the scriptures into practice in a truly faithful way. Heaven did not allow the way of the sages to fall into extinction; therefore, in every age, Daoism ought to enjoy a period of flourishing. I still regret that Daoist learning long lacked works that explained the scriptures. So I have divided the whole book into three parts and arranged its topics, hoping readers will be able to study the whole work in an orderly way.

I venture to hope that the mysterious Dao will grant insight from the unseen realm. I now explain this scripture by dividing it, in brief, into ten sections: first, the reasons the teachings arose; second, the division and consolidation of the teachings; third, clarifying the central teaching and reaching its ultimate purport; fourth, Heaven, humanity, and lines of transmission; fifth, the scope encompassed by the Three Caverns (Dongzhen, Dongxuan, and Dongshen); sixth, clarifying the scripture’s excellence; seventh, the periods when the Dao’s cycles opened; eighth, general discussion and distinctions; ninth, the circumstances that prompted the response and the questions asked; and tenth, dividing the text into chapters according to the scripture.

First: the reasons the teachings arose.

Tradition holds that the ordering principles of the Dao began with Fuxi, passed through Yao, Shun, Yu, and Tang, and reached a broadly complete form only in the Zhou dynasty. After King You and King Li of Zhou, the royal house gradually declined. By the time Laozi lived, the realm was in turmoil, lacking guiding institutions and the refinement of ritual and music. Sages no longer appeared, recluses each held to their own doctrines, and every kind of disorder spread unchecked. Wars were brutal, and the people suffered. Grieved by the Zhou court’s decline and people’s loss of their original nature, Laozi wanted them to return to simplicity and naturalness, to the unadorned ways of ancient times. He therefore wrote the Dao De Jing. He advocated loyalty and trustworthiness, prized honesty and simplicity, and urged people to set aside ritual conventions and discard contrived displays of sagacity. In this way, later generations might see again the pure and simple character of Heaven, Earth, and nature, and preserve the complete way of life that people of old had possessed.

Laozi and Confucius lived in the same era. Confucius once went to Zhou to inquire about ritual. He spoke repeatedly in favor of trustworthiness and humility. He did all he could to proclaim benevolence and righteousness, traveling from state to state; often he was on his way again before the mat beneath him had grown warm. Yet none of the rulers of his time ever employed him. He therefore said, “The phoenix does not come, and the Yellow River yields no chart. I suppose my life will end this way.” Some say that Laozi lived as the Zhou court was declining, yet though he did not speak grandly about Dao and De, he failed to see that Confucius’s open advocacy of benevolence and righteousness could not change the course of the age. In fact, “Dao” is an encompassing term for benevolence and righteousness. If benevolence and righteousness cannot be put into practice, how can one speak of Dao? Perhaps this is where the Daoist religion began.

II. An Account of the Division and Reunion of the Schools

Many people throughout the realm spoke of Dao, yet they were probably no more able to change the course of the age. “Dao” is an encompassing term for benevolence and righteousness. If benevolence and righteousness cannot be put into practice, how can one speak of Dao? Perhaps this is why religious teaching arose.

People speak of the Dao (the Way) in many ways, but broadly these fall into two views. One holds that the Dao is emptiness, serenity, and stillness; the other holds that it is ritual propriety, laws and standards, and the governance of public affairs. Those who esteem emptiness and serenity are regarded as having lofty attainments, while those who follow ritual propriety and laws are regarded as acting in accordance with the middle way.

If people of lofty attainment are seen as having transcended the world, they withdraw to mountain caves and accept a life of hardship and solitude. The people of the world can then receive none of their beneficence. Such people set themselves apart from worldly affairs and refuse to be burdened by the secular world, as though even the whole world were not worth their concern. They are therefore called “Perfected Ones”—people of the highest moral attainment. If those who follow the middle way are seen as people who govern worldly affairs, they cultivate ritual and music, bring human relationships into proper order, carefully weigh measures and quantities, and establish laws and standards. The people are governed through these measures, so such people put the Dao into practice and bring relief to the world. Yet once they take up the work of governing worldly affairs, some refuse to discuss in writing the ancient age when Heaven and Earth were still undivided. They live within the secular world and are called “worthy people.”

The boundary between these two kinds of people thus seems firmly drawn, as though they were ice and charcoal, incapable of mingling. Alas, can this really be the understanding of someone who knows the Great Dao? It is simply a failure to think the matter through. Lofty transcendence and conduct in accordance with the middle way both belong to the Dao of the sage and arise from the same heart. The sage’s De (Virtue/Power) is complete; whether in seclusion or in public service, the sage never departs from the principles of inner cultivation and governing all under Heaven.

The emptiness, serenity, and stillness described above are not merely a way to leave the secular world and escape its burdens. They are a means of nurturing one’s true nature. The Classic of Changes says, “Through the ignorant and immature, cultivate what is correct: this is the work of the sage.” That is, cultivating the correct way amid ignorance is the work by which one becomes a sage. Cultivating oneself in seclusion, before one has appeared in the world, is called “inner sageliness”; establishing undertakings and accomplishing great deeds is called “outer kingship.” Emptiness may seem to involve doing nothing, yet it is the root of every function. Serenity may seem bland and without flavor, yet it can become the source of every flavor under Heaven. Stillness is a state of utmost quiet, and also the pivot for governing movement and change. When De is perfected in this way, one can then emerge and govern the world.

Thus, gather things in accordance with ritual, regulate conduct in accordance with rightness, make laws in response to human circumstances, and establish standards by observing the Way of Heaven. In this way, the principles of governing all under Heaven are fully revealed. Do these measures not arise from human nature? To exhaust one’s nature is to know Heaven; when one’s nature is clear, one can reach the Dao. The Canon of Yao praises Yao for being “reverent, enlightened, cultured, and thoughtful,” and says his achievements in government reached the state of Wuwei (non-action). The results of Wuwei all have their root in the Dao. How could the Dao and worldly affairs be two entirely separate things?

Feelings arise from nature. When nature becomes divided, it appears as feelings, just as rippling water forms waves; when the waves subside, what remains is still water. At root, they are not different. To claim that the lofty Dao and the middle way stand opposed is not the intent behind the sages’ writings and teachings. It is simply a failure to think the matter through.

Laozi saw the Zhou dynasty in decline, De growing weak, and people losing their nature and genuine feelings. He therefore wrote two books, the upper and lower sections, expounding the complete Great Dao in order to correct the errors of later generations. Later readers did not understand his intent. They divided his teaching into two kinds of learning, one within the secular world and one beyond it. They also claimed that the middle way and the lofty Dao were respectively right and wrong, or chose one and rejected the other. From the Three Dynasties onward, scholars each clung to one side: some confined themselves to a single region, others understood only one corner of the subject. Without a comprehensive and impartial grasp, how could anyone deeply understand the principles of governing the world? Perhaps only a sage whose understanding is open and all-embracing can truly know them.

Emperor Wen of Han made earnest simplicity a model for the whole realm, yet the results of his governance were limited. The Jin dynasty esteemed abstract talk, ruined public morals, and in time moved toward its own destruction. I believe this is why the Great Dao is so difficult to understand and put into practice. Some people obtain a copy of Laozi’s book and read it, but, bewildered by it, conclude that it cannot be the teaching of a sage. Can this really be called understanding De and the Dao?

The five thousand words of the Dao De Jing can be divided according to their functions into three kinds: the Dao of Wuwei, the Dao of longevity, and the Dao of governing the world. If the Great Dao is said to be emptiness, then the methods for governing the world are also contained within that emptiness. If governing the world is said to be the Great Dao, then governance is only one of the effects produced by the Great Dao. Methods for governing the mind and cultivating one’s nature, along with the refinement of the Golden Elixir through liquid gold—terms associated with Daoist Neidan cultivation—cannot simply be reduced to the same principle.

Only when we are not attached to words can our thinking truly become clear. Then we will understand that the upper and lower sections of the text accord with each other and can bring all methods into a single thread. By applying the skillful means of “upaya”—adaptable and expedient methods—one can find a way through everything.

The Daodejing says that all discourse should have a basis, while the Zhuangzi says that one cannot depart from the basis. The basis meant here is the shared fundamental source of Heaven and humanity. An account should follow the order of things; therefore, discussion of the Dao (the Way) must be orderly. Without following a sequence, how could one make the Dao clear? First explain the guiding principle and its ultimate aim, then trace the beginning and explain the end.

In writing the Daodejing, Laozi speaks first of the Dao, then of De (Virtue/Power). In discussing the transformations of things, the Zhuangzi speaks first of Heaven, then of the Dao and De. The Zhuangzi follows the order in which things unfold, so it begins by explaining Heaven; Laozi’s work follows the levels of the Dao, so it opens with the Dao.

The Dao takes having no fixed source as its source, and having no fixed origin as its origin. When sages compose scriptures, they make their underlying basis their guiding principle. Since that basis is the Dao, they take the Dao as their central principle. The nature of the Dao is profoundly obscure and mysterious: at the furthest reach of constancy, its subtle principle appears; when that principle is carried to its utmost, it returns to nothingness. Thus the constant Dao cannot be named, and a constant name points to no specific thing. Being returns to nonbeing, and being and nonbeing ultimately converge. Once the mysterious realm is reached, the principles of things can all be set aside. Only upon entering this state of forgetting both sides does “profound mystery upon profound mystery” (the deeper mystery that transcends the extremes of being and nonbeing) become apparent.

Good and evil first divide into six pairs of opposites; subtle insight swiftly turns toward Wuwei (non-action). When the Dao manifests, it can transform in every direction; when gathered inward, it is still and open. In truth, the foundation of the Dao lies in Wuwei. The coexistence of form and emptiness is the realm of subtle insight for those who have attained understanding; awareness without activity or disturbance is the settled inner state of the sage. Discussion must do more than dispel delusion: it must also uphold something. Until the six pairs of opposites have been fully cleared away, one cannot enter “emptiness of emptiness,” where even the idea of emptiness is let go. Yet one must also guard against mistaking emptiness for dull, unresponsive numbness; this is what is meant by purity. A mind clear as the bright moon is called Wuwei; preserving one’s nature allows it to shine forth as naturally as Heaven’s own nature. This teaching takes emptiness and nothingness as its guiding principle.

The Zhuangzi says that gentleness and humility are its outward expression, while emptiness that does no harm to the myriad things is its inner substance. As the guiding principle of the Dao branches out and becomes manifest, nature and life also differ: the guiding principle for nature is to break through attachment and return to reality; the foundation for life is to plant one’s roots deeply and make them firm. Moving from nonbeing into being is the cultivation emphasized in the preservation and refinement practiced by immortals; returning from being to nonbeing is the path by which the principles of nature accord with the realm of emptiness. In the final analysis, the foundation of the Dao lies in Wuwei. To explain its guiding principle and ultimate aim, take the Dao as the central principle and emptiness as the destination.

Here, the guiding principle and ultimate aim are divided into five pairs. First is the “pair of teachings and meaning”: its central principle is the teaching and its words, and its destination is the meaning they convey. Second is the “pair that illuminates both”: its central principle is being and nonbeing, and its destination is their shared return to mystery. Third is the “pair of self-discipline”: its central principle is gentleness and humility, and its destination is overcoming oneself. Fourth is the “pair of true causes”: its central principle is cultivating the true, and its destination is long life. Fifth is the “pair of spiritual transformation”: its central principle is sincerity and simplicity, and its destination is returning to the unadorned simplicity of antiquity.

IV. The Lineage Linking Heaven and Humanity

Dao and De are fundamentally connected, just as Heaven and humanity are originally one. Recognizing their connection and bringing oneself into harmony with Dao leads to a state of universal communion. Recognizing that Heaven and humanity are one and bringing oneself into harmony with Heaven leads to the state of ultimate unity. Those who cultivate their virtue and understand Dao can deepen their virtue and meet with Dao; those who cultivate Dao and understand Heaven can begin with human cultivation and thereby reach the Way of Heaven.

The Way of Heaven is deep and difficult to fathom, and humanity seems separated from Heaven. To connect Heaven and humanity, one must take the sages as one’s guide. When the sages are no longer present, the scriptures and charts should serve as one’s foundation. Studying the scriptures and coming to know the Great Dao allows one to proceed from the human way to the Way of Heaven. Grasping the scriptures’ intent without becoming bound by words and images allows one to pass from De into Dao.

The Most High Lord Lao is a sage who attained the realm of the Great Dao. Across many kalpas, he responded to the needs of each age and manifested in the world. When the Zhou dynasty began to decline, he expounded Dao and De to teach the people. Some passages in the Daode Jing address the political circumstances of the time. For example, its statement during the Warring States period that “a small state should humble itself before a large state, and a large state should humble itself before a small state,” and its repeated warnings that the use of arms is inauspicious, both use the affairs of the age to instruct those in power. When the classic speaks of the eternal Great Dao, however, its intent can be passed down through all generations, resonate with the hundred spirits, and endure without end.

If the Great Dao flourished again in an age of ancient simplicity and sincerity, people could return to their unadorned nature. By ordering the heart and nourishing one’s innate nature, one could recover a youthful vitality. By washing away the many disturbances and errant practices, one could reach a state of subtle, mysterious communion. An emperor who cultivated Dao could enjoy peace throughout the realm; a feudal lord who upheld Dao could bring stability to the state; a minister who upheld Dao could fulfill loyalty and filial devotion; scholars and common people who upheld Dao could remain upright and harmonious; practitioners of the arts of the Dao who cultivated Dao could attain the Way and become perfected beings; and military strategists who upheld Dao could also excel at winning. This is how the human way receives and transmits the Great Dao.

V. The Scope of the Three Caverns

The “constant Dao” and “constant name” discussed in this text, together with the state of being Wuwei and still, without form or sound, and of inexhaustible efficacy—existing before the “image of the ruler”—all belong to the highest Dao and cannot be grasped through concrete images.

The text also discusses various relative distinctions, such as how both favor and disgrace bring unease, and how one may place oneself last or stand apart from worldly affairs. It also describes ways of conducting oneself, including not contending and remaining soft and yielding. These passages explain the teaching from different levels and perspectives. In governing the people and following the seasons, the most important principle is “frugality”: restraint and minimizing expenditure. Governing a large state should be like cooking a small fish: do not turn it over too often or interfere excessively. The best ruler acts through Wuwei; the people know only that he is there, and they grow and flourish naturally. These teachings are close to what is commonly meant by the ordinary Dao.

Cultivation begins with the individual and extends to the family, the state, and all under heaven. It starts with what is small and gradually reaches what is vast. One holds to compassion and frugality, and does not dare to place oneself ahead of the people. From caring for others, one comes to treat them with reverence. In warfare, one should regard battle and loss of life with the solemnity of mourning rites. The text also speaks of keeping essential matters deeply concealed and discerning subtle signs. In general, these teachings concern self-cultivation and the governance of the world.

Phrases such as “the valley spirit never dies,” “fill the belly and empty the heart,” and “embrace the One with body and soul” describe practices for nurturing body and mind and gathering the spirit into unity. “Body and soul” refers to a person’s physical form and hun and po souls; “embracing the One” means bringing body, mind, and spirit into unity. Through the gathering of Jing and Qi and the uniting of Shen, practitioners experience what is real within a hazy, profound state. The saying “easy to understand and easy to practice, yet no one can understand or practice it” explains that although the teaching seems easy to grasp and put into practice, people often struggle to truly understand and follow it. These passages further touch on the secrets of practices for long life, which belong to a higher level of cultivation. It is therefore difficult to assign them fixed names and boundaries or determine exactly which lineage or level of practice they belong to.

A careful study of this Jing shows that it addresses both nature and life: it speaks of practical cultivation as well as principle, and its teachings are interconnected and mutually encompassing. Calling it a teaching of sudden awakening does not mean it lacks gradual cultivation; calling it a teaching of gradual cultivation also implies immediate realization. The Dao De Jing brings nature and life together as a unified, complete teaching. The text was transmitted at Yin Xi’s request, and Yin Xi is therefore regarded as the principal transmitter of this Jing. Whether or not one recites it, one should grasp its meaning. In sum, the meaning of the word “Dao” is exceedingly subtle and mysterious.

As for cultivating the Real and nurturing life, refining Qi and nourishing Shen, these are paths of transcendent cultivation and realization, but they also include methods for preventing decline and death. Such practices therefore incorporate the cultivation of life into the pursuit of the Dao; when cultivation and realization reach the Dao’s utmost point, they return to Wuwei. Some other scriptures, by contrast, give priority to nurturing life and investigate in depth the transformations of the Five Phases (Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, Water).

Six: Explaining What Makes This Jing Exceptional

To speak of the vastness of the Great Dao, one must consider it in its entirety. To speak of its wondrous workings, the key is to grasp transformation. If one sees the Dao as emptiness and stillness, regards the soul as destined for extinction, and believes that after death people are like wood and stone, their nature no different from that of birds and beasts, how could one understand transformation?

All scriptures arise from the Dao, yet the Three Vehicles—the different levels of cultivation—differ from one another. If people lose sight of their original nature and fail to understand that these methods are only means of guidance, they become caught up in conflicting views and division. Thus, some scriptures reveal the Great Dao through Wuwei (non-action) and silence; some explain the essentials of cultivating longevity; some elaborate on the hidden Five Phases (Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, Water); some distinguish the hot and cold properties of medicines; some describe the changes in the cycles of fortune as they rise and decline; and some use Fulu (talismans and registers) to restrain harmful and uncanny forces.

Scriptures, diagrams, proclamations, and oral formulas each have their own aims and paths of cultivation. Although they all belong to the way of seeking truth and returning to unity, they do not necessarily reach a state of complete integration. If we compare the exceptional qualities of the various scriptures, this Jing stands beyond comparison. Its distinctive strengths may be briefly set out in sixteen points:

First, it uses the constant Dao to encompass the myriad methods. Second, it uses profound principles to connect being and nonbeing. Third, it shows that “the profoundest of the profound” is the gateway through which all wonders converge. Fourth, it makes Wuwei the foundation of all purposeful action. Fifth, it regards noncontention as the greatest victory. Sixth, it does not make happiness an object of pursuit, yet explains what true happiness is. Seventh, it acknowledges that things have their allotted courses without being bound by them. Eighth, it uses the “Great Treasure” to explain the wondrous principles of statecraft. Ninth, it takes yielding as a way to advance, and from this discusses the use of military force. Tenth, it advocates acting without presumption, thereby bringing peace to the world. Eleventh, it leads a declining age back to the flourishing of antiquity. Twelfth, it does not claim greatness, yet draws all things to itself. Thirteenth, it makes holding fast to the One—the foundational body of the Dao—a way to cultivate oneself and govern the state. Fourteenth, its language is concise, yet encompasses many scriptures. Fifteenth, it does not discuss human nature explicitly, yet clarifies its underlying principles. Sixteenth, it gathers together the Dao, De, nature, and life, and verifies each in turn.

How could studying the aims of the various scriptures through these principles compare with the vast and integrated workings of this Jing? And how could its wondrous effects ever be fully described?

Seven: Explaining When the Dao’s Cycle Comes into Ascendancy

The workings of Heaven’s Dao do not remain forever unchanged. When the time is right, the Dao comes into ascendancy. The Dao’s cycles of change are boundless, and how it manifests also depends on the condition of people in the world and the cycles of the age. From the beginning of the Five Kalpas—the periods of cosmic change—when darkness turned to light, the Primordial Venerable One, a revered Daoist deity, governed the world in accordance with the times. From the Three Sovereigns, the legendary sage kings of antiquity, onward, every age has inherited and honored the Great Dao.

The movement of Heaven is never constant. The Great Dao flourishes only when the time is right. The Dao itself has no fixed pattern, but to meet the needs of the people, the spread of its teachings depends on the times. Since Heaven and Earth passed through repeated cycles of calamity and emerged from darkness into clarity, the Primordial Venerable (a revered Daoist deity) has presided over the fortunes of the age. From the Three Sovereigns onward, each dynasty has inherited the Dao’s lineage. At times, circumstances have called for choices and sacrifices; at others, specific events have determined whether the Dao flourished or declined.

The Yellow Emperor, Xuanyuan, received talismans from Heaven; Yu the Great passed down a sacred mandate; Yao and Shun transmitted the classics; and the Zhou dynasty made the traces of the Dao manifest. The King of Qin and Emperor Wu of Han sought ways to attain immortality, while Empress Dou and Emperor Wen of Han devoted themselves to the teachings of the True Origin. The Tang dynasty honored the Sage Ancestor, and the whole empire studied the principles of the mysterious Dao.

By the time of Emperor Huizong of Song, he was deep in thought and clear in understanding. He received teachings secretly transmitted from the imperial heart and carried on the Dao’s lineage as its founding ancestor was about to fade from prominence. He ordered the transmission of the Golden Register liturgy, built the Divine Empyrean Palace within the imperial grounds, compiled the Daoist Canon of the Flying Celestial Dharma Wheel, and expounded the teachings of the Dao De Jing by the Primordial Emperor (Laozi). He vigorously promoted Daoist learning and decreed that Daoists be selected according to the Three Hall system. The court treated Daoist palaces with honor and granted their leaders official rank equal to that of close imperial attendants. As for astronomy, precious registers, hymns, talismans, and diagrams, they were seldom seen in earlier ages. These things suddenly flourished on a great scale, beyond the judgment of ordinary people.

These measures were extraordinary, yet they came just as the fortunes of the state were declining. People may therefore suspect that they amounted to empty talk, without knowing that cycles of calamity follow their own timing, and that the flourishing of Daoist teaching, too, must await its moment. When the Han dynasty rose to power, the Lord of the River spoke of the profound; when the Tang dynasty rose, Lord Lao appeared. When the world is about to be governed well, the correct Way does not come into practice without cause. These events brought greater luster to Daoist texts and foretold the possible return of peace and order.

The Scripture of Salvation of Humankind says that scriptures enter the world once every forty thousand kalpas; the Zhuangzi says that such an encounter comes only once in ten thousand generations. To seek the profound meaning, one may first use words and analogies as a path of entry. Those who study the Dao’s methods should not forget the teachings of the Great Dao.

Eight. Clarifying the General and the Particular: distinguishing universal principles from particular differences.

Generally speaking, scriptures have a “general preface” and a “specific preface.” The general preface gives an overall account of a scripture’s central meaning, while the specific preface explains that meaning chapter by chapter. The opening, closing, and middle prefaces of the Scripture on Salvation of Humanity, along with its earlier and later chapters, are all prefaces; the hidden language does not belong to these three chapters. By this classification, the general preface of the Dao De Jing is the central purport of the entire text, while its eighty-one chapters form the specific preface, each clarifying the scripture’s meaning.

Nine: Explaining the Response to a Request

“Repayment” means responding, and “request” means asking. The phrase “responding to a request” here refers to the fact that the opening of the Dao De Jing does not say where Lord Lao was or to whom he was teaching the scripture, so the reason for the teaching may seem unclear. Yet related scriptures and accounts say that Lord Lao taught it to Yin Xi, the official who guarded the pass; some accounts also say that he had earlier taught it to Emperor Shun. Here, it is stated directly that Lord Lao taught the scripture to Yin Xi during the Zhou period, because this concerns the foundations of nature and life and was a momentous karmic encounter.

“Repayment” means responding to Yin Xi’s request: Yin Xi stopped Lord Lao’s carriage at the pass and invited him to leave behind his wondrous teachings. In this sense, the scripture was also taught in response to a request. The Scripture of the Western Ascension records that when Yin Xi, the pass official, observed the auspicious signs accompanying Lord Lao’s arrival, he fasted and received him with the proper courtesies. Lord Lao then taught him the Dao De Jing in two parts, upper and lower, and the account is given in considerable detail.

Ten: Dividing the Structure According to the Scripture

Classics are usually divided into three parts: the introductory section, the main teaching, and the section on transmission. The Dao De Jing begins without a question or request, so it lacks an introductory section; it ends without words such as “receive this in faith and put it into practice,” so it lacks a section on transmission. Here, Ge Xianweng’s preface is deliberately used as the introductory section, the eighty-one chapters as the main teaching, and the circulation and practice of the Dao De Jing in the world as the section on transmission.

In addition, the Lingbao scriptures explain the title of a classic as follows: the final attainment is its introductory section, the causes cultivated through practice form its main teaching, and awakening is its section on transmission.

Shao Ruoyu says: “Dao” is revealed through Wuwei (non-action, or refraining from acting arbitrarily), which makes the real Youwei (the actual functioning of the myriad things) clear. To understand the formless and nameless through what has form and activity, and to gain wisdom by comprehending “nonbeing”—this is principle. “De” means taking Dao as one’s standard and putting it into practice in concrete affairs; this is practice. The terms Dao and De cover a broad range. The Jing describes stages of cultivation in a particular order because people understand Dao to differing depths, and De, too, has inner and outer aspects. Without understanding these stages, people act without standards, giving rise to confusion and disputes.

The Great Dao is still and utterly empty. It has no form or name and cannot be spoken of. Therefore, the book that records it is called the Great Change (Dayi); here, “Great Change” refers to the empty state in which Qi has not yet appeared. When the Great Change moves, Qi begins to emerge; this is called the Great Beginning (Taichu). Laozi provisionally named this Qi “Dao.” Confucius said, “What is above form is called Dao.” Buddhism speaks of the “Four Noble Truths”—suffering, its origin, its cessation, and the path—and also calls the path of practice among them “Dao.” From this we can see that the teachings of Laozi, Confucius, and Buddhism all begin with things that have already appeared in order to transmit Dao. Without beginning from what has form and activity, one cannot know nonbeing through being; therefore, people also differ in how deeply they understand Dao.

The Great Change is emptiness. Through movement, it becomes the beginning of being, called the Great Beginning. When Qi appears, it becomes the beginning of form, called the Great Commencement (Taishi). When Qi and form combine to produce the qualities of firmness and softness, this is called the Great Simplicity (Taisu). When Qi, form, and substance are all present but not yet differentiated, this is called Chaos. Once Chaos divides, Yin and Yang interact, with a single Qi between them, and the myriad things come into being. Thus Laozi says, “Dao gives birth to One; One gives birth to Two; Two gives birth to Three; Three gives birth to the myriad things.”

The sages observed Heaven and Earth, modeled the order in which Heaven is high and Earth is low, and applied this order to governance. They became leaders and made the Way of the King clear. They established the Five Constant Virtues—benevolence, righteousness, propriety, wisdom, and trustworthiness—and various codes of conduct. Following the changes of Yin and Yang and the principles by which the myriad things come into being, they established ethical relationships between ruler and subject, parent and child, and husband and wife, in order to govern society.

The Great Dao has no name or trace and is beyond birth and death. It endures unchanged through countless kalpas, supreme and wondrous beyond words.

“Superior De” uses Wuwei as its means and takes “One”—the undivided root shared by all things—as its standard for governing the world. When the myriad things arise, it does not interfere with them; it nourishes them without claiming ownership; it acts without relying on its accomplishments; and when its work is done, it takes no credit. The people know only that such a ruler exists, without feeling that he deserves praise. The myriad things thus transform of themselves, so there is no decay or error. By following Wuwei, nothing is left unguided. When Superior De is lost, people cling to “One” while pursuing concrete action; this is “inner De.”

“Inferior De” takes “One” as its root and the changes of Yin and Yang as its standard for governing the world. Confucius’s teaching of “One thread that runs through it all,” as well as the saying that “one who is skilled at establishing things grasps their unifying root, and the myriad things will then submit,” can both illustrate this point. When people cling to “One,” they put it into practice through the Five Constant Virtues and various codes of conduct; this becomes concrete social practice, called “outer De.”

“Inner De” means holding fast to “One.” “One” is the foundation of the state and the source of life. By holding fast to it without straying, one makes the foundation deep and secure; this is the way to long life and enduring vision. Confucius called this “Highest De” and held that Dao is its root. It may also be called the “Mean”: before joy, anger, sorrow, and pleasure have arisen, the mind rests in a balanced state between Yin and Yang. Buddhism calls this the “Middle Way.” If cultivators lose this state, they become troubled and unsettled. If they take only the workings of Yin and Yang as their rule, they turn instead to magical arts.

“Outer De” means cultivating oneself through the Five Constant Virtues and various codes of conduct. Confucius called this “Active De,” with practical conduct as its foundation. To be yielding and free of contention, like water; to restrain forcefulness and practice compassion and frugality; to appear unassuming and speak with care—these are all expressions of self-cultivation. If outer De is lost, people become absorbed in cleverness, ostentation, and frivolity; they show off their strength, compete for victory, indulge in hunting, and covet wealth and honor. They are then bound to suffer anxiety over gains and losses.

Dao is naturally easy to know and easy to practice, but people prefer shortcuts. The farther they go, the less they understand. The Great Dao is simple and level: by refraining from arbitrary action, things come to completion of themselves. In sum, everything comes down to having no desires. Without greed, the mind can be still. Stillness and purity are the right way to govern the world. Laozi does not speak of taking elixirs, becoming an immortal, or ascending bodily into the daytime sky; he speaks only of Dao and De, and does not seek magical arts.

The Central Scroll of the Great Meaning of the Collected Commentaries on the True Classic of the Dao and Its De

The Lower Scroll of the Great Meaning of the Collected Commentaries on the True Classic of the Dao and Its De