《老子注》

If the Dao can be explained in words, it is not the eternal, unchanging Dao; if a name can be precisely defined in words, it is not an eternal, unchanging name. Chen Li explains that the eternal Dao cannot be spoken, and the eternal name cannot be defined. The Dao referred to here is the fundamental principle that existed before Heaven and Earth appeared and has remained unchanged through the ages. After Heaven and Earth took shape, the myriad things changed without end. People could describe the principles within them and give things names, but these changed along with the world and were no longer the eternal, unchanging Dao and name.

The nameless is the beginning of Heaven and Earth; the named is the source of the myriad things. The Heshang Gong commentary says that “the nameless” here refers to the Dao, while “the named” refers to Heaven and Earth.

Thus, by constantly remaining free of desire, one can perceive the Dao’s subtlety; by constantly observing from a state of desire, one can see where the myriad things ultimately tend. Chen Li explains that “free of desire” means restraining one’s desires. Yet all things have desires, and people too experience life and death, so one must also observe from one’s own state of desire where the myriad things return. Heshang Gong interprets “tend” as “return.” Lu Deming says that “tend” can also mean a small path, a boundary, or a subtle point.

The states of being free of desire and having desire both arise from the Dao; they differ only in name, and both may be called profound and mysterious. Within the mysterious lies a further mystery, the gateway to the myriad wonders. Heshang Gong takes “the two” here to mean having desire and being free of desire. Chen Li explains that “nonbeing” names the aspect of restraining desire, while “being” names what is present from the outset.

Chapter Two

Everyone in the world knows what counts as beautiful. Once the idea of beauty is established, its opposite, ugliness, appears alongside it. Everyone knows what counts as good, and its opposite, what is not good, appears alongside it. Treating beauty and goodness as fixed standards and deliberately pursuing them can instead lead us to lose our natural nature.

Thus being and nonbeing depend on each other for their existence; difficult and easy take shape in relation to each other; long and short become apparent only through comparison; high and low are clear only in contrast. Musical notes and singing respond to each other, while what comes before is followed by what comes after. These six relationships all arise naturally among the myriad things.

Therefore, the sage handles affairs through Wuwei (non-action), following the natural course of things without imposing undue interference, and carries out teaching without relying on words. The myriad things grow naturally, and the sage neither obstructs them nor takes charge of them. As the Heshang Gong commentary says, each thing grows on its own, and the sage neither turns it away nor holds it back. The sage nurtures the myriad things without claiming them as his own; acts without relying on his achievements; and, when the work is done, takes no credit. Precisely because he takes no credit, his achievements do not depart.

If those regarded as worthy are not exalted, people will not compete with one another. If rare and precious goods are not prized, people will not steal. If things that stir desire are not displayed, people’s minds will not be disturbed.

Therefore, when the Sage governs the world, they keep the people’s minds empty and calm, free from the hold of selfish desires; provide for their lives; make their intentions humble and yielding, free from the urge to contend for power or display strength; and keep their bodies strong. They ensure that ordinary people have fewer schemes and desires, and that those who consider themselves clever and are eager to act dare not act recklessly. Govern by following Wuwei (non-action)—a way of governing that refrains from needless interference—and nothing will be left unguided.

Chapter Four

The Dao (the root of heaven, earth, and all things) is empty and formless, yet its function seems inexhaustible. It is deep and subtle, as though it were the ancestor of all things. It draws in its sharpness, resolves confusion, tempers its radiance, and mingles with the dust of the world. It is deep and indistinct, seeming to exist yet remaining elusive.

I do not know where the Dao comes from. I only know that its image seems to have existed before the Lord of Heaven appeared.

Chapter Five

Heaven and Earth show no favoritism: they treat all things like straw dogs, the ritual figures made of straw and discarded after the ceremony. The sage, too, shows no favoritism and treats the people like straw dogs. Is the space between Heaven and Earth not like a bellows or the pipes of a panpipe? Though hollow, it is never exhausted; the more it is worked, the more air flows out. Too many words can leave one at a loss and spent. It is better to keep the heart-mind empty, still, and balanced.

Chapter Six

The Valley Spirit, the Dao in its empty stillness and mystery, never dies. This is called the Mysterious Female, the deep and generative source. The gateway of the Mysterious Female is the root of Heaven, Earth, and all things. It continues without end, seeming to exist and yet not to exist; when put to use, it is never exhausted. The Heshang Gong commentary connects this to the nose and mouth, seeing them as channels through which the original Qi of Heaven and Earth flows. Breathing should be long and gentle, allowing the breath to flow smoothly without haste or force.

Heaven and Earth endure because they do not live solely for themselves; they bring forth all things, and so they last. The sage puts his own interests last and thereby comes to the fore. He sets himself aside and thereby preserves himself. Is this not because he is free of selfish motives? In the end, he thus fulfills himself. The central point of this passage from Laozi is that selflessness, paradoxically, enables one to fulfill oneself.

Chapter Eight

The highest good is like water. Water excels at nourishing all things and does not contend with them. It stays in the low places that people dislike, and so it is closest to the Dao (the Way).

In choosing where to live, be like water and settle in low places. Let the heart be like deep water: profound, clear, and open. Treat others generously, as water nourishes all things. Speak truthfully and keep your word, like water reflecting an image without distorting it. Govern with clarity and fairness, as water cleanses all things. In your work, be as flexible as water, able to take a square or rounded shape and adapt to changing circumstances. In your actions, follow the right moment, as water flows freely in summer and freezes in winter, each in keeping with the season.

Precisely because water does not contend with anything, it makes no mistakes and invites no resentment.

When something held in the hand is already overflowing, it is better to stop in time. No matter how often you hone a blade, it cannot stay sharp forever. No one can guard a hall piled high with gold and jade indefinitely. Pride after attaining wealth and status only invites misfortune. Once your work is complete, withdraw from it; this accords with the Dao. The seasons turn without pause, and once all things have fulfilled their purpose, they move into the next stage.

Can you bring Jing and Qi together and hold fast to the root, the Dao (the Way), without letting them separate? [“The One” refers to what is called “the Valley Spirit that never dies.” The human body bears the ethereal soul and holds fast to the spirit: can they be kept from separating?] Can you focus Jing and Qi, soften the body, and become like an infant? [Can you keep Jing and Qi from dispersing and attain the supple, yielding state of an infant?]

Can you cleanse your inner heart and make your mind clear and without blemish? [The Heshang Gong commentary says: One should wash the inner heart until it is pure. The heart dwells in the depths of mystery and can observe and understand the myriad things; this is why it is called the “Mysterious Mirror.”]

Can you love the people and govern the state without resorting to cunning and clever schemes? [Chapter 65 of the Laozi says: “Governing the state through cleverness brings calamity upon the state.”]

When the Gate of Heaven (its meaning here is uncertain) opens and closes, can you remain yielding and refrain from taking the lead? [Some commentators take the “Gate of Heaven” to mean the nostrils; others see it as the passage through which things in the world come and go. “Opening and closing” refers to turning points between order and disorder. The feminine symbolizes yielding and responsiveness, without initiating action. Some versions instead read “to act” where this passage has “not to act,” giving the sense: “Can you hold to the yielding side?”]

Can you be clear and perceptive, and yet practice Wuwei (non-action)?

Let the myriad things grow and nurture them without claiming them as your own; act without relying on your achievements; guide the myriad things as they grow without ruling over them. This is called “Mysterious De”—profound and subtle Virtue.

Chapter Eleven

Thirty spokes converge at a single hub.

Thirty spokes converge at the wheel’s hub. It is the empty space at the center of the hub that allows the wheel to function. Clay is kneaded and shaped into a vessel; it is the empty space inside that allows the vessel to hold things. Doors and windows are cut into a house; it is the empty space within that makes the house fit for living in, moving through, and letting in light. Thus, solid form provides convenience, while empty space gives things their practical use.

Here, “nonbeing” refers to the empty spaces: the wheel turns by means of it, the vessel holds things by means of it, and the house allows people to enter and leave and light to pass through.

Chapter Twelve

The five colors dazzle the eyes, the five tones dull the hearing, and the five flavors distort the palate. “Distort” means to become mistaken or abnormal; some commentaries also explain it as “to lose.” Racing horses and hunting throw the mind into frenzy. Rare and precious goods obstruct people’s conduct and bring them misfortune. As the Zuo Commentary says, “Ordinary people have no crime in themselves; they bring calamity upon themselves only by keeping a jade disc.”

Thus, the sage values caring for the body, nourishing the belly with food and regulating the breath, rather than pursuing sensory pleasures. The sage therefore lets go of alluring external things and chooses inner fullness. “Does not act for the eyes” uses the eyes as an example and also means not to pursue the pleasures of the other senses to excess.

Chapter Thirteen

Whether favored or disgraced, one should be as cautious as if startled. Whether honored or holding high office, one should remain as vigilant as if concerned for one’s own safety.

Why say that being favored or disgraced is like being startled? Favor means that someone in a lower position receives the kindness of someone above. When receiving it, one should feel apprehensive; when losing it, one should feel apprehensive as well. Losing favor brings disgrace. This is what is meant by “whether favored or disgraced, one should be as cautious as if startled.”

Why say that being honored or holding high office calls for the same vigilance as concern for one’s own safety? My great troubles arise because I have this body. If I had no body, what could I lose, and what would there be to fear? This is what is meant by “whether favored or disgraced, one should be as cautious as if startled.”

Therefore, only someone who cherishes the world as they cherish themselves can be entrusted with it; only someone who cares for the world as they care for themselves can be given charge of it.

Chapter Fourteen

Look for it, and it cannot be seen: it is called “Yi.” Listen for it, and it cannot be heard: it is called “Xi.” Reach for it, and it cannot be grasped: it is called “Wei.” These three qualities cannot be pursued to their ultimate end, and so they blend into one.

Above, it is not bright; below, it is not dark. It stretches on without end and cannot be defined by a name, yet in the end it returns to formlessness and nothingness. This is called “the shape without shape, the image without an object”—a state of indistinct, elusive presence. Face it, and you cannot see its front; follow it, and you cannot see its back.

Grasp the Dao (the Way), the principle that has endured since ancient times and runs through all things, and use it to guide the things of the present. To know the beginnings of antiquity is to understand the Dao’s governing thread, the fundamental pattern by which it moves.

Chapter Fifteen

Those in ancient times who were skilled in cultivating the Dao were subtle and mysterious, far-reaching and profound; others could scarcely fathom them. Because they were so hard to fathom, we can only try to sketch their outward appearance: cautious and hesitant, like someone crossing a river in winter; alert and guarded, as if wary of those around them; solemn and respectful, as though receiving an honored guest. Yet they also seemed relaxed and at ease, like ice about to melt; plain and unadorned, like an uncarved block of wood; open and expansive, like a valley; indistinct and without sharp edges, like muddied water.

Who can still the muddied water and let it slowly clear? Who can remain settled and steadfast for long, then let life gradually arise? Those who hold to this Dao do not seek fullness. Because they do not seek fullness, they can preserve the old simplicity and avoid the excesses of what is newly made.

Reach the utmost point of emptiness and hold fast to deep stillness. As all things grow and change together, I observe how they cycle and return. Though all things flourish in great profusion, in the end each returns to its root. What is called “return” means that flourishing eventually gives way to decline, and life eventually gives way to death.

Returning to the root is called “stillness.” This is a return to life’s original state, known as “returning to life.” Returning to life is the constant, unchanging principle. The “constant” is the enduring order of things. Knowing this order is wisdom. Acting recklessly without knowing it invites danger. Those who know the constant can be as humble and composed as guests. They understand that all things should return to their root and original state, and so they do not contend with anything and can embrace all things. To embrace all things is to be impartial; impartiality makes one fit to be a king. The king accords with Heaven, Heaven accords with the Dao, and one who accords with the Dao can endure, living out one’s life without danger.

Chapter 17

The best ruler is one whom the people know is there. The next best is one whom the people love and praise; the next, one whom they fear; and the worst, one whom they scorn. When a ruler’s trustworthiness is insufficient, the people do not trust him. The ruler is calm and unassuming, and issues commands sparingly, practicing the “teaching without words”—guiding the people through his own conduct rather than issuing too many orders. When the work is done and the achievements complete, the people all say, “We did it naturally, of our own accord.” Here, “we” refers to the people: they do not know the ruler’s contribution, so they believe things came about through their own efforts.

Chapter 18

Only after the Great Dao was abandoned did benevolence and righteousness appear. Once the Dao was lost, people spoke of De; once De was lost, they spoke of benevolence; once benevolence was lost, they spoke of righteousness. When cleverness and ingenuity came to the fore, grave deception arose. Only when relations among the six family bonds—parents and children, brothers, spouses, and other kin—became disharmonious did people place special emphasis on filial devotion and parental kindness. Only when the state fell into disorder did loyal ministers appear.

Cut off display of cleverness and the calculating mind, and the people will gain a hundredfold. Stop proclaiming benevolence and abandon contrived notions of ritual and righteousness, and the people will return to filial devotion and loving care. Put an end to cunning and abandon the pursuit of profit, and thieves will no longer appear. These three teachings are not enough to guide the people, so they must also be given somewhere to turn: let them return to simplicity and naturalness, and lessen selfishness and desire.

Chapter Twenty

Give up the pursuit of worldly learning, and you will be free of worry. How much difference is there between an eager “Yes, yes” and a flattering “Yes”? How far apart are what people call “good” and “bad”? What the world fears, one cannot help but fear as well. This confusion is vast and boundless, as if it had no end.

Everyone is bustling with joy, as though attending a lavish feast or climbing a terrace to admire the springtime scenery. I alone am quiet and unconcerned, showing no signs of activity, like an infant who has not yet learned to smile, weary and without support, as if with nowhere to return. Everyone seems to have more than enough; I alone seem to lack something. How foolish my mind seems—so muddled and indistinct! Everyone is clear-sighted and conspicuous; I alone am dim and unremarkable. Everyone is sharp and discerning; I alone am dull and easygoing. I am calm like the sea, drifting without direction, as if I had no end. Everyone has something to rely on and a use for everything; I alone am stubborn and crude. I am different from other people: what I cherish is the “Mother” who nourishes all things—the Dao.

Chapter Twenty-One

The expression of great De follows only the Dao. The Dao, as a presence, is indistinct and elusive. Within its indistinctness there are images; within its elusiveness there are things. Deep and obscure, it contains a subtle essence. This subtle essence is real and true, and within it is a basis for trust. From ancient times to the present, the name of the Dao has never disappeared; through it, we can observe the source of all things. How do I know what the source of all things is like? Through the Dao.

What bends can remain whole; what is humbled can rise again; low places can be filled; worn-out things can be renewed. By taking less, one can gain; by grasping for too much, one is easily confused. From ancient times to the present, these principles have been passed down and used to observe the origins of all things. How do I know the nature of the origins of all things? By understanding these principles.

The sage holds fast to the One—the fundamental, unified Dao—and makes it the standard for all under Heaven. Because he does not deliberately show himself, he becomes clear-sighted; because he does not insist on being right, he becomes prominent; because he does not boast, he achieves merit; because he does not exalt himself, he endures. Precisely because he does not contend with others, no one under Heaven can contend with him. Could the ancients’ saying, “What bends can remain whole,” really be empty words? Indeed, all things ultimately return to this principle.

Few words accord with nature. A gale cannot last a whole morning; a downpour cannot last a whole day. What brings these things about? Heaven and Earth. If even the violent changes brought about by Heaven and Earth cannot last, how much less can those brought about by human beings? Therefore, those who act in accordance with the Dao are joined with the Dao; those who cultivate De are joined with De; those who turn away from the Dao and De are joined with their loss. The Dao welcomes those joined with it; De welcomes those joined with it; loss welcomes those joined with loss. When sincerity is lacking, others will not trust you.

Standing on tiptoe, you cannot remain steady; taking long strides, you cannot go far. By deliberately showing yourself, you become less clear-sighted; by insisting on being right, you become less prominent; by boasting, you achieve no merit; by exalting yourself, you cannot endure. When sincerity is lacking, others will not trust you.

From the Dao’s perspective, these practices are like surplus food and extraneous growths on the body. All things tend to detest them, so those who have the Dao do not engage in them.

Something that is whole and undifferentiated existed before Heaven and Earth took shape. Silent and still, vast and without form, it stands alone and does not change. It moves in cycles without ever ceasing and can serve as the root of all things under Heaven. I do not know its name, so I give it the courtesy name “Dao” and, by way of approximation, call it “Great.” The Great moves onward; moving onward, it extends far; having reached far, it returns. Thus, the Dao is great, Heaven is great, Earth is great, and the ruler is great. There are four great powers in the universe, and the ruler is one of them. Humanity takes Earth as its model; Earth takes Heaven as its model; Heaven takes the Dao as its model; and the Dao follows what is so of itself.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Heaviness is the foundation of lightness; stillness is the master of restlessness. Thus, the sage travels all day without leaving the baggage cart. This means that lightness takes heaviness as its root. Even when surrounded by splendid sights, the sage remains peacefully settled and unmoved. This means that action should be governed by stillness.

As the ruler of a state with ten thousand war chariots, how can one act lightly in the world? Acting lightly means losing one’s foundation; becoming restless means losing one’s mastery.

Those skilled at walking leave no cart tracks or footprints. Those skilled at speaking make no mistakes in their words. Those skilled at calculating need no counting rods or other tools. Those skilled at closing a door use no bolt, yet it cannot be opened. Those skilled at tying knots use no rope to bind, yet the knots cannot be undone.

Therefore, the sage is always skilled at helping people, so no one is cast aside; always skilled at helping things, so nothing is cast aside. This is called “inheriting wisdom.” [According to the postscript by Chao Shuozhi, these lines do not appear in the old editions and are found only in the Heshang Gong edition.] A good person is the teacher of one who is not good; one who is not good is a lesson for the good. If you do not respect the teacher or value the lesson, then even if you consider yourself wise, you will fall into great confusion. This is called a profound and subtle principle.

Chapter 28

Know what is strong, yet remain with what is soft; in this way, observe the boundaries of things. Know what is soft, yet remain with what is soft; in this way, perceive their mysteries. Then you can become the streambed of the world. As the streambed of the world, your constant De will never depart, and you will ultimately return to the state of an infant.

Know what is bright, yet remain with what is dim; then you become the model for the world. As the model for the world, your constant De will never deviate, and you will ultimately return to the limitless source, the state beyond all bounds.

Know what is honorable, yet remain with what is humbling; then you become the valley of the world. [A valley is also a place where streams gather.] As the valley of the world, your constant De will become full, and you will ultimately return to the uncarved simplicity of the unhewn block.

When the unhewn block is divided, it becomes various vessels. The sage makes use of them according to their particular qualities, and so they become leaders of the different things. [Using vessels in keeping with their qualities allows each to bring its strengths to bear.] Therefore, the best governance does not divide things apart. [It makes use of things according to their tendencies, governing without dividing them apart.]

Chapter 29

Those who wish to take hold of the world and force things to be done—I see that they cannot succeed. The world is a spirit-like vessel; it cannot be forced into action. When people make use of things according to their particular qualities, each can bring its strengths to bear. [Using vessels in keeping with their qualities allows each to bring its strengths to bear.] Therefore, the best governance does not divide things apart. [It makes use of things according to their tendencies, governing without dividing them apart.]

Anyone who seeks to possess the world and govern it by imposing their own will, I think, will ultimately fail. The world is a sacred vessel and cannot be handled as one pleases. Forceful action will ruin things; insisting on control will mean losing them.

All things are different: some go ahead, while others follow; some breathe out, while others breathe in; some are strong, while others are weak; some are secure, while others are in danger. Therefore, the sage sets aside extremes, extravagance, and excess.

Chapter 30

Those who assist a ruler through the Dao do not use military force to dominate the world, for such actions often bring retribution. Wherever armies pass, thorns and brambles grow; after a great war, famine often follows.

A skilled military leader achieves their aims and resolves crises, and leaves it at that. They dare not use this as a pretext to dominate. Having achieved their aims, they do not boast, show off, or act arrogantly. Even when success is unavoidable, they do not rely on it to assert their strength. When things reach their height and grow powerful, they turn toward decline and old age. This is called going against the Dao; whatever goes against the Dao soon perishes.

A fine weapon is an ill-omened instrument, and people generally detest it. Therefore, one who has the Dao (the Way) does not use it as an everyday tool. [Wang Wenjian says: When the ancients spoke of “arms,” they meant the five kinds of weapons; hence the statement that weapons are ill-omened. The character jia (“fine”) should be written zhui, an ancient form of wei (“only”). The passage therefore means, “Only weapons are ill-omened instruments,” and one who has the Dao does not use them as everyday tools. The text above contains the word fu and the text below the word gu, so the meaning connects smoothly.]

In ordinary life, the gentleman honors the left; in warfare, he honors the right. Weapons are ill-omened instruments, not things a gentleman should use. He uses them only when there is no other choice, and then approaches them with calm detachment. He does not celebrate victory. To treat victory as something beautiful is to take delight in killing. Those who take delight in killing cannot achieve their aims in the world. At joyful occasions, the left is honored; at funerals, the right. The deputy general stands on the left and the chief general on the right: this means that war should be approached according to the rites of mourning. When many people have been killed, one should respond with grief and compassion; even in victory, one should observe the rites of mourning.

[According to a postscript by Chao Shizhi, Wang Bi held that this chapter was not spoken by Laozi.]

Chapter 32

The Dao is always nameless. The uncarved “uncut wood” may seem insignificant, yet nothing in the world can master it. If lords and kings can hold fast to the Dao, all things will naturally turn toward them. When the Qi of Heaven and Earth mingle, sweet dew descends; the people need no commands from others to become naturally balanced and harmonious.

Once systems are established, names and categories arise. When names have arisen, one must know when to stop. Knowing when to stop allows one to avoid danger. The Dao in the world is like rivers and streams flowing into the great rivers and the sea.

Understanding others is cleverness; understanding yourself is wisdom. Overcoming others shows strength; overcoming yourself is true power. One who knows contentment is rich. One who keeps working with perseverance has resolve. One who never loses touch with their roots can endure. One whose body dies but whose spirit does not perish may be called long-lived.

Chapter Thirty-Four

The great Dao flows everywhere, reaching in all directions; there is no place it does not suit. All things depend on it to grow, yet it does not turn them away. When things are accomplished, it does not claim the credit. It nurtures all things but does not rule them. It never displays desire and may therefore be called small. All things return to it, yet it does not rule them; in this way, it may also be called great. Because it never considers itself great, it is able to accomplish its greatness.

Chapter Thirty-Five

Hold fast to the Dao, and all things under Heaven will turn toward it. Heshanggong’s commentary says: “Image” means “Dao.” When sages follow the Dao, all things under Heaven change their minds and come to follow them. When all things return without suffering harm, the state can be peaceful and secure.

Music and fine food can make travelers stop along the road, because sounds and flavors bring pleasure. But when spoken of, the Dao is bland and tasteless; looking at it, there is nothing to see, and listening to it, there is nothing to hear. Yet its function is inexhaustible. Wu’s commentary says: After travelers have gone on their way, pleasing sounds and delicious flavors fade away with them.

To gather something in, you must first let it expand; to weaken something, you must first let it grow strong; to discard something, you must first let it flourish; to seize something, you must first give it. This is called subtle insight. The scheme is hidden in the heart and not revealed outwardly. The soft and weak can overcome the hard and strong. Fish cannot leave the deep, for they cannot lose the place on which they depend. The state’s important instruments and powers must not be displayed to others; if displayed, they may be lost.

Chapter 37

The Dao (the Way) always follows its own nature. It does not deliberately act, yet nothing is left undone. If the lords and kings can hold to this principle, all things will transform of themselves. If desires and contrivances arise amid this transformation, I will use the nameless, uncarved simplicity—the natural state free of human desires—to calm them. Heshanggong says: If people again seek to stir up cunning and deceit, the lords and kings should personally soothe them through Dao and De. The nameless, uncarved simplicity will also leave the people without desire. When desire is absent, the mind becomes calm, and all under Heaven will settle of itself.

Those of the highest De (Virtue/Power) do not seem to be deliberately displaying their virtue; that is why they truly possess De. Wang Bi says they simply follow the Dao (the Way) and do not treat their De as an achievement. Han Fei explains that De is within, while what one gains is outside. The highest De does not become attached to outward reputation or possessions, so the spirit and vital energy are not pulled along by external things. Those of lower De, by contrast, are constantly aware of their own virtue and therefore cannot be said to possess true De.

The highest De follows its nature, acting without Wuwei (non-action) and without any intention to act deliberately. Lower De, however, takes action with a definite aim. Wang Bi holds that anything done without spontaneity, and that must be carried out deliberately, belongs to lower De; this includes conduct such as benevolence, righteousness, and ritual.

The highest form of benevolence acts without seeking anything in return. Han Fei says that benevolence is a natural feeling of affection for others: rejoicing in their good fortune and worrying about their misfortunes, not in order to receive a reward. The highest form of righteousness also acts, but with deliberation and judgment. Han Fei says righteousness means what is fitting, and acting in accordance with what is fitting. The highest form of ritual emphasizes reverence and formal observance. If one performs a rite and the other person does not respond, one may become angry, roll up one’s sleeves, and forcibly pull the other person along. Wang Bi points out that when ritual becomes too bound by formalities, people are liable to grow angry over whether the other party has returned the courtesy.

Thus, only after the Dao is lost does talk turn to De; only after De is lost does talk turn to benevolence; only after benevolence is lost does talk turn to righteousness; and only after righteousness is lost does talk turn to ritual. Ritual means that trust and sincerity have grown faint, and it marks the beginning of disorder. Those who consider themselves farsighted have grasped only the Dao’s outward brilliance, and in doing so have opened the way to folly. Therefore, the great person makes a home in what is substantial and simple, not in what is shallow; holds fast to what is real, and does not pursue what is showy. So one should leave behind the showy and shallow, and choose what is sincere and substantial.

Since ancient times, all things that have attained “the One”—the fundamental unity of the Dao—have flourished through it: Heaven attained the One and became clear; Earth attained the One and became still; spirits attained the One and became efficacious; valleys attained the One and became full; the myriad things attained the One and grew; and the lords and kings attained the One and became the right way and standard for all under Heaven.

All these effects come from the One. If Heaven could not remain clear, it might collapse; if Earth could not remain still, it might quake; if spirits could not be efficacious, they might lose their power; if valleys could not remain full, they might dry up; if the myriad things could not grow, they might perish; and if lords and kings could not uphold the right way, they might fall from power. The honored take the lowly as their root, and the lofty take the low as their foundation. That is why lords and kings call themselves “orphaned,” “widowed,” or “unworthy”—humble titles used by rulers in ancient times. Does this not mean they take the lowly as their root? So striving fiercely for splendor may leave one with nothing at all. Do not shine like fine jade or stand out hard and abrupt like a stone. Wang Bi holds that the human body will ultimately come to an end, so there is no need to cling to outward appearances.

Chapter Forty

Returning is the movement of the Dao; weakness is the way the Dao acts. The myriad things under Heaven arise from being, and being arises from nonbeing.

Those of the highest understanding, when they hear of the Dao (the Way), diligently put it into practice. Those of middling understanding seem to remember it, yet seem to forget it. Those of the lowest understanding laugh when they hear of the Dao. If it were not laughed at, it would not be worthy of being called the Dao.

Thus an ancient saying goes: “The bright Way seems dark; the Way that advances seems to retreat; the level Way seems rough. The highest De (Virtue/Power) seems empty; what is purest white seems stained; abundant De seems insufficient; establishing De seems lax; what is simple and true seems to change. The greatest square has no corners; the greatest vessel is completed only at the end; the grandest sound is rarely heard; the greatest image has no form.” The Dao lies hidden and cannot be seen, and has no fixed name. Yet the Dao alone is good at giving to all things and bringing them to completion.

Chapter 42

The Dao gives rise to One; One divides into Two; Two divide into Three; and Three give rise to all things. The commentary explains that “One” here is what Zhou Dunyi called “the Limitless and yet the Supreme Ultimate”; “Two” refers to Yin-Yang. When Yin and Yang join, the balanced Qi (vital energy) between them brings forth the Three.

All things bear Yin on their backs and embrace Yang; the merging of Yin and Yang, through balanced Qi, brings them into harmony. The names people dislike are simply “orphan,” “widower,” and “unworthy”—titles rulers use to humble themselves. Yet princes and kings call themselves by these titles. Thus, sometimes a thing is diminished and thereby gains; sometimes it is increased and thereby loses.

What others teach people, I teach as well: “Those who are forceful and aggressive do not meet a good end.” I will take this as the foundation of my teaching.

Chapter 43

The softest thing in the world can pass through the hardest thing in the world. What has no form or substance can enter where there is no gap. From this I know the benefit of Wuwei (non-action). The teaching that does not rely on words, and the benefits of following nature without forcing things, are rarely matched by anything in the world.

Chapter 44

Which is closer to oneself: reputation or life? Which is more precious: life or possessions? Which causes greater anxiety: gain or loss? If someone gains great profit but loses their life as a result, which is truly a calamity?

Therefore, excessive attachment to fame and wealth exacts a heavy price, while hoarding too much often leads to even greater loss. Those who know contentment will not be disgraced; those who know when to stop will not fall into danger. In this way, they can endure.

Chapter 45

What is most perfect may appear incomplete, yet its function never fails. What is most full may appear empty, yet its function never runs out. What is most upright seems crooked; what is most skillful seems clumsy; what is most eloquent seems inarticulate. These all describe cases where appearances seem contrary to reality.

Movement can dispel cold, and stillness can dispel heat. Here the main example is how stillness overcomes heat, with the added point that movement can overcome cold. Stillness and Wuwei (non-action) are the right path for all under Heaven.

Chapter 46

When the Dao prevails under Heaven, warhorses are sent back to till the fields. When the Dao is absent, warhorses breed in the countryside, ready for battle at any moment.

No calamity is greater than not knowing contentment; no fault is more serious than coveting more. Thus, those who know contentment are always content.

Chapter 47

Without leaving home, one can understand the state of the world; without looking out the window, one can perceive the Dao of Heaven. The farther one travels, the less one may know. For when one pursues knowledge solely outward, one’s mind and spirit are drawn along by external things. The farther one goes, the harder it becomes to grasp the root.

Therefore, the sage need not travel far in person to understand; need not see with their own eyes to grasp the principles of things; and need not act deliberately to accomplish things.

Learning leads to ever greater accumulation; cultivating the Dao leads to ever greater reduction. Reduce again and again, until one reaches Wuwei (non-action). Through Wuwei, nothing is left undone. Governing the world generally depends on leaving the people undisturbed and issuing few decrees. If decrees are frequent and interference excessive, the world cannot be governed well.

The sage has no fixed opinions but takes the people’s hearts as their own. I treat the good with kindness, and I also treat the unkind with kindness; in this way, people can be led toward goodness. Here, “De” (Virtue/Power) also carries the meaning of “attaining” or “acquiring.” I trust those who are trustworthy, and I also trust those who are not; in this way, people can be led toward trustworthiness.

The sage lives among the people with humility and restraint, allowing their hearts to return to simplicity. The people attend closely to what they see and hear; the sage regards them all as children and treats them with loving care.

Human beings move from birth toward death. [The Han Feizi says: A person begins with birth and ultimately returns to death. “Emergence” means beginning; “entry” means ending.] Of those who are alive, roughly three in ten are skilled at preserving life; of those moving toward death, roughly three in ten; and there are also people who were alive but, through their actions, set out on the road to death. Such people likewise make up roughly three in ten. Why is this so? Because they cling too avidly to life and pursue pleasure, taking the cultivation of health too far.

[For “three in ten,” Wang Bi’s edition reads “also three in ten”; the wording here has been changed in accordance with the quotation in the Han Feizi. Wang Bi explains that “three in ten” means three parts out of ten: three in ten are skilled at preserving life and take the cultivation of health to its utmost; three in ten move toward death; and the people, by clinging too avidly to life, instead reach a condition with no path to life. Li’s explanation is that the road to death accounts for only three parts out of ten, yet people all rush toward those three parts.]

I have heard that those skilled at caring for life, when walking on land, do not encounter rhinoceroses or tigers, and when entering an army, suffer no harm from weapons. The rhinoceros finds no place to use its horn, the tiger nowhere to set its claws, and weapons nowhere to pierce. Why is this? Because such people do not enter a situation that leads to death.

Chapter 51

The Dao gives birth to the myriad things; De nourishes them. Material substance gives them form, and their surroundings and conditions help them grow and mature. Therefore, there is nothing among the myriad things that does not revere the Dao and value De. The Dao is revered and De is valued not because anyone commands it, but because all things do so naturally.

Thus, the Dao gives birth to the myriad things, and De nourishes them, helping them grow, develop, mature, and multiply, while providing for and sheltering them. The myriad things are born from this, take shape, and grow to fulfillment under varied conditions. Therefore, there is nothing among the myriad things that does not revere the Dao and value De. The Dao is revered and De is valued not because anyone commands it, but because all things do so naturally.

The Dao gives birth to the myriad things but does not claim them as its own; it acts but does not rely on its accomplishments; it helps them grow but does not rule over them. This is called “Mysterious De”—profound and natural virtue.

All things under Heaven have an origin, and this origin is the root of the world. Knowing the root allows one to understand the things that arise from it. After understanding all things, if one still holds fast to the root, one will avoid danger throughout life. Stop up the openings of desire and close its gates, and one will never be worn out by striving. [Wang Bi’s commentary: By doing nothing, one can remain at ease for a long time; thus one is not worn out throughout life.] If one gives free rein to desire and busies oneself with managing affairs, one may never find deliverance throughout life.

To perceive what is subtle is called clarity; to hold fast to the soft and yielding is called strength. Use brightness without displaying it, letting it return to inward insight, and one will not bring misfortune upon oneself. This is called following the constant Dao (the unchanging order).

If I had even a little understanding and walked along the Great Dao, what I would fear most is straying from it. The Great Dao is broad and level, yet people prefer to take narrow paths. The court and palace are splendidly appointed. [Wang Bi’s commentary: “Court” refers to the palace, and “cleansed” means pure and beautiful.] The fields lie fallow and the granaries stand empty, yet people wear fine clothes, carry sharp swords, indulge in food and drink, and accumulate surplus wealth. This is called arrogant display, like a band of thieves. How could such conduct accord with the Dao?

Those who are skilled at establishing things ensure that what they establish cannot be uprooted; those who are skilled at holding on ensure that what they hold on to cannot slip away. In this way, their descendants can continue the ancestral rites from one generation to the next without interruption.

When the Way is used to cultivate oneself, De becomes genuine and substantial. When it is used to govern a family, De becomes abundant. When it is used to govern a community, De gradually grows. When it is used to govern a state, De flourishes. When it is used to govern the world, De spreads far and wide.

Therefore, observe oneself through the Way within oneself, a family through the family, a community through the community, a state through the state, and the world through the world. How do I know what is happening in the world? I know by this principle.

Chapter 55

A person whose De is deeply rooted is like a newborn baby. Poisonous bees, scorpions, and snakes will not sting or bite it; fierce beasts will not pounce on it or crush it; and birds of prey will not seize or claw at it. Its bones are weak and its sinews soft, yet its grasp is firm. It knows nothing yet of sexual union between male and female, but its reproductive organ is erect. This is a sign that its vital essence and Qi are at their fullest. (The text cited in the Shiwén commentary gives an alternate form of the character zhui.)

When Jing (essence) and Qi (vital energy) are abundant to the utmost, an infant can cry all day without becoming hoarse. This is the body in perfect harmony. Knowing how to harmonize is called “constancy”; knowing constancy is called clarity. When desires grow, calamity follows. When the mind drives the breath, this is called forcing. Things that grow strong to the utmost grow old; this is called departing from the Dao (the Way). What departs from the Dao soon perishes.

Chapter 56

Those who truly understand the Dao speak little; those who speak much do not truly understand it. Block the openings of the senses, close the gates of desire, blunt the sharp edges, untangle confusion, soften the radiance, and mingle with the common world. This is called “mysterious sameness,” being in accord with the profound Dao. Such a person is neither drawn close nor kept at a distance, neither treated as a source of gain nor harmed, neither honored nor scorned. Thus, that person becomes one whom all under Heaven revere.

Chapter 57

Govern the state through the proper way, direct warfare through unconventional strategy, and govern all under Heaven through Wuwei (non-action). How do I know this is so? The evidence is here: the more prohibitions there are under Heaven, the poorer the people become. The more sharp weapons the people possess, the more disorderly the state becomes. The more skills people have, the more strange things arise. The more numerous and intricate the laws, the more thieves appear. Therefore the sage says: “When I practice Wuwei, the people transform of themselves; when I cherish stillness, the people set themselves right; when I refrain from meddling, the people grow prosperous of themselves; when I have no desires, the people return of themselves to simplicity.”

Chapter Fifty-Eight

When government is lenient and does not impose petty restrictions, the people remain simple and honest. When government is strict and pries into every detail, the people become crafty and shallow. Misfortune may conceal good fortune, and good fortune may conceal misfortune. Who can say how they will finally change? There are no fixed standards in the world: what is upright can turn into strange, and what is good can become evil. People have been bewildered by this for a long time.

Thus, the sage is upright without harming others, incorruptible without wounding them, honest without being indulgent, and bright without seeking to dazzle.

Chapter Fifty-Nine

In governing the people and serving Heaven, nothing is better than restraint and cherishing what one has. To practice restraint and cherishing is called responding to the Dao early.

The Han Feizi says: “Restraint and cherishing mean valuing the spirit and conserving one’s understanding. This practice arises from following principle. When ordinary people encounter distress and fall into calamity, they still do not know when to yield, nor are they willing to follow principle. The sage follows principle before the signs of calamity appear. That is why only restraint and cherishing are called responding to the Dao early.”

Responding to the Dao early means accumulating De without cease. When De has been accumulated deeply, nothing cannot be overcome. When nothing cannot be overcome, one’s power is beyond measure. When that power is unfathomable, one can govern the state. As for what is called “the mother of the state”—the foundation that allows a state to exist—the Han Feizi explains that it is the Dao. The Dao is the foundation on which the art of governing a state rests, and so it is called “the mother of the state.”

When the Dao is taken as the foundation, the state can endure. This is the principle of deep roots and a firm foundation, enabling lasting life.

Chapter Sixty

Governing a large country is like cooking a small fish: do not turn it over or disturb it too often. Wang Bi says, “This means to refrain from causing disturbance.”

When the world is governed by the Dao (the Way), the uncanny powers of ghosts and spirits do not manifest. Here, “spirit” refers to supernatural power. This does not mean that ghosts and spirits lack such power; rather, their spiritual force remains hidden in the darkness and does not emerge to disturb the living. Nor are ghosts and spirits alone in not harming people: the sage, too, does not harm them. Beings of darkness do not disturb the world of the living, and the sage does not disturb the foolish. Neither ghosts and spirits nor the sage harm people, and so Virtue (De) gathers around the sage. The fact that ghosts and spirits do not harm people is also a result of the sage governing the world through the Dao.

Chapter 61

A large country should be like the lower reaches of a river, lying low and becoming the point where all under heaven converge. It should also be like the female, taking the lower place through gentleness and stillness. The female often prevails through quietness, because quietness places her in a low position.

Thus, when a large country humbles itself before a small one, it can win the small country’s allegiance. When a small country humbles itself before a large one, it can gain the large country’s acceptance. Some countries, then, win the allegiance of others by taking the lower place, while others gain acceptance by doing so. A large country wants only to include and care for other countries; a small country wants only to join and serve a large one. Both can attain what they seek, and so a large country should especially take the humble position.

Chapter 62

The Dao is the hidden foundation of all things. It is the treasure of the good and the refuge by which those who are not good can preserve themselves. Fine words can win trust, and honorable conduct can influence others. Even if someone is of poor character, why should they be cast aside?

Therefore, when appointing the Son of Heaven or naming the Three Dukes—the high ministers who assist in governing—even offering precious jade discs and having a team of four horses lead the carriage is not as good as sitting quietly and presenting the Great Dao. Why did the ancients value the Dao? Was it not because, when seeking something, one could obtain it through the Dao, and when guilty, one could rely on it to receive pardon? Thus the Dao is what all under heaven hold precious.

Chapter 63

Act in harmony with nature, without contrived or reckless effort. When handling affairs, do not create complications artificially; when experiencing things, do not cling to intense flavors. Whether facing great or small matters, much or little gain or loss, respond to resentment with De (Virtue/Power). The commentary mentions the saying in the Analects, “Repay resentment with De—what do you think?” Perhaps this is precisely the kind of view held by Laozi and people like him.

To resolve difficulties, act while they are still easy to handle; to accomplish great things, begin with what is small. The difficult tasks under Heaven must begin where things are easy; the great undertakings under Heaven must begin with what is minute. Thus, the sage never claims to be undertaking great things, and so is able to accomplish them.

Those who make promises lightly often find them hard to keep; those who regard matters as too easy often encounter more difficulties. Thus, the sage always treats things with care, and in the end has no matters that are difficult to handle. “The sage still regards them as difficult” means that the sage recognizes that things call for serious attention, not that the sage deliberately makes them difficult.

When things are stable, they are easy to hold in place. Before a problem shows any signs, it is easy to plan for it. When things are still soft and fragile, they are easy to break down; even the slightest signs are easy to disperse. So deal with things before they come into being, and bring order before disorder takes shape. Wang Bi explains that “before things come into being” means while the situation is stable and no signs have appeared. The words “slight” and “soft and fragile” stress the need to treat a matter’s beginnings with care.

A tree too large for one person to encircle grows from a tiny shoot; a nine-story tower is built up basket by basket of earth; a journey of a thousand miles begins with the first step beneath one’s feet. These examples describe the way all things develop by following their own nature. Deliberate, reckless action leads to failure; clinging and grasping leads to loss. To act deliberately is to force a thing’s growth; to cling and grasp is ultimately to exhaust oneself. Thus the sage follows things’ natural course and does not act recklessly, so does not fail; the sage does not cling and grasp, so does not lose. This is how the sage assists all things in following their own nature.

People often fail when they are close to completing a task. If they were as careful at the end as they were at the beginning, they would not spoil their work. The sage therefore seeks without deliberate striving and does not prize goods that are hard to obtain. The sage studies what ordinary people do not study: how to follow nature, and thereby corrects the ways in which people have strayed from it. The sage assists all things in following their own nature, but does not dare to act recklessly.

Chapter 65

Those in ancient times who were skilled in cultivating the Dao did not seek to make the people appear clever, but sought to keep them simple and unspoiled. Commentators observe that this view resembles the Legalist methods of governing the people in the Qin dynasty. The people are difficult to govern because they are full of cunning and schemes. Thus, governing a state through cleverness and cunning brings disaster to the state; governing without them brings it good fortune.

To understand the difference between these two ways of governing is to grasp the constant principle. To understand and follow this principle at all times is called “Mysterious De,” a profound and subtle virtue. Mysterious De is vast and deep, seemingly opposed to the usual tendencies of all things; in the end, however, it leads to the greatest fulfillment.

Chapter 66

The reason rivers and seas can receive all the streams is that they are good at remaining in low places. Understanding and following the laws of the constant Dao is called “Mysterious De” (profound and subtle virtue). Mysterious De is both deep and enduring. It runs counter to worldly ways, and so ultimately reaches the state of following the Great Dao.

Chapter 66

The reason rivers and seas can receive all the streams is that they willingly remain in low places; this is why they can become the kings of all streams. Therefore, to lead the people, one must speak with humility; to go before them, one must place oneself behind them in action. The sage occupies a high position, yet the people do not feel burdened by him. The sage walks ahead of everyone, yet the people do not feel obstructed. For this reason, people throughout the world gladly choose him and do not grow weary of him. Because he does not contend with others, no one in the world can contend with him.

Chapter 67

Everyone in the world says that my Dao is so vast that it resembles no particular thing. Precisely because it is vast, it resembles no particular thing; if it resembled something, it would long since have become small.

I have three treasures that I always hold fast and cherish. The first is compassion, the second is frugality, and the third is not daring to be first among all under Heaven. Because I am compassionate, I can be brave; because I am frugal, I can give generously; because I do not dare to be first, I can become the leader of all things. Wang Bi’s commentary says that by conserving and cherishing resources, the world will not be in want, and so one can give generously.

Today, people cast aside compassion and seek only courage; cast aside frugality and seek only generosity; cast aside putting themselves last and contend to be first. The result is a path toward death. Wang Bi explains that “moreover” here means “to take up.” If one relies on compassion in battle, one will win; if one relies on it in defense, one will be secure. When Heaven wishes to save someone, it protects that person with compassion; Heaven, too, protects people through compassion.

Those who are skilled at leading troops do not show off their courage or fight fiercely. Those who are skilled at warfare do not give way to anger. Those who are skilled at winning do not engage others in direct conflict. Those who are skilled at employing people can take the lower position and treat others with humility. This is the virtue of not contending, and the strength of making good use of people. It accords with the highest principle of the Dao (the Way).

The saying “There is a saying about the use of troops” means that the ancients once said: “I dare not take the initiative and start a war; I would rather respond to events. I dare not advance an inch; I would rather retreat a foot.” This is called acting as though there were no ranks to arrange, raising one’s arm as though one had no arm, meeting an opponent as though there were no enemy, and wielding a weapon as though there were no weapon. The commentators explain that this means winning through what is unseen. It is precisely what the earlier passage means by not showing force, not giving way to anger, and not contending.

No calamity is greater than underestimating the enemy. To treat the enemy lightly nearly makes me lose what is most precious at my core. So when two armies of equal strength meet in battle, the side that bears sorrow in its heart can prevail.

My words are easy to understand and easy to put into practice, yet no one under Heaven can understand or practice them. My words have a source; my actions have a governing principle. Because people lack this understanding, they do not know me. Those who know me are few, and so those who understand and follow my example are precious. Thus the sage wears coarse cloth on the outside and holds jade within: plain in appearance, precious within.

To know what one does not know is wisdom. To not know, yet think oneself knowledgeable, is a failing. Only by recognizing this failing as a failing can one avoid being troubled by it. The sage is free of this failing because he sees it as a failing; that is why he does not suffer from it.

Note: The original repeats some text at the beginning and in the section marked “Chapter Seventy.” The passages above have been read together according to their meaning.

When the people no longer fear the ruler’s power, greater calamity is near. Do not force them until they have nowhere to live; do not oppress them until they can no longer make a living. Only when the people are not oppressed will they cease to resent the ruler. Thus, the sage understands himself but does not display himself; cherishes himself but does not raise his own worth. So he lets go of the latter and chooses the former.

Chapter 73

Those who act recklessly and press forward are likely to lose their lives; those who are cautious and do not act rashly can preserve their lives. One course may bring good fortune, the other disaster. What does Heaven’s Way abhor? Who knows the reason? Even the sage finds this difficult to determine. Heaven’s Way does not contend with anyone, yet it is skilled at prevailing; it does not issue commands, yet receives a response; it does not summon anything, yet all things return to it of their own accord. It seems calm and unhurried, yet its arrangements are thorough. Heaven’s net is vast and loosely woven, yet nothing slips through it.

Chapter 74

If the people are not afraid of death, how can death be used to frighten them? If the people were always afraid of death, then I could seize and execute those who cause disorder. Who would still dare to rebel? Yet there is always a power in charge of taking life that carries out punishment. To take the place of the one in charge of taking life and kill is like taking the place of a skilled carpenter to cut wood. Few who take up the carpenter’s axe avoid injuring their own hands.

Chapter 75

The people go hungry because the ruler levies too many taxes. The people are difficult to govern because the ruler issues too many orders and interferes too much. The people take death lightly because the ruler pursues an excessively lavish life. Only those who do not devote themselves to the pursuit of health and pleasure surpass those who value life too highly.

Chapter 76

While people are alive, their bodies are soft; after death, they become stiff. Plants are tender and fragile as they grow, but when they wither and die, they become dry and hard. Thus, hardness and strength belong to death, while softness and weakness belong to life. For this reason, weapons that rely on force are unlikely to prevail, and trees that grow too hard will be cut down. Here, “weapons” refers to cutting down trees. The thick, sturdy parts of a tree trunk are at the bottom, while the soft branches are above.

Chapter 77

Isn’t the Dao of Heaven like drawing a bow? When the bowstring is too high, it is pressed down; when it is too low, it is raised. Where there is excess, it is reduced; where there is not enough, it is made up. The way of Heaven is to reduce what is excessive and add to what is insufficient. The ways of the human world are different: people often take from those who lack and use it to support those who have too much. Who can take what they have in excess and offer it to the world? Only a person who follows the Dao can do so. Thus, the sage acts without relying on his own ability, accomplishes his work without claiming it as his own, and does not wish to display his worth.

Chapter 78

Nothing in the world is softer and weaker than water, yet nothing can surpass it or take its place in overcoming what is hard. Water can wear down metal and stone, which shows that the weak can overcome the strong and the soft can overcome the hard. Everyone in the world knows this, but few can put it into practice.

Therefore, the sage says: “One who can bear a nation’s humiliation is fit to be its ruler; one who can bear a nation’s disasters is fit to be the ruler of the world.” Words that are true often sound like their opposite.

Chapter 79

Even when a great grievance has been settled, resentment often remains between the two sides. How can that be considered a truly satisfactory resolution?

Trying to reconcile deep resentment by force will inevitably leave lingering resentment. How can that be considered a truly satisfactory solution? Thus the sage holds a debt contract but does not use it to demand repayment. A person of De (Virtue/Power) is generous and trustworthy, like someone who holds a contract; a person lacking De is harsh and exacting, like an official who collects taxes. The Way of Heaven shows no favoritism; it constantly assists those who do good.

Chapter 80

Let the state be small and its population sparse. Even if there are many kinds of tools, do not put them to use. Let the people value life and not move far away lightly. Though there are boats and carts, let there be no need to ride in them; though there are armor and weapons, let there be no need to display them for battle. Let people return to using knotted cords to keep records. Let the people find their food delicious, their clothes beautiful, their homes comfortable, and their customs enjoyable. Neighboring states can see one another, and the sounds of their chickens and dogs can be heard, yet the people grow old and die without visiting one another.

Chapter 81

Truthful words are not ornate; ornate words are not truthful. Those who are skilled in following the Dao (the Way) do not rely on clever speech; those who rely on clever speech are not truly skilled in following the Dao. Those who are truly wise do not boast of extensive knowledge; those with extensive knowledge are not necessarily truly wise.

The sage does not accumulate private wealth. The commentary says this is because the sage gives things to others rather than keeping them for himself. The more the sage helps others, the more he himself has; the more he gives to others, the richer he becomes. The Way of Heaven benefits all things without harming them. The sage acts by helping all things and does not contend with anyone.

Postscript by Shi Guangying: This commentary on the Laozi was written by Chen Li of Panyu and consists of one volume. I borrowed it from Mr. Wang Jingwu’s home and copied it out. The annotations are very brief, like notes jotted down casually, with little attention to structure. Yet several of his textual investigations are remarkably precise.

For example, on Chapter Fifteen, “Solemn and reserved, as if a guest,” Chen Li points out that “guest” rhymes with “release,” and establishes that the original character should not be mistakenly written as “appearance.” For the line “Thus one can wear out without being newly made,” he follows the Yongle Dadian edition in writing “wear out,” judging the official edition’s “cover” incorrect. On Chapter Thirty-Nine, “When feudal lords and kings have no means to maintain nobility and high rank, they will fall,” he argues that “nobility and high rank” should read “steadfastness.” [Judging from the context, it is difficult to revise this interpretation.] In Wang Bi’s commentary on Chapter Forty-Four, “To gain much profit and lose one’s person—what could be a greater affliction?” he argues that “much” should read “reputation.” On Chapter Fifty-Eight, “How do I know this is so? By this,” he argues that the preceding passage should be assigned to the end of the previous chapter. These observations are all very precise.

This is the work of a classical scholar. Though the notes were casually collected, they are neither vague nor careless, and do not make arbitrary judgments. Mr. Wang faithfully upheld the line of transmission and, fearing that the book might be lost, copied it for preservation. His sincere and devoted care is especially worthy of admiration. I had the book on loan for only seven days, so I had my second daughter, Zhaochun, finish copying it. I then wrote this postscript and returned the book. The twenty-eighth day of the intercalary sixth month in the Gengwu year.

Textual notes

(1) The character “yi” is the same in the Heshanggong and Wang Bi editions. In both the A and B manuscripts on silk from Mawangdui, it is written “yi” with a different tone.

(2) The character “ci” is the same in the Heshanggong and Wang Bi editions. In the B manuscript on silk from Mawangdui, it is written “shi.”

(3) The character “wei” appears in this form in the Heshanggong edition, while the Wang Bi edition writes “wei” with a different tone. The A and B manuscripts on silk from Mawangdui both match the Wang Bi edition.

(4) At this point, the Heshanggong version and the Wang version read “chang shi,” while both A and B versions of the Mawangdui silk manuscripts read “heng shi.”

(5) At this point, the Heshanggong version also has “zhi,” while the Wang version has “zhi” meaning “wisdom.” The A and B Mawangdui silk manuscripts agree with the Heshanggong version.

(6) At this point, the Wang version and both A and B Mawangdui silk manuscripts have “mian.” The Heshanggong version also has “mian.”

(7) The original text omits the character “neng.” It is supplied here on the basis of the Heshanggong and Wang versions.

(8) At this point, the Heshanggong and Wang versions, along with both A and B Mawangdui silk manuscripts, have “shen” (“body”).

(9) At this point, the Wang version has “ye,” the Heshanggong version has “xie,” and both A and B Mawangdui silk manuscripts have “yu.”

(10) At this point, the Heshanggong version has “rui,” the Wang version has “zhuo,” and both A and B Mawangdui silk manuscripts have “dui.”

(11) At this point, the Heshanggong and Wang versions and both A and B Mawangdui silk manuscripts have “chang.” Some versions write “chang” with the meaning “constant.”

(12) This sentence in the Heshanggong version reads “gong cheng ming sui shen tui.” The Wang version and the B Mawangdui silk manuscript read “gong sui shen tui.” The A Mawangdui silk manuscript reads “gong shu shen rui.”

(13) At this point, both the Wang and Heshanggong versions write “wu,” but the Heshanggong version lacks the final particle “hu.” Both A and B Mawangdui silk manuscripts write “wu” in the sense of “do not,” and have “hu” at the end of the sentence.

(14) The Heshanggong and Wang versions and both A and B Mawangdui silk manuscripts all have the character “zhi” after “wei.”

(15) The source text originally reads “[…]”. A check of the Commentary on the True Classic of the Way and Its Virtue by Wu Cheng of the Yuan dynasty, included in the Complete Library of the Four Treasuries, shows that it should read “ni.” The difference was probably introduced by a copying error. The source text reads “ye,” while the Four Treasuries edition reads “yi.”

(16) “Yu yan” agrees with the Wang Bi edition; the Heshang Gong edition reads “yu xi.” Both the A and B manuscripts on silk from Mawangdui read “yue yu he qi.”

(17) “Rong” agrees with the Wang Bi edition. The Heshang Gong edition and both the A and B manuscripts on silk from Mawangdui read “ke.”

(18) Some people, following the Heshang Gong edition included in the Daoist Canon, have inserted the character “zhi” after “yi.” But the Heshang Gong edition included in the Four Treasuries, the Wang Bi edition, and both the A and B manuscripts on silk from Mawangdui have no “zhi” there.

(19) The Heshang Gong edition, the Wang Bi edition, and the A manuscript on silk from Mawangdui all write “wei” as “wei.”

(20) “Wei” is the same in the Heshang Gong edition, the Wang Bi edition, and both the A and B manuscripts on silk from Mawangdui. Some write it as “yue,” but the basis for this reading is unknown.

(21) The Heshang Gong edition writes “you yan” as “you xi”; the Wang Bi edition reads “you xi”; and the B manuscript on silk from Mawangdui reads “you he.”

(22) The Heshang Gong edition writes “hui zhi” as “zhi hui”; the Wang Bi edition reads “hui zhi”; the A manuscript on silk from Mawangdui reads “zhi kuai,” and the B manuscript reads “zhi hui.”

The Heshang Gong edition writes “hui zhi” as “zhi hui”; the Wang Bi edition reads “hui zhi”; the A manuscript on silk from Mawangdui reads “zhi kuai,” and the B manuscript reads “zhi hui.”

(23) The Heshang Gong edition, the Wang Bi edition, and both the A and B manuscripts on silk from Mawangdui all write “yu” as “yu.”

(24) “He ruo” is written the same way in the Heshang Gong edition and both the A and B manuscripts on silk from Mawangdui; the Wang Bi edition reads “ruo he.”

(25) The Heshang Gong recension does not include the graph “neng”; it appears in the Wang Bi recension and in both A and B copies of the Mawangdui silk manuscripts.

(26) After “kuang,” the Heshang Gong and Wang Bi recensions, as well as the B copy of the Mawangdui silk manuscripts, include “yu.”

(27) The graph “de” agrees with the Wang Bi recension; the Heshang Gong recension reads “shi.” This passage differs from the text here in both A and B copies of the Mawangdui silk manuscripts.

(28) The graph “qi” agrees with the Wang Bi recension. The B copy of the Mawangdui silk manuscripts has “yu” after it.

(27) The graph “de” agrees with the Wang Bi recension; the Heshang Gong recension reads “shi.” This passage differs from the text here in both A and B copies of the Mawangdui silk manuscripts.

(28) The graph “qi” agrees with the Wang Bi recension; the Heshang Gong recension reads “qi” with the alternate pronunciation “qi” (written “qi”).

(29) The Wang Bi recension has “ye” at the end of the sentence, as does the Heshang Gong recension; however, the Heshang Gong recension writes “yu” where this text has “zai.”

(30) The Heshang Gong recension and the B copy of the Mawangdui silk manuscripts include an extra “er” after “li”; the Wang Bi recension does not.

(31) The graph “wang” is the same in the Heshang Gong and Wang Bi recensions and in both A and B copies of the Mawangdui silk manuscripts. The Song dynasty Fan Yingyang recension reads “ren.”

(32) In both A and B copies of the Mawangdui silk manuscripts, “yu” is written as “guo.”

(33) The graph “wang” is the same in the Heshang Gong and Wang Bi recensions and in both A and B copies of the Mawangdui silk manuscripts. The Song dynasty Fan Yingyang recension reads “ren.”

(34) The graph “ben” is the same in the Wang Bi recension and in both A and B copies of the Mawangdui silk manuscripts. The Song dynasty Fan Yingyang recension reads “ren.” (The source repeats its account of the recensions at this point.)

(34) The graph “ben” is the same in the Wang Bi recension and in both A and B copies of the Mawangdui silk manuscripts. The Heshang Gong recension reads “chen.” Quotations in the Han Feizi, “Yu Lao,” and the Yongle Dadian read “gen.”

(35) The graph “shu” is the same in the Wang Bi recension and in both A and B copies of the Mawangdui silk manuscripts. The Heshang Gong recension reads “ji.”

(36) In both A and B copies of the Mawangdui silk manuscripts, “chang” is written as “heng.”

(37) Some versions have an additional character, “cherish,” after “love.” The Heshang Gong and Wang Bi editions, as well as Silk Manuscript A and Silk Manuscript B from Mawangdui, do not include it.

(38) The character “infant” is also written as “infant” in the Wang Bi edition and Mawangdui Silk Manuscript A. The Heshang Gong edition likewise has “infant.”

(39) The Heshang Gong and Wang Bi editions, as well as Mawangdui Silk Manuscript B, do not include the character “not.”

(40) The character “have” agrees with the Wang Bi edition; the Heshang Gong edition and Mawangdui Silk Manuscripts A and B have “those who.”

(41) The character “calm” agrees with the Wang Bi edition; the Heshang Gong edition has “calm.” Mawangdui Silk Manuscript A writes “quiet and calm” as “sharp and reserved,” while Manuscript B has “sharp.”

(42) “Nothing under Heaven can make it a subject” agrees with the Wang Bi edition. The Heshang Gong edition reads “Under Heaven, none dare make it a subject,” while Mawangdui Silk Manuscript B reads “And under Heaven, none dare make it a subject.”

(43) The character “indeed” agrees with the Wang Bi edition; the Heshang Gong edition has “Heaven.” The character “stop” also agrees with the Wang Bi edition; the Heshang Gong edition has “it.” Mawangdui Silk Manuscript B agrees with the Wang Bi edition at both points.

(44) The character “stop” agrees with the Wang Bi edition; the Heshang Gong edition has “it.” The character “can” also agrees with the Wang Bi edition; the Heshang Gong edition has “place.” Mawangdui Silk Manuscript B reads, “Know where to stop, and so avoid danger,” meaning that knowing when enough is enough enables one to avoid danger.

(45) The character “in” agrees with the Wang Bi edition; the Heshang Gong edition has “with.” Mawangdui Silk Manuscripts A and B both agree with the Heshang Gong edition.

(46) “Clothe and nourish” agrees with the Wang Bi edition; the Heshang Gong edition has “love and nourish,” and the Yongle Encyclopedia has “clothe.” Mawangdui Silk Manuscripts A and B instead read, “The myriad things return to it, yet it does not act as their master.”

(47) The graph “yu” appears as “yu” in both the Heshang Gong and Wang Bi editions, but as “wei” in Mawangdui Silk Manuscript B.

(48) The graph “wei” appears as “wei” in both the Heshang Gong and Wang Bi editions, but as “yu” in both Mawangdui Silk Manuscripts A and B.

(49) The wording of this sentence is the same in the Heshang Gong edition; Mawangdui Silk Manuscript B has “wei.”

(48) The graph “wei” appears as “wei” in both the Heshang Gong and Wang Bi editions, but as “yu” in both Mawangdui Silk Manuscripts A and B.

(49) The Heshang Gong edition reads, “This is why the sage never considers himself great, from beginning to end.” Mawangdui Silk Manuscript B reads, “The sage is able to accomplish great things because he does not consider himself great.”

(50) The graph “lü” appears as “shou” in the Heshang Gong edition included in the Siku collection.

(51) The graph “tai” is the same in the Heshang Gong and Wang Bi editions and in Mawangdui Silk Manuscripts A and B. Some editions write it as “tai.”

(52) The phrase “the state is peaceful and the household is tranquil” appears as “the state is peaceful, the household tranquil” in the Heshang Gong edition included in the Siku collection.

(53) The graph “zu” also appears as “zu” in the Wang Bi edition, but as “ke” in the Heshang Gong edition and Mawangdui Silk Manuscripts A and B.

(54) The graph “xi” also appears as “xi” in the Wang Bi edition, but as “xi” in the Heshang Gong edition. Mawangdui Silk Manuscript A has “shi”; Manuscript B has no legible character.

(55) The graph “yu” appears as “yu” in the Wang Bi edition and in Mawangdui Silk Manuscripts A and B, but as “shi” in the Heshang Gong edition.

(56) The Wang Bi edition and Mawangdui Silk Manuscripts A and B all include the graph “zhi” at the end of the sentence; the Heshang Gong edition and the Yongle Encyclopedia edition do not.

(57) The Wang Bi edition includes the character fu; the Heshang Gong edition does not. Both editions have wu; the Heshang Gong edition has bu instead. Both the A and B manuscripts from Mawangdui read, “Fu jiang bu ru, bu ru…”

(58) The character reng matches the Wang Bi edition. The Heshang Gong edition has reng (a variant reading), while both Mawangdui manuscripts have nai.

(59) The character zhen matches the Wang Bi edition. The Heshang Gong edition and both Mawangdui manuscripts have zheng.

(60) The character jue matches the Wang Bi edition, and the Heshang Gong edition also has jue. The B manuscript from Mawangdui has jue (a variant graph).

(61) The character gu matches the Wang Bi edition; the Heshang Gong edition has gu (a variant graph). Both Mawangdui manuscripts write gu without the shu component.

(60) The character jue matches the Wang Bi edition, and the Heshang Gong edition also has jue. The B manuscript from Mawangdui has jue (a variant graph).

(61) The character gu matches the Wang Bi edition; the Heshang Gong edition has gu (a variant graph). The forms in both Mawangdui manuscripts lack the shu component.

(62) The two instances of yu are identical in the Wang Bi edition; the Heshang Gong edition writes both as che. The A manuscript from Mawangdui has yu (a variant graph), and the B manuscript has yu.

(63) Luoluo matches the Wang Bi edition. The Heshang Gong edition has luoluo (a variant reading), while both Mawangdui manuscripts have gege.

(64) The character gu matches the Wang Bi edition; the Heshang Gong edition has gu (a variant graph). The forms in both Mawangdui manuscripts lack the shu component.

(65) Shi yi is the same in the Wang Bi edition and the A manuscript from Mawangdui; the Heshang Gong edition has yi shi.

(66) Before this sentence, the Heshang Gong edition and both Mawangdui manuscripts include an additional line: “No crime is greater than indulging desire.” The Wang Bi edition does not have this line. The fragment at the end, “The Heshang edition has yi shi,” also indicates that the Heshang Gong edition reads yi shi here.

(66) Before this sentence, the Heshang Gong version and Mawangdui manuscripts A and B all add the sentence, “No fault is greater than indulging desire.” The Wang Bi version does not include it.

(67) At the end of the sentence, the Wang Bi version and Mawangdui manuscripts A and B all have the word yi. The Heshang Gong version does not.

(68) The Wang Bi version also writes the character as kui, as does the Heshang Gong version. Mawangdui manuscript A has gui, while manuscript B has gui jian.

(69) The Wang Bi version also writes the word xixi this way. The Heshang Gong version has chuchu. Mawangdui manuscript A has yan, while manuscript B has xixixian.

(70) The Wang Bi version includes the word yi; the Heshang Gong version does not. In Mawangdui manuscript A, the sentence reads, “As people live vigorously, they all move toward the land of death; of every ten, three.” Manuscript B reads, “As people live vigorously, they all move toward the land of death; of every ten, three.”

(71) The Wang Bi version also has the word bei, while the Heshang Gong version has bi. In Mawangdui manuscript A, the sentence reads, “Entering an army, one does not wear armor or weapons.” Manuscript B reads, “Entering an army, one does not wear weapons or armor.”

(72) The Wang Bi version and Mawangdui manuscript B both have “nurture them and bring them to maturity.” The Heshang Gong version reads, “bring them to completion and ripen them.”

(73) The Wang Bi version and Mawangdui manuscripts A and B all have the word de. The Heshang Gong version has zhi.

(74) The Wang Bi version and Mawangdui manuscripts A and B all have the word yi. The Heshang Gong version has fu.

(75) The Heshang Gong and Wang Bi versions both have xi for the word xi. Mawangdui manuscript A has xi.

(76) The Heshang Gong and Wang Bi versions, as well as Mawangdui manuscripts A and B, all have shen for the word qi.

(77) The character “cai” appears as “cai” in both the Heshang Gong and Wang versions, and as “cai” in both the Mawangdui A and B manuscripts.

(78) The character “kua” is the same in the Heshang Gong and Wang versions. When quoted in Han Feizi, “Yu Lao,” it appears as “yu”; in the Mawangdui B manuscript, it appears as “yu.”

(79) The Wang version includes the character “ye,” which is absent from the Heshang Gong version. This line is damaged in both the Mawangdui A and B manuscripts, so the characters cannot be made out.

(80) Both the Wang version and the Mawangdui A and B manuscripts include the character “yi”; it is absent from the Heshang Gong version.

(81) The character “bang” appears as “guo” in both the Heshang Gong and Wang versions. The Mawangdui A manuscript has “bang,” while the B manuscript has “guo.”

(82) After “xia,” the Heshang Gong version and the Mawangdui B manuscript each include an additional “zhi”; the Wang version does not.

(83) The phrase “feng chai hui she” (bees, scorpions, venomous snakes, and the like) also appears in the Wang version, while the Heshang Gong version reads “du chong” (poisonous creatures). The Mawangdui A manuscript reads “feng di fu shi” (they do not sting or bite), while the B manuscript reads “feng li chong she fu he.”

(84) The character “jue” also appears in the Wang version; the Heshang Gong version has “jue.” The Mawangdui A manuscript reads “niao meng shou fu bo,” while the B manuscript reads “ju niao meng shou fu bu.”

(85) The character here is missing from the extant text. The Heshang Gong version has the same character; the Wang version has “quan,” and the Mawangdui B manuscript has “juan.”

(86) The Heshang Gong recension (a commentary on the Laozi) and the Mawangdui Silk Manuscripts, Versions A and B, each have an extra “yi” at the beginning of the sentence; the Wang Bi recension does not. The character shu is written as “shu” in the Heshang Gong and Wang Bi recensions, and as “shu” in Mawangdui Version A.

(87) The Heshang Gong recension and Mawangdui Version A each have an extra “yi” at the beginning of the sentence; the Wang Bi recension does not.

(88) The Heshang Gong recension and Mawangdui Versions A and B each have an extra “yi” at the beginning of the sentence; the Wang Bi recension does not.

(89) There is an extra “yi” at the beginning of the sentence; the Wang Bi recension does not have it.

(88) The Heshang Gong recension and Mawangdui Versions A and B each have an extra “yi” at the beginning of the sentence; the Wang Bi recension does not.

(89) The Wang Bi recension has the same character ling; the Heshang Gong recension and Mawangdui Versions A and B have wu.

(90) The Wang Bi recension has the same character yao; the Heshang Gong recension has yao.

(91) The Wang Bi recension has the same character ren; the Heshang Gong recension has min.

(92) The Wang Bi recension has the same character gui; the Heshang Gong recension has hai, while Mawangdui Version B has ci.

(93) The Wang Bi recension has the same character yao; the Heshang Gong recension has yao, while Mawangdui Version B has tiao.

(94) The Wang Bi recension has the same character ke. The Siku recension also has ke; the same applies below.

(95) This sentence is the same in the Heshang Gong and Wang Bi recensions. Mawangdui Version A reads: “The female always overcomes the male through stillness; through its stillness … it is suited to remain below.” Version B reads: “The female always overcomes the male through stillness. Because it is still, it is suited to remain below.”

(96) The Wang Bi recension has the same character gu; the Heshang Gong recension and Mawangdui Versions A and B all have yu.

(97) The Wang Bi recension has the same character xie; the Heshang Gong recension has ye, while Mawangdui Version A has yu xia ye.

(96) The Wang Bi recension has the same character gu; the Heshang Gong recension and Mawangdui Versions A and B all have yu.

(97) The character “xie” is the same as in the Wang Bi recension. The Heshang Gong recension writes “ye,” while Mawangdui Silk Manuscript A writes “yu” and Manuscript B writes “yu.”

(98) The Heshang Gong and Wang Bi recensions, as well as Mawangdui Silk Manuscripts A and B, all omit the following character “yi.”

(99) The Heshang Gong recension and Mawangdui Silk Manuscript A omit “yi” at the end of the sentence; the Wang Bi recension includes it.

(100) The character “pan” is the same as in the Wang Bi recension; the Heshang Gong recension writes “po.” This passage is damaged in both Mawangdui Silk Manuscripts A and B.

(101) The Heshang Gong recension omits the two characters “shi yi,” which appear in the Wang Bi recension and Mawangdui Silk Manuscript B.

(102) The Heshang Gong recension omits “gu,” which appears in the Wang Bi recension and Mawangdui Silk Manuscripts A and B.

(103) The character “ji” is the same as in the Wang Bi recension and Mawangdui Silk Manuscripts A and B; the Heshang Gong recension writes “kai.” The same applies below.

(104) The Heshang Gong recension and Mawangdui Silk Manuscripts A and B omit the two characters “ran hou,” which appear in the Wang Bi recension. After “zhi,” the Heshang Gong recension has an additional “yu”; the Wang Bi recension and Mawangdui Silk Manuscripts A and B do not.

(105) The Heshang Gong recension omits “qi,” which appears in the Wang Bi recension and Mawangdui Silk Manuscripts A and B.

(106) After “yi,” the Heshang Gong recension and Mawangdui Silk Manuscripts A and B add the two characters “sheng ren”; the Wang Bi recension does not.

(107) The Heshang Gong recension and Mawangdui Silk Manuscript B omit “dao,” which appears in the Wang Bi recension.

(108) The Heshang Gong recension omits “ye,” which appears in the Wang Bi recension and Mawangdui Silk Manuscript B. Mawangdui Silk Manuscript A writes “xi jiu yi.”

Here are the textual variants collated for entries 109–118 in Commentary on the Laozi, comparing the Wang Bi edition (Wang edition), the Heshanggong edition, and the A and B manuscripts from Mawangdui:

• 109: The character “bao” is the same as in the Wang edition; the Heshanggong edition has “bao,” while the graph at this point is not recorded in the Mawangdui B manuscript. Another note says the Heshanggong edition lacks “ye,” which appears in the Wang edition and the Mawangdui B manuscript; the Mawangdui A manuscript reads “xi jiu yi.”
• 110: Both the Heshanggong and Wang editions add “gu” after “tian” and place a sentence break at “tian.” The Mawangdui A manuscript reads “shi wei tian gu zhi ji ye,” while the B manuscript reads “shi wei fei tian gu zhi ji ye.”
• 111: “Reng” is the same as in the Wang edition; the Heshanggong edition has “reng,” and both Mawangdui manuscripts A and B have “nai.”
• 112: In the Heshanggong and Wang editions and both Mawangdui manuscripts A and B, “wei” is written as “wei.”
• 113: In the Heshanggong and Wang editions, “wei” is written as “wei.” This sentence in the Mawangdui B manuscript reads “yi qi bing bing.”
• 114: The Heshanggong edition lacks “ze” and has an additional “yi” at the end of the sentence; the Wang edition has “ze” but no “yi.” The Mawangdui B manuscript reads “ze da wei jiang zhi yi.” Another note says the Heshanggong edition lacks “ze” and has one extra character at the end; all editions have “wei,” while the Mawangdui B manuscript reads “yi qi bing bing.”
• 115: “Xia” is the same as in the Wang edition; the Heshanggong edition has “xia,” and the Mawangdui A manuscript has “zha.” The graph at this point is not recorded in the B manuscript.
• 116: The Heshanggong edition lacks “fu”; the Wang edition and both Mawangdui manuscripts A and B include it.
• 117: “Shu” is the same as in the Wang edition and the Mawangdui B manuscript; the Heshanggong edition writes it as “shu.”
• 118: The Heshanggong edition and the Mawangdui manuscripts A and B both lack the second occurrence of “sha”; the Wang edition includes it.

(119) In the Heshanggong recension, this sentence reads, “Whoever takes the place of the one charged with killing is said to take the place of the master craftsman in cutting.”

(118) The Heshanggong recension and Mawangdui Silk Manuscripts A and B both omit the later occurrence of the character “kill”; the Wang Bi recension includes it.

(119) In the Heshanggong recension, this sentence reads, “Whoever takes the place of the one charged with killing is said to take the place of the master craftsman in cutting.” The Wang Bi recension reads, “Whoever takes the place of the one charged with killing and kills is said to take the place of the master craftsman in cutting.” Mawangdui Silk Manuscript A reads, “Whoever takes the place of the one charged with killing and kills is like taking the place of the master craftsman in cutting”; Manuscript B reads, “Whoever takes the place of the one charged with killing and kills is said to take the place of the master craftsman in cutting.”

(120) After the character “cut,” the Heshanggong and Wang Bi recensions and Mawangdui Silk Manuscript A all have an additional character meaning “one who”; Manuscript B does not.

(121) The Heshanggong recension reads, “Few are those who do not injure their hands.” The Wang Bi recension reads, “Few are those who do not injure their hands.” Mawangdui Silk Manuscript A reads, “Then □ do not injure their hands”; Manuscript B reads, “Then few do not injure their hands.”

(122) The Heshanggong and Wang Bi recensions and Mawangdui Silk Manuscripts A and B all use the character for “hunger.”

(123) The phrase “does not prevail” is the same in all recensions; some editions read “destroy.”

(124) The character for “weapons” is the same in the Wang Bi recension. The Heshanggong recension reads “together”; Mawangdui Silk Manuscript A reads “constant”; Manuscript B reads “contend.”

(125) The character for “and” is the same in the Wang Bi recension. The Heshanggong recension reads “in”; Mawangdui Silk Manuscripts A and B both read “also.”

(126) The character “bu” is written as “bu” in both Wang Bi’s edition and Mawangdui Silk Manuscript A; Heshang Gong’s edition has “yu.”

(127) The character “bu” is written as “bu” in both Heshang Gong’s and Wang Bi’s editions; Mawangdui Silk Manuscript B has “yi.”

(128) This sentence reads “Nothing under heaven is softer and weaker than water” in Heshang Gong’s edition. Wang Bi’s edition and Mawangdui Silk Manuscripts A and B all read “Nothing under heaven is softer and weaker than water.”

(129) The character “zhi” is written as “zhi” in both Wang Bi’s edition and Mawangdui Silk Manuscript A; Heshang Gong’s edition has “zhi.”

(130) The character “yi” is written as “zhi” in Wang Bi’s and Heshang Gong’s editions, and in Mawangdui Silk Manuscript B.

(131) The two characters “shi yi” appear as “shi yi” in Wang Bi’s edition, “gu” in Heshang Gong’s edition and Mawangdui Silk Manuscript A, and “shi gu” in Mawangdui Silk Manuscript B.

(132) After the character “guo,” Heshang Gong’s edition and Mawangdui Silk Manuscripts A and B each have an additional “zhi”; Wang Bi’s edition does not. In Mawangdui Silk Manuscript A, “guo” is written as “bang.”

(133) After the character “bo,” Heshang Gong’s edition and Mawangdui Silk Manuscripts A and B each have an additional “ren”; Wang Bi’s edition does not. In Mawangdui Silk Manuscripts A and B, “bo” is written as “bai.”

(134) The character “yu” is written as “yu” in both Wang Bi’s and Heshang Gong’s editions; Mawangdui Silk Manuscripts A and B both have “che.”

(135) The character “ren” appears as “ren” in Wang Bi’s edition; Heshang Gong’s edition and Mawangdui Silk Manuscript B have “min.”

(136) In some editions, the character “jing” is written as “jing.”

The final surviving character “che” is written as “che” in both Mawangdui Silk Manuscripts A and B.

(135) The character “ren” is the same as in the Wang Bi edition; the Heshang Gong edition and Mawangdui B manuscript both have “min.”

(136) The character “jing” is also written as “jing” in some editions.

(137) “Gengwu” refers to the year 1930 CE.