《文子缵义》Vol. 2

Those who are bold enough to act recklessly and force their way through invite death upon themselves. Those who are bold enough to restrain themselves and refrain from rash action can instead preserve their lives.

Wenzi asked what it means to possess De. Laozi said, “Nurture the myriad things, letting them grow and flourish in accordance with their nature, without causing them harm. People will then gladly draw near to you, and everyone will want to cherish and assist you. Such a person can become the people’s ruler even without a fief, and their leader even without an official post. All under Heaven will wish for him to find peace and benefit. Therefore, acting recklessly and forcing one’s way through invites death, while the courage to restrain oneself and refrain from rash action preserves life.”

What is called benevolence? Laozi said, “When in a high position, do not boast of your achievements; when in a low position, do not be ashamed of your hardship. Do not boast when faced with great affairs, and do not act carelessly in small ones. Care widely for the people without favoritism, and persevere over time without flagging. This is called benevolence.”

What is called righteousness? Laozi said, “When in a high position, support the weak; when in a low position, hold fast to your integrity. When things go well, do not indulge yourself; when in hardship, do not alter your principles. Always follow standards and reason, and do not distort or unsettle the right way for the sake of private interests. This is called righteousness.”

What is called propriety? Laozi said, “When in a high position, be dignified and scrupulous; when in a low position, be humble and respectful. Know how to yield, hold to gentleness, and willingly place yourself beneath everyone under Heaven. Establish yourself where you would not dare to act recklessly, and do not claim to be unable to do what can be done. This is called propriety.”

Thus, when De is cultivated, those below will obey commands; when benevolence is cultivated, they will not contend; when righteousness is cultivated, they will be fair and even-tempered; when propriety is cultivated, they will respect those above them. When De, benevolence, righteousness, and propriety have all been cultivated, the state can be at peace.

The myriad things are able to grow because of the Dao (the Way); enabling them to grow is De (Virtue/Power); caring for them is benevolence; bringing things into their proper order is righteousness; treating the myriad things with reverence is propriety. Without nurturing the myriad things, one cannot help them flourish in accordance with their nature; without compassion, one cannot help them grow to completion; without setting things right and correcting them, one cannot help them develop over time; without respect and care, one cannot make them precious.

De is what the people value; benevolence is what they remember and cherish; righteousness is what they hold in awe; propriety is what they respect. These four form the principles for governing all under Heaven and the foundations on which the sage orders the myriad things. If a gentleman lacks De, those below will resent him; if he lacks benevolence, they will contend; if he lacks righteousness, they will become violent; if he lacks propriety, they will fall into disorder. When these four fundamental principles—De, benevolence, righteousness, and propriety—cannot be established, this is called being without the Dao. There has never been a case of one being without the Dao and not perishing.

Laozi said, “In the age when De (Virtue) was at its fullest, merchants could trade with ease in the markets, farmers took pleasure in working their fields, officials carried out their duties with peace of mind, hermits devoted themselves to cultivating the Dao (the Way), and ordinary people were content with their own livelihoods. As a result, wind and rain did not ruin the crops, plants and trees did not wither without cause, and the Yellow River produced the River Chart while the Luo River produced the Luo Writing—auspicious signs in ancient legend. When the age fell into decline, taxes were levied without restraint, killing continued without end, those who offered remonstrance were put to death, and worthy people were pushed aside. Mountains then collapsed and rivers dried up; insects could find no peace, and even a variety of vegetables would not grow in the fields.

“Thus, when the world is at peace, the foolish cannot disrupt it on their own; when the world is in chaos, the wise cannot bring it to order by themselves. The sage lives in calm and peace, with De complete, and follows the Great Dao. This is the Mandate of Heaven. A person can put their abilities to use only when they are born into a fitting time; they can display their wisdom only when the right opportunity comes. A suitable age must come first; only then will people of corresponding talent appear.”

Wenzi asked what it meant to be sage and wise. Laozi replied, “To know of something before it has happened is to be sage; to understand something upon seeing its first signs is to be wise. Thus, the sage often discerns the roots from which good fortune and misfortune arise and chooses a fitting path. The wise often perceive the patterns through which good fortune and misfortune emerge and choose an appropriate course of action. The sage understands the auspicious and inauspicious workings of Heaven’s Way, and so knows where good fortune and misfortune begin. The wise can foresee their signs, and so know the paths through which they come. To hear of something before it happens is sagacity; to see its shape emerge in advance is wisdom. To hear nothing and see nothing is foolishness and delusion.”

Laozi said, “If a ruler is intent only on showing kindness, he will act on passing preferences, abandon established institutions, and hand out small favors. Faced with a multitude of things, his wisdom is limited. There has never been any way to use limited wisdom to manage everything. Decisions based only on personal cleverness are bound to lead to many mistakes. A fondness for schemes exhausts the mind and leaves one unable to cope; a fondness for displaying courage leads toward danger and ruin; a fondness for giving freely leaves rewards without any settled standard. When the ruler’s rewards have no settled standard, those below act according to their own wishes, and their desires have no end. Excessive accumulation of wealth breeds resentment among the people, while taking little and giving much also lacks a fixed rule. Thus, handing out favors at will can bring resentment instead. It is clear, then, that material wealth cannot serve as the basis of governance; the way to govern a state must follow established laws and standards.”

Wenzi asked, “How, in practice, did the ancient kings govern the world through the Dao?”

Laozi replied, “Hold fast to the root and practice Wuwei (non-action); accord with Heaven and Earth and change together with the myriad things. The world is a great vessel: it cannot be forced under one’s control, nor can one act upon it at will. To force action is to fail; to insist on control is to lose it. Those who cling to control see only a short distance ahead. Because their vision is limited, they cannot accomplish great things. What is called Wuwei is abiding in stillness; only by abiding in stillness can one become a model for the world.

“Amid abundance, do not become complacent; in a high position, do not grow proud. When things are at their height, do not let them overflow; be full without becoming depleted. Hold a high position without arrogance, and your standing will not collapse. In this way, wealth can be kept for a long time; when high standing does not collapse, honor can endure as well. Wealth and honor remain with you, and blessings and prosperity can extend to your descendants. The principles by which the ancient kings governed the state are all contained in this.”

Laozi also said, “The people need principles that all can follow and laws that all can observe. Moral principles alone cannot make people restrain one another, and authority alone cannot guarantee that people will obey. That is why a ruler is established to govern all as one. When the ruler holds fast to the root, the state can be at peace; when he departs from enduring standards, the state falls into disorder. The ruler’s way lies not in taking action, but in Wuwei.

“The wise do not use virtue as a display; the brave do not use strength to commit violence; the benevolent do not rely on their rank to bestow favors. This may be called holding fast to the root. What is called ‘the One’ is the impartial Dao, the root of all things. When a ruler frequently changes the laws, the state falls into disorder. When he uses his office to express personal likes and dislikes, those below act separately out of fear, and they become difficult to govern. Thus, when a ruler loses the root, the disorder he causes is even worse than having no ruler at all. A ruler must hold fast to the root in order to bring the people together as one.”

Wenzi asked, “How many kinds of kingship are there?” Laozi replied, “There is only one.”

Wenzi asked, “In ancient times, some achieved kingship through virtue, while others achieved it through military force. Why do you say there is only one?” Laozi answered, “Those who achieved kingship through virtue relied on De (Virtue/Power). Those who achieved it through military force, too, could not do so without De.”

There are five kinds of military action. When troops are sent to punish the violent and rescue the weak, this is called a “righteous army.” When an enemy attacks and one is forced to fight back, this is called a “responsive army.” When troops are sent to fight over a minor matter, unable to restrain their anger, this is called an “angry army.” When troops are sent out of greed for another state’s land and wealth, this is called a “greedy army.” When troops are sent because a state relies on its strength and large population to try to overpower another state, this is called an “arrogant army.”

A righteous army can establish kingship, and a responsive army can win. An angry army will fail, a greedy army will be destroyed, and an arrogant army will be annihilated. This is the way of Heaven.

Laozi said, “If you abandon the Dao (the Way) and act only through cleverness and ingenuity, you will meet with danger. If you cast aside common principles and laws and act only on your own abilities, you will fall into difficulty. So remain true to your place and follow the way things are. Do not grieve when you lose, and do not rejoice when you gain. When something is accomplished, do not think you deliberately brought it about. When you obtain something, do not regard it as something you forced yourself to acquire. Receive what comes from outside simply by accepting it; do not seize it greedily. Give to others simply by giving; do not seek repayment. Follow spring in bringing all things to life, and follow autumn in letting them wither. Bring life to all things without claiming credit, and let them wither without incurring resentment. This is close to the Dao.”

Wenzi asked, “How can a ruler win the people’s hearts?” Laozi said, “Be like the rivers and seas. Their waters have little taste, yet people draw on them without exhausting them. Begin with what is subtle, and you will eventually accomplish great things. Whoever wishes to stand above others must speak humbly; whoever wishes to walk ahead of others must place himself behind them in action.

“People throughout the world will naturally follow his care for them. He will put benevolence and righteousness into practice without imposing harsh rule. Though his bearing is elevated, the people will not feel oppressed; though he stands before the crowd, they will not feel obstructed. People throughout the world will gladly support him and never grow weary of him. Even distant foreign lands with different customs, and even flying insects and crawling creatures, will draw near to him and cherish him. Such a person can go anywhere and find a way through, and whatever he does will go smoothly. Thus he becomes one whom all under Heaven honor.”

Laozi said, “To cling to the laws and writings of one age and use them to criticize the customs of later generations is like gluing the frets of a zither in place while still hoping to tune its strings. A sage can adapt to changes in the times, respond to circumstances, and take the right action after seeing the situation at hand. When the world changes, affairs change too; as the times move on, customs differ. To govern one generation, establish laws suited to that generation; as circumstances shift, take measures suited to them. The laws of the rulers of high antiquity were not all the same. Later generations did not deliberately defy ancient laws; the affairs they had to handle were simply different.

“So we should not copy old laws already laid down, but should follow the principles by which laws are made and adjust them as circumstances change. The laws established by sages can be observed and used as a guide, but the fundamental reasons behind them are difficult to recover. Their words can be heard, but the intentions with which they spoke cannot be captured in any fixed form. The Three Sovereigns and Five Emperors treated the power of ruling the world as something of little importance and did not regard the myriad things as precious. They saw life, death, and transformation as ordinary. They embraced the Great Dao and put sincerity into practice, reflecting the conditions of the world like a clear mirror. Above, they united with the Dao; below, they acted in accord with change and with the needs of the people. If people today wish to learn their Dao but lack their clear and mysterious sage-like De, and merely cling to old writings and follow old laws, they will certainly not be able to govern the state well.

“Wenzi asked how to govern affairs of state. Laozi said, ‘Govern by the Dao and nurture through De. Do not flaunt your abilities or rely on force. Lessen private desires, hold fast to the root, and act in accordance with change.’

“Wenzi again asked how to govern affairs of state. Laozi said, ‘Govern by the Dao and nurture through De. Do not flaunt your abilities or rely on force. Lessen private desires and hold fast to the root. Do not claim benefits for yourself or display desires that invite contention. Be upright without hurting others, and be honest without wounding them. Do not praise yourself or presume upon your own achievements.

“When you govern by the Dao, the people will rally to you; when you nurture them through De, they will trust you. If you do not flaunt your abilities, the people will be content with their proper place; if you do not rely on force, they will remain simple and sincere. Not flaunting your abilities means honoring frugality; not relying on force means daring not to act recklessly. You can gather people’s support by occupying a humble position, but seeking profit through bribery will cost you their support. Frugality can preserve you, and careful restraint can bring you security.

“If you refuse to be humble, the people will scatter; if you fail to nurture them, they will turn against you. If you flaunt your abilities, the people will compete with one another; if you use force, they will resent you. When the people scatter, the state’s power weakens; when they turn against you, the ruler loses authority. When they compete, they are more likely to transgress; when those below resent those above, the ruler’s position is endangered. If you put these four principles into practice, you will be close to the right way.”

Laozi said, “The words of those in high positions are for those below them to follow; the words of those below are for those above to consider. The words of those in high positions can usually be followed, while the words of those below must be weighed against the circumstances and adopted with flexibility. Only a sage understands how to adapt: whatever they say, they keep their word; whatever they agree to do, they carry out.

What the world values most is upright conduct and the ability to serve as a witness. Even a father must keep his word, even if it means dying for it. What, then, is so especially worthy of esteem about a daughter? So when sages judge what is right and wrong, they adjust their advance and retreat to the circumstances; they do not follow fixed, unchanging rules. At a sacrifice, the ritual officiant—the person who presides over the rite and delivers its invocations—may be addressed as lord. But if someone is drowning, one grabs one’s father and pulls him to safety. These things are determined by the circumstances.

What is called adapting to circumstances is a principle that sages alone can see clearly. To go against ordinary expectations at first, yet later accord with what is right, is called adaptation. To comply with ordinary expectations at first, yet later violate what is right, is a failure to adapt. Those who fail to adapt mistake good for evil and evil for good.”

Wenzi asked, “Master, you say that without virtue it is impossible to govern the world. The kings of antiquity inherited the foundations laid by their forebears. Some of them did not practice virtue, yet they passed their lives in peace and met with no calamity or ruin. How was this possible?”

Laozi replied, “From the Son of Heaven down to ordinary people, each makes a living, though their circumstances vary. At times, states are lost and families destroyed; the reason is a lack of virtue. Those who practice virtue work without slackening, day and night, remaining cautious and vigilant, always fearing that the state might fall. Those who do not practice virtue indulge their desires and grow lazy and negligent; their ruin may come at any moment.

If Jie and Zhou had followed the right path and governed with virtue, then even the worthy Tang of Shang and King Wu of Zhou would have had no grounds for establishing the merit of punishing them. The work of virtue is to help people sustain one another, support one another’s growth, draw close in affection, and treat one another with respect and care.

Even a foolish creature as dull as a deaf worm does not harm what it loves. If all the people in the world were filled with benevolence, where could calamities and disasters arise? In places where the Dao is not followed yet no harm has occurred for a time, benevolence and righteousness have simply not yet been extinguished. Though they have not vanished, the feudal lords have already begun to hold their ruler in contempt. When the lords hold their ruler in contempt, the court ceases to show respect. If they are then allowed to persist in their disobedience, benevolence and righteousness will be extinguished. The lords will rebel, the people will contend in strength and violence, the powerful will oppress the weak, and great states will seize from small ones. Everyone will treat attacks and conflict as ordinary affairs. Disasters will arise from this, disorder will follow, and ruin will soon arrive. How could anyone expect to escape calamity?”

Laozi said, “When laws and decrees are complicated and punishments severe, the people develop deceitful practices. When those above have too many affairs to manage, those below devise many ways to offer a false show of compliance. The more one demands, the less one obtains; the more prohibitions one imposes, the harder they are to enforce. To create problems through administrative measures and then try to stop them with further measures is like fanning a flame while hoping it will not burn. To create calamities through clever schemes and then try to guard against them with more clever schemes cannot truly avert disaster.”

Laozi said: When laws and regulations are numerous and punishments severe, the people will give rise to deceit. When those above are preoccupied with complicated affairs, those below will become more prone to pretense. The more one demands, the less one actually obtains; the more prohibitions there are, the less they can truly prevent. To use one measure that sets off further measures, then use another to suppress them, is like holding up a torch and expecting it not to burn. To use cleverness to create calamities, then use cleverness to guard against them, is like stirring the water and expecting it to become clear.

Laozi said: When a ruler favors benevolence, he rewards those without merit and pardons the guilty. When he favors punishment, he rejects those who have earned merit and implicates the innocent. If he neither favors nor despises, he will not execute people arbitrarily; he gives to the people without claiming the credit as his own virtue. A ruler should be like Heaven and Earth: not intervening personally in specific affairs, but allowing things to be covered and supported. He follows things and brings them into harmony; this is the way of the ruler. To single people out and punish them is the function of law. When the people receive punishment without resentment, this is called Dao and De.

Laozi said: There is no fixed standard for right and wrong under Heaven. In every age, people take what they like to be right and what they dislike to be wrong. People often pursue what they call “right” not to seek the principles of a matter, but to make things conform to their own wishes. What they call eliminating evil may simply mean rejecting what does not suit them. Now I want to choose what is called right and follow it, and discard what is called wrong, but I do not know what the world means by right and wrong. Therefore, governing a great state is like cooking a small fish: simply do not stir it too often.

Those who devote themselves to pleasing others may speak just what others want to hear, yet this does not necessarily bring them closer. If they are already distant, even a sound plan may instead arouse suspicion. Now I want to set myself right and follow all things, but how can I know what standards the world will use to judge me? To rush after worldly opinion is like someone seeking shelter from the rain with nowhere to hide: they will keep getting wet. If one deliberately pursues emptiness, one cannot attain true stillness and emptiness. Without deliberately seeking emptiness, one can become naturally still and empty, and attain whatever one seeks.

One who understands the Great Dao is like an axle: it does not turn of itself, yet it carries the wheels, traveling a thousand miles and circling without end. The sage understands the Dao and returns to the original nature, remaining unchanged by external things while following their transformations. The sage acts without acting recklessly.

Laozi said: If a country repeatedly goes to war and wins again and again, it will eventually perish. Frequent warfare exhausts the people, while repeated victories make the ruler arrogant. If an arrogant ruler drives an exhausted people into battle, the country is in danger. Therefore, the sage understands the Dao and returns to the original nature, remaining unchanged by external things while following their transformations. The sage acts, but does not act recklessly.

Laozi said: A state that frequently sends out its armies and repeatedly wins will ultimately perish. Waging war again and again exhausts the people, while repeated victories make the ruler arrogant. Few states can avoid perishing when an arrogant ruler puts an exhausted people to work. Arrogant, the ruler gives free rein to his desires until he has used everything up; exhausted, the people grow resentful and then devote all their ingenuity to protecting themselves. When both ruler and people have gone to extremes, no state has ever survived. Thus, once one’s achievements are complete, withdrawing from public life accords with the Way of Heaven.

King Ping asked Wenzi: “I have heard that you received the Dao from Lao Dan. Even when a worthy person possesses the Dao, if he encounters a time of political chaos, can he truly change a people who have long been mired in disorder through his own efforts alone?”

Wenzi replied: “The work of Dao and De is to correct what is deviant and restore it to the right, calm disorder and bring stability, and transform extravagant, corrupt customs into simplicity. When honest and generous De flourishes again, the world will be at peace. It all depends on one person. The ruler is the people’s teacher; those in high positions are examples for those below. Whatever those above esteem, those below will imitate. If those above possess Dao and De, those below will uphold benevolence and righteousness; when those below uphold benevolence and righteousness, a licentious and corrupt age will not arise.

“De must be accumulated for kingly rule to be achieved; resentment, when accumulated, leads to ruin. Stones gathered together can form a mountain, and streams gathered together can form a sea. Nothing has ever been accomplished without accumulation. When a person accumulates De, Heaven bestows blessings, Earth gives support, and spirits and gods lend their aid. The phoenix flies over his courtyard, the qilin appears in his fields, and the dragon rests in his ponds. Thus, to govern the world through the Dao is to bring De to the world; to govern the world without the Dao is to bring calamity upon it. If a person makes an enemy of the whole world, he cannot possibly maintain his position for long. This is why Yao and Shun prospered, while Jie and Zhou perished.”

King Ping said: “I respectfully accept your instruction.”

Wenzi Zuanyi, juan five

Complete Library of the Four Treasuries, by Imperial Decree

Wenzi Zuanyi, juan six, written by Du Daojian of the Song dynasty

“Chapter on Superior De”

An old commentary says: “‘Superior De’ refers to rulers of the present age who possess De. The ways of governance of the Xia, Shang, and Zhou dynasties had declined, and the De of the Five Hegemons of the Spring and Autumn period had also waned. Therefore, one should cultivate De and win over the people through De. The ruler’s achievements can be made manifest, and his De deserves reverence; hence the chapter is called ‘Superior De.’”

Laozi said: The ruler is the heart of the state. When the heart is at peace, all the parts of the body are at peace; when the heart is disturbed, all the parts of the body fall into disorder.

An old commentary says: Governing a state depends on the ruler’s clear insight. When the ruler sees clearly, the people can live in peace and contentment. Cultivating oneself depends on keeping the heart upright. When the heart is upright, all the parts of the body can each remain in their proper place.

Thus, when body and mind are properly regulated, the limbs and body work in harmony, each fulfilling its function.

A country is governed effectively because ruler and ministers live in harmony and do not suspect one another. An old commentary says this shows that there are no worries or calamities.

The Zanyi says that De (Virtue/Power) returning to unity has two expressions: Heaven’s De nurtures all things, while a ruler’s De cares for the people. A ruler is like the heart of the state. When the ruler has De, the heart is broad and settled, and its vital energy does not become disordered; the state, like a body, then settles of its own accord. When ruler and ministers live in harmony, the state is naturally easy to govern. Thus the text says, “One of highest De does not make a display of De”: someone who has De does not regard it as something to rely on for self-importance, and is therefore truly virtuous.

Laozi once studied with Changcong, his teacher. An old commentary says that Laozi recounts how he received instruction from Changcong, and that the words below are Changcong’s.

When Changcong saw the ancient Way, he held fast to softness and weakness. The old commentary notes that in Ming-dynasty editions the character “ancient” is written as “tongue.” Here, “ancient” refers to the ancient Way, while “holding to softness” means maintaining a yielding, modest, and humble attitude.

Changcong looked up at the eaves and the trees. The old commentary says this expresses his lament that time does not stand still. Later, when he stepped back and gazed at the river, he lamented that things pass away without ceasing. In Ming-dynasty editions, the phrase “eyes on the river” is written as “because of the river”; “because” is likely an error for “eyes.”

From the changing shapes of shadows, he realized that one should take the position behind. The old commentary says this means not acting ahead of things.

Thus the sage is empty and still, practices Wuwei (non-action), and follows the natural changes of things, often staying behind rather than striving to be first. It is like stacking wood to make a fire: the pieces placed on later end up on top. The later pieces above and the earlier ones below form the natural order of things. If one is intent on getting ahead of others, one may not truly come out ahead.

The Zanyi says Changcong was a sage of antiquity. Laozi studied with Changcong just as Confucius studied with Laozi. Laozi witnessed the Dao directly, and his spirit silently accorded with it. Thus he could understand the ancient Way and hold fast to softness, and could also learn from the changing shapes of shadows to take the position behind. The sage therefore follows nature, remains empty and still, does not compete in strength, and does not dare to strive to be first. This is called “highest De.”

Laozi said: “A ringing bell wears itself down by producing sound; an oil lamp consumes itself by giving light. Tigers and leopards invite hunters because of the patterns on their coats, while monkeys are captured because of their agility. Thus, those who show off their courage and love to fight die through their own violence, while those skilled in argument become trapped by their cleverness. People can use their intelligence to understand things, but they may not be able to use it to understand what they themselves do not know.”

An old commentary says: “Acting through one’s talents can harm oneself. Only by knowing what one cannot do can one perhaps preserve oneself. Using cleverness can damage oneself; only by knowing not to show off one’s cleverness can one perhaps preserve oneself.”

Therefore, someone who shows strength in only one matter, judges a situation from a single remark, or is suited to discussing only one narrow aspect cannot be expected to respond broadly to all kinds of things.

An old commentary says: “Someone with only the courage of an ordinary man cannot command a crowd. Clinging to a narrow point of view does not accord with the path that leads to the Dao.” The Zanyi says: “What people value is virtue, not an abundance of cleverness. Too much cleverness often arises from within oneself and eventually turns back to harm oneself; few escape this harm. The patterns on a tiger’s or leopard’s coat invite hunters, and a monkey’s agility invites capture: the principle is the same. It is no wonder that scholars lose their lives by showing off their courage and become trapped by their cleverness. Only those who do not force their way to understand things through cleverness, but use wisdom to recognize what they themselves cannot know, will avoid being limited to one narrow view and will be able to respond broadly.”

Laozi said: “The Dao takes nonbeing as its substance.”

An old commentary says: “The substance of the Dao is emptiness and nothingness. This is what is called the subtle and mysterious.”

To look at it, yet see no form; to listen for it, yet hear no sound—this is called the hidden and profound. “Hidden and profound” is a way of speaking about the Dao, but it is not the Dao itself.

An old commentary says: “It is like using a fish trap to catch fish: the trap is not the fish. Words can be used to speak about the Dao, but words are not the Dao.”

The practice of the Dao lies in turning one’s attention inward and examining oneself.

An old commentary says: “Gather in your hearing and turn your attention inward, and you can understand the Dao through yourself.”

Therefore, if people fail to awaken to what is small, they will lose their way in what is great; without small wisdom, they will have great folly.

An old commentary says: “To compare the faint glow of a firefly with the sun—what could that be but delusion? To mistake a piece of Yan stone for fine jade—what could that be but folly?”

Nothing is less suitable as a mirror than flowing, churning water. Still water, by contrast, reflects forms because it can preserve its inner quiet and remain undisturbed by external things.

An old commentary says: “When distracting thoughts in the mind stir outward, the mind is like turbid, flowing water and is often clouded. When the nature of water is inwardly empty and still, it becomes clear like a deep pool and can reflect things.”

At the full moon, its light shines so brightly that it seems to eclipse the sun. Once the sun rises, the stars disappear and cannot compete with its radiance. A branch cannot surpass the trunk, nor can the trunk be greater than the root. When the top is heavy and the bottom light, a tree is easily toppled.

An old commentary says: This means that once a ruler has issued an order, he should not appoint petty people to office. Appointing them would be like letting moonlight eclipse the sun. The trunk and branches should be in proper proportion, with the honored and the lowly each in their proper place; only then can danger and upheaval be avoided.

A deep pool cannot hold two dragons, and one female beast cannot have two males. With only one, things can be settled; with two, they will struggle.

An old commentary says: When a ruler is single-minded, the state is at peace; when people’s minds are single-minded, their hearts are calm.

Jade hidden in a mountain nourishes the plants and trees there; pearls born in a deep pool keep its banks from drying out.

An old commentary says: Mountains and rivers that contain fine jade appear radiant and beautiful. In the same way, when a noble person accumulates virtue, it shines forth.

The earthworm has neither strong bones and sinews nor sharp claws and teeth, yet above ground it eats dry soil, and underground it drinks from the Yellow Springs. This is because its mind is undivided.

An old commentary says: When hungry, the earthworm eats soil; when thirsty, it drinks water. It has no distracting thoughts, so it does not need strong bones and sinews or sharp claws and teeth. If a person wholeheartedly preserves the Dao, why wait to gain fame and wealth before feeling satisfied?

The Zanyu says: The Dao takes “nonbeing” as its substance, and so things can proceed alongside one another without conflict. Concrete things act through what has form, and so they cannot both contend for the same place. As the substance of things, the formless Dao brings stability through unity of purpose; when formed things stand side by side, they struggle. Yet there are distinctions between great and small, and roles for ruler and subject. A ruler who embraces the Dao and holds to De without claiming them as his own is precisely what allows the Dao to be vast and De to endure. Who in the world would still dare to contend for supremacy?

When water is clear, one can see plainly: even a cup of water can reflect the eye. When it is turbid, it obscures: even a great river cannot reveal Mount Tai.

An old commentary says: Though there is little water, if it is clear and bright, it can reveal the smallest things. Though there is a great expanse of water, if it is murky, it cannot reveal the mountains.

Orchids and angelica are naturally fragrant; they do not stop giving off their scent just because no one wears them. A boat floats on rivers and seas; it does not sink just because no one rides in it. A noble person follows the right Way and does not stop simply because no one knows of it. This is in their nature.

The upright are bound to suffer hardship and humiliation when they enter a corrupt environment; the corrupt are bound to fall and fail when they enter an upright one. The worthy and the foolish cannot easily stand together, just as the clear and the turbid cannot be mixed in the same vessel.

When the two Qi in the sky meet, a rainbow forms; when the two Qi on earth meet, the earth’s Qi disperses; when the two Qi within the human body fall out of balance, illness arises. In the principles of Heaven, Earth, and humanity, what matters is preserving unity. Yin and Yang cannot always remain settled apart, nor will they remain joined forever. Winter does not last forever, and neither does summer. The moon knows nothing of daytime, and the sun knows nothing of night: each has its time, and they do not become confused with one another.

Only a broad river can sustain great fish; only a towering mountain can grow tall trees; only a vast land can bear profound De.

So one cannot fish without bait, or lure beasts with empty traps. To draw things near, one cannot simply sit and wait; the Dao, too, needs people to spread and expound it.

When fierce beasts dwell in the mountains, the trees are spared from being cut down; when poisonous insects inhabit a garden, its sunflowers and bean leaves are spared from being picked. When a state has worthy ministers, it can resist threats from beyond its borders and bring stability to distant regions. If fierce beasts and poisonous insects can protect plants, then worthy and noble people can surely assist the ruler and safeguard the people.

One who understands the great Dao is like an axle turning within a wheel hub: the axle itself does not travel forward, yet it carries the carriage a thousand miles. In this way, the cycle repeats without end, moving within the inexhaustible source.

So what would come of appointing crooked people to assist the upright? If it is not possible to appoint only the upright, then do not let the crooked put their schemes into practice and carry on.

Clear water reflects images, and a clear mind discerns things; the principle is just this. When water becomes muddy, its reflections grow dim; when the mind is unclear, it becomes difficult to see things as they are.

Water must be clear to reflect things like a mirror; the mind must be clear to distinguish among the myriad things. When water is muddy, it becomes dark and obscure. A gentleman and a petty person cannot both hold power at the same time, just as winter’s cold and summer’s heat cannot occur together. When cold and heat alternate out of their proper order, calamities arise; when gentlemen and petty people contend for power side by side, trouble follows. Even so, would a gentleman refuse to take office forever simply because petty people hold power and the right way cannot be put into practice?

When a bird is about to fly in, spread a net and wait for it. A bird is caught by the meshes of the net; but if you spread only one mesh, you will never catch a bird. An old commentary says: A single person’s ability is not enough to govern a multitude, just as a net with only one mesh cannot catch a bird.

Some matters cannot be governed by fixed methods laid down in advance, and some things cannot be predicted beforehand. Therefore, sages cultivate their Dao, De, and abilities while waiting for the right moment. An old commentary says: The sage acts in accord with the Way of Heaven and acts at the opportune time. Before the time has come, the sage holds fast to the right way; when it comes, the sage puts learning into practice. This is how King Wen of Zhou began the royal enterprise of the Zhou, and how Emperor Gaozu of Han established the Han dynasty.

To catch fish, first clear the waterways; to attract birds, first plant trees. When water gathers, fish gather; when trees flourish, birds settle among them. To obtain fish is not to lift them up and put them into deep water; to obtain an ape is not to carry it up a tree on your back. It is enough to provide what suits them, allowing each to find its proper place.

An old commentary says: A ruler and his ministers bring out the best in one another, like fish drawn to water and birds sheltering in trees. Meet each according to their needs, and they will come without being summoned. A wise ruler governs like a deep pool: loyal and worthy people will naturally gather around him.

The ground actually covered by our feet is slight, yet to keep moving we must rely on the ground not yet crossed. The mind already knows little, yet to understand further we must draw on what it does not yet know.

An old commentary says: The ground we have crossed is small, while the ground still uncrossed is vast; what we know is limited, while what we do not know is extensive. Knowing how to draw on power not yet used enables us to fulfill what we have already put to use; recognizing what we do not know makes our existing understanding more complete.

When a river dries up, the valley becomes empty; when a hill is leveled, the deep pool fills with silt. When the lips are gone, the teeth grow cold. The deeper the river, the more fertile the soil on the mountain. An old commentary says: These words show that ruler and people depend on each other, just as mountains and rivers are connected. When the river is deep and abundant, the land on the mountain is nourished. If a ruler imposes excessive levies, the people’s resources are depleted. Once the people’s strength is exhausted, the ruler’s position too is endangered. This is precisely the meaning of “when the lips are gone, the teeth grow cold.”

When the water’s surface is calm, the water becomes clear; when the water is clear, its surface is still. A still surface makes it easy to discern the shapes of things. But those shapes should not therefore be taken as the standard by which right and wrong are judged. (Textual note: the Ming printed edition reads, “Shapes cannot be compared, and so they may be taken as correct.”)

An old commentary says: When a ruler’s mind is clear, it is like still, clear water: it can see deeply into human affairs, leaving nowhere for good and evil to hide. When the ruler’s policies are carried out peacefully, people’s hearts become settled.

The Zanyi says: Only when you understand that people are useful can you speak of governing. The key to governing a state lies with the ruler alone; yet without the support of others, the state cannot be governed. How can one hope to find worthy people without first cultivating the scholars? The sage accumulates De and waits for the right time. When worthy people are found, undertakings flourish; there is no one who cannot be put to use.

What makes leaves fall is the wind shaking the branches; what makes water turbid is an outside force disturbing its surface.

An old commentary says: There has never been a case of trees shedding their leaves on their own without wind shaking them, or of water remaining clear while outside forces continually disturb it.

Jade discs and jade rings are made through the work of carving and polishing; the sword Moye, an ancient famous blade, can cut through things because it has been sharpened on a whetstone. An old commentary says: Though fine jade and precious swords are of excellent material, they must still be worked and polished before they can become valuable objects. Though gentlemen and worthy people possess talent by nature, they must also be taught by their teachers and elders to accomplish their undertakings.

Lü’ěr and Ji, legendary fine horses, can travel a thousand li in a day, yet cannot fly. If they have no means of carrying provisions, they will not therefore go hungry. An old commentary says: When a state relies on worthy people, its foundations are firm, and the ruler need not worry even while sitting at ease. When things are supported by favorable conditions, they can reach distant places swiftly and without exertion.

Once the cunning hare is caught, the hunting dog is boiled and eaten. An old commentary says: This is the inevitable course of events.

Once the high-flying birds have all been caught, the fine bow is put away. An old commentary says: This is because the bow is no longer needed.

To withdraw after success and fame have been achieved is a constant principle of Heaven’s Dao. An old commentary says: One who understands when to advance and retreat, knows the patterns of hardship and success, embraces the Great Dao and steadfastly upholds De, and preserves both self and reputation may be called a worthy person.

Anger arises from not being angry; action arises from non-action. Only by observing from emptiness can one see.

Anger is not a person’s natural state; one becomes angry only when something happens. Action, too, is not a person’s natural state; one acts only when the heart has a desire. To discern whether anger has gone too far, or whether an action is right or wrong, look inward and perceive what has no form; listen inwardly and hear what has no sound. In other words, turn back and illuminate your nature, letting the heart return to silence, formlessness, angerlessness, and non-action. What matters is seeing where there is nothing to cling to, rather than chasing things outside oneself.

Birds fly back to their homeland, rabbits race back to their burrows, foxes die with their heads turned toward the hills where they were born, and cold cicadas—a kind of insect—find trees where they can settle. Each returns to the place where it grew. An old commentary says that all things remember their roots, though some people turn away from the right path.

The Dao can be followed alone, but it cannot be possessed alone. A person walking on foot grows tired before covering even a hundred li in a day; with a fine horse, one can reach a thousand li away. Anger can arise from a state of no anger: King Wen and King Wu thereby brought peace to the people under Heaven, while Yao and Shun established a government of Wuwei. If those who govern a country are skilled at appointing capable people, who among the people would not rally to them?

Water and fire overcome one another, but with a ding or li—a vessel used for cooking in ancient times—to mediate between them, the five flavors can be brought into harmony. Fathers and sons are naturally close and loving, but if slanderers come between them, they can be made to distrust one another. An old commentary says that although things may have opposing qualities, with skillful use even the conflict between water and fire can produce harmony. Likewise, if malicious people sow discord between a loving father and son, they may come to suspect each other; therefore, the wise must be discerning.

Dogs and pigs eat without regard for the vessels they use, and their bodies grow ever fatter, bringing them closer to death. An old commentary says that petty people pursue fame and profit single-mindedly: even if they gain distinction for a time, they will ultimately fall into hardship. The wise keep to the Dao and wait for the right moment: even if they are temporarily frustrated, they will eventually find their way to success.

The phoenix flies high in the sky, beyond anyone’s power to summon down. Zhuihuai—an obscure term, with an old commentary giving its pronunciation as “zhihuaifan”—cannot become useful in its own right, even when placed in a hundred containers.

The eyes can see a hundred paces away, yet cannot see their own corners.

An old commentary says that in pursuing grand things, people often overlook what is subtle. Looking too far away can also make them miss what is near.

Build a mountain by piling up earth on high ground, and it will stand firm and safe. Dig a deep pool in a low place, and fish and turtles will gather there. Another version reads, “Dig deep, and fish and turtles will gather.” An old commentary says that when one works with conditions that make a task easy, things can be accomplished naturally without wearing people out. By making use of the familiar habits of things, one need not summon them; they will come of their own accord.

The water collected in ditches and ponds overflows after days of heavy rain, then dries up in a drought. The sources of rivers and seas are deep and vast, so their waters never run dry.

An old commentary says: A vessel with little capacity is easily filled when water is poured in, and easily emptied when water is taken out. A vessel with great capacity cannot be filled by adding water, nor emptied by drawing water from it.

Although a turtle has no ears, its eyesight cannot be obscured, for it sees well. Although a blind person has no eyes, his hearing cannot be obscured, for he hears well.

An old commentary says: Each relies on the strength of one sense; neither can take the place of the other.

Can muddy water be used to wash my feet? Can cool, clear water be used to wash my hatstrings?

An old commentary says: Clear and muddy water each have their own use, just as the worthy and the foolish may both be put to work. One should weigh each person’s abilities when assigning duties, and respond flexibly according to the actual circumstances of each matter.

Fine white gauze, woven from silk thread, can be made into either a hat or socks.

An old commentary says: The uses of things are not fixed.

A hat is worn on the head, while socks are worn on the feet.

An old commentary says: Each follows its proper place, and both can play an essential role.

The Zan Yi says: People have no standard of right that is correct forever, and things have no right or wrong that remains fixed forever. When their vital energy is harmonious, they can unite with one another; when it runs counter, they part. Fire by nature rises, and water by nature descends. But when a ding and a li—ancient vessels for cooking food—are used to bring them together, water and fire can work in harmony. A father’s foundation is loving-kindness, and a son’s is filial devotion; but if slanderous words come between them, resentment may arise like that between the stars Shen and Shang, which never meet. Dogs and pigs that grow excessively fat are close to death; the phoenix flies high, beyond anyone’s power to summon. Clear water is used to wash hatstrings, muddy water to wash feet. How could one fail to be cautious if one cannot keep oneself clean, but instead lets external things defile one?

Metal overcomes wood, yet a blade cannot fell a whole forest. Earth overcomes water, yet a handful of soil cannot block a river. Water overcomes fire, yet a ladleful cannot put out a cartload of firewood.

An old commentary says: This is a metaphor for how one upright person cannot change the many who are crooked, and how one person’s wisdom cannot transform a crowd of the deluded.

When thunder sounds in winter and hail falls in summer, it shows that cold and heat are no longer following their proper seasons. Frost and snow may fall in abundance, yet soon melt away. Once the sun comes out, they flow and vanish.

People readily lean on things that are easy to topple, and readily approach those that are easy to help. Damp places are prone to rain. The wise draw near to the good, while the foolish draw near to the wicked; their dispositions and prevailing ways readily attach to and influence one another.

Orchids and angelica are so fragrant that they are easily picked, never lasting until frost appears. The toad is said to ward off harm from weapons, and its lifespan is linked to the fifteenth day of the fifth month. An old commentary cites the Wanbi Shu: kill a toad in the middle of the fifth month and smear its blood on a weapon; carried into battle, it will keep the bearer from being wounded. These things are useful, yet for that very reason they easily invite calamity. Better to keep one’s reputation concealed and preserve oneself.

When essence is depleted from within, the branches and stems on the outside are liable to wither.

Fruit that ripens out of season should not be eaten. An old commentary says that eating at an improper time can bring illness, while seeking profit in ways that violate the Way can invite calamity.

The ways in which all things overcome and restrain one another follow their own fixed order. When the weak shoulder too great a responsibility, they inevitably end up being controlled in turn. Wood overcomes Metal, Water overcomes Earth, and Fire overcomes Water, yet these acts of overcoming do not accord with what is proper to each element’s nature. Thunder in winter and hail in summer are ultimately out of season and cannot last long. How, then, can people fail to act within the measure of their strength?

Between the tongue and the teeth, which is damaged first? Between a rope and an arrow, which is more likely to stay straight? What is hard seems strong, yet is easily damaged; what is supple bends readily and can, in turn, set things right.

The body makes the shadow crooked, and the voice makes the echo muddled. When the body is upright, the shadow will not be crooked; when words are good, they will not produce a bad echo.

When an illness is certain to be fatal, it is difficult to be a good physician. When one follows the same path as a doomed state, one cannot be a loyal minister capable of saving it. An old commentary says that if a patient is certain to die, even a skilled physician can scarcely save them; if a state is certain to fall, even a loyal minister cannot preserve it.

When a musician blows a mouth organ and a craftsperson presses the holes on it, even if the tune keeps time, the instrument’s sound may not flow smoothly or harmoniously. This is because the player’s actions and the maker’s work are not coordinated, and mind and hand do not work together. How could the task be done well? The point here is that when the ruler loses control, matters become difficult to decide.

A deaf person cannot hear singing and so cannot take pleasure in it; a blind person cannot see the scenery and so cannot engage with the world through sight. An old commentary says that because deaf people cannot hear sounds, they lose the capacity to imagine music; because blind people cannot see colors, they no longer perceive things by looking at them.

When walking through a forest, one cannot always follow a straight path; when crossing dangerous ground, one cannot simply follow the lines marked by an inked cord. An old commentary says that in a forest there is no need to seek out a narrow path through the fields: one need only choose a way that allows passage. And when crossing dangerous ground, one need not rigidly observe the rules; what matters is getting through the danger.

The sea receives a hundred rivers and welcomes every kind of current; that is why it can be vast. An old commentary says that it continually gives rise to things without being depleted, and can be drawn upon without limit. For this reason, it is called vast.

It is difficult to get things done when one is in a place unsuited to oneself and relies on people unsuited to the task. Teeth are hard, yet for that very reason they are easily worn down first; an arrow shaft is too rigid, and so it is easily the first to break. These all share the same failing as things headed toward death. Even a good physician cannot cure a state on the verge of collapse; no loyal adviser can serve a ruler who does not follow the right path. If a ruler acts against the right path while his subjects forcefully remonstrate with him, and their plans are divided in purpose, how can anything succeed?

There is never more than one sun at a time; among foxes, two males do not rule together; and a spirit dragon does not stand alongside fierce beasts. Fierce beasts do not form herds, and birds of prey do not pair off. An old commentary says that all these stand apart and do not mingle with the other beasts and birds; that is how they become leaders among beasts and birds.

Without a handle, a carriage canopy cannot shield one from the sun; without spokes, a wheel cannot turn and carry the vehicle forward. Clearly, one cannot rely on the wheel alone. An old commentary says that things need to work together and cannot depend on just one element.

A bow cannot shoot an arrow without a bowstring; and the act of shooting itself accounts for only a small part of whether the arrow hits its mark. An old commentary says that however powerful a bow may be, without a string it cannot hit a target. Likewise, however wise a ruler may be, without loyal ministers to assist him he will find it difficult to accomplish his aims. Many people shoot arrows, but few hit their mark; many seek official rank and emoluments, but very few seek out worthy people.

When horses are hungry in the stable, they stand quietly without a sound. But put fodder beside them, and they begin fighting over it.

Those who lack grain can be helped to sustain their livelihood only by giving them grain. Many people shoot arrows, yet fewer than one in ten can truly hit the target. Many seek official stipends, but among ten thousand, scarcely two genuinely seek people of virtue.

A horse waits in its stall with an empty belly, silent and still. Set fodder beside it, and the impulse to fight over it arises.

An old commentary says: When people who lack grain receive it, they begin to compete for it. When people who yearn for fame and status live together, they are bound to compete with one another. Thus, the noble person yields an official stipend, while the petty person contends for office.

A bamboo tube three inches long, if it has no bottom, cannot be filled even with all the water under Heaven. A vessel of ten shi, if it has a bottom, can be filled by putting in a hundred dou. An old commentary takes this to mean that the greedy have desires without limit and are hard to satisfy, like a bottomless vessel that can never be filled.

Cut along the ink line, and the cut will not deviate. Suspend the beam of a scale to weigh something, and the measure will not be inaccurate. Ancient laws and standards should also be adjusted to fit the times: at some times punishments such as beating with a staff or execution are applied; at others, they are not. When a method suits the time, the judgment is sound. To know that it does not suit the time and still apply it is to bring disorder to governance.

An old commentary says: Follow the ink line, and things will not stray; weigh with a scale, and matters can be handled appropriately. But circumstances differ between ancient and present times, so laws and standards should change accordingly. To cling to old laws without knowing how to adapt is instead to plunge governance into disorder.

The “Commentary on the Meaning of the Continuation” says: The sun does not appear twice at once, divine dragons do not come in pairs, and fierce beasts do not gather in herds—how much less so, then, with people? The spokes support the wheel’s canopy, and the axle turns the wheels; ruler and minister depend on one another in just this way. The hungry horse fights over fodder because rewards must not be handed out indiscriminately. Cut along the ink line, and the law will not deviate. Punishments such as beating with a staff or execution must be applied according to the right moment; what matters is how those who enforce the law use them.

Farmers labor so that the noble person may be provided for; fools speak so that the wise may select what is useful in their words. An old commentary says: The hardship of farming is contained within this, as is the stipend earned through learning.

When a matter is clear, it is distinct as jade. When it is obscure and uncertain, one should suspend judgment for the time being and consider it carefully. An old commentary says: When the principles of a matter are clear and its boundaries distinct, there is naturally no need for doubt. If the situation is rough and unclear, and hard to discern, one should deliberate with caution.

The hardship of farming is contained within this, as is the stipend earned through learning.

When a matter is clear, it is distinct as jade. When it is obscure and uncertain, one should suspend judgment for the time being and consider it carefully. An old commentary says: When the principles of a matter are clear and its boundaries distinct, there is naturally no need for doubt. If the situation is rough and unclear, and hard to discern, one should deliberate with caution.

The light of a hundred stars is no match for a single bright moon. Even with ten windows open, one window brings more light. An old commentary says: However numerous petty people may be, they cannot shoulder great responsibility; though virtuous scholars are few, one is enough. Did King Wen of Zhou and Emperor Gaozu of Han succeed by relying on large numbers, when King Wen had Lü Wang (Jiang Taigong) and Gaozu had Zifang (Zhang Liang)?

You cannot add legs to a viper, or wings to a tiger.

The old commentary says that no one is good at everything, and nothing is perfect in every respect.

Suppose there is a mat six feet wide. Crawling across it while lying down is not difficult, even for someone with little ability. But stepping across it while standing is not easy, even for someone highly skilled. Because the posture is different, the task naturally differs in difficulty.

The old commentary says that people have different abilities: some things they can accomplish, while others they cannot. The reason is that each person has their own strengths.

Those who help with a sacrifice can share in tasting the offerings; those who step in to stop a fight may themselves be injured.

The old commentary says that encountering a good deed can bring benefit, while encountering a harmful one may bring injury.

Taking shelter beneath an inauspicious tree can leave one struck by thunder.

The old commentary says that even beneath an inauspicious tree, it is hard to escape Heaven’s might. Likewise, those who shelter evildoers will in the end face punishment under the law of the state.

The sun and moon would shine brightly, but floating clouds obscure them. The river would run clear, but silt and sand muddy it. Clusters of orchids would grow lush, but the autumn wind destroys them. Human nature would be tranquil, but it is harmed by craving—the pursuit of excessive desire and pleasure. When the body is covered in dust, it is impossible to keep the dust from blinding the eyes.

The old commentary says that, shrouded in darkness, how can one see clearly? Long exposure to craving is like repeated falls of frost and snow: orchids and fragrant plants can hardly preserve their scent. It is also like silt stirring up a stream: the river cannot remain clear.

A worthy person will wear a gold turtle-shaped clasp; someone with ability can also make a fortune from soil covering the ground.

The old commentary says that without knowing how to use something, even gold and jade will be regarded as dirt. Knowing how to put it to use, one can turn even soil into treasure.

Therefore, it is better to give a weak and incapable person a length of white silk than to give them gold and jade.

The old commentary says that “weak” here means foolish and feeble. A length of white silk might help such a person preserve their well-being; gold and jade, by contrast, could bring them trouble. It is like allowing a petty person to hold high office: in the end, this brings danger and ruin.

The Zanyi says: If farmers do not work, the gentleman has nothing to sustain him; if the gentleman does not govern agriculture, how can farmers live in peace? A snake has no feet, and a tiger has no wings; neither can possess both. When floating clouds obscure the sun, the fault lies not in the sun itself. When craving harms human nature, the fault likewise does not lie in human nature itself.

The hub of a wheel is hollow at its center, yet it can hold thirty spokes. Each spoke does its part, and only then can the cart move. If just one spoke were fitted into the hub while all the others left it, how could the cart travel far?

Farmers labor diligently in the fields so that gentlemen may have grain to sustain them. If gentlemen do not oversee agricultural affairs, how can farmers live in peace? A snake has no feet, and a tiger has no wings; neither can have both. When drifting clouds cover the sun, the fault does not lie with the sun itself. When desires harm a person’s nature, the trouble is not caused by someone else.

An old commentary says: Building a cart requires many spokes for it to travel far; governing a state likewise depends on people of many talents to preserve lasting stability.

Orange and pomelo trees each have places suited to their growth; sedges and reeds each grow in their own stands. Animals with similar claws often roam together, and birds with similar wings often fly together.

An old commentary says: Those with the same Qi (vital energy) respond to one another, and those of the same kind gather together.

You may wish to learn about the regions of the Nine Provinces—an ancient name for China—but lack the strength to walk a thousand li. You may wish to rule the people, yet lack the foundations of governance and instruction. Such a task will be difficult.

An old commentary says: If you wish to see the Nine Regions, how can you do so without going there yourself? If you wish to govern all affairs, how can you take up the position without principles and methods?

Evil people gather together, and those who flock in groups will also be shot at.

An old commentary says: “Xiongxiong” means wicked, and “titi” means gathered in a group. The sense is that when a band of wicked people assembles, they are bound to suffer harm, being executed or captured. “Ti” is pronounced like “shi.”

Thus, what is supremely bright may appear tarnished; those of great De (Virtue/Power) may seem deficient.

An old commentary says: Precisely because purity is so evident, it may seem as though it has been disgraced. When De is not displayed outwardly, it may appear wanting.

The gentleman has wine.

An old commentary says: This means that the gentleman drinks too much.

The small man beats on a clay jar. Though the act is not worthy of approval, it may still serve as a warning.

An old commentary says: The gentleman drinks to excess, while the small man beats on a clay jar as a warning. If even the small man’s conduct is not worthy of praise, then the gentleman’s excessive drinking is all the more disgraceful.

The Zhuanyi says: The Supreme Norm, at the center, relies on support from the eight directions to establish good governance. The hub is hollow and depends on many spokes for a cart to move forward. The Son of Heaven occupies the center of the realm and stands above the people. Without the foundations of government and instruction, he is like someone who lacks the strength to walk a thousand li yet hopes to see all the Nine Provinces: how could he succeed? Only by setting the ruler’s position right and letting him remain in his role, while each official carries out their own duties, can the realm be governed without leaving the court.

People differ in their nature and circumstances, so they choose ways of acting that suit them. On ordinary days, one wears silk clothing; when facing arrows, one puts on armor. This is to adapt to the situation at hand and gain an advantage.

Thirty spokes converge at a single hub, each aligned with its own mortise and unable to be fitted into another. This is like officials each keeping to their own duties, without overstepping their roles.

Those skilled at employing people are like the many legs of a centipede, which do not hinder one another, or like the tongue and teeth, one soft and the other hard, which rub together without harming each other. They let the strong and the gentle each serve to good effect, and the foolish and the wise alike put their abilities to use, each keeping to their proper role.

Stone is hard by nature, and angelica is fragrant by nature. Qualities present from youth become more pronounced as one grows older.

Helping and advancing others, declining and yielding, gaining and losing, agreeing and refusing—these differ greatly from one another. How can anyone say they are exactly the same?

When there is a method for doing things, nothing is impossible to accomplish; when people are employed well, no one is unable to contribute. The spokes, each matched to its own mortise, show that officials each have their own duties. The centipede’s many legs, though numerous, do not hinder one another; this shows that each person can be put to good use. Stone is hard and angelica is fragrant: when people are appointed according to their abilities, the capable can exercise their intelligence and even the foolish can do their best. In the end, all can help bring things to completion.

When plants and trees bloom a second time, they often fail to bear fruit; when they bloom too early, they often wither before the frost arrives.

Smearing dirt on the nose and then beautifying the forehead is like treating the foot when the hand is ill: the remedy has nothing to do with the problem.

A rotten rat is left on the steps while incense is burned in the hall; someone afraid of getting wet jumps into the water; someone carrying something foul in their bosom still hopes to obtain fragrance. Even someone skilled at getting things done cannot make such efforts succeed. An old commentary says the rotten rat is a metaphor for treacherous, sycophantic people.

When someone has an illness in the nose but applies powder to the forehead, it is like treating a sick hand by tending to the foot. Such a practice makes no sense.

Put a rotting rat in the hall, and the smell of burning it will fill the whole house. Be in the water yet complain of getting wet; hide something foul in your bosom yet seek a fragrance. Even the most capable person could not make such a thing work.

An old commentary says that the rotting rat represents treacherous flatterers. A ruler who keeps such sycophants close yet hopes to govern the state well is like jumping into water while trying not to get soaked, or carrying something foul while seeking fragrance. Burning a rotting rat to fumigate the hall brings no small harm.

Ice can be broken in winter, and branches bent and tied in summer. Opportunity is hard to come by, yet easy to miss.

An old commentary says that time is precious and favorable opportunities are hard to encounter. A noble person should wait for the right moment and act in accordance with it, without letting a good opportunity slip away.

While trees are flourishing, they can be cut down all day and still grow again. But when autumn comes and wind and frost descend, they may wither in a single night.

An old commentary says this is a reminder not to miss the right moment when establishing one’s achievements.

When a target is set up, arrows come flying; when a forest grows dense, axes come chopping. No one deliberately summons this: it is simply what follows from the way circumstances unfold.

An old commentary says that trees do not ask to be cut down, yet cutting happens of itself. This is the result of circumstances.

A nursing puppy dares to bite a tiger, and a brooding hen dares to attack a wildcat. Moved by kindness received, they disregard their own strength.

An old commentary says that when one has received kindness from someone one cares for and who has raised one, one may unconsciously forget one’s own safety.

Those who chase profit to the edge of danger will surely put others in danger for the sake of profit. A boat can float on water, but it can also cause people to drown. Fools, however, do not know when to be content.

An old commentary says that a boat relies on water to float, yet it can also drown its passengers. People may gain a livelihood through profit, yet they may also be overwhelmed by it. Only by knowing when enough is enough and keeping one’s contentment within bounds might one escape the danger of drowning.

A fine horse will not move when driven, yet cannot be stopped when led. The ruler, meanwhile, does not know how to seek the principles of good government.

An old commentary says that the people are already utterly exhausted, yet the ruler’s exactions have no end. This is like driving a weary horse without pause and expecting it to travel far. According to the explanation in the Zanyi, opportunity is hard to come by and easy to lose, while the people are easily worn down and slow to recover. Plants that have grown again are ultimately less flourishing than when they first sprouted; flowers that bloom too early wither before the frost arrives. All this happens because they do not follow the seasons. When a target is raised, arrows come; when a forest grows dense, axes come: circumstances bring this about. A puppy bites a tiger and a hen attacks a wildcat because emotion drives them. A worn-out boat that continues to carry people will sink; a tired horse that is still driven will collapse. Can the people really bear further hardship?

However smooth the water’s surface, ripples will still appear. However straight the beam of a scale, it will inevitably have some bias; however regular the markings on a ruler, there will still be unevenness. Without a compass and a carpenter’s square, one cannot establish circles and squares; without a plumb line, one cannot correct what is crooked or straight. And even when using such tools, one must have the intention to follow their rules.

An old commentary says: Even when proper standards are set above, deviations from them still arise below. It is like ripples appearing on calm water, or an error in a scale affecting what it weighs. Likes and dislikes give rise to bias, and the traces of one’s actions may also bring disorder. The cause is not that the ruler has no laws or the subject has no rules, but that the human mind cannot always accord with the standards.

Mount Tai is lofty; even if its height were doubled, it might still escape notice. The fine hairs that grow anew on birds and beasts in autumn are exceedingly tiny, yet they can be seen.

An old commentary says: When one’s gaze is rightly directed, even something as tiny as a fine hair can be seen. When one’s course of action departs from the right path, even something as lofty as Mount Tai may go unnoticed.

Fire is hidden within bamboo and wood; unless one drills into the wood, the fire cannot be drawn out. Water is hidden in the earth; unless one digs, it will not spring forth.

An old commentary says: Fire is concealed in wood and water in the earth. Unless one drills or digs, they cannot be brought to light. The same principle applies to people: without learning, they will not understand.

However swiftly an arrow flies, it cannot travel more than two li. But if one keeps stepping forward, even a lame turtle can travel a thousand li. By continually piling up clods of earth, one can build a hill.

An old commentary says: For those who seek learning, what matters is not how quickly they learn at the outset, but whether they can persist in the Way they have learned. Persevere, and even a thousand li can be reached; keep accumulating, and even a hill can be formed.

Rather than standing by the river hoping to catch fish, it is better to go home and weave a net.

An old commentary says: Fish in a river can be caught with a net. In the same way, to attain the Dao, one must seek within one’s own heart.

First tune a bow, then expect it to be powerful; first train a horse, then expect it to perform well; first make a person trustworthy, then expect them to be capable.

An old commentary says: Understanding the proper order of these three things reveals the key to handling all kinds of affairs.

Even a highly skilled metalworker cannot melt wood, and even an excellent carpenter cannot carve ice. Things have limits that cannot be changed, and a person of noble character need not exhaust their mind over what cannot be done.

An old commentary says: Materials that cannot be worked cannot be made into the corresponding implements; even a fine craftsperson has no opportunity to apply their skill. Someone who cannot accept guidance cannot be made to change their conduct; even a sage cannot make them understand reason.

One can urge someone not to cross a river, but one cannot stop the river from making waves.

An old commentary says: A person’s actions may perhaps be restrained, but the river’s waves cannot be prevented.

The old commentary says that the waters of a river are bound to rise in waves, just as troubles are unavoidable in the world. It is easier to keep a person from encountering trouble than to make a river’s waters completely still.

If someone who had committed no offense were not condemned, there would be no occasion for a cooking vessel (zeng, an ancient utensil) to fall into a well. The old commentary explains that “offense” means “crime.” People do not always suffer blame without cause; if the vessel had not fallen into the well, it would not have been damaged for no reason. The Ming printed edition reads here, “No one is without fault.”

The surface of the water is bound to ripple, and even a straight balance beam is bound to tilt. Can the human mind afford to be careless? A gentleman’s propriety, righteousness, integrity, and sense of shame are like the carpenter’s compass, square, level, and ink line: standards for judging whether conduct is appropriate. A bow must first be properly adjusted before one seeks to make it powerful; a horse must first be tamed before one seeks to make it good. If a person does not first treat others with sincerity, how can they attract people of ability? Therefore, a gentleman does only what lies within his power and does not attempt what cannot be helped.

To criticize my conduct is to seek my company; to disparage my goods is to want to buy them. The old commentary says that this is an attempt to stir the other person’s feelings and reveal their true intentions.

A single move in chess cannot show a player’s skill; plucking a single string is not enough to be called sorrowful. The old commentary says that doing just one thing and barely understanding it does not amount to fully grasping the principle; when a string has only just been stretched, how can its sound be called exquisite?

A single piece of charcoal before you will burn your fingers if you pick it up. A heap of stones burning together will also fill the air with smoke, but ten paces away you will not be suffocated. This shows that things may belong to the same category, yet have different effects because they accumulate to different degrees. The Ming printed edition reads, “They share the same nature but differ in the degree of their accumulation.”

There are times of flourishing and splendor, and there must also be times of decline and withering. The old commentary says that flourishing and decay take turns, just as sorrow and joy are opposites.

When those above wear silk and satin, there will surely be people below who lack even coarse cloth. The old commentary says that when a ruler is arrogant and extravagant, neglecting the people’s clothing and food, the people will suffer from cold and hunger. How can a ruler fail to take heed of this?

For a tree to grow tall, its roots must spread deep and wide; for a mountain to rise high, its foundation must be firm. The old commentary says that the people are the ruler’s roots, and the low ground is the foundation of high places.

The Zanyu commentary explains: words that grate on the ear can benefit one’s virtue, and bitter medicine can help cure illness. Someone who criticizes my conduct may wish to befriend me; someone who disparages my goods may wish to buy them. The gentleman follows what is right, while the petty person pursues profit. One should not enjoy one’s blessings to excess, nor make one’s clothing and food extravagant. A tall tree needs deep and far-reaching roots; a high peak needs a solid foundation. When the people are prosperous, the state flourishes as well.

Laozi said, “A drum does not conceal sound, and so it can produce sound; a mirror does not hide the forms of things, and so it can reflect them.” An old commentary explains that because a drum does not conceal sound and a mirror does not hide forms, each can reveal what it holds.

Metal and stone instruments, such as bells and chimes, have sound within them, yet do not ring by themselves. Pipes and flutes can produce musical notes, but make no sound unless played. The old commentary says that metal and stone instruments, pipes and flutes alike, cannot produce sound on their own; someone must strike or blow them. In the same way, although people receive Dao and De, without learning they ultimately achieve nothing.

Thus, the sage cultivates the heart within and does not carelessly accommodate external things. When a matter comes before him, he deals with it according to its circumstances; when something appears, he responds appropriately. The old commentary says that the sage does not speak rashly or respond to matters without grounds.

The Way of Heaven moves without pause, completing its cycles again and again, and so it endures. A wheel turns continuously, returning to its starting point and then moving onward, and so it travels far. The old commentary says that the movement of Heaven’s Way is wondrous and unfathomable, turning without end.

The movement of Heaven’s Way is without error, and so it gives rise to no faults. When the qi of Heaven descends and the qi of Earth rises, Yin-Yang qi intermingle, allowing the myriad things to grow in harmony. The old commentary says that Heaven’s Way moves without error, and when a ruler likewise governs without fault, the qi of Heaven and Earth can flow freely and all things find their proper place. Ruler and ministers are in harmony, and those above and below are at peace.

The worthy are appointed and the petty are dismissed: this is the principle by which Heaven and Earth operate. The old commentary says that removing the wicked and appointing the worthy accords with the Way of Heaven and Earth.

If the qi of Heaven does not descend and the qi of Earth does not rise, Yin-Yang qi cannot flow freely, and the myriad things cannot flourish. When the petty gain power and the worthy withdraw, the grains cannot grow and De is buried. The old commentary says that the qi of Heaven and Earth do not intermingle and Yin-Yang does not flow because the ruler does not govern through De. The treacherous stand alongside the upright; the petty hold office while the worthy remain far from court. As a result, the myriad things cannot flourish and the grains cannot ripen.

The rule of Heaven’s Way is to diminish what is excessive and increase what is lacking. The rule of Earth’s Way is to lower what is high and raise what is low. The old commentary notes that the passage concerning the Ways of Heaven and Earth may be missing words; the surviving versions do not allow the gaps to be restored.

The way of spirits is to restrain those who are proud and self-satisfied, and to support those in lowly positions.

The way of Heaven is to reduce what is excessive and supplement what is insufficient. The way of Earth is to lower what is high and raise what is low.

The way of the spirits is to restrain the proud and self-satisfied, and support those who are humble and lowly.

In ordinary human affairs, people are unwilling to give anything to those who already have plenty.

The way of the sage is to willingly dwell below others; therefore, no one can rise above him.

The Zanyi says: Only when the mind holds no preconceived judgment can it respond to things; only when a drum contains no sound beforehand can it sound in response to a strike. If it sounded by itself, without anyone striking it, that would be a strange occurrence. Thus the sage’s mind does not issue commands in advance; it simply responds to things as they arise. When the Qi of Heaven and Earth interacts, the myriad things coexist in harmony. This describes the time when a wise ruler and worthy ministers meet, and the gentleman has the chance to put his abilities to use. When the situation is reversed, it is a time when petty people gain power. Only the sage can occupy a high position and still listen to those below him without becoming self-satisfied or arrogant. Because he does not place himself above the people, they respect him.

Only when the light of Heaven and the light of the sun are bright can they illuminate the four directions; only when the ruler and the ministers are wise can the state be secure. The world can endure only when it possesses these “four lights.” To make wisdom clear and put instruction into practice is to give effect to the wise.

The way of Heaven appears in patterns and splendor: the movements of the sun, moon, and stars.

The way of Earth appears in its order and contours: the arrangement of mountains, rivers, lakes, and seas.

The myriad things are harmonized by the One, which refers to the primordial Qi that flows freely and remains balanced.

The four seasons follow their course, and the myriad things grow as the seasons change, each keeping to its proper time without error.

Heaven and Earth bring the myriad things to completion through these principles; this is called the Dao. The Dao generates and nourishes the myriad things, yet does not regard itself as their master. For this reason, it is called the Dao.

The Great Dao is open and easy to follow, and it is not far from oneself. Cultivating oneself makes De real; caring for things beyond oneself allows De to continue.

The Old Commentary says: Cultivating oneself inwardly is called “genuineness”; nourishing the myriad things outwardly is called “De.”

Heaven covers the myriad things, bestowing its grace and nourishing them without claiming ownership. Thus, the spirits of the myriad things return to Heaven. To give without claiming ownership is called “Superior De” (the highest virtue). Among those who possess De, none surpasses Heaven; among the lowly, none is lower than the marsh. Heaven is high above, while the marsh lies below. The sage models this order, giving rank and status their proper places, and the world is thereby brought to peace.

An old commentary says: When the low and the high each occupy their place, the ranks of noble and base are established.

Earth bears the myriad things and enables them to grow, but it also takes them in. Thus, the bones of the myriad things ultimately return to Earth. To give and then take is called “Inferior De” (a lesser virtue). Inferior De does not lose its De, but it cannot be called De that takes nothing; hence it is said to be “without De.”

An old commentary says: “Taking nothing” means that Heaven gives life to the myriad things, caring for them without using up their substance. Their spirits therefore return to Heaven, and Heaven ultimately possesses De. “Taking” means that Earth gives life to the myriad things and brings them to maturity, but ultimately takes back their forms and substance. Their bones therefore return to Earth; this is called “without De.”

Earth receives Heaven and is therefore settled and still. When Earth is settled and still, the myriad things can take form. Earth is vast and deep, and the myriad things are plentiful: because it is settled, there is nothing it cannot bear; because it is vast and deep, there is nothing it cannot contain. Earth’s force is profound, and springs gather within it. Its expanse is square and broad, enabling it to endure. When the sage models Earth, his De can encompass the myriad things.

An old commentary says: Heaven and Earth take their places in relation to one another, and thus the expanse and depth of Heaven and Earth are formed. When ruler and minister trust one another, stability and harmony can be achieved. The Zanyu Yi says that the ruler represents the Way of Heaven and the minister the Way of Earth; Heaven is honored and Earth is lowly, and from this the roles of ruler and minister are established. When ruler and minister are both enlightened, their light shines in all directions. Is this not like the radiance of Yao’s De spreading throughout the world, so that the people all understood what was right? Thus, to model Heaven and take Earth as one’s guide in bringing the myriad things to completion is the Dao. To nourish and give without claiming ownership is Superior De; to take what has been given is to make De inferior.

When Yin Qi meets Yang Qi, the myriad things flourish; when Yang Qi lies dormant and Yin Qi prevails, the myriad things languish. When they flourish, there is nothing that cannot be nourished; when they languish, nothing can live at ease. When the myriad things live at ease, there is nothing in the world that cannot be governed well.

An old commentary says: Yin Qi harms the myriad things, and Yang Qi then withdraws of its own accord. When Yin Qi advances and flourishes while Yang Qi yields, petty people may gain power, while exemplary people withdraw to avoid harm. This too is a manifestation of the workings of Heaven. When Yang Qi is constrained by Yin Qi, the world is compliant and at peace. But if this is understood to mean that ministers overcome their ruler, it implies that petty people have taken the ruler’s place.

Yang Qi (the vital energy that promotes growth and warmth) drives the growth of all things, allowing them to develop gently and each find its proper place. Therefore, the sage follows the Way of Yang. Those who accord with all things will find that all things accord with them; those who go against all things will find that all things go against them. This is how one avoids violating the nature of all things.

When lakes and marshes are full, all things grow in their proper seasons; when they dry up, all things wither in their proper seasons. Thus, if rain does not fall, the world loses its Yang Qi. Yang Qi rises above, but then returns below. The sage does not hold a position forever, and so can complete one course and begin again. That is why the sage can endure. By enduring, the sage can become the root of all things under Heaven.

An old commentary says: The sage follows the Way of Heaven and preserves longevity through the Way of Wuwei (non-action). Those who violate the nature of all things cannot hold on to a high position, even if they occupy one.

Once Yang Qi has gathered, it can still be spread; once Yin Qi has accumulated, it can still be transformed. Nothing accumulates to its end without being able to begin again. That is why it can endure; by enduring, it can become the root of all things under Heaven.

An old commentary says: The sage follows the Way of Heaven and preserves longevity through the Way of Wuwei (non-action). Those who violate the nature of all things cannot hold on to a high position, even if they occupy one.

Once Yang Qi has gathered, it can still be spread; once Yin Qi has accumulated, it can still be transformed. Nothing can accumulate and complete its transformation without change. Therefore, the sage is careful with what they accumulate.

An old commentary says: Accumulating De (Virtue/Power) brings blessings and good fortune; accumulating evil leads to ruin.

When Yang Qi prevails over Yin Qi, all things flourish; when Yin Qi prevails over Yang Qi, all things decline. Therefore, when rulers and nobles esteem the Way of Yang, all things prosper; when they esteem the Way of Yin, the world falls into ruin.

An old commentary says: Yang represents what is upright and life-giving, so all things grow lush; lushness is prosperity. Yin represents what is deviant and death-bearing, so all things decline; decline is ruin.

When Yang Qi does not descend to join with Yin Qi, all things cannot mature. When a ruler does not treat ministers with humility, the transformation wrought by De cannot be carried out. Therefore, when a ruler is humble toward ministers, their hearing and vision become clear; when they are not, they become benighted and ignorant.

An old commentary says: A ruler cannot be humble toward ministers without being supremely wise, and ministers cannot assist a ruler without being supremely worthy. Shun treated Bocheng Zigao with respect, and King Wen of Zhou took Shangfu (Jiang Taigong) as his teacher; both can be called perceptive and wise.

The Zanyi says: Yang governs life, while Yin governs killing. Thus, noble people delight in helping all things grow, while petty people delight in killing and warfare. When rulers and nobles esteem the Way of Yang, all things prosper; when they esteem the Way of Yin, the world falls into ruin. Yang Qi is esteemed when it occupies the lower position. Thus, when a ruler is humble toward ministers, the ruler becomes perceptive and wise, and the state is secure. When a ruler is not humble toward ministers, the ruler becomes benighted and ignorant, and the transformation wrought by De cannot be carried out.

When the sun rises above the earth, all things flourish and grow; when Yin Qi brings decline, all things wither. Thus, the exemplary person delights in nurturing life, while the petty person delights in killing and conquest. When princes and nobles follow the Yang Dao, all things prosper; when they revere the Yin Dao, the world declines. Yang Qi is valued for dwelling below, while Yin Qi is above. If a ruler can humble himself before his ministers, he will hear and see clearly, and the state will be well governed. If he refuses to humble himself, he will become dull and cut off from what is happening, and his moral influence will not be able to take effect.

When the sun rises, all things flourish and grow. Princes and nobles stand above the people and should therefore make their virtue shine. When the sun sinks beneath the earth, all things rest. If petty people stand above the people, all things will hide and flee.

An old commentary says: If Yang Qi does not dwell beneath Yin Qi, all things cannot flourish. If a ruler does not humble himself before his ministers, all things will hide and not emerge.

Thunder stirs, and all things sprout; rain moistens them, and all things unfold. Great people who issue orders should act in the same way. Yin and Yang each move according to their own fixed rhythms, and great people should not press all things too hard.

An old commentary says: The authority of great people should be like spring thunder, and their orders should be like a warm spring breeze. Then their words and Qi will be harmonious, and all things will not be pressed too hard.

Thunder shakes the earth, and all things grow at ease; wind sways the trees, and the plants and trees spread out. When great people rid themselves of evil conduct and draw near to what is good, the people will not leave and migrate elsewhere. The people, too, will have things to abandon and things to pursue: they will abandon the gravest faults and turn toward conduct that is only somewhat flawed.

An old commentary says: When great people act virtuously, the people flock to them. Even when the Great King Tai moved away from Bin, how could the people have left him?

Without wind, fire will not catch. If great people do not speak, petty people have nothing to repeat. Once a flame catches, it must have fuel; when great people speak, they must keep their word. When speech is trustworthy and true, what undertaking cannot succeed?

An old commentary says: Once fire catches, the fuel passes the flame onward; once words are spoken, trust is put into practice. Therefore, when great people speak, they put their words into action, and their trustworthiness is as reliable as the turning of the four seasons.

In the deep reaches of a river, earth can build up into hills; water on high ground flows down into the abyss. When Yang Qi is strong, it transforms into Yin Qi; when Yin Qi is strong, it transforms into Yang Qi. So desire must not be allowed to reach fullness, nor pleasure to become extreme.

An old commentary says: The Way of Heaven restrains what is high and raises what is low. Only by restraining desire, preserving balance, and following the principles of Heaven can one avoid going to extremes.

Not speaking hurtful words when angry, and not showing anger on one’s face when enraged—this is called knowing how to weigh gain and loss.

An old commentary says: Even if anger in the heart has not yet subsided, as long as harsh words and an angry expression do not show outwardly, the heart is following reason and using the Dao to restrain itself.

Fire rises, while water flows downward. The way of the sage is to infer principles from the kinds of things and the qualities that correspond to them. Draw close to what is yang, strong, and upright, and all under Heaven will live in harmony; draw close to what is dark and crooked, and all under Heaven will sink into ruin. An old commentary says: “Draw close to loyal and worthy people, and all under Heaven will be at peace; draw close to treacherous flatterers, and all under Heaven will sink into chaos.”

The Zanyu says: When the sun rises in the sky, the lords and nobles stand above the people, and all things flourish and grow. When the sun sinks below the earth, petty people take the highest places, and all things flee and hide. Yin and Yang follow their own fixed cycles, so the seasons do not fall into disorder. When those in high positions do not go too far in their actions, the people do not leave and migrate elsewhere. When things reach an extreme, they change; desire, too, cannot expand without limit. The movement of Yin and Yang belongs to the Way of Heaven, while peace and disorder throughout the world depend on human actions.

Laozi says: By accumulating what is slight, one can become substantial; by rising from what is low, one can reach the heights. Each day, the noble person works diligently without slackening, gradually increasing in brightness. Each day, the petty person seeks only immediate pleasure, and in the end comes to shame.

An old commentary says: The noble person diligently cultivates the self and follows the Dao, so virtue grows brighter day by day. The petty person seizes every opportunity to indulge, and in the end falls into hardship and disgrace.

Even before the waxing and waning of things has become apparent, one should pay attention to it. So when you see good conduct, strive to follow it as if you cannot catch up; when you encounter what is bad, be as wary as if you had seen an ill omen. If your heart is set on goodness, then even when you make a mistake, you need not resent others. But if you refuse to turn toward goodness, even a sincere admonition will bring you bad consequences.

Rather than resent others, examine yourself; rather than force something from others, look for the cause within yourself. Sound comes from what you utter; things of the same kind respond to one another; reputation is brought about by your own conduct, and a person’s circumstances are connected to their own actions. Nothing can be blamed entirely on someone else. If you stab another with a sharp object or attack them with a blade, what reason have you to resent them? Therefore, the noble person is careful with matters at their very beginning, however slight.

Act with care in the smallest matters; what matters is not how great or small they are. If you set your heart on goodness, blessings will neither come nor go because of other people. They depend on your own efforts to seek goodness. If you refuse to do good, misfortune will befall you—whom could you blame? Failing to do good is like cutting yourself with a blade or burning yourself by going near a fire. Whom could you blame for that?

All things turn their backs to Yin and face Yang. As the Qi of Yin and Yang blend, they form harmonious Qi. This harmony lies at the center: the fruit of a tree forms at the heart of its flower, the seeds of plants develop inside their pods, and life that hatches from eggs or grows in the womb is nurtured within. Things that neither lay eggs nor bear young must await the right time to come into being. An old commentary explains that all things, though different in kind, take shape through the Qi of harmony and balance. Things that arise through transformation rather than gestation or hatching must wait for the proper time.

When the ground is level, water does not rush along; when weight is balanced, the scale does not tip.

The changes through which all things come into being arise in response to something; they do not happen without cause. An old commentary explains that Yin and Yang respond to one another and form harmony, allowing all things to grow. When ruler and ministers are in accord and follow the middle way, the people can live in peace.

Thus, the noble person brings their intentions into harmony and works diligently each day, making their own De shine brightly. The petty person disrupts the harmony they were endowed with and gives free rein to impatience each day, eventually bringing shame upon themselves. The noble person is careful even in the smallest matters, sets their heart aright, and seeks to improve themselves. They do not resent others, and so others will not resent them.

Laozi said: “Where mountains rise high, clouds and rain gather; where water runs deep, dragons grow. When a noble person cultivates De to a certain depth, its blessings spread far.” Those who cultivate De in secret will surely receive an open reward; those who do good in secret will surely leave a notable reputation. An old commentary says that a mountain rich in vital energy will bring down clouds and rain, and a person of lofty De will surely extend blessings. There is no such thing as receiving recompense later without having first done good.

Those who sow millet will not reap sorghum; those who sow resentment will not be repaid with De. An old commentary says that reaping sorghum after sowing millet, or repaying resentment with De, are things that do not happen.

An old commentary says: “To sow millet but reap panicled millet, and to repay kindness with resentment—such things have never happened.”

The Zanyi explains: “To do good without others knowing is the deepest goodness; to do evil without others knowing is the deepest evil. Clouds gather in the mountains and become rain and dew; lakes and marshes store up flowing water and thereby give rise to dragons. When a gentleman embodies Dao and De, his beneficence spreads throughout the world. Those who do good in secret will surely receive blessings that become manifest: this is Heaven’s protection. Those who cultivate themselves in obscurity will surely gain a reputation that becomes widely known: this is the esteem of the people. Only one endowed with the De of Heaven truly understands this.”

Chapter on Subtle Illumination

An old commentary says: “To discern form within the formless and hear sound within the soundless is why this is called ‘Subtle Illumination’: it means discerning what is minute.”

Laozi says: “Dao may be yielding or firm, gentle or hard; it may abide in Yin or appear as Yang, remain hidden or become manifest. It can encompass Heaven and Earth and respond to changes without fixed limits. Those with a shallow understanding of Dao think they have already understood it. Those who understand it deeply know there is still more they have not grasped. Knowing external things does not necessarily mean understanding their inner source; understanding superficial principles does not necessarily mean reaching what is subtle. Only those who truly know understand that they still do not know everything. To recognize what one does not know is to understand truly. Who can see that what is called ‘form’ also has a formless aspect?

“So, when everyone in the world agrees that goodness is good, what is not good appears alongside it. Those who truly understand say little; those who say much often do not truly understand.”

The Zanyi says: “‘Subtle Illumination’ refers to Dao. Understanding Dao does not depend on seeing with the eyes or hearing with the ears. One apprehends it through one’s innate nature, then lets it become clear within the heart; in this way, one can encompass Heaven and Earth and respond to myriad changes. Dao cannot be seized through clever schemes or force. One can apprehend it only by understanding that some things cannot be known by force, some need not be done by force, and some need not be spoken.

“Wenzi asked, ‘Can Dao be expressed in subtle words?’ Laozi replied, ‘Why not? One need only understand how to speak. Those who truly know how to speak do not confine Dao to words. People who fish by driving fish together get wet; people who pursue game run at a swift pace. They do not do these things for the pleasure of doing them, but to achieve their aim. Thus, the highest speech is not bound by words, and the highest action is not bound by artifice. Those with shallow understanding argue over details. Words have a root, and actions have a guiding principle. It is because people do not understand Dao that they fail to understand me.’”

The Great Dao has no fixed form, yet it can serve as the standard that all things follow. For example, mountains and forests can provide timber, but timber is not equal to mountains and forests. Mountains and forests are in turn surpassed by clouds and rain; clouds and rain are surpassed by Yin-Yang; Yin-Yang is surpassed by harmony; and harmony is surpassed by the Dao. The Dao has no fixed form, yet it contains every form. It has no concrete image, yet it can manifest the shapes of all things. As long as one does not cling to outward traces, everything between Heaven and Earth can be shaped and transformed. Such is the wondrous working of the Dao.

Laozi said: When sages establish teachings and administer policies, they must examine how matters change from beginning to end and understand the principles by which kindness and benefit are bestowed. Thus, when the people know only to rely on written records, their Virtue declines; when they know only to calculate, their benevolence declines; when they know only to depend on contracts and credentials, their trustworthiness declines; and when they know only to use ingenious devices, the simple and steadfast way declines.

A se (a stringed instrument) need not be plucked directly by someone: its twenty-five strings can each sound in its own way and answer one another. A cart axle need not be pushed by hand: its thirty spokes can each exert their strength and set the wheel turning. The strings must be both taut and slack for music to arise; the wheel must alternate between effort and rest for the cart to travel far. What gives rise to sound is precisely what is silent; what makes the wheel turn is precisely the axle that does not turn.

When those above and below each follow their proper way, governance is easy; once the order changes, society falls into disorder. Those of high rank and broad understanding bear great responsibilities; those whose understanding is shallow and whose tasks are small are in danger. Minor virtues can harm great principles, partial acts of goodness can obstruct the Great Dao, and petty disputes can undermine good governance. Harshness and severity damage Virtue; when people are guided with fairness and integrity, without rigidity, they are easy to lead. When governance reaches its highest point, it is generous and at ease, and those below do not harm one another. When loyalty reaches its highest point, people return to simplicity, and the people no longer deceive or conceal.

The Zhuanyi explains: Sages establish teachings and administer policies because they have no choice; the key is to examine matters from beginning to end, follow what is natural, and refrain from arbitrary action. If one relies excessively on writing, calculation, contracts, and ingenious devices, one is deliberately manipulating affairs, and Virtue, benevolence, trustworthiness, and substance will decline. A ruler governs the state with the help of ministers, just as a se makes music with the help of its strings and a cart travels far with the help of its spokes. Grasp the essentials and make good use of the strength of the whole, and there will be no situation in the world that cannot be governed.

Laozi says: “If the law of collective responsibility is enforced at once, the people will grow resentful; if an order is issued to strip nobles of their ranks, meritorious officials will turn against the ruler. Thus, those who know only documents and statutes do not understand the roots of good government and disorder; those who know only how to deploy troops in battle do not understand the principles of planning and decision-making at court. The sage can foresee fortune and misfortune from within the guarded chambers of the palace, and take precautions before calamity appears. The foolish are dazzled by small gains before them and forget the greater harm that lies ahead. So some things seem beneficial in the short term but bring harm in the long run; in gaining one side, people forget the other. Nothing in benevolence is greater than caring for the people, and nothing in wisdom is more important than understanding the human heart. If you care for the people, you will not invite resentment and punishment; if you understand the human heart, government is less likely to fall into disorder.”

The Zuan Yi explains: “A state cannot be governed with a profusion of policies, and its laws must not be changed too often. When policies are numerous and change without constancy, the people grow resentful and meritorious officials turn against the ruler. These outcomes are all brought on by the ruler himself. The sage sees the roots of good government and disorder, and the keys to decision-making at court, in signs that have not yet appeared; this is why the sage possesses foresight.”

Laozi says: “Even when rivers overflow in flood, it does not last more than three days. The sun may be hidden by violent wind and rain, but after a short while they pass. Those who fail to build up De (Virtue/Power) yet feel no concern about it will eventually meet with calamity. Worry can bring people to prosperity, while pleasure and ease may lead to their downfall. Thus, those skilled in navigating the world can turn weakness into strength and misfortune into good fortune. The Dao (the Way) seems empty, yet in use it is never exhausted or filled to the brim.”

The Zuan Yi explains: “Harsh policies running rampant in a state are like overflowing rivers and violent storms: they cannot last. If one worries about one’s own lack of De and knows how to adapt to the times, one may still turn misfortune into good fortune and weakness into strength. Therefore, one must never become complacent.”

Laozi said: Clarity and stillness, tranquility and calm, are part of human nature; outward bearing and proper conduct are the standards for handling affairs. Understand human nature, and you can cultivate yourself without going against it. Understand the standards for action, and you will act without confusion. A single order can put an end to contention among the people. Gathering all things into one mind is called “mind.” Seeing the root and inferring its branches, grasping principles to respond to countless changes, is called “method.” In stillness, knowing what grounds action; in action, knowing where to go; in carrying out affairs, knowing what one depends on; and in acting, knowing when to stop—this is called the Dao (the Way).

Getting others to praise you and consider you wise is an effect of the mind; causing them to despise and slander you is the mind’s fault. Once words leave the mouth, you cannot prevent others from hearing them. Actions begin nearby, yet you cannot prevent their effects from reaching far away. Affairs are hard to bring to success but easy to ruin; a reputation is hard to establish but easy to damage. Ordinary people slight small harms and overlook minute details, with the result that great calamities take shape. People bring calamity upon themselves, and they also bring about their own good fortune. Calamity and good fortune often arise from the same source, while benefit and harm often accompany each other. Unless someone is exceptionally perceptive, it is difficult to discern how they change. Thus, planning and reflection are the gateway through which calamity and good fortune arise, while action and stillness are the pivot on which benefit and harm turn. One must examine these matters with care.

The Commentary on the Inherited Meaning explains: Heavenly principle and selfish desire both arise from the same mind; the gentleman and the petty person, too, are formed by individual choices. They may have the same source, yet bear different names and lead to different outcomes. Grasping one principle to respond to countless changes is called “method”; observing action and knowing when to stop is called “Dao.” Words come from the mouth, and actions arise from the heart. Calamity and good fortune, benefit and harm, follow like shadows and echoes. Unless someone is exceptionally perceptive, who could distinguish them clearly? How, then, could one fail to reflect on oneself and carefully restrain one’s own mind?

Laozi says that people all know the keys to governing the world and responding to disorder, yet few understand how to preserve life. The sage observes the conditions of the age and decides what should be done, then weighs and plans in light of how events unfold. The sage can employ both Yin-Yang softness and firmness, showing weakness as well as exercising strength. Action or stillness is chosen in step with the times, and achievements are built on the conditions at hand. Seeing things move forward, the sage can anticipate how they may turn; facing the same matter, the sage can also discern the changes within it. Whatever signs things display, the sage responds accordingly to the circumstances. Thus, throughout life, the sage acts without falling into difficulty.

Some things can be spoken of but are unsuitable to put into practice; some are suitable to put into practice but not to speak of openly. Some are easy to begin but difficult to bring to completion; others seem difficult to complete but are easy to fail at. What is suitable to do but not to speak of openly is the weighing of choices and trade-offs. What can be spoken of but not carried out is hypocrisy and deceit. What is easy to begin but difficult to complete is practical work. What is difficult to complete but easy to fail at is reputation. These four situations are ones to which the sage pays particular attention, and which only the discerning can recognize.

The Zanyi explains that ages may be well governed or disordered, and that political success or failure depends on people. If one knows the keys to order and disorder but does not understand how to preserve life, the problem lies with the person, not with the times. The sage adapts to the times and observes change, acting throughout life without falling into difficulty. Those in power live in their own time; how can they be lax and fail to understand how to preserve life?

Laozi says that the Dao (the fundamental principle governing the workings of all things) requires people to attend to what is subtle and not to miss the right moment for action. “A hundred shots, a hundred cautions” is a specialized expression in the original, meaning that repeated actions call for particular vigilance. To miss the right moment is the person’s fault, not the times’. The sage adapts to the times and observes change, acting throughout life without falling into difficulty. Those in power live in their own time; how can they be lax and fail to understand how to preserve life?

Laozi says: Those who follow the Dao (the Way) attend to what is subtle and act in keeping with the right time. If they take care while a matter is still in its early stages, they can prevent trouble from growing. They warn themselves again and again, without thinking a hundred reminders too many, and trouble is less likely to take root. Rather than calculating what good fortune they might gain, they should think more about possible trouble, which often arrives more quickly. On the same day, some are harmed by frost while others escape unharmed. Even a foolish person, if prepared in advance, can achieve the same results as a clever one.

Accumulating affection brings good fortune; accumulating resentment invites disaster. Everyone knows that when trouble strikes, one should try to remedy it, but few understand that it is better to prevent trouble from arising in the first place. Preventing trouble beforehand is far easier than repairing the damage afterward. People today make no effort to prevent trouble before it begins; they only busy themselves repairing what has already happened. Even a divine person would find it hard to devise a plan for them.

The causes of trouble change in countless ways and follow no fixed pattern. Sages keep to themselves and avoid going out, steering clear of trouble; they wait quietly for the right moment. Small-minded people do not understand the turning points between good fortune and disaster. They act rashly and fall into punishment. Even if they guard against danger at every turn, that is not enough to protect them. Thus, those who are truly capable first avoid trouble, then seek advantage; they first distance themselves from disgrace, then pursue a good reputation. Sages address matters before they become apparent, rather than focusing only on results already achieved. In this way, trouble has no opening to arrive, and neither praise nor blame can cling to them.

The Commentary on the Extended Meaning explains: “‘Those who follow the Dao attend to what is subtle and act in keeping with the right time’ means taking care at the outset of a matter. If a foolish person makes preparations, they can achieve the same results as a wise person. If someone cannot remove the seeds of trouble before it arises and only seeks a remedy afterward, even a divine person will find it hard to devise a plan for them. Therefore, those who are truly capable put avoiding trouble and distancing themselves from disgrace first. They place reputation and gain afterward, and do not pursue them by force. In that case, how could trouble arrive? How could praise or blame cling to them like dust?”

Laozi says that in conducting oneself and dealing with the world, one’s thoughts should be careful and cautious, one’s aspirations far-reaching; one’s wisdom should be rounded and adaptable, one’s conduct upright; one’s abilities comprehensive, and the tasks one undertakes few.

“Small in mind” means thinking ahead to dangers before they arise, carefully guarding against even the slightest risks, and not indulging one’s desires. “Great in aspiration” means having a broad heart, able to embrace all states and people of different customs. Diverse opinions converge, and one brings them together from the center, like the spokes of a wheel meeting at its hub.

“Rounded in wisdom” means thinking things through, remaining flexible and clear-sighted from beginning to end, exerting far-reaching influence, and never exhausting one’s reflection. “Square in conduct” means standing upright and remaining steadfast, pure and untainted. In hardship, one does not abandon one’s principles; in success and prominence, one does not give free rein to one’s ambitions. “Many in ability” means possessing the skills of both civil governance and military affairs, acting and resting in accordance with proper standards, and responding suitably to every circumstance, whether undertaking a task or bringing it to a close. “Few in affairs” means handling many matters by grasping their essentials, governing complex situations by identifying their key points, and mastering agitation through calm and composure.

Thus, those who are careful in thought can guard against dangers while they are still slight; those whose aspirations are great have hearts that embrace all things; those whose wisdom is rounded understand every kind of principle; those whose conduct is upright firmly refuse to do certain things; those with comprehensive abilities can manage all kinds of affairs; and those who keep their affairs few hold fast to principles that are simple.

Therefore, when sages do good, they do not neglect it because the matter is small; when they notice a fault, they correct it even if it is slight. They do not rely on shamans—people who communicate with spirits through divination, prayers for blessings, and similar practices—and the spirits dare not intervene ahead of them. This may be called attaining the highest level of self-cultivation. Yet they remain constantly cautious, growing more careful with each passing day. This is precisely how they hold fast, with single-minded sincerity, to the Dao of Wuwei (non-action).

The ignorant have limited wisdom, yet take on many tasks, and so often find themselves in difficulty when they act. To teach through the right way and follow the natural course makes success easy; to teach through a crooked way inevitably leads to hardship and eventual failure. Abandoning the right way, where success comes easily, and instead pursuing what is difficult and bound to fail is the result of ignorance and delusion.

Set your aspirations high, be cautious within; make your judgment thorough, keep your conduct upright; cultivate broad abilities, and keep your undertakings few. These six qualities are ones everyone should strive to attain. High aspirations enable you to embrace all kinds of things; inner caution makes you alert to the faintest signs; thorough judgment lets you handle affairs with understanding; upright conduct makes you honest and unyielding; broad abilities help you accomplish things well; and a few undertakings bring restraint and steadfastness. The sage acts without relying on shamans—people who conduct sacrifices, divination, and other rites—and even ghosts and spirits dare not bring calamity ahead of time. It is enough to let sincerity run through everything.

Laozi said: Good fortune often gathers and grows gradually, while calamity tends to arise amid confusion and entanglement. The signs of fortune and misfortune are subtle and hard to detect. The sage can see both their beginnings and their ends, and so must observe them carefully. A wise ruler gives rewards and punishments for the sake of the state, not for personal gain. An act that benefits only the ruler and brings no merit to the state is not rewarded; an act that runs counter to the ruler’s wishes but benefits the state is not punished. One who follows what is right and acts appropriately is called a gentleman; one who abandons what is right and acts inappropriately is called a petty person. The best governance lets the people prosper without having to toil. Next best is when they work without becoming exhausted or ill. The worst is when the people are already exhausted and ill, yet are made to work still harder.

The ancients, once they had tasted something, would not readily put it aside; people today often put things aside without savoring them carefully. When King Zhou of Shang began using ivory chopsticks, Jizi, a worthy minister of Shang, wept. When the state of Lu used wooden figures as burial companions, Confucius sighed. From the beginnings of things, one can foresee how they will ultimately unfold.

The Zanyi says: Once the turning point between calamity and good fortune becomes visible, there are often signs that appeared long before. How could one fail to examine them carefully? Rewards and punishments are important powers held by the ruler; they should be administered with the state in mind, not for personal gain. The difference between a gentleman and a petty person lies in whether one upholds what is right or seeks only private advantage. In governing a state, the highest achievement is to bring the people security without making them toil; the next is for them to work without becoming exhausted or ill; the lowest is to make them work still harder after they have already grown exhausted and ill. Jizi wept at the sight of ivory chopsticks, and Confucius sighed at the sight of wooden burial figures. This shows that, from early signs, they could see what would eventually become of the state: before events had run their course, they could already foresee its downfall.

Laozi says: Benevolence is what people admire, and righteousness is what they honor. Yet those who are admired and honored may still lose their lives and see their states destroyed. This is because they do not know how to adapt to the times. Those who understand benevolence and righteousness but not the need for change have not yet grasped the Great Dao.

The Five Emperors governed through De, the Three Kings through righteousness, and the Five Hegemons through force. To apply the ways of governance from the age of the emperors in the age of the hegemons is to act out of step with the times. Thus judgments of good and evil, right and wrong, shift with prevailing customs; what people pursue and what they avoid also vary from age to age. Only those who understand the workings of Heaven’s Way and the changes in human affairs can govern the world. Those who know Heaven’s Way but not human nature cannot engage with society; those who know human affairs but not Heaven’s Way cannot accord with the Great Dao. If one acts only from a straightforward will and indulges one’s desires, one’s forceful Qi will injure oneself. If one drives oneself to pursue external things, the Yin-Yang energies will also deplete body and mind.

The Zanyi says: “I know why the Great Dao cannot be put into practice: the times have changed. The Five Emperors valued governance through De, the Three Kings practiced governance through righteousness, and the Five Hegemons prevailed through force. To put the way of governance from the emperors’ age into practice in the age of the hegemons is to fail to adapt to the times. To fail to understand the times is to fail to understand Heaven’s Way and human nature. How, then, could one govern the world?”

Those who have attained the Dao can adapt outwardly to changes in the world while remaining unchanged within. They adapt outwardly in order to understand human nature, and remain unchanged within in order to preserve themselves. They hold to a firm inner integrity, yet bend and extend outwardly, acting in response to changing circumstances. Whatever they do, they do not become trapped. What is precious about the Great Dao is its capacity to change like a dragon. Even if one has perfectly upheld a single principle and practiced a single way, one should not be confined by narrow preferences and thereby block the path to the Great Dao.

The Great Dao is still and empty. It does not control external things through deliberate action, nor does it impose action according to private wishes. When things proceed in accord with the Great Dao, this is not because those who have attained the Dao deliberately control them; it is the Great Dao acting naturally.

The Zanyi says: “To change with circumstances like a dragon or tiger is the mark of a great person. Those who have attained the Dao act in response to the changes of the myriad things without becoming trapped. That is why Laozi was called ‘like a dragon.’ Those who comprehend the Great Dao are inwardly empty, still, and clear. Outwardly, they do not cling to the myriad things; inwardly, they do not cling to themselves. The Great Dao extends everywhere, and the world is thereby transformed and nourished naturally.”

Heaven covers and Earth bears all things; the sun and moon shine in every direction; Yin-Yang nourishes all things; rain and dew moisten them; and Dao and De support them. Harmony is the foundation of all these functions. Thus, only those who can stand with Heaven above and Earth beneath, contemplate the clear and luminous Great Dao, and establish themselves in an age of peace and in a realm of spaciousness can bring stability to the world. Those who can perceive what lies in the deep and distant can shine with the same radiance as the sun and moon. The formless Dao, too, appears through the myriad things that have form.

Therefore, the realized person entrusts his mind and spirit to the Numinous Terrace, the dwelling place of the mind and spirit, and returns to the original state of the myriad things. He observes what is subtle and hard to see, and listens in silence. In what is mysterious, distant, and still, only he can understand; in stillness, only he can discern. The key to putting the Dao into practice is not to insist on using it; by refraining from deliberate use, one can truly put it into practice. The key to knowing the Dao is not to assume that one already knows it; by not relying on one’s own knowledge, one can truly know it.

The Zanyu commentary explains: “‘Harmony’ is the Dao that prevails throughout the world. Heaven’s covering and Earth’s bearing ultimately depend on harmony. A ruler stands with Heaven above and Earth below, and establishes peace from the court through harmony. How, then, could harmony be abandoned? The realized person returns to the original state of the myriad things and must be able to grasp what is subtle and hard to see on his own. Only when practice contains no deliberate effort can it be true practice; only when knowing does not presume to know can it be true knowledge. This is what is called Great Harmony.”

Dao is the foundation along which the myriad things proceed; De is the power that supports the growth of life; benevolence is the expression of accumulated kindness; and righteousness is the standard that accords with one’s heart and brings one into accord with others. Only after Dao declined did De arise; only after De declined did benevolence and righteousness appear. Thus, people of antiquity valued Dao without making a special point of De. Those of the middle age upheld De but did not keep it constantly in mind. Later generations, by contrast, guarded benevolence and righteousness at every turn, afraid of losing them.

Thus, a noble person cannot establish himself without righteousness; to lose righteousness is to lose the very foundation on which he lives. A petty person cannot survive without gain; to lose gain is to lose what sustains his life. The noble person fears losing righteousness, while the petty person fears losing gain. What each fears losing determines the different blessings or calamities that follow.

After the Dao, De, benevolence, and righteousness gradually became distinct, the eras of the Sovereigns, Emperors, Kings, and Hegemons were likewise distinguished. This was brought about by changes in the condition of the age. The Dao guides people; De nourishes them; benevolence treats them with kindness; righteousness weighs whether things are appropriate. The forms of governance in the four eras were certainly different, but in each, the distinctions between ruler and minister remained the same. To speak only of the Dao and not of De was the governance of the Sovereigns. To speak of De without winning people’s allegiance was the governance of the Emperors. To fear losing benevolence and righteousness was the governance of the Kings. When righteousness loses its proper measure, clever schemes and deceit arise.

Laozi said: Some things are intended to bring benefit but end up causing harm; others are intended to cause harm but end up bringing benefit. A person suffering from dampness who forces himself to eat, and a feverish, thirsty person who forces himself to drink cold water, are both doing what ordinary people consider beneficial. Yet these are precisely the things a good physician would judge likely to worsen the illness. Fools consider things pleasing to the eye and delightful to the heart beneficial, while those who follow the Dao avoid them. The sage often first goes against the crowd and only later comes into accord with them; the crowd, by contrast, first comes into accord and only later goes against him. Thus fortune and misfortune depend on one another, and benefit and harm turn into their opposites. These principles must be examined with care.

Zanyì explains: Sometimes something that appears beneficial ends up harmful, while something that appears harmful ends up beneficial. This is not something people can guarantee by their own power; it often results from changes inherent in things themselves. Thus, first going against the crowd and only later coming into accord with it is the way the sage acts; first coming into accord with the crowd and only later going against it is the way ordinary people act. Fortune and misfortune depend on one another, and benefit and harm can also transform into each other. These principles truly must be examined.

Laozi said: Someone who performs meritorious deeds but departs from benevolence and righteousness will still be suspected; someone who has erred but acts in accordance with benevolence and righteousness will instead surely be trusted. Benevolence and righteousness are therefore the constant principles one should follow in dealing with affairs, and the most honored qualities under Heaven. Even if one plans thoroughly and devises sound strategies, can dispel troubles and make plans for the state, so long as one acts contrary to benevolence and righteousness, one’s achievements will ultimately come to nothing. Conversely, even if one’s words displease the ruler and one’s strategies do not benefit the state, as long as one is inwardly loyal to the ruler and acts in accordance with benevolence and righteousness, one will surely preserve oneself. Thus, however many arguments one may make and whatever strategies one may devise, even if they are often ill suited to the times, it is better to set aside the pursuit of strategies and carefully examine benevolence and righteousness.

Are benevolence and righteousness like grandchildren of the Dao and children of De? Benevolence, righteousness, Dao, and De may seem unrelated, but in truth they have never been separate. Benevolence and righteousness are therefore the most honored virtues under Heaven. If someone values himself above all under Heaven, how could he fail to set aside thoughts of private gain and examine benevolence and righteousness seriously?

Laozi says: “Cultivation begins with the noble, and even the humble benefit from it. Gain arises among the humble, and the noble can enjoy its fruits. When noble and humble each find their place, they contribute to one another and work in their respective roles, and the Dao can prevail. Too many desires harm the way of righteousness; too many worries hinder wisdom. Thus, in a well-governed state, people are glad to uphold it; in a badly governed state, they are glad to see it perish. Water flows to low places, and so gathers into broad rivers and seas. A ruler who humbly attends to others can hear their counsel and become wise. When the ruler does not compete with his ministers for credit, the way of governance can flourish. The ruler is like the root of a tree, and the ministers like its branches and leaves. If the root is not strong, the branches and leaves cannot thrive.”

Zanyu says: “Noble and humble are all equally human. If the noble carry out instruction but do not let the humble benefit from it, what kindness could they offer to nourish the humble? In a well-governed state, people are glad to uphold it; in a badly governed state, they are glad to see it perish. When the ruler is skilled at humbling himself and does not compete with his ministers for credit, the ministers will be loyal. A firm foundation makes the state secure.”

Laozi says: “A loving father cares for his children not to obtain a return, but because this is natural to his heart. A wise ruler nurtures the people not to use them for his own purposes, but because this is his nature. Those who rely on their own strength or invoke their achievements to demand repayment often end up in difficulty. Once kindness is given with an ulterior motive, it can no longer truly reach others. Thus, by meeting people’s needs and helping them prosper, one gains their strength; by carrying out what they value, one wins their hearts. See where things begin, and you can know where they are headed.”

Zanyu says: “The feelings between father and son arise from nature. If a father loves his son or a ruler nurtures the people while expecting repayment, the kindness loses its true meaning. Thus, by advancing people’s interests and helping them prosper, one gains their strength; by encouraging their good conduct and helping them cultivate goodness, one wins their hearts. How then could children fail to be filial, or ministers fail to be loyal?”

Laozi says: “People draw close through righteousness, and a group grows strong through unity. Therefore, when De is extended widely, authority can reach far; when the reach of righteousness is limited, the scope within which force can exercise control is limited as well.”

Zan Yi says: A ruler should keep the whole world in mind. When people treat one another according to moral principle and care for one another, loyalty and filial devotion will flourish. When they form factions, gather followers, and use the power of the group to throw their weight around, deceitful and overbearing people will take advantage of the moment. The security of the state depends on these matters. How could one fail to examine them carefully and distinguish right from wrong?

Laozi says: If you obtain wealth by improper means and refuse to give any of it away, calamity will eventually befall you. Such a person can neither help others nor make proper arrangements for himself. He is foolish, no different from an owl—for legend has it that owls harm their own young.

It is better to stop in time than to heap things up until they overflow. Sharpen a vessel too much, and it will be hard to keep it intact for long. De (Virtue) contains the Dao (the Way), and the Dao contains De; their transformations are without end. There is Yin within Yang, and Yang within Yin; this is true of all things, too many to describe one by one. When good fortune is about to arrive, auspicious signs appear first; when calamity is about to arrive, its signs also emerge in advance. If you see auspicious signs but do no good, good fortune will not come. If you see ominous signs and respond by doing good, calamity may be averted. Benefit and harm often arise from the same source, and calamity and good fortune lie close beside one another. No one can fully discern them except the wise. Thus it is said: “Calamity is where good fortune leans; good fortune is where calamity lurks.” Who can know where their transformations will end?

Zan Yi says: Calamity and good fortune depend on one another and transform into each other, like a shadow following the body. When wealth doubles, expenses may double as well. Good deeds may accumulate, yet if they are not put to proper use, it is like raising an owl as one’s child: sooner or later, it will bring harm. Benefit and harm transform in unpredictable cycles; no one can see them clearly in full except the wise.

When a person is about to fall ill, they often first develop a craving for delicacies such as fish and meat. The same is true of a state…

When people are about to fall ill, they often find the taste of fish and meat especially pleasing. When a state is about to perish, its people often begin to resent the counsel of loyal ministers. Thus, when an illness has become grave and death is near, even the finest physician cannot save the patient; when a state is nearing ruin, even the best advice and plans can scarcely save it.

Only after cultivating oneself can one govern the people. Only after putting one’s household in order can one extend the principles of household governance to official and public affairs. Thus, cultivating oneself makes one’s De (virtue) genuine; governing one’s household well gives one De in abundance; governing the state well makes one’s De substantial.

The people depend on clothing and food to live. Government has merit only when it provides the people with enough clothing and food; if it cannot, it has no merit. When government achieves no results, De cannot grow. Therefore, acting against the times leads to failure. Nor can one adapt to the age and accomplish anything without changing punishments that have become unsuited to it. When the times rise anew, this is the way the Dao operates.

The Zan Yi says: A state cannot stand without its people, and the people cannot survive without food. This is an unchanging principle. The people can live in security only when they have enough clothing and food; when these are lacking, government can scarcely achieve anything. Without accomplishments, De cannot grow.

When an emperor makes the people prosperous, this is called the Kingly Way. When a hegemon makes the territory prosperous, he can only claim hegemony. In a state on the brink of danger, only the officials grow wealthy. Those who govern a state well often seem to feel that they still lack wealth, while the granaries of rulers who bring their states to ruin are empty. Thus, when those above do not act recklessly, the people grow prosperous of themselves; when those above do not force things, the people are transformed of themselves.

Mobilizing an army of a hundred thousand costs a thousand jin of wealth each day. After war comes a year of famine. Weapons are therefore ill-omened things, not treasures that a gentleman prizes. Even when deep resentment has been quelled, lingering resentment remains. Why engage in such an unworthy deed?

In ancient times, those nearby were not persuaded by words, nor were those far away drawn in by material wealth. When those above do not act recklessly, the people are transformed of themselves. Mobilizing an army of a hundred thousand costs a thousand jin of wealth each day; after war comes a year of famine. Weapons are therefore ill-omened things, not treasures that a gentleman prizes. Even when deep resentment has been quelled, lingering resentment remains. Why engage in such an unworthy deed?

Make those nearby glad, and those far away will come. When the people and the state share their desires, the state is harmonious; when they safeguard what they share, the state is secure. Only by understanding what the people all wish for can one know how to govern. A state that gains the people’s strength grows wealthy; a ruler who gains their praise rises to prominence.

Actions can bring misfortune, and words can bring it too. Do not be the first to speak; simply speak after others. Even words whispered into someone’s ear can travel a thousand li. Words can invite disaster, and the tongue is like a trigger that sets it in motion. Once words have been spoken amiss, even a swift horse cannot catch them and bring them back.

The Zan Yi says: Across past and present, times of order and times of disorder, what remains unchanged is the territory. What varies from age to age, as the world is sometimes peaceful and sometimes chaotic, is the ruler and the people. When an emperor makes the people prosperous, this is called the Kingly Way. When a hegemon makes the territory prosperous, he can only claim hegemony. In a state on the brink of danger, only the officials grow wealthy. Those who govern a state well often seem to feel that they still lack wealth, while the granaries of rulers who bring their states to ruin are empty. Thus, in the time of Tang Yao and Yu Shun, the people throughout the realm were prosperous; in the Warring States period, no people were prosperous.

Long ago, Zhonghuangzi said: Heaven has five directions—east, south, west, north, and center. Earth has the Five Phases; sound has the five tones; things have the five flavors; colors have five patterns; and people have five ranks. Thus, the people between heaven and earth fall into twenty-five categories.

The five highest categories are the spirit people, realized people, Daoist people, perfected people, and sages. Next come virtuous people, worthy people, wise people, good people, and eloquent people. In the middle are public-spirited people, loyal people, trustworthy people, righteous people, and courteous people. Below them are scholars, artisans, foresters (those who oversee mountains, forests, rivers, and marshes), farmers, and merchants. The five lowest categories are the common people, slaves, fools,  people (the text uses this character), and petty people. The difference between the five highest and five lowest categories is like the difference between humans and cattle or horses.

Sages see with their eyes, hear with their ears, speak with their mouths, and walk with their feet. Realized people, by contrast, can discern clearly without looking, understand without listening, accord with things without walking, and act impartially without speaking. The means by which sages influence the world have already been surpassed by realized people; the means by which worthy people correct worldly customs need not even be considered by sages. What is called the Dao has no distinctions of before and after, or left and right. All things return profoundly to unity, and there is no distinction between right and wrong.

The Zanyu Yi commentary explains: “Zhonghuangzi” was probably a realized person of antiquity. He says that people have five ranks, each divided into five categories, making twenty-five altogether. The spirit person ranks highest, and the petty person lowest. Saying that the highest and lowest five are like humans and cattle or horses means that petty people go against the Dao and De. Though they wear human clothes, in reality they are like cattle or horses. Sages are inferior to realized people, and worthy people are inferior to sages, because they comprehend the Great Dao to different depths, and their ranks differ accordingly.

The Nature of Things

An old commentary says: The utmost Dao is vast and profound, the source of all things. Like a bellows, it stirs and transforms without limit; this is called “naturalness.” The transmission of the Dao cannot be fully expressed in words. It does not come about through deliberate arrangement, yet neither can one say that it does not come about. All things follow their own nature and cannot do otherwise. But “naturalness” does not mean that some force makes things so, nor does it depend on anything external. That is why it is called naturalness.

Laozi says: Stillness and emptiness are Heaven’s clear discernment; Wuwei (non-action) is the constant way of governing.

An old commentary says: Within emptiness and stillness, there is spiritual clarity; even in darkness, there is light. Who can perceive this? It is to be in accord with the Dao. To practice Wuwei and thereby let all things govern themselves and fulfill their own nature—this is Heaven’s clear discernment. Wuwei is the constant way of governing.

Within the void there is hidden clarity; within darkness there is light. Who can see them? They are one with the Dao. Through Wuwei (non-action), all under Heaven is governed naturally, and all things are able to grow and come to fulfillment.

Remove benevolence, set aside self-important cleverness, and do not pride yourself on being worthy. Abandon the names of humaneness and righteousness, discard fixed opinions, and reject clever argument and deceit. Then the worthy and the unworthy can be made equal within the realm of the Dao.

An old commentary says: When these seven distinctions are removed, the worthy have nothing left to boast of, and the foolish no longer feel ashamed. People return to the vast, undifferentiated Great Dao and recover their natural state.

When the heart is still, it accords with the void; when the mind is empty, it can pass through without obstruction. A person of utmost De (Virtue/Power) governs through Wuwei, and all things can be contained. The Way of emptiness and stillness endures, lasting as long as Heaven and Earth. Its wondrous workings are subtle and reach throughout all things, yet it does not rule over them.

An old commentary says: When the heart is empty and still, nothing is beyond its reach; when De is full, nothing is beyond its capacity to contain. Thus the Dao’s wondrous workings are everywhere, yet have no fixed ruler. They circulate throughout all things and never falter.

The twelve months cycle in succession, beginning again when they come to an end.

An old commentary says: The twelve months turn without cease; when one cycle ends, another begins. This is the way of Heaven.

The forces of the Five Phases—Metal, Wood, Water, Fire, and Earth—restrain one another, while their movements also depend on one another.

An old commentary says: The Five Phases shift in turn, now one taking the lead, now another. They circulate without cease and never falter.

The twelve months cycle in succession, beginning again when they come to an end.

An old commentary says: The twelve months turn without cease; when one cycle ends, another begins. This is the way of Heaven.

The forces of the Five Phases—Metal, Wood, Water, Fire, and Earth—restrain one another, while their movements also depend on one another.

An old commentary says: The Five Phases take turns in their movement, sometimes flourishing and sometimes declining. Cold and heat alternate; advance and retreat each have their season, and growth and destruction each follow their own pattern without exceeding what is fitting.

Thus, extreme cold harms all things, but that does not mean cold should not exist. Extreme heat also harms all things, but that does not mean heat should not exist. Whether something should be done depends on the circumstances. The Great Dao has no absolute exclusions: whether an action is appropriate depends on whether it accords with reason. When you see that something can be done, there is no need to rush to embrace it; when you see that it cannot be done, you should avoid it. What can and cannot be done support one another, like left and right, like the outer and inner.

An old commentary says: The alternation of cold and heat is the order of Heaven and Earth; ritual teachings and punishments are the laws of the sages. However severe they may be, cold and heat cannot be dispensed with; when they follow the seasons, they cause no harm. Punishment, however harsh, cannot be abolished; when it accords with reason, it is not harmful. When you see that something can be done, do it; when it cannot, stop.

In every undertaking, the key is to begin at the root; the seasons provide the guiding order for how things unfold. From ancient times to the present, this principle has never changed. It is called the principle of Heaven.

An old commentary says: “The One” is the root of the Dao and the foundation of a ruler’s authority. Though ancient times and the present differ, the way this principle operates has not changed. It is like an axle turning the wheels: the center governs the outer parts, and the wheels turn without cease, beginning and ending in accord with the Way of Heaven.

Those in high positions should grasp the luminous Dao (the Way); those in low positions should put its radiance to use. The Dao causes the myriad things to grow and regulates Yin-Yang, transforming them into the four seasons and dividing them into the Five Phases (Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, Water). It gives each thing its proper place, while they change and come and go with the seasons, always following a definite pattern. Those below may lack the ability to act on their own, but they cannot go against the Great Dao. When the ruler’s way does not collapse, ministers can act with one heart and mind. The Great Dao by which Heaven and Earth move requires no deliberate action, yet all things are brought to completion; it seeks nothing, yet gains what is needed. Thus we should understand that Wuwei (non-action) can also bring benefit.

An old commentary says: Heaven displays its signs and shines in all directions; the ruler establishes laws and governs the realm. Hibernating creatures awaken, the people receive blessings, Yin-Yang moves without straying from its proper course, and the myriad things each follow their usual way. Without governing through Wuwei, it would be impossible to benefit the state. In ancient times, when Yao ruled the realm, he also gave importance to cultivating himself.

Laozi says: What is most simple and vast has no shape; the Great Dao is boundless in its breadth. Heaven is round, yet does not perfectly conform to the compass; Earth is square, yet does not perfectly conform to the carpenter’s square. From ancient times to the present is called “zhou”; the four directions, above and below, are called “yu.” The Great Dao is within the universe, yet no one knows exactly where it is. Therefore, one whose vision is not far-reaching cannot be spoken to about the vast Dao; one whose knowledge is not broad cannot be spoken to about the ultimate Dao. Those who receive the Great Dao and understand the myriad things do not cling to opposing views of this and that.

An old commentary says: Dao and De (Virtue/Power) are vast and have no shape; Heaven and Earth are immense and have no bounds. The Great Dao is near, within a hair’s breadth, yet people cannot see it; it reaches as far as the whole universe, yet is difficult to fathom. Unless one has broad vision and understands all things, it is hard to grasp the source of the ultimate Dao or to see clearly the realm of right and wrong.

Thus, although the laws and institutions established by the Three Sovereigns and Five Emperors differed, they agreed in winning the people’s hearts.

An old commentary says: Their systems of governance differed, but their regard for the people was the same.

As for the compass, the carpenter’s square, the try square, and the ink line, these are tools for making objects, but they are not the craft itself.

Thus, though there were no strings, Shi Wen could not produce music; but strings alone could not sound a sorrowful melody either. The strings are merely a means of expressing mournful tones; they are not sorrow itself.

An old commentary says: Though all things are said to arise naturally, they still depend on supporting conditions and cannot operate entirely on their own. The compass, the carpenter’s square, the try square, and the ink line are tools for applying skill, but they are not skill itself; the ingenuity lies with the person who uses them. Without strings, a zither cannot produce a melody; the instrument is merely a means of expressing mournful tones, and is not sorrow itself.

When mastery of the qin reaches a state in which thought and spirit are harmonized, and mind and hands respond to one another, one can release conscious intention and play in accordance with the feelings within. Every variation in the music then emerges on the strings. A father cannot teach this state to his son, nor can a son learn it directly from his father. This is the Dao that cannot be transmitted. An old commentary says this describes Shi Wen playing the qin: his fingers pluck the strings, giving free rein to the spirit and thought within him. His mind and hands respond in harmony, and he grasps the rhythms of Yin-Yang in motion. The notes then change with the four seasons and resonate with all things. Though father and son are close, neither can convey this subtle state to the other. The point is that the subtlety of the Dao likewise cannot be passed on through words or handed directly from one person to another.

Stillness governs the physical form; silence is the root of sound. An old commentary explains that physical form arises from stillness, so stillness governs form; sound is contained within silence, so silence is the root of sound.

Laozi said: Heaven and Earth move with De as their foundation. The Dao gives life to the myriad things, and De brings each of them to its proper way. The source of Dao and De is deep and inward; it does not prize outward achievements. So there is no need to wait for accomplishments to be established, nor to rely on status for honor. One need not wait for fame to gain renown, depend on ritual to appear dignified, or wield weapons to become powerful.

An old commentary explains that when the Dao brings things into being, this is called “destiny”; when De nourishes and sustains them, this is called “the ruler.” If people can harmonize spirit and breath, set nature and life on their proper course, preserve Jing and Qi within, and cast aside turmoil without, why would they need fame or status to make themselves esteemed? Without deploying arms and armor, they can still prevent others from causing them harm.

Thus, once the Dao is established, there is no need to impose instruction through commands. Once its light shines upon all things, there is no need to scrutinize everything. To establish the Dao without imposing instruction is not to constrain people’s abilities; to let its light shine everywhere without harsh scrutiny is not to obstruct the natural course of things.

An old commentary says that when the Dao is established, cumbersome commands can be dispensed with; when discernment reaches its utmost, deliberate scrutiny is no longer needed. Only then can all things follow their own course without obstruction.

Teaching people to pursue a particular “Dao” deliberately runs counter to De and harms the myriad things. Yin-Yang, the four seasons, and Wood, Metal, Water, Fire, and Earth have a common source, yet each follows different principles in its expression and movement. The natures of the myriad things are connected, though their forms differ. Those who understand cannot directly teach their insight to others, and those who have ability cannot directly give that ability to someone else. Therefore, the sage establishes laws to guide the people’s intentions, allowing each person to follow their own nature. While alive, people need not credit the ruler with their merit and virtue; when they die, they will not resent the ruler for it.

Earlier commentaries say that “contrary to De” means that instruction arises only after De has declined, while “accommodating things” means first diminishing something and only afterward adding to it. The Five Phases each have their own qualities, and all things take different forms. Instruction, too, has its stages and sequence, while people differ in wisdom and folly. Thus the sage establishes standards and teaches: guiding those who are foolish, enabling the wise to teach one another, and ensuring that the capable do not hide their skills. Everyone fulfills their responsibilities, and all ultimately return to what is natural. In life, the sage does not boast of De; after death, he does not blame Heaven.

“Heaven and Earth are not benevolent: they treat the myriad things as straw dogs. The sage is not benevolent: he treats the people as straw dogs.” An earlier commentary explains: Heaven and Earth bring forth and nurture the myriad things, and the sage cares for the people—but do they deliberately favor some things or show partiality toward certain people? Seen as a whole, the myriad things and the people are like straw dogs used in sacrifice: they are left to follow their natural course, without favor or preference.

Practices such as compassion and benevolence belong to a narrower Dao. Those with narrow vision lose their way when they enter a vast realm; those who see only what is near are easily confused when they travel far. The sage’s Dao enters the vast without losing its way and travels far without confusion. The sage always preserves himself through emptiness and stillness, and so can reach the highest realm. This is called “Heavenly De”—De in accord with the Dao of Heaven.

An earlier commentary says that the Dao and De are profound and mysterious, while benevolence and righteousness have a comparatively narrow scope. Those who cling to a small path easily lose their way; the sage walks the broad road and meets no obstruction. If the mind and spirit cannot remain clear for long, how can one reach a state in accord with the Dao of Heaven?

Laozi says: The sage covers all things like Heaven, bears all things like Earth, shines upon them all like the sun and moon, and transforms and harmonizes them like Yin-Yang and the four seasons. Whatever the differing dispositions and kinds of things, the sage treats them all alike, showing no preference based on what is new or old, near or distant.

An earlier commentary says this describes the sage’s De: covering and bearing all things like Heaven and Earth, shining upon them like the sun and moon, and setting change in motion like the four seasons. Customs may differ, and living beings may belong to different kinds; plants and insects, too, can dwell in peace and follow their own natures. There is no distinction between the new and the old, or between what is near and what is distant.

Therefore, those skilled at following the Dao of Heaven understand that Heaven does not bring a year to completion through just one season, Earth does not nurture the myriad things through just one resource, and people do not perform just one kind of task. Thus affairs and undertakings take many forms, and actions and paths differ as well.

An earlier commentary says that if Heaven had only one season, it could not complete a year; if Earth had only one resource, it could not meet the needs of the myriad things. If a person had only one ability, that person would not be considered valuable.

When directing troops, some people are rash, some cautious, some greedy, and some upright. Each of these four kinds of people seeks something different, so they cannot be expected to act in complete agreement. The old commentary says that each pursues what they believe will benefit them, and so their intentions differ.

The rash want to go into battle at once, while the cautious want to halt. The greedy want to seize wealth, while the upright refuse to take what is not theirs. The old commentary says that an army must act with one purpose, but the cautious want to stop and the rash want to advance. Each considers only what suits them, so they cannot be brought into agreement. When their intentions differ, they are likely to be defeated when they meet the enemy. But if one assesses each person’s abilities, determines whether they are suited to light or heavy responsibilities, and assigns them appropriately, victory in battle is assured.

Thus, the brave can be sent to charge into battle, but should not be tasked with holding a position. The steady can be assigned to defend a position, but should not be sent to attack enemy lines. The greedy can be sent to capture goods, but should not be put in charge of distributing them. The upright can be relied on to keep to what is proper, but should not be assigned to pursue gains. The trustworthy can be relied on to honor agreements, but should not be tasked with responding to changing circumstances. The sage makes use of all five kinds of people, assigning each duties suited to their abilities.

The old commentary says that only the sage knows how to bring out people’s strengths and does not make them do what they are not good at. For this reason, no one under Heaven can oppose them.

Heaven and Earth do not contain only one kind of thing, and Yin-Yang does not produce only one category. The sea becomes vast because it does not reject streams and pools; forests and mountains rise high because they do not reject crooked trees. The sage, too, does not dismiss the words of a woodcutter, and thereby enlarges their reputation. If one clings to a single place and abandons all the rest of the world, or takes only one thing and discards everything else, one gains little and governs only a narrow domain.

The old commentary says that if the Dao is not broad enough, it cannot contain the myriad things; if the sage’s De is not deep enough, it cannot accept even humble words. One must not rely on a single ability or cling to a single place. Clinging to one corner narrows one’s outlook; relying too heavily on one ability makes one’s understanding shallow.

Laozi says that all things covered by Heaven, carried by Earth, and illuminated by the sun and moon differ in form and nature, and each has its own place of contentment. Yet treating what one likes as the only source of happiness may bring sorrow; treating what one considers secure as the only form of security may bring danger.

An old commentary says: If you impose your own idea of happiness on others and make them be happy in your way, you will instead make them sorrowful. Only by following another person’s wishes can you make that person truly happy. If you impose on someone the life you consider secure, you may instead put them in danger. Only by following their nature and letting them feel at home in their own way of life can they truly be secure.

Thus, when the sage governs the people, each person is allowed to follow their nature, live in a place suited to them, do what suits them, make full use of their abilities, take up work they are good at, and receive provisions appropriate to their needs. In this way, though the myriad things differ from one another, they can live together as equals, with none placed above another. An old commentary explains: The sage governs the people by allowing those with different natures and forms to find what suits them. Though the kinds of things are many, they are like one whole and do not surpass one another; this is why it is called “equalizing all things.”

Nothing in the world has a fixed status as noble or base. If we follow a thing’s worth and value it, nothing is beyond being worthy of esteem; if we follow its shortcomings and look down on it, nothing is beyond being deemed lowly. An old commentary says: Nobility and lowliness have no fixed boundary, and poverty and distinction have no constant standard. What matters is whether the right time comes and whether one is put to use.

Thus, “not exalting the worthy” means not putting fish in trees or sinking birds into deep water. An old commentary explains: Things should be placed according to their nature. Birds are good at flying, so let them perch in the woods; fish are good at swimming, so let them live in water. Then each finds its proper place, whether flying or diving, and both the capable and the ordinary can be put to suitable use.

In ancient times, when Yao governed the realm, Shun served as Minister of Education, overseeing instruction and government; Xie served as Minister of War, overseeing military affairs; and Yu served as Minister of Works, overseeing construction, waterworks, and related matters. An old commentary says these were all high ministers who assisted the Son of Heaven. They were responsible for planning the governance of the state and harmonizing Yin and Yang, and were the Son of Heaven’s trusted aides. Houji oversaw agriculture and taught the people to sow crops. Xizhong served as Master of Crafts, making implements to meet the people’s daily needs. This is how the sage employed people of ability. Yao’s achievements extended throughout Heaven and Earth, and his Virtue spread across the four seas. Only Heaven is supreme, and Yao was able to model himself on it.

When the sage instructs the people, livelihoods are arranged according to local conditions: those who live by the water fish, those who live in the woods gather, those who live in valleys herd animals, and those who live on the plains farm. Each place is assigned the work its land suits; the tools needed for that work are prepared, and the tools are made from materials available locally. People weave nets in lakes and marshes and cultivate fields on hillsides. In this way, people can trade what they have for what they lack, exchange what they are good at for what they are not, and use their strengths to make up for others’ weaknesses.

As a result, few people scatter or rebel, and many are willing to follow. The situation is like wind passing through bamboo pipes: when the wind suddenly blows, each pipe produces its own high or low sound, responding to the wind from outside. People pursue what benefits them and avoid what harms them. Thus neighboring states can see one another and hear the calls of chickens and dogs across their borders, yet people’s footprints do not cross the boundaries between the feudal states, nor do wheel tracks meet over a thousand li. The people of every state live peacefully in their own place.

The sage guides the people by arranging their lives in keeping with their natural dispositions, so that each can settle comfortably according to their circumstances. In this way, what one place has in abundance can be exchanged for what another lacks, and different levels of skill can complement one another. It is like wind passing through a flute and producing sound, or rain nourishing all things: each responds to the influence it receives and benefits from the nourishment it is given. Thus, neighboring states may be within sight of one another without needing to take up arms, and the people remain settled in their own places to the end of their lives.

A disordered state, then, may appear crowded and powerful, while a well-governed state may seem sparsely populated. A state on the verge of ruin always appears short of resources, while one able to endure appears well provided for. “Emptiness” does not mean that there are no people; it means that everyone attends to their proper duties. “Abundance” does not mean a large population; it means that everyone pursues petty, marginal gains. “Surplus” does not mean having a great deal of property; it means knowing restraint and having few affairs to manage. “Insufficiency” does not mean having no property; it means that the people are few while their expenses are great.

An old commentary says that understanding these four conditions makes it possible to see the roots of order and disorder in a state, and to discern the course toward endurance or ruin.