《道德真经集注杂说(彭耜)》

When Emperor Taizu of Song set out to conquer Taiyuan, he was stationed at Zhenyang. Hearing that the Daoist Su Chengyin had repeatedly been summoned during the Five Dynasties but had always refused to enter official service, he called him to the temporary palace for an audience. Su was then eighty years old. Taizu asked him about the way to preserve life. Su replied, “For me, preserving life means simply keeping my thoughts focused and cultivating Original Qi—the vital energy that Daoism regards as the source of life. The way an emperor preserves life is different.” He went on to explain that when Laozi said, “I practice Wuwei (non-action), and the people transform themselves; I have no desires, and the people return to simplicity,” he meant that when a ruler acts without forcing things and is free of desire, his spirit can become settled and harmonize with the Qi of Great Harmony. The ancient Yellow Emperor and Tang Yao were able to rule for a long time because they had grasped this principle. Taizu praised Su’s explanation. This account appears in the biographies of recluses and eminent Daoists in the Dongdu Shilüe.

Hongmengzi Zhang Wumeng, whose courtesy name was Lingyin, loved tranquility and emptiness and studied the Laozi and the Zhouyi in depth. He once went to Mount Hua, where he formed friendships beyond the world with Liu Haichan and Zhong Fang, and became a student of Master Chen Xiyi, from whom he learned many subtle principles. Later, he lived in seclusion on Mount Tiantai. Emperor Zhenzong of Song summoned him and asked how to remain settled in the world for a long time. Zhang replied, “I am a man of the mountains and wilderness. I read the Laozi and the Zhouyi in the mountains; I know nothing of other matters.” The court appointed him Assistant Director of the Bureau of Writing, but he firmly declined the post and returned to his mountain retreat. The emperor offered him gold and silk and bestowed on him the title of Retired Scholar, but he accepted neither. This account appears in the Biographies of Eminent Daoists.

Bi Xuzi Chen Jingyuan once took Zhang Hongmeng as his teacher and studied Daoist arts. He wrote Collected Subtleties from the Dao De Jing in the Hidden Chamber, gathering essential insights from commentaries by various ancient authors and combining them with secret teachings passed down by his teacher. During the Xining era (a reign period of the Northern Song), he was summoned to court to present the book, and Emperor Shenzong of Song commended it in his own hand. Chen Jingyuan also annotated The Nanhua Jing: Chapters, Sentences, and Pronunciations and Meanings, in more than twenty volumes. These works are now included in the Daoist Canon (the collected body of Daoist texts). Relevant accounts appear in Biography of Bi Xuzi, the preface to Collected Subtleties, and the Catalogue of the Daoist Canon.

Dong You of Guangchuan states in his Record of the Book Collection that Emperor Xuanzong of Tang had already written a commentary on Biography of Bi Xuzi. He also cites the preface to Collected Subtleties and the Catalogue of the Daoist Canon.

Dong You of Guangchuan says in his Bibliographic Record of Collected Books that after Emperor Xuanzong of Tang wrote a commentary on the Laozi, he began to reorganize its chapters and changed the title to the Dao De Jing. He placed the passages discussing the Dao in the upper volume and those discussing De in the lower volume, then had the text carved on a stone stele at the Laozi Temple in Wokou.

Dong You also says that the Tang Daoist Zhang Daoxiang compiled a seven-volume Collected Commentaries on the Dao De Jing, bringing together annotations by thirty authors. Those whose names can now be identified are Heshanggong, Jie Jie, Yan Zun, Wang Bi, He Yan, Guo Xiang, Zhong Hui, Sun Deng, Yang Hu, Kumarajiva, Lu Jingyu, Liu Renhui, Gu Huan, Tao Hongjing, Song Ling, Pei Chusi, Du Bi, Zhang Ping, Zhang Si, Zang Xuanjing, Meng Anqi, Meng Zhizhou, Dou Lue, Song Wenming, Chu Rou, Liu Jinxi, Cai Zihuang, Cheng Xuanying, and Che Huibi.

A further search of the bibliographies in the Old and New Books of Tang, which record books from successive dynasties, turns up another forty people who wrote commentaries on the Dao De Jing. They include Wuqiuwangzhi, Xiang Yi (surname unknown), Cheng Shao, Wang Shang, Shu Cai, Yuan Zhen, the Buddhist monk Huiyan, Huilin, Yiying, Liang Kuang, Shu Zhongshan, Fu Yi, Yang Shangshan, Li Yunyuang, Chen Sigu, Ren Zhenzi, Feng Guo, Master Xuanjing, Yang Shangqi, Han Du, Emperor Wu of Liang, Emperor Jianwen of Liang, Jia Dayin, Pilü Renxu, Liu Zhongrong, Wang Su, Dai Shen, Emperor Xuanzong, Lu Cangyong, Xing Nanhe, Feng Chaoyin, Bai Lüzhong, Li Bo, Yin Zhizhang, Lu Deming, Chen Tingyu, Lu Xisheng, Wu Shanjing, Sun Simiao, and Li Hanguang.

However, Zhang Daoxiang’s collected commentary lists fourteen authors—Guo Xiang, Liu Renhui, Song Ling, Pei Chusi, Du Bi, Zhang Si, Zang Xuanjing, Dou Lue, Song Wenming, Chu Rou, Liu Jinxi, Cai Zihuang, and Che Huibi—who do not appear in the bibliographies. The bibliographies record Zhang Daoxiang’s Collected Commentaries as four volumes, whereas the copy seen by Dong You had seven. It was probably expanded by later hands.

When the Daoist canon was collated again during the Chongning era of our dynasty, this work was no longer in the collection. Of the other commentaries, only those by Emperor Xuanzong, Heshanggong, Yan Zun, and Lu Xisheng remained, along with the ancient text of the Dao De Jing transmitted by Fu Yi. In addition, Li Yue, Li Rong, and Jia Qingyi each wrote a commentary; Wang, Gu, and others composed annotations and subcommentaries on the scripture at Emperor Xuanzong’s command; and Du Guangting later compiled the Expanded Meaning of Sagely Illumination on that basis. These, too, are works by Tang authors and are preserved in the Daoist canon. This shows that the bibliographies are still incomplete. Sadly, of those whose works have vanished and whose titles alone survive, perhaps eight or nine out of every ten are lost.

The Tang dynasty chancellor Lu Xisheng wrote a four-volume commentary on the Daodejing. In his preface, he wrote in essence: Laozi’s teaching takes the Dao as its foundation and names as its function; speaking only of Wuwei (non-action) is not enough to express the full scope of his thought. Sadly, in most of the works that have been passed down, the titles and names remain, but their actual contents have been lost.

Lu Xisheng also wrote: Laozi’s teaching speaks of Wuwei and of acting without limit, and takes the “Imperial Ultimate”—the highest standard—as its final aim. Yang Zhu inherited the foundation of Laozi’s teaching but fell short, and so prized the self while treating external things lightly. Zhuang Zhou developed its function but went too far, advocating the abandonment of sages and cleverness. Shen Buhai and Han Fei misunderstood Laozi’s “names” and fell into the faults of harshness and severity; Wang Bi and He Yan misunderstood Laozi’s Dao and drifted into emptiness and abandon. These six can all be seen as examples of those who distorted Laozi, so Lu Xisheng wrote his commentary on the Daodejing to clarify Laozi’s central purpose.

He further wrote: In ancient times, Fuxi drew the Eight Trigrams (Bagua) to symbolize the myriad things, investigate the principles of nature and life, and accord with the harmony of De (Virtue/Power). Laozi traced the source that precedes the generation of Heaven and Earth, took Yin-Yang as his basis, pursued the utmost principles of nature and life, and sought the profound meaning of De; in tracing the source, he was of one mind with Fuxi. King Wen observed the changes of “nine” and “six” in the Great Change (an ancient teaching about transformation), esteemed strength and valued change, while making balance and correctness essential. Laozi, by contrast, examined the constant correctness of “seven” and “eight,” devoted himself to gentleness and stillness, and used the vast Dao to encompass the myriad things; in the foundations of their teachings, he was in accord with King Wen. Confucius inherited the way of Yao and Shun, took the institutions of Kings Wen and Wu as his standards, and taught the people through benevolence and righteousness. Laozi, by contrast, pursued the way of Fuxi and connected the learning of the Yellow Emperor, teaching the world through Dao and De; in adapting to circumstances and teaching in accordance with the moment, he was in accord with Confucius.

Fuxi, King Wen, and Confucius were these three exemplary sages. Laozi could freely and fully unite their teachings, return to their foundations, investigate the pivot of the most profound transformations, and seek the culmination of the subtlest principles. He may therefore be called one who attained the realm of the wondrous.

Li Yue, an official in the Ministry of War during the Tang dynasty and son of Li Mian, wrote a four-volume commentary on the Dao De Jing. He argued that people commonly claimed the book taught the way of immortals and the Void, without realizing that the Confucian Six Classics were branches and leaves of the learning of Huang-Lao—that is, the teachings of the Yellow Emperor and Laozi.

Emperor Taizong of Tang said to Fu Yi, “The teachings of Buddhism and Daoism are profound and subtle. Why are you the only one who does not understand their meaning?” Fu Yi replied, “Buddhism is a religion that came from the lands of the Hu peoples. At first it spread only in the Western Regions, then gradually entered the Central Plain. Its doctrines imitate the profound and subtle sayings of Laozi and Zhuangzi, then embellish them. They bring no benefit to the people and, instead, harm the state.” Emperor Taizong largely agreed. As Fu Yi lay dying, he warned his sons: “The writings of Laozi and Zhuangzi on the subtle return to unity, together with the teachings in the Six Classics of the Duke of Zhou and Confucius, are the orthodox teachings and social norms centered on ethical instruction. You should study them. Those heretical doctrines that came from the West and disrupted the Central Plain have confused people of this age. You must not study them.” This account appears in the “Biography of Fu Yi” in the Old Book of Tang.

Emperor Xianzong of Tang asked his chief ministers, “Can the claims about immortals be believed?” Li Fan replied, “The idea of immortals comes from Daoism. The fundamental text revered by Daoists is Laozi’s five thousand words, the Dao De Jing. The purpose of the Laozi Zhigui is no different from that of the Dao De Jing. Later generations who delighted in strange things used Laozi’s name to promote claims about immortals. Thus the rulers Qin Shi Huang and Emperor Wu of Han were both misled, and in the end gained nothing.” Emperor Xianzong was deeply persuaded. This account appears in the “Basic Annals of Emperor Xianzong” in the Old Book of Tang.

Zhongchang Ziguang, courtesy name Buyiao, built a thatched hut on a sandbar in the Yellow River region toward the end of the Kaihuang era of the Sui dynasty. When local officials came to visit, he declined to see them, saying that he could not speak. When people asked him about the Way, he would write the two characters “Lao” and “Yi” for them to see. Wang Tong, a Confucian scholar of the late Sui, likened him to Yu Zhong and Yi Yi, two recluses who withdrew from the world. This account appears in Wang Ji’s “Biography of Master Zhongchang” and in the Commentary on the Master of the Central Texts.

Wang Ji, known as the Master of Donggao and courtesy-named Wugong, had an elder brother, Wang Tong, a great Confucian scholar of the late Sui. Wang Ji owned land among the sandbars in the Yellow River region, while Zhongchang Ziguang lived in a hut on a sandbar to the north. Admiring Zhongchang Ziguang’s simplicity and natural authenticity, Wang Ji moved nearby. He often kept the Book of Changes, Laozi, and Zhuangzi by his bedside, and read few other books. This account appears in the “Biographies of Recluses” in the New Book of Tang.

Lu Hongyi, whose courtesy name was Haoran, lived in seclusion on Mount Song. In the sixth year of the Kaiyuan era (718), the court summoned him to the eastern capital, Luoyang. When he appeared before the emperor, he did not kneel and bow. The chancellor sent a court official responsible for conveying the emperor’s orders and communicating between the court and the outside to ask why. Lu Hongyi replied, “I have heard the Old Lord (Laozi) say that ritual arose only after loyalty and trust had declined, and is not something to rely on. I, Lu Hongyi, live among the mountains and fields, and have come to appear before you with a loyal and trusting heart.” The New Book of Tang, in its “Biographies of Recluses,” records his words as “Ritual is loyalty and reading”; the Old Book of Tang, in its “Biographies of Recluses,” gives them as “Ritual is the thinning of loyalty and trust, and is not something to rely on.”

The Master of Pure Unity, Sima Chengzhen, whose courtesy name was Ziwei, lived on Mount Tiantai and had long remained within the mountain. Emperor Ruizong ordered his elder brother, Sima Chengyi, to go and invite him out. When Sima Chengzhen arrived in the capital, he was ushered into the palace, where the emperor asked him about the methods of cultivating the Dao. He replied, “Cultivating the Dao means reducing desires day by day, and continuing to reduce them until one reaches Wuwei (non-action, acting without contrivance and following what comes naturally). Even the thoughts of the mind and the sights and sounds encountered by the eyes and ears should be steadily diminished, yet it is always difficult to bring them to a stop. How much more so when one pursues unorthodox paths and increases cleverness and calculation?” The emperor asked, “If this is how one cultivates oneself, what should one do to govern the state?” Sima Chengzhen answered, “The state is like the human body. Let the mind and spirit remain calm and detached, let the breath settle into stillness, follow the natural condition of all things, and hold no private intentions; then the world can be governed well.” The emperor exclaimed, “These are indeed the words of Guangchengzi.” (Guangchengzi was a legendary sage who attained the Dao.)

During the Kaiyuan era, Emperor Xuanzong again summoned Sima Chengzhen to the capital and issued an edict for him to live in a ritual chamber on Mount Wangwu. Sima Chengzhen excelled at seal script and clerical script. Xuanzong ordered him to copy the Laozi in three scripts and collate the text. The old Book of Tang, in its biography of Sima Chengzhen, records that Xuanzong ordered him to copy the Laozi Jing in three scripts and collate its passages. He ultimately established the text at 5,380 characters and presented this definitive edition to the emperor.

Mr. Wu Yun, also known as Master Zongyuan, was originally a Confucian scholar from Lu. He later became a Daoist on Mount Song and then traveled to Mount Tiantai. Emperor Xuanzong of Tang sent an envoy to summon him to court. When Wu Yun arrived, the emperor asked him about the Dao and its methods. Wu Yun replied, “In discussing the essentials of the Dao, nothing surpasses the five thousand characters of Laozi. Other elaborate and tangential doctrines merely waste paper.” This account appears in the “Biographies of Recluses” in the Old Book of Tang. The “Biography of Wu Yun” in the New Book of Tang gives a slightly different account: the emperor once asked him about the Dao, and Wu Yun replied, “In discussing the profound meaning of the Dao, nothing surpasses Laozi’s five thousand characters; other doctrines merely waste paper.” The emperor then asked about the arts of refining immortality. Wu Yun replied, “That is a matter for people living in the mountains and wilderness. It requires years of inquiry and is not suitable for a ruler to devote his attention to.” The two histories differ slightly in their accounts, so both are recorded here.

Ban Gu recorded that the teachings of Laozi circulated in a version transmitted by Lin. Fu, Xu, and Liu Xiang also each produced commentaries on them. The Fu version had thirty-seven chapters, the Lin version four, the Xu version six, and Liu Xiang’s version four. Sadly, these books have long been lost. The Dao De Jing that circulates today is divided in different ways: some versions have two parts, some eighty-one chapters, and others seventy-two. Heshang Gong divided it into eighty-one chapters. The first part discusses the Way of Heaven, whose number is odd, and therefore has thirty-seven chapters; the second discusses the Way of Earth, whose number is even, and therefore has forty-four. Yan Zun, by contrast, based his division on the Yin number eight and the Yang number nine, combining eight with nine to produce seventy-two chapters: forty in the first part and thirty-two in the second. This differs entirely from Heshang Gong’s division. Since the various schools relied on different texts and their interpretations also diverged, it is now difficult to establish which version was originally arranged this way.

The Han-dynasty scholar Huan Tan said that Laozi once wrote two texts explaining the Dao of emptiness and nonbeing, and that later admirers considered their value greater than that of the Five Classics. This view was held by figures ranging from Emperor Wen and Emperor Jing of Han to Sima Qian. The account appears in the “Biography of Yang Xiong” in the Book of Han.

Ruan Ji says in “On Laozi” (Tonglao lun): “What is called the Dao is change that takes place in accordance with nature. If rulers can hold fast to the Dao, the myriad things will change of themselves. The Book of Changes calls it the ‘Supreme Ultimate’ (Taiji); the Spring and Autumn Annals calls it the ‘Origin’; Laozi calls it the ‘Dao.’” This account appears in the Imperial Reader of the Taiping Era (Taiping yulan).

In his commentary on the Daodejing, Wang Bi suggested that the chapters “Fine Weapons” and “The People’s Hunger” might not have been written by Laozi. He Yan had not yet finished his commentary on the Laozi when he heard Wang Bi explain the principles behind his own commentary. He found Wang’s views so profound that he fell silent, repeatedly assenting. In the end, he did not continue his commentary, but instead wrote the two treatises On the Dao and De.

Another account says that He Pingshu (He Yan, whose courtesy name was Pingshu) had just completed his commentary on the Laozi when he went to visit Wang Fusi (Wang Bi, whose courtesy name was Fusi). After reading Wang’s commentary, he was deeply impressed and said, “A man like this is someone with whom one can discuss the relationship between Heaven and humanity.” He then recast his own commentary as the two treatises On the Dao and De. The Record of Literary Works (Wenzhang xulu) says that Confucian scholars of the time did not consider Laozi a sage, because he advocated discarding ritual and law and abandoning learning. He Yan, however, held that Laozi’s teachings accorded with the Way of the sages. He wrote an essay explaining this view, which was passed down to later generations. Related accounts appear in A New Account of Tales of the World (Shishuo xinyu) and its commentary.

Ruan Zhan was the son of Ruan Xian. When he went to pay his respects to the Minister over the Masses, Wang Rong, Wang asked him, “The sages esteem social distinctions and ritual, while Laozi and Zhuangzi elucidate following nature. Are their aims the same or different?” Ruan Zhan replied, “I suppose they are the same.” Wang Rong praised him at length and appointed him on the spot. People at the time called this the “Three-Word Clerk,” because Ruan Zhan had answered in three words. This account appears in the “Biography of Ruan Zhan” in the Book of Jin; A New Account of Tales of the World identifies him as Ruan Xiu.

Lu Yuanlang, whose courtesy name was Deming, was generally known by that name. He once served as a Erudite at the Imperial Academy. When Emperor Gaozu held the Shidian ceremony, a rite honoring Confucius, he summoned the Erudite Xu Wenyuan to explain the Classic of Filial Piety, the monk Huicheng to explain the Prajñā Sūtra, and the Daoist Liu Jinxi to explain the Laozi. Deming raised questions to each of them, debating different points in light of the central principles of their respective teachings. Everyone was persuaded by him. The emperor was delighted and said, “These three are indeed skilled debaters, but Deming can convince them as soon as he speaks. He truly deserves to be called a worthy man.” This account appears in the “Biographies of Confucian Scholars” in the Old and New Books of Tang.

In the early Kaiyuan era, the emperor issued an edict instructing the Secretariat Director Zhang Yue to recommend people well versed in the Changes, the Laozi, and the Zhuangzi. Hou Xingguo, a Bachelor-in-Attendance at the Academy of Scholarly Worthies, recommended Kang Ziyuan of Kuaiji and Jing Huizhen of Pingyang. Zhang Yue submitted their names, and both were appointed as lecturers to the emperor. Before long, they also became Academicians in Attendance for Lectures at the Academy of Scholarly Worthies. At first, Hou Xingguo, Jing Huizhen, and Feng Chaoyin of Changle lectured together. Feng Chaoyin was skilled at probing the profound principles of Laozi and Zhuangzi. Jing Huizhen was also well versed in the Laozi, and before reading and explaining each chapter, he would burn incense, wash his hands, and rinse his mouth to show due reverence. This account appears in the “Biographies of Confucian Scholars” in the New Book of Tang.

In his youth, Zhang Jianming associated with Confucian scholars across the Hedong region. Later, he left and became a Daoist, gaining a thorough understanding of the teachings of Laozi and Zhuang Zhou. Emperor Gaozu of Later Jin summoned him and asked whether Daoist teachings could be used to govern the state. Zhang Jianming replied, “What is called the Dao explains the mysteries of the myriad things. One who truly grasps the utmost of the Dao can govern the world even while sitting or reclining quietly on a mat.” Gaozu thought his answer insightful, invited him into the inner palace to lecture on the Dao De Jing, took him as a teacher, and bestowed on him the title ‘Master of Pervading Mystery.’ His later whereabouts are unknown. This account appears in the “Biographies of Recluses” in the History of the Five Dynasties.

Emperor Taizong of Tang heard that some transport soldiers on the Bian River canal were secretly pawning and trading goods. He said to his attendants, “Ways to turn a profit are like mouse holes. How could they all be sealed? It is enough to remove the worst offenders. If the men who pole and row the boats conduct a little private trade, there is no need to pursue it as long as it does not interfere with official business. It is enough that government goods suffer no loss.” Lü Mengzheng replied, “Clear water cannot sustain fish; a person who scrutinizes too harshly will have no companions. Surely a gentleman knows about the deceit and treachery of petty men. Only by having a broad heart and making room for them can one attend to all affairs. Cao Shen did not interfere with the prisons or the marketplaces because good and bad people alike were found there. If everything were investigated to the utmost, the wicked would have nowhere to hide. So one should exercise caution and not interfere. The words of the sages accord precisely with the way of Huang-Lao—the statecraft of stillness and Wuwei (non-action) that draws on the thought of the Yellow Emperor and Laozi.” See Facts of Our Dynasty. (A passage is repeated here in the original.)

Chen Guàn, the Duke of Zhong-su of Liao Zhai, once wrote more than twenty essays titled Words of Enlightenment. The preface says, in substance: Wang Zeng, commissioner of the Jade Purity Palace of Auspicious Response, asked for the Daoist scriptures held in the Three Archives to be collated. The emperor then remarked that the Daoist scriptures were not as quiet and concise as Laozi’s five thousand words. Zhang Zhibai said, “Your Majesty’s attention to these teachings is precisely the statecraft of governing through Wuwei.” I respectfully read the sagely instruction of the Shenzong Emperor: “Emperor Wen and Emperor Jing of Han, and Emperor Taizong of Tang, were just the kind of people Confucius said he had nothing to criticize.” I then examined the deeds of these three rulers and found that Emperor Wen of Han derived his way of governing from Laozi, while many aspects of the governance of Emperor Renzong of Song also resembled that of Emperor Wen. I have selected more than ten relevant passages and copied them below.

When Emperor Wen of Han first took the throne, he first repaid Zhou Bo and Chen Ping for their service, and only later rewarded Song Chang. He put those who had served the state ahead of those who had shown personal kindness to him. This is what Laozi meant by “putting oneself last, and thereby coming first.” Thus, no one under Heaven could get ahead of him.

Whenever Emperor Wen of Han attended court, the palace attendants stood beside him. When he first took the throne, he first repaid Zhou Bo and Chen Ping for their service, and only later rewarded Song Chang. He put those who had served the state ahead of those who had shown personal kindness to him. This is what Laozi meant by “putting oneself last, and thereby coming first.” Thus, no one under Heaven could get ahead of him.

Whenever Emperor Wen of Han traveled, officials would submit memorials expressing their views, and he would always have his carriage stop so he could hear them. If an opinion was not worth adopting, he set it aside; if it was useful, he put it into practice. He would also praise the speaker, saying that the point was well made. Whether or not the opinion was useful, he responded with approval. This is precisely the meaning of “I treat the good with goodness, and I also treat the not-good with goodness” (I treat those who are good with goodness, and I treat those who are not good with goodness as well). In this way, one can cultivate goodness in one’s De (Virtue/Power).

When Emperor Wen first came to inspect the tiger enclosure, the official in charge spoke at great length in answer to his questions. The emperor then appointed him Director of Shanglin Park, the official responsible for the imperial gardens. Zhang Shizhi, the Commandant of Justice, remonstrated: “Zhou Bo and Zhang Xiangru are both elders whom Your Majesty praises. Yet when they speak about affairs of state, they may not say very much. Should we really imitate this enclosure official, chattering on and showing off his eloquence? The Qin dynasty employed officials who knew only how to handle paperwork. They competed to impress one another with their speed and severity in carrying out tasks and their punctilious attention to detail. In the end, only empty formalities remained, with no real results. The court could not hear of its own failings, and its troubles steadily grew until it fell into disorder and ruin. Now that this official has received an exceptional promotion for his eloquence, I fear people throughout the realm will follow his example, competing to hone their speaking skills while lacking practical ability. Those below are influenced by those above as swiftly as a shadow follows a body or an echo follows a sound. Measures of governance must be undertaken with care.”

Emperor Wen said, “Well said.” He therefore did not appoint the enclosure official. This shows that eloquence is not necessarily a good thing, and that speaking too much often leads one into difficulty. Laozi said, “Those who know do not speak; those who speak do not know.” He also said, “Those who are good do not argue; those who argue are not good.” And he said, “Too many words lead to repeated failure; better to hold to the center.”

Emperor Wen of Han once issued an edict saying, “The court set up a ‘slander post’ so that the people could speak freely and point out the successes and failures of government. Yet the laws now make criticizing the government and expressing dissent offenses. This will keep ministers from speaking plainly about the facts, leaving the ruler unable to learn of his own faults. This prohibition should be abolished.” When Jia Yi submitted memorials, he even cited the emperor’s temple name and posthumous title as he presented his views. Emperor Wen still praised him and adopted his advice, showing that people at the time had no fear of being punished for speaking their minds. The people’s ability to prosper and avoid poverty was perhaps connected to this. Laozi said, “The more prohibitions there are under Heaven, the poorer the people become.”

Emperor Wen restored the ancestral tombs of Yutuō, the King of Nanyue, in Zhending, appointed people to guard them, and arranged regular sacrifices. He also summoned Yutuō’s brothers, gave them high offices, and bestowed generous rewards as a mark of favor. As a result, Yutuō ordered the people of Nanyue to accept the Han court’s edicts, gave up his imperial title, and no longer dared call himself emperor. This shows that whether one first supports another and then weakens them, or first gives and then takes, everything depends on how it is done. When the King of Wu falsely claimed to be ill and refused to attend court, Emperor Wen gave him a small table and a staff. He also discovered that ministers such as Zhang Wu had accepted bribes, and rewarded them so that they would feel ashamed. These actions, too, can be understood through Laozi’s words: “To draw something in, you must first let it expand; to weaken something, you must first let it grow strong; to discard something, you must first let it arise; to take something, you must first give it.”

Yuan Ang advised Lady Shen, Emperor Wen’s favored consort, not to sit at the same table as the emperor. Emperor Wen was angry at first, but later his anger turned to pleasure, and he gave Yuan Ang a generous reward. This shows that Emperor Wen could restrain himself and was not stubbornly attached to his own views. His virtue was thereby made clear, and the state grew strong. Laozi said, “Because one does not insist on being right, one can make things clear.” He also said, “Those who can overcome themselves are truly strong.”

Emperor Wen of Han accepted Jia Yi’s forthright and earnest remonstrances. He treated his ministers with restraint and did not bring them to disgrace. This made the ritual boundaries between ruler and ministers clearer and the foundations of the state more secure. The Book of Changes says, “By treating those of lower status with humility despite one’s exalted position, one can win the people’s hearts.” How did Emperor Wen’s conduct differ from this? Laozi says, “The noble takes the lowly as its root; the high takes the low as its foundation.”

I have long believed that, since the Three Dynasties of Xia, Shang, and Zhou, no one skilled in governing the realm surpassed Emperor Xiaowen (Emperor Wen of Han). Yet his approach to governance came from Laozi. Thus, what Emperor Renzong learned from Laozi was his simplicity and its remarkable effectiveness. And when I examine Emperor Wen’s record of governance, I find little to criticize. Though Laozi’s and Confucius’s teachings differ, their fundamental aims are connected. Though the Han dynasty fell short of the Zhou, its good governance still offers lessons worth following. This is the instruction these two sages left for later generations.

In the fourth year of the Huangyou era, Emperor Renzong said to his senior ministers, “Since I ascended the throne, I have appointed many vice chief councilors, officials who assist the chief councilors in handling government affairs. Among them, only Cai Qi, Lu Zongdao, and Xue Kui were loyal and upright, and worthy of remembrance. The chief councilors Wang Zeng and Zhang Zhibai were both principled, loyal, and prudent. Though they occasionally made minor mistakes, neither ultimately committed any serious fault. Li Di, too, was plainspoken and honest, and able to govern himself, but he often spoke without sufficient consideration.” Pang Ji replied, “Since ancient times, capable people have been hard to find.” Emperor Renzong added, “I remember their major virtues, not their minor faults.”

I have reflected at length on these words of Emperor Renzong and considered why he valued Wang Zeng and Zhang Zhibai. Perhaps they used a quiet, Wuwei approach to governance, helping the court put rule through non-action into practice. Perhaps it was precisely this that made their major virtues worthy of remembrance.

The Court of Judicial Review, which examined criminal cases, concluded very few cases. Emperor Renzong was pleased and said, “The realm is so vast, yet criminal cases can be decided in such numbers. This shows that litigation over criminal matters is not excessive.”

After the cases awaiting review by the Court of Judicial Review—a body responsible for reviewing criminal cases—had been cleared, Emperor Renzong of Song said happily, “Though the realm is vast, criminal cases have been handled so thoroughly. This shows that lawsuits are few and the officials in charge have not delayed their cases.” He then issued an edict rewarding the judicial officials and ordered the court historians to record the event.

I have privately observed that during the Yuanfeng era, the prisons of Kaifeng Prefecture held no prisoners. Emperor Shenzong was delighted and promoted the prefect, Wang Anli, to Right Councilor. From the clerks on down, all received rewards. From then on, officials inside and outside the court regarded an empty prison as a cause for celebration. Renzong rewarded judicial officials because lawsuits were few; Shenzong promoted the prefect because the prison was empty. Both acts were meant to show their care for the people.

Laozi said, “The people do not constantly fear death; how, then, can you use death to frighten them? If the people always feared death, then even if there were lawbreakers, I could seize and execute them—and who would dare to offend again?” Our founding emperors did not use the threat of punishment to frighten the people. Perhaps they had learned something from Laozi’s teachings.

While lecturing on the Classic of Poetry, the discussion reached the poem “Wind, Not Wind,” with its lines, “Who can cook a fish? Rinse the pot and steamer for him.” Renzong said, “Laozi’s teaching that governing a great state is like cooking a small fish is close in meaning to these lines.” The reader-in-waiting, Ding Du, replied, “If a fish is turned too often while cooking, it falls apart; if the people are governed with burdensome and frequent edicts, they scatter. Unless one is a sage of deep learning, how could one discern the ancient understanding of good governance?”

I say: The sage rulers of antiquity lived in times that called for great action. At times they had to establish a new dynasty; at others, they had to remedy abuses. They could hardly avoid taking vigorous measures. Renzong, however, maintained an era of peace through the quiet and Wuwei (non-action) approach, preserving what had already been achieved, and remained consistent for forty-two years. He must have grasped the principle of “cooking a small fish” and put it into practice himself. That is why I say that Emperor Wen of Han’s approach to governing came from Laozi, and that Renzong’s rule closely resembled his. Shenzong once said, “I have nothing to criticize in Emperor Wen of Han.” This shows his intention to carry on Emperor Wen’s way of governing.

Han Jiang said, “Lin Xianke sent his son to deliver a letter to me. In it, he listed and criticized many failings of ministers inside and outside the court. I did not dare to leave this unreported to Your Majesty.”

Emperor Renzong replied, “I do not want to keep the letter in the palace. I fear that doing so would encourage people to slander others in secret and expose their private affairs. You may take it back and burn it.”

Han Jiang said, “Laozi says, ‘Everyone in the world seems enlightened; I alone seem dull. Everyone in the world seems perceptive; I alone seem confused.’ He also says, ‘When government orders are generous and indistinct, the people are simple and honest; when government orders are fussy and exacting, the people fall into hardship.’ By reporting Lin Xianke’s words to Your Majesty and distinguishing right from wrong in them, I have seemed very perceptive indeed. Emperor Renzong feared that this might encourage people to attack one another in secret, and refused to accept the letter. His consideration was far-reaching and thorough. To seem so dull that one can scarcely be understood, and so generous that one’s intentions are hard to fathom: this is why sages become sages, and why the people can remain simple and honest.”

At the time, Sima Guang was serving as deputy governor of Bingzhou. He once submitted a memorial asking that someone from the imperial clan be chosen to serve as acting heir apparent. The author says, “Since the middle period of the Tang dynasty, rulers have disliked hearing talk of establishing an heir, considering it inauspicious. As a result, scholars throughout the realm dared not speak frankly about matters fundamental to the security of the state. Sima Guang, a minister distant from the court, nevertheless raised the matter in a memorial without the slightest concealment. Although Emperor Renzong was already advanced in years, he could still hear such words without avoiding the subject. Laozi says, ‘One who bears the misfortune of the state can become ruler of all under Heaven.’ Emperor Renzong lived up to this. Laozi also says, ‘True words are often unpleasant to hear.’ Sima Guang lived up to this.”

Chen Zhongshu said, “Laozi believed that the world is a sacred vessel and cannot be governed by force. To force things is to ruin them. He also said that governing a great state is like cooking a small fish. There is no need to turn it over and over; simply regulate the water and the heat and let it cook. This is probably what Shun meant by governing through Wuwei (non-action).”

He also said, “Emperor Wu of Han abandoned the teachings of Huang-Lao and turned to Confucian methods. Although he too took benevolence and righteousness as his foundation, the actual results were scarcely different from those under Qin Shi Huang. During Emperor Wu’s reign, the realm did not know a single day of peace. People longed for the prosperous times of Emperors Wen and Jing, but there was no way to return to them. In light of this, what had the teachings of Huang-Lao done to deserve blame from the world?”

He also said, “Shu Guang told his nephew Shu Shou, ‘Those who know contentment will not be disgraced; those who know when to stop will not invite danger. Once you have achieved success in office and established your reputation, if you still do not leave, you may well live to regret it.’ So the uncle and nephew successively pleaded illness, resigned from office, and returned to their home village. People of their time praised them, and later generations have continued to recount what they did. Their understanding of when to stop came from Laozi.” These passages appear in the Collected Works of Liaozhai.

Ouyang Xiu said, “Things follow one another, and long and short become apparent in relation to each other. Extend this principle and it applies to the underlying patterns of all things. Although the words in Laozi’s book may seem empty and abstruse, it explains with great clarity the principles of governing the people.”

He also said, “The Daoist school esteems quietude and simplicity, casts off forcefulness and craving, and remains calm and self-contained. Thus Laozi says, ‘When I practice Wuwei, the people transform themselves; when I love stillness, the people set themselves right.’ Even a sage who occupies the throne and governs the world cannot change this principle.” These passages appear in Ouyang Xiu’s collected works.

Su Zhe said that the Daoist school esteems quietude and simplicity, casts off forcefulness and craving, and remains calm and self-contained. Thus Laozi says, “When I practice Wuwei, the people transform themselves; when I love stillness, the people set themselves right.” Even a sage who occupies the throne and governs the world cannot change this principle. This passage appears in Su Zhe’s collected works.

Su Shi says that, among the surviving writings of his father, Su Xun, compiled by his nephew Su Mai and others, he read the following passage:

“Yesterday Su Zhe sent me his newly written New Interpretation of the Laozi. I had not finished the whole volume when I put it down and exclaimed: ‘Had this book existed during the Warring States period, Confucius and Laozi would have been regarded as one; had it existed in the Jin and Song dynasties, Buddhism and Daoism would not have been seen as two separate schools.’ I never expected to encounter such a marvelous book only in my old age. Now I know that it accords perfectly with Su Shi’s own mind.”

This passage appears in the Postface to the Interpretation of the Daodejing.

Su Shi goes on to say: Confucius governed the world through benevolence, righteousness, ritual, and music, while Laozi advocated cutting these off and setting them aside. Some people therefore believe their ideas differ. The Book of Changes says, “What is above form is called the Dao; what is below form is called a vessel.” Confucius thought deeply and far ahead, fearing that later generations might know only the abstract Great Dao and have no way to put it into practice. So he taught people concrete rules of ritual and institutions, subtly lodging the Great Dao within them. In this way, those of middling or lesser ability could abide by these practical norms and avoid being confused by remote and abstruse principles, thereby remaining worthy gentlemen; those of greater ability could go further and grasp the Great Dao through them.

Laozi was different. He devoted himself to clarifying the Great Dao and was eager to open people’s minds, so he spoke of the Dao directly and placed less emphasis on concrete norms. He believed that if learners understood only rules of ritual and institutions, the Great Dao would instead be obscured. Thus he called for cutting off benevolence and righteousness and setting aside ritual and music in order to make the Great Dao clear. Both sages, Confucius and Laozi, acted out of necessity: to emphasize one side inevitably meant leaving the other aside to some degree.

Su Shi also says: Han Fei expounded Laozi’s thought, yet used techniques of law and administrative control to persuade the feudal lords. Li Si studied under Xun Qing, yet used deceit and force to assist the state of Qin. Later, when Qin Shi Huang burned the classics and executed Confucian scholars, Li Si himself ultimately died under brutal punishment. Tracing the origins of what they learned, one finds that it all came from the sages; yet the actions they took in practice were ones that even upright people in their own villages could not bear to carry out. Could what they had learned have led them to this?

The teachings of Laozi and Xun Qing were originally beneficial. Even if they had their shortcomings, they were not enough to ruin the world. Why, then, were the teachings of these two schools misused and brought to such an end? Because those who studied them had not fully understood their principles. A deviation of a hair’s breadth can lead to a separation of a thousand miles.

Master Lu of Taoshan, a farmer and teacher, said: Since the Qin dynasty, the learning of nature and life has no longer been valued by people, and Dao and De have consequently been divided for a long time. Scholars in the world have, unfortunately, been misled by books that are incomplete, unfair, and concerned with only one side of the truth. They spend their days immersed in shallow commentaries and legends, and so lose their awareness of the nature of their own nature and life. They no longer understand the pure and complete principles of Heaven and Earth, or the fundamental essentials grasped by the ancients. I feel deep sorrow over this. I believe the Daode Jing is a work in which Guan Yin asked questions with sincerity and Laozi answered with earnest intent. It contains many profound and subtle meanings and principles that can awaken those obscured by doctrines and help them regain awareness of the nature of their own nature and life. Sadly, these principles have been muddled by shallow commentaries, and for more than a thousand years few people have understood them. That is why I wrote this commentary, to clarify what has been obscured.

Yet there have been many sages in the world, and Laozi’s is not the only work to expound the principles of Dao and De. Laozi’s work is concise; the Liezi is more detailed, and the Zhuangzi more detailed still. In my explanations, therefore, I draw on the fuller discussions in the Liezi and the Zhuangzi and consider them together, hoping not to depart from the original meaning of the principles of Dao and De. See the commentary on this scripture.

Master Luo Congyan of Yanping, courtesy name Zhongsu, said: Confucius neither praised Laozi’s writings nor criticized them. Perhaps he thought that if he praised them, later scholars might become absorbed in the teaching of “concealing one’s brilliance and blending with the world,” and thereby grow unconstrained; if he criticized them, how could the teaching that “stillness and quietude are the right way for the world” be criticized? Since Confucius neither praised nor criticized them, could he not have offered at least a brief explanation? So he said only that, in private, he was willing to compare himself to Lao Peng. See Master Luo’s Recorded Sayings.

Someone asked the Venerable Yang Wenjing of Gui Mountain, Yang Shi, posthumously titled Wenjing: …

Someone asked Lord Yang Wenjing of Guishan (the Song dynasty Neo-Confucian Yang Shi): “Some say that ‘Lao Peng’ refers to Laozi and Peng Jian, the legendary long-lived Pengzu. It does not mean that Pengzu was old; rather, Laozi and Pengzu are grouped together under the name ‘Lao Peng.’ So was Laozi’s book truly a case of ‘transmitting without creating, and trusting and loving the ancients’?”

Yang Shi replied: “Laozi took following nature as his foundation. It is reasonable to say that he did not create new teachings.” See Collected Works of Guishan.

Yang Shi also said: “Only by completely casting aside selfish motives and distracting thoughts can one respond to the affairs of the world. Laozi says, ‘Be fair and selfless, and you can become a ruler.’” See Recorded Sayings.

Lord Lü of Rongyang (the Song dynasty Lü Xizhe) once wrote the words “In governing people and serving Heaven, nothing is better than restraint” in large characters on the wall before his seat. He said: “A person cultivating themself takes these words as an important principle for preserving life. But whatever one does, one must be careful and steadfast, always leaving some margin. The principles for cultivating oneself, safeguarding one’s family, and bringing stability to the state all come down to this; it is not merely a matter of preserving life.” See Miscellaneous Records of the Kouguo Clan.

Wang Zishao, courtesy name Shengmei, said: “Zhuangzi could not fathom Liezi. Liezi was careful and steadfast, always leaving some margin. The principles for cultivating oneself, safeguarding one’s family, and bringing stability to the state all come down to this; it is not merely a matter of preserving life.” See Miscellaneous Records of the Kouguo Clan.

Wang Zishao also said: “Zhuangzi could not fathom Liezi, and Liezi could not fathom Laozi.” Lord Lü of Rongyang replied: “If even Zhuangzi could not fathom Liezi, who could? If even Liezi could not fathom Laozi, who could? Therefore, no one fathoms Liezi better than Zhuangzi, and no one fathoms Laozi better than Liezi.” See Lü’s Miscellaneous Records of Teachers and Friends.

Duke Wen of Sima (Sima Guang, courtesy name Junshi, posthumously titled Duke Wen of Wen) wrote to Wang Jiepu (Wang Anshi):

“When I was once in your company, I knew that you had read widely and especially admired the teachings of Mencius and Laozi. Now you hold high office and have the power to put your views into practice. You ought first to act on the principles you approve of, rather than begin by doing things you yourself reject.

“Mencius said, ‘All you need to speak of is benevolence and righteousness; why bring up profit?’ He also said, ‘If you serve as the people’s parent, yet make them toil all year until they have no money to support their parents and must borrow to make up the difference, how can you be called the people’s parent?’

“Now that you are in government, you have first established the Bureau for the Regulation of Government (an office charged with drafting and implementing the new laws), devoting yourself to the pursuit of wealth and profit. You have also ordered Xue Xiang to implement the Equal Transport Law in the Huai and Yangzi regions (a system in which the government distributed goods and stabilized prices), seeking to take profits from merchants. And you have sent commissioners throughout the country to distribute Green Sprouts loans (government loans to farmers during the lean season) and collect interest, leaving the people anxious and distressed. Fathers and sons cannot see one another; brothers, wives, and children are scattered. Can this really be what Mencius meant?

“Laozi said, ‘The world is a sacred vessel; it cannot be governed by force. Those who act forcefully will fail; those who insist on holding on will lose what they have.’ He also said, ‘When I practice Wuwei (non-action), the people transform themselves; when I favor stillness, the people set themselves right; when I avoid meddling, the people grow wealthy; when I have no desires, the people become simple and honest.’ He further said, ‘Governing a great state is like cooking a small fish.’ Yet now that you are in government, you have changed nearly all the old laws handed down by our ancestors: what was once in front you have put behind; what was above you have moved below; what was on the right you have shifted to the left, and what was on the left you have shifted to the right. You have even undone things that were already accomplished. You press ahead with reform day and night, until no one in the court or the countryside can carry on as before or keep to familiar routines. The government is in turmoil, and no one can live in peace. Can this really be what Laozi meant?”

Sima Guang called himself “the Old Fool,” a self-deprecating name for someone he considered impractical, and once wrote a work titled The Book of the Old Fool. In a chapter called “Laozi and Buddhism,” he records someone asking, “Is there anything worthwhile in the teachings of Laozi and Buddhism?” The Old Fool replied, “Yes.” The person then asked, “What is worthwhile in them?” He answered, “What is worthwhile in Buddhism is emptiness; what is worthwhile in Laozi is Wuwei and following things as they are.”

He also said that some who studied the teachings of Huangdi and Laozi mistook a mind like dead ashes and a body like withered wood for Wuwei. The Old Fool disagreed and composed “An Ode to Wuwei,” which says: “Set the mind in order to cultivate the self; keep still to preserve yourself. Let advancing and retreating accord with what is right; leave gain and loss to fate. Keeping to the Dao depends on oneself; bringing things to fruition depends on Heaven’s will. What, then, is there to force? Let everything follow its natural course.” These passages are found in Sima Guang’s Collected Works for the Inheritance of the Family.

In a memorial urging Emperor Jingzong of the Tang to seek out Daoist masters, Li Deyu wrote: “I have heard that, among those who spoke of the highest realms of the Dao, none surpassed Guang Chengzi and Xuanyuan (Laozi). Among the sages of the human world, none surpassed the Yellow Emperor Xuanyuan and Confucius.

“Long ago, the Yellow Emperor Xuanyuan asked Guang Chengzi about the essentials of cultivating body and mind. Guang Chengzi replied: ‘Do not look, and do not listen. Let the spirit settle into stillness, and the body will naturally become upright; the spirit will naturally become clear. Do not overwork the body or dissipate your essence and vital energy. In this way, you can live long.’ He also said: ‘Those who attain my Dao may become emperors above or kings below.’

“Laozi also said to Confucius: ‘Cast off your pride and excessive desires, and rein in your frivolous manner and overreaching ambitions. These do you no good, either in body or mind. That is all I have to tell you.’ The Yellow Emperor Xuanyuan therefore exclaimed, ‘Heavens! Could there truly be such a person?’ Confucius, too, marveled that Laozi was like a divine dragon, impossible to fathom. Had the sages of earlier times not already attained the utmost understanding of the Dao? If Guang Chengzi and Laozi were to conceal their identities and come into the world to explain the Dao of governance to Your Majesty, I imagine they would say nothing beyond this.” This passage appears in the Collected Works of Li Deyu.

The Hermit of Xiangshan, Bai Juyi, said: “To make people’s hearts simple and sincere, and the ways of the world clear and peaceful, nothing is more important than following the Way of the Yellow Emperor and Laozi—their teachings on governing and self-cultivation. Its essentials are generosity and simplicity, and esteem for frugality; it does not parade acuity of hearing and sight, nor rely blindly on cleverness and intelligence. Those who know how to apply these principles can bring stillness and peace whether they govern a county, a commandery, a state, or the whole realm.

“Long ago, Mi Jian understood this principle. Without leaving his hall, he brought the people of Shanfu under the influence of benevolence. Ji An understood it, too: without leaving his office, he governed Donghai Commandery well. Cao Can understood it, so he did not disturb the prisons or marketplaces, and the state of Qi became peaceful and harmonious. Emperor Wen of Han understood it, and so he governed the realm well without relying on harsh punishments and severe laws. These results came about for no other reason than stillness and Wuwei (non-action).” This passage appears in Bai Juyi’s Collected Works from the Changqing Era.

Su Shi states in the Stele for the Shangqing Palace of Auspicious Blessings, which he wrote by imperial command:

I have carefully examined the matter. The Daoist school originally traces its roots to the Yellow Emperor and Laozi. It takes quietude and Wuwei (non-action) as its foundation; its function is to be empty, still, lucid, and responsive to all things; and its guiding principles are compassion, frugality, and not contending. This accords with the Book of Changes, which speaks of “neither thought nor worry,” and with the Analects, which says that the benevolent are tranquil and long-lived.

From the Qin and Han dynasties onward, Daoism began to adopt the claims of the fangshi—practitioners of techniques such as seeking immortality and alchemy. Thus arose methods of practice such as techniques for flying as an immortal and undergoing transformation, the Yellow Court Scripture, and the Great Cavern Scripture of Perfection. Rituals were performed to worship divine beings such as the Most High Heavenly Perfected, the Duke of Wood, and the Queen Mother of Metal, as well as deities such as the Celestial Emperor, Taiyi, Ziwei, and the Northern Pole. Lower in rank came minor arts such as elixirs, extraordinary techniques, and Fulu (talismans and registers); these too were classed as Daoist. I once remarked privately that the Dao of the Yellow Emperor and Laozi is the root, while the claims of the fangshi are merely branches.

Su Shi also writes in Record of the Gai Gong Hall:

When Cao Can served as chancellor of Qi, he heard that Gai Gong of Jiaoxi, renowned for teaching the learning of Huang-Lao, was skilled in governing, and sent someone to invite him. Cao Can adopted Gai Gong’s counsel, and Qi was governed well as a result. Later, he applied the methods he had used to govern Qi to the governance of the realm, and people have praised his wisdom ever since.

When I served as governor of Jiaoxi, I knew that Gai Gong was from the region. I searched for his tomb and descendants, but found neither, and felt deep regret and longing. I studied his teachings and imagined what sort of person he had been. Cao Can was a senior minister of the Han, while Gai Gong was able to serve as his teacher—this may be called a great honor. Yet the histories do not record what became of Gai Gong in the end. Could he have been one of the perfected beings of antiquity who attained the Dao and never died? The passages above are found in Su Shi’s collected writings.

Tang Geng of Meishan, whose courtesy name was Zixi, says:

People doubt the story that Laozi traveled west. They reason that since he advocated compassion, frugality, and not placing oneself at the head of the world, and carried these principles into practice, he should have been able to live anywhere. Why, then, did he leave? This view is quite mistaken. It was precisely because there was no place that could not accommodate him that even in lands of the barbarians his principles could be put into practice. This is a distinctive feature of the way of Laozi. This text appears in the Meishan Collection.

Zhang You-shi (Zhang Lei, courtesy name Wenqian, who once served as Assistant Director in the Left Department of the Secretariat) says in his Meaning of the Laozi: “Many people die in this world from causes such as their bedding, food and drink, or illness. If we add those killed by bandits and those put to death under the law, the number must be more than half. So people do not, in fact, truly fear death. This is the point Laozi’s teachings seek to explain.” This passage appears in the Meishan Collection.

Zhang You-shi also says in his Meaning of the Laozi: “People already die from their bedding, food and drink, and illness. Add deaths caused by bandits and legal punishments, and the dead must make up more than half. This shows that people do not truly fear death. Yet those who govern the people and order the world want people to be afraid, and use death to threaten them. This is surely a delusion.

“So the Laozi says: ‘If the people do not fear death, how can they be frightened with death?’ If the people really feared death, then when I seized and killed those who did strange things, the people ought to stop doing strange things. But punishments have never been absent from the world, and those who do strange things have not stopped. This shows that the death penalty alone is not enough to make people afraid. That is why it also says: ‘If the people really feared death, and someone did strange things, then if I seized and killed him, who would dare do so again?’

“Nothing in the world lacks a force that brings it to an end. All things bustle and change, yet in the end they must move toward extinction for their course to be complete. The world therefore has a force that governs killing. If one presumes to replace this natural order and use it to frighten the people, it will neither make them afraid nor always succeed. So the Laozi says: ‘There is always one who presides over killing, and kills.’ This means that a force governing killing is always carrying out its role. To act in place of the one who presides over killing is like taking the place of a skilled carpenter and chopping wood: one is unlikely to avoid injuring one’s own hand.”

From this, it seems that seizing the authority to issue orders, impose punishments, and determine life and death, in order to make a whole generation of people obey oneself, is probably not a proper course.

Zhang Lei also says: “Precisely because one does not act from self-interest, one can fulfill one’s aims. If one pursues private gain single-mindedly, the people of the world will turn away. Only by holding to the public good can one win the people’s wholehearted allegiance. Once the people of the world have come to you, what aim could remain unfulfilled?”

In a preface written to send off Zhang Jian, a recluse of Gushi Mountain, Zhang Lei also says: “Zhizhou once told me the wondrous methods for nourishing one’s nature and cultivating oneself. He said: ‘The Great Dao is very simple: all one needs is to guard the spirit. Guarding the heart has no special secret; it is simply to hold to the One. When stillness and concentration reach their utmost, one can connect with the mysterious Dao and become open to all directions; the True Qi responds in turn. This cannot be fathomed through thought or fully expressed in words. Only those who experience it for themselves understand. When the True Qi descends, every illness can be dispelled, and one can live a long life.’

“Laozi says: ‘Make the heart empty and still; make the belly full. Make the will soft and yielding; make the sinews and bones strong.’ When the heart and spirit are empty and still, and the will soft and yielding, the belly naturally becomes full, and the sinews and bones naturally grow strong. The wise understood this way of cultivation and used it to practice ‘cessation and contemplation’—stilling stray thoughts and observing the mind. Sima Ziwei, in turn, developed from it the practice of ‘sitting in oblivion’—sitting in meditation and forgetting the body and distracting thoughts. In the end, both point to the same Dao.

“These are all essential methods of self-cultivation for realized people who have attained the Dao. People today overlook them and instead wear out their bodies, vainly seeking extraordinary transformations and swallowing medicines made from minerals and metals. As a result, they move ever farther from the Dao.” This passage appears in Zhang Lei’s collected works.

Wang Wujiao (named Bu Zhi) once explained the essential meaning of the Dao Jing, the “Classic of the Way,” in the Laozi. Yet people today ignore these principles, tormenting their bodies and vainly pursuing extraordinary transformations. They also swallow medicines made by refining metals and minerals, with the result that they move ever farther from the Dao. See this collection for details.

Wang Wujiao once explained four chapters of the Dao Jing in the Laozi; two of his explanations are selected here. One says: The sage handles affairs through Wuwei (non-action) and teaches people without relying on words. The sage does not deliberately set out to act or preach, but simply follows the nature and rhythms of life proper to each thing. When all things arise, I let them arise and do not resist them. When they grow, I let them grow with the natural course of things and do not claim them as my own. When they act, I let them act as they will and do not take pride in my own ability. When they accomplish something, I help bring it to completion and do not claim the credit. The arising, growth, activity, and completion of all things follow the natural order and unfold with the things themselves and the times. They do not result from anyone’s personal will. Why, then, should I resist, possess, take pride in, or claim credit for them?

Thus it is said: All things arise together, and I do not resist them. I let them grow, but do not claim them as my own. I act, but do not take pride in my ability. I bring things to completion, but do not claim the credit. Things arise first, then grow; after growing, they act, and only at last do they come to completion. This is the order of things.

Another explanation says: Why did Laozi especially detest excessive speech? Laozi expounded the Dao. The Dao is usually silent, though at times it speaks out of necessity. Because speech is necessary, it can be used; but since the Dao is usually silent, the less one says, the closer one is to the Dao, and the more one says, the farther one is from it. This is why Laozi especially detested excessive speech. See this collection for details.

Mr. Qin Guan of Huaihai says: Ban Gu criticized Sima Qian, claiming that his judgments about the sages were often mistaken and that, when discussing the Great Dao, he placed the teachings of Huang-Lao ahead of the Six Classics. Who would have thought that someone of Sima Qian’s exceptional talent and extensive learning could have done such a thing?

In my view, that is not how matters stand. Sima Qian had good reason for writing as he did. Mencius says, “Benevolence is what it means to be human; when benevolence and humanity are spoken of together, that is the Dao.” Yang Xiong also says, “The Dao guides people; De enables them to gain; benevolence makes them humane; righteousness makes things fitting; and ritual gives conduct its proper form. These are all expressions of the Way of Heaven.” Dao and De together form a complete, undivided whole; when distinguished, they appear as different aspects. Dao and De encompass benevolence, righteousness, and ritual, while benevolence, righteousness, and ritual are only distinct facets of Dao and De. The teachings of Huang-Lao value the whole and do not dwell on distinctions, so they take the Dao as their foundation. The teachings of the Six Classics say less about the whole and more about particular distinctions, so they take benevolence, righteousness, and ritual as practical standards. When Sima Qian discussed the Great Dao, he spoke first of Huang-Lao and then of the Six Classics. Was it not because he understood this point?

Qin Guan also says: The histories record that Cui Hao compared himself to Zhang Liang, claiming that his skill in studying ancient events surpassed Zhang Liang’s. In my view, Cui Hao was not even the equal of Xun Yu or Jia Xu. How could he dare to compare himself with Zhang Liang? Zhang Liang’s courtesy name was Zifang. One who cultivates himself through the profound Dao and then uses his remaining strength to govern the world, withdrawing once his work is done, belongs to the Daoist school. One who observes celestial phenomena and studies the changes of the seasons in order to assist human affairs may be skilled in particular matters, yet fail to understand the root; this belongs to the Yin-Yang school.

Zhang Liang first traveled to Xiapi, where he received a military text from an old man on a bridge. Later, he continually hoped to cast off worldly affairs and roam with Master Red Pine. The arts he studied probably came from the Daoist school. Cui Hao was versed in divination and occult techniques. His accounts of the planet Yinghuo entering Qin territory, a comet foretelling the fall of the Jin dynasty, and a rabbit emerging from the inner palace, along with Yao Xing’s offering of women, all seem extraordinary. Later, he rejected the Laozi and Zhuangzi, condemning their teachings as false and deceptive. This shows that his divination and occult techniques probably belonged only to the Yin-Yang school. That is where the two differ. The foregoing is from the Huaihai Collection.

In the preface to “Ode to a Footstool,” Tian Xieyi Xi says: “For a dragon to rise, it must rely on a tree; for a ruler to rise, he must also rely on others as a stepping-stone. Some sages never hold high office, and some worthy men keep their talents hidden. Yet through reputation and practical achievement they can complement one another, and through their abilities they can help one another succeed. A worthy man like Liming was Confucius’s ‘footstool’—the means by which he could accomplish his work—and so he was able to expound the Spring and Autumn Annals and pass its teachings down to later generations. A worthy man like Yin Xi, the frontier official said to have asked Laozi to write a book, was Laozi’s ‘footstool’; he was therefore able to seek Laozi’s instruction in the Dao of De and pass it down to later generations.” This account appears in the Xianping Collection.

Duke Fan Zhongwen Zhen says: “The two texts written by Laozi explain the principles from the Dao before Heaven’s formation to the union of Yin and Yang. Their language is concise, yet their meaning is complete.” This account appears in the Shu Duke’s Collection.

Duke Chao Wenyuan Jiong says: “Many celebrated worthies, both in ancient times and today, enjoy reading the Laozi and the Zhuangzi. Though they speak of Wuwei and doing nothing, they contain principles of the highest beauty and joy. Their language is concise, yet their meaning is complete.” This account appears in the Shu Duke’s Collection.

Duke Chao Wenyuan Jiong also says: “When Laozi says, ‘The five colors blind the eye; the five tones deafen the ear; the five flavors dull the palate,’ he means that excessive pursuit of color, music, and delicacies harms the senses. The sayings of sages may sometimes be forceful in their efforts to correct the ills of the age, but their intention—to urge people to restrain desire and avoid harm—is deeply sincere. If people do not become absorbed in pleasures for the eyes and ears, or indulge their appetites, then whatever they may gain, they are at least certain not to suffer harm from these pursuits.” This account appears in the New Compilation of Zhaode.

He also says: “When Laozi says, ‘Knowing the constant is called clarity,’ he means that only those who understand what is constant can be called wise. Ordinary people know that the alternation of day and night is constant, but do not know that human nature, too, remains constant. Those who cultivate the Dao regard life and death as like the alternation of day and night, understanding that human nature remains unchanged even through life and death. Their minds are therefore clear and at ease, and they face life and death without anxiety or fear.” This account appears in the Remaining Writings of an Aged Man’s Wisdom.

Li Taibo of Xujiang says: “Han Yu once said, ‘Laozi said that Confucius was a disciple of my teacher; the Buddhists, meanwhile, say…’”

Li Taibo of Xujiang, in the area of present-day Jiangxi, said: “Han Yu once remarked that followers of Laozi claimed Confucius was Laozi’s disciple, while Buddhists likewise claimed that Confucius had been a disciple of a Buddhist teacher. Those who heard these claims for a long time and took pleasure in their absurdity came to look down on Confucius. Some even said, ‘My own teacher used to say this too.’ I cannot investigate the Buddhist claim in detail. Both the Questions of Zengzi and the Records of the Grand Historian, in its ‘Biography of Laozi,’ record that Confucius sought Laozi’s advice on ritual. Historical records are not necessarily all reliable; but the Book of Rites is a Confucian classic. Could it too contain falsehoods?” This passage appears in the Collected Drafts from Retirement.

Chao Shuozhi, known as the Recluse of Jingyu from Mount Song, said: “After Fuxi, King Wen of Zhou, and the Duke of Zhou expounded the Classic of Changes, only Laozi truly grasped its principles of change and free movement, of bending and extending, advancing and withdrawing. He understood the value of gentleness and weakness, the importance of emptiness and stillness, and the need to follow things as they are without insisting on forcing them. He therefore wrote with earnest purpose, and fortunately his book has survived.”

He also said: “Did Wang Bi, in commenting on the two parts of Laozi’s Dao De Jing, truly understand Laozi’s teachings? His commentary probably belongs to the same kind as Yan Junping’s An Outline of Laozi. Wang Bi held that benevolence, righteousness, and ritual cannot function through their own power, but must rely on the Dao to be put into practice; that all things in Heaven and Earth each receive a portion of the Dao. Are these ideas merely a contribution to Laozi’s teachings? Anyone who studies the ancient masters must understand this.”

He further said: “Wang Bi knew that sharp weapons are inauspicious, and that even a victory in battle should be treated with the solemnity of a funeral. But the lines ‘Those who are always good at helping people leave no one abandoned; those who are always good at helping things leave nothing abandoned’ are not Laozi’s original text. They appear only in the version with Heshang Gong’s commentary, and not in the ancient editions. Fortunately, Fu Yi clarified this point.” These passages are found in Chao Shuozhi’s collected works.

Li Zhaoqi said: “The writings of Guiguzi and Han Feizi trace the roots of Dao and De and at times approach profound principles. But how could they truly have understood Laozi? They simply happened to say things that hit upon some of the truth.” This statement appears in the Collected Works of Master Luanjing.

Bi Zhongban of Xitai said, “Laozi says: ‘Only after the Dao is lost do people speak of De; only after De is lost do they speak of benevolence; only after benevolence is lost do they speak of ritual. Ritual is the outward ornament of the Dao and the beginning of disorder.’ I have never heard anyone say that ritual is merely the outward ornament of the Dao and also the beginning of disorder.” Yet ritual originally ranked below benevolence and righteousness, and beneath the Dao and De. Later generations could not govern the world through ritual, so they entrusted governance to law; law, in turn, ranked below ritual and beneath benevolence and righteousness.

Su Zhu of Meishan was the grandson of Lord Wending of Yingbin, Su Zhe. He recorded his grandfather’s final remarks: “My grandfather once explained several chapters of the Laozi to me, saying that Laozi stood two or three grades above Mencius.” He also said, “For discussion of the highest principles, nothing surpasses the five thousand words of the Daodejing.” In his later years, Su Zhe also wrote a poem: “Recently I have kept my annotations to the eighty-one chapters of the Daodejing; I am a seeker of the Dao in Lao Dan’s school.” This shows that the older he grew, the deeper his attainment became—something ordinary people could scarcely fathom. All of this appears in Final Remarks.

End of Volume One of Collected Commentaries and Miscellaneous Discussions on the True Scripture of the Dao and De.

Collected Commentaries and Miscellaneous Discussions on the True Scripture of the Dao and De, Volume Two

Compiled by Peng Si of Hualin in the Song dynasty.

On the jiwei day of the second month in the first year of Qianfeng during the reign of Emperor Gaozong of Tang, the emperor stayed at Bozhou, visited the Temple of Lord Lao, and posthumously honored Laozi with the title “Supreme Emperor of the Mysterious Origin.”

On the bingchen day of the first month in the second year of the Tianbao era, Xuanzong posthumously bestowed on the Xuanyuan Emperor (a Tang dynasty honorific for Laozi) the title “Great Sage Ancestor.” He also honored Laozi’s father, the Zhou official Jing, as “Supreme Emperor of the Primordial Heaven,” and his mother, of the Yishou clan, as “Empress Dowager of the Primordial Heaven.” On the jiawu day of the tenth month in the fourteenth year of Tianbao, the court distributed throughout the realm the emperor’s commentary on the Laozi and his explanatory subcommentary, a work interpreting the scripture. During the Tianbao era, the Laozi was also given the title “Scripture of Dao and De, Mysteriously Penetrating,” but later generations did not adopt it. These records appear in the “Treatise on Literature” of the New Book of Tang.

On the gengwu day of the eighth month in the sixth year of the Dazhong Xiangfu era, the court issued an edict conferring on the Lord Lao the honorific title “Supreme Lord Lao, Emperor of Primordial Unity and Highest De.” In the spring of the following year, on the renyin day of the first month, the emperor set out from the eastern capital. He arrived at Zhenyuan County on the bingwu day; on the wushen day he ordered the chancellor Wang Dan to present the imperial proclamation and seal; and on the jiyou day he paid homage at the Taiqing Palace. These records appear in the Comprehensive Account of the Nine Temples.

In the second month of the second year of the Jingde era, Sun Shi, an instructor at the Imperial College, submitted a memorial stating: Among the writings of the various masters, the teachings of Laozi and Zhuangzi are the most important. They advocate quietude and emptiness as a way of maintaining oneself, humility and gentleness in handling affairs, and take freedom, Wuwei (non-action), the preservation of life, and the aid of all beings as their aims. These teachings can all serve as strategies for a sage governing the realm. For this reason, scholars in earlier times who compiled canonical works also placed the writings of Laozi and Zhuangzi after the scriptures. Lu Deming of the Tang dynasty compiled the thirty-volume Explanations of the Classics, including three volumes of Explanations of the Laozi. Today, twenty-seven volumes—the scriptures and the Explanations of the Laozi—have all been printed from woodblocks, while the three volumes of Explanations of the Zhuangzi are the only ones missing. Sun Shi requested that officials collate and print them from woodblocks, following the precedent of the Dao De Jing. The emperor approved. These records appear in the Collected Essentials of the State.

In the third year of the Tianxi era, the court announced that a heavenly text had descended. Sun Shi, then governor of Yan Prefecture, submitted a memorial saying: “Zhu Neng is a petty man who falsely claims that auspicious signs have appeared. In the past, the so-called Treasure Scroll of the Lingbao Shangqing Scripture for Protecting the State, obtained by Emperor Xuanzong of Tang, was the work of Wang Hong, Tian Tongxiu, and others. The Lord Lao is a sage, and his revelations should not be false. Yet the Tang dynasty later endured the An Lushan Rebellion; both capitals fell. How could the realm be called peaceful? Xuanzong merely managed to return to the palace, only to be forced by Fuguo to move from place to place, and eventually he died of starvation. Can this be called boundless longevity and life everlasting? Xuanzong’s belief in heterodox teachings disrupted the principles of government, causing the people’s hearts to turn away; calamity then struck suddenly. May Your Majesty take Xuanzong’s calamities as a warning, so that disasters do not arise and disorder does not occur.” These records appear in the Comprehensive Account of the Nine Reigns.

Fang La raised an armed revolt in Youzhe, in the western part of Zhejiang, and his growing power shook the capital. Cheng Zhen, a Secretariat Drafter, said to Wang Fu, the Chief Minister, “We should use this moment to point out the ills of the realm. Perhaps we can remedy some of them and respond to the people’s wishes.” Wang Fu was displeased.

At the time, Cheng Zhen also served as a Palace Attendant to the Heir Apparent. Later, when he went to the Eastern Palace, the heir apparent asked him about the matter. Cheng Zhen replied, “Duke of Zhou wrote the poem ‘The Owl,’ and Confucius believed that he understood the way of governing the state. The poem says only that, before the rain comes, one should hurry to mend the doors and windows. Laozi also said, ‘Act on things before they come to be; bring disorder under control before it takes shape.’ This is how the teachings of Laozi and Confucius accord. To fail to strengthen the foundations in times of peace and simply contend for immediate results is not what those two sages intended.” This account appears in Cheng Zhen’s biography in the Jiu Chao Tonglüe and the Dongdu Shilüe.

When Li Gang, Duke of Ding of Li, served as vice director of the Ministry of Rites in the sixth year of the Zhenghe era, he submitted a memorial requesting permission to write a commentary on the Classic of Changes. In essence, he said: Your Majesty is naturally wise, and has cultivated that gift through luminous and profound learning. You discern the source of all things, apply subtle principles, and understand the myriad phenomena and patterns of Heaven and Earth. In the intervals between governing, Your Majesty has annotated the works of Laozi and Zhuangzi, thereby enlightening scholars throughout the realm. Your words and intentions are lofty and subtle; you can clarify truths that are difficult to express and make plain the principles of morality, nature, and life.

The Classic of Changes says that the sage has no thoughts or actions and remains still and unmoving; when stirred by an influence, the sage understands the transformations of all things under Heaven. This can indeed be brought into accord with the works of Laozi and Zhuangzi, each answering the other from beginning to end. I respectfully ask Your Majesty to decide the matter personally and write a commentary on the Classic of Changes, illuminating the virtue of the spirit and revealing the hidden principles of Heaven and Earth.

Li Gang also inscribed a poem on Li Boshi’s painting, “Laozi Leaving the Pass”:

Please explain “constant emptiness,” the gateway that opens the myriad wonders. Why was Guan Yinzi, who once sought the Dao from Laozi, so earnest in those days? The blue ox traveled westward, all the way to the desert; purple Qi rose in the east, revealing auspicious clouds. The subtle workings are contained in the empty hub of the wheel with its thirty spokes; the profound teaching is all held within the five thousand words of the Dao De Jing. People of the world do not understand that Laozi took compassion and frugality as his foundations; they devote themselves only to seeking long life, riding clouds up to Heaven.

The above is found in the Liangxi Collection.

Master Yichuan, Cheng Yi, said, “There is nothing in Daoist teaching that needs to be refuted; Buddhist teaching alone has many tangled branches that entrap people in confusion.” He also said, “Zhuangzi describes the essential nature of the Dao, and much of what he says is very good; Laozi’s chapter ‘The Valley Spirit Never Dies’ is especially good.” The above is found in the Cheng Brothers’ Recorded Sayings.

Hu Wending, Hu Anguo, said, “Among Laozi’s five thousand words, statements such as ‘I practice Wuwei,’ ‘I cherish stillness,’ and ‘I have three treasures’ are all profoundly reasonable.” This is found in the Recorded Sayings.

Xitang Xie Yi wrote in “Record of the Longevity Pavilion”: “Confucius said, ‘The benevolent live long’; Laozi said, ‘To die in body while the Dao remains undying is true longevity’; Buddhism speaks of ‘immeasurable life.’ Though the three sages’ statements differ, their meaning is the same. For the benevolent are able to fulfill their nature completely; and to fulfill one’s nature completely is…” Recorded Sayings.

In the “Record of the Longevity Pavilion” in the Xitang Collection, Xie Yi says: Confucius taught that the benevolent live long; Laozi taught that true longevity is for the spirit to remain undying after death; and Buddhism speaks of immeasurable life. Though the three sages express different views, their intentions are the same. The benevolent fully realize their nature; fully realizing one’s nature makes it possible for the body to die while the spirit remains undying. And if the spirit does not perish, how could life ever come to an end? Some people see only that hair, body hair, nails, and teeth return to earth; tears, saliva, and other fluids return to water; bodily warmth returns to fire; and movement returns to wind. They therefore assume that a person truly dies, not knowing that the clear, undeluded, ever-present nature has not vanished.

Zou Hao of Daoxiang said: “The gateway of the mysterious female” (the gateway to the source of life in the Dao De Jing), considered in terms of the human body, is the nose. The nose is where breathing enters and leaves. When the breath is long and almost imperceptible, and is used without haste or strain, it can reach deep within. The faint, deep breathing through Sun Shuao’s nose was like this. The Zhuangzi says: “The True Person breathes from the heels; ordinary people breathe from the throat.” This means that the True Person’s breath is deep, as though it reaches the heels, while ordinary people breathe shallowly, as though their breath reaches only the throat. A person under oppression speaks as if something were caught in the throat; someone immersed in desire has an inner vitality that grows shallow. The Basic Questions of the Huangdi Neijing says that without exhalation and inhalation, life cannot grow, flourish, decline, and end; without Qi rising and descending, it cannot complete the processes of growth, transformation, contraction, and storage. These four movements—rising, descending, entering, and leaving—are present in every physical form. The key is to keep them in balance over time. Understanding this is to understand why “the valley spirit never dies” (why the source that, through stillness and emptiness, gives life to all things endures). Zou Hao also said: Make the mind quiet and empty, and Qi in the abdomen will naturally become full; weaken the impulse to contend for strength, and the sinews and bones will naturally grow strong.

Mr. Shao Yong, known as Kangjie, said: The Three Sovereigns, Five Emperors, Three Kings, and Five Hegemons embody different levels of the Yi; intention, words, images, and numbers are the means by which the Yi is put to use. The Three Sovereigns shared the same intention but taught in different ways; the Five Emperors expressed similar principles but carried out different forms of instruction; the Three Kings took the same images as their models but understood and applied them differently; the Five Hegemons relied on the same numbers but followed different rules. When the intention is shared but the methods of instruction differ, it must be because they act in accordance with the Dao. When the people are taught through the Dao, the people also…

One who takes refuge in the Dao therefore honors Nature. “Nature” here means Wuwei (non-action) and non-possession. Wuwei does not mean doing absolutely nothing, but refraining from forcing things to happen; in this way, one can be expansive. Non-possession does not mean having nothing at all, but refraining from clinging to what one has; in this way, one can be generous. Those who can be expansive and thorough without forcing action or clinging to possessions are perhaps found only among ancient sage kings such as the Three Sovereigns.

Thus, when someone understands how to transform the world through the Dao, the people of the world will also turn toward the Dao. An ancient saying goes: “When I practice Wuwei, the people are naturally transformed; when I do not trouble them, they naturally grow prosperous; when I cherish stillness, they naturally become upright; when I have no desires, they naturally become simple.” This is what it means. See the “Miscellaneous Discussions” in Peng Si’s Collected Commentaries on the Dao De Jing, which quotes the Treatise on Observing Things.

Shao Bowen said: “Master Kangjie” (Shao Yong, a Northern Song Confucian scholar) believed that Laozi understood the substance—the fundamental principles—of the Classic of Changes, while Mencius understood its function—its practical application. In his writing, he called Wang Tong (courtesy name Zhongzi) a sage of the West because Wang Tong called the Buddha a sage of the West; he did not consider this claim improper. See the Records of What the Shao Family Heard and Saw.

Su Shi wrote in the “Stele Inscription for the Shangqing Palace”: “The Daoist school originated with the Yellow Emperor and Laozi. Its fundamental principle is stillness and Wuwei; it meets the myriad things with a mind that is empty, still, and clear, and takes compassion, frugality, and non-contention as its rules of conduct. These teachings accord with the Zhouyi’s ‘having nothing to think about’ and the Analects’ ‘the benevolent are tranquil and long-lived.’ That is all.”

Xie Xiandao (Xie Liangzuo, a Northern Song scholar) personally saw Cheng Yichuan (Cheng Yi, a Northern Song Confucian scholar) reciting these lines. Cheng Yi considered them the most subtle account of “benevolence” ever given, from ancient times to the present. See Shao Bo’s Later Records of What Was Heard and Seen; they are also recorded in the Xie family’s Recorded Sayings.

Zheng Xia of Xitang said, “I have heard Laozi say: ‘Know contentment, and you will not suffer disgrace; know when to stop, and you will not meet with danger.’ The Book of Changes also says: ‘What is meant by overreaching is knowing only how to advance, but not how to yield; knowing only how to endure, but not how to decline; knowing only how to gain, but not how to lose. Perhaps only a sage can understand the principles of advance and retreat, endurance and decline, gain and loss, without straying from the right path.’

“Clearly, the principles of advance and retreat, endurance and decline, and gain and loss are fundamentally one and the same. If so, why is it so difficult to know how to yield, accept decline, be content, and stop—so difficult that sages urge us repeatedly and praise these qualities? The answer is that these principles are one and the same. When advancing and retreating accord with the Dao, one does not advance rashly, and yielding is not difficult. When endurance and decline accord with the Dao, one does not take pleasure in enduring, nor fear decline. If advance, retreat, endurance, and decline all return to the Dao, then stopping when the time calls for it and acting when the time calls for it are surely consistent with one another.

“Laozi also said: ‘The highest kind of person, hearing of the Dao, works diligently to put it into practice. The middling kind, hearing of the Dao, seems to remember it and then seems to forget it. The lowest kind, hearing of the Dao, bursts out laughing. If they did not laugh at it, it would not be worthy of being called the Dao.’ He also said: ‘Precisely because the Dao is vast and boundless, it does not look like ordinary things. If it were as plainly evident as some particular thing, it would long ago have become small and narrow.’

“Whether something seems to ‘look right’ or ‘not look right’ depends on the size of what people cultivate and pursue. The common world pursues nothing but small things, so something as vast as the Dao seems out of place to ordinary people. To experience the Dao, one must accept precisely what the world considers ‘out of place’; the things the world regards as fitting and ordinary are not enough to speak of the Dao.

“The Dao is vast, and all things are small by comparison. People busy themselves all day, yet in the end remain trapped in a narrow realm because they are entangled by external things. ‘Origin’ is the beginning of goodness and may also be called the foundation for reaching a vast realm. If one reaches this realm without knowing how vast it is, one will accord with the Dao and also appear unlike the common world. When people everywhere say, ‘The Dao I speak of is too great; it seems out of place,’ it is because everyone else is clever in their calculations, striving to outdo others, while I am broad and unassuming, feeling that the world’s rival pursuits are not worth seeking. So I appear different from ordinary people, and for that reason can attain what is vast. But if I claim this vastness as my own, I will at once be little different from the common world, and in the end lose the character of the Dao. When the lowest kind of person laughs on hearing it, that itself may show that what is being said has some truth. If the Dao looked exactly like the common world, it would not be worthy of being called the Dao.

“Laozi also said: ‘Water benefits all things without contending with them. It dwells in low places that people despise, and so it is closest to the Dao.’ But if water is stirred up and changes with its surroundings, it becomes foul and murky, unfit even for washing one’s feet. This, too, is caused by the water itself. Has it not fallen into a state people despise? Those who wish to restore their original nature can learn from this: clarity comes from one’s own nature, while muddle and confusion are also brought on by oneself. Remove disturbances and delusions, and clarity will return. Afterward, even if waves rise and sediment is stirred up, even if one lives among things that are murky, nothing can alter oneself. When external things cannot alter oneself, one can remain at ease, keeping clear and pure, while others may not know that this strength comes from within.

“Water is clear by nature. When it flows through earth, it is stirred up and becomes muddy; let it settle slowly, and it will become clear again, clear enough to see even a hair. Human understanding is clear by nature, but confusion comes when it is bewitched by external things. Let the mind slowly become clear, and it can discern the workings of things, as if seeing the sun and moon. Water that was clear becomes muddy when stirred, and muddy water clears again when still. Understanding that was clear becomes confused when deluded, and after confusion, quiet reflection can restore clarity. Murkiness and confusion are often imposed on us by external things; clarity and brightness are already within us.

“A scripture says: ‘Heaven and Earth join, and sweet dew descends. No one commands it, yet the dew naturally moistens all things evenly.’ Rain and dew are small matters for Heaven and Earth, yet they are still distributed naturally and equally. How much more so the human capacity for insight and understanding?

“Some also say that before the Three Dynasties of Xia, Shang, and Zhou, there were no teachings of Confucius, Mencius, Laozi, Zhuangzi, or Buddhism. People became emperors when circumstances suited them to be emperors, and kings when circumstances suited them to be kings. These teachings appeared only after the decline of the Zhou. In fact, they all arose from concern that people were sinking into delusion and losing their way, and from the wish to offer them ways of rescue.

“He once wrote in the preface to his own ‘Celebration Hall Layman’: ‘The layman was originally a timid Confucian who took the teachings of Confucius as his guiding principle. Later, he came to understand Laozi’s teachings and used them to illuminate the delusion and loss of direction into which people had sunk.’ All the above appears in the Xitang Collection.”

Ye Mengde said: The Book of Documents begins its account with Yao and Shun, while only the Classic of Changes mentions Fuxi, Shennong, and the Yellow Emperor. From this we may infer that before Yao and Shun there were probably other sages of antiquity, though the other Six Classics record them without discussing them in detail. If we carefully grasp the principles of the Changes, we find the statement: “The Changes neither thinks nor acts recklessly. In stillness it does not move; once it responds, it understands the transformations of all things under Heaven.” If it were not the most wondrous presence in the world, who could do this? We can therefore see that the principles transmitted from age to age, from Fuxi, Shennong, and the Yellow Emperor down to Yao and Shun, never went beyond the scope of the Changes. If we then compare these principles with Laozi’s teachings, we find little difference between Laozi and the Changes.

The Analects records Confucius saying that he “privately compared himself to Lao Peng.” After Confucius, Mencius made his Confucian position unmistakably clear: he rejected Yang Zhu and Mozi, and attacked the persuaders Gongsun Yan and Zhang Yi with language even harsher than his criticism of Jie and Zhou. Yet he never criticized Laozi. Mencius’s teaching that one should “fully develop one’s heart, understand one’s nature, and thereby know Heaven’s mandate” is precisely a principle Laozi especially valued. We can therefore see that Confucius and Mencius did not reject Laozi’s writings.

Where Laozi’s words differ from Confucius, they are mostly corrective remarks directed at the customs of their time; where they agree with Confucius, they accord with the principles of the Changes. Several centuries after Laozi, Buddhism was introduced to China. Its teachings were more profound and remote, and seemed far removed from ordinary understanding. Yet if we trace them back to their underlying principles, they are almost inwardly and outwardly in accord with Laozi’s teachings.

Laozi, speaking of regulating the breath, advocated “concentrating the Qi and attaining softness,” becoming gentle like an infant. Mencius, speaking of nourishing the Qi, said it should be vast and strong, cultivated with integrity and left unharmed, filling the space between Heaven and Earth. The two teachings seem directly opposed: following Laozi would appear to mean abandoning Mencius, while following Mencius would seem to require abandoning Laozi. Yet in my view, they do not contradict one another.

When a person’s breath is scattered, it struggles against external things and becomes forceful. Gather the breath and make it single, and it returns to oneself and becomes gentle. Force alone cannot overcome force; to overcome force, one must instead use gentleness. Thus, concentrating the Qi is precisely the way to cultivate the Qi of integrity. To cultivate the Qi with integrity and keep it unharmed by outside disturbance does not mean forcibly repressing the will and leaving the breath constrained. One should instead maintain simplicity, as Zengzi did. When simplicity accumulates to its utmost, it returns to what is subtle. Thus, cultivating the Qi with integrity is also a path toward gentleness. We can therefore see that when one realizes the Great Dao in its deepest reaches, its underlying principles are originally one and the same. Finalized in “Words Spoken Beneath the Rockwood Cliff.”

Cheng Ju explains in his Beishan Collection that a “Dao” that can be expressed in words can serve to guide conduct, while things that can be expressed by names can serve as subjects for discourse. As for the constant Dao and constant names that cannot be spoken or named, the sages did not hide them or refuse to tell others about them. They simply cannot be expressed or passed on through words.

The sages of the West—here meaning the Buddha—organized the teachings into the Three Vehicles and further divided them into the twelve divisions of scripture, calling these the “teachings.” What was transmitted beyond the teachings belongs to the part that cannot be spoken or named. The sages of China followed in the footsteps of Tang Yao and Yu Shun, took King Wen and King Wu of Zhou as their models, and established such classics as the Book of Songs, the Book of Documents, the Book of Rites, and the Book of Music, calling them “classics.” Yet the principle the texts truly seek to convey lies behind their written words. Just as the footprints left by walking cannot take the place of walking itself, this principle too belongs to what cannot be spoken or named.

Laozi wrote the five thousand characters of the Dao De Jing to explain the principles to all under Heaven and guide later generations. He did not withdraw to some remote place to experience them alone. That is why he begins by discussing the “Dao that can be spoken” and the “name that can be named”: these are the matters set down in those five thousand characters. The principles that sages throughout the ages have never transmitted, however, cannot be expressed in words.

He also says that Heaven, Earth, and humanity originally come from one source. In their fundamental nature, what makes Heaven Heaven, Earth Earth, and human beings human beings is all one. Why can Heaven and Earth endure, while people cannot? Heaven does not cling to being “Heaven,” and Earth does not cling to being “Earth.” Once people take physical form, however, they regard that form as a real self and think only, “I am this person.” Believing that life cannot be sustained without external things, they chase useless desires. Believing that having a body means they must cherish it, they busy themselves with affairs beyond themselves. As a result, the more they try to enrich their lives, the more their lives are damaged; the more they try to preserve their bodies, the more ailments their bodies suffer. To escape an untimely death is already a stroke of luck.

This is precisely what Laozi meant. Those who give it no thought claim that the Huang-Lao school—a tradition that honors the thought of the Yellow Emperor and Laozi—was simply afraid of death and sought long life. Is that not a misunderstanding? Without life, what could the Dao depend on? Yet people often harm their lives because they regard life as a burden. Laozi was deeply wary even of attachment to one’s own life. How could he have turned away from the Dao and deliberately pursued longevity? This view comes only from failing to think carefully.

He also says that among all changes, none is greater than life and death. If people can transcend the distinction between life and death and realize the Dao, they will have no other concerns. Does life truly come from somewhere? Does death truly go somewhere? If life really “arrives,” then we ought to know where it comes from: north or south, east or west, above or below. Since we cannot say, how can we be sure it truly comes from somewhere? If death really “goes” somewhere, then we ought to know whether it goes to the mind, things, people, or Heaven. Since we cannot explain this, how can we be sure it truly goes somewhere?

Thus, before life, we do not know where it began; after life, we do not know where it ends. What persists through all ages, always clear and undimmed, is the fundamental reality. Understand this, and you will know that you have never truly been born or truly died. What, then, is there to fear in death?

He also says that the faults of ordinary people are easy to remove, while the subtle failings of sages and worthies are difficult to eliminate. Craving desires, damaging one’s nature, insisting on choices and rejections, and disturbing the mind are ordinary people’s faults. These are obvious, and so are easy to correct. Treating awakening as an obstacle and understanding as a constraint, however, are failings that sages may fall into. They are subtle and hard to detect, and therefore difficult to remove. Faults in conduct are plain to see, while errors in principle are subtle. It is easy to recognize external things as a source of illness, but harder to notice when the teachings themselves have become an illness. In that case, could attachment to principles and methods of practice not also become a failing that is hard to remove?

“Cleanse the mysterious mirror”—the Dao De Jing’s expression for purifying the mind and making its awareness clear—speaks precisely to this. The mysterious mirror is the distinctive insight spoken of by sages. If one clings to such profound insight, one can still be bound by understanding and awakening. If one can cleanse the mysterious mirror without clinging to the thought “I am cleansing it,” there is no fault. But if one remains attached to the act of cleansing itself, then awakening has once again become an obstacle.

He also says that it is easy to understand how sages do not harm the people. But how do sages also ensure that spirits and ghosts do not harm them? People dwell within the Dao, and the Dao dwells within people, just as fish live in water and water is bound up with fish. What sharp distinction, then, is there between life and death? When sages govern all under Heaven through the Dao, the people live in calm and quiet, and so can live in peace; when they die, they are likewise calm and still, and so can face death peacefully. If all is so tranquil, how could spirits and ghosts cause trouble? Since life is like this and death is like this too, how could ghosts appear, bring calamity, or make mischief?

Only constant, selfless goodness can help people without abandoning anyone, and help all things without neglecting anything. Can goodness done with an ulterior purpose achieve this? Only by refusing to accumulate or possess can one gain more the more one helps others, and become more abundant the more one gives. Can giving that clings to its merit achieve this? If the world is helped and living beings guided according to these principles, why distinguish among Confucianism, Buddhism, and Daoism?

Deng Su of Binlü said: “I once investigated the origins of Daoism. Its source lay with the Yellow Emperor, and it flourished in the time of Lao Dan (Laozi). Later, some of its offshoots gradually turned toward the strange, and some were truly alarming. Daoism was divided into thirty-seven schools, with a total of nine hundred and ninety-three works. Rulers who held the empire often honored Daoism. Three emperors deserve particular mention: Qin Shi Huang, Emperor Wu of Han, and Emperor Xuanzong of Tang.

“These three emperors were exceptionally intelligent and held themselves in high regard. They felt that even the vastness of Heaven and Earth could not satisfy their desires, and so they conceived the idea of riding the wind and Qi to ascend and become immortals. They refined elixirs, made talismans and registers, and mixed in all manner of heterodox arts, believing these techniques could rival Heaven and Earth. They did not understand that the art of ascending could never fulfill their wishes, but instead brought calamity upon the state. This is truly regrettable.

“Yet Zhang Liang contributed more than anyone to Han Gaozu’s conquest of the empire, and Cao Can was the most effective in governing it during the early Han. Zhang Liang admired the immortal Chisongzi, while Cao Can, when at home, avoided the main hall and gave his living quarters to Lord Gai, renowned for his learning in Huang-Lao. This shows that Daoist methods once benefited the empire. Han Gaozu employed Zhang Liang and Cao Can by drawing on Daoism’s roots: stillness, humility, frugality, and Wuwei (non-action), allowing the people to recover and prosper. Qin Shi Huang, Emperor Wu of Han, and Emperor Xuanzong of Tang, by contrast, championed the relentless pursuit of Daoism’s lesser arts, giving fanciful and unfounded claims an opportunity to take hold. This is why the differences between times of good government and disorder, and between wise and foolish rulers, are so great; the two cannot be compared.

“Once Daoism’s lesser branches spread, strange events arose one after another, enough to mislead rulers and bring harm to the empire. None of this was the Dao of the Yellow Emperor and Lao Dan.” See Binlü ji.

The Recluse of Yangu, Jiang Guoli, said: “The Dao is profound, distant, hidden, and subtle, and difficult to put into words. People call it ‘the Dao’ only by borrowing a name to point toward it; what they speak of is not the Dao itself. The Five Classics discuss the Dao briefly, while Lao Dan, Lie Yukou, and Zhuang Zhou discuss it in greater detail. Though their accounts differ in length, both aim to explain the foundations of the Dao.

“Someone asked me, ‘Laozi’s book is divided into the Classic of the Dao and the Classic of De. Did Laozi arrange it this way himself, or did later generations organize it?’ I replied, ‘There is no way to know for certain. I once saw a copy of the Laozi, written in ancient script, in a collector’s home. Its text was much the same as the versions passed down today, though there were some minor differences. Its ideas were basically consistent with those of the received text. Only the order of the passages differed from the arrangement we have today, so I too suspect that later people divided it into chapters.’

“Someone said, ‘The Dao encompasses everything, but the five thousand characters of the Laozi record only the Dao that can be spoken of. And then it is divided into De. Surely there is no reason for this.’ I replied, ‘The Dao and De are the same in substance; only their names differ. Why should they not be called the Dao and De?’ The person said, ‘How could that be? I have read the Five Classics and the books of the various schools. Whenever they discuss Dao and De, they distinguish between greater and lesser, earlier and later; they cannot all be treated as one. These distinctions can be clearly examined.’

“I said, ‘Zhuang Zhou says that people with partial understanding divide the beauty of Heaven and Earth and break apart the principles of the myriad things. This comes from treating the Dao and De as different from one another. He deeply lamented the misfortune of later scholars. Do you intend to do the same?’ The person said, ‘Please explain the reasoning.’

“I have heard that what is everywhere and in everything is called the Dao; what each person receives from the Dao is called De. The Dao is the foundation that all share and follow, while De is the part each person receives and brings to expression.

“Water can serve as an analogy. The water held by lakes and seas is of course different from the water gathered in ponds; the water rushing through rivers is also different from that surging through ditches and channels. But as water, how do they differ in essence? Water is like the Dao: it is everywhere. The water as it appears in lakes, seas, ponds, rivers, and channels is like the De each receives. Is it not truly the case that their substance is the same, while their names and forms differ?

“Those who study the Dao turn their minds toward it and apprehend it with their spirit. They nurture and enrich themselves until they reach fulfillment. In this way, De takes shape, and a person is able to establish themselves. As they keep cultivating De, until it accords with the Dao, they return to the same source from which they began. From this we can see that the Dao is not something beyond De: when the Dao spreads out, De becomes manifest. Nor is De something lacking in comparison with the Dao: when De reaches fulfillment, the Dao instead becomes hidden and unseen. Thus, a sage is one who possesses both Dao and De in full, complete and without deficiency; a junzi is one who understands the Great Dao and has perfected their De. This is the difference between them.’

“The person asked, ‘The Dao is subtle and formless, but can De be seen?’ I replied, ‘The Dao has no fixed shape or bounds; De, however, can be fulfilled or deficient. Whatever is fulfilled or deficient is clearly presented in the mind and before the eyes. How could it not be seen? When one is united with the Dao, there is no De that can be spoken of separately. When distinctions are made among the expressions of De, different names can be recognized. That is why it is said that the Dao has no fixed name, while De has definite forms.

“Laozi lived in an age when the arts of the Dao were changing. His teachings were all meant to clarify the most fitting end. Though his formulations differ, they are linked like head and tail. If we examine what they ultimately point to, where is the contradiction between them?

“He also said: ‘The activity that arises from the heart has no limit, and so the life expressed through the body has no end. After death comes life, and after life comes death; the beginning and end of life form a cycle without end.

“‘Laozi says “entering life, entering death,” and also says that three out of ten people follow the path of longevity, three out of ten follow the path of death, and another three out of ten bring themselves to death through reckless action. These three groups account for nine tenths. By this reckoning, only one person in ten can go beyond life and death. What does this “one” refer to? Perhaps it is someone able to return to the source of life. Those who aspire to the Dao may be able to discuss this state if they cultivate themselves and await the right moment, acting in accordance with firmness when firmness is called for and accepting their circumstances when they are bent or constrained.’

“Someone else asked, ‘Lao Dan, Lie Yukou, Zhuang Zhou, and Meng Ke were all ancient masters of the Dao. Each set forth teachings in the hope of winning the trust of later generations. Why do their statements contradict one another? Lao Dan says, “My greatest affliction is that I have a body.” Lie Yukou says that those who look inward can find proof within themselves. Zhuang Zhou says, “My body does not belong to me.” Yet Meng Ke says that everything is complete within me, and that reflecting on oneself and being sincere bring the greatest joy. Some reject the body, regarding it as a source of affliction and saying it does not belong to them; others value themselves, believing that everything is complete within them and that they can be content in themselves. Is this not a contradiction?’

“I replied, ‘You have understood only what they said, not why they said it. The human body can refer to the physical form—the four limbs, the hundred bones, the five viscera, and the six bowels. It can also refer to the faculties of nature and mind: seeing, hearing, speaking, bearing, and thinking. The word “body” is the same, but what it refers to differs: in one case it is physical form, in the other, one’s nature.

“‘Lao Dan and Zhuang Zhou speak of the body from the perspective of physical form. As physical form, the presence of the four limbs, hundred bones, five viscera, and six bowels brings corresponding afflictions; without these forms, those afflictions would not arise. That is why they say one should not be attached to physical form. But “without” does not mean that the body disappears. It means not clinging to physical form while acting, speaking, or remaining silent.

“‘Lie Yukou and Meng Ke speak of the body from the perspective of one’s nature. Seeing, hearing, speaking, bearing, and thinking are all governed by one unifying principle; the principles of the myriad things are also complete within human nature. By looking inward, one can find fulfillment within oneself. Though Heaven is high and Earth low, by looking up and looking down one can see clearly: what principle is not complete within my heart? What does the body lack? Thus Lao Dan and Zhuang Zhou, when speaking of the body, necessarily emphasize freedom from attachment to physical form; Lie Yukou and Meng Ke, when speaking of it, necessarily emphasize inward reflection.’

“Someone else asked, ‘What is meant by “breath”?’ I replied, ‘It is the ebb and flow that follows the changes of Yin-Yang, waxing and waning as the hours of zi and wu pass. Its movement is like a wheel that never stops; as it turns, it is like a circle without end. It is joined with primordial Qi and continues without pause, day and night. This is the “harmonizing Qi” spoken of by Laozi and Lie Yukou—the primordial Qi that flows in harmony. To understand how to guard the breath is to understand how to nurture Qi; to understand how to nurture Qi is to understand how to enter the Dao; to understand how to enter the Dao is to know that holding to unity and meditative stillness ultimately lead to the same destination. Laozi says, “It continues unbroken, seeming to exist; use it, and it is never exhausted.” Go back and ponder this carefully, and you will come to understand.’

“He also said: ‘Zhuang Zhou speaks of those who nourish their bodies using breath and exhalation to care for the body. This is only a relatively shallow practice. The key to bringing both body and spirit to a wondrous state lies in receiving and drawing near to the source of Qi. Laozi says, “The gate of the Mysterious Female, the hidden source from which Heaven and Earth give birth to the myriad things, is the root of Heaven and Earth.” The way of longevity probably has its source here.

“He also said: ‘Confucius says, “Do not make conjectures; do not be self-centered.” Laozi says, “When I have no body, what affliction could I have?” Gautama, the Buddha, says, “Do not cling to the eyes, ears, nose, tongue, body, or mind.” After birth, a person has outward form and appearance, and inward thoughts and perceptions. Why should all these be brought to “nothingness”? Because nothingness is the destination of every good action and the root of every path. If a person can let go of outward concerns and return the mind to emptiness and stillness, they can unite with the Dao. These all lead in the end to the same state. Are sitting in oblivion, regulating the breath, and practicing meditation facing a wall truly different paths?’

“Mao, whose courtesy name was Zhongchang, was from Sanqu. ‘The Recluse of Yangu’ was his self-chosen name. He cultivated himself in the countryside and taught students through the Confucian classics. During the Shaoxing era, a senior minister recommended him to the court. After being summoned and presenting his responses, he firmly declined office and returned home. Scholars held him in great respect. His life is also recorded in the Yangu Collection.”

Yang Zhuang, Duke Wen’an of the Yang family, served as an attendant official during the Shaoxing era and lectured at the imperial court’s Classics lectures. He once wrote a set of lectures titled “Notes on Reading the Laozi to the Emperor.” In it, he explained the Laozi’s words: “I have three precious 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 everyone.” These lectures are included in the Yunshi Collection; related material also appears in the Yangu Collection.

Yang Zhuang held that seeking the Dao through cleverness and intellectual ability alone often exhausts the mind and spirit, making the truth harder to understand. If one lets go of contrivance and calculation and instead reflects on ordinary life, the principle may become clear and fitting. Relying too much on cleverness in everything can waste one’s spirit on trivial, superficial matters. It also makes it difficult to meet external things without inner entanglement. Thus, trying to be compassionate may turn into indiscriminate indulgence; trying to be frugal may become stinginess; and trying not to put oneself first may become timidity. The more one strains, the harder it is to understand the Dao.

Those who have the Dao are different. Their wisdom is wholly natural. When things come before them, they hold no preconceived ideas, but respond appropriately to the circumstances. They have no impulse to envy or harm, and so they can be compassionate; they have no desire to accumulate, and so they can be frugal; they have no wish to triumph over others, and so they do not put themselves ahead of anyone. These everyday actions are simple and fitting. They cannot be achieved through cleverness alone; only the most fully realized sages can do so.

The Book of Changes says in the Qian hexagram that only one who cherishes benevolence can become a leader of the people. In the Kun hexagram, it says that the way of Kun is inherently yielding, yet its action is strong and steadfast. This shows that one who is truly benevolent can also be courageous, just as “compassion makes one able to be brave.” The Jie hexagram says that when proper rules of restraint are established, resources are not wasted and the people are not harmed. This shows that frugality can make resources abundant, just as “frugality makes one able to be generous.” The Qian hexagram says that one who holds a high position yet remains humble makes their virtue shine more brightly; one who occupies a low position is not easily surpassed. This accords with the many benefits of humility: one who does not strive to be first can, in the end, become a leader of the people.

The Book of Changes and Laozi’s teachings agree closely. Emperors achieved imperial rule because they were able to act in this way. Cherishing benevolence and protecting life, while using authority to bring killing to an end, expresses compassion. Living in a thatched hut, building an earthen terrace, and dressing simply express frugality. Not boasting, claiming no credit, and avoiding rivalry and forcefulness express not putting oneself first.

From the Han dynasty onward, Emperor Gaozu of Han was magnanimous and generous, and thus close to compassion; Emperor Wen of Han transformed the people through virtue, and thus close to frugality; Emperor Guangwu governed the realm through gentleness, and thus close to not putting oneself first. A ruler capable of governing the realm can be resolute when they cherish compassion, make state resources abundant when they cherish frugality, and become a leader of the people when they willingly take a place behind others. If they can do these things, they may be ranked alongside the ancient sage kings Yao, Shun, Yu, Tang, Kings Wen and Wu, and the others. The achievements of Han rulers are not the highest standard.

Yang Zhuang also said that the Daoist school has a long history. Tradition holds that the Yellow Emperor established its way, that Lao Dan inherited it in the Zhou dynasty, and that Lie Yukou, Zhuang Zhou, and others developed it during the Warring States period. In the Qin and Han periods, people called it the “teachings of Huangdi and Laozi,” taking emptiness and naturalness as its foundation and quietude and detachment as the way of cultivation. Its essential teachings could be applied to self-cultivation and extended to governing the state. From the medieval period onward, Daoist teachings existed alongside the ways of Yao, Shun, the Duke of Zhou, and Confucius, without conflicting with them. Buddhism was different: it originally came from the West and only reached China in the Han dynasty. According to tradition, when Huo Qubing campaigned against the Xiongnu, he captured a golden figure used by the King of Xiutu in sacrifices to Heaven. Yan Shigu believed that the figure was an image of the Buddha. Emperor Ming of Han dreamed of a golden figure flying through the air, and Fu Yi identified it as a sage from the West. The emperor then sent envoys to India to seek it out, and Buddhism began to spread in China from that time.

Tracing their origins, Daoism and Buddhism have different roots and distinct paths of cultivation. Why not read the five thousand words of the Daodejing and compare them? Its language is subtle and its meaning far-reaching; its words are concise yet precise, and its principles are broad yet ordered. They are inwardly connected with the teachings of the Six Classics, not incompatible like ice and charcoal or a tenon and its mortise. It is astonishing that later scholars lumped them together under the name “Buddhism and Laozi.”

When Emperor Guangzong (Song Xiaozong) was still living in the princely residence, before ascending the throne, Cheng Wenjian Gong Dachang served as an official in his household. Guangzong once asked him for his work, General Remarks on the Changes and Laozi, and Cheng Dachang presented him with the manuscript. Its main argument was as follows:

What makes Laozi worthy of attention? He grasped the essential principles and was able to use the Dao to govern the myriad things. That was his strength. He exalted “nothingness” and regarded “being” lightly, and spoke little about worldly affairs of government. This does not mean that he was incapable of handling them.

The person who modeled himself on Laozi and achieved success was Emperor Wen of Han. In governing the country, Emperor Wen was generally calm, restrained in his desires, quiet, and unadorned, and through this he nurtured the realm. This does not mean that he did nothing. The Han dynasty achieved great order and secured its legacy for a long time precisely because Emperor Wen grasped the essentials of governing and put Laozi’s strengths to use.

By the Western Jin, people had heard Laozi’s teachings and often treated Wuwei (non-action) as the foundation of government, without understanding how it should actually be practiced. They thought that loosening the laws and simply sitting with folded arms would be enough to govern the realm in peace. Before long, the political order collapsed, and the realm fell into chaos. Wang Tong remarked, “When the fashion for clarity and emptiness prevailed, the Jin court descended into disorder. This was not Laozi’s fault.” The people of the Western Jin had failed to grasp the essentials of governing and did not understand how to use Laozi’s strengths.

My earnest wish is that Your Highness will adopt Laozi’s teaching on grasping the essentials and take the Western Han as a model, while treating the Western Jin’s empty talk about governing and refusal to act as a warning. In this way, Laozi’s profound and subtle teachings and principles can all be put to use in Your Highness’s practice of government.

Cheng Dachang also wrote Record of the Flourishing Virtues of the Heir Apparent’s Residence. One passage reads: “I once had the opportunity to attend discussions. Whenever the Great Dao came up, I would often cite the Appended Statements of the Classic of Changes on Dao and implements, and the words of Confucius, ‘Study what is near at hand, and thereby reach what is higher,’ to explain the matter by comparison.

“Dao and implements, studying what is near and reaching what is higher, can be used as images for the upper and lower levels. It is like lighting a fire: wood can produce flame. The Dao above depends on the implements below. One can reach what is higher only by learning from what is below. Though wood is coarse and solid, it can transform its essence into flame, which rises upward.

“The Six Classics, along with the Analects and the Mencius, speak mostly of concrete matters and less often address the Dao directly. They are like a store of firewood gathered to produce a flame. The writings of Laozi and Zhuangzi speak more of ‘nothingness’ than of ‘being,’ as if they were saying that the Six Classics have already said enough about the firewood and need not repeat it. In seeking the Dao, Confucians already have the Six Classics to rely on, so it might seem they have no need of Laozi and Zhuangzi. Yet their writings use subtle language and reach profound meanings, helping to reveal the mysteries of the Great Dao with particular precision. To draw widely on them is sure to be of great benefit. But one must not follow the people of the Western Jin, who engaged in empty talk of nothingness and thought that if rites and music, punishments, and government orders were abandoned, the realm would govern itself. How could a flame arise on its own without firewood?

“Another point: Today, Daoist priests who practice the teachings of Laozi have abandoned his principle of not dwelling on concrete matters and taking the Dao as fundamental. Instead, they speak of medicines, prayers to avert calamities, and such things. To teach people this way is already to depart from Laozi’s original intent, and to stray even further from it. Only the Tang poet Bai Juyi put the matter precisely: ‘What is more, the Primordial Emperor’s five thousand words on the Dao and De speak neither of medicines nor immortals, nor of ascending bodily into the blue sky.’ The Primordial Emperor is Laozi.

“Daoists revere Laozi as the founder of their teaching. Yet the eighty-one chapters of the Classic of the Dao and De speak of nothing beyond quietude and few desires; they say nothing about these other matters. How can anyone falsely claim that it teaches about medicines, immortals, or the magical arts of prayer, averting calamity, and banishing harmful influences? I was honored to have the emperor approve of what I said. His Majesty personally recited these lines by Bai Juyi in full and greatly admired how Bai Juyi had grasped the essentials in speaking about Laozi. The relevant discussion also appears in my collected works.

“Some people revere Laozi, believing his teaching to be superior to the Five Classics; others doubt him and mock his teaching as empty and useless. Neither group understands Laozi. His elevated insight certainly has substance: he understood the depths of the Great Dao, spoke of Dao through ‘nothingness,’ and made its subtleties clear. He applied the Dao to concrete things, dwelling amid what exists without being confined by it. The Six Classics focus on recording concrete events and do not have time to explore every principle in depth; this book has already explained those principles fully. Thus, what the Analects and the Mencius strive to clarify is explained here in greater detail. The Classic of the Dao and De can therefore stand alongside the Six Classics.” This passage appears in General Remarks on the Changes and Laozi.

Shen Zhuangzhong asked Zhu Wengong (Zhu Xi, whose posthumous title was Wen), “How should we understand ‘always having desire in order to observe its subtlety’?” Zhu Wengong replied, “The word ‘subtlety’ is pronounced close to a word meaning ‘border.’ It refers to the place where things meet and interact. People in the past read ‘always without’ and ‘always with’ as separate phrases. It is better to read them as ‘always without desire’ and ‘always with desire.’” He then asked, “How should we explain ‘The Dao that can be spoken’?” Zhu Wengong answered, “If the Dao can be explained in words, it is not the eternal, unchanging Dao; if a name can be fixed in words, it is not an eternal, unchanging name.” Asked what “mysterious” meant, Zhu Wengong said, “‘Mysterious’ means probing into what is distant and hidden, until one reaches what is so dark it cannot be clearly understood. That is where the myriad wonders of all things reside.”

Zhang Yidao asked what “Carrying the ethereal soul and embracing the One, can you keep them from separating?” meant. Zhu Wengong replied, “The corporeal soul belongs to Yin and is the One; the ethereal soul belongs to Yang and is the Two. The One corresponds to Water, and the Two to Fire. For the Two to embrace the One means that Fire guards Water; the ethereal soul carries the corporeal soul, and movement guards stillness.” Here, Yin-Yang and Water-Fire are used to explain the cultivation idea of uniting the souls and keeping movement and stillness in balance.

Zhu Wengong said, “The more one accumulates and stores, the greater the loss that must follow. Laozi put this very well.”

Chen Zhongheng asked, “The Book of Zhou says, ‘To weaken something, you must first help it; to take something away, you must first give it.’ Why can’t these lines be found in the Book of Zhou we have today?” Zhu Wengong replied, “These lines come from the book called the Laozi. Perhaps a book of this kind once existed in the Zhou dynasty. Laozi served as the Keeper of the Archives, so he had a broad range of knowledge. Confucius’s journey to Zhou to inquire about ritual probably also had something to do with texts of this kind.”

Huang Yigang asked, “Rang of Yuan seems to have been a follower of Laozi’s teaching too.” Master Wen replied, “He was nothing like Laozi. Laozi was not that sort of person.” Zhuang Zhong said, “He seems more like Zhuangzi.” Master Wen replied, “There is certainly some resemblance. But people like him already existed in Confucius’s time.” Zhuang Zhong said, “Although Zhuangzi took Laozi as the founder of his teaching, Laozi’s teaching still advocated entering public life and responding to the world. Zhuangzi did not.” Master Wen said, “Zhuangzi’s ideas are broader and more lofty, but also more diffuse, and they depart from Laozi’s original intent. If Laozi were alive and heard Zhuangzi speak this way, he probably would not have agreed.”

Someone asked, “Cao Can and Emperor Wen of Han adopted Laozi’s approach to governing and achieved results. Why, then, did Wang Dao and Xie An, despite their abilities, fail to accomplish the same?” Master Wen said, “Did Wang Dao and Xie An ever truly grasp the subtlety of Laozi’s teaching?”

Master Wen said, “People like Emperor Wen of Han and Cao Can did indeed demonstrate the effects of applying Laozi’s teaching. But they understood only its surface. In every matter, they simply practiced tolerance and accommodation, and handled things by letting them take their natural course.”

Guo Deyuan asked, “Laozi says that ritual is a sign that loyalty and trust have declined, and the beginning of disorder. Why, then, did Confucius ask him about ritual?” Master Wen said, “Laozi understood the details of ritual and its institutions. At first I suspected there had been two people named Lao Dan, and Hengqu once guessed the same. But now it seems that was not the case. Laozi served as the Keeper of the Archives, an official responsible for records and documents, so he would naturally have been familiar with ritual. That is why he could discuss it so thoroughly with Confucius. Yet Laozi also believed that ritual was something one could do without, as though a sage who put ritual into practice were simply doing more than necessary. The “Liyun” chapter of the Book of Rites says, ‘Scheming arose, and from it came warfare’—that is, when people began using their wits to compete for advantage, war followed. This expresses the same idea.

Master Wen said, “Laozi’s teaching advocates emptiness and restraint, and refuses to squander the spirit…”

Wen Gong said, “Laozi’s teaching values balance and restraint, and does not allow the spirit to be squandered at will. He also said that Laozi’s thought began with quietude and Wuwei (non-action), but already included the idea of living forever. Later, people gradually came to speak only of immortality. By our time, it has turned into practices like those of mediums and ritual specialists, concerned solely with averting calamity and praying for blessings. This change has gone through two transformations.

“He also said that Boyi’s thought was somewhat like Laozi’s. Zhang Liang, whose courtesy name was Zifang, studied Laozi’s teaching deeply. Cao Can grasped its essential points but did not put them to practical use. Among those who came after Mencius, only Zhang Liang and Zhuge Liang, whose courtesy name was Kongming, stood out. Zhang Liang’s learning came from the Huang-Lao tradition, the school of thought associated with the Yellow Emperor and Laozi. Compared with Wang Zhongyan, however, Zhang Liang’s learning was less meticulous. Yang Xiong, whose courtesy name was Ziyun, wrote the Taixuan, and his thought, too, came from Zhuangzi and Laozi; this can be seen in phrases such as ‘only stillness, only silence.’ Wang Tong, known as Wenzhongzi, had ambitions for the whole realm and understood the institutions of the Xia, Shang, and Zhou dynasties. He also had some ability when compared with figures such as Fang Xuanling and Wei Zheng. But if we trace the roots of his arguments, they too come only from Zhuangzi and Laozi.”

Someone asked, “People in the Jin and Song periods often talked about Zhuangzi and Laozi, but perhaps they did not truly understand their thought.” Wen Gong replied, “Those people merely borrowed the language of Zhuangzi and Laozi to disguise their own destruction of ritual and law. Given how polluted and disorderly their minds were, how could they have understood the true meaning of Zhuangzi and Laozi?”

Wengong (Zhu Xi, whose posthumous title was Wen) said, “Kangjie (Shao Yong’s courtesy name) once said that Laozi grasped the fundamental substance of the Changes, while Mencius grasped its practical application. This is not right. Laozi had his own substance and application, and Mencius had his own. ‘If you want to take something away, you must first temporarily give it’—this is Laozi’s substance and application. ‘Hold fast to the original mind, cultivate one’s nature, and extend the four sprouts of benevolence, righteousness, propriety, and wisdom’—this is Mencius’s substance and application.

“Kangjie’s learning was somewhat like Laozi’s. He simply sought a spacious, carefree refuge for himself, where no one could harm him. Zhang Zifang (Zhang Liang) was the same: while everyone else was caught up in confusion and turmoil, he remained calmly at the side.

“Wan Renjie asked whether the expressions ‘viewing the Dao by means of the Dao’ and the like in the preface to the Jijang Collection were really problematic. Wengong replied, ‘It will not do to say they are without problems, nor will it do to say they are problematic. He had his own way of understanding them. Expressions such as “viewing the world by means of the world” come from Laozi.’

“Chen Qizhi asked: ‘Mencius’s “morning Qi”—the clear, calm Qi of the mind at dawn—is very slight. How can it be fully nurtured?’ Wengong said, ‘People fail to preserve the mind’s Qi, nurtured during the night, because the things they do during the day damage it. That is why it is said that people’s likes and dislikes are much the same, with only slight differences.’ Wengong then cited Laozi: ‘In governing the people and serving Heaven, nothing is better than frugality and restraint. Only by knowing restraint can one return early to one’s original nature. To return early to one’s original nature is to accumulate De (Virtue/Power) continuously; when De has been accumulated deeply, there is nothing one cannot overcome.’ The general idea is close to Mencius’s teaching, but Laozi focuses on nurturing the spirit, and the idea itself is good. ‘Morning Qi’ can also be understood as the result of effort during the day. In daily life, one need only keep the mind settled in this state throughout.

“Li Jingzi asked, ‘Is there really such a thing as becoming an immortal?’ Wengong replied, ‘Who says there isn’t? There is indeed such a principle. But the practice is extremely difficult. Unless you set aside all other affairs and devote yourself entirely to accomplishing it, you cannot succeed.’”

Li Jingzi asked, “Is there really such a thing as becoming an immortal?” Zhu Xi replied, “Who says it does not exist? There is certainly a basis for it; it is simply that the practice is extremely difficult. It may be possible only if one sets aside all other affairs and devotes oneself wholeheartedly to that practice.”

Cai Jitong said, “Daoists have books like those of Zhuangzi and Laozi right before them, yet they do not understand that they should study them.” Zhu Xi replied, “The Confucian scholars of today read many books, but cannot even make sense of their own principles. How could they find the time to study Zhuangzi and Laozi?”

Cai Jitong said, “The Liezi is good too.” Zhu Xi replied, “The Liezi is certainly good, but its arguments seem weak beside the Zhuangzi. What about Laozi?” Zhu Xi said, “Laozi’s words are more profound and substantial.”

Zhu Xi added, “At first, Buddhists simply borrowed the words of Laozi and Zhuangzi to explain Buddhist teachings. For example, in the writings of Master Yuan (the eminent Eastern Jin monk Huiyuan), and of Sengzhao (an Eastern Jin monk and Buddhist thinker)…”