《文子缵义》Vol. 3

The former kings established laws and standards not by inventing them out of nothing, but by adapting to circumstances that already existed. They set prohibitions and imposed punishments not to kill, but to maintain order. When people disobeyed the laws, incurred guilt, and even faced execution, this was a last resort. This is the way of great De (Virtue/Power).

Laozi said, “Governing the world through the Dao (the Way) does not mean changing people’s nature. It means following the principles already within them, guiding them so they can find a clear path.” So to accomplish something great, begin with the conditions that make it great; to deal with something small, begin with the conditions that make it small. The ancients cleared waterways by following the direction of the current, grew crops according to what the land could support, and undertook military campaigns in accord with the people’s wishes. Those who can act in keeping with circumstances can be unmatched under Heaven. Each thing has its own natural nature; only then can human affairs be properly governed.

An old commentary says: Observe the nature of each thing, then act in accordance with what suits it. If you follow the people’s wishes, nothing will be impossible to accomplish, and your actions will meet no obstacles at every turn.

Therefore, the former kings established laws and standards by taking human nature and desires into account. Those who can follow human feelings can be unmatched under Heaven. Each thing has its own natural nature; only then can human affairs be properly governed.

The former kings established laws and standards by following human nature, then regulating and guiding it. If a certain nature is entirely absent, people cannot be forced to submit to instruction. If that nature is present but the necessary conditions are lacking, people cannot be expected to follow the right path.

An old commentary says: Just as wood cannot be made to grow in water, metal cannot be made to produce flames.

The foundations of benevolence and righteousness are present in human nature. Yet without sages to establish laws and point the way, people find it difficult to act on them. Prohibitions that address what people dislike can prevent wrongdoing; then punishments can be used sparingly, and the authority of government orders can shine like something divine. Follow human nature, and people throughout the world will obey; go against it, and even strict laws will be difficult to enforce.

An old commentary says: Although Dao, De, benevolence, and righteousness are rooted in human nature, people find it difficult to return to their natural nature and follow the right path without sage kings to establish laws, impose rewards and punishments, guide them through teaching in De, regulate them through ritual, and deter them through punishment. When human nature is followed, people respond as swiftly as though moved by divine influence; when it is opposed, no one obeys, even if orders are issued.

De is the foundation of achievement and reputation, and something the people hold dear. Only when the people recognize and cherish it can achievement and reputation be established.

An old commentary says: Without De, on what could achievement and reputation be built?

In ancient times, rulers skilled in governing the world took the rivers and seas as their model. The rivers and seas did not deliberately act, yet attained great breadth. By occupying a low position, they achieved vastness, and so they could endure. Like the valleys of the world, they received all things, and their De (Virtue/Power) was therefore abundant. They did not deliberately act, and so could receive the waters of a hundred rivers; they did not seek, and so gained; they did not deliberately set out, and so were able to arrive. Thus, when a ruler governed the world without disturbing the people and did not exalt himself, he brought abundance. He did not flaunt himself, and so was clear-sighted; he did not boast, and so remained for a long time in a position where he claimed no merit. In this way, he became the ruler of the world.

By not contending, no one could contend with him. By never considering himself great, he was able to accomplish great things. The rivers and seas were close to the Dao (the Way), and so could endure and remain in harmony with Heaven and Earth. When lords and princes cultivated the Dao, they did not claim the accomplishments they achieved. By not claiming them, they made them firm and secure. Firm and secure, they did not use force to oppress others; their understanding of human affairs was therefore profound. With profound De, accomplishments and reputation could be established. This is “Mysterious De,” deep and subtle virtue, remote and difficult to fathom, and contrary to worldly ways.

An old commentary says: “The people of the world esteem high rank, but I place myself low. They value self-praise, but I do not contend. I remain for a long time in a position where I claim no merit, and so I am contrary to worldly ways.”

All things under Heaven have a source, yet no one knows its principles; only the sage understands where they come from. It makes no distinction between male and female, between the masculine and the feminine, and gives rise to life without end. Heaven and Earth take shape from it; Yin-Yang appears through it, and all things are born from it. Yin-Yang has roundness and squareness, shortness and length, existence and disappearance; the Dao sets the patterns by which these move. The Dao is deep and still. It does not stir falsely within the mind, yet holds within it profound principles and inexhaustible abundance. It regards life and death as governed by the same pattern, and gathers the transformations of all things into a single Dao.

Understand this principle, and you can regard life and death with equanimity, at ease and enduring wherever you go. To leave behind the turmoil of affairs and words is to follow Wuwei (non-action). Hold fast to the great Dao and respond attentively to all things without ruling over them. The Dao is subtle and formless, the beginning of Heaven and Earth. All things are the same in the Dao, yet differ in their physical forms. The Dao is so subtle that it leaves no trace, yet responds to all things everywhere; it is so vast that it has no boundaries, and thus is the root of all things. It is so subtle that it has no inner limits, and thus also runs through all things.

Use the Dao to preserve life and De to settle the body. To follow the principles of the utmost Dao, one must cast aside likes, dislikes, and attachments, and avoid being swayed by preconceived notions. Let the mind be at peace and do not act contrary to the Dao.

The old commentary says that “Heaven and Earth have a beginning.” This “beginning” is the Dao. No one in the world can know the Dao completely, because it cannot be recognized by male and female, shape or color. The Dao allows life to exist, while De (Virtue/Power) steadies the human form. The principle of the Great Dao is to set aside likes and dislikes and not let selfish thoughts obstruct understanding. In this way, the mind can remain at peace and avoid going against the Dao.

The old commentary also says that Heaven and Earth have their distinction of high and low; the sun and moon each follow their patterns of day and night; Yin-Yang has its principles of hardness and softness; and all things have different inherent capacities, some long and some short. The Dao, however, belongs to none of these: darkness or manifestation, existence or extinction, great or small, round or square. It moves without ceasing and changes without any fixed pattern. Those who can perceive the Dao and follow it can preserve life and steady the body. They do not trouble their minds over trivial matters or cling to words. With an open mind and by following what is natural, they can return to simplicity and reach a state of benevolence and longevity.

When Heaven and Earth are unified, they become one; when divided, they become two. Bring them together again, and each takes its proper place above or below, so that there is no disorder. When Heaven and Earth are unified, they become one; when differentiated, they become the Five Phases (Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, Water). Bring them together again, and they accord with the proper measure.

The old commentary explains: “One” refers to primordial Qi (vital energy) spreading throughout; “two” refers to forms flowing into activity; and “five” refers to the Five Phases. “Above and below” means the human being between Heaven and Earth. If a person can unite their De with that of Heaven and Earth, they can bring the vital essences of Heaven and Earth together in unity, accord with an established measure, and return to the origin.

The Dao is closest of all, yet it cannot be perceived by the senses; it is nearer to us than anything else, yet it cannot be sought from afar. Those who search for the Dao in distant places must ultimately return. The old commentary explains: seeking the Dao far away among external things is not as good as seeking it within oneself.

Laozi says, “The sovereign has a title, yet no one knows his true nature.” The emperor prizes De, the king esteems righteousness, and the hegemon understands principles.

The old commentary explains: De means nurturing all things; righteousness means rescuing those in hardship and supporting those in danger; and principles means following the right moment and the patterns of things.

The way the sage governs is to refrain from interfering recklessly with the myriad things. When the Dao is narrow, people rely on clever schemes; when De is shallow, they rely on punishment; when understanding is limited, they rely on harsh and meticulous surveillance. Reliance on clever schemes disorders the heart; reliance on punishment breeds resentment between those above and below; and reliance on harsh scrutiny leads people to stop devoting themselves to good conduct and fulfilling their duties. This is how abuses arise.

An old commentary says: When cleverness and cunning multiply, genuine simplicity is thrown into disorder. Once punishments become part of the system, people begin to rely on them in their actions. Deceit and excessive scrutiny also arise from this. When these three conditions take hold, the sage forbids them, yet cannot put an end to them completely. This is where the harm caused by losing the Dao begins.

Therefore, the sage follows the transformations of Heaven and Earth in governing through De (Virtue/Power): covering all things like Heaven and supporting all things like Earth. By guiding the people in accord with the seasons, the sage ensures that they receive proper care. To care for them well is to govern. Even a person of divine insight and sagely wisdom could not change this pattern. Remove schemes and clever contrivances, reduce punishments, and return to quiet stillness: all things will then set themselves right.

A ruler who practices the Dao is like the corpse-bearer in an ancient sacrifice—the person who sat solemnly in place as the ancestor being honored—profoundly still and silent, allowing all under Heaven to receive its blessings. Whether one person or ten thousand receive them, the blessings are neither excessive nor insufficient. Thus, excessive generosity and excessive violence alike go against the Dao. Here, “bestowing favor” means giving and showing kindness.

An old commentary says: The sage sees the ills of the age: people rely on cleverness and deceit, so the sage uses the Dao to correct them, guiding them back to quiet stillness and allowing all things to set themselves right. By maintaining profound stillness and silence, the sage helps people recover their simplicity. Favors are not granted arbitrarily, and punishments are not imposed arbitrarily. In this way, disorder does not arise, and society follows the Dao.

If people receive generous rewards without merit, or high rank without achievement, those who fulfill their duties will grow lax, while idle wanderers will eagerly seek office. If rulers act violently and kill recklessly, punishing the innocent and subjecting those who follow the Dao and do good to penalties, then people who cultivate themselves will have no encouragement, while wrongdoers will come to despise those above them. Thus, indiscriminate generosity breeds treachery, and indiscriminate violence brings calamity. A climate of treachery and disorder is a sign that a state is nearing its fall.

An old commentary says: People who follow the Dao must not be punished, and those without merit must not be granted rank. Otherwise, those who fulfill their duties will grow lax, and those who follow the Dao and do good will become resentful. This is precisely the climate that breeds treachery and disorder and leads a state toward ruin.

Therefore, when a state imposes punishments, the ruler need not become angry; when the court grants rewards, the ruler need not personally bestow favor. Those who are punished do not resent the ruler, because they know they truly deserve the penalty. Those who are rewarded do not credit their superiors, because they understand that the reward comes from their own achievements. When the people know that rewards and punishments arise from their own actions, they will strive to accomplish things and put their affairs in order, rather than rely on others to grant them favors. The court will then be quiet and free of needless business, while the fields are cultivated and left unneglected.

Rewards encourage good conduct, and punishments suppress wrongdoing and evil. Those who bestow rewards should not display arrogance, and all that recipients gain through rewards comes from their own efforts. People then focus solely on building merit and achieving their aims, rather than relying on others’ charity. The court is thus tranquil, with no trace of strife; the fields are cultivated and left to no waste.

Rewards can urge people toward goodness, and punishments can curb treachery and evil. Those who give rewards do so without pride, and those who impose punishments are free of grief and favoritism. People nearby are thereby blessed, while those far away respect and submit to the ruler’s De. Each person practices their own occupation and exerts their full strength. The court is therefore free of lawsuits and disputes, and crops flourish in the fields.

The highest form of government is one in which the people do not know who governs them, yet naturally enjoy a peaceful life.

An old commentary says: In the age of decline, people knew that the highest form of rule accorded with the Dao, and later rulers therefore took it as their model.

A ruler who follows the kingly way handles affairs in accordance with Wuwei (non-action) and teaches without relying on words. He is quiet and undisturbing, and does not lightly alter the laws. He follows the way things work, lets his ministers each fulfill their duties, and merely checks their results; thus he need not labor over every matter. His plans are free of miscalculation, and his measures free of error. His words accord with the law, his conduct sets an example, his advances and retreats are timely, and his movements and stillness follow what is right. He neither favors nor dislikes on account of beauty or ugliness, nor grants rewards or imposes punishments out of joy or anger. Each title has its proper place, each kind of task its proper function, and all things follow their own nature, without arising from the ruler’s private will. Attempts to control things by force only make them depart from their nature; attempts to embellish them deliberately only damage their essence.

An old commentary says: If a ruler lacks a broad heart, he cannot contain all things; if he is not quiet and still, he cannot bring harmony to the people. He should put aside favor and dislike and esteem simplicity and plainness. Ornamentation should not damage substance. Though the kinds of things are many, in the end they should all return to their natural state.

The Qi of Heaven gives rise to spirit, while the Qi of Earth gives rise to the hun and po souls. Returning to the mysterious Dao, one lets spirit and soul each settle in its proper place and carefully guards them so they do not scatter. Then one can rise and commune with the Great One (Taiyi), the origin of the cosmos and supreme unified Qi. The vital essence of the Great One accords with the Way of Heaven. The Way of Heaven is profound and wordless: it reveals no form and follows no fixed rule. It is so vast that it cannot be exhausted, so deep that it cannot be measured, and it continually changes along with all things. Human wisdom cannot grasp its workings. It turns without end and transforms with wondrous subtlety; empty, still, and inactive, it responds to all things, always remaining behind rather than pressing ahead.

Humanity’s impulse to defend belongs to Yang and to the force of life; it is received from Heaven. The impulse to kill belongs to Yin and to the force of death; it is received from Earth. Each follows its own inherent order. The force of defense is the wondrous working of Yang Qi; the force of killing is the essence of Yin Qi. Both Yin and Yang Qi are the most subtle energies between Heaven and Earth, and so are called “mysterious.” When Heaven receives them, it remains bright forever; when a person receives them, they can live on. Therefore, preserve them and do not lose them. In this way, one can reach upward and unite with the “Great One” (Taiyi), the supreme source in Daoist thought, also a title for the Lord of the Dao. People are born by receiving the Great One. If they guard their spirit and keep it from leaving the body, they can accord with the Way of Heaven. With focused attention and sustained recollection, they can reach this state.

The way to preserve them lies in concentration and stillness: keep the mind and spirit from scattering, and do not let external things constrain them. This force is vast and boundless, subtle and unfathomable; it is therefore always changing in response to people. Those of limited wisdom cannot fathom its workings. Its movement is like a turning wheel, and its transformations like a spirit manifesting; amid emptiness, it remains in accord with the Way of Heaven. With focused attention and sustained recollection, one can connect with it. In preserving it, remain concentrated and still, free from the constraints of external things. It is vast and boundless, subtle and unfathomable, constantly changing in response to people, beyond the reach of human understanding. Its movement is like a wheel, its transformations like those of a spirit. Amid emptiness, it always follows the Way of Heaven, staying behind rather than striving to be first. It is deepest of all, yet sees clearly; hence it is called “Utter Darkness.”

When a ruler handles affairs of state, they should be open-minded and humble, keeping their understanding clear and undimmed. Then the ministers will gather to assist as spokes gather at the hub of a wheel. Whether dull or clever, worthy or unworthy, each will be able to use their talents. The ruler will thereby learn how to direct the ministers, and the ministers will know how to serve the ruler. This is how the Way of governing a state is made manifest.

An old commentary says: If a ruler has clear discernment, they can recognize people of integrity and refinement. Govern with this state of mind, and the ministers will hasten to support the ruler and will not readily abandon them. Cultivate yourself in this way, and all things will gather around to protect you, leaving you isolated no longer.

Laozi said: “One who has knowledge and enjoys asking questions may be called wise; one who is brave and enjoys asking questions can prevail. Those skilled at drawing on the wisdom of others can undertake anything; those skilled at drawing on the strength of others can overcome any difficulty.” There is little to be gained by relying on one’s own strength, even if one is Wuhuo, the legendary strongman. But one who is skilled at drawing on the strength of others can put all the power under Heaven to use.

An old commentary says: One who is skilled at using the strength of others has no formidable enemy under Heaven. When people join their strength, they can move mountains, however heavy; when they combine their wisdom, they can understand what lies behind the hidden and unseen workings of spirits.

If one lacks sufficient authority yet tries to do what exceeds one’s abilities, while failing to follow the order of things, then even spirits and sages cannot succeed.

An old commentary says: Once the mechanism of a crossbow is drawn, even an ordinary person can unleash a force of ten thousand jun with only a little preparation. But when the principles of a matter are no longer clear, even a sage, however wise, cannot make a child change what he says.

Thus, the sage always acts according to the conditions at hand. Someone with a particular merit is placed in a fitting position; someone with a particular skill is entrusted with a fitting task. When a person’s strength is sufficient for the task, appointing them takes no effort; when their ability matches the demands of the work, carrying it out presents no difficulty. The sage makes use of all kinds of people and things, so no one is left idle and no resource is wasted.

An old commentary says: Assign each person according to their qualities, so that each can fully realize them; make use of each person according to their abilities, so that each can exert their skills to the fullest.

Laozi says: “What is called Wuwei (non-action) does not mean that someone will neither come when pulled nor leave when pushed; that one remains indifferent to the world and does not respond when affected by it, like something frozen in place; or that one wraps something up, grips it tightly, and refuses to let go.”

An old commentary says: To follow the times, adapt flexibly, and respond to things without obstruction is called Wuwei.

Wuwei means not allowing private thoughts to intrude upon the impartial Way, nor personal preferences and desires to obstruct proper principles. It means acting in accordance with how things work, building achievements in response to the conditions, and following the natural course of events without letting bias or perversity creep in. When a task is done, one does not boast; when an achievement is complete, one does not claim the fame.

For example, use boats on waterways, sand sleds on sandy ground, churns—carts designed for muddy terrain—on mud, and wooden climbing aids in the mountains. Open irrigation channels in summer and build dikes to store water in winter. Let high ground, following its natural form, become a mountain, and low ground become a pond. These are not things I have deliberately fashioned. An old commentary says: Follow the favorable conditions of each place and let all things find what suits them. That is why it says, “These are not things I have fashioned.”

The sage is not ashamed of holding a low position; what truly concerns him is that the Great Way may not be put into practice. He does not worry about having a short life; he worries that the people may suffer. Therefore, he remains empty and still, without acting rashly, and keeps to simplicity and his original nature, free from entanglement with external things.

An old commentary says: Remain in accord with the Dao from beginning to end, undisturbed by external things.

Laozi said: In ancient times, emperors were established not to satisfy their desires, and sages rose to high positions not to make themselves comfortable and indulge in pleasure. In those days, among the people of the world, the strong bullied the weak, the many oppressed the few, the cunning deceived the dull-witted, and the bold and fierce harmed the timid and frail. People kept their schemes and deceits to themselves and would not share them with one another; when they had wealth, they would not give any of it to others.

Therefore, the Son of Heaven was established to govern the world as one. But no single person’s understanding can extend throughout the Four Seas, so the Three Dukes and Nine Ministers were appointed to assist the Son of Heaven. The customs of distant regions differed, and their people could not readily receive the central government’s beneficence, so feudal lords were also appointed to teach the people in those places. In this way, the workings of Heaven and Earth and the changing seasons could be followed; no matter was concealed from the authorities, and no benefit to the state was overlooked. Those who were cold received clothing, the hungry received food, the old and the weak were cared for, and the weary were given rest. Every kind of need was met.

An old commentary says: When a sage occupies the highest position, it is not to exalt his own status or indulge himself, but to bring peace to the people and remedy what is wrong. The Son of Heaven governs the world by holding to the unifying principle; the Three Dukes discuss the Way of governing the state and set matters right; the Nine Ministers carry out the laws and assist in administration; and the feudal lords proclaim instruction and guide the people. Thus, customs are alike in far-off and nearby places, and ruler and ministers are of one mind. Officials do not take salaries they have not earned, and even in the marketplaces there are no crooked or greedy schemes. The Book of Songs says, “How eminent is his De; the four states follow him.” This means that when De is made manifest, the states in every direction will follow.

Shennong labored until his body grew gaunt and haggard; Yao became thin; Shun’s complexion darkened; and Yu the Great wore thick calluses on his hands and feet. Yi Yin carried a cooking cauldron on his back to seek an audience with Tang of Shang. Lü Wang once wielded a knife to butcher livestock for others, then entered the service of the Zhou dynasty. Baili Xi was sold from one person to another, and Guan Zhong was bound and held captive. Confucius traveled from place to place, while smoke from his cooking hearth had long since stopped blackening the roof; Mozi was constantly on the move, and his mat never had time to grow warm. These men did not covet office or envy a salary. They wanted to do what would benefit the world and remove the harms that afflicted all things. From the Son of Heaven down to ordinary people, those who refuse to labor with their limbs or trouble their minds over their duties, yet seek abundant support, have never been heard of.

An old commentary says: From Shennong onward, these men became thin and haggard, and wore thick calluses on their hands and feet, not to rise above the people or fulfill their own ambitions, but because they were committed to helping the world. No one can sit idle waiting for a salary, reap grain without sowing it, and expect to be well provided for.

Laozi said: The Son of Heaven is one who follows the Way of Heaven in governing the world. The principle of governing the world lies in holding to the fundamental principle of unity and using it to safeguard the world; returning to the root, following Wuwei (non-action), and remaining empty and still, without attaching the mind to particular forms. This state is elusive and hard to grasp, boundless, vast, and without end. Look for it, and no shape can be seen; listen for it, and no sound can be heard. This is called the constant principle of the Great Dao.

In ancient usage, “Son of Heaven” referred to one who grasped the Way of Heaven and governed the realm accordingly. The foundation of governing the realm lies in grasping the core principle of the Dao and using it to safeguard all under Heaven. People should return to their roots, follow Wuwei (non-action), and remain empty and still, undisturbed by external things. The Dao is elusive and subtle, without boundaries or end; it cannot be seen or heard. This is the constant principle of the Great Dao.

Laozi said: The Dao’s original nature is perfectly rounded and unobstructed, yet its workings can accord with the rules of squareness. It turns its back on Yin and embraces Yang; its left side is yielding, its right side firm. It moves through darkness while supporting the light. The Dao’s transformations have no fixed pattern, yet it holds fast to the fundamental One as it responds to the varied circumstances of the myriad things. This is called divine efficacy: a wondrous, unfathomable power.

An old commentary says: The human head is round, symbolizing Heaven; the feet are square, symbolizing Earth. One’s back faces Yin and one’s front faces Yang; the left hand symbolizes yielding and the right hand firmness. The feet tread the Ninefold Abyss, the deepest darkness, while the head crowns the Three Luminaries—the sun, moon, and stars. The Dao operates without end, its subtle radiance reaching everywhere. It holds to the One without change, while ceaselessly turning and transforming: this is called divine efficacy. Those who perceive and accord with this Dao will flourish.

Heaven is round and has no boundary, so its form cannot be clearly discerned. Earth is vast and without limit, so its farthest reaches cannot be explored. The transformations of the Way of Heaven continue without end and reveal no fixed form. Earth gives life to the myriad things, whose number cannot be calculated.

An old commentary says: The transformations of the Way of Heaven are endless; even the most perceptive cannot see its form. Earth brings forth life without cease; even those skilled in calculation cannot count the myriad things.

Each thing has something in which it surpasses other things. Only the Dao has nothing that can surpass it. The Dao is unmatched because it has no fixed form or configuration. It turns without ceasing, like the movements of the sun and moon and the succession of spring and autumn; day and night follow one another, and brightness gives way to darkness. The Dao generates forms without being bound to any fixed form, and so its work can be accomplished. It brings forth the myriad things without being confined by any one of them, and so it can prevail without being overcome.

An old commentary says: Form arises from the formless, and therefore forms can be generated without end. The myriad things arise from nothing, and therefore they can be brought forth without end.

Those who can devise plans and secure victory in the ancestral temple can become emperors; those who can use wondrous transformations to nurture the myriad things can become kings. Planning in the ancestral temple means following the Way of Heaven. Wondrous transformation means bringing things to completion without being constrained by them; thus one can prevail without being overcome.

An old commentary says: Form arises from the formless, and therefore forms can be generated without end. The myriad things arise from nothing, and therefore they can be brought forth without end. “Planning for war in the temple” means winning through reason and strategy, thereby establishing imperial rule. “Divine transformation” means winning through military force, thereby establishing kingly rule. Military force is used only when there is no other choice.

Planning in the ancestral temple means following the Way of Heaven. Governing the realm through wondrous transformations enables one to understand the seasons clearly. When good government is established within the borders, people in distant lands will be moved by its De. When victory is secured before battle begins, the feudal lords will naturally come to submit.

Those in ancient times who attained the Dao modeled themselves on Heaven and Earth in stillness, and followed the sun and moon in action. Their joy and anger accorded with the rhythms of the four seasons; their commands resonated with the force of thunder. Their speech and breath did not violate the Eight Winds, the winds from the eight directions, and their bending, extending, advancing, and withdrawing did not depart from the Five Measures.

Those who attain the Dao do not casually display joy or anger, nor do they issue orders without thought. They take Heaven and Earth as their model and follow the regular courses of the sun and moon. Thus the winds of the eight directions do not become irregular, and the Five Planets do not stray from their courses.

They follow the people’s wishes and draw on the people’s strength to rid them of tyranny and harm. Those with shared interests will risk their lives for one another; those whose hearts are in accord will help one another flourish; and those with the same aspirations will support one another. When people act in accord with the Dao, all under Heaven will work together as one.

Those skilled in the use of arms can lead people to act according to their own wishes. Those unskilled in the use of arms can only make people do things for them. If you can lead people to act according to their own wishes, there is no one under Heaven you cannot put to use. If you only make people do things for you, no one will be truly useful.

An old commentary says: If you remove the harms that the people detest, then however many people there are under Heaven, they will willingly serve you. But if you go against their wishes, then even one person will not sincerely submit to you.

Wenzi: An Elucidation of Meaning, Volume Eight

Imperially Commissioned Complete Library of the Four Treasuries

Wenzi: An Elucidation of Meaning, Volume Nine, written by Du Daojian of the Song dynasty.

Chapter on Lower De

An old commentary says: The highest Dao is profound, empty, and utterly without trace. It therefore seems to be Wuwei (non-action), yet nothing is beyond its power to accomplish. By contrast, being able to settle oneself and nurture oneself well, to deal capably with things as they arise, to hold fast to the Great Dao without straying, and to persist in good conduct without changing—these belong to a lower level of De (Virtue/Power). This chapter, however, explains the meaning of lower De by drawing in particular on examples of the kinds of conduct associated with upper De.

Laozi says: In cultivating oneself, the highest approach is to nurture the Shen (spirit), keeping it calm and clear.

An old commentary says: When the spirit is calm and content, the body is naturally well cared for.

The next approach is to nurture the form, caring for the body.

An old commentary says: When the body is not overworked, the flesh and skin become full and healthy.

A clear spirit, a peaceful mind, and calm throughout the body—these are the foundation of nurturing life.

An old commentary says: The spirit is undisturbed and the body is not overworked; this is therefore the foundation for cultivating both body and mind.

Making the flesh full, filling the belly, and satisfying the appetite—these are the lesser aspects of nurturing life.

An old commentary says: If one limits the care of the body to this and does not also maintain clarity of spirit and peace of mind, it can only count as the lesser aspect of nurturing life.

Governing the state—

An old commentary says: Here the text discusses the principles of governing a state.

The highest approach is to nurture transformation: to cultivate and teach so that the myriad things transform naturally.

In ancient times, governing a country rested above all on cultivating moral teaching; only after that came the task of putting laws and ordinances in order.

The people yielded to one another, each striving to take the lower position. When it came to wealth and gain, each strove to take less. When faced with duties and labor, each strove to shoulder the harder part. Day by day, the people were taught and gradually became good, yet they did not know why they had changed. This was the foundation of governing a country.

The sage put himself in order and led by example. Each day, the people were influenced in their daily lives and gradually became good, yet they did not know the reason. They simply came to be so of themselves.

To encourage people to do good with benefits and rewards, and to use punishments to make them afraid to break the law: when the ruler’s ordinances are strict, the people below obey. This is the last resort in governing a country. A ruler who governs by these means, and whose ministers inherit their offices from one generation to the next, will find them all competing to stay on guard and maintain the laws. That is why this is called the way of governing at the end of the scale.

In ancient times, people focused on nurturing the root; later generations concentrated on dealing with the branches.

The Zan Yi says: This is a lower grade of rule by virtue. The highest approach is to nurture the spirit; this is the root of self-cultivation. Next is to preserve the body; this is the branch of self-cultivation. Governing a country is the same: the highest approach is to nourish the people through teaching; this is the root of governance. Next is to put laws and ordinances in order; this is its branch. Below that are methods even less worthy than this kind of rule by virtue.

Laozi says: Rulers capable of governing a country well are rare in the world, and ministers worthy to govern alongside such rulers are rarer still—one in ten thousand. Since one must seek both a sage ruler, rare in the world, and a worthy minister, scarcely found among ten thousand, a time of great peace and perfect order appears only once in a thousand years.

An old commentary says: A sage is born perhaps once every thousand years, and a worthy person appears once every five hundred. For a sage and a worthy person to share the same virtue and meet at the same time is rare in the world. Some also say that when a ruler is wise, worthy ministers appear; and worthy ministers can help a ruler attain the stature of Yao and Shun. Yet if rain falls from Heaven and the earth’s Qi cannot respond, even fertile land may suffer drought or flood. If harmony between Heaven and Earth is not always assured, how can ruler and minister always share one mind and one virtue? From this we can see how difficult it is to encounter an age of great peace and perfect order.

The achievements of a hegemon or a king cannot be established again and again from one generation to the next.

An old commentary says: The path to becoming a hegemon or a king cannot be passed down and repeated without end.

By following the people’s inclination toward goodness and preventing evil thoughts from taking root, ruler and people can follow the same Way. Then the people will become good, and customs will grow refined and wholesome.

An old commentary says: Support good thoughts and prevent wrong ones without relying on posted laws to restrain the people. When ruler and people follow the same Way, the people gradually change in their daily lives without knowing they have been taught. This is to grasp the foundation of governance and bring good rule to its fullest perfection.

What makes the sage worthy is not waiting for crimes to occur before imposing punishments, but understanding where disorder and calamity begin.

An ancient commentary says that the Sage takes nurturing good intentions and dispelling evil as guiding principles. Rather than relying on laws to impose restrictions, the Sage allows people to follow the right path naturally, so that they are transformed through daily life without even realizing it. This is the foundation of good governance and the way to bring benevolent rule to its fullest expression.

What makes the Sage admirable is not the ability to devise punishments after crimes have occurred, but the understanding of where disorder first takes root. An ancient commentary says that the most important task of governance is to guard against disorder before it becomes visible.

If the first signs of evil are allowed to grow, and deviant and licentious conduct is indulged, then laws and punishments will be applied only after trouble has arisen. But even if everyone under Heaven were harmed, such measures could not put an end to corruption and wickedness.

An ancient commentary says that if we do not address disorder at its roots, but wait until people are bound to go astray before restraining them, it is like trying to put out a fire while carrying armfuls of firewood: we only feed the flames.

The “Collected Meaning” commentary says that a wise ruler and a worthy minister who are perfectly matched are a rare meeting, one that may occur only once in a thousand years. A sagacious ruler does not appear in every age, and worthy ministers are scarce; rarer still is an exceptional ruler meeting a minister of unmatched ability. Since the time of Tang Yao and Yu Shun, examples such as King Tang of Shang finding Yi Yin, or King Wen of Zhou finding Lü Wang, have been few. Duke Huan of Qi receiving the counsel of Guan Zhong was just as unusual. Thus, days of peace under Heaven are few, while days of disorder are many. Perhaps this is because there are few noble people and many petty ones.

The Laozi says: “One who lives by the rivers and seas, yet keeps the court in mind, still values life; one who values life will regard fame and profit lightly.” The Wei Que was a raised platform outside the palace gates and often served as a name for the court. An ancient commentary says that someone who has not yet forgotten worldly honors, but can nevertheless dwell in a quiet and open place, may be called one who values life and regards fame and profit lightly.

If you cannot overcome your own mind, follow it; then your spirit will not be harmed. An ancient commentary says that someone who struggles inwardly but cannot prevail should act according to their own wishes, and can still avoid damaging their life.

If you cannot overcome your own mind, yet force it down and refuse to follow it, this is called “grave injury.” One who has suffered grave injury can no longer be counted among those who live long. An ancient commentary says that if someone has not let go of worldly concerns but forces themselves into stillness, they will further damage their life. A life gravely injured in this way is unlikely to be long.

Therefore it is said: “To know how to harmonize is called constancy. To know the constant Dao is called clarity. To augment life is auspicious; when the mind drives the breath to move by force, this is called striving.” An ancient commentary says that one who can loosen the emotions and follow the heart comes close to knowing how to harmonize; to hold to one’s proper place is to understand one’s circumstances. The same applies to nourishing life and harmonizing the breath. Further, if one can receive the harmonious Qi of Heaven and Earth and use it to cultivate enduring De, one can understand that life and death run through one another as a single whole. One may live a long life without being bound by life and death; this is the openness and clarity of one’s innate nature.

This is called “mysterious union”: using one’s own light and ultimately returning to inner illumination.

The Wenzi zuanyi holds that a person may enter public service or live in seclusion, but the Dao itself undergoes no change of advance or retreat, of bending or straightening. Even while living among rivers and lakes or working the fields, one does not forget the court and the state; even in old age and physical decline, one’s spirit does not perish. This reflects a nature that is open and clear.

This is called “mysterious unity” (xuántóng): using one’s own light, then returning to inner clarity. A truly realized person lives by this principle in seclusion, stopping when the time calls for stopping and acting when the time calls for action. This is mysterious unity.

Laozi says that nothing in the world is easier than doing good, and nothing is harder than doing evil. Doing good means remaining calm and not acting recklessly, following what is reasonable, letting go of excessive desires, and resisting the lure of external things. It means following one’s nature, preserving one’s true nature, and not changing what one is. That is why doing good is easy. An old commentary says that so long as one does not go beyond what one’s nature can manage, how could doing good be difficult?

Doing evil is difficult because killing, affectation and deceit, agitation, and excessive desire all go against human nature. That is why doing evil is, in a sense, harder. The old commentary says that evil goes beyond what is natural and ordinary, so of course it is not easy. Following the Dao brings good fortune and ease; going against it brings danger and hardship.

People today regard their greatest troubles as arising from desires without limit and from acting without restraint. The old commentary says that rash action invites trouble; when people act without ever feeling satisfied, their troubles naturally grow great. For this reason, where benefit and harm intersect and fortune and misfortune meet at a boundary, one must observe with care. The sage neither covets nor deliberately avoids. The old commentary explains that when there is nothing one wants to obtain, there is also nothing one must avoid.

Sometimes, single-mindedly trying to obtain something leads precisely to its loss; sometimes, deliberately avoiding something leads straight to encountering it. The old commentary gives the examples of trying to preserve one’s life but instead harming it, and trying to avoid misfortune but instead meeting it.

Once the mind becomes fixated on a particular desire, it forgets what it originally meant to do. The old commentary compares this to grabbing gold: in the very act of snatching it, a person pays no attention to those nearby and forgets how to approach or withdraw.

So the sage carefully attends to the changes between movement and stillness, measures taking and giving appropriately, regulates feelings of affection and aversion, and restrains joy and anger. When movement and stillness are well timed, trouble cannot intrude. When taking and giving are properly proportioned, blame does not attach to oneself. The old commentary says that when one’s actions accord with one’s abilities, blame no longer weighs upon one. When affection and aversion are handled well, worries do not draw near.

Only when choices are made with discernment and rewards and punishments are fair will immediate troubles be avoided. If joy and anger are kept in check, resentment will not turn against you. When rewards and punishments follow clear standards, people will not harbor grievances.

Goodness and evil take different forms, yet both arise from the human heart. Nothing in the world is easier than doing good, and nothing is harder than doing what is not good. Signs of fortune and calamity are often hidden within events: what one hopes to gain may instead be lost, while what one hopes to avoid may instead come to pass. Therefore, the sage observes how action and stillness change, and brings feelings of joy and anger into balance. When everything is handled well, what is there to worry about or resent?

One who embodies the Dao (the Way) neither grasps after things by improper means nor shuns misfortune. What does not belong to them, they do not take as their own; what does belong to them, they do not cast aside carelessly. An old commentary says this means responding to whatever comes: one does not yield what has already arrived, nor force what has yet to come.

Those who are always content do not overflow; those whose hearts remain empty find it easy to be content. An old commentary says this is because they know contentment.

Thus, one should measure oneself by the arts of the Dao. Food need only satisfy hunger, and clothing need only ward off the cold. Once one has enough to eat and wear, that is sufficient. If one does not measure oneself by the arts of the Dao but devotes oneself to pursuing status, even the power to rule a state with ten thousand chariots may not bring happiness; even all the wealth in the world may not bring fulfillment. An old commentary says that resting in the Dao keeps desire within bounds, while indulging desire leaves it without end.

Therefore, the sage is calm in mind and settled in purpose, keeping the spirit within and remaining undeluded by external things. An old commentary says that without desire the mind is at peace, and without covetousness one’s purpose is settled.

There are methods for cultivating oneself and principles for conducting oneself in the world. One who embodies the Dao holds fast to their innate, constant nature and rests in their allotted place and in what is right. They eat only to satisfy hunger and dress only to ward off the cold. They neither grasp after things by improper means nor cast aside what they already have; they do not count on escaping misfortune by luck, nor recklessly pursue good fortune. When elevated, they are not complacent; when in hardship, they do not abandon their integrity. Resting in their natural, authentic state and accepting their allotted place, they can remain in lasting harmony with the Dao.

Laozi said, “To surpass others is to have strength; to overcome oneself is to be truly strong.” To be able to make others exert themselves must mean drawing on their strength. An old commentary says this refers to winning people’s trust through De (Virtue/Power) and being able to accept their constraints.

To draw on the strength of others, one must have won their hearts; to win their hearts, one must first be able to govern oneself. No one has ever failed to master themselves and yet won people’s hearts, nor lost mastery of themselves and yet gained people’s hearts.

The foundation of governing a state is to keep the people secure. The foundation of keeping them secure is to ensure that their daily necessities are abundant. To ensure abundant supplies, one must not disrupt the agricultural seasons.

An old commentary says that “the seasons” refers to the times for spring plowing, summer tending, and autumn harvest.

The key to not disrupting the agricultural seasons is to set fewer things in motion. The key to setting fewer things in motion is to spend less. The key to spending less is to cast off extravagance and arrogance.

An old commentary says that “casting off arrogance” means keeping everything within due measure.

The foundation of casting off extravagance and arrogance is emptiness, stillness, and Wuwei (non-action)—remaining humble and calm, and refraining from acting without cause.

An old commentary says the foundation is to keep an empty mind and practice Wuwei, using this to guide one’s ministers. This means more than merely limiting expenditures and caring for the people.

Those who understand the nature of life do not pursue what life cannot provide. Those who understand the limits of fate do not grieve over what fate cannot change.

An old commentary says that human life has its own limits. Understanding this removes worry, allowing one to preserve life fully and follow the course of fate.

The eyes greedily seek the five colors—blue-green, yellow, red, white, and black; the mouth craves rich flavors; the ears are immersed in the five tones—gong, shang, jue, zhi, and yu. The seven orifices compete with one another, harming one’s innate nature. Perverse desires grow day by day, draining the harmony endowed by Heaven. If one cannot even govern oneself, how can one govern all under Heaven?

An old commentary says that someone who is already overwhelmed cannot attend to things outside himself, much less govern all under Heaven.

The Zanyi says: To surpass others, first surpass yourself. If you cannot restrain yourself, you cannot surpass others. Surpassing others depends on strength; when desire seeks victory, it relies on the strength of others. Overcoming yourself depends on reason; when reason can overcome desire, you can win people’s hearts. Once people’s hearts are won, they willingly offer their strength. If you merely drive others through desire, they will first turn away in their hearts and abandon their De. This is the difference between the principle of Heaven and human desire.

To “gain all under Heaven” does not mean occupying a position of power or possessing an exalted title. It means winning the hearts of all under Heaven and gaining the strength of its people.

An old commentary says that such a person’s De shines in every direction, reaching both above and below, and the people cannot bear to oppose him.

If someone has only the title of king, facing south on the throne, but no one praises or supports him, then he has lost all under Heaven. So although Jie and Zhou were nominally kings, an old commentary says they had in fact lost the hearts and strength of the people.

Tang and Wu did not drive out Jie and Zhou by their own strength alone.

An old commentary says that Tang and Wu could not have driven out Jie and Zhou on their own. They followed the hearts of the people under Heaven and drew upon their strength.

When the Son of Heaven follows the Dao, the forces guarding the borders are the peoples of the four quarters. When the Son of Heaven loses the Dao, the only forces left to defend him are the feudal lords.

The ancient commentary says that “guarding” means preserving and protecting. When a ruler follows the Dao, the country’s bulwark lies among the distant foreign peoples; when the ruler loses the Dao, that bulwark falls into the hands of his ministers.

The feudal lords could overthrow tyrants such as Jie and Zhou by force because they followed the will of the people and drew upon their strength.

When the Son of Heaven follows the Dao, the bulwark lies among the foreign peoples in the four directions; when he loses the Dao, it lies with the feudal lords.

The ancient commentary says that “guarding” means preserving and protecting. When a ruler follows the Dao, the country’s bulwark lies among the distant foreign peoples; when the ruler loses the Dao, that bulwark falls into the hands of his ministers.

When a feudal lord follows the Dao, the bulwark lies within his four borders; when he loses the Dao, it lies with the close attendants at his side.

The ancient commentary says that unless one supports the royal house with benevolence and righteousness and extends kindness to those nearby, even people as close as liver and gallbladder will grow as distant from one another as the states of Chu and Yue.

So it says: “Do not count on others not taking what is yours; make yourself so firmly grounded that it cannot be taken.”

The ancient commentary says that if one’s virtue is not enough to rely on, one cannot expect others not to take what one has. Follow the Dao, and what is yours will naturally not be taken.

If one follows a path that makes one easy to dispossess, then even a lifetime without usurping the throne or killing one’s ruler will do nothing to preserve all under Heaven.

The ancient commentary says that if one occupies a position that makes one easy to dispossess, then even a lifetime without usurping the throne or killing one’s ruler is not enough to safeguard the nation’s sacred treasure—the emblem of imperial authority, which also refers to the throne and the state.

The Zanyì says: “Treat me well, and I will support you; mistreat me, and I will become your enemy.” The sage can move the hearts of all under Heaven and win their strength, and so all under Heaven can be brought to peace. Though Jie and Zhou were rulers bearing the title of sovereigns, not one person praised them. This is why Tang of Shang and King Wu of Zhou refused to serve them as ministers. When the Son of Heaven loses the Dao, the feudal lords become the bulwark of the state. Whose fault is that?

The Laozi says: “Those skilled at governing a state do not alter its established laws or go against its enduring way.”

The ancient commentary says this means governing in accordance with the existing order.

To give way to anger is to violate virtue. Weapons are inauspicious things, and conflict throws people into disorder. To scheme in secret is to violate virtue; to delight in using deadly weapons to deal with disorder is a grave departure from the Way of governance.

The ancient commentary says this refers to failing to follow the proper way of governing people.

One cannot bring about calamity without inflicting harm on others.

The ancient commentary says this means giving oneself free rein to do such things.

Better to blunt one’s sharpness, untangle disputes, temper one’s radiance, and mingle with the dust of the world.

The ancient commentary says to put away fierce, sharp weapons and undo the knots of turmoil in the heart; to let one’s radiance harmonize with all things, blend into the dust of the everyday world, and follow change.

People naturally wish to be better than others and dislike being inferior to them.

The ancient commentary says this is simply human nature.

When the worthy think themselves superior to others, a desire to outdo them gives rise to envy and resentment. When they think themselves inferior, resentment and strife arise. An old commentary says that harboring envy and resentment in the heart leads to more grievances and disputes. Once disputes arise, the heart becomes unsettled and Qi (vital energy) flows against its proper course. The old commentary says that Qi is in accord when it is calm and unobstructed.

For this reason, the sage kings of antiquity did not exalt the worthy or stir up the desire to compete, and so resentment and strife did not arise. An old commentary says this is what “not exalting the worthy” means. People’s hearts were settled and their breath flowed smoothly. Hence the saying: “Do not exalt the worthy, and the people will not contend.”

The Zanyu says: What can be gained through contention is limited, while what can be accommodated through yielding is much greater. This is how both oneself and others can be kept whole. Anger goes against De (Virtue/Power), and weapons are inauspicious things; contention plunges people into disorder. To harbor schemes, violate De, and then rely on deadly weapons to bring disorder under control is to drive disorder to its extreme. Wenzi once explained this principle to Fan Li, a minister of the state of Yue during the Spring and Autumn period. When Yue planned to attack Wu, Fan Li quoted these words to remonstrate with Goujian. Goujian did not heed him and was ultimately defeated at Fujiao. From this we can see that seeking to harm others may end in bringing harm upon oneself. How could the worthy be willing to act this way?

Laozi says that governing the myriad things does not mean ruling them by force; it means treating them with harmony. An old commentary says that only by meeting the myriad things with a harmonious spirit can they be governed.

Bringing things into harmony does not depend solely on external methods of reconciliation; it requires that each person be placed where they belong. An old commentary says that when each person occupies a fitting place, harmony follows naturally.

Governing the people does not mean treating them as objects to be manipulated; it depends on the ruler putting himself in order. An old commentary says that the ruler is like the head of the body: when the head is upright, the limbs can each settle into their proper place.

Governing the ruler begins with the desires in his heart. An old commentary says that without selfish desires, the ruler can put himself in order; when he is in order, the whole world follows suit.

Governing desire does not mean using one desire to restrain another; it means returning to human nature. An old commentary says that restoring one’s nature loosens the heart’s restraints. Using desire to eliminate desire is like using one thing to stop another.

Cultivating one’s nature does not mean clinging to the concept of “nature”; it means relying on De. An old commentary says that if one does not lose one’s nature, nothing is beyond one’s reach. When one’s nature is whole, De has a foundation.

Cultivating De, too, does not mean clinging to the concept of “De”; it means taking the Dao (the Way) as one’s root. An old commentary says that not losing De is what it truly means to have De; dwelling within the Dao at its highest, De arises naturally.

When the Dao is taken as one’s root, human nature does not become skewed. If one remains immersed in external things for a long time, one forgets one’s source; having forgotten it, one mistakes acquired habits for one’s own nature. An old commentary says that people abandon the root of simple, authentic nature, then mistake desires acquired through outside influence for their nature.

Clothing, food, and social customs are not part of human nature; they are things obtained from outside. An old commentary says that all these lie beyond the scope of what nature bestows.

Human nature naturally seeks peace and balance, but strong desires make people forget their own nature. Once they have forgotten it, they identify with things that go against it. The old commentary says that people abandon the root of simplicity and authenticity, then mistake desires shaped by custom for their nature.

Clothing, food, ritual, and custom are not part of human nature; they are taken in from the outside. The old commentary says that all these things lie beyond what nature holds inherently.

Human nature, then, naturally tends toward peace and balance, while strong desires harm it. Only those who understand the Dao can set external things aside and return to themselves. The old commentary says this is the restoration of nature.

If people use the Dao to observe themselves, they will not mistake the true character of external things. If they cannot observe in this way, they will become confused as soon as something moves them. The old commentary says that observing through the Dao keeps the original nature of the myriad things from being obscured. Without this, the arrival of external things confuses people, and their actions can easily lose what is right.

Indulging desire harms nature and makes it difficult to act rightly. To govern oneself in this state is to harm oneself; to govern a state in this way is to plunge its people into disorder. Those who do not understand the Dao have no way to return to their nature. The old commentary cites “Returning is the movement of the Dao,” meaning that returning to one’s original authenticity is the work of the Dao.

The Zan Yi says that nature and desire are distinct from the outset, and this is true of everyone, especially rulers. In governing the myriad things, one should not be led along by them, but should put peace and balance first: first understand one’s own nature, then understand the nature of the myriad things. Only by understanding their nature can one assist Heaven and Earth in nurturing and transforming them, and take part in creation alongside Heaven and Earth.

The sages of antiquity sought the root within themselves. As a result, when they issued an order, people followed it; when they established a prohibition, people stopped. The old commentary says that when a person is upright within, things proceed smoothly even without commands.

Whenever one undertakes something, one must first quiet the mind and clarify the spirit. When the spirit is clear and the mind at peace, things can be handled well. The old commentary says that a clear mind and spirit can observe things like a bright mirror; a peaceful mind can set things right and see that each matter is handled thoroughly and well.

If, while listening to people speak, one is caught up in judgments of right and wrong, praise and blame, and one’s eyes are dazzled by bright colors, it is difficult to handle matters well. The old commentary says: listening to all this talk of right and wrong and looking at richly decorated clothing, one cannot even settle oneself—how, then, could one set external things right?

Therefore, what matters is preserving emptiness and stillness. The old commentary says that only when the heart is not filled up by external things can one respond to them without obstruction.

When water is struck, waves rise; when the breath is disturbed, wisdom grows clouded. A clouded mind cannot judge right and wrong, and agitated water cannot remain still. The old commentary says that a clouded mind cannot observe things, and rippling water cannot be calm. Once the water grows still, it becomes level and clear; once the mind is clear, it can judge appropriately.

Therefore, sage kings held fast to clarity, stillness, and peace as their foundation, using them to bring the nature of the myriad things into harmony. The old commentary says that by keeping to this principle of clarity and peace, one can understand and govern all kinds of things.

“One” is the most honored and purest fundamental principle. It takes no side and belongs to no fixed domain. Only by following this principle can a sage ruler govern the world. An old commentary says that one who is fixated on a particular orientation cannot be called honored. The sage ruler has no selfish desires, so how could he take sides? It is precisely because he favors no one side that each person finds their proper place, allowing the world to be taught and governed.

Thus, by grasping the One, the sage ruler can understand the patterns and nature of all things. An old commentary says that only the clear and impartial One enables people to understand the principles of the myriad kinds of things.

The Laozi says that Yin and Yang bring forth and nurture the myriad things, which all arise by riding the same primordial Qi (vital energy). An old commentary says that Heaven, Earth, and humanity—the Three Powers—are joined as one, and that harmonious Qi nurtures all things.

When ruler and ministers, superiors and subordinates, are divided in their intentions, Qi becomes blocked and rises upward. When ruler and ministers are at odds, the five grains cannot ripen in abundance. An old commentary says this happens because the accumulated and interconnected harmonious Qi has been disrupted.

A cold and harsh spring, lush growth in autumn, thunder in winter, and frost in summer are all caused by “adversarial Qi” that runs counter to the proper seasons. An old commentary says that Qi capable of harming the normal rhythms is called adversarial Qi.

Everything that happens between Heaven and Earth is like what happens within a person’s body. An old commentary says that all of this depends on the ruler’s instruction. The many forms within the Six Directions likewise correspond to the body of a single person. An old commentary says that every movement and expression of things elicits a response.

Therefore, one who understands their nature is not driven about by changes in Heaven and Earth; one who can discern signs is not bewildered by strange phenomena. The old commentary explains that understanding the responses of the wondrous nature, and knowing the signs and confirmations between Heaven and humanity, prevents fear and confusion in the face of strange occurrences.

The sage infers what is distant from what is near. An old commentary says that one can use oneself as a measure for external things. The sage can also bring the myriad differences back to their common principle. An old commentary says that this is achieved by investigating the patterns of things.

Harmonious Qi rises and spreads between Heaven and Earth. An old commentary says that balanced and harmonious Qi connects what is above and below.

If ritual, righteousness, integrity, and a sense of shame are not established, the people will harm one another. Cruelty will prevail as it did when Heaven and Earth had yet to separate and all was undifferentiated.

In high antiquity, those who followed the Dao in governing the world could resonate with the people’s hearts and bring about change naturally. They did not guide and restrain people through external rules, as ritual and morality do. The people were simple and ordinary. They did not know why they were as they were, yet naturally attained a good state.

Later, a sense of shame gradually declined, and the age declined along with it. People’s needs grew numerous, but goods were scarce; much labor was expended, yet the provisions people received were still insufficient. The people lived in poverty, and resentment and strife arose. Only then did people begin to value benevolence.

An old commentary says: This means temporarily relying on universal love to govern the people.

People’s hearts gradually became base and out of harmony with one another. They formed factions for private gain, each favoring those close to them, while harboring thoughts of cunning and deceit. Only then did people begin to value righteousness.

An old commentary says: Righteousness means judging and preventing improper conduct, bringing matters into accord with what is fitting, and thereby allowing all things to return to their proper place.

Men and women lived together without clear distinctions. Only then did people begin to value ritual.

An old commentary says: Ritual means restraining oneself and bringing one’s conduct into accord with proper standards, thereby putting human relationships in their proper order.

People indulged their nature, formed factions for private gain, each favoring those close to them, and harbored thoughts of cunning and deceit. Only then did people begin to value righteousness.

An old commentary says: Righteousness means judging and preventing improper conduct, bringing matters into accord with what is fitting, and thereby allowing all things to return to their proper place.

Men and women lived together without clear distinctions. Only then did people begin to value ritual.

An old commentary says: Ritual means restraining oneself and bringing one’s conduct into accord with proper standards, thereby putting human relationships in their proper order.

People’s dispositions and desires for life ran unchecked, and they pressed upon one another, as though all were acting under compulsion. Their hearts fell out of harmony, and only then did people begin to value music.

An old commentary says: Music harmonizes people’s hearts and calms their thoughts; it then transforms their hearts and changes customs.

Thus benevolence, righteousness, ritual, and music are all methods for rescuing a declining age. They are not the way to govern society at its roots, a way that runs through all under Heaven.

An old commentary says: These methods rescue the corruption caused by superficiality and excess, but they are not a way of governing the age that reaches through everything.

The Zanyi says: Heaven and Earth are like a single whole, and all things under Heaven arise from one Qi (vital energy). Yang Qi changes and Yin Qi transforms, and from this all things are born. The sage, too, should cherish and nurture the people, regarding everyone under Heaven as one family; only then can the world be at peace. If people’s needs are numerous, goods scarce, and their labor great while the provisions they receive remain insufficient, the people will live in poverty, and resentment and strife will arise. This is not a way of governing that reaches through all under Heaven.

If the divine spirit can be settled throughout the world, and people’s hearts can return to their original nature—

An old commentary says: This means transforming the people so that they return to their nature.

—then the people’s nature will incline toward goodness. When the people incline toward goodness, Heaven and Earth, Yin and Yang, will respond in harmony and embrace all things.

An old commentary says: Because one follows the Great Dao, one can attain universal reach.

In this way, goods will be plentiful and the people will live in abundance; greed, baseness, resentment, and strife will have no chance to arise.

People are content with their own nature and have everything they need to live, so they feel they lack nothing.

If benevolence and righteousness are not used to constrain and instruct them, virtue can still bring peace to the world, and the people will not become captivated by splendid colors.

An old commentary says: So long as people are not subjected to the deliberate embellishments of benevolence, righteousness, and moral teaching, the principles governing those above and below will be clear, and conduct will not go to excess. The virtue of ruler and subject will be simple and natural, with no need for adornment.

Thus, only after virtue declined did people begin to proclaim benevolence and righteousness.

An old commentary says: When De was lost, people spoke of benevolence; when benevolence was lost, they spoke of righteousness.

Only after harmony was lost did people begin to regulate musical tones.

An old commentary says: Seeking harmony by tuning the sounds shows that harmony has already been lost.

Only after ritual became excessive did people begin to adorn their bearing and conduct. An old commentary says: “Excessive” means going too far. When conduct departs from what is balanced and proper, people must deliberately refine their bearing.

Thus, only when one understands virtue does one realize that benevolence and righteousness are not always necessary; only when one understands benevolence and righteousness does one realize that ritual and music need not always be deliberately cultivated.

The Zanyi says: The sage makes principle clear through a sincere heart, guides people back to their original nature, and leads them to return to goodness. When the people’s nature is purely good, Heaven and Earth, Yin and Yang, can respond to one another and embrace the myriad things. When goods are abundant and the people live in comfort, greed and meanness do not arise, and resentment and strife subside. In this way, benevolence and righteousness need not be deliberately put into practice, and virtue can bring peace to the world.

Laozi says: Govern through stillness and Wuwei, with harmony and calm; be plain and upright, without adornment; be at ease and serene, without restlessness.

An old commentary says: Those without desires can often dwell in the mysterious Dao, and so their various virtues are naturally preserved.

Let the heart accord with the Dao, and let outward conduct accord with what is right.

An old commentary says: When the heart accords with the Dao, one handles external affairs with propriety and correctness.

Let speech be concise and follow reason; let conduct be joyful and accord with the feelings and principles inherent in one’s nature.

An old commentary says: Words that accord with reason are naturally concise; actions that follow the nature of things are naturally free-flowing.

Let the heart be peaceful and free of pretense; let actions be simple and unadorned.

An old commentary says: The heart is peaceful and outward conduct simple. When the heart is false, one’s actions become affected and ornate.

Do not deliberately scheme how things should begin, nor discuss their outcomes in advance. In stillness, remain still; when stirred, respond as the situation calls for.

An old commentary says: Set aside cunning and cleverness. Do not contrive through schemes, but act in response to what moves you.

Be in communion with Heaven and Earth, and share the same essence as Yin and Yang.

The sage sets aside clever schemes and cleverness, does not cling to personal opinions, and responds as things arise, adapting to them.

When people understand the principles of Heaven and Earth, share the essence and Qi of Yin-Yang, attune themselves to the four seasons, and perceive clearly like the sun and moon, they can harmonize with the transformations of the Great Dao and become truly aligned with the Way.

An old commentary says: A person’s body and mind do not belong to them alone; they accord with the Great Dao. Thus Heaven and Earth, the sun and moon, can also share in displaying the bright virtue.

When clever schemes and deceit are kept out of the heart, Heaven covers all things with De, and Earth bears all things in peace and ease. The four seasons proceed in proper order; wind and rain bring no calamities; the sun and moon shine with clear, quiet radiance; and the Five Planets—what the ancients called the planets of Metal, Wood, Water, Fire, and Earth—follow their regular courses. These are the effects of stillness and purity.

An old commentary says: Because of purity, stillness, and Wuwei, Heaven and Earth do not diminish their constant De.

The Zanyi says: Heaven is clear and Earth is still, and so they endure. When the sage governs the realm through purity and stillness, he models his rule on Heaven and Earth. A clear heart accords with the substance of the Great Dao; a settled body and mind allow one to live among others and understand them. Thus, even without leaving the gate, teaching can be put into practice.

Laozi says: “In an age of great peace, official posts are easy to maintain.”

An old commentary says: There are no disruptive affairs, so official posts are easy to maintain.

“Government affairs are also easy to manage.”

An old commentary says: The people are not disturbed, so affairs are easy to manage.

“Rituals are also easy to carry out.”

An old commentary says: There is no deliberate display or embellishment, so rituals are easy to carry out.

“Taxes and obligations are easy to pay.”

An old commentary says: The laws are lenient, so taxes and obligations are easy to pay.

Therefore, no one holds several official posts at once, and no official post oversees several kinds of affairs. Scholars, farmers, artisans, and merchants each have their own work; villages and prefectures each have their own sphere of governance.

An old commentary says: In this way, the various occupations do not encroach on one another’s proper roles.

Farmers speak with farmers about farming; scholars speak with scholars about virtue; artisans speak with artisans about their crafts; and merchants speak with merchants about measures, trade, and its returns.

Therefore, scholars do not neglect virtue, artisans have no tasks they cannot complete, farmers are not delayed in their work, and merchants suffer no losses of goods. Everyone can be at ease in their own nature and in what they do well.

An old commentary says: Each person acts in the way they are accustomed to and skilled at, and each is at ease with the appropriate season.

Though people differ in form and kind, and their work is not the same, everything proceeds smoothly without conflict.

An old commentary says: Though scholars, farmers, artisans, and merchants belong to different groups and follow different paths, each attends to their own affairs without causing disorder among the others.

Those who lose their occupation fall to a lower position; those who find their strengths and adapt to circumstances can rise to a higher one.

An old commentary says: Those who find their proper place naturally achieve something; those who lose it naturally suffer loss.

Those who can see ahead and perceive things deeply may be exceptionally talented, but a ruler who governs well should not make such abilities a standard for the people. Those with broad learning, strong memories, and eloquence may surpass others in knowledge and intelligence, but an enlightened ruler should not demand that everyone be like them. To look down on worldly conventions, disdain external things, and remain untouched by prevailing customs is a mark of noble character among scholars, but a ruler who governs well should not make it the standard for educating the people. What lies beyond the reach of ordinary people should not be used to measure everyone; conduct that is difficult to practice should not be established as a national custom.

An old commentary says: The Way of ultimate principle naturally brings customs toward unity. But if one only esteems the worthy and prizes wealth, rivalry and theft will arise.

People should not be chosen for their abilities by a single standard, because their natural endowments differ.

An old commentary says: The Dao can be realized in keeping with each person’s endowment. Techniques, by contrast, are methods that adhere to one particular approach while responding to myriad affairs, and so can be handed down for later generations to use.

The laws of a state can be made clear enough for the people to understand and obey, and a military’s actions can likewise be brought into line through shared rules.

An old commentary says: When a state unifies its customs, even people of ordinary ability can abide by the law. When a military unifies its regulations, its actions can be brought into order.

There is no need to wait for outstanding talents from antiquity to appear: the people can each put their abilities to use. This is because one works with the talents each person already has and draws together their strengths.

An old commentary says: In peaceful times, when little is done, both the worthy and those of ordinary ability can find their proper place and fulfill their roles.

In the declining age, laws set standards too high: even when people commit offenses, they may fail to meet the prescribed level of guilt. The burdens imposed on them are too heavy to bear, and the tasks demanded are too difficult to accomplish; then those who dare not attempt them are punished.

An old commentary says: This means imposing on the people responsibilities beyond ordinary human capacity. If the task is light, everyone can manage it; if it is easy, everyone will dare to do it.

Pressed by these three kinds of harsh demands, the people resort to clever schemes and deceive those above them, take crooked paths, and engage in dangerous acts.

An old commentary says: The people seek only to scrape by and escape punishment.

Even severe laws and punishments cannot put a stop to wrongdoing.

An old commentary says: This is because the people will find ways to evade punishment.

When wild animals are cornered, they attack people; when birds are cornered, they peck at them; when people are cornered, they deceive. This is the situation being described.

Talent must not surpass virtue, and words must not exceed deeds. When people of exceptional talent and foresight govern the world, they do not use those abilities to impose harsh demands on others. A wise ruler who is broadly learned and eloquent does not expect every minister to be just like him. If someone looks down on the world, behaves perversely, and then reproaches others by exacting standards—forcing them to do what he himself cannot—how could this be anything but deception that drives people into hardship?

Laozi said: The sound of thunder can be imitated with bells and drums; the changes of wind and rain can be apprehended through musical tones.

An old commentary says: Sounds and forms of this kind still lie within the range of human senses.

Whatever is large enough to be seen can be measured. Whatever is bright enough to be seen can be obscured. Whatever can be heard can be harmonized. Whatever color can be discerned can be distinguished.

An old commentary says: All these things lie within definite limits.

But what is supremely vast cannot be contained even by Heaven and Earth; what is supremely subtle cannot be fully comprehended even by the spirits.

An old commentary says: This refers to ancient times, when the Dao’s essence was undivided and the workings of De were subtle and profound.

Later, people established calendars, distinguished the five colors—blue-green, red, yellow, white, and black—and differentiated clear from turbid, sweet from bitter. The undivided simplicity was thus dispersed, giving rise to particular objects and things.

An old commentary says: Once the five colors were distinguished and the six pitch standards of antiquity were differentiated, the state that had originally been one undivided whole dispersed, and each part began to serve a different function.

When benevolence and righteousness were established, and ritual and music cultivated, De changed from something naturally received into something contrived by human effort.

An old commentary says: De originally belonged naturally to people. But now De depends on outward embellishment—how could that not be false?

The people embellish their intelligence with clever devices, thereby bewildering the ignorant. They also devise schemes of deception to attack those in high positions. Even if someone in the world could sustain such practices, that would not necessarily mean the world was well governed.

An old commentary says: The point is that even if such a state of affairs could be maintained, it could not be considered true governance.

The more clever devices there are, the more readily virtue strays from the right path. Therefore, those who attain the highest state preserve their natural simplicity and do not let their original nature become dispersed.

The Zanyi says: The sage analyzes undivided simplicity, takes Heaven and Earth as a model, and observes the forms of nature; on this basis, he makes implements. The correspondences between thunder and bells and drums, and between wind and rain and musical tones, all arise from imitation through observed forms. Yet the vastness of Heaven and Earth and the subtlety of the spirits still cannot be probed completely. Only a perfected person who preserves natural simplicity and does not let the original nature become dispersed can serve as a teacher for all generations.

The perfected person, whose cultivation has reached a high level, governs the world with a mind that is empty, still, and free from the lure of external things. His mind and spirit remain joined; his body and nature are in harmony; and the inner and outer flow freely together.

In stillness, he embodies De; in action, he understands how things work. He follows the natural Way and acts only when there is no alternative. He responds only after something has moved him to do so.

He remains detached and practices Wuwei (non-action), and the world naturally settles into harmony. He is quiet and free of desire, and the people naturally become simple and sincere. When people are not made to compete, goods become plentiful. Those who give do not claim credit for their kindness, and those who receive do not refuse it. De then returns to the people as a whole, though no one feels that they have shown kindness.

He does not argue with words, yet he can discern clearly. He does not deliberately explain principles, yet they become clear of themselves. To understand and put this state into practice is to be called the “Heavenly Treasury,” like a storehouse containing the Great Dao. To guide the people from within this Dao is to share De with them.

One may draw on it without diminishing it, and draw from it without exhausting it; no one knows where it comes from. This is called “Shaking Light,” the name of the star at the tip of the Dipper’s handle, used here to refer to the activity of the Dao. Shaking Light nourishes all things, and drawing on it never exhausts it, because no one knows where it comes from.

The Dao nourishes and brings all things to completion, so it is called the sustenance of all things. The Northern Culmen, or Pole Star, is the honored star in the heavens. It rests at the center of the sky, with the other stars circling around it. The perfected person follows this model in governing the world: he keeps mind and spirit joined and remains detached, practicing Wuwei, so that the world settles into harmony. Shaking Light lies at the handle of the Northern Dipper and nourishes all things as the heavens turn to the left. If the Dipper did not turn and the seasons fell out of order, the people would have no food. Shun observed the jade instrument of the rotating heavens, used to set the movements of the sun, moon, and stars in order. He may be said to have understood the Way of Heaven.

Laozi said, “Heaven treasures its vital essence, Earth treasures its evenness, and human beings treasure their own nature and feelings.”

“Treasure” means to value. Heaven’s vital essence refers to the sun, moon, and stars, as well as thunder, wind, and rain. Earth’s evenness refers to the Five Phases: Water, Fire, Metal, Wood, and Earth. Heaven spreads the essence of the six Qi; Earth distributes the balance of the Five Phases.

Human nature and feelings include thought, intelligence, and emotions such as joy and anger. Therefore, close the gates of the senses and desires, and stop the five activities that disturb one’s nature. Let mind and spirit unite with the Dao, let the spirit rest in what has no form, and let vital essence return to its original state.

An old commentary says that the “four gates” are the ears, eyes, nose, and mouth, while the “five deviations” are five kinds of emotional states that depart from one’s nature. If one can restrain the activity of the ears, eyes, nose, and mouth and quiet the reckless movement of emotions, one can connect with the Dao and preserve the Shen and Qi. To “close the four gates and stop the five deviations” means allowing the spirit to remain hidden in the formless and letting Jing and Qi return to their true state.

The eyes may be bright without looking at whatever they please; the ears may be keen without listening to whatever they please. Speech may be appropriate without speaking at will, and the mind may be clear without falling into excessive thought. Let yourself accord with the true state of your nature and life, and do not show off your knowledge. Then things in the outside world will be unable to harm you.

An old commentary says that in this way, one is not worn down by being led and used by external things, nor tormented inwardly as if by ice and fire.

When Jing and Qi reside in the eyes, they make sight clear; when they reside in the ears, they make hearing keen; when they reside in the mouth, they make speech appropriate; when they gather in the heart, they make thought clear.

An old commentary says: If cultivating the mind can bring one close to this state, how much more so when Jing and Qi are able to dwell there in peace?

Thus, by restraining the activity of the ears, eyes, nose, and mouth, one can have few troubles throughout life. When the limbs and the nine apertures—the body’s sensory openings—are neither injured by reckless activity nor fixated on life and death, this is called being a “True Person,” someone who has attained the Daoist ideal. An old commentary explains that “neither dying nor being born” here means not being harmed by either the abandonment or the forced use of bodily functions. The True Person simply keeps Jing and Qi unified, with pure, harmonious Qi flowing through the limbs and apertures.

The things produced by the earth ultimately depend on the Five Phases: Metal, Wood, Water, Fire, and Earth. When sages regulate the Five Phases, they govern things properly and prevent the myriad beings from falling into ruin. An old commentary says that the Qi received at birth is related to the Five Phases. When rulers model themselves on the patterns of the Five Phases, the myriad things do not overcome and harm one another.

The Zanyi says: Human beings have five innate natures, corresponding to the five stars in the heavens; the myriad things on earth, meanwhile, are formed from the Five Phases. When the five human natures become active, they give rise to the seven emotions—joy, anger, sorrow, fear, love, aversion, and desire. These feelings show themselves through the body, so how could one fail to understand the need to care for oneself? Shen is stored in the heart, Jing in the kidneys, the hun in the liver, the po in the lungs, and intention in the spleen. When the spirit remains hidden in the formless and does not cling to life and death, this is called being a True Person.

Laozi said: A balance weighs the objects on either side without favoring either the heavier or lighter; in this way, it can be fair. A carpenter’s line straightens the lines inside and out without favoring either what is crooked or what is straight; in this way, it can make things true. When a ruler acts according to the law, neither favoring anyone nor hating anyone, the laws and commands can become standards for all under Heaven to follow.

An old commentary says: “Mandate” means an order of government. If one has no selfish motives, one can set the world right.

Do not establish a private reputation for virtue, and do not harbor private resentment. To act in this way is to follow the Dao and accord with the human heart.

The old commentary holds that those who set aside the Great Dao and chase after things all end up in the same place. If one can be free of selfishness and follow the Great Dao, where would there be any distinction between kindness and resentment?

Therefore, those who govern a state should not act solely on the strength of their own cleverness and skill.

The old commentary says that acting through cleverness alone is not appropriate.

The force of water can overturn a boat, and a blow from wood can break an axle. People do not blame the wood or stone; they blame the boatman or driver for lacking skill, because they failed to judge the proper measure in their actions. The old commentary says that those without private aims do not invite resentment, while those who rely on cleverness alone do not necessarily achieve good results.

Thus, when cleverness is mixed into the Great Dao, it falls into disorder; when selfishness enters one’s virtue, it is endangered; and when the mind clings to distinctions, it becomes confused. The old commentary explains that cleverness disrupts the Way of Wuwei (non-action), selfishness endangers the virtue of peaceful self-possession, and attachment to distinctions obscures a mind that is clear and unadorned.

Once the balance for weighing and the compass and square for drawing circles and squares are established, they can remain unchanged for a long time. Hold to the constant Way, and actions will not go astray. It works every day yet can be passed down through generations: this is accomplishing things through Wuwei.

The old commentary says that “the One” refers to Wuwei. Rulers throughout the ages can put it to use and pass it down through ten thousand generations without change. Those who are free of private feelings and respond to the myriad things according to the constant Way may attend to affairs all day long, yet they do not cling to acting for the sake of action. This is the foundation of governance at its highest: uprightness guided by a constant Way. Otherwise, how could balances and standards of measurement be established for a moment and remain unchanged for ten thousand generations?

The Zanyi says that when people harbor selfishness, they inevitably harm the Great Dao. When a ruler has no private aims, laws can be unified and orders carried out. When selfishness enters virtue, it is endangered; when the mind becomes attached to a particular view, it is confused. To understand that balances, compasses, and squares endure once established is to understand the principle of “accomplishing things through Wuwei.” Rulers throughout the ages can put this principle to use and pass it down through ten thousand generations.

People often say, “A state may have rulers who bring about its ruin, but the world has no Great Dao that can perish.”

The old commentary says that the Great Dao does not change with the times; it simply depends on people to make it flourish.

Even when people encounter hardship, there is no principle that cannot be understood.

The old commentary says that if people can investigate the principles of things thoroughly, no principle will remain beyond their understanding.

Therefore, Wuwei is the foundation of the Great Dao. Once one grasps that foundation, one can respond to endless change.

The old commentary says that when the mind holds no private thoughts, one can move together with the myriad things without ever being depleted.

Thus, if one does not follow the patterns of the Great Dao and acts only through one’s own abilities, hardship will soon arrive.

The old commentary adds that only those who do not rely exclusively on themselves, but follow the natural principles of things, can remain at ease without knowing where hardship ends.

A ruler can understand the world without leaving the palace gate because he learns about things by examining them and understands people by observing them. The old commentary says that the ruler takes Wuwei (non-action)—following the natural patterns of things without imposing needless interference—as his foundation. Only then can he act in accordance with circumstances. By reasoning from the principles of things, he can understand the state of the world.

Whatever the combined strength of many people can lift is impossible to leave unlifted; whatever they undertake with their combined wisdom is impossible to leave undone. An army of a thousand will not run out of provisions, and a multitude of ten thousand will not let its work fall into disrepair.

The old commentary says that a ruler can govern the world through the strength of the people only by refraining from taking every matter into his own hands. If he loses the principle of following circumstances and making use of people’s abilities, his own wisdom will be exhausted and his affairs will fall into ruin.

Artisans do not practice several different crafts, and officials do not hold several posts at once. Each person keeps to their own duties without interfering with others. People can do the work suited to them, and things can each serve their proper use. Thus tools are not shoddy, and duties are not neglected.

The old commentary says that when each thing is used to its full capacity, nothing is deprived of its proper place.

When debts are few, they are easy to repay. The old commentary says that mistakes in one’s actions are also easy to put right.

When duties are few, they are easy to perform well. The old commentary says that simple affairs are easy to complete.

When burdens are light, people can devote themselves to their work. The old commentary says that when one has strength to spare, one can act with ease.

The ruler holds to the principle of simplicity, while his ministers devote themselves to tasks that are easy to accomplish. In this way, ruler and ministers remain together for a long time without growing weary of one another. The old commentary says that the Way of simplicity can bring great undertakings to completion and be practiced over the long term.

The Zuanyi says: Heaven is not called Heaven by its own doing; it is so called because something makes it Heaven. Earth, too, is not called Earth by its own doing, but because something makes it Earth. Who, then, brings this about? A state may lose its ruler, but the principles of the world do not perish. Yi Yin repeatedly went to the court of Jie of Xia seeking office, but was never appointed. This was because he relied solely on his own abilities and did not understand the principle of acting in accordance with others. So Yi Yin did not serve the Xia, but instead went on to assist Tang of Shang. Could the Xia fail to fall, and could Tang fail to prosper?

Laozi says, “The emperors and kings take the Great One (Taiyi)—the root and source of the Dao—as their embodiment.” The old commentary says that to embody and follow the Great One is to follow the Way of the True One.

“The king takes Yin-Yang as his model.” The old commentary says that he models himself on the patterns by which Yin and Yang harmonize and transform the myriad things.

“The hegemon takes the four seasons as his model.” The old commentary says that he models himself on the changing seasons, such as spring and autumn, and issues lenient or strict decrees accordingly.

When a ruler applies the “Six Lü”—the six ancient yang pitches used to match the Five Tones, harmonize musical notes, and thereby observe the Qi of the seasons—he can perceive the movement of the Great One (Taiyi), the source of all things and the Dao that encompasses the whole. He can understand the realities of Heaven and Earth and grasp the principles of Dao and De. An old commentary says that the Great One arises between Heaven and Earth and gathers the standards of Dao and De into itself.

The ruler’s intelligence shines through like the sun and moon, and his spirit reaches through all things. The old commentary says that nothing hidden escapes his sight, hence the comparison to the sun and moon; nothing subtle escapes his perception, hence the claim that his spirit reaches through all things.

The ruler’s movement and stillness accord with Yin-Yang, and his joy and anger harmonize with the four seasons. The old commentary says that movement without disorder and stillness without stagnation constitute harmony with Yin-Yang. To preserve spring’s gentleness and keep autumn from becoming harsh is to be in harmony with the seasons.

Heaven and Earth shelter and nourish all things through the movement of the Dao, which is vast, all-pervading, and impartial. The old commentary says that the cycle of sheltering and nourishing, with its changes and reversals, embodies the Dao.

From flying insects to crawling microorganisms, none can live without relying on the ruler’s De. The old commentary says that all things can flourish fully only when the Three Powers—Heaven, Earth, and humanity—are in harmony.

The ruler’s De extends beyond the four quarters, and his reputation carries into later generations. The old commentary says that if a ruler cultivates his own De fully, he will naturally become someone whom all praise.

To follow Yin-Yang is to receive the harmonious Qi of Heaven and Earth. In De, the ruler stands alongside Heaven and Earth; in brightness, he shines with the sun and moon; in spirit, he shares the subtle power of ghosts and spirits, the unseen beings of the ancient world. The old commentary says that this is what it means for De to unite with Heaven, Earth, ghosts, and spirits and possess their numinous quality.

The ruler has the rounded vault of Heaven above his head and the square Earth beneath his feet. He holds the upright Way in his heart and acts in accordance with proper standards. The old commentary says that entering the upright Way requires taking Heaven and Earth as models in their forms and order.

Within, the ruler can cultivate and govern himself; outwardly, he can win the people’s hearts. Once he issues an order, all under Heaven obey as plants and trees bend in the wind. The old commentary says that this is like vegetation bowing before the wind.

In governing the state, the ruler should be like the four seasons: in spring, he brings forth the beginnings of life; in summer, he enables things to grow; in autumn, he gathers the harvest; in winter, he stores things away. Giving and taking must be measured, and expenditure and income kept within set limits. Joy and anger, firmness and gentleness must never depart from what is right. Be gentle without being weak, firm without being overbearing, generous without being permissive, and solemn without being harsh. With a mild and accommodating manner, nurture all things. The ruler’s De should embrace the foolish and the unworthy alike, without favoring either side. The old commentary says that only by possessing all these virtues can one fulfill the Way of the king and the hegemon. From this we can see that, if there were no sages in an imperial age, who could bear such responsibility?

The phrase “applying the Six Lü” also includes holding authority over life and death, reward and punishment, giving and taking away. Without these means of governance, there is no way to put the Way of government into practice.

Earlier commentaries explain that the key to governing a state lies in carrying out government in accordance with the six seasonal signs. Only when rewards and punishments are properly applied can everything be brought into its proper place. From this we can see that if an emperor lacks the abilities and virtue of a sage, who could govern the world in this way?

To apply the “six pitch standards”—the six yang pitches among the twelve ancient tones used to establish musical pitch, here serving as a metaphor for the principles of governance—is to carry out nurturing and killing, rewarding and punishing, giving and taking away. Governance cannot be separated from these principles.

Earlier commentaries explain that the key to governance lies in carrying out government in accordance with the six seasonal signs, and in administering rewards and punishments without going against the actual circumstances of things.

Punish those who rebel and prohibit violence; promote the worthy and dismiss the unworthy; correct what is crooked and set it straight; remove obstacles and make the road level; straighten what is bent. One must also understand the principles of giving and taking, opening and closing. By responding to the moment and acting in accordance with circumstances, one can bring people’s hearts into willing service.

Earlier commentaries explain that without principles of fairness and rectitude, one cannot govern the myriad things; without following the course of events, one cannot win people’s service.

The emperor—the ruler who governs the age—observes the changes of Yin-Yang and responds to affairs with ease.

Earlier commentaries explain that this is the Wuwei (non-action) De that originates in the Great One, the Daoist source of all things.

The king models the changes of the four seasons, adjusting punishments and rewards to the time so that the affairs of the people are brought into order.

Earlier commentaries explain that this means adjusting punishments and rewards in accordance with the seasons, so that governance is suited to the circumstances.

The hegemon applies the six pitch standards, governing by means of established principles.

When a ruler loses his guiding principles, he declines. If his position or domain is small but he undertakes great responsibilities, he will be strained and obstructed, unable to gain the closeness and support of others.

Earlier commentaries explain that this happens when one’s abilities do not match one’s position, making it impossible to fulfill its demands.

If one’s domain is vast but one undertakes only small tasks, one will seem narrow-minded and unable to accommodate the many.

Earlier commentaries explain that this happens when there is no opportunity to put one’s virtue to use.

Why does the Zanyu Yi not use the title “August Sovereign,” but instead speak of emperors, kings, hegemons, and rulers? It does so to honor the August Sovereign. When the emperor loses the Dao, people then speak of De; when the king loses De, they then speak of benevolence; when the hegemon loses benevolence, they then speak of righteousness; when the ruler loses righteousness, they then speak of ritual. When the greater principles are established, the lesser principles are included within them. When the lesser principles are established on their own, the greater principles are lost.

Laozi says that a vast territory and a large population are not enough to make a strong state.

Earlier commentaries explain that when the Dao is lost, the people become its enemy.

Nor are strong armor and sharp weapons enough to guarantee victory.

Earlier commentaries explain that relying on victory breeds arrogance, and arrogance leads to defeat.

Nor are high walls and deep moats enough to guarantee security.

Earlier commentaries explain that security comes from virtue, not from defensible terrain.

Nor are harsh punishments and ruthless killing enough to establish authority.

Earlier commentaries explain that authority can be exercised only when kindness is widely extended; if laws are too harsh, people’s hearts will turn away.

A well-governed state, however small, can surely be preserved; a badly governed state, however large, cannot escape destruction. Thus, no one can place a ruler skilled in preserving his state on the defensive or force him to resist.

An old commentary says: When one stands within a government that cannot be seized, even harsh punishments and executions are not enough to establish authority.

Another old commentary says: When kindness is extended widely, authority naturally takes effect. When laws and commands are severe, the people instead turn against the ruler.

A well-governed state, however small, can be preserved; a badly governed state, however large, will be destroyed. Thus, no one can place a ruler skilled in preserving his state on the defensive.

An old commentary says: He stands within a government that cannot be seized.

No one can engage a person skilled in warfare.

An old commentary says: Follow the other side’s anger and use the momentum to your advantage.

Act in accordance with the times and the people’s wishes, and all under Heaven will submit.

An old commentary says: This refers to the likes of Tang of Shang and King Wu of Zhou.

Therefore, those skilled at governing a state accumulate De (Virtue/Power); those skilled at warfare build up anger. When De has been deeply accumulated, the people can be put to use; when anger has been fully built up, authority can be established. Thus, the deeper the influence of civil virtue and teaching, the greater the power to win people over; the more widely De’s beneficence is spread, the farther its authority can reach.

An old commentary says: Cultivate civil virtue so that people from distant places come to you, and weapons and armor will become useless.

When De’s beneficence spreads widely, it makes oneself strong and the enemy weak. Those skilled at warfare weaken the enemy first, and only then go to battle.

An old commentary says: This is because they accord with the will of all under Heaven.

Thus, less than half the effort can bring ten times the result. Even a state with a thousand chariots—one ruled by a feudal lord—can become king if it practices civil virtue. A great state with ten thousand chariots, though, will ultimately perish if it delights in warfare. One who would become king first places himself in a position of certain victory, and only then goes to battle.

An old commentary says: Because they consistently keep their plans for victory in hand, when they send out troops to punish an enemy, they can often make the other side submit without actually fighting.

A defeated army goes to battle first and only afterward seeks victory.

An old commentary says: This is because it does not understand where it should always stand and is bound to fall into a position of defeat.

This is what it means not to understand the Dao (the Way).

The Zanyi says: A state that practices civil virtue can be preserved even when weak; a state that delights in warfare will perish even when strong. Those skilled at governing a state accumulate De; those skilled at warfare build up anger. Only those who understand that the purpose of warfare is to quell disorder, not to create it, can avoid harming the people and keep the state alive for a long time.

Wenzi Zanyi, Volume Nine

Complete Library of the Four Treasuries, by Imperial Decree

Wenzi Zanyi, Volume Ten, by Du Daojian of the Song dynasty

“Supreme Benevolence” Chapter

Laozi says: The way a gentleman conducts himself in the world is to cultivate himself through tranquility and simplicity, and to sustain life through frugality. Tranquility means that those in subordinate positions are not disturbed. When they are not disturbed, the people will feel no resentment. Disturbing the people throws the government into disorder; their resentment shows that Virtue is shallow. When government is in disorder, capable people will not offer counsel to the ruler; when Virtue is shallow, even brave warriors will not fight for him.

A benighted ruler acts otherwise. He claims the wealth of the realm and the power of the state, exhausting the people’s strength to gratify his eyes and ears. He devotes his attention to building palaces and terraces, canals and ponds, parks and gardens, and to collecting fierce beasts and rare curiosities. The people go hungry while tigers and wolves feast on rich meat; the people suffer from the cold while those inside the palaces wear fine silk. When a ruler accumulates such useless things, the people of the realm can no longer live in peace.

Laozi says: If the mind is not free from desire, Virtue cannot be brought to light; if the mind is not calm, one cannot reach a far-sighted understanding.

Laozi says: Without freedom from desire, Virtue cannot be brought to light; without calm, one cannot plan for the long term. Without generosity and forbearance, one cannot protect everyone; without fairness and impartiality, one cannot make sound judgments. A ruler should see through the eyes of all under Heaven, listen through their ears, deliberate with their minds, and act through their strength. In this way, commands reach the lowest levels, and the truth of conditions among the officials reaches the ruler.

Each official fulfills their duties, and the ministers gather around the ruler like spokes converging on a wheel’s hub. The ruler does not grant rewards on a whim out of fondness for someone, nor impose punishments on a whim out of anger. The laws and commands are clear, yet not harsh. The ruler sees and hears clearly, without being deceived; the facts of good and evil come before him each day and are never kept from him. Thus, capable people can fully apply their wisdom, while those of lesser ability can still do their best. Those nearby are content in their proper place, and those far away cherish the ruler’s kindness. This is the way to make good use of people.

Those who ride in a carriage or on horseback can travel a thousand miles without walking themselves; those who travel by boat can cross rivers and seas without swimming. If advice is sound, it must not be dismissed even when offered by a merchant or woodcutter. If advice is unsound, it must not be accepted even when it comes from the ruler or a high minister. Right and wrong should not be judged by a person’s rank or status. If a plan is useful, one should not disdain its proposer for holding a low position; if a statement is practicable, one should not attach importance to whether its speaker is eloquent.

A foolish ruler acts otherwise. Few among his ministers are sincerely loyal; and even when someone is loyal, the ruler does not put that person to use. He tends to favor crooked people, while the worthy are difficult to discover. Those who are distant and low in rank but strive to serve loyally cannot make their views heard by the ruler. When someone speaks, the ruler challenges them with words; when someone offers remonstrance, he punishes them with accusations. To act this way and still hope to bring peace to the realm and protect the people in all directions shows that the ruler has strayed far from the path of clear understanding.

Laozi said: One who honors life will not, even when wealthy and honored, use his body to draw near to or learn wicked and perverse things. Even if the worthy and capable are close at hand, they will not be seen; even if those who are distant and lowly do their utmost to offer loyal counsel, they will not be heard. When someone offers a proposal, he is pressed with questions; when someone remonstrates, he is punished on some charge. To still hope to bring peace to all under Heaven and safeguard the myriad regions in this way is to be far from having keen ears and clear sight.

Laozi said: One who knows how to cherish life will not damage his body for pleasure, even when wealthy and honored; even when poor and lowly, he will not burden body and mind for profit. Now that you have inherited a noble rank from your ancestors, you should value it and not lose it lightly. The source of life has existed for a long time, yet you cast it aside recklessly. Is that not foolish? Only one who governs all under Heaven by cherishing himself can be entrusted with the realm; only one who governs it by caring for himself can be given charge of it.

Wenzi asked what was fundamental to governing a state. Laozi said: “The foundation lies in cultivating and ordering oneself. I have never heard of a person who put himself in order while the state remained in disorder, nor has there ever been a case of a person in disorder who could govern the state well. Thus, only through cultivating oneself can one’s De (Virtue) become genuine. When the Dao (the Way) reaches its subtle essence, a father cannot teach it to his son, nor can a son receive it directly from his father. Therefore, the Dao that can be expressed in words is not the constant Dao; the name that can be defined is not the constant name.”

Wenzi then asked: “What must be done for the people to draw close to their ruler?” Laozi said: “Employ the people in season, and treat them with reverence and care, as cautiously as if facing an abyss or treading on thin ice. Between Heaven and Earth, those who treat me well are my support; those who do not are my enemies. In ancient times, the people of Xia and Shang turned against Jie and Zhou, serving Tang and Wu instead. The people of the Su Sha clan attacked their own ruler and pledged allegiance to Shennong. Therefore, what the people hold in awe must also be held in awe by the ruler.”

Laozi says: The principles on which a large state is governed must not be too narrow. When its territory is vast, its system of government must not be too confined. When one holds a high position, one should not personally handle every affair. When the people are numerous, instruction must not be too harsh. Affairs become difficult to govern when they are too complicated; laws become difficult to carry out when they are too severe; and excessive demands are difficult to meet.

Measure with inches, and by the time you reach a zhang, errors are inevitable. Weigh in zhu, and by the time you reach a shi, there will inevitably be some deviation. Use larger units for weighing and longer measures for measuring, and mistakes are less likely. Grasp the overall picture, and matters are easier to handle. Delving into minor details and disputing them may seem clever, but it can easily lead to confusion. Thus, the sage does not do what brings no benefit to governance and only adds to disorder; the wise do not do what offers no practical benefit and merely adds expense.

Therefore, do not covet great achievements, make affairs needlessly complicated, or demand too much. Modest achievements are easy to complete; simple affairs are easy to govern; and modest needs are easy to provide for. Affairs are easier to govern when everyone shares responsibility for them. Fixating on petty disputes harms what is just and important; clinging to narrow, minor principles obstructs the great Dao (the Way). Principles that are too narrow cannot reach far; principles that truly reach far must be clear and simple. Rivers wind and bend, and so they can flow to distant places; mountains rise and fall gradually, and so they can become lofty; the great Dao is broad and unhurried, and so it can bring forth and nurture the myriad things.

A person who has mastered one craft, knows one matter well, or excels at one skill may offer insight within that field, but this does not mean they can handle every kind of affair. When tuning a stringed instrument, tighten the thin strings and loosen the thick ones. When arranging affairs, those of low rank do more of the work, while those of high rank exert themselves less.

Daoist teaching says: “Vast and profound, following the force of Heaven, one can share the same Qi (vital energy) as Heaven.” Those who share Heaven’s Qi can become emperors; those who accord with what is just and important can become kings; and those whose achievements are proportionate to their position can become hegemons. Lacking all three leads to ruin. To inspire trust without words, show benevolence without bestowing favors, and command respect without anger is to follow Heaven’s heart and govern by transforming people through one’s example. To appear benevolent only by bestowing favors, to gain trust only by speaking, and to command authority only by getting angry depend on deliberate effort. If one bestows favors without benevolence, speaks without being trustworthy, or gets angry without inspiring respect, one is merely putting on an outward show.

Thus, when a person who has the Dao governs, few laws are enough to keep the state at peace. When a person without the Dao governs, even many laws are enough to bring the state into disorder.

Laozi says: A whale that leaves the water becomes subject to ants. If a ruler abandons the duties they must uphold and instead competes with their ministers in handling specific affairs, they become subject to the officials in charge of those affairs. Those who hold their positions and fulfill their duties according to Wuwei (non-action) listen to and follow their ministers’ views. If ministers hide their abilities and refuse to use them, leaving the ruler to handle their affairs instead, they violate the way of governance. Even many laws can bring about disorder when those who govern lack the Dao.

Laozi said, “A whale that leaves the water falls prey to ants. A ruler who abandons the duties he ought to uphold and competes with his ministers to manage affairs will be constrained by the officials in charge of those specific tasks.

“When the ruler practices Wuwei (non-action) and keeps to his position and duties, the ministers follow his arrangements. The ministers conceal their abilities and leave matters for the ruler to handle personally. If the ruler does not appoint capable people but insists on doing everything himself, his judgment will grow increasingly constrained, and he will also have to answer for the success or failure of each undertaking. When the authority to administer laws and decide matters falls into the hands of subordinates, the ruler can no longer uphold justice. If his conduct is improper, he cannot maintain his authority. With insufficient judgment to govern the state and insufficient power to enforce punishment, he cannot engage with the world.

“When the ruler displays his anger and pleasure in his thoughts, words, and actions, and makes his preferences and desires plain, officials responsible for their duties will abandon the proper way and cater to him. Officials in charge will also bend the law and act according to the ruler’s inclinations. When rewards do not match merit and punishments do not match offenses, ruler and subjects become divided, ministers and ruler resent one another, the affairs of the officials fall into disorder, and the ruler’s judgment cannot bring them into order. Praise and criticism arise from every side, yet the ruler cannot see clearly. Even when a fault is plainly not his, he takes responsibility for it himself. The ruler grows ever more exhausted, while the ministers grow ever more at ease.

“This is like cutting wood on behalf of a master carpenter: few can do so without injuring their hands. It is also like racing a horse: no matter how far one runs or how exhausted one becomes, one cannot catch it. If the ruler mounts a carriage and takes the reins, letting the horses pull while Bo Le, the expert horse judge, examines them and Wang Liang, the expert charioteer, drives them, then the wise ruler need only ride to travel a thousand miles. He need not exhaust himself driving or judging horses. This is the skill of making good use of others’ strengths.

“The way for a ruler to govern the state is to accomplish affairs without personally handling each one, and to establish what is needed without clinging to his own likes and dislikes. Once a ruler takes action in everything, his ministers will judge him; once he reveals his likes and dislikes, they will flatter him. Their judgments can unsettle the ruler, and their flattery can lead him astray. If he establishes things through his own personal efforts and then becomes subject to others, he cannot preserve the state. Therefore, one skilled at establishing institutions need not keep reciting their rules. What must be established is an invisible standard. Only a method of governance that adapts with subtlety can surpass all things.

“To keep desires from showing outwardly is called ‘locking’; to prevent outside evils from entering is called ‘sealing.’ If the inner self can be guarded and the outside kept at bay, what cannot be brought under restraint? If the outside can be kept at bay and the inner self guarded, what cannot be accomplished? Thus one can exert influence without acting personally, accomplish undertakings without doing them oneself, neither boasting of one’s words nor contending for credit. Judge actual results according to each person’s title, and let officials at every level fulfill their responsibilities. Take the rejection of self-conceit as the way of governance, and the prevention of oppressive interference as its guiding principle. In this way, the work of all officials can be assessed.”

Laozi said, “Food is the foundation of the people’s survival, and the people are the foundation of the state. Therefore, when governing a state, the ruler should follow the seasons, make full use of the advantages of the land, and organize people’s labor wisely. In this way, all things can grow and flourish, and the people will have what they need to rely on.

In spring, fell dead trees; in summer, gather the fruits; in autumn, store vegetables; and in winter, collect firewood to support the people’s lives. Do not discard useful things before they have served their purpose, and do not leave the bodies of dead animals unattended.

The laws established by the early kings were these: do not capture entire herds, drain ponds and marshes to catch fish, or burn forests to hunt. Do not set nets in the open country before jackals and wolves have begun hunting birds and beasts; do not put fishing nets in the water before otters have begun catching fish; and do not spread nets along lakes and marshes before eagles and falcons have begun to hunt. Do not enter the mountains and forests to fell trees before the plants have withered, or burn the fields for cultivation before insects have gone into hibernation. Do not kill young animals or take birds’ eggs while animals are bearing and raising their young. Do not catch fish before they have grown to a foot in length, and do not slaughter dogs or pigs for food before they are a year old.

Thus all things grow and multiply, like vapor rising in an unending flow. These practices of following the seasons and planning production and reserves in advance were the way the early kings governed to make the state prosperous and benefit the people. This did not mean merely seeing particular practices with one’s own eyes and carrying them out personally. When a ruler keeps the people’s welfare in mind, the people will naturally make good preparations for their lives and work.”

Laozi said: Wise rulers of antiquity took goods from the people in moderation and set limits on what they used for themselves. They first estimated the year’s harvest and assessed the people’s savings, determining whether there was a surplus or a shortfall before collecting what was needed. In this way, rulers received what Heaven and Earth provided and were spared the worry of hunger and cold. A ruler who cared for the people would not enjoy a variety of fine foods when anyone in the country was hungry, and in winter would not wear a fur robe when the people were suffering from the cold. Sharing the people’s hardships and comforts, such a ruler gave the world no cause for resentment.

Foolish rulers acted otherwise. They took goods from the people without regard for what they could bear, and made demands without considering their savings. Men and women were therefore unable to farm and weave. They labored hard and exhausted their resources, often living from one day to the next. Rulers and ministers, too, resented one another. A person working the plow could cultivate no more than ten mu of land, and even a middling field yielded no more than four shi of grain. A wife, children, and elderly parents all depended on this small supply of food, and disasters might strike as well. The people could not meet the ruler’s demands, yet the ruler showed them no compassion. Greedy and tyrannical rulers drained the people’s resources to satisfy their endless desires. As a result, the people could not enjoy the peace brought by the harmony of Heaven and Earth or live and work in contentment.

Laozi said: Of all the Qi between Heaven and Earth, nothing is more important than harmony. Harmony means the balance of Yin and Yang and the equilibrium of day and night. All things grow at the spring equinox and mature at the autumn equinox; both growth and maturation depend on the subtle Qi of harmony. If Yin Qi gathers in excess, things cannot grow; if Yang Qi gathers in excess, things cannot be brought to fruition. Only when Yin and Yang meet can harmony take shape.

Thus, the sage’s way of governing is generous yet authoritative, strict yet gentle, yielding yet upright, firm yet compassionate. What is too hard will break; what is too weak will bend. In governing, the key is to balance firmness and gentleness. A rope can be coiled away or stretched out straight: it can keep its length without sprawling out of control, and extend without becoming rigid. This is the principle the sage follows.

Too much kindness leads to weakness, and weakness forfeits authority. Excessive severity becomes forcefulness, and forcefulness disrupts harmony. Excessive protectiveness becomes indulgence, and indulgence makes restraint impossible. Excessive punishment brings calamity, and calamity turns people against one another. Thus, the way of governing depends on harmony.

Laozi said: A state can survive because it has obtained the Dao; it moves toward ruin when the principles by which it is governed are obstructed. Thus the sage observes changes in things and recognizes their signs. Virtuous government on the rise or in decline often first reveals itself in the prevailing customs. A state that follows the Dao of nurturing life will in time grow strong, even if it is weak. A state already showing signs of ruin will inevitably fail, even if it is powerful for now.

Strength cannot be relied upon to save a state from destruction. When the Dao is put into practice, even a weak state must not be dismissed. Whether a state survives depends on whether it has the Dao, not on the size of its territory; whether it perishes depends on whether it has lost the Dao, not on the strength of its power. The ruler of a troubled state devotes himself to expanding its territory but not to benevolence and righteousness. He seeks a high position but does not cultivate virtue. In this way, he abandons the foundation of the state’s survival and sets it on the path to ruin. If a ruler above violates the patterns by which the sun, moon, and stars move, and below loses the people’s support, who could not replace him? So, to judge whether one is governing well, there is no need to use others as a standard.

In ancient times, the way rulers put their principles into practice was called “Dao and De” when it ran deep, “benevolence and righteousness” when it ran less deep, and “ritual and wisdom” when it was more superficial. These six—Dao, De, benevolence, righteousness, ritual, and wisdom—are the guiding principles that hold a state together. Deep practice brings deep blessings; shallow practice brings shallow blessings. When all are fully practiced, the people under Heaven will submit. The ancients cultivated virtue to set the whole world right; they cultivated benevolence and righteousness to set a state right; they practiced ritual and wisdom to set a community right. Deep virtue brings great achievement; shallow virtue brings little.

Thus, one establishes one’s position without relying on force of arms; one wins without relying on hard-fought contests; one gains the world without greedily competing for it. One takes one’s place in the world by yielding it to the people; one wins by winning the people’s willing assent; one gains the world because the people entrust it to one, rather than because one seizes it. So one can establish oneself by taking the yielding, receptive position; softness can overcome strength; benevolence and righteousness can win people’s support; and when one does not contend, no one can contend with one.

The Dao moves through the world like rivers flowing into the sea, which receives them all. The pattern of Heaven is that reckless action leads to failure, and clinging to possession leads to loss. If one seeks great renown and the people’s support through rivalry and seizure, I believe one will never obtain them. Even if one forcibly takes possession and succeeds for a time, it cannot last. Renown cannot be gained through striving and demands; the people will gather to whoever they are willing to entrust it to. Where the people gather, there virtue resides. Thus it is said: those of highest De are followed by all under Heaven; those of highest benevolence are followed throughout the Four Seas; those of highest righteousness are followed by an entire state; those of highest ritual are followed by a whole community. Without these four kinds of virtue, the people will not follow. If they will not follow, yet one deploys military force, that is dangerous.

Thus it is said that weapons are inauspicious things and should be used only when there is no other choice. Even in victory, one should not celebrate them. War leaves death in its wake and brings forth only brambles; one should mourn the dead with grief and treat warfare according to the rites for mourning. Therefore, the noble person devotes himself to cultivating virtue and does not use military force lightly.

Wenzi asked, “Why are benevolence, righteousness, and ritual more superficial than Dao and De?” Laozi replied, “Those who speak of benevolence must measure things by sorrow and joy; those who speak of righteousness must show it through giving and taking. Yet people in every part of the world cannot all be comforted, and the wealth in the state treasury is not enough to support everyone. So rather than relying on these limited means, it is better to cultivate the Dao and put De into practice. When we follow the nature of heaven, earth, and all things, each thing naturally finds its proper place, and the world can become abundant. Benevolence and righteousness come after Dao and De.”

Thus, the great person takes a stand in what is substantial and does not linger on the superficial. Ritual is the outward expression of inward sincerity; benevolence is the concrete expression of affection. Ritual should be shaped by people’s genuine feelings and should not go beyond what is actually needed. Benevolence should not exceed the bounds of sincere affection. Grief comes from the heart, and funeral rites should accord with benevolence. In caring for the living, do not force people to do what they cannot manage; in bidding farewell to the dead, do not omit the rites that human feeling makes unavoidable. When arrangements are fitting and keep to due measure, they invite neither blame nor hollow praise. Music should bring people harmony and delight, but must not violate harmony itself. One should understand the distinction between life and death, and know the proper measure between extravagance and frugality.

In times of decline, things are different: words and actions contradict one another, and inner feelings do not match outward appearances. Ritual becomes elaborate and showy; music becomes excessive and disruptive, and customs sink into these practices. Blame and hollow praise gather at court, so those who have attained the Dao abandon such practices and no longer use them.

When racing against someone on a fine horse, a person cannot outrun the horse. But if the person rides and guides it, the horse cannot surpass the rider. So those skilled in using the Dao draw on others’ abilities to accomplish their work: they assign suitable tasks to capable people and succeed by relying on what others can do that they cannot. When a ruler governs in step with the seasons, the people repay him with their wealth; when he treats them with ritual respect, they repay him with their lives.

A state in danger and disorder often has no secure ruler, and a ruler beset by deep troubles often has no contented ministers. When a person’s De exceeds what their position can bear, they are held in high esteem; when their salary exceeds what their De warrants, calamity follows. Rank should rest on De and not be pursued too far; gain should accord with what is right and not be sought in excess. To hold high office without De is to steal a position; to acquire wealth without righteousness is to steal wealth.

The sage is content in poverty and finds joy in the Dao. The sage does not damage life through desire or let profit entangle them, and so does not betray what is right for reckless gain. In ancient times, those lacking De were not honored, those lacking ability were not appointed to office, those without merit were not rewarded, and those without fault were not punished. People were recommended in accordance with ritual and dismissed in accordance with righteousness. In times when petty people held power, recommending someone was like sending them up to heaven, while dismissing them was like pushing them into an abyss. Here, the fairness of ancient times is invoked to criticize current practices of appointment: people misjudge a horse because it is thin, and overlook a talented candidate because they are poor. Fat pigs are sent to the kitchens as delicacies, while the frail and unassuming are barred from office. A gentleman should examine what is real and not believe slander.

If a ruler makes mistakes and his ministers do not remonstrate, they are not loyal ministers. If they remonstrate and the ruler will not listen, he is an unenlightened ruler. If the people are suffering and the ruler is not troubled by it, he is not a wise ruler. Thus, a minister’s duty is to uphold his integrity even at the risk of death; a father who lets his child go cold and hungry fails in a father’s affection. To use the strong to oppress the weak is to violate what is right; for the weak to defy the strong is to go against Heaven’s order. Those who act this way may at first climb to heaven, but in the end they are bound to fall into the abyss.

In the community, the elderly are honored according to age, and the old and poor are not abandoned. At court, distinctions of rank and status mark who is above and below. The noble are honored because they are close to the ruler; the old are respected as family; elders are respected as older brothers. Those born to high rank are prone to arrogance, and those born to wealth are prone to extravagance. Unless they examine themselves through an understanding of the enlightened Dao, few will avoid wrongdoing. Learning without ever being satisfied is a way to cultivate oneself; teaching without weariness is a way to govern the people. If one can draw near to wise teachers and good friends, far fewer will stray onto an improper path.

Knowing who is worthy is called wisdom; caring for the worthy is called benevolence; honoring benevolence is called righteousness; respecting the worthy is called ritual; taking delight in the worthy is called music. Those who governed the world well in ancient times followed nature and did not act recklessly, yet nothing was left undone. Governing the world requires forbearance: if one can make room for all things, one can accomplish things through Wuwei (non-action); if one cannot make room for them, one’s actions readily invite danger.

One who can encompass the world is cautious, like someone crossing a river in winter; hesitant, as if mindful of neighbors on every side; solemn, like a guest observing the courtesies of a banquet; yielding, like ice melting; substantial, like uncarved wood; indistinct, like muddy water; and broad, like a valley. These images describe the attitude needed to govern the world. Caution means not daring to act rashly; hesitation means fearing that one may cause harm; solemn humility means respecting others; being like melting ice, with nothing held back, means not claiming things as one’s own. Being substantial and plain means not seeking to stand out sharply; being indistinct like muddy water means not flaunting one’s clarity and purity; being broad like a valley means not being complacent or deeming oneself worthy.

If one does not dare to act rashly, one will not rush ahead without cause. If one fears causing harm, one keeps to gentleness and does not boast. By placing oneself below, one can respect others. By accepting loss, one becomes firm. By not seeking perfection, one preserves what one has. By dwelling amid murk and disgrace, one appears fresh and clear. By recognizing one’s own shortcomings, one can advance in wisdom and worthiness. The Dao seems to yield, and so it takes the lead; it holds to gentleness, and so it reveals strength; it places itself below, and so rises above others; it accepts loss, and so becomes firm; it does not seek completeness, and so remains whole; it dwells amid murk, and so appears fresh and clear; it recognizes its shortcomings, and so becomes worthy. The Dao follows nature and acts without presumption, yet nothing is left undone.

Those who study the Dao can understand the difference between the Way of Heaven and human affairs, and grasp the foundations of good order and disorder. They clarify their thoughts, steady their intentions, and hold fast to these principles. They see how things change from beginning to end and ultimately return to emptiness. Such people may be called fully discerning.

The foundation of governing a state lies in benevolence and righteousness; laws and regulations serve only as aids. What people depend on to live is fundamental; what they can live without is secondary. Though the fundamental and the secondary are connected, those who give attention to both, attending to the fundamental first and the secondary later, are called noble people. Those who attend to the secondary first and the fundamental later are called petty people. Laws and regulations were established to support benevolence and righteousness. To value laws while abandoning benevolence and righteousness is like cherishing one’s hat and shoes while forgetting one’s head and feet.

Benevolence and righteousness must be both deep-rooted and far-reaching. If a foundation is not deep enough but one keeps extending the structure, it will collapse. If the foundation is not firm enough but one keeps building higher, it will topple. A beam that is not thick enough cannot bear a heavy load; to shoulder a great responsibility, nothing is more suitable than a thick beam. In governing a state, nothing matters more than De (Virtue/Power). A ruler’s relationship to the people is like a city’s relationship to its foundation or a tree’s to its roots. When roots reach deep, the tree is firmly grounded; when a foundation is solid, the building above it stands secure.

Therefore, action that does not take morality as its foundation cannot serve as a lasting standard. Words that do not accord with the Way of the former kings cannot be called the right way. Following just one course of action or one set of expedient methods cannot count as a principle that holds throughout the world.

The Zanyu Yi explains: “‘Highest righteousness’ means understanding the difference between the Way of Heaven and human affairs, and grasping the foundations of good order and disorder. Governance has fundamentals and secondary matters; knowing their proper sequence brings one close to the Dao of morality. Can the world really be governed by political tactics alone?”

Laozi said: Governing the people is like Zaofu, an ancient master charioteer, driving a carriage drawn by four horses. The reins and bit must be properly adjusted, and the driver must keep a sure measure in mind. Only when the driver knows the essentials and acts in accord with the horses’ nature can he guide them onto the right course and reach a distant destination. Then the horses’ strength is not exhausted, and they can move forward, turn back, and change direction with ease. This is truly knowing how to drive a chariot.

Today, power is like the carriage ridden by a ruler, and ministers are like the four horses that pull it. A ruler cannot do without the stability that power brings, nor can he do without the support of his ministers. If the four horses do not work in harmony, even Zaofu cannot drive the carriage forward; if ruler and ministers are at odds, even a sage cannot govern the state well. When a ruler uses the way of governance to guide his ministers, even people of ordinary ability can put their talents to full use. When titles and duties are clearly defined, treacherous conduct can be checked. When things arise, observe how they change; when events come, respond in keeping with the circumstances. If present affairs remain orderly, governance in the distant future will also be secure. There is no need to impose rigid commands deliberately: by following the natural patterns of things, one can undertake many tasks without error.

The Commentary on the Meaning of the Inherited Text explains: Though all things between Heaven and Earth are numerous and varied, the sage grasps their fundamental principles. Here, the carriage is used as a metaphor for power, and the four horses for ministers. The ruler relies on power and ministers to govern the realm; without exhausting his energies, even distant lands will submit. This is the way to govern the state. But how could someone who only knows how to hold a whip and drive a carriage understand the principle behind it?

Laozi said: Those who follow the Dao block the paths by which evil takes root and prevent calamities before they arise. What they value is not proving themselves right, but leaving people no opportunity to do wrong.

Laozi says that all who cultivate the Dao or govern affairs must block the channels through which wrongdoing arises and prevent calamities before they take shape. What matters is not thinking oneself right, but avoiding mistakes. So do not stir up people’s desires for gain, or they will pursue it without end; do not make them think that things can be taken from others, or they will struggle over them without cease. In this way, people’s selfish desires will diminish, and the way of fairness can be put into practice. What is in excess should be brought back to a fitting measure; what is insufficient should be replenished until it is enough. Then all under Heaven can be brought into unity.

If people abandon their proper duties and listen only to others’ praise and blame, or cast aside genuine merit and instead appoint those who form factions for private gain, the talented and resourceful will leave. Those entrusted with office will not be promoted, and popular customs will deteriorate; meritorious officials will struggle against one another at court. Therefore, one who follows the Dao with a proper method can direct others; one without the Dao will be controlled by others.

The Zanyì explains: A good physician does not wait until an illness has broken out to treat it, but prevents it before it arises. This is what is meant by a cultivator of the Dao blocking the channels of wrongdoing and guarding against trouble before it occurs. The key is not to think oneself right and not to give oneself the chance to make mistakes. When this is achieved, there will be no grasping or contention. One who follows the Dao with a proper method can direct others; one without the Dao will be controlled by others.

Laozi also says that governing a state has enduring principles, and that the well-being of the people is foremost among them. There are also standards for making government orders and instruction accord with the Dao, but for those orders to be carried out, they must suit the times. If something benefits the people, there is no need to imitate antiquity in every respect; if it enables affairs to be handled well, there is no need to cling to old customs. Thus, the sage changes laws and regulations as the times change, and adjusts rites according to local customs. Clothing and implements are adapted to their uses, while laws and institutions are established in light of actual circumstances. Changing ancient institutions is not necessarily wrong, and continuing old customs is not something to praise without question.

Reading the books of the former kings is not as good as hearing them speak in person; hearing them speak is not as good as grasping why they spoke as they did. Once their intent is truly understood, one sees that some principles cannot be fully expressed in words. Thus, if the Dao could be stated completely, it would not be the constant Dao; if a name could be given a fixed definition, it would not be a constant name. The Dao followed by the sage is as firm and unshakable as metal and stone, yet particular affairs are like a performance on zithers: when one piece ends, the tune must change. Laws, institutions, rites, and music are instruments of governance, not governance itself. Those with limited understanding are difficult to speak with about the highest Dao, because they are obscured by worldly ideas and constrained by established doctrines.

The Zanyì explains: The Dao is the foundation of laws and regulations; laws and regulations are the Dao put into practice. Governing a state has enduring principles, and the well-being of the people is foremost among them: this is the Dao. Government orders and instruction must accord with the Dao. To grasp the highest Dao, one must awaken from worldly ideas and avoid being constrained by established doctrines.

The Dao (the Way) is the foundation of law, while law is the concrete application of the Dao. In governing a state, there are enduring principles, with benefiting the people as their foundation; this is the Dao. Government and education give expression to the Dao, while the implementation of policies and commands is the work of the legal institutions of antiquity. Sages adjust laws as the times change and alter rituals in response to local customs. Standards and policies must therefore suit the circumstances of each place. Those with limited understanding who cling to old doctrines are unfit to discuss the highest principles, because they are bound by dogma.

Laozi said: “Where in the world are there laws that never change? If one can recognize patterns in worldly affairs, understand the principles of human nature, follow the course of Heaven, and clarify the matters of spirits and gods, then governance can be brought into order. In ancient times, the Three Sovereigns issued no policies, yet the people followed their lead. The Five Emperors issued policies, yet had no need for punishments. The Xia rulers emphasized keeping faith; the Yin people made solemn pledges; and the Zhou people formed sworn alliances. By the declining days of later ages, people endured humiliation yet scorned integrity, and coveted gain without feeling shame. Therefore, laws and policies must take popular customs into account, using them to regulate leniency and severity, urgency and delay. Tools and institutions, too, must be devised as the times change, so that they remain suitable. Those constrained by the law cannot discuss far-reaching plans with you; those rigidly bound by ritual and regulations cannot be made to respond to changing circumstances. Only with independent insight and keen judgment can one grasp the Dao and act in accordance with it. Those who understand why laws arise can adapt them to the times; those who do not understand the roots of good governance will ultimately fall into disorder, even if they follow the old laws in every detail. Today, students copy the teachings of their predecessors, clutching the classics and rigidly adhering to their rules, in the hope of governing a state. This is like trying to fit a square tenon into a round mortise: it is difficult to make them fit. To rescue a crisis and pacify a chaotic age, even the wise cannot rely solely on inherited laws. Yet those who uphold ancient institutions as the highest standard think that even fools have more than enough to govern by. Thus, a sage does not adopt laws unsuited to the times, and an enlightened ruler does not heed words that have never been tested.”

Zanyu comments: When sages establish laws, their fundamental purpose is to prohibit wrongdoing and evil, redress grievances, and protect the people. The Three Sovereigns issued no policies, yet the people followed their lead. From the Five Emperors onward, each age established different laws, rewards, and punishments because the times had changed. How could an enlightened ruler fail to examine this closely?

Wenzi asked, “Where does law come from?” Laozi replied, “Law arises from what is right, and what is right arises from what people collectively recognize as fitting. What is fitting must accord with the human heart.”

Wenzi asked, “Where does law come from?” Laozi replied, “Law comes from what is right; what is right comes from what people collectively accept as suitable, and what is suitable must accord with human feelings. This is the key to governing a state. Law does not descend from heaven or spring from the earth; it arises among people. When establishing laws and standards, one should return to oneself and set oneself straight. One who truly understands the root will not be thrown into confusion by details; one who grasps the essentials will not be led astray by doubt. Do not blame others for faults you have yourself, and do not demand of others what you have failed to do. What those below are required to observe, those above must not discard; what the people are forbidden to do, you must not do yourself. Therefore, when a ruler establishes laws, he should first take himself as the standard. Only when the ruler observes the prohibitions himself can the laws be put into practice among the people.”

Law is the common standard by which all under heaven must abide, and the measure by which a ruler judges conduct. Laws are made public to restrain behavior that fails to meet their requirements. Once the standards are set, those who meet them are rewarded and those who violate them are punished. A person’s high status does not lessen the reward due, and a person’s low status does not make the punishment harsher. Even a worthy person who breaks the law must be punished according to it; someone unworthy whose conduct conforms to the law should not be found guilty. In this way, the principle of impartiality is put into practice and selfish desires are restrained.

In ancient times, officials were appointed to restrain the people and prevent them from acting recklessly. Rulers were established to restrain officials and prevent them from acting arbitrarily. Laws and the arts of the Dao—the principles and methods for governing all under heaven—serve to restrain the ruler and prevent him from acting tyrannically and arbitrarily. When no one can act recklessly, the Dao prevails and things are brought into accord with their proper order. Thus, governance ultimately returns to Wuwei (non-action), acting in accord with the patterns of things without imposing unwarranted interference. Wuwei does not mean doing nothing; it means that what one does arises from one’s own natural responsiveness.

“Law” is the ruler’s way of making institutions and standards clear to the people, so that they become rules shared and observed throughout the realm. Once laws and decrees have been established, they should be applied equally: even a person of high rank who breaks the law must be punished, while a person of low status who acts within the law should not be charged with an offense. In this way, private desires can be restrained and the principle of fairness put into practice. In ancient times, officials were appointed, a ruler was established, and rites and laws were set down; none of these three could be dispensed with. Only then would the people throughout the realm have no cause for resentment, and society could return to simplicity. If this state has already been reached, why burden people with complicated laws and decrees?

Laozi said: Those skilled at giving rewards spend little, yet encourage many people to do good. Those skilled at punishment use penalties sparingly, yet put a stop to wrongdoing. Those skilled at giving achieve great benevolence with very little, while those skilled at receiving gain much without arousing resentment. Thus, the sage encourages good conduct by following what the people cherish, and curbs wrongdoing by following what they detest. Reward one person, and people throughout the realm will hasten to follow suit; punish one person, and people throughout the realm will feel awe. The highest form of reward therefore requires little expenditure, and the most fitting punishment is never used excessively. The sage follows the principle of simplicity yet governs a vast realm; this is what the saying means.

The growth, maturation, decline, and storage of all things are the workings of the Way of Heaven. Rewarding, punishing, giving, and taking are methods of governing the human world. The sage models himself on the Way of Heaven above and responds to the people’s wishes below, taking this as the foundation of fair governance. If one who rules the realm can properly wield these four powers—reward, punishment, taking, and giving—and handle every matter well, then rewarding one person will bring the people throughout the realm to his side, while punishing one person will make them feel awe.

Laozi says: “The way of a minister lies in deliberating on affairs and handling them appropriately, taking the lead and acting ahead of others. Only by fulfilling one’s duties and clarifying one’s responsibilities can one accomplish great things. Thus ruler and minister have distinct responsibilities, and the state can be governed; when their responsibilities are confused, disorder follows. When ruler and minister each remain in their proper place and act suitably, those above and below can work together and direct one another. A branch, therefore, must not grow larger than the trunk, nor may the tips overpower the root. This means that what is light or small must be kept in check by what is weighty or great.

Those who hold authority possess little themselves, yet bear great responsibility; the sphere they must safeguard is limited, yet the sphere they can control is vast. A thick beam supports a roof weighing a thousand jun because it is in the right position. A bolt only five cun long can control whether a gate opens or closes because it occupies a crucial point. Subordinates must carry out their superiors’ orders: obeying brings benefit, while defying them brings harm. Everyone under Heaven obeys because the government’s commands accord with the people’s wishes. The power to issue orders, enforce prohibitions, and control what opens and closes comes from occupying a position of importance. Subordinates must carry out orders; those who obey benefit, while those who defy them suffer harm. Everyone under Heaven obeys because the government’s commands accord with the people’s wishes, and because rulers can draw on the strength of the many to establish their authority.

One who acts with righteousness cannot benefit every person under Heaven. Yet by benefiting even one person, they may win the allegiance of all. One who acts violently cannot harm everyone under Heaven. Yet by harming even one person, they may turn all against them. Therefore, appointments and dismissals, and the adoption or abolition of measures, must all be considered with care.

The Commentary on the Continuation of the Meaning (Zuanyi) explains: “A ruler establishes their position by relying on ministers, while ministers act through the ruler’s appointment. The ruler above should practice Wuwei (non-action), refraining from personally intervening in every matter; ministers below, by contrast, should take action. Deliberating on affairs, handling them appropriately, fulfilling their duties, and clarifying their responsibilities are all things ministers ought to do. Only when ruler and minister each act as is fitting can those above and below work together, and what is great and what is small keep one another in check. Thus, when each keeps to distinct responsibilities, the state can be governed. The adoption and abolition of measures affect whether order or disorder prevails, so the ruler must consider them with care.”

Laozi said, “Bend down an inch, and you can straighten up a foot; bear a little grievance for a time, and you can accomplish what is right on a greater scale. The sage acts this way. When rulers assess their ministers, they do not weigh their great achievements. They look only at their overall performance, yet single out minor faults. This is how they lose worthy talent. So, if someone has deep De, there is no need to pursue their small faults; if someone enjoys a high reputation, a slight blemish should not be grounds for rejecting them. A person’s abilities and character always have shortcomings. It is enough if they can accomplish the greater purpose and perform well overall; a few minor faults need not become a burden. If their overall performance is unsuitable, then even the careful conduct they show in everyday village life is nothing worthy of praise. Thus, those who cling only to small details are unlikely to accomplish great things, while people whose conduct has blemishes are often rejected by others. Those with broad minds do not fuss over small matters, and those of great stature earn a far-reaching reputation. This is the principle for assessing ministers.”

The Zanyu says: It is rare to find someone who is perfect in every respect; this has been true since ancient times. For example, when a carpenter looks for timber suitable for a roof beam, they do not fixate on minor details. That is how they find a fine piece of timber. Careful conduct in everyday village life is nothing worthy of praise. Thus, those who cling only to small details are unlikely to accomplish great things, while people whose conduct has blemishes are often rejected by others. Those with broad minds do not fuss over small matters, and those of great stature earn a far-reaching reputation. This is the principle for assessing ministers.

The Zanyu also says: It has always been rare to find a person of complete talent. When a carpenter looks for timber fit to make a roof beam, they do not get caught up in the details; that is how they find a fine piece of timber. If a ruler assessing ministers understands that one should yield temporarily on small matters in order to accomplish what is greater, they will be able to find worthy and capable people. No one can be perfect in every respect, and no matter can be flawless in every detail. If we set aside minor shortcomings and take what is strong, what achievement could not be accomplished? If we avoid weaknesses and make use of strengths, what task could not be carried through?

Laozi says: From ancient times to the present, no one has been able to do everything perfectly. Therefore, a gentleman does not demand perfection from others in every matter. A square and upright person need not be harsh; an honest person need not hurt others; a straightforward person need not behave without restraint; and a learned, perceptive person need not be severe in judging others. Whether someone has moral virtue, literary talent, or military skill, one should not expect them to excel in every respect. Cultivate yourself through the Dao, without harshly judging others, and it will be easier to get along with people. Cultivating yourself through the Dao also leaves you with fewer faults.

The jade disc of the Xia rulers was not without flaws, and the luminous pearl was not without tiny imperfections. Yet people under Heaven still regarded them as treasures, and did not overlook their great beauty because of small defects. If today we remember only other people’s shortcomings and forget their strengths, it will be difficult to find worthy people in the world.

Ordinary people see only that someone has low status, humble origins, or has done work considered degrading and humiliating; they do not understand that person’s far-sightedness and strategic ability. To judge someone, observe whom they recommend when they gain influence; to whom they give their wealth when they become rich; what they refuse to accept when they are poor; and what they refuse to do when their position is low. Then observe how they behave in hardship to understand their courage. Test them with joyful occasions to see whether they can hold to their principles; entrust them with wealth to see whether they are generous and humane; and test them with frightening situations to see whether they can keep their integrity. In this way, you can understand what a person is truly like.

The Zuanyi says: Those who are lenient with themselves often do not correct their faults; those who are harsh toward others often fail to preserve their relationships intact. A gentleman does not demand perfection from others because he knows that no one in the world can be wholly perfect in every respect, as Yao and Shun were. If someone has outstanding abilities, how could we reject them merely because they fall short in small matters?

Laozi says: One accepts humiliation in order to stretch out later; one bends in order to become upright later. Yield an inch for now, and gain a foot of extension; bend in a small matter to stand straight in a larger one. This is what the exemplary person does. If the rivers do not ultimately flow into the sea, they cannot be called waters of the valleys. If different paths do not ultimately lead to goodness, their travelers cannot be called exemplary people. Good words seek the right way. Yield an inch for now and gain a foot of extension; bend in a small matter to stand straight in a larger one. This is what the exemplary person does. Rivers that do not flow into the sea are not valley waters; travelers on different paths who do not arrive at goodness are not exemplary people.

Words are valuable when they can be put into practice; actions are valuable when they accord with benevolence and righteousness. The faults of an exemplary person are like the sun and moon being obscured: in the end, their light is not diminished. Thus, the wise do not act rashly, and the brave do not kill recklessly. They choose what is right, plan and act in accordance with ritual norms, and so bring their endeavors to success and accomplish deeds worthy of reliance. Even after death, their names are worthy of praise.

A person, however gifted in wisdom, must take benevolence and righteousness as a foundation in order to accomplish anything; wisdom must be exercised together with benevolence and righteousness. The sage always takes benevolence and righteousness as the standard. Those who meet this standard are called exemplary people; those who do not are called petty people. Even after an exemplary person dies, their name does not fade; even when a petty person gains power for a time, their guilt is not erased.

With the map of the world’s territories in the left hand and a blade at one’s own throat in the right, even a fool would not choose to cut their throat, because one’s own life is more precious than the world. Yet those who die while taking on danger for their ruler and family regard death as a return home, because righteousness is more important than their own lives. The world is a great benefit, yet compared with oneself it is secondary; one’s own life is cherished, yet compared with benevolence and righteousness it is of lesser weight. This is what it means to take benevolence and righteousness as one’s standard.

The Zanyu Commentary explains: Bending and stretching respond to one another. When exemplary people bend in small matters and stand upright in larger ones, they are like dragons and snakes that lie dormant before rising again. Good words and good deeds nourish everyone; they all arise from yielding for a time and cultivating De. The sage takes benevolence and righteousness as the standard, understands that one’s own life matters more than the world, and also understands that righteousness matters more than one’s own life. For this reason, the sage can die while taking on danger for a ruler and family. Thus, even after an exemplary person dies, their name is not forgotten.

Laozi says that the perfection of the Dao and De is constant, like the sun and moon. Even the Yi, Di, Man, and Mo—the ancient names for peoples of the frontier regions—could not alter their principles. Whether a person’s resolve is firm depends on that person; whether their reputation brings praise or blame depends on worldly opinion. Whether their actions go smoothly depends on the times, and whether they attain prominence depends on circumstances. When an undertaking can be carried out in the world, achievements can be accomplished; when one’s actions suit the times, a reputation can be established. Those who build a name and accomplish great things therefore take worldly opinion lightly, yet are careful to seize the right moment. Once the moment arrives, it passes in an instant, leaving no time for delay.

Those who waged war in ancient times did not do so out of greed for land or treasure. They sought to rescue what was in peril, quell disorder, and rid the people of harm. The greedy and covetous brought ruin upon the world, keeping the people in turmoil and distress and unable to safeguard their possessions. The sages then rose up to punish the violent, pacify the troubled age, and rid the world of harm, restoring clarity amid chaos and turning danger into safety. Thus, at times, force had to be used to stop disorder.

The Zhuanyi says: A person’s moral character is like the sun and moon in the heavens; the five inherent dispositions of human beings are like the five stars in the heavens. Even the Yi, Di, Man, and Mo could not alter them. Whether one advances or holds back depends on oneself; whether one is praised or censured depends on others. Whether one is entrusted with office depends on the right moment, and whether one can put one’s aspirations into practice depends on one’s fate. Therefore, when a noble person encounters the right moment, they immediately put their Dao into practice.

The Red Emperor presided over the Fire phase. When a fire disaster broke out, the Yellow Emperor captured him. Gonggong brought floods, so Zhuanxu executed him. First, teach through reason and guide through virtue. If he still refuses to listen, confront him with authority and force; if he remains defiant, subdue him with weapons and armor.

There is no greater calamity than killing innocent people to sustain an unjust ruler. Nor is there a deeper disaster than exhausting the wealth of the realm to satisfy one person’s desires. Giving free rein to one person’s wants only leaves the people of the realm suffering for a long time—something the order of Heaven cannot tolerate. A ruler is established to put an end to tyranny and disorder. But when a ruler uses the strength of the people to harm them in turn, it is like giving a tiger wings: how could such a ruler not be removed? Those who raise fish must drive away otters, which prey on fish; those who raise livestock must get rid of jackals and wolves. How much more so when governing the people? This is why warfare arises.

The Zuanyi says: The five phases of fortune that a state undergoes have long been established. The Red Emperor belonged to the Fire phase. When a ruler failed in virtue, fire turned into disaster. Gonggong belonged to the Water phase. When a ruler failed in virtue, water turned into disaster. From this we can see that when a ruler fails in virtue, the phase governing his time brings its corresponding calamity. How can rulers who possess territory fail in virtue and summon disaster without becoming alert and repenting?

Laozi says that the principles of governing a state are these: the ruler does not issue harsh commands, officials do not impose complicated administration, scholars do not engage in deceit, and craftsmen do not make excessively elaborate objects. The people each fulfill their proper roles without undue interference. Tools are sturdy and durable, with no concern for ornate decoration.

Times of disorder are different. People compete to display their supposedly noble conduct, while those who prize formal etiquette boast to one another of their false appearances. They adorn carriages and horses with extreme refinement and cover everyday objects with intricate carvings. Those who pursue wealth compete to treat rare goods as treasures, while those who prize fine writing make tangled, complicated matters their urgent concern. Scholars toy with deceptive arguments, drawing things out for a long time without resolving problems. This does nothing to help governance and only deepens disorder. Craftsmen make unusual objects that take years to complete but serve no practical purpose.

Thus, the principles of governance in the age of Shennong taught that when a man reaches adulthood but does not farm, someone in the world will go hungry; when a woman reaches marriageable age but does not weave, someone in the world will go cold. Shennong therefore farmed with his own hands, and his wife spun and wove with hers, setting an example for all under Heaven. He taught the people not to prize rare goods or value things that were useless. In this way, those who farmed could not support themselves if they failed to work hard, and those who wove could not clothe themselves if they were not diligent. Each person’s abundance or scarcity depended on their own labor. When food and clothing were plentiful, wrongdoing did not arise; when life was settled, all under Heaven could be at peace. The clever had no chance to put their schemes into practice, and the brave had nowhere to flaunt their might.

The Zanyi explains that methods of governing a state differ between ancient and modern times because customs have changed. The ancients were simple and unspoiled: rulers issued no harsh commands, officials imposed no complicated administration, scholars engaged in no deceit, and craftsmen made no excessively elaborate objects. As a result, people’s desires were easily satisfied, and governing the state was not difficult. In later ages, customs changed, with those above setting the example for those below. People competed to admire extravagance, and greed knew no satisfaction. As a result, people’s desires became difficult to satisfy, and governing the state became difficult.

Laozi says that the way to become a king or hegemon depends on planning, deliberation, and advance preparation. An army that takes the field in the name of justice does not seek merely to preserve itself; its purpose is to save people and states on the verge of ruin.

On hearing that the ruler of an enemy state is cruelly abusing his people, one should send troops to its borders and denounce the ruler’s unjust conduct and wrongdoing. Once the army reaches the outskirts, its commanders must be ordered: do not cut down trees, dig up graves, trample crops, burn grain stores, abduct the people, or seize their livestock.

Then a proclamation is issued: “The ruler of this state defies Heaven and Earth, shows contempt for the spirits, judges cases unfairly, and kills the innocent indiscriminately. Heaven intends to punish him, and the people resent him. We have taken up arms to abolish unjust rule and entrust the state to a virtuous person. Anyone who dares defy the Way of Heaven and harm the people is a criminal and will be put to death along with his entire clan. If a whole household submits, it will receive the stipend of a household; if an entire li (an ancient local settlement unit) submits, it will receive the wealth of a li; if an entire township submits, it will be granted a township; and if an entire county submits, it will be granted a county.”

When the state is conquered, the people are not harmed. The former ruler is deposed and the laws and policies are changed. Outstanding people are honored, the worthy are recognized, orphans and widows are aided, the poor are relieved, prisoners are released, and those who have rendered meritorious service are rewarded. The people open their doors to welcome the army and prepare and store rice, fearing only that the troops might not come.

When an army of justice reaches the border, the enemy will cease resisting without a battle. When an unjust army arrives, corpses will litter the ground and blood will flow in streams. In the past, those who sought land on the people’s behalf could not establish royal rule; those who acted only for their own gain could not achieve success. Those who work for everyone receive everyone’s support; those who think only of themselves are abandoned by everyone. A side backed by the people will grow strong even if it is weak; a side rejected by the people will eventually perish, however powerful it may be.

The Wenzi Zuanyi consists of twelve chapters. The third and fourth chapters discussed here concern the former kings, later hegemons, and the Way of rulers and emperors. The phrase in “The Way of the Hegemon” that says, “not to scheme for one’s own survival or downfall,” conveys the spirit of reviving what has fallen, continuing what has been cut off, and upholding justice. It differs greatly from the unjust actions of later generations.

Laozi says that those who esteem the highest benevolence and righteousness govern the state and put its affairs in order. They promote benevolence and righteousness, widely extend kindness and favor, establish proper laws, close off crooked paths, and bring the ministers close and loyal while keeping the people harmonious, so that relations between those above and below are well ordered.

Laozi says: The highest form of righteousness is to govern the state and bring order to its territory, put benevolence and righteousness into practice, extend kindness and benefits widely, establish just laws, and block crooked paths. Then the ministers will draw near and pledge their loyalty, the people will live in harmony and peace, those above and below will act as one, and the ministers will work together. The feudal lords will respect the state’s might, and people in all four directions will remember its kindness. If affairs are well governed within the court, one can foil an enemy’s plans a thousand miles away. Once an order is issued, all under Heaven will respond. This is the highest level.

Next comes a state with vast territory and a large population, a wise ruler and capable generals, abundant resources and a powerful military. Its troops are well organized and obey orders. When the two sides are evenly matched, the enemy flees in defeat before battle begins and blades meet. This is the next level.

At a lower level, one must know how the land can best be used, understand the advantages of strategic terrain, grasp the effects of severe orders, and be familiar with the circumstances of battle formations. When combat closes to sword’s reach and arrows cross in flight, people are killed, the wounded are treated, blood runs for a thousand miles, and corpses lie across the fields. This is a lower level.

Victory and defeat in war depend on governance. When governance is sound, the people support their ruler and the army grows strong; when governance is unsound, the people turn away from their ruler and the army grows weak. Benevolence and righteousness can win the hearts of the people throughout the world; effective administration can meet the urgent needs of all under Heaven; selecting and appointing the worthy can win the support of virtuous people; and sound planning and judgment can weigh competing considerations and reach a decision. This is the highest way of righteousness.

The Commentary on the Meaning of the Zuan says: The side that initiates military action is the host; the side that responds to the enemy is the guest. A military classic says, “I dare not take the role of host, but would rather be the guest.” This means that one must not launch a war lightly. When military action is truly unavoidable, using righteousness as the basis for going to war is the best course; making the enemy flee without fighting is the next best; engaging in battle is the least desirable.

Laozi says: A state is strong because its people are all willing to give their lives for it; they are willing to do so because what they are asked to do accords with righteousness. Righteousness can be put into practice because there is might to uphold it. Therefore, one should guide the people through civil governance and discipline the army through military preparedness; only then can victory be achieved. A state becomes strong when might and righteousness go hand in hand.