《古文参同契集解》Vol. 6

I have heard that those whose aspirations align need no lengthy discourse to trust one another, whereas those on different paths will doubt even sincere counsel. On matters as close at hand as everyday choice between gain and loss—where the weight of gold against a feather or the contrast of ink against chalk powder could not be clearer—those who are deluded still often fail to distinguish them. How much less can one explain affairs beyond the mundane or principles of utmost subtlety? Laughter at such talk has a long history; it is not peculiar to our day. What lies within sight, even the finest hair in deepest night, is not hard to see; but once capacity is exceeded, even the sun and moon blazing overhead or Mount Song and Mount Tai towering into the clouds remain invisible.

Profound knowers such as the Yellow Emperor and Laozi opened secret texts on famous mountains, received immortal scriptures from divine beings, shed worldly entanglements, and ascended to distant realms. Neither metal nor stone matched their firmness; neither tortoise nor crane matched their longevity. Pitying later aspirants and fearing that followers would lack written guidance, they left methods clearly set down: small cultivation yields small gains; great practice brings great verification.

Those of shallow insight cling to one corner, content to eat bitter greens while ignorant of honey, drunk on thin wine while unable to savor fine vintage. They know to cherish life yet do not know there is a Way of nurturing life; they know to fear death yet do not believe there is a method of not dying; they know that excess in eating and drinking brings quick illness yet will not restrain the mouth from rich flavors; they know that indulging desires wears one down yet will not renounce what they crave. Even if I say that immortals can be attained, how could I make them believe?

Some object: You have no extraordinary bone structure in your body, your years do not resemble those of An Qisheng or Peng Zu who lived exceedingly long, your eyes have never seen an immortal, your ears have never heard strange tidings—on what basis do you know that long life can be attained and that nurturing nature has a foundation? If you say you have privately grasped wondrous principle in your heart, I still dare not accept that. One whose clothes cannot cover the body and who lacks an evening meal yet discourses loftily on Tao Zhugong’s arts of wealth or boasts of mastering Yi Dun’s methods of finance will inevitably be mocked. Others do not believe because there is no verification.

I reply: A finger-length minnow floating in shallow water thinks there is nothing as vast as the four seas; a tiny worm curled inside a fruit pit thinks the boundary of heaven and earth ends there. Tell them of boundless expanse and cosmic breadth and they take it as empty talk and refuse to believe. Suppose my eyes had square pupils and ears grew from the crown of my head, that I rode a flying dragon and mounted auspicious clouds, swifter than lightning, to where the sun’s shadow falls vertically—how could you still question me? Even if you saw me, you would call me a spirit of heaven or earth, a being of another order; you would not think this came from study and cultivation. I merely use the role of one who awakens earlier to guide those of the same path; I am not forcing all of you to believe.

If every household had immortals, face to face, visible day after day, you would not doubt even if closed-minded. But once the Way is complete, they tread the azure heavens and approach the Purple Pole (the highest reach of heaven); unless one has spiritual communion, one neither sees nor hears them. You will surely say again that no such people exist in the world. Ordinary people trust their own surmises, cling to short and shallow views, and think their judgment never errs; accustomed only to what they can reach, they marvel at what they cannot obtain. Even if one speaks at their ear and points at their palm, they still do not understand. This has long been so; it is not only today.

Others say: Having heard these lofty discussions often enough, I am already inclined not to doubt that immortals exist—only I myself am unwilling or unable to do what is required. Are there still essential methods one can cultivate alone?

Baopuzi said: In learning the Way, one should always proceed from shallow to deep, from easy to hard. Where aspiration is sincere and resolve firm, nothing fails; where doubt arises, nothing succeeds. This is no small matter. Roots that do not go deep into earth cannot make branches rise into clouds; a source that is not deep cannot make water rush a thousand leagues—never has such a thing happened. Without accumulating good deeds and hidden virtue, one cannot move the spirits; without sincere accord, one cannot win a teacher; without merit, one cannot undertake great trials. To seek essential doctrine without meeting an enlightened teacher is also impossible. The nine elixirs and golden fluid (supreme methods of immortality through elixir and liquid gold) chiefly lead to becoming an immortal, but the affair is weighty and the cost extreme; it cannot be rushed. Cherishing essence and loving Qi (vital energy)—guarding Jing (essence) and Qi from wasteful loss—is most urgent; at the same time one must take minor medicinals to extend life and learn handy methods to ward off evil, and only then gradually enter the subtle.

Someone asked: Methods are numerous and truly hard to master in every detail. Apart from the golden elixir, which of the rest is worth cultivating?

Baopuzi said: If one has not yet obtained that supreme great method, lesser arts cannot be neglected. Long life is achieved through many methods working together. On a large scale, it is like a ruler governing a state—literary, military, ritual, and legal arts are all indispensable; on a small scale, it is like a craftsman building a cart—spokes, yoke, axle, and linchpin cannot be missing. So-called methods inwardly nurture body and spirit to extend years and remove illness; outwardly they repel evil so that harm cannot invade. This is like a zither or lute not producing the five tones from a single string, or armor not stopping a blade with one scale. The five tones must be used in combination and none omitted; where the edge concentrates its cut, no plate can be spared. Those who nurture life should listen widely and grasp essentials, see much and choose well. Devoting oneself to one thing alone is necessarily insufficient; one must rely on many methods.

One also fears that those who love life each rely on their own specialty: those who know Xuansu arts (bedroom techniques of one class) say only through the bedroom can one transcend the world; those who know exhalation and inhalation say only through circulating Qi can one extend years; those who know flexing-and-extending formulas say only through daoyin (guiding and pulling) can one resist aging; those who know herbal formulas say only through medicaments and food can one live without end. Failure in learning the Way often comes from such one-sidedness. Shallow people who happen to know one thing say it is enough. Those who do not recognize true principle, even when they obtain good formulas, endlessly seek elsewhere, waste effort and idle time, with no fixed aim in mind. Both extremes miss the mark.

Some are dull by nature and their knowledge shallow and near, yet they force themselves into famous mountains, tread on poisonous creatures, are hurt again and again, and are ashamed to turn back; some are eaten by tigers and wolves, some harmed by evil sprites; hungry without methods of bigu (grain avoidance), cold without means to warm themselves—they die in cliffs and valleys. Is that not folly? In striving to learn the Way, it is better first to choose a teacher. If the teacher’s own usual hearing is narrow and he does not teach fully, yet says “the Way does not lie in multiplicity”—if one already holds the golden elixir and other essentials, the rest may indeed be set aside; but those who know this are extremely few. Can one empty wait for that great matter not yet known and not cultivate lesser arts of proven benefit? It is like managing a household: to say one need use nothing else means gold, silver, pearls, and jade are already in hand and enough for generations. If one has none of these, how can one not widely plant the hundred grains and store many fruits and vegetables? Therefore bigu, warding off weapons, suppressing and expelling ghostly beings, controlling the hundred poisons, curing many illnesses, entering mountains so wild beasts do not attack, crossing water so dragons do not harm, facing plague without fear, and in sudden peril becoming invisible—these are small matters, yet one cannot be ignorant of them; how much less can one ignore what is more essential than these?

Someone asked: In wishing to cultivate the Way of long life, what taboos are there?

Baopuzi said: The most urgent taboos are simply not harming and not damaging. According to the Yineijie, the Chisongzi Jing, and the Hetu Jiming Fu, heaven and earth have spirits who oversee faults and, according to the gravity of offenses, reduce one’s “allotted spans” (suan). When spans are reduced, one becomes poor and depleted, ill, and repeatedly meets misfortune; when spans are exhausted, one dies. There are hundreds of matters that warrant reduction of spans; they cannot all be listed. It is also said that within the body are the Three Corpses (sanshi). Though formless, these are a kind of soul and ghostly being; they wish one to die early so they themselves can become ghosts, roam freely, and enjoy human offerings. Therefore on every gengshen day the Three Corpses ascend to heaven and report one’s faults to the Director of Fates. On the last night of each month the Kitchen God also ascends to report one’s crimes. For great faults “epochs” (ji) are taken—one epoch is three hundred days; for small faults “spans” are taken—one span is three days (some say one day). I cannot be certain whether this is literally so. Yet the Way of heaven is remote and ghosts and spirits are hard to fathom. Zhao Jianzi and Duke Mu of Qin both personally received the God’s mandate with clear proof of enfeoffment. Mountains, rivers, plants, trees, wells, stoves, and foul pools all have vital breath; heaven and earth, greatest among the ten thousand things, should by reason have spirit. Where there is spirit, good should be rewarded and evil punished—only the body is so vast and responses so sparse that they need not answer like a triggered mechanism.

Yet in surveying various Daoist precepts, all say: To seek long life one must accumulate good and establish merit, have a compassionate heart toward the ten thousand things, extend oneself to others, extend benevolence even to insects; rejoice in others’ good fortune, pity others’ suffering, relieve others’ urgency, rescue others’ distress; let the hand not harm life, let the mouth not urge others into disaster; see others gain as if oneself gained, see others lose as if oneself lost; neither exalt oneself nor praise oneself, neither envy those who surpass one nor flatter or secretly harm others. Only then is one virtuous, receives blessing from heaven, succeeds in what one undertakes, and has hope in seeking immortality.

If one hates the good and loves killing, is duplicitous, inconsistent in word, opposes the upright, mistreats subordinates, deceives superiors, betrays those one serves, feels no gratitude for kindness received; plays with laws, accepts bribes, twists right and wrong, wastes public for private ends, punishes the innocent, breaks up families, seizes others’ treasures, harms bodies, occupies others’ posts, insults the worthy, executes those who have submitted, slanders sages and worthies, harms Daoist priests; shoots flying birds, disembowels pregnant animals, breaks eggs, burns fields in spring and summer for hunting; reviles spirits, teaches others to do evil, covers others’ good deeds, harms others for one’s own safety, belittles others to show one’s own merit, ruins others’ good works, takes what others love, separates kin, insults others to win for oneself; borrows long and repays short, releases flood or fire, harms others by occult arts, coerces the sick and weak, swaps bad for good, takes by force, plunders and injures, is unfair and unjust; is dissolute and perverse, bullies orphans and widows, picks up others’ losses and keeps others’ alms, deceives and swindles, delights in others’ secrets and seizes on others’ faults, swears to heaven to make oneself appear in the right; borrows and does not return, lends and does not repay, desire knows no limit, hates and rejects loyalty and trust, disobeys superiors, is disrespectful to teachers; mocks others’ good deeds, destroys others’ crops and tools, drives others to poverty; gives unclean things as food and drink, uses light scales and short measures, narrow cloth and short rulers, passes false for true for illicit gain, entices others to take things; steps over wells, crosses stoves, sings on the last day of the month, wails on the first—each such act is one offense. According to the weight of the matter, the Director of Fates reduces spans or epochs; when spans are exhausted, one dies. Those with evil intent but no evil act lose spans; evil acts that have already harmed others lose epochs. If spans and epochs are not yet exhausted but one dies first, calamity extends to descendants.

Various acts of seizing others’ property by force may be reckoned against one’s wife and household to make restitution, even unto death, though not at once. If the evil is not enough to kill one’s family, in time one will meet fire, flood, bandits, lost goods, or official trouble and illness; what one spends seeking doctors, buying medicine, and offering sacrifices will eventually suffice to offset what was seized. The Daoists hold that killing others unjustly is like mutual slaughter with weapons. Taking ill-gotten wealth without regard for others’ resentment is like using spoiled cured meat to stave hunger or poison wine to quench thirst—not that one cannot briefly be filled, but death follows.

If one has done various evils and later repents: if one has killed unjustly, one should find ways to save those who should have died to resolve it; if one has taken others’ property wrongly, one should give to the poor to resolve it. (The original text here has a large lacuna.)

Someone said: The Way is not yet fully cultivated, and one cannot yet hide on famous mountains; the present age is unlike antiquity and bandits are many. What will remove daily peril and guard against sudden disaster?

Baopuzi said: Regularly on the execution day take earth from the six gui directions, mix with hundred-leaf sweetgrass, and smear a square foot on doors and gates—bandits will not come. One may also take earth from the south gate of the market, plus year-break earth and month-establishment earth, mix and form a human shape, and place it in the position of the Vermilion Bird (south)—this too can suppress bandits. In sudden peril, enter the “place of life” and halt—then there is no harm. Under heaven there are places of life; within a province, a commandery, a county, a township, a li, a dwelling, and a room there are also places of life.

Someone said: If even one room has a place of life, is that not too cramped?

Baopuzi said: The classics say that in utmost crisis one may hide in a space as small as a chariot linchpin. Thus in one cart there is both place of life and place of death—how much more in one room?

Someone said: I have heard that seeking the Way of life one must know the Two Mountains; I do not know where these mountains are and hope to be told to resolve doubt.

Baopuzi said: There are such mountains. They are not Mount Hua or Mount Huo, nor Mount Song or Mount Tai. The Mountain of Great Origin is hard to know but easy to seek; it is not in heaven, not on earth, neither sinks nor floats, perilously remote, lofty and rugged. Harmonious Qi pervades it; divine intent roams with it. Jade wells are deep and irrigate without cease. One hundred and twenty palaces and offices connect; Li and Kan are arrayed in place; ten thousand stalks of spirit fungus, crimson trees growing alone—treasures there differ from the ordinary. Gold and jade tower high; sweet springs flow from corners. Those who extend life draw its clear current. If you can cultivate this, you may be of the same kind as Chisongzi and Prince Qiao. This is the first mountain. The Mountain of Long Valley is remote and lofty, spiritual breath drifting, jade dew falling, golden pools and purple chambers in its bends. The foolish and arrogant who reach it die on the return; those of the Way who ascend do not age, gather and take yellow essence and thereby fly up to heaven. This is the second mountain. Both were hidden by ancient worthies; you must reflect deeply. (These Two Mountains are cryptic language in ancient immortal books, referring to places cultivatable within the body—not ordinary geographical mountains.)

Someone said: I wish to hear methods of immortals for guarding the body and refining form.

Baopuzi said: This question is very deep. Below Beginning Azure, moon and sun—the two halves rise together and merge into one; they emerge from the jade pool and enter the golden chamber; large as a pellet, yellow as an orange, within is fine flavor, sweet as honey. If you can obtain it, do not lose it; once past, it cannot be recovered, and the body will perish. Pure white breath is extremely fine, rises to the hidden pass, winds three times; the central elixir shines—nothing compares; established at the gate of life, the form does not die young. This principle is deep and wondrous, hard to pursue to the end. It is the teacher’s oral formula; those who know need not fear the myriad ghosts and the five weapons.

Someone asked: In bedroom affairs, can those who exhaust the Way rely on this alone to become immortals, transfer calamity, remove guilt, turn misfortune to blessing, rise in office, or double profit in trade? Is this credible?

Baopuzi said: These are witch-books’ extravagant falsehoods, words exceeding fact, added to by busybodies until truth is lost; some are also forged by schemers to deceive the world, hide the thread to gain support, gather disciples for worldly gain. Yin-Yang arts (bedroom techniques—methods of harmonizing male and female to nurture vital breath) at best treat minor illness, next avoid wasteful depletion only. Their principle has its limit; how could they make one an immortal or remove calamity and bring blessing? One cannot entirely abstain from Yin-Yang union or one will fall ill from that; if one indulges desire and cannot regulate and guide, life is shortened. Those skilled in this art can stop “running horse” to supplement the brain, return the yin elixir to the cinnabar intestine, gather jade fluid from the golden pool, draw three-five from the flowery beam, so that in old age complexion remains fair and one enjoys the full years allotted by heaven. Ordinary people hear that the Yellow Emperor ascended heaven with twelve hundred women and think the Emperor achieved long life by this alone, not knowing that below Mount Jing and above Lake Ding he refined the nine elixirs and only then rode the dragon to heaven. The Yellow Emperor could have twelve hundred women, but that was not the path to success through the bedroom alone. Those who take a thousand medicinals and enjoy the three sacrificial beasts’ offerings, if they do not know bedroom arts, gain no benefit. So the ancients, fearing that people would lightly indulge passion, spoke in glowing terms—yet that is not entirely to be believed. Xuansu books compare water and fire: water and fire can kill and can nourish; the key is knowing how to use them or not. The main point is: the more women controlled the better; if one does not know the method and acts, one or two are enough to bring early death. Peng Zu’s method is most essential. Other scriptures are mostly troublesome and hard to practice, and the benefit may not match what the books say—few can do them. Oral formulas also run to thousands of words. Those who do not know this, even if they ingest a hundred medicinals, still cannot obtain long life.

This is the first fascicle of the inner chapters of Baopuzi. Baopuzi (“embracing the unadorned”) is the work of Ge Hong of the Eastern Jin; it is divided into inner and outer chapters, with the inner chapters devoted to immortals and Golden Elixir cultivation. Here the fascicle number is indicated.