《道德经（唐易州龙兴观道德经碑本）》

Qian Daxin wrote that, on investigation, the edition annotated by Heshang Gong (Heshang Gong) places the text from "The Dao that can be told of" (dao ke dao) onward in the first fascicle of the Dao Jing (Daojing, Scripture of the Dao), and places the text from "The highest De is not De" (shang de bu de) onward in the second fascicle of the De Jing (Dejing, Scripture of De). When Chao Shuozhi wrote a colophon for the edition annotated by Wang Bi (Wang Bi), he held that this edition did not divide the Daojing and Dejing into upper and lower fascicles, and so it was closer to the ancient text. Qian Daxin pointed out that Chao did not know that the Jingdian Shiwen (Jingdian Shiwen, Explanations of Terms in the Classics), compiled by Lu Deming (Lu Deming), followed the Wang Bi edition exactly. That work labels the sections "Daojing, juan shang" and "Dejing, juan xia," which is no different from the Heshang Gong edition. What Chao saw was only a manuscript copy made in the Song dynasty. To regard it as closer to the ancient text shows that he had not examined the matter thoroughly.

Our family collection holds five stone-inscribed copies of the Daodejing. Only the imperially annotated edition of Emperor Xuanzong of Tang and this stele text divide the Daojing and Dejing into two parts, which suggests that the arrangement of chapters from the Han and Wei periods onward was broadly like this. The stele text was carved in the early Tang, and its characters and sentences differ from other editions in many places. For example, some characters appear in archaic forms that are written as wu, yu, yun, yu, mang, zuo, and xi. Where other editions read "gu neng bi bu xin cheng" (therefore able to conceal, not newly completed), the stone reads "neng bi fu cheng" (able to conceal and again complete). After the line "where the army dwells, thorns and brambles grow," the stone omits the two lines "after a great army, there must come bad harvest years." After "the high general stands on the right," the stone omits the phrase "treat it with funeral rites." The passage "fu wei bing bing, shi yi bu bing; sheng ren bu bing, yi qi bing bing, shi yi bu bing" appears on the stone only as "Therefore the sage is not ill, because he regards illness as illness, and therefore is not ill." Differences of this kind show that the stone copy is highly valuable. Here I have given only one or two examples, to show why ancient inscriptions deserve to be treasured.

Wu Yi said that dividing the Laozi into the Daojing, upper fascicle, and the Dejing, lower fascicle, also comes close to the ancient edition.

Lu You (Lu Fangweng) wrote in a colophon: "Chao Yidao held that the Laozi edition established by Wang Bi (Wang Fusi) did not divide the text into a Dao Jing (Scripture of the Dao) and a De Jing (Scripture of De) arranged as upper and lower parts, and that this arrangement may therefore be closer to the ancient text." But the version in circulation today has long separated the Daojing and the Dejing. From this it follows that by the Song dynasty, the edition arranged by Wang Bi had already been lost.

The commentary of Xing Bing on the Analects now quotes the Dejing of the Laozi: "The net of Heaven is vast; its meshes are wide, yet nothing slips through." This, too, is a passage that can serve as evidence for textual research.

Turning to the annotations on the Book of Han, Yan Shigu, in the biography of Wei Bao, cites the Daojing of the Laozi: "When the state is in chaos, loyal ministers appear." In the biography of Tian Heng, he cites the Dejing: "Nobility takes lowliness as its root, and height takes lowliness as its foundation. Therefore the lords and kings call themselves 'the orphaned,' 'the widowed,' and 'the ungracious.'" In the biography of the King of Chu's Kin, he cites the Dejing again: "To know contentment is to suffer no disgrace."

In the biography of Yan Zhu, a passage attributed to Laozi reads, "Where an army has camped, brambles and thorns grow." Yan Shigu's note says this is from the Daojing. The biography of Yang Xiong contains the phrase "Few are those who know me, and so I am prized." Yan Shigu notes that the Dejing says, "The fewer who know me, the more I am esteemed." The biography of the Harsh Officials quotes Laozi: "Superior De does not seek to be De, and therefore has De; inferior De does not lose its De, and therefore has no De. When laws and edicts multiply, bandits and thieves abound." Yan Shigu comments that this is from the Dejing.

"When a lesser scholar hears of the Dao, he laughs at it loudly." Yan Shigu says this line is from the Daojing.

The commentary in the Treatise on the Western Regions quotes the Dejing of the Laozi: "When the world possesses the Dao, racing horses are turned back to till the fields..."

The Laozi was quoted in the Western Regions' commentarial tradition under the title De Jing: "When the world has the Dao, racing horses are turned back to fertilize the fields." This shows that some early editions of the Laozi divided the text into a Dao Jing (Classic of the Dao) and a De Jing (Classic of De), and that quotations from them were labeled by section, in agreement with the titles Dao Jing Yinyi (Phonetic and Semantic Glosses on the Dao Jing) and De Jing Yinyi (Phonetic and Semantic Glosses on the De Jing) that appear in the glosses.

Jia Gongyan, in his Commentary on the Duties of the Master of Instruction in the Rites of Zhou (Zhouli Shishi Shu), likewise says that the Dao Jing of the Laozi begins with "The Dao that can be spoken of is not the constant Dao," and then quotes the De Jing: "Superior De does not claim to have De, and therefore has De." Prince Zhanghuai, when annotating the Book of the Later Han (Hou Han Shu), also cites the Dao Jing of the Laozi in the biography of Zhai □, saying, "Fish cannot escape from the deep." These early Tang figures, when quoting the Laozi, all refer to its two parts separately as the Dao Jing and the De Jing. (The Stele of the Dream Guest also states: "Examining the Dao Jing, one finds compassion to be the treasure.") These usages probably follow older editions from the Jin and Song periods, so the stele's division of the Laozi into a Dao Jing and a De Jing has a firm basis.

Wang Chang observes that the upper scroll of the stele is titled Laozi Dao Jing and the lower scroll Laozi De Jing, with Dao and De presented separately rather than merged into a single text. This indicates that the commentary attributed to Emperor Xuanzong was based on an ancient edition of exactly this kind. Dong Jiong, in his Record of Book Collections (Cangshu Zhi), holds that only after Xuanzong completed his commentary were the chapters reorganized into the Daodejing (Classic of the Dao and De), with the material on the Dao placed in the upper scroll and that on De in the lower. Wang Chang rejects this view.

Wu Yun said: The Bibliographic Treatise of the Book of Sui (Suishu Jingji Zhi) records that the Daodejing was divided into two fascicles and carried commentary by Wang Bi. When Chao Shuozhi and Xiong Ke later wrote colophons, both said that the original Daodejing was not divided into a "Dao Scripture" (Daojing) and a "De Scripture" (Dejing). The commonly circulated edition, however, is in fact divided into upper and lower fascicles, so some have suspected that the printers added this division later.

Still, Xing Bing's Commentary on the Analects (Lunyu Shu) quotes the lines "The net of heaven is vast, its meshes wide" from the De section of the Laozi, and Yan Shigu's commentary on the Book of Han (Hanshu Zhu) repeatedly cites both the Dao and De sections of the Laozi. From this it appears that the division of the Laozi into Daojing and Dejing did not begin with Lu Deming. The stele also titles its sections "De Scripture," which is probably based on a genuine source.

Sun Yirang said that the upper and lower parts of the Laozi, comprising eighty-one chapters in all, were titled "Dao Scripture" and "De Scripture." The Heshanggong edition, the Wang Bi commentary recorded in Lu Deming's Classic Commentaries and Glosses (Jingdian Shiwen), the Tang-dynasty edition collated by Fu Yi in the Daoist Canon (Daozang), and the stone-carved edition with commentary by Emperor Xuanzong of Tang all adopt this division.

The Mouzi's Treatise Resolving Doubts (Mouzi Lihuo Lun), preserved in the Collection for the Propagation and Clarification of Buddhism (Hongming Ji), says: "What is discussed amounts to thirty-seven items, and it also relies on the thirty-seven chapters of the Dao Scripture of the Master Lao." This indicates that by the Han dynasty the work was already divided into Daojing and Dejing. The Daojing has thirty-seven chapters and the Dejing has forty-four, which matches the surviving editions. The Wang Bi edition in circulation today was collated by Chao Shuozhi in the Song dynasty and does not separate the Daojing from the Dejing. This arrangement is coherent in meaning, but it is not the original form of the Han and Tang texts.

Laozi Daojing (Scripture of the Dao), Chapter One

The Dao (the Way) that can be spoken of is not the constant Dao; the name that can be named is not the constant name. "Nameless" is the beginning of heaven and earth; "named" is the source of the ten thousand things.

Therefore, by constantly observing from non-being (wu), one can apprehend the subtle wonders of the Dao; by constantly observing from being (you), one can see its boundaries and its manifestations. Non-being and being both issue from the same Dao yet bear different names. Both may be called profound and mysterious (xuan). Mystery within mystery is the gateway to all subtleties.

Chapter Three

When everyone in the world knows that beauty is beauty, the notion of the beautiful arises from this; when everyone knows that goodness is goodness, the notion of the not-good arises with it. Thus having and lacking give rise to one another, difficulty and ease complete one another, long and short reveal one another, high and low depend on one another, sound and voice harmonize with one another, and front and back follow one another.

Therefore, the sage manages affairs through wuwei (non-action) and conducts teaching without relying on words. When the myriad things arise, he does not interfere; he nurtures them without claiming them as his own; he acts without relying on his own merit; and when the work is accomplished, he does not dwell on it. It is precisely because he does not dwell on it that his achievement never departs.

Chapter Three

By not exalting the worthy, the common people will not compete for fame and advantage; by not prizing rare goods, they will not steal; by not displaying what might arouse desire, their hearts will not be thrown into confusion.

The sage governs the realm by keeping the people's minds simple and their lives full, weakening their contentious impulses and strengthening the root of their bodies. He constantly keeps the people free of cunning knowledge and desire, and keeps those who think themselves clever from daring to act rashly. In this way, the realm is well ordered.

Chapter Four

The Dao (the Way), the fundamental ground by which all things operate, is empty and formless, yet its functioning is enduring and never exhausted. How profound it is, the source of the myriad things! It blunts its sharpness, resolves entanglements, softens its light, and merges itself with the dust of the world. Deep and still, it endures forever.

I do not know from whence the Dao comes; its form seems to have preceded the Heavenly Emperor (Tiandi).

Chapter Five

Heaven and Earth show no partiality; they regard the myriad things as straw dogs used in sacrifice. The sage likewise shows no partiality; he regards the common people as straw dogs. Between Heaven and Earth, is it not like a bellows? It is hollow yet never collapses; the more it is worked, the more it yields. Too many words quickly lead to exhaustion; it is better to keep the heart centered within.

Chapter Six

The Valley Spirit (Gushen), the Dao as an empty valley that is able to give birth to and transform the myriad things, never dies. This is called the Mysterious Female (Xuanpin), the deep maternal source. The gate of the Mysterious Female is the root of Heaven and Earth. It continues unbroken, as if it were always there, and in its use it never runs dry.

Chapter Seven

Heaven endures and Earth endures. The reason Heaven and Earth can endure so long is that they do not live for their own sake. Therefore the sage places himself behind, yet finds himself in front; he sets his own person aside, yet his person is preserved. Is it not because he is selfless that he is able to fulfill himself?

Chapter Eight

The highest good is like water. Water nourishes all things yet does not contend with them. It dwells in the low places that people despise, and so it comes closest to the Dao (the Way). In choosing a dwelling, one selects a suitable place. In the mind, one keeps a heart as deep and still as a pool. In dealings with others, one is sincere. In speech, one keeps one's word. In governing, one is orderly. In affairs, one makes full use of one's abilities. In action, one seizes the right moment. Because one does not contend, there is no fault and no resentment.

Chapter Eight

The highest good is like water. Water nourishes all things, yet does not contend with them. It dwells in the low places that all people despise, and so it comes closest to the Dao. In choosing a dwelling, one selects a suitable place. In the mind, one maintains depth and stillness. In dealings with others, one is sincere. In speech, one keeps one's word. In governing, one is orderly. In affairs, one does what one can. In action, one grasps the right moment. Because there is no contention, there is no fault and no resentment.

Chapter Nine

To keep filling a vessel to the brim is not as good as stopping in time. To sharpen a blade to an excessive edge is to be unable to keep it long. Gold and jade filling the hall, no one can keep them forever. Pride that follows wealth and nobility only brings calamity upon oneself. When merit is accomplished and fame attained, to withdraw and step back accords with the Way of nature (ziran, naturalness).

Chapter Ten

Can one embrace the One with body and spirit (shen, spirit) without letting them part? Can one concentrate one's essence and vital energy (jing, essence, and qi, vital energy), making it supple, like an infant? Can one cleanse the mind and examine its subtleties without flaw? Can one love the people and govern the state without acting willfully, letting things take their natural course? When the senses and the mind open and close, can one remain soft and humble? When one thoroughly understands all things, can one be free of cunning and prejudice? To give life to things and nourish them, to give life without possessing them, to act without relying on one's merit, and to lead without dominating: this is called Xuan De (profound Virtue), a virtue that is deep and subtle.

Chapter Eleven

Thirty spokes converge on a single hub. It is precisely because the center is empty that the cart can function. Clay is kneaded into vessels. It is precisely because the interior is hollow that the vessel can hold things. Doors and windows are cut to build a house. It is precisely because of the empty space within that the house can be lived in. Thus, what is solid provides convenience, while emptiness is what allows things to truly function.

Chapter Twelve

The five colors dazzle, and people's eyes grow blurred. The five tones are so tangled that people's hearing grows dull. The five flavors, in excess, spoil the palate. Indulging in galloping horses and hunting drives the mind to frenzy. Rare and precious goods lead people to act improperly. Therefore the sage values providing for the needs of life and does not chase sensory pleasures. The sage sets aside external temptations and chooses inner stability.

Those who receive favor or suffer disgrace should be as cautious as if they were startled, and should regard the great calamities of the world as seriously as they regard their own selves. What does it mean to be as cautious as if startled by favor or disgrace? Disgrace means occupying a lowly position. One must be wary when receiving favor and equally wary when losing it, and this is what it means to be as cautious as if startled by either favor or disgrace. What does it mean to regard the great calamities of the world as seriously as one's own self? The reason I have great calamities is that I have a body. If I had no body, what calamity could befall me? Therefore, one who cherishes the world as he cherishes his own self may be entrusted with the world, and one who loves the world as he loves his own self may be given the world.

Chapter 14

Looking at it, one cannot see it, and it is called "yi" (the invisible). Listening for it, one cannot hear it, and it is called "xi" (the inaudible). Reaching for it, one cannot touch it, and it is called "wei" (the intangible). These three qualities cannot be questioned to their ultimate depth, so they blend together into a single whole. Above, it is not bright; below, it is not dark. It stretches on endlessly and cannot be named, and at last it returns to the state of no-thing, without form or substance. This is called the form of the formless and the image of the imageless, and it is also called "huhuang" (a state of vagueness and elusiveness, hard to grasp). Facing it, one cannot see its beginning; following it, one cannot see its end. To hold fast to the Dao (dào, the Way) that has existed since antiquity, and use it to illuminate present affairs, and to know from this the origin of all things, this is what it means to know the Dao.

Chapter 15

In ancient times, those who were skilled in cultivating the Dao were subtle and profound, penetrating and far-reaching, so deep that they could not be fathomed. Precisely because they were so hard to see through, we are compelled to describe them with a few words: cautious like someone crossing a winter stream, vigilant like someone fearing the neighbors on every side, dignified like a guest, relaxed like ice about to melt, simple like unworked wood, broad-hearted like turbid water, and open like a valley.

Who can let muddy water settle and gradually clear it? Who can let a state of stillness begin to move and gradually bring forth vitality? One who preserves this Dao does not seek fullness. It is precisely because they do not seek fullness that they can be renewed after wear.

Chapter 16

Attain the utmost emptiness in the heart, and firmly hold to stillness. The myriad things grow and change together, and through this I observe their return. One who holds to this Dao does not seek fullness; it is precisely because they do not seek fullness that they can be renewed after decline.

Attain the utmost of emptiness and hold firmly to stillness (jingqing). The myriad things flourish together, and I watch them return to their origin. They stir and multiply, and each in the end goes back to its root. Returning to the root is called stillness, and stillness is called restoring one's nature. Restoring one's nature is called the constant Dao (the Way), and knowing the constant Dao is called enlightenment. Not knowing the constant Dao leads to reckless action and brings disaster. Knowing the constant Dao brings tolerance; tolerance brings impartiality; impartiality allows one to govern all under Heaven; governing all under Heaven accords with Heaven; according with Heaven accords with the Dao; and according with the Dao endures long, so that one meets no danger to the end of one's life.

Chapter Seventeen

The best rulers are those whom the people merely know exist. The next best are those whom the people draw near to and praise. Below them are those whom the people fear, and below those are those whom the people despise. When a ruler's trustworthiness is insufficient, the people will not trust him. Because he is sparing with his commands, when his affairs are accomplished and his undertakings completed, the people all say, "We did this ourselves, as things naturally are."

Chapter Eighteen

When the great Dao declined, benevolence and righteousness appeared. When cleverness and calculation arose, great hypocrisy followed. When relations among kin fell into discord, filial piety and parental kindness were especially emphasized. When the state fell into disorder, so-called loyal ministers appeared.

Chapter Nineteen

Abandon deliberately displayed sagacity and discard calculating wisdom, and the people will benefit a hundredfold. Abandon contrived benevolence and discard self-conscious righteousness, and the people will return to filial piety and kindness. Abandon cunning and the pursuit of profit, and thieves and robbers will vanish. These three principles, stated on their own, are not enough, so they must be accompanied by a guide: reveal the plain and simple nature, embrace the uncarved block, and reduce selfish thoughts and desires.

Chapter 20

Let go of deliberate learning and desire, and worries will diminish. How great is the difference between a respectful "wei" and a careless "e"? And how far apart are good and evil? What people fear, one cannot but also hold in awe. The confusion and anxiety of such circumstances seem to have no end.

The crowd is bustling and lively, like guests at a lavish banquet or people climbing a terrace to enjoy the spring scenery. Only I have not yet shown my intentions, like an infant who does not yet know how to smile. I drift without direction, with nowhere to return to. Everyone appears to have more than enough, while I alone seem to lack. My foolish heart is simple and undifferentiated. The people of the world all appear discerning, while I alone am dim. The people of the world are all shrewd and exacting, while I alone am dull. I am as calm as the sea, drifting without a fixed course. Everyone has clear aims and purposes, while I alone am stubborn and unpolished, like a child who has not yet grown up. I am different from others in that I value the Dao (the Way), which nourishes all things, as a mother nurtures her child.

Chapter 21

The form of great De (Virtue) follows only the Dao (the Way). The Dao is elusive and hard to grasp. Yet within its elusiveness there are images, and within its obscurity there are substances. In its profound and dark depths lies an essence of great subtlety, and this essence is real and credible, containing evidence of its existence. From antiquity to the present, the name of the Dao has never disappeared, and through it one can know the origin of all things. How do I know the origin of all things? Through the Dao.

Chapter 22

Yielding leads to preservation, and bending leads to straightening. Hollowness leads to fullness, and wearing out leads to renewal. Taking little leads to gaining, while taking much leads to confusion. Therefore the sage holds fast to the Dao (the Way) as the fundamental principle and takes it as the standard for all under heaven. He does not display himself, and so he is enlightened. He does not regard himself as right, and so his merit is made manifest. He does not boast of his achievements, and so his work endures. He does not exalt himself, and so he lasts long. Because he does not contend with others, no one under heaven can contend with him. The ancients' saying that "yielding leads to preservation" was surely not an empty word. Only in this way is wholeness achieved, and the world returns to him.

Speaking little is in keeping with nature. A violent wind cannot blow through an entire morning, and a heavy rain cannot fall all day. Who makes them so? Heaven and earth do. If the fury of heaven and earth cannot last, how much less can that of humans? Therefore, one who follows the Way (Dao) is guided by the Way, one who accords with Virtue (De) is nourished by Virtue, and one who turns away from Virtue is abandoned by the Way. Where trustworthiness is lacking, others will not trust.

Chapter 24

Standing on tiptoe, one cannot stand for long; striding with big steps, one cannot go far. Displaying oneself, one does not shine with wisdom; insisting on being right, one cannot make oneself distinguished; boasting of one's merits, one has no merit after all; being arrogant and self-important, one cannot endure. Viewed from the standpoint of the Way (Dao), these behaviors are like surplus food and burdensome actions. People tend to loathe them, and so those who possess the Way do not engage in them.

Chapter 25

There is a kind of being, undivided and whole, that existed before heaven and earth took shape. It is still and empty, stands alone and endures forever, does not change, and circulates without cease, and it can serve as the source of all things under heaven. I do not know its original name, so I reluctantly call it "the Way (Dao)," and reluctantly call it "great." Great, it moves on without end; moving on without end, it extends into the distance; extending into the distance, it returns to its origin.

The Way is great, heaven is great, earth is great, and the king is also great. Within heaven and earth there are four "greats," and the king is one of them. Humans model themselves on earth, earth models itself on heaven, heaven models itself on the Way, and the Way models itself on nature (the state of being naturally so).

Chapter 26

Heaviness is the root of lightness, and stillness is the master of restlessness. Therefore, the noble person travels all day without leaving the baggage cart (the vehicle that carries supplies on a journey). Even when faced with magnificent sights, he remains at ease and is not swayed by external things. How could a ruler of a great state governing all under heaven act lightly? Lightness loses the support of the ministers, and restlessness loses the dignity that a ruler ought to have.

Chapter 27

The skilled traveler leaves no trace; the skilled speaker makes no faults; the skilled planner needs no counters or reckoning tools; the skilled closer needs no bolt, yet others cannot open what he has shut; the skilled binder needs no rope, yet others cannot untie what he has bound.

Thus the sage is always skilled at saving people, and so abandons no one; is always skilled at caring for things, and so discards nothing. This is called inheriting illumination. The good person is the teacher of the not-good person, and the not-good person is the material for the good person's reflection. Those who do not honor their teacher or treasure their lessons, however clever they think themselves, are truly confused. This is the profound principle within these matters.

Chapter 28

Knowing the strong yet keeping to the weak, one becomes a valley for all under heaven. Becoming a valley for all under heaven, one's constant De (Virtue/Power) does not depart, and one returns to the simple, soft state of an infant. Knowing the bright yet keeping to the dark, one becomes a model for all under heaven. Constantly holding to the weak, one becomes a valley for all under heaven, and the constant De does not depart, and one returns to the state of an infant. Knowing the bright yet keeping to the dark, one becomes a model for all under heaven; constantly holding fast without deviation, one returns to the boundless origin. Knowing glory yet keeping to humiliation, one becomes a ravine for all under heaven. Becoming a ravine for all under heaven, the constant De is then sufficient, and one returns to the natural state of uncarved wood. When uncarved wood is split into various vessels, the sage uses these vessel-like talents as officials and leaders. Therefore, one who is skilled at governing the world achieves a complete governance without cutting it apart.

Chapter 29

Wishing to take hold of all under heaven and govern it by force, I see that this is hard to accomplish. All under heaven is a sacred vessel (an organic whole that operates naturally and cannot be arbitrarily manipulated), and it must not be forced into action. Forcing action will ruin it, and clinging to it will lose it. Among all things, some go forward and some follow; some breathe gently and some blow hard; some are strong and some are weak; some are supported and some are destroyed. Therefore, the sage eliminates extremes, extravagance, and excess.

Chapter 30

One who assists a ruler with the Dao (the Way) does not rely on military force to assert dominance over all under heaven, because such a course invites retribution. Where an army has been stationed, thorns and brambles grow. Thus, one skilled in warfare seeks only to achieve the necessary end and does not use it to display strength. Even when the aim is achieved, one does not grow arrogant, and one eliminates extremes, extravagance, and excess.

Chapter 30

One who assists a ruler with the Dao (the Way) does not rely on military force to assert dominance over all under heaven, because such a course invites retribution: where an army has been stationed, thorns and brambles grow. Thus, one skilled in warfare seeks only to achieve the necessary end and does not use it to display strength. Having achieved the end, one is not boastful, not self-praising, and not ostentatious, nor does one regard it as a merit that had to be done; even when results are obtained, one does not force matters. When things reach the peak of their vigor, they begin to age, and this is called being contrary to the Dao; what is contrary to the Dao soon perishes.

Weapons

The finest weapons are instruments of ill omen, which people commonly loathe, so one who possesses the Dao (the Way) does not use them. The gentleman ordinarily honors the left, but in matters of war he honors the right. Weapons are objects of ill omen, not implements of the gentleman. They are used only when there is no alternative, and then one should regard them with a calm and detached mind. For this reason, victory in war is not counted as something to celebrate. To regard war as beautiful is to delight in killing people, and one who delights in killing cannot realize his aspirations in the world.

Auspicious ceremonies honor the left, while funeral and mourning rites honor the right. Thus the deputy general stands on the left, and the chief general stands on the right. Weapons are not the instruments of the gentleman; they are used only when there is no alternative, and one should regard them with a calm and detached mind. One does not regard war as something beautiful. To regard war as beautiful is to delight in killing people, and one who delights in killing cannot realize his aspirations in the world. Auspicious ceremonies honor the left, and funeral rites honor the right, so the deputy general stands on the left and the chief general stands on the right. When many people have been killed, one should weep for them with grief, and even after victory, the occasion should be handled with the rites of mourning.

Chapter 32

The Dao (the Way), which is the fundamental law of the universe and all things, has no fixed name. It is as plain as unworked wood, and although it may appear small, no one under heaven can make it subservient. If kings and lords are able to uphold the Dao, the myriad things will naturally come to submit to them.

When the qi of heaven and earth unite, sweet dew descends, and though no one commands it, the dew falls evenly of its own accord. Once the myriad things began to be regulated and governed, names came into being. Since names have already appeared, one must know when to stop, and only by knowing the limit can one avoid danger. The Dao moves through the world the way rivers flow into the sea.

Chapter 33

To understand others is to be clever; to understand oneself is to be truly wise. To defeat others shows that one has strength; to defeat oneself is to be truly strong. One who knows contentment is rich, and one who practices diligently has resolve. One who does not lose the root of oneself endures, and one whose influence remains undying after death may truly be called long-lived.

Chapter 34

The Dao flows broadly, reaching in every direction. The myriad things depend on it to grow, yet it does not refuse them; it accomplishes its work without claiming the merit for itself. It nourishes the myriad things without making itself their master, and so it may be called great. For this reason, the sage never regards himself as great, and therefore is able to achieve true greatness.

Chapter 35

Whoever holds fast to the Dao will have all the myriad things return to it. Returning to the Dao without being harmed, one finds peace, harmony, and serenity. Music and fine food can make passersby stop in their tracks, but when the Dao is spoken of, it seems plain and tasteless. Looked at, it cannot be seen; listened to, it cannot be heard; yet when put to use, it is inexhaustible.

Chapter 36

If you want to shrink something, you must first let it expand; if you want to weaken something, you must first let it grow strong; if you want to abolish something, you must first let it flourish; if you want to take something, you must first give. This is called "subtle insight" (weiming), the clarity that reveals itself from what is minute. Softness can overcome hardness, and weakness can overcome strength. Fish cannot leave deep water, and the sharp instruments of a state should not be readily displayed to others.

Chapter 37

The Dao (the Way) always acts in accordance with what is natural (ziran), yet nothing is left unaccomplished by it. If kings and lords can hold fast to this principle, the myriad things will transform and nourish themselves. If, after the myriad things have changed and developed, they give rise to desire, I will settle them with the nameless uncarved block (pu). The "nameless uncarved block" is the authentic state that has not been shaped by human artifice. If people can be free of greedy craving and keep to stillness, the world will naturally return to peace.

Dao De Jing, stele rubbing from the Longxing Temple in Yi Prefecture, Tang dynasty

Chapter 38

A person of superior De (shangde) does not display their virtue on purpose, and so possesses true De. A person of inferior De (xiade) never forgets that they are virtuous, and so lacks true De. Superior De acts in accordance with what is natural and without any specific aim; inferior De appears to practice non-action (wuwei), yet its actions serve a hidden purpose. Superior benevolence (shangren) acts out of kindness without seeking anything in return; superior righteousness (shangyi) acts with a calculated aim. Superior ritual (shangli) is punctilious about etiquette, and when others do not respond, it rolls up its sleeves and forces them to comply.

Therefore, once the Dao is lost, De is emphasized; once De is lost, benevolence is emphasized; once benevolence is lost, righteousness is emphasized; once righteousness is lost, ritual is emphasized. Ritual signifies that loyalty and sincerity have grown thin, and it is the beginning of chaos. Views that presume to foreknow and to perceive first are merely the empty flowers of the Dao, and they are the starting point of ignorance. For this reason, the great person (dazhangfu) establishes themselves on substance and does not dwell on superficiality; they abide in what is real and do not chase after ornament. They therefore discard the latter and choose the former.

Chapter 39

In antiquity, the myriad things attained their completion because they obtained the One (yi). The One is the fundamental principle that makes the myriad things into a whole and sustains their existence. The following passage addresses the idea that ritual is the expression of thinning loyalty and sincerity and the beginning of chaos, and that views presuming to foreknow are the empty flowers of the Dao and the starting point of ignorance. Therefore, the great person establishes themselves on substance rather than superficiality, abides in what is real rather than chasing ornament, and so discards the latter and chooses the former.

In the past, those things that attained the unifying function of the Dao (dào, the Way) were these: Heaven attained the Dao and became clear, Earth attained the Dao and became stable, spirits attained the Dao and became efficacious, valleys attained the Dao and became full, the myriad things attained the Dao and grew, and lords and kings attained the Dao and became the rightful rulers of the realm. If Heaven were not clear, it would likely crack apart. If Earth were not stable, it would likely quake. If spirits were not efficacious, they would likely lose their function. If valleys were not full, they would likely run dry. If the myriad things did not grow, they would likely perish. If lords and kings did not hold to the right Way, they would likely be overthrown. Thus the noble takes the humble as its root, and the high takes the low as its foundation. Lords and kings call themselves "gu" (orphan), "gua" (widower), and "bu gu" (a humble self-designation), and is this not precisely taking the lowly as the root? Therefore, when many spokes and parts are assembled, they become a single carriage, yet if one looks only at the parts, one cannot find a complete carriage. A person should not seek to glitter like fine jade, nor should they stand isolated and obstinate like worthless stone.

Chapter 40

Returning is the mode of movement of the Dao, and softness is the mode in which the Dao exerts its function. The myriad things under Heaven are born from you (being), and you is born from wu (non-being).

Chapter 41

When men of superior capacity hear the Dao, they diligently put it into practice. When men of middling capacity hear the Dao, they seem to believe it and seem to doubt it. When men of inferior capacity hear the Dao, they burst into laughter. If they did not laugh, it would not be enough to be called the Dao. Therefore the ancient sayings put it this way: the bright Way seems dim, the advancing Way seems to recede, and the level Way seems uneven. Superior virtue seems like a valley, the purest white seems to be stained, and broad virtue seems deficient. Vigorous virtue seems indolent, and genuine simplicity seems to be changed. The greatest square has no corners, the greatest vessel is completed last, the greatest sound is faint to the ear, and the greatest image has no form. The Dao is hidden and nameless. Only the Dao is skilled at giving to and bringing to completion the myriad things.

Chapter 42

The Dao gives birth to one, one gives birth to two, two gives birth to three, and three gives birth to the myriad things. The myriad things turn their backs to yin and embrace yang, and through the blending of yin and yang they reach harmony. Only the Dao is skilled at giving to and bringing to completion the myriad things.

Dao (Dào) generates the One, the One generates the Two, the Two generates the Three, and from the Three arise the myriad things. The myriad things turn their backs to yin and face yang, and the Qi (vital energy) of yin and yang blend into a state of harmony. The names people dislike are nothing more than "orphan," "the lacking one," and "the unworthy one," yet the kings and lords use these very words to refer to themselves. Thus things are sometimes benefited by being diminished and sometimes harmed by being increased. What others have taught me, I also use in teaching: "The violent and domineering seldom die a natural death." I will take this saying as the foundation of my teaching.

Chapter 43

The softest things under heaven can pass through the hardest things under heaven. What has no form or substance can enter where there is no gap. From this we know that wuwei (non-action, acting in accordance with nature without forcing intervention) is beneficial. Teaching without words, and letting things benefit from following their natural course, is something few things under heaven can match.

Chapter 44

Which is closer, fame or life? Which is more precious, life or possessions? Which is more harmful, gaining fame and profit or losing one's life? Craving fame and gain to excess will surely bring a great price; accumulating too many possessions will surely bring heavy losses. Therefore, one who knows contentment is not disgraced, and one who knows when to stop does not fall into danger. Only in this way can one endure for a long time.

Chapter 45

True completeness seems to be lacking, yet its function never wears out. True fullness seems empty, yet its function never runs dry. The most upright seems crooked, the most skillful seems clumsy, and the most eloquent seems tongue-tied. Haste overcomes cold, and stillness overcomes heat. Only purity and non-action can become the standard for all under heaven.

Chapter 46

When the Dao prevails under heaven, war horses are returned to till the fields and fertilize them. When the Dao is absent, war horses give birth to foals on the outskirts of the city. The greatest offense is indulging desire, the greatest calamity is not knowing contentment, and the greatest fault is craving gain. Therefore, one who knows enough and takes contentment as sufficiency will always be content.

Chapter 47

One can know what lies under heaven without going out the door, and recognize the Dao of heaven (the regular course of natural processes) without looking out the window. The farther one travels, the shallower one's understanding may become. Therefore the sage understands without traveling far, recognizes the pattern without seeing it firsthand, and accomplishes things without forcing them.

Chapter 48

Study adds to one's knowledge each day, while cultivating the Dao reduces one's attachments and contrived actions each day. Keep diminishing until reaching the state of wuwei. By following nature and not forcing intervention, nothing fails to be accomplished. In governing the realm, one should generally rely on quiet non-interference. If decrees are burdensome and interference excessive, it is not enough to govern the realm well.

Chapter 49

[The source text ends at this chapter heading. No content for Chapter 49 was provided.]

The sage has no fixed mind of their own and takes the hearts of the common people as their heart. They treat those who are good with goodness, and they also treat those who are not good with goodness, so that people come to be good. They trust those who are trustworthy, and they also trust those who are not, so that people come to be trustworthy.

The sage dwells among the people of the world, holding themselves with caution and awe. In governing the world, they keep their hearts full, simple, and unadorned. The people all fix their eyes and ears upon them, and the sage cherishes them as children.

Chapter 50

People move from birth toward death. Of those who live long, three in ten; of those who die young, three in ten; and of those who could have lived but through improper conduct walk toward a deadly place, also three in ten. Why is this? Because they overly pursue nourishing life and cling too tightly to living.

I have heard that one who is skilled at preserving life, when walking on land, does not meet fierce tigers or rhinoceros-like beasts (xi), and when entering an army's ranks, is not harmed by weapons. The rhinoceros has no place to thrust its horn, the tiger no place to set its claws, and weapons no place to lodge their blades. Why is this? Because such a person does not enter a place of mortal danger.

Chapter 51

The Dao (the Way) gives birth to the myriad things, and De (Virtue/Power) nourishes them. The myriad things take on their forms, and in accordance with their natural circumstances they grow and mature. Therefore, there is none of the myriad things that does not revere the Dao and value De. That the Dao is revered and De is valued is not decreed by anyone; it is simply the natural and constant way of things.

Thus the Dao gives birth to the myriad things and De rears them. It causes them to grow, develop, and mature, and it also sustains and shelters them. It gives birth to them without possessing them, acts without relying on its own ability, and leads them without dominating them. This is called profound and mysterious De.

Chapter 52

The world has a beginning, which may be regarded as the mother of the myriad things under heaven. Having come to know the mother, one can know the children she bears; having come to know the children, one should return to guard the mother. In this way, one will be free from peril for the whole of life.

Block the openings of the senses and shut the gates of desire, and one will not toil in restless striving for the whole of life. Open the senses and busy oneself with affairs, and one will not be able to save oneself for the whole of life.

To perceive the subtle is called clarity; to hold fast to the soft and yielding is called strength. To use one's light yet return it to inner illumination, so as not to bring calamity upon oneself, is called following the constant Dao.

Chapter 53

If I had even a little understanding, I would walk the Great Dao and fear only straying from it. The Great Dao is level and broad, yet people prefer the crooked, narrow paths. Court halls are lavishly decorated while the fields lie waste and the granaries stand empty. People wear fine embroidered clothes, carry sharp swords, indulge in food and drink, and still have wealth to spare. This is called the extravagance of brigands, and it is plainly contrary to the Dao (Dao, the Way).

Chapter 54

What is firmly established cannot be uprooted, and what is firmly embraced cannot slip away, so that one's descendants continue the ancestral sacrifices without end. When the Dao is cultivated in one's own person, De (Virtue) becomes genuine and full. When it is cultivated in the family, De becomes abundant. When it is cultivated in the village, De grows. When it is cultivated in the state, De becomes flourishing. When it is cultivated in the world, De spreads everywhere. Therefore one may observe the self through the self, the family through the family, the village through the village, the state through the state, and the world through the world. How do I know the condition of the world? By this very principle.

Chapter 55

A person of deep De is like a newborn infant. Poisonous insects will not sting him, fierce beasts will not attack him, and birds of prey will not seize him. His bones are soft and his sinews yielding, yet his grip is firm. He does not yet understand the union of male and female, yet his member is erect, which shows that his jing (essence) and qi (vital energy) are abundant. He may cry all day without his voice growing hoarse, which shows that his body and mind are in perfect harmony. To understand harmony is called constancy, and to understand constancy is called enlightenment. To grasp at increasing one's life brings calamity, and to let the mind drive the qi is to force things. When a thing reaches its height of vigor, it begins to age. This is called being contrary to the Dao, and whatever is contrary to the Dao soon perishes.

Chapter 56

One who truly possesses wisdom does not speak much, and one who speaks much does not necessarily understand the Dao. Block the openings of the senses, shut the gates of desire, blunt one's sharpness, resolve one's entanglements, soften one's brilliance, and merge oneself with the dust of the world. This is called xuantong (mysterious union), that is, becoming one with the profound Dao. Such a person cannot be deliberately drawn close or deliberately kept at a distance, cannot be treated as a source of gain, and cannot be harmed. He cannot be elevated, and he cannot be debased. For this reason, he becomes the most honored person under heaven.

Chapter 57

[The source text for Chapter 57 is empty, so there is nothing to translate.]

Chapter 57

Govern the state with uprightness and straightforwardness, deploy troops with cunning and surprise, and win the empire by keeping affairs free of disturbance. How do I know this must be so? The evidence is here. The more prohibitions and taboos there are under heaven, the poorer the common people become. The more weapons people hold, the more chaotic the state becomes. The more people chase after cleverness, the more strange and bizarre things appear. The more elaborate and conspicuous the laws and institutions, the more thieves and robbers there are. Therefore the sage says: "When I do not force things, the people transform and grow of their own accord. When I favor stillness, the people become upright of their own accord. When I do not meddle, the people become prosperous of their own accord. When I have no excessive desires, the people return to simplicity and genuineness of their own accord."

Chapter 58

When governance is lenient and unobtrusive, the people are sincere and generous. When governance is harsh and exacting, the people are worn down and harmed. Misfortune often rests upon good fortune, and good fortune in turn conceals misfortune. Who can know where these transformations end? In the world there is no absolutely fixed standard. The upright Dao (Dao, the Way) may turn into deception, and good deeds may turn into monstrous aberrations. People have been lost in this confusion for a very long time. For this reason, the sage is upright without harming others, incorruptible without being cruel, straightforward without being wild or ostentatious, and bright without dazzling or glaring.

Chapter 59

In governing people and serving heaven, nothing is better than moderation and the careful conservation of one's strength. Moderation is what we call early preparation. Early preparation is the continual accumulation of De (Virtue/Power). When De is deep and abundant, nothing cannot be overcome. When nothing cannot be overcome, one's capacity cannot be measured. A power that cannot be measured is sufficient to govern a state. Grasping the root of governing the state allows the state to endure. This is the principle of deep roots and firm stems, by which life can be prolonged and maintained over the long term.

Chapter 60

Governing a large state is like cooking a small fish: it should not be stirred or turned over too often. When the empire is governed by the Dao, ghosts and spirits do not stir up trouble. This does not mean that ghosts and spirits lack numinous power, but that their power does not harm people. Not only do ghosts and spirits not harm people, the sage does not harm people either. When neither people nor spirits harm one another, each can return to a state of peace and harmony.

Chapter 61

A great state should be humble like the lower reaches of a river, becoming the place where all the streams of the world converge and gather.

The great state should be like the lower reaches of a river, the place where all the streams of the world converge. Like the feminine, it overcomes the masculine through stillness and lowers itself through humility. When a great state humbles itself before a small state, it wins the small state's allegiance; when a small state humbles itself before a great state, it wins the great state's acceptance. Thus some states gain allegiance through humility, and others gain acceptance through humility. The great state wishes no more than to embrace and nurture its people, and the small state wishes no more than to enter the protection of the great state and serve it. Since both can fulfill their wishes, the great state especially ought to be humble.

The Dao (the Way) is the hidden depth in which all things are rooted. It is the treasure of the good person and the refuge of those who are not good. Beautiful words can win respect, and good conduct can earn esteem. For those who are not good, what reason is there to abandon them? Therefore, when the Son of Heaven is installed and the Three Dukes (the high ministers of ancient times who assisted the Son of Heaven) are appointed, even if someone presents a gongbi (a jade disc held in both hands) to lead the way and follows with a four-horse carriage, it is no better than sitting quietly, offering up the Dao, and practicing it. Why did the ancients value the Dao so highly? Because those who seek it obtain something, and those who have erred can use it to correct themselves and strive for improvement. For this reason, the Dao is cherished throughout the world.

Practice Wuwei (non-action), handle affairs without disturbing the people, and savor things with a mind as calm and plain as still water. Great matters begin with small ones, and many matters begin with few. Repay resentment with virtue. Plan for difficulties while they are still easy, and undertake great things while they are still small. The difficult tasks of the world must begin with what is easy, and the great tasks of the world must be carried out from what is small. Therefore the sage never strives to accomplish great things, and yet is able to accomplish them. Those who make promises lightly are seldom trusted, and those who regard things as easy often encounter many difficulties. Therefore the sage always treats difficulties with seriousness, and so in the end meets with no difficulty. The difficult things of the world begin with the easy, and the great things begin with the subtle. The sage never strives to accomplish great things, and so in the end accomplishes them. Hasty promises necessarily lack trustworthiness, and regarding things as easy necessarily brings many difficulties. The sage, precisely because he treats difficulties seriously, in the end encounters none.

Things that are stable are easy to hold; matters not yet manifest are easy to plan for. What is fragile is easily broken; what is minute is easily dispersed. Therefore, act before things have occurred, and govern before disorder has taken shape. A tree that takes two arms to embrace grows from a tiny sprout; a nine-story terrace is built up one basketful of earth at a time; a journey of a thousand li begins with the first step beneath one's feet.

Forcing action often ruins things; grasping tightly often loses them. Therefore the sage follows what is natural and does not act rashly or willfully, and so does not fail; he does not cling stubbornly, and so does not lose. People often fail just as they are about to succeed. If one treats the ending with the same caution as the beginning, one will not spoil the affair.

Therefore the sage pursues what ordinary people do not pursue, and does not prize rare goods; he studies what ordinary people do not study, and corrects the faults that the multitude commonly commits. He does this to assist the myriad things in developing in accordance with their own nature, and dares not interfere with them presumptuously.

Chapter 65

In ancient times, those who excelled at practicing the Dao (the Way) as rulers did not use cleverness to make the common people shrewd, but kept them simple and genuine. The people are hard to govern because their minds are full of cunning. To govern a state through cleverness is to bring calamity upon it; to govern a state without cleverness is to bring it blessing. To understand these two approaches is to know the standard of governance. To keep this standard clearly in mind and always follow it is called Xuan De (profound and subtle Virtue).

Xuan De seems contrary to ordinary expectation, yet only by acting in this way can one ultimately reach da shun (great compliance), the state in which the myriad things harmonize and flow smoothly by their own nature.

Chapter 66

The reason rivers and seas can become the place where the waters of countless valleys gather is that they excel at lying in low positions, and therefore can receive a hundred streams. Thus, when the sage wishes to stand above the people, he must lower himself in his words; when he wishes to lead the people, he must place himself behind them in his conduct. In this way, though the sage occupies a high position, the people do not feel burdened; though he stands at the front, the people do not feel harmed. The people of the world are therefore happy to support him and never tire of him. Precisely because he does not contend with others, no one in the world can contend with him.

Under Heaven, people all say that I am great, yet I do not conduct myself like ordinary people. It is precisely because I am great that I am unlike them. If I were like them, I would have long since become small. I hold three treasures and guard them constantly. The first is compassion, the second is frugality, and the third is not daring to put myself ahead of everyone under Heaven. Because of compassion, one can be courageous. Because of frugality, one can be generous. Because one does not dare to go first, one can become the leader that others esteem. Now, if one abandons compassion and seeks only courage, abandons frugality and seeks only abundance, or abandons humility and seeks only to be first, one is headed for death. Those who fight with compassion will win, and those who defend with it will stand firm. When Heaven wants to save someone, it protects them with compassion.

Chapter 68

In ancient times, those who were skilled in cultivating the Dao (dào) did not show off their strength or love to fight. Those who were skilled in war did not easily give way to anger. Those who were skilled at overcoming enemies did not contend with others. Those who were skilled at employing people placed themselves beneath them. This is called the virtue of non-contention (De, dé). Therefore, one is able to draw on the strength of the multitude, and this accords with the enduring principle of Heaven since antiquity.

Chapter 69

A saying among those who lead armies goes: "I do not dare to strike first, but would rather take the defensive. I do not dare to advance an inch, but would rather retreat a foot." This is called moving while seeming not to move, rolling up one's sleeves while seeming to have no arms, facing the enemy while seeming to have no enemy, and holding weapons while seeming to have none. No calamity is greater than underestimating the enemy, and underestimating the enemy nearly costs me my treasures. Therefore, when two armies face each other, the side that holds compassion and is unwilling to kill will be the one that prevails.

Chapter 70

My words are very easy to understand and very easy to put into practice, yet no one under Heaven can understand them or put them into practice. My speech has a foundation, and my actions have a guiding purpose. Because people lack understanding, they do not know me. Few know me, and those who are able to emulate me are all the more precious. Therefore, the sage wears coarse cloth on the outside while carrying jade within, showing a plain exterior with a precious interior.

Chapter 71

To know that one does not know is superior. To not know and yet think that one knows is a flaw. The sage has no such flaw because he regards this flaw as a flaw, and so he is able to avoid it.

Chapter 72

Chapter 72

When the people no longer fear the oppressive weight of power, the greatest calamity is about to arrive. Do not force the people from the places where they live, and do not let them grow weary of their lives. Only when the people do not come to loathe their lives will they refuse to turn against their rulers. Therefore, the sage knows himself but does not display himself; he cherishes himself but does not raise his own worth. Thus he discards the latter and chooses the former.

Chapter 73

Those who dare to be bold may lose their lives as a result, while those who are restrained and do not act rashly may preserve their lives. Of these two courses, one is sometimes beneficial and sometimes harmful. What Heaven dislikes, who can know the reason for it? The Way of Heaven (Tiandao) does not contend with others, yet it excels at winning. It does not speak, yet it is answered. It is not summoned, yet all things come of their own accord. It seems loose and unhurried, yet it excels at arranging. The Way of Heaven is like a vast net: its meshes are wide, yet nothing slips through.

Chapter 74

If the people do not fear death, how can they be frightened with death? If the people always fear death, and yet someone still dares to break the law and stir up trouble, and I seize and kill him, who would dare to do so again? But the one who presides over killing has his own master. To kill in place of the master of killing is like chopping wood in place of the great carpenter. Those who chop wood in place of the great carpenter rarely fail to injure their own hands.

Chapter 75

The people go hungry because the rulers collect too much in taxes, and so the people go hungry. The people are hard to govern because the rulers issue too many commands and interfere too much, and so the people are hard to govern. People hold their lives cheaply because the rulers cause them to pursue the enjoyments of life to excess. Only one who does not take the pursuit of enjoyment as the purpose of life understands how to value life better than one who single-mindedly prizes the nourishing of life.

Chapter 76

While a person is alive, the body is soft and supple; at death, it becomes stiff and hard. While grass and trees are alive, they are tender and fragile; when they wither, they become dry and hard. Therefore, the hard and the strong belong to the side of death, and the soft, weak, and yielding belong to the side of life. Thus, an army that relies on force often fails to win, and a tree that grows too hard is easily felled. The hard and the strong stand at a disadvantage, while the soft and the weak prevail.

Chapter 77

The Way of Heaven is like drawing a bow: if the string sits too high, it is pressed down; if it sits too low, it is raised up. What is excessive is reduced, and what is insufficient is supplemented. The Way of Heaven adjusts surplus and deficiency, bringing them toward balance.

The Way of Heaven (Tiandao) operates like the drawing of a bow: what is raised is pressed down, what is low is lifted up, what has excess is reduced, and what is lacking is supplied. Heaven takes from those who have too much and gives to those who have too little. Human ways, however, often run the other way, taking from those who lack and offering to those who already have more. Who can give what they have in excess to the world? Only one who has attained the Dao (Way, dào). Therefore the sage acts without claiming credit, accomplishes great deeds without holding them as possessions, and in this way never displays their own worth.

Nothing in the world is softer or weaker than water, yet nothing surpasses it in overcoming what is hard and firm, and nothing can take its place. Thus the weak overcome the strong, and the yielding overcome the rigid. Yet few people in the world understand this, and fewer still put it into practice. The sage therefore says: "One who bears the humiliation of the whole state may be called its lord; one who bears the misfortunes of the whole realm may be called its king." Words that speak the truth often sound like paradox.

To reconcile deep resentment is certain to leave some resentment behind; how could this be called true resolution? Therefore the sage holds the creditor's half of the contract and does not use it to demand repayment from others. Here the contract serves as a metaphor for generous dealing with people: one of De (Virtue, dé) holds the contract without hurrying to collect, while one without De presses for payment like a tax collector. The Way of Heaven shows no partiality, yet it constantly aids the good.

Let the state be small and its people few. Even if there are many implements, do not use them; let the people treasure their lives and not migrate to distant lands. Though there are boats and carriages, there is no need to ride them; though there are weapons, there is no occasion to array them for battle. Let the people return to the time of knotted cords for keeping records. They find their food sweet, their clothing comfortable, their dwellings secure, and their customs joyful. Neighboring states can see one another, and the crowing of roosters and barking of dogs can be heard across the border, yet the people grow old and die without ever visiting one another.

True words are not ornate, and ornate, pleasing words are not to be trusted. The truly good person does not display virtue through argument, and one who loves to argue is not necessarily good. The truly wise person does not boast of broad learning, and one of broad learning is not necessarily wise.

The sage does not hoard wealth or merit. The more the sage helps others, the more abundant they themselves become; the more the sage gives to others, the more plentiful their own store. The Way of Heaven (the natural order of the cosmos) benefits all things and does not harm them. The sage's way of acting is to accomplish through action, yet never to contend with others.