《道德真經四子古道集解》Vol. 4

This scripture primarily critiques those who are self-righteous and pursue superficial practices, pointing out how they deviate from the natural Dao (the Way).

It begins with the phrase "those who boast of themselves do not endure," meaning self-aggrandizing individuals cannot last. As criticized in the Nanhua Jing (i.e., the Zhuangzi): those obsessed with sophistry are like stacking tiles or weaving knots—they play word games, delving into trivial debates such as "hardness and whiteness, sameness and difference" (philosophical propositions favored by the School of Names), which are ultimately empty and useless talk. Figures like Yang Zhu and Mo Di (thinkers of the Warring States period) exemplify this.

It then points out that such teachings are far removed from the true Dao. The Nanhua Jing states that Yang Zhu, Mo Di, Zeng Shen, Shi Qiu, Shi Kuang (an ancient musician), Li Zhu (a legendary figure with extraordinary eyesight), and Gong Chui (a master craftsman) were all fixated on trivial skills and cleverness, pursuing sensory pleasures and eloquent rhetoric—none of which represent the fundamental principles of the world.

The metaphor of "leftover food and useless growths" is employed: like scraps of a meal or tumors on the body, they are superfluous and worthless. The Nanhua Jing explains that ancient adepts who attained the Dao preserved their natural essence without artificially adding or subtracting anything. Just as a wild duck’s legs are naturally short, forcibly lengthening them would cause pain; or a crane’s legs are naturally long, cutting them short would bring sorrow. True wisdom lies in aligning with nature, not flaunting cleverness—only then will the world remain free from chaos.

Finally, it emphasizes that true Dao adepts do not associate with such people. The Nanhua Jing records Laozi (Lao Dan) saying: "I am ashamed that I have failed to propagate the great Dao, so I absolutely reject the heresies of Yang Zhu and Mo Di." Zhuangzi also declares that he would never presume to call himself a paragon of benevolence and righteousness, much less imitate the extreme behaviors of Yang and Mo.

Chapter 25, "There was something undifferentiated," describes cosmic creation: the Dao initially had no form or appearance, transforming into primordial Qi (vital energy). This Qi underwent nine transformations to form a state of chaos (the primal condition before the separation of heaven and earth). Within this chaos, Yin-Yang divided—the light and pure Qi ascended to become heaven, while the heavy and turbid Qi descended to form earth. This is the process by which the Dao gives birth to heaven and earth.

There exists a primordial unity that was present before the formation of heaven and earth (as stated in the Tongxuan Jing's "Origins of the Dao" chapter: "There was something formless yet complete, born before heaven and earth"). It came into being prior to the cosmos (the Nanhua Jing explains that the Dao has no concrete form, yet gives birth to heaven and earth, existing before them).

Silent and soundless, vast and formless (the Tongxuan Jing describes the Dao: "The great Dao has no shape, profound and obscure, tranquil and indifferent, its voice cannot be heard"). It stands alone, enduring without change (the Tongxuan Jing states that Yin and Yang energies originate from the Dao, which exists independently yet generates all things, remaining constant from ancient times to the present). It cycles endlessly without cease (the Tongxuan Jing observes that celestial movements, earthly stability, and seasonal transitions all manifest the Dao, where hardness and softness interact to nurture all beings).

It may be called the source of all things under heaven (the Nanhua Jing declares the Dao's omnipresence, while the Tongxuan Jing analogizes heaven as father and earth as mother, together parenting all existence). I do not know its name (the Tongxuan Jing mentions we reluctantly assign it names), so we term it "Dao" (the Dongling Jing clarifies: "The Dao is nature's divine functioning, encompassing heaven and earth, nurturing all creatures, endowing beings with distinct forms and lifespans, achieving supreme efficacy without claiming merit").

Reluctantly, we may also name it "Great" (the Tongxuan Jing's "Sincerity and Purity" chapter states: "The Dao originally has no name; sages reluctantly call it 'Great'"). "Great" signifies its ceaseless movement (the Nanhua Jing explains the Dao's eternal existence before heaven and earth), this perpetual motion leads to expansion, and expansion ultimately returns (the Chongxu Jing observes: "The Dao has operated from remote antiquity to the present, its duration immeasurable, like the endless existence of heaven and earth").

Therefore we say the Dao is supremely great (the Tongxuan Jing states: "The great Dao manifests through Yin and Yang energies, residing beyond heaven, supremely lofty yet profoundly deep, containing heaven and earth without distinction between inner and outer"). Heaven is great (the Tongxuan Jing declares heaven the grandest among formed things). Earth is great (the Tongxuan Jing proclaims earth the most expansive among material things). And the sovereign is also great (as the Nanhua Jing states...).

In the cosmos there exist four supreme entities (referring to Dao, Heaven, Earth, and the Sovereign), with the emperor being one of them. The emperor emulates the virtue (De) of Earth (which nurtures all things without seeking reward), while Earth follows the operational principles of Heaven (which transforms and nourishes all things without claiming merit). Heaven, in turn, adheres to the laws of the Dao (the Way) (which, though formless, governs all things), and the Dao ultimately takes natural non-action (Wuwei) as its highest principle (for nature is the essential state of the Dao).

This passage particularly emphasizes that "steadiness" is the foundation of governance (the Tongxuan Jing states that ancient sages ruled the world through steadfastness, not frivolity), and "tranquility" is the key to mastering restlessness (the virtue of serene non-action can bring stability to the world). True rulers (the noble person, or junzi) conduct their daily affairs (the Nanhua Jing says the noble person takes ritual as their standard and music as a means to harmonize their nature) with the steady composure of a carriage bearing precious cargo (a metaphor illustrating that rulers should advance with the measured gravity of a heavily laden vehicle).

The text later criticizes rulers of degenerate ages (the Tongxuan Jing points out that emperors and feudal lords in such times become arrogant and self-important, pursuing luxury and pleasure, never satisfied despite possessing all the wealth and power under Heaven). Their recklessness, restlessness, and insatiable desires ultimately cause them to lose the foundation of governance and bring ruin to the world. This stands in stark contrast to the ancient sages—who used steadiness to restrain frivolity and tranquility to master agitation—thus bringing peace to the world.

This passage from the Collected Explanations of the Four Masters' Ancient Dao in the True Scripture of Dao and De conveys two main layers of meaning:

The first section discusses the art of governance. Quoting the Tongxuan Jing (Scripture of Pervading Mystery), it states that noble persons should maintain inner tranquility to cultivate themselves. Even amidst worldly splendor, they must remain transcendent. It particularly emphasizes that a ruler commanding ten thousand chariots (symbolizing a great nation) who disregards the common people will lose their support. The foundation of governance lies in self-cultivation—there has never been a case where a well-cultivated ruler presided over a chaotic state, nor a disordered ruler who governed effectively. Should a ruler act impulsively and indulge desires, they would forfeit the fundamental principles of rulership.

The second section, titled "Chapter on Good Conduct," elucidates the subtle function of Wuwei (non-action). Citing the Nanhua Jing (i.e., Zhuangzi), it explains that a sovereign's virtue should emulate heaven and earth's natural Wuwei. Ancient sages could educate the realm without leaving their halls and achieve orderly governance without deliberate action, their conduct leaving no traces. The finest speech bears no fault for criticism—these sages moved the world without words, their essence lying in wholeheartedly practicing the Dao of non-action.

The concept of Wuwei mentioned here represents a core Daoist principle, referring to compliance with natural laws without forceful interference, influencing others and society through personal cultivation and exemplary conduct. The text stresses that truly good deeds and words arise spontaneously—precisely by not forcing them does one achieve superior results.

This passage primarily discusses the governance principles and worldly wisdom of ancient sages.

Those truly skilled in calculation need no counting rods (ancient computational tools), for the sages follow natural laws and accomplish things without deliberate scheming. Those adept at closing doors need no bolts to keep them shut, just as the sage-kings of old could inspire people to voluntarily observe norms through their virtuous example. Those skilled in binding need no ropes to make knots unbreakable, for the ancient sages practiced the Great Dao (Dadao), transforming customs without relying on legal constraints.

Therefore, sages are always skilled at rescuing others, leaving no one useless (by guiding people according to their innate nature, none are abandoned). They are also adept at utilizing all things, leaving nothing wasted (by grasping the essence of things, all can fulfill their purpose). This embodies the luminous wisdom inherited from the Dao (Dao).

The virtuous can serve as teachers for the unvirtuous (rulers being models for the people), while the unvirtuous can serve as mirrors for the virtuous (sages skillfully utilize others' characteristics to achieve merit). Neither overemphasize the teacher (education requires constancy) nor over-rely on mirrors (emulating the patterns of Heaven and Earth). Though appearing to understand many principles, true wisdom lies in recognizing how much remains unknown.

Note: The mentioned "Scripture of Penetrating Mystery" (Tongxuan Jing), "Scripture of Cavernous Numen" (Dongling Jing), and "Scripture of Southern Florescence" (Nanhua Jing) are all important Daoist classics, referring respectively to the Wenzi, Liezi, and Zhuangzi.

The Scripture of Penetrating the Mysterious states that the ancients, by not indulging in trivial knowledge, never lost the Dao (the Way), and by not pursuing petty cleverness, never became foolish. Yet in later ages, though people acquired some fragmentary knowledge, they became utterly lost in the fundamental Dao. This reveals the most profound and subtle truth.

The essence of governing the world lies in grasping the core principle of "One," and whether the world remains peaceful depends solely on the ruler.

The Zhuangzi (Classic of Southern Florescence) asks why the ancient Dao became obscured and gave rise to distinctions between truth and falsehood. It was because in the era of the Five Emperors (legendary sage rulers), the Dao became obscured by trivial accomplishments, and artificial contrivances replaced the genuine Dao. In the golden age when the Dao flourished, humans lived in harmony with birds and beasts, coexisting equally with all things—what need was there for distinctions like benevolence, righteousness, rites, and music, or between noble and petty men? People preserved their natural integrity without departing from fundamental virtue; they remained free of desires, and the people were naturally simple. This simplicity fostered a society of genuine harmony.

But by the time of the Five Emperors, they deliberately promoted benevolence and righteousness, forcing things like walking on tiptoe or growing extra fingers—unnatural efforts that led people to doubt book learning and become obsessed with the false Dao of trivial achievements. They governed the world with extravagant music and elaborate, hypocritical rituals, causing social division as people fixated on external forms like musical tones, calendars, and sensual pleasures. Thus, in the era of the Five Emperors, the once-unified Dao fragmented, and people began crafting ritual vessels and musical instruments to chase superficiality.

The Zhuangzi says the Five Emperors understood how to display the Dao of the masculine, creating the five musical tones. The Scripture of Penetrating the Mysterious: Virtue Below states that the sound of thunder could be imitated with bells and drums, and the changes of wind and rain could be represented through musical tones. Any audible sound could be harmonized, so they tuned the five notes. But the ancient sage-kings held to the Dao of the feminine, humbly accommodating all like the valleys of the world. As the valleys of the world, their eternal De (Virtue) never faded, ultimately returning to the purity of an infant.

The Scripture of Penetrating the Mysterious says the ancient rulers who excelled in governance emulated rivers and seas, becoming the valleys of the world through Wuwei (non-action), their De never departing. Thus, those who attained the Dao revealed no desires, their minds communing with the divine. In stillness, they cultivated De; in action, they followed natural principles.

The Zhuangzi says the Five Emperors understood how to display the Dao of brightness, creating the five color distinctions. Anything visible could be obscured, and any observable color could be categorized, so they divided the five hues. But the ancient sage-kings held to the Dao of darkness, serving as the model for the world. The Zhuangzi states that in antiquity, the five colors never became chaotic—what need was there for ornate patterns? By upholding this model, their eternal De never erred, ultimately returning to the state of Wuji (the Limitless).

This passage synthesizes concepts from the Daode Jing, Tongxuan Jing, and Nanhua Jing, expounding on the governing principles of ancient sages and the evolution of Dao (the Way) and De (Virtue). Black (symbolizing emptiness and stillness) represents the fundamental law of heaven and earth. By adhering to this eternal principle, one avoids error and ultimately returns to the boundless state of "Wuji" (the Limitless) that transcends beginnings and endings. The ancient Dao-realized rulers governed through Wuwei (non-action), aligning with natural patterns, allowing harmony to arise spontaneously.

They understood where honor resided (like the Five Emperors establishing calendars), yet willingly remained humble as the valleys of the world. Just as rivers and seas occupy low positions yet receive all tributaries, such De achieves perfect fulfillment, returning to primordial simplicity. In antiquity, people preserved their natural authenticity—unadorned jade embodied true beauty, needing no artificial rituals or forced benevolence.

Later, during the Five Emperors' era, the creation of calendars, social hierarchies, and systems of benevolence and rites fractured this original purity. People employed cunning to deceive, rulers manipulated subjects with power tactics—the more wisdom increased, the more Dao and De declined. Artisans err by destroying natural simplicity to craft tools; the Five Emperors faltered by disrupting innate virtue to impose artificial morality.

Ancient sages like Xiwei Shi, Fuxi Shi, Shennong Shi, and the Yellow Emperor embodied the Great Dao, thus governing effortlessly through Wuwei. Truly perfected systems ("Great Governance") never sever natural authenticity. Though Yao and Shun recognized the benefits of virtuous rule, they failed to see how such human intervention inherently damages heavenly Dao. Only by transcending artificial standards of worthiness can one grasp this truth.

(Note: "Wuji" denotes the ultimate state of Dao; "Xiwei Shi" refers to a legendary pre-dynastic ruler; "Qi-mother" indicates the primordial energy source of creation; "auspicious clouds" symbolize celestial blessings.)

This passage expounds on the principles of governing the world. Ancient rulers viewed the realm as their private property and treated all things as livestock to be possessed—such an attitude inevitably breeds arrogance. Large states bully smaller ones with military might, while smaller states haughtily oppress their people—such rule cannot endure. True lasting peace lies in harmonizing with the celestial timing rather than contention, in following the great Dao rather than relying on personal abilities.

Water flows downward without contending for speed, thus it moves naturally. The sage (one who has attained the Dao) does not fail by forcing action, nor loses by clinging to personal views. Those skilled in military strategy often fail to comprehend the higher wisdom of "temple warfare" (referring to winning without battle). Those fond of war invariably meet defeat; expert swimmers are more prone to drowning, skilled riders more likely to fall—people often bring misfortune upon themselves through their very strengths. The downfall of the Seven Warring States epitomizes this truth.

Those who seek to forcibly seize the realm (here "the realm" signifies the sacred imperial throne) will find military conquest futile. Renown cannot be grasped through force—it requires the voluntary allegiance of all under heaven. Only those with De (Virtue) will gain the people's sincere submission; without it, the populace will not support them, making rule by force perilous.

This sacred vessel of the realm (symbolizing supreme sovereignty) cannot be forcibly possessed or manipulated. Those who act forcefully will surely fail; those who cling stubbornly will surely lose. Fortune and misfortune intertwine, benefit and harm arise together—this principle must be understood. Just as fame-seekers often meet disgrace, expert swimmers risk drowning, and skilled riders risk falling—people frequently suffer due to their own fixations.

This passage expounds on principles for personal conduct and state governance. Through contrasting pairs, it enumerates a series of opposing phenomena: some lead while others follow, there is warmth and cold, strength and weakness, success and failure—all representing the natural existence of complementary opposites.

Quoting the Tongxuan Jing (Scripture of Pervading Mystery), it reveals that true wisdom lies in seizing opportune moments rather than contention, and that governing a state requires following the Dao (the Way) rather than relying on personal talent. Just as earth remains stable by humbly occupying low places, and water flows smoothly by following downward contours, the sage (one who has attained the Dao) avoids failure by refraining from arbitrary action and prevents loss by relinquishing attachments.

Three crucial principles for conduct are then presented: first, abstain from extremes, as maintaining softness paradoxically yields strength; second, reject extravagance, as frugality ensures longevity; third, shun arrogance, as humility brings endurance. These form the foundation for governing states and bringing peace to the land.

The concluding section particularly emphasizes the peril of militarism. Weapons are deemed inauspicious instruments, warfare a dangerous affair, and warmongering inevitably leads to ruin. Ancient worthies governed through virtuous policies (De) and widespread benevolence, never through martial posturing. The truly wise never rashly resort to arms, instead pursuing universal harmony—thereby rendering the violent powerless to act.

The Tongxuan Jing (Scripture of Pervading Mystery) states that during the Warring States period, the constant warfare between states corrupted social morals. Crafty individuals seized opportunities to flatter rulers and scheme in the shadows, creating turbulent conditions where arrogant monarchs employed such disruptive figures to achieve their aims.

Where armies once encamped, fields lay barren and overgrown with thorns. The Tongxuan Jing observes that during the Seven Warring States' frequent conflicts, one could no longer see leisurely strollers on roads nor thriving crops in fields—only desolate landscapes choked with brambles.

After large-scale warfare, years of famine inevitably followed. The "Subtle Illumination" chapter of Tongxuan Jing notes that mobilizing an army of 100,000 incurred massive daily expenditures, and the aftermath invariably brought calamities like starvation.

Thus, those skilled in warfare know to stop when their objective is achieved. The Tongxuan Jing maintains that relying solely on military might cannot sustain dominance indefinitely. Truly wise leaders never abuse force merely to demonstrate strength.

The scripture teaches that ancient warriors of genuine courage understood the principle of "being brave enough not to act"—this paradoxical approach actually enabled effective governance. After achieving goals, one must avoid arrogance. Those in antiquity who maintained the Dao's softness endured precisely because they refrained from forceful displays.

Victories should not be flaunted. The Tongxuan Jing clarifies that any single talent—including military prowess—cannot comprehensively address governance. Success must not breed tyranny, for true ancient warriors never abused violence. This aligns with the Great Dao's principles.

Warfare remains a last resort. As the Tongxuan Jing states, one only takes up arms when unavoidably compelled by invasion. Even in victory, one must reject belligerence—maintaining softness constitutes the way of survival, allowing the world's vital energies to flourish unimpeded.

When things reach their zenith, decline follows. The Chongxu Jing (Scripture of Simplicity and Vacuity) records Confucius telling Zilu: "You possess courage but lack yielding." The Tongxuan Jing observes that those who insist on displaying valor often perish by it, just as eloquent speakers frequently meet their end through excessive cleverness.

This constitutes deviation from the Dao. The Tongxuan Jing explains that untimely deaths befall those who attack many with few, or bully the strong while weak—ultimately destroyed by the masses. Military might unaligned with the Dao leads to premature demise. The Nanhua Jing (Zhuangzi) similarly emphasizes that without inner tranquility and joy, one violates the standards of Dao and De (Virtue). What contradicts the Dao inevitably perishes early.

This passage illustrates the dangers of weapons and warfare through the story of King Wen of Zhao's obsession with swordsmanship, supplemented by quotations from multiple Daoist scriptures. The narrative recounts how King Wen became infatuated with swordplay, allowing swordsmen in his court to duel day and night, resulting in countless casualties. The crown prince invited Zhuangzi to admonish the king. Using the metaphor of "three swords," Zhuangzi explained: the Son of Heaven's sword rectifies feudal lords, the feudal lord's sword brings stability to their domains, while the commoner's sword only causes meaningless bloodshed. Upon hearing this, King Wen awakened to the truth and remained in his palace for three months without venturing out, causing the swordsmen to disperse on their own.

The text cites the Tongxuan Jing (Scripture of Pervading Mystery) and Dongling Jing (Scripture of Cavernous Numinous) to emphasize that weapons are inauspicious objects and warfare is a perilous affair. The use of arms harms the people and disrupts the world—an extreme act contrary to the Dao (the Way), which all things despise. Those who truly embody the Dao do not resort to force lightly. A nobleman values the left (symbolizing Yang virtue) in daily life but honors the right (symbolizing Yin punishment) in military affairs. Weapons are not instruments befitting a nobleman; they should only be employed as a last resort and approached with a mindset of calm detachment.

The core idea of this passage is opposition to the reckless use of force, asserting that war and weapons bring only calamity. True noblemen should prioritize moral transformation, maintaining restraint even when compelled to resort to arms.

This passage conveys two main ideas: first, the Daoist attitude toward warfare, and second, the essential nature of the Dao (the Way).

Regarding warfare, the truly Dao-imbued individual views victory in battle as nothing to boast about. War inevitably brings casualties, and to glorify military triumph is tantamount to taking pleasure in killing. Those who delight in waging war can never truly attain mastery over the world. Ancient classics recount how the warlords of the Spring and Autumn period, who fought for selfish gains, were ultimately abandoned by the people—their temporary might inevitably ending in ruin.

In ritual protocol, auspicious occasions honor the left (representing Yang and life), while inauspicious events honor the right (symbolizing Yin and death). Thus in military formations, the lieutenant general stands on the left while the commanding general takes the right position, applying funeral rites to the conduct of war. When many lives are lost in battle, one must mourn with genuine sorrow; even in victory, the ceremonies of mourning should be observed.

The second part elucidates the nature of Dao, which is eternal and nameless ("Dao is perpetually without name"). In high antiquity, those who truly embodied Dao and De (Virtue) received protection from celestial and terrestrial spirits, manifesting various auspicious signs: the appearance of the propitious Jingxing star, auspicious clouds gathering, the descent of yellow dragons, sweet dew falling, sweet springs bubbling forth, abundant harvests, miraculous fungi growing, trees with interlocking branches, phoenixes congregating, and qilin roaming peacefully. Simultaneously, nature maintained perfect harmony: oceans remained calm without waves, rivers never overflowed, celestial bodies moved in orderly courses, winds and rains came seasonally. These ten auspicious omens manifested when ancient practitioners of Dao achieved resonance with the divine.

(Note: The referenced "Tongxuan Jing" refers to the Wenzi, while "Nanhua Jing" denotes the Zhuangzi—both foundational Daoist classics. "Jingxing" was considered an auspicious star in antiquity; "sweet springs" refers to miraculously sweet water sources; "interlocking branches" describes trees with naturally fused trunks, regarded as propitious signs.)

This passage elucidates the way of being practiced by ancient sages. "The heart must be restrained" (心欲小) refers to curbing subtle desires; "the aspiration must be expansive" (志欲大) so that one may properly govern the world. The principles one grasps may appear small, yet they can bear great responsibilities. When governing according to the Dao (道), though the methods may be simple, they are sufficient to order the world.

In ancient times (the era of supreme Dao and perfect De [德] mentioned in the Zhuangzi), all things operated naturally, and the people maintained their innate simplicity while self-governing. If rulers followed the principle of governing through non-action (无为), all beings would naturally submit. When Heaven and Earth harmonized their yin and yang (阴阳), sweet rain would fall of its own accord, and without issuing verbal commands, the people would spontaneously achieve harmony (不言之令).

As society developed, various names and systems began to emerge (始制有名). The Scripture of Penetrating Mystery points out that later generations, pursuing minor achievements, became fond of establishing names and issuing commands. While such methods could accomplish specific tasks, they remained merely tools of governance. The ancient sages took as their model the wordless Dao of nature—this was the fundamental way.