《道德真經玄德纂疏》Vol. 7

Collected Annotations on the Mysterious Virtue of the True Classic of the Dao and De, Volume Seven: “Chapter Seven: Bringing into Use”

Imperial commentary and subcommentary by Emperor Xuanzong of the Tang; annotations by Heshang Gong, Yan Junping, and Li Rong; subcommentary by Master Cheng Xuanying of Xihua; compiled by Qiang Siqi of Mengyang.

Chapter 25: “There Is a Thing, Formed in Confusion” (also known as “The Chapter on There Being a Thing”)

The previous chapter discussed boastfulness and urged people to turn away from worldly appetites. This chapter makes clear the underlying reality of the Dao, so that people may begin their cultivation. To prescribe a teaching as a remedy, one must first diagnose the illness and then apply the medicine. Since remedy and illness correspond, this chapter follows next. Its meaning unfolds in five parts: first, it reveals the Dao’s essential character, wondrous and beyond form and sound; second, it explains that the Dao originally had no name, but was given a name when it manifested; third, it directs beings toward their proper course, returning them to the root and the origin; fourth, it identifies the four great things within the realm, guiding beings in their cultivation; fifth, it shows how to advance gradually from the shallow to the profound, step by step toward complete fulfillment.

First part: Revealing the Dao’s essential character, wondrous and beyond form and sound

There is something formed as an undivided whole, before it has taken shape, born before Heaven and Earth.

Imperial commentary: To explain why the Dao must be given a name, the text says, “There is a thing”: one thing formed as a whole, containing and nurturing all things. Tracing its generation and transformation, it is found to precede Heaven and Earth.

Imperial subcommentary: “There is a thing” means a wondrous thing, the wondrous source at the utmost limit of emptiness. To explain the origin of the phrase “I shall provisionally give it a name,” one cannot simply call it the Dao. Thus the text says there is this wondrous thing, formed as a whole, containing and nurturing the myriad forms. Tracing its generation and transformation, it is found to precede Heaven and Earth; hence the words, “born before Heaven and Earth.”

Heshang Gong says: What is called the Dao has no form. It is formed in chaos and gives rise to the myriad things.

General Meaning of the Scripture

Before Heaven and Earth

Rong says: What is called “something” refers to the Dao. The scripture speaks of “something” because the Dao is not “being” in the ordinary sense, yet it cannot be discussed as an ordinary “thing.” Undivided and indistinct, it can nevertheless give rise to all things. This also means that although it is undivided, it is indistinct; although indistinct, it takes form; and although formed, it remains indistinct. This Dao, formed from undifferentiated chaos, is before Heaven and Earth, yet one cannot say that it is “before” Heaven and Earth. To be prior without being prior, and to give birth without giving birth—that is what this means. Zhuangzi says that Shen, ghosts, and the Sovereign gave birth to Heaven and Earth. He also says that the Dao was before Heaven and Earth, yet did not claim to be old.

Silent and vast, it stands alone and does not change; it moves everywhere without danger and can be the mother of all under Heaven

The Imperial Commentary says: The substance of “something” is silent, vast, empty, and still; its wondrous source is clear and forever tranquil. Therefore, it stands alone and does not change. Its responsive transformations extend throughout all existence, so it moves everywhere without danger. All things depend on it for their generation and receive the nurturing virtue through which they flourish; therefore, it can be the mother of all under Heaven.

The Imperial Exegesis says: “Silent and vast” praises the substance of “something”: it is silent, vast, empty, and still; its wondrous source is clear, so it stands alone and does not shift or change. When things respond to it, it necessarily answers. Its transformations arise without intention and extend throughout all existence, so it moves everywhere without danger and can be the mother of all under Heaven. Its wondrous source gives rise to transformations throughout all existence, and there is nothing it does not bring to completion. All things receive the nurturing virtue through which they flourish; therefore, it can be the mother of all under Heaven. “Mother” here carries the meaning of nurturing and flourishing.

Heshanggong says: “Silent and vast”—silent means without sound, vast means without form. “Stands alone” means that it has no equal or companion; “does not change” means that its transformations follow a constant pattern.

Rong says: The Dao, formed from undifferentiated chaos, came into being before Heaven and Earth. Listen for it and nothing is heard: it is silent and without a sound. Grasp for it and it cannot be found: it is faint and without form. It has no mate and nothing stands opposite it, so it is said to stand alone. It remains clear and constantly present, so it is said not to change.

Translator’s Notes

Imperial Commentary and Imperial Exegesis: The commentary on the Dao De Jing and its explanatory exegesis written by a Tang emperor, here referring mostly to Emperor Xuanzong.

Heshanggong: Traditionally said to have been a recluse in the early Han dynasty. The Commentary on the Chapters of Laozi by Heshanggong, attributed to him, emphasizes immortality practices and health cultivation.

Rong says; Cheng’s Exegesis: The author of this work, Du Guangting (styled Dongyingzi), cites earlier commentators or offers his own exegesis. Rong and Cheng may be the names of commentators.

“Formed from undifferentiated chaos,” “wondrous source,” and “mother of all under Heaven”: These are phrases from chapter 25 of the Dao De Jing. They describe the Dao as formed from chaos, the subtle and wondrous source, and the mother of all things.

The changeless, omnipresent, ever-circulating Dao, whose use never wears out or brings danger

“Changeless” means that the substance of the Dao remains constant and does not alter. “Omnipresent” and “ever-circulating” mean that the Dao is everywhere and flows through all places. In its use, it is never exhausted or endangered.

The meaning of covering and supporting, generating and nurturing, and being the mother

Covering the sky and supporting the earth, bringing forth the myriad beings through transformation, and nurturing all things: these express the Dao’s motherlike power to conceive and sustain life.

Cheng Xuanying’s commentary

Quiet, vast, self-sufficient, and changeless

“Quiet” means without sound; “vast” means without form; “self-sufficient” means that it depends on no opposite and awaits nothing else; “changeless” means that it does not shift or alter. The substance of the Dao is remote, obscure, and still, beyond both form and sound. It depends on nothing and never changes. This is what “self-sufficient” means here: not a self that depends on something else.

The Dao is everywhere; this is called “ever-circulating.” It reaches freely wherever it goes, and so is never in danger. It unfolds Yin-Yang, establishes Heaven and Earth, brings the myriad beings to maturity, and gives life and nourishment to all that is sentient. Because it generates and sustains all things, it may be called “the mother.”

Second: Revealing the nameless source and, in its manifestation, establishing a name

The Scripture

I do not know its name. I style it “Dao”; forced to name it, I call it “Great.”

Imperial commentary

Seeing that the myriad things come into being, yet that the source itself is hidden and nameless, we use “generating through its flow” to express its De, and style it “Dao.” Seeing that it encompasses all things, we give its substance a designation and, forced to name it, call it “Great.”

Imperial subcommentary

“Style” expresses De; “name” designates substance. The Venerable Lord said: The wondrous source gives rise to transformation, and its subtle workings are inexhaustible. It is quiet, vast, empty, and still, so its form cannot be fixed. It came before Heaven and Earth, and its lineage is difficult to describe. Thus, “I do not know its name.” Yet, seeing that all things flow freely from it, I wish to express its De of generating through its flow, and so style it “Dao.” Seeing that it encompasses everything, with nothing outside it, I wish to designate the substance of the ultimate nonbeing, and so, forced to name it, call it “Great.”

Ordinarily, things are named first and then given a style-name, because they grow from small to great. The Dao, by contrast, is styled first and named afterward, because this proceeds from the source down to its manifestation—from the underlying substance to something that can be named.

Heshanggong’s commentary

“I do not know its name. I style it ‘Dao.’” Unable to see the Dao’s appearance, I do not know what name to give it. But seeing that all things are born from the Dao, I style it “Dao.” “Forced to name it, I call it ‘Great.’” Though I do not know it, I reluctantly give it a name and call it “Great.” Great means high, with nothing above it, and vast, with nothing beyond it. It encompasses everything; hence it is called “Great.”

A certain commentator (Rong says)

What has form can be named; what has no image is beyond naming. Taking its free generation as its function, we style it “Dao.” Since there is no principle it does not encompass, we name it “Great.” In truth, it has no name; though nameless, it is given a name by necessity.

Cheng Xuanying’s commentary

“I do not know its name. I style it ‘Dao.’” The Dao is originally nameless and cannot be grasped by the intellect. The name “Dao” is itself given to it by necessity.

This passage elucidates the ontological nature and operational principles of the Dao (the Way) as presented in the Daode Jing. Laozi employs two characters to describe the cosmic origin: "Dao" represents its essential nature (the inner reality), while "Da" (Great) manifests its external expression (the outward name). This sequence of presenting the essence before its designation deliberately illustrates how the Dao operates contrary to conventional understanding.

Regarding the cyclical movement described as "The Great flows outward (Shi), flowing outward extends far (Yuan), extending far returns (Fan)": When the Dao manifests as boundless greatness (Da), it initiates dynamic movement (Shi); this flowing motion expands infinitely (Yuan), yet ultimately returns to its source (Fan). Just as heaven and earth have their limitations, the Dao's subtle function permeates all existence. Though we reluctantly call it "Great," it never remains fixed in this state of greatness.

Heshang Gong's commentary clarifies: This "Greatness" differs from the sky's permanent position above or the earth's fixed position below—it flows without settling. "Flowing outward" signifies its omnipresence throughout heaven and earth, while "extending far" doesn't imply actual remoteness, as it ultimately returns to the practitioner's own being. Cheng Xuanying further explains: This power guides beings toward sagehood (Shi), transcends the three realms to reach the Sanqing (Three Pure Ones) celestial realms (Yuan), and finally returns to complete spiritual cultivation (Fan).

Through multiple commentators' interpretations, the text reveals the Dao's dual nature—both cosmically vast and minutely subtle. While circulating ceaselessly, it always returns to its origin. Ultimately, practitioners must personally realize this cyclical truth within their own body-mind cultivation.

They can return to the Three Realms and, with compassion, save and aid all living beings. Another explanation says: when deluded, the Three Pure Ones are taken to be the Three Realms; when awakened, the Three Realms are themselves the Three Pure Ones. Thus, to return while still amid the dust and bustle of the world is already to be above the Great Luo Heaven.

Fourth, the text names the four great powers within the realm, so that beings may follow them in their practice.

Thus, the Dao is great, Heaven is great, Earth is great, and the sovereign is also great.

The Imperial Commentary says: Their greatness is made clear by showing what each one excels at. Those who attain the One are Heaven, Earth, and the sovereign. Heaven is great in its ability to cover; Earth is great in its ability to bear; the sovereign is great in taking Earth as a model. Then Heaven follows the Dao’s course, and so the text says the sovereign is great as well.

The Imperial Commentary’s Subcommentary says: Because the Dao is forcibly named “great,” the text next names those that are great after it. Heaven can hang high above and spread its covering over all things; Earth can settle below and bear all things with its ample weight; the sovereign can be clear, still, and Wuwei (non-action), thereby transforming all things. These are the three great powers. My Dao runs through them all as one thread.

Heshang Gong says: The Dao is great because nothing lies beyond its capacity to contain; it encompasses all the Heavens and Earths. Heaven is great because nothing lies beyond its covering. Earth is great because nothing lies beyond its bearing. The sovereign is great because nothing lies beyond his governance.

Rong says: The Dao is revered and De (Virtue/Power) is precious, extending everywhere with nothing beyond it. Heaven can cover widely, making no distinction between noble and lowly. Earth can bear all things with abundance, making no choice between beauty and ugliness. The emperor and sovereign govern and reach everywhere, near and far; they nurture all beings impartially, rich and poor alike. Each has its own governing role; the text names them in turn as great.

Cheng’s Subcommentary says: The Dao is great because nothing lies beyond its embrace. Heaven is great because nothing lies beyond its covering. Earth is great because nothing lies beyond its bearing. The sovereign is great because nothing lies beyond his governance.

Within the realm are four great powers, and the sovereign is one of them.

The Imperial Commentary says: The sovereign is the lord of humankind, and the rise and fall of all things depend on him. The text therefore says, “and the sovereign is one of them,” in order to extend its admonition and warning. It seeks to alert the sovereign and make him take something as a model; the following passage explains this.

The Imperial Commentary’s Subcommentary says: “Realm” means a bounded domain. If the text speaks of greatness within the realm, then the Dao is not confined to that realm. If it speaks only from the standpoint of what can be seen, Heaven and Earth themselves form a bounded domain, yet the Dao still cannot be confined within it. The text uses indirect language to express profound principle; there is no need to force upon it an unusual interpretation. Preserving the wording guards against doubts and difficulties, though none of the various explanations fully resolves the matter.

Here, “realm” means “name”: a name marks out the domain of a thing. Nothing has a form apart from its name, so the text says “within the realm.” If it names the Dao, then the Dao is included; if it names Heaven, then nothing in Heaven is left out. Thus, “within the realm” means that these four great powers are found within the sphere of what has a name. The text says, “and the sovereign is one of them.”

A Plain-Language Interpretation

On “the King is one of the four greats”

Among the “Four Greats,” the King is one, foremost in spiritual virtue among human beings. When a ruler is aligned with the Dao, all things receive the benefit of his De; when he is not, Heaven and Earth too suffer harm. The scripture therefore singles out “the King is one of the four greats” to urge rulers to take Dao and De as their model and Heaven and Earth as their standard, following the natural workings of the Dao.

• Heshang Gong says: Within the farthest reaches of the eight directions are the Four Greats, and the King is one of them.
• Yan Zun says: The meaning of merit and De is the same.
• Rong, a commentator, says: There is no need to speak of what lies beyond the universe. In the world of forms and appearances, there must be a name for things. Though the ten thousand kinds of things may be listed, in essence there are only the “Four Greats.” The name “great” is shared by all four, but their functions cannot be sharply separated. The point is to urge rulers to uphold Dao and De as their model and take Heaven and Earth as their guide.
• Cheng’s subcommentary says: These four exist within the realm. The King has the De to nurture and transform the ten thousand things, so after the two powers of Heaven and Earth, he occupies the position of “one.” Zhuangzi says, “The Dao has never had boundaries,” whereas this passage speaks of “within the realm.” This means that one need not mark out boundaries for something still to be within the realm: though it is called “within the realm,” it encompasses everything without limit and is not confined by borders.

Fifth: Progressing from the shallow to the profound, gradually reaching the utmost perfection

Scripture: Humanity models itself on Earth; Earth models itself on Heaven; Heaven models itself on the Dao; the Dao models itself on what is so of itself.

Imperial commentary: “Humanity” here refers to the King, the ruler. A ruler should first model himself on Earth—calm and steady. Then he should model himself on Heaven—turning and bringing forth life. Once the work of generation is established, he should model himself on the Dao—still and inactive, allowing the ten thousand things to transform of themselves. If a ruler can do this, he accords with “the Dao models itself on what is so of itself.”

Imperial subcommentary: “Humanity” refers to the King. The text says “humanity” rather than simply “King” to express this: only when people can model themselves on Heaven and Earth in bringing forth life, and on the Dao in stillness, will the world turn toward them and they merit the title of King. If a King fails to do so, the ten thousand things will have nowhere to turn; hence the warning is phrased in terms of “humanity.” A ruler should model himself on Earth’s stillness; from stillness, he should then model himself on Heaven’s generation and transformation, whose work benefits the ten thousand things; then he should model himself on the Dao’s stillness and Wuwei (non-action), forgetting his own achievements in relation to things and allowing them to transform of themselves. If a ruler can do this, he accords with “the Dao models itself on what is so of itself.”

One point needs to be made clear: the Dao models itself on what is so of itself; it does not imitate some thing called “Nature.” To suppose, as the confused do, that the Dao must imitate “Nature” itself would make the realm contain “Five Greats” rather than “Four Greats.”

The Scripture of the Ascent to the West is also quoted as saying, “Emptiness and nothingness give birth to Nature; Nature gives birth to the Dao.” This treats the Dao as the grandchild of “Emptiness and nothingness” and the child of “Nature,” wrongly establishing an order of precedence and rank. Its meaning differs from “the Dao models itself on what is so of itself” in this passage, and the two should be considered separately.

How deep is the harm caused by blocking the source and reversing root and branch? Let us consider the matter.

Emptiness and nonbeing are the substance of the wondrous root. Since this substance has no form, it is called emptiness and nonbeing. Spontaneity is the nature of the wondrous root. Since this nature is not fashioned by human effort, it is called spontaneity. The Dao is the wondrous root’s function. The phrase “given a name by force” refers simply to its permeating the processes of generation and transformation; hence it is called the Dao. In brief, when substance and function are considered together, the name refers to the Dao of emptiness, nonbeing, and spontaneity.

If we inquire into how things are as they are, all are originally one wondrous root. What, then, is there to imitate or take as a model? From this we can see how difficult it is for the deluded to awaken to the key to the mystery.

Heshang Gong’s Commentary on “Humanity models itself on Earth; Earth models itself on Heaven; Heaven models itself on the Dao; the Dao models itself on spontaneity”

Humanity models itself on Earth: People should take Earth as their model. Earth is still and gentle. It can grow the five grains and yield sweet springs; it labors without resentment and achieves results without claiming credit.

Earth models itself on Heaven: Earth takes Heaven as its model. Heaven is calm and unmoving; it bestows blessings without seeking repayment, and brings forth and nurtures the myriad things without taking anything in return.

Heaven models itself on the Dao: Heaven takes the Dao as its model. The Dao is clear and still, and speaks little. It sets Yin-Yang in motion and transforms vital energies, allowing the myriad things to come to completion of themselves.

The Dao models itself on spontaneity: The Dao’s original nature is simply so; it takes nothing outside itself as a model.

Rong’s Commentary

For a ruler, to be still and share the virtue of Yin, bearing things without selfishness, is to model oneself on Earth. To act in harmony with Yang, covering and nurturing all with fairness, is to model oneself on Heaven. To be clear and empty, practice Wuwei, move without obstruction, and act always in accord with reason, is to model oneself on the Dao. For a sage, to be free of desire does not mean merely exerting effort in particular affairs. Rather, the sage empties the self, puts an end to contrivance, and lets things transform of themselves. This is to model oneself on spontaneity.

Here it is the sage who models himself on the Way of Heaven and Earth; Heaven and Earth do not model themselves on each other.

Cheng’s Subcommentary

“Ruler” means the king. A king must model himself on Earth by being still. Stillness comes before action, and composure can give rise to benevolence; hence a later chapter says, “If you are agitated, you lose your position as ruler.” Once still like Earth, he must next model himself on Heaven: clear and empty, sheltering and nurturing all, without selfishness. Heaven has the three lights, which stand as a metaphor for the benevolent illumination a person should offer. Earth is the gateway of composure; Heaven is the gateway of benevolence. Once he can be like Heaven, he must next model himself on the Dao: empty, open, and embracing all things. Once he can be like the Dao, he must next model himself on the wondrous principle of spontaneity, the realm called “the profound within the profound.”

The Dao is the trace; spontaneity is the root. The root encompasses the trace, and this is why the text says “models itself on.” Another interpretation is that the Dao’s nature is spontaneous and models itself on nothing. Its substance is beyond cultivation and learning; hence the text says “models itself on spontaneity.”

Chapter Title

Chapter Twenty-Six: “The Heavy Is the Root of the Light.” The chapter called “The Heavy Is the Root” follows directly after the preceding chapter because that chapter has already discussed this principle.

General Meaning of the Chapter

This chapter continues the previous chapter’s teaching, “Take the earth as your model,” and gives priority to stillness. Its main points can be understood in three ways: first, it contrasts the harms of lightness and agitation with the advantages of weight and stillness; second, it explains that those who hold to weight and stillness act without departing from quietude; and third, it shows how the light and agitated bring about the ruin of their state and the loss of their lives.

Distinguishing the Harm of Lightness and Agitation from the Strength of Weight and Stillness

The great De of Heaven and Earth is called life: the giving of life. The great treasure of the sage is called position: the ruler’s seat. Using stillness to govern movement is like the thirty spokes turning around the hub of a wheel. Weight is the root of lightness; the ninth line in the fifth place is the beginning of the ruler’s position. When one climbs Mount Tai, grandeur gathers in the height of its many peaks. The one who wears the jade screen ornament before the throne is the ruler, who holds the guiding principles of the common people. From this we can understand that when the six lines are arranged, the top line governs the images below; when the Eight Trigrams first divide, the lower five trigrams steady and govern the positions of the others. The mysterious mirror is subtle and profound, and rests solely in stillness and clarity. The yellow-roofed imperial carriage is dignified and composed, distinguished by height and grandeur. The sage explains this principle fully and makes it clear.

“Weight Is the Root of Lightness; Stillness Is the Ruler of Agitation”

Imperial Commentary: Weight governs lightness, so weight is the root of lightness. Stillness holds agitation in check, so stillness is the ruler of agitation.

Imperial Commentary, Expanded Explanation: “Root” means foundation. The roots and stems of plants are heavy, while their flowers and leaves are light. Flowers and leaves receive life from the roots and stems, so the roots and stems are their foundation. That is why it says, “Weight is the root of lightness.” Weight brings stillness, and lightness brings agitation. Since weight is the root of what is light, stillness is the ruler of what is agitated. We can therefore see that weight has the power to restrain lightness, and stillness has the power to hold and suppress agitation. Thus, when the balance weighs heavily, even a small tuft of cotton above the nose is lifted; when the heart is still, craving for a feast fades of its own accord.

The Old Master of the Riverbank said: “Weight is the root of lightness”: If a ruler is not weighty, he will not be respected; if one cultivates the body without weight, one loses the spirit. The flowers and leaves of plants are light, so they fall; their roots are heavy, so they endure. “Stillness is the ruler of agitation”: If a ruler is not still, he loses authority; if one cultivates the body without stillness, the body is endangered. The dragon is still, and so can transform; the tiger is agitated, and so meets an early end.

Rong said: If both large and small are light, neither can serve as the foundation. If both above and below are agitated, how could either serve as ruler? Thus, among what is light and what is heavy, the light takes the heavy as its root; among what is agitated and what is still, the agitated takes the still as its guide. Wuwei and weighty stillness are therefore the ruler’s De; purposeful action and light agitation are the minister’s work.

The lower ranks each attend to their own duties; a ruler must value stillness

Cheng’s Commentary: Heaviness is the root of lightness, just as a tree’s roots are heavy and its flowers and leaves are light. The light will wither and fall, while the heavy can endure. This warns students of the Way not to be frivolous and restless. Thus the classics say, “If a gentleman is not dignified, he will command no respect”; stillness can restrain agitation. When a ruler remains still, he practices Wuwei (non-action); when agitated, he has desires. Desire entangles one in birth and death, while Wuwei allows one to endure. Stillness can restrain movement, so a ruler must remain grounded and still.

Second: Explaining that those who remain grounded and still do not depart from stillness even when in motion

Thus the gentleman travels all day without leaving his baggage cart

Imperial Commentary: The zi is a cart, and its “load” is what it carries. For a restless person, treasuring stillness is like a traveler taking care of the baggage cart. Lose the cart and one will suffer from cold and hunger; indulge in frivolous restlessness and one will invite disorder and calamity.

Imperial Subcommentary: “Gentleman” refers to the ruler, whose virtue enables him to preside over all things. The zi is a covered cart, and the “load” is what it carries; this is a metaphor. A ruler who constantly remains grounded and still is like a traveler who does not leave his baggage cart all day. Without the cart, the traveler has nothing to rely on and must suffer cold and hunger. If the ruler indulges in frivolous restlessness, his ministers will scatter and calamity will follow. Hence the saying: “travels all day without leaving his baggage cart.”

Heshang Gong: The zi means stillness. The sage follows the Dao throughout the day without departing from stillness and weightiness.

Rong says: A ruler who has the Dao and governs the world makes grounded stillness his priority and does not act lightly or rashly. His conduct never departs from the Dao, and his actions never leave stillness. Thus, when traveling he takes his baggage cart, and where he resides he maintains strict precautions and defenses. He avoids danger and ruin because he values weightiness and stillness.

Cheng’s Commentary: This continues the meaning of the preceding passage. The zi means stillness. The gentleman, the realized person, goes about his work of transformation throughout the day and lives among ordinary people without departing from weightiness and stillness. This is what it means to “move while remaining tranquil.”

Though there are splendid sights, dwell at ease and remain detached

Imperial Commentary: A ruler remains grounded and still. So even if he has magnificent palaces and viewing towers, he should dwell in them at ease, detached and unmoved.

Imperial Subcommentary: When the ruler values weightiness and stillness, the people are not burdened by toil. If he builds high terraces and deep pools, and uses bells and dancing women to create splendid sights, the people’s labor will be exhausted, and disorder and ruin will follow. Therefore the text offers this warning: even if there are splendid sights, one should dwell at ease, remain detached, and avoid becoming attached to them.

Commentary on the Relevant Passage in the Collected Subcommentaries on the Mysterious Virtue of the True Scripture of the Dao and Its Virtue

Heshang Gong says: “Splendid sights” refers to palaces and sleeping quarters where the consorts live. The sage should rise above such things and keep his distance, without lingering there.

Rong, the commentator, says: What the sage values is the Dao, and what he cherishes is “stillness and gravity.” Even if he has halls as splendid as jade terraces and jeweled chambers, his body still rests in emptiness and quietude. Even if beautiful women like Yanji and Feiyan attend him, his mind still roams in Wuwei (non-action). Sensual desire cannot burden his true nature, and magnificent dwellings cannot beguile him. Because he is not burdened by external things, he is called “detached.”

The Cheng Commentary, by Cheng Xuanying, restates: One who maintains stillness and gravity may have splendid palaces and sleeping quarters, yet lets the mind roam in emptiness and calm, detached from the world and taking no pleasure in them. He lives amid defiling circumstances without being defiled.

Third: This section explains that frivolity and agitation can lead to the ruin of a state and the loss of one’s life.

Scriptural text: “How could the ruler of ten thousand chariots treat his own person lightly in governing the world?”

The Imperial Commentary says: “How could” expresses lament. “The world” refers to the supremely weighty position. The meaning is: Why would a ruler indulge private desires and treat himself lightly, until he loses his exalted position?

The Imperial Subcommentary says: The Son of Heaven’s domain comprised one million jing of land, from which taxes were levied. Sixty-four thousand jing supplied a million warhorses and ten thousand chariots, hence the title “ruler of ten thousand chariots.” “How could” expresses lament; “the world” means the position of supreme treasure. A ruler of ten thousand chariots should secure a thousand generations of descendants and a hundred generations of the main and collateral branches of his house. If he establishes things well, he transforms the realm through Wuwei; if he holds firmly to the Dao, all under Heaven will return to benevolence. Why, having inherited this weighty vessel, would he indulge in pleasure and give himself over to desire, only to end in ruin? To lightly abandon the position of supreme treasure for the desires of one person is deeply lamentable. Hence the words, “How could.”

Heshang Gong says: “How could the ruler of ten thousand chariots…” expresses grief at the rulers of that time. “Ruler of ten thousand chariots” means a king. “Treat his own person lightly in governing the world” asks how one who holds the highest rank could act with frivolity and agitation. It laments the extravagance, self-indulgence, and licentiousness of the time.

Rong says: “The son of a family worth a thousand gold pieces does not sit near the edge of a hall; how much less should a ruler of ten thousand chariots act recklessly?”

The Cheng Commentary says: “How could?” and “Why?” A royal domain a thousand li across, with ten thousand war chariots, should be governed with gravity and stillness. Instead, the ruler indulges in lust and excess, imposes heavy taxes and labor, and gives himself over to hunting and sexual pleasures, treating the world lightly. The lament is profound; hence the words, “How could.”

“Frivolity leads to losing one’s ministers; agitation leads to losing one’s sovereignty”: Frivolous conduct loses the support of ministers, while an agitated temperament loses the virtue of rulership—or even the throne.

Plain-Language Interpretation

Imperial Commentary: When a ruler is frivolous and acts on a whim, the people will scatter. Hence it says, “He loses his ministers.” When a minister is impatient and pushes for advancement, the ruler will not wish to accept him. Hence it says, “He loses his ruler.”

Imperial Subcommentary: A ruler who is often frivolous will inevitably cause turmoil. When there is turmoil, people scatter—who would still be willing to serve as a minister? Thus it says, “Frivolity leads to losing one’s ministers.” This is a warning to rulers. A minister should assess his abilities before accepting a rank. He must not be eager for office or slander others. If he puts on a false show, schemes for rewards and status, or uses deceit to seek honor, his impatience will soon bring disaster and ruin. He may be exiled or executed. How could he then serve his ruler? Thus it says, “Impatience leads to losing one’s ruler.” This is a warning to ministers.

Heshang Gong’s Commentary: “‘Frivolity leads to losing one’s ministers’: If a king is frivolous and indulgent, he loses his ministers. In cultivating oneself, frivolity and indulgence lead to losing one’s Jing (essence). ‘Impatience leads to losing one’s ruler’: If a king acts hastily, he loses his position as ruler. In cultivating oneself, haste leads to losing one’s Jing and Shen (spirit).”

Yan Zun’s Commentary: The original wording of “losing one’s ministers” is “losing one’s roots.” It means that when a ruler favors frivolity and restless action, he is like a tree whose roots are shaken: once the roots move, its branches and leaves wither. When a ruler is not still, the people are thrown into turmoil and the ancestral temples are endangered; he then loses his position as ruler of the state.

Rong Yidao’s Commentary: The previous chapter explained that stillness and stability free one from all entanglement. This chapter explains that frivolity and restless action inevitably bring harm. When there is no entanglement, those above and below are all at peace; when harm arises, rulers and ministers alike are lost.

Cheng Xuanying’s Subcommentary: Indulging one’s desires and growing ever more frivolous and restless brings ruin to the state outwardly and endangers one’s person inwardly. When loyal and worthy ministers are driven into hiding, the ruler has lost his ministers; when the ancestral temples collapse, he has lost his position as ruler.

Chapter Twenty-Seven: Skillful Conduct Leaves No Trace (the “Skillful Conduct” Chapter)

(The previous chapter spoke directly of the importance of stillness and stability: the sage acts without departing from serenity. This chapter therefore goes on to explain in detail the sage’s capacities and effects. It is divided into four parts: first, it explains how a person grounded in stillness and stability keeps the three forms of action pure; second, how such a person holds firm to vows and frees the six senses; third, how the sage appears in the world to offer compassionate aid, responding to all things without omission; and fourth, it sets out the way between teacher and student and the subtlety of cultivation and learning.)

First Part: How a Person Grounded in Stillness and Stability Keeps the Three Forms of Action Pure

(The sage responds with perfect understanding; the true mind is clear and still. He travels without setting out, journeying far amid Kunlun and the Jade Pass. He knows without leaving, walking upon the heights of the Jade Capital. In stillness, he is able to act; dwelling…)

(The text that follows is omitted.)

This passage elucidates the Daoist cultivation states of "skillful action" and "skillful speech."

Regarding "skillful action," it describes how truly accomplished practitioners leave no traces of deliberate effort. Like ancient sages governing the world who achieved perfect order through what appeared as effortless non-action (Wuwei), this state requires complete fusion of one's inner being with the Dao. The practitioner neither clings to emptiness nor to form, transcending all dualities. Just as the legendary seven-fragrance chariot and cloud-steed move without leaving tracks, the sage's actions arise spontaneously without traces—unlike King Zhou's royal processions that left ruts, or Confucius's travels that left footprints.

Concerning "skillful speech," this refers to mastering language without becoming trapped by it. Those truly skilled in speech don't cling to surface words but penetrate through language to grasp the essential meaning, ultimately reaching the state of "grasping the meaning while forgetting the words." Like healing an illness by addressing its root cause, the skillful speaker points directly to the essence without leaving verbal handles—their words become flawless and beyond reproach. This attainment requires practitioners to avoid lingering on linguistic appearances, instead verifying truth through direct realization.

Both states embody the core Daoist principle of "non-action yet nothing left undone." Whether in action or speech, the highest attainment manifests as seemingly effortless perfection—neither clinging to forms nor leaving traces. This demands practitioners reach the mysterious state where mind and Dao unite, with both circumstance and awareness dissolving into oneness.

Collected Commentaries on the Mysterious De of the True Scripture of the Dao and Its Virtue: A Plain-Language Reading

Skillful speech

(Meaning of the scripture) Words spoken in the world leave no flaws and invite no reproach.

Rong says: When words strike the heart of the matter, they can elicit a response from a thousand miles away. If one does not speak words that accord with the Dao, what fault could there be?

Cheng’s subcommentary: “Skillful speech” is speech that needs no elaboration: one speaks as though one had not spoken; one speaks all day as though one had never opened one’s mouth, yet also as though one had never kept it shut. That is why it is called skillful speech. Zhuangzi says: when words hit their mark, one can speak all day and still express the Dao completely. A flaw is a fault; a transgression is something that draws censure. Silence and speech are no different, so there is no fault of the mouth for which one can be blamed. The word “target” in this passage means that the sage’s words have no fixed aim or destination. This explains the purity of oral karma—karma created through speech.

Skillful calculation needs no counting rods

Imperial Commentary: One who realizes that all things are originally without two paths, and that the One runs through everything, no longer forms other views. There is then no need to labor over calculations: understanding shines forth naturally. To calculate without clinging to the appearance of “calculation”—what could be more skillful?

Imperial Subcommentary: This explains that when teaching does not become stuck in words, there is no need to sort things into categories and calculate them. If one clings to words and rigidly holds to outward conduct, distinguishing right from wrong, even the most intricate calendar cannot calculate everything. But if one realizes that all things are expedient paths, ultimately pure and free of other views, there is no need to exhaust the mind with plans and repeated calculations; one can naturally enter deeply into the One Vehicle, the sole path to liberation. If skillful calculation reaches this point, why use counting rods at all? Hence it says: skillful calculation needs no counting rods.

The Lord of the River says: Those skilled at using the Dao to plan things hold to the One without wavering. They have little to calculate and can know without using counting rods.

Rong says: Counting rods use numbers to calculate things. When one observes things through the Dao, nothing is beyond calculation, yet the Dao itself does not lie within numbers. What need is there for counting rods?

Cheng’s subcommentary: With wondrous insight, one sees that all things are alike in being illusory. One does not establish another illusion; illusion itself is the true essence. There is no need to strain the mind with calculations: understanding opens up all at once. This explains the purity of mental karma—karma created through thoughts.

Second section: Resolute vows and liberation of the six faculties

Skillful closure needs no bolt, yet cannot be opened

Imperial Commentary: When speech and conduct are both forgotten, one does not enter other paths. The mind no longer chases objects and conditions and becomes confused, and objects and conditions no longer stir the mind. Though there is no bolt, who could open it?

Imperial Subcommentary: This explains that when one no longer calculates along different paths, desire naturally closes itself off. The horizontal bar is called a guan; the vertical bar, a jian (door bolt). Those skilled in conduct and speech neither become absorbed nor remain attached. The mind shines with purity and worldly objects do not arise. Hence it says “skillful closure.” Although there is no bolt, it cannot be opened; hence it says, “Skillful closure needs no bolt, yet cannot be opened.”

The Lord of the River says: (The excerpt does not continue with a commentary on this line. In commonly circulated editions, the explanation generally continues with the meaning of “skillful closure”: one who is skilled at closing needs no lock, yet outsiders cannot open it.)

Plain-language interpretation

General meaning of the passage:

Those skilled at using the Dao (the Way) to restrain desires and preserve Jing (essence) and Qi (vital energy) are like a door fitted with a bolt: outsiders cannot push it open at will.

(Rong’s commentary: A door with a bolt can be closed and opened. If one can use the Dao to govern it, there is neither opening nor closing. A ruler uses the Dao to guard against usurpation and murder, leaving outsiders no way to peer inside. A practitioner uses the Dao to meet sights and sounds, and so cannot be enticed.)

(Cheng’s subcommentary: There is no desirable scene outside and no covetous mind within. The six sense faculties may function freely without becoming attached. Then the door is closed without being closed, and, though closed, is not closed. There is no need to trouble with a bolt. That is why the text says “cannot be opened”: it explains the liberation of the six sense faculties.)

“Skilled at tying knots without using rope, yet they cannot be undone.”

Imperial commentary: Realize that the true nature is originally found in emptiness and forgetfulness. When one is empty and free of thought, the mind joins with the Dao. Though bound by no rope, how could it be undone and scattered?

Imperial subcommentary: This explains the “knotting” of the mind joining with the Dao in “skilled at closing.” Rope is a restraint; undoing means dispersal. Sitting in forgetfulness, letting go of awareness, and deeply attuning to the source of the Dao, one is unimpeded by any teaching. The mind is bound to this, and so it is called “skilled at knotting.” A rope’s restraint is undone when the rope comes apart; when one is knotted by the Dao, the mind grows still and merges with the Dao. Even if all conditions arise, one ultimately remains wholly unstained. Though bound by no rope, how could one be undone and scattered? Thus the text says that a skilled knot cannot be undone, though it uses no rope for restraint.

Heshang Gong: Those skilled at ordering things by the Dao knot their own minds; unlike rope, their knot cannot be undone.

Rong’s commentary: A rope can bind and be untied. To govern the four quarters by the Dao is to knot well; when the myriad states all honor one person, the bond cannot be undone. In self-cultivation, the mind accords with the Dao, embraces the One, and never departs from it. It cannot be undone.

Cheng’s subcommentary: A superior person who has realized the Dao puts others before himself, makes a great vow to transform and deliver living beings, and keeps that vow with unwavering resolve and fidelity. Since this is not a restraint imposed by worldly rope, it cannot be undone. Vows of resolve take many forms, but in sum there are five: first, the resolve to begin; second, the resolve to subdue the mind; third, knowledge of the true mind; fourth, the resolve to depart; and fifth, the unsurpassed resolve.

• The resolve to begin: Awaken to the spontaneous intention of the Dao and enter the Dharma gate.
• The resolve to subdue the mind: Subdue the various hindrances and delusions. In the text on subduing the mind, there are the terms “wen,” “shi,” and “three explanations”; the explanations have three grades. (This is the classification given here; the source text reads this way.)

(Here, “惣” is probably a scribal error for “总.” The text describing the three grades of explanation is incomplete, so the translation follows the surviving wording.)

Note: The passage cited is likely a commentary on the Dao De Jing line, “Skilled at closing need no bolt, yet their doors cannot be opened; skilled at tying need no rope, yet their knots cannot be undone.” The commentary focuses on replacing “door bolts and ropes” with the Dao: desires, sights and sounds, usurpation, and murder all arise from the mind. When the mind accords with the Dao, outsiders cannot peer in and the inner bond cannot be undone. The discussion then leads into the five stages of resolve for a superior practitioner, from the resolve to begin through the unsurpassed resolve. To restore the incomplete section on the three grades of “subduing the mind,” one would need to compare another edition of the Xuande cuanshu.

This scripture primarily discusses the five mental states that Daoist practitioners should cultivate, as well as the compassionate heart of sages who universally deliver all beings.

Practitioners must develop five mental states: First is the initial aspiration toward the Dao (Fa Xin); second is the nine-grade mentality (Jiu Pin Xinxing) corresponding to rebirth in the Nine Palaces celestial realms; third is the mind that knows truth (Zhi Zhen Zhi Xin), representing realization of the true Dao; fourth is the transcendent mind (Chu Li Xin) with three grades of attainment, corresponding to rebirth in the Three Pure Heavens (Sanqing Tianjie, abode of Daoism's highest triad of deities); fifth is the supreme mind (Wu Shang Xin) that directly realizes the Great Dao, enabling ascension to the Great Canopy Heaven (Daluo Tian, Daoism's highest celestial realm). These five mental states must remain steadfast without faltering.

The scripture then expounds on the sages' compassionate salvation: Sages excel at rescuing people, therefore they never abandon anyone; they also excel at cherishing all things, therefore they never discard any being. Here "things" encompasses all existence, both sentient and non-sentient. Sages deliver beings through five skillful teaching methods (Wu Shan), treating all with equal great compassion—whether instructing humans or cherishing creatures, they maintain complete impartiality.

Commentators further explain: When sages teach loyalty, filial piety and integrity, they aim to save beings' lives; when guiding people to follow seasonal rhythms, they protect all things from harm. Sages never value jade while despising stone, but treasure all existence equally. True sages transmit scriptures and teach Dharma according to circumstances, using the Great Dao to benefit the world, never neglecting a single being.

Vernacular Interpretation

One who is always skilled at saving people therefore abandons no one.—The sage is the kind of person described earlier: someone who has purified the six senses and attained liberation. Because the sage can make a vast vow to save living beings, the sage remains in the world, responds whenever there is a need, and shows compassion equally to all. In the end, no one is cast aside.

One who is always skilled at saving things abandons nothing.—“Saving people” is mentioned first to show that the sage’s kindness extends to sentient beings; “saving things” comes next to show that compassion also reaches insentient things. In other words, saving people directly concerns the common folk, while saving things extends to every kind of living being.

This is called “inheriting the light”

Imperial Annotation: To act in secret is called “inheriting.” The five kinds of good conduct consist in forgetting and letting go. When one forgets and lets go, no trace remains; this is why it is called “acting in secret.” Such hidden action leads to awakening, and so it is called “light.”

Imperial Commentary: “Inheriting” means carrying on and joining in secret; “light” means clarity and awakening. The good act of saving people lies in letting go of attachment. If one clings to the teachings or takes pride in one’s own standing, traces will inevitably remain. Thus, even while constantly saving people, one must keep the mind of wisdom free from obstruction. Acting in this hidden way leads to awakening; hence the words, “This is called ‘inheriting the light.’”

Heshanggong: The sage is skilled at saving people and things; this is called inheriting the light of the Dao of Heaven.

Rong: The five kinds of good conduct benefit both people and things. They carry on and put the Dao into practice; this is called inheriting the light.

Cheng’s Commentary: “Inheriting” means carrying on; “putting into practice” means applying. These words conclude the passage with praise: the sage constantly benefits things and abandons nothing. This may be called carrying on and applying the way of sage-like illumination.

Fourth: Showing the way of teacher and student, and the subtlety of learning and practice

Thus, the good person is the teacher of the person who is not good; the person who is not good is a resource for the good person.

Imperial Annotation: The good person can serve as a model; the person who is not good can be put to use.

Imperial Commentary: “Teacher” means one who serves as a model. “Resource” means something to draw upon or rely on.

• The good person: When free from attachment and craving, the mind is pure; when unimpeded by the teachings, instruction is fully accommodating. This is illustrated by water: when things come, it reflects them. What is reflected has shape and form, but that which reflects perceives these forms without a mind of its own. The good person’s right wisdom is like this, and so the good person can serve as a model for those who are not good.
• The person who is not good: Such a person can be put to use. Fire gives off heat, and those who are cold draw near to it. To hear the Dao and practice it diligently, one must rely on a master. Once the goodness of the teacher has been described, the labor of the student must also be acknowledged: the good person can put those who are not good to use, assigning them work and guiding them to reform.

Note: This passage belongs to the commentary on Chapter 27 of the Dao De Jing: “Skilled action leaves no tracks … Thus, the good person is the teacher of the person who is not good; the person who is not good is a resource for the good person.” It also follows the phrase “This is called inheriting the light.” Interpretations of “inheriting the light” vary somewhat, but most understand it to mean carrying on or joining with “light” without leaving traces. “The four kinds of life” refers to the four classes of living beings—sometimes listed as womb-born, egg-born, moisture-born, and transformation-born—and here broadly means all sentient beings.

This passage explores the dynamic between virtuous (shanren) and non-virtuous (bu shanren) individuals, ultimately pointing to the Daoist practitioner's need to transcend such distinctions.

Laozi observes that virtuous people may serve as teachers (guides) for the non-virtuous, while the non-virtuous in turn become the "resources" (zi) for the virtuous. The term "resources" carries dual meaning: first referring to material support like traditional teacher's gifts (shuxiu), and more profoundly indicating how non-virtuous individuals become "fields of merit" for the virtuous—through guiding others, the virtuous practitioner actually cultivates their own De (Virtue/Power).

Yet the higher realization lies in "not valuing the teacher, not cherishing the resources." While understanding the value of teacher-student relationships, practitioners shouldn't become attached to them. Like fish in rivers needing no artificial moisture exchange, true cultivators should achieve "simultaneous forgetting" (jian wang) of both roles. What appears as confusion actually contains the essential secret of Dao cultivation.

Emperor Xuanzong's commentary reveals this chapter teaches the state of "learning emptiness." Beginners still maintain distinctions between teacher and student, instruction and cultivation, but at the ultimate stage, even these concepts must be released. This seemingly paradoxical teaching embodies Laozi's unique method—first establishing progressive cultivation stages, then transcending all conceptual distinctions.

Plain-Language Interpretation

Do Not Exalt the Teacher; Do Not Cherish the Student

If teachers are not respected and students are not cared for, there is no way to teach effectively or pass on the tradition. That is why the scripture says not to place the “teacher” on a lofty pedestal, or treat the “student” merely as someone to be used.

If a teacher does not care for students, the transmission of the mysterious teachings is blocked, like a silted waterway that can no longer nourish the land. If students do not respect their teacher, they lose their way on the path of wisdom and find it hard to return. To understand this is to grasp the essential mystery: the most important and subtle principle. To fail to understand it is to be profoundly deluded.

Rong’s Explanation

Respecting the teacher and honoring the Dao is what it means to “exalt”; guiding students with kindness and benevolence is what it means to “cherish.” Teachers and students should, by nature, respect and care for one another. If teachers do not care for students, the mysterious teachings cannot be passed on. If students do not respect their teachers, the path of wisdom is cut off, and they cannot return. What is understood is the essential mystery; what is missed is profound delusion.

Cheng Xuanying’s Commentary

“Do not exalt the teacher” means lacking the ability or willingness to guide and transform others. “Do not cherish the student” means lacking someone to teach, or lacking the desire to teach. Earlier, the text urged ordinary people to cultivate themselves through the Way of the sages. Here it explains that, in principle, ordinary people and sages can be equal, so even the labels “teacher” and “student” can be set aside. In this way, one moves from the shallow to the deep, gradually entering the many wondrous realms.

Though This Seems Profoundly Deluded, It Is Called the Essential Mystery

Imperial Commentary: Letting go of attachment on both sides—the teacher’s and the student’s—is called Mysterious Virtue. Ordinary people do not understand this and think it is utter foolishness. So the sage says: although the world considers it profoundly deluded, seen with the eye of the Dao, it is precisely the essential mystery.

Heshanggong: “Though this seems profoundly deluded” means that some people think themselves very clever, when in fact they are deeply deluded. Only those who understand this can be said to grasp the subtle and essential Dao.

Cheng’s Commentary: When teacher and student are both forgotten, sages and ordinary people are one in principle. To the world, distinguishing “who is the teacher” from “who is the student” may seem profoundly deluded; in principle, it is precisely the essential mystery.

Chapter Twenty-Eight: “Know the Masculine” (Chapter Summary)

This chapter follows the one before it. The previous chapter discussed always being good at saving people, but did not yet explain in detail how to save people and things. This chapter therefore gives a brief outline of the main points.

The chapter has four sections:

1. Leave behind hardness and choose softness — the path a practitioner should follow

2. Urge people to return from brightness to darkness — an example for those who study the Dao

3. Keep to disgrace, forget honor, and return to the root

4. Shape the myriad things and forget one’s achievements — benefit things without claiming credit

First Section: Leaving Behind Hardness and Choosing Softness Is an Essential Path of Cultivation

The Daoist tradition regards ferocity and the display of strength as ill omens. The sages of old also said that even a powerful army cannot always win by taking the lead, while soft and yielding water can wear through stone and overcome what is hard. Zhang Hua said: Do not pride yourself on glory, for Heaven’s Dao abhors fullness. Do not rely on wealth and status; even a resounding rise can end in a fall. The words of the wise are no empty sayings.

This passage expounds the Daoist cultivation wisdom of "knowing the masculine but guarding the feminine." Here, "masculine" represents strength and agitation, while "feminine" embodies softness and tranquility. Those who truly understand the way of strength will instead maintain a gentle demeanor, humbly positioning themselves like the valley streams of the world.

Though streams occupy low-lying positions, they naturally gather the waters of a hundred rivers. Similarly, if practitioners can preserve the virtue (Chang De, or Constant Virtue) of gentleness and humility, all things will naturally return to them as waters flow to valleys. This state resembles returning to the purity and desirelessness of an infant—babies lack strong self-awareness yet spontaneously align with the Dao.

Commentators unanimously emphasize that knowing the principle of strength while abiding in softness constitutes the highest form of worldly wisdom. Just as water always flows downward, practitioners who maintain humility will never lose true virtue (Chang De). The sage Heshang Gong particularly notes that even when occupying honorable positions, one should preserve a humble attitude. Yan Junping describes this state as returning to the innocent purity of an infant, free from knowledge and desire.

This "knowing the masculine but guarding the feminine" wisdom isn't mere weakness, but an understanding of the subtle interplay between strength and gentleness. Like the sun and moon following their courses or the seasons progressing in order, those who truly comprehend the Dao can maintain their fundamental nature amidst life's complexities, preserving their Dao-heart through countless trials.

Knowing what is strong and vigorous (representing the active, assertive state), yet abiding in gentleness and receptivity (the soft, yielding state) - this is like being the valley of the world. The valley, always remaining low, gathers all waters unto itself. Here, the "strong" represents yang's dynamic and forceful nature, while "gentle" embodies yin's soft and tranquil qualities. Understanding that the agitation and violence of strength ultimately lead to dissolution, while the stillness and yielding of gentleness bring enduring life, one therefore relinquishes the strong to embrace the gentle - this is the essential path to the great Dao.

Maintaining this eternal De (Virtue) without dissipation enables return to the undifferentiated purity of an infant. "Dissipation" refers to the scattering of virtue, while "infant" symbolizes pure wisdom free from discrimination. This means that by constantly preserving tranquility, one's virtue remains intact, allowing return to original nature and attainment of non-dual wisdom.

The second passage teaches the importance of withdrawing brilliance to embrace obscurity as a model for Dao cultivation. Knowing what is bright and luminous, yet abiding in darkness - this enables one to become the standard for the world. Becoming the world's standard, the eternal virtue will never err, ultimately returning to the boundless source of Dao.

Here "white" represents radiant illumination, "black" signifies obscure darkness, and "standard" means the guiding principle. By maintaining gentle tranquility, virtue naturally becomes manifest, yet even when virtue shines forth, one should not flaunt it but preserve the simple, harmonious state of obscurity. Achieving this, one becomes the world's standard. As the standard, the application of eternal virtue never goes astray, and this application is itself limitless - thus it ultimately returns to the inexhaustible origin of Dao.

Heshang Gong explains: Here "white" symbolizes manifest clarity.

A Contrast Between Manifest Brightness and Concealment

Though you know clearly that you are awake and perceptive, you should still hold fast to “silence”—as if dwelling in obscurity, with nothing to display. Only then can you become a model for all under Heaven, a standard others can follow. As a model for all under Heaven, your constant De (Virtue) will not go astray. When De does not go astray, you can live long and endure, allowing body and mind to return to the boundless.

Yan Zun says: “Return to what was before birth, return to what came before beginnings, and be constant with the Dao; then you return to the boundless.”

Rong Yi says: “Know brightness and hold to darkness; be a model for all under Heaven.” This means that great brightness seems tarnished, and great wisdom seems foolish. Conceal your traces and keep yourself safe; only then can you serve as a model. When constant De does not go astray, you return to the boundless. “Going astray” means deviating or losing one’s way. If people do not flaunt their intelligence or let fame harm them, they remain inwardly pure while outwardly blending with the world. Those who establish themselves can receive lasting rewards, and those who cultivate the Dao can attain the boundless state of realization.

Cheng Xuanying’s Commentary

“Know brightness and hold to darkness; be a model for all under Heaven”: “Brightness” means clarity, “darkness” means obscurity, and “model” means a standard to follow. If you show off your clarity and display yourself to others, you are bound to suffer setbacks. Therefore, the wise conceal their brilliance and their traces, withdraw into obscurity, and do not oppose the things around them. Such a person of De can discern the benefits and harms of darkness and brightness, and can serve as an expansive example for those who study and cultivate. “Constant De does not go astray; return to the boundless”: “Going astray” means deviating or losing one’s way; the boundless is the Dao. If you consistently abandon brightness and hold to darkness, your De will not go astray. Once you have returned to clarity and emptiness, you arrive at the highest Dao.

Part Three: Embrace Humility and Forget Honor; Return to the Root and the Origin

Know honor, hold to disgrace, and become the valley of all under Heaven. Become the valley of all under Heaven, and constant De will be fulfilled; then return to the uncarved simplicity.

Imperial Commentary

Though De is honored and exalted, continually hold to lowliness and disgrace. Things respond when they are moved, like a valley answering an echo; it receives emptiness without end. When constant De is complete and full, you return to the Dao.

Imperial Subcommentary

“Know honor, hold to disgrace, and become the valley of all under Heaven”: “Honor” means distinction and esteem; “disgrace” means lowliness and humiliation. Once you have become a model for all under Heaven, your De is honored. Yet even though your De is honored, you continually hold to lowliness and disgrace, valuing harmony above all and making room for everything. Like an empty valley, you respond to whatever comes; hence the phrase “become the valley of all under Heaven.” “Become the valley of all under Heaven, and constant De will be fulfilled; then return to the uncarved simplicity”: the uncarved simplicity is the Dao. By receiving things with emptiness and responding to them like the spirit of the valley, your true and constant De becomes complete. Once complete, it returns to the Dao of unadulterated simplicity.

The Dao is the root of De (Virtue/Power), while De is the function of the Dao. Viewed from its function, possessing constant De leads to perfection; viewed from its essence, one ultimately returns to the state of pristine simplicity. Returning to simplicity allows one to reach the profound and pure origin, while maintaining constant De enables one to respond to endless transformations. Who but the most enlightened in the world can achieve this?

Heshang Gong explains: Knowing glory yet abiding in humility is like being the valley of the world. Glory symbolizes nobility, while humility symbolizes lowliness. If a person recognizes their own nobility yet remains humble, the people of the world will flow toward them like water into a deep valley. Willing to be the valley of the world, one's constant De will be full. "Full" here means perfection. If one can remain as open as a valley, De will dwell within them, ultimately returning to pristine simplicity, free from superficial adornment.

Yan Junping states: The Dao and De are the protectors, while the divine and luminous are the assistants. When Dao and De are abundant, all things return to their purest and simplest state. Master Rong says: Knowing glory yet abiding in humility is like the valley of the world. Holding office brings rank and honor, while lacking office brings obscurity. To occupy a high position without pride, remaining humble, is to embrace all. Willing to be the valley of the world, constant De naturally becomes perfect, and one ultimately returns to pristine simplicity. Facing wealth and honor as if they were poverty and lowliness, and treating glory as if it were disgrace—this is the true fullness of constant De. Because constant De returns to its origin, it is said to "return to simplicity."

Cheng Xuanying elaborates: Knowing glory yet abiding in humility is like the valley of the world. "Glory" refers to nobility, while "disgrace" refers to lowliness. If a person becomes arrogant and indulgent due to nobility, blessings will turn into calamities. Understanding that fortune and misfortune are intertwined, and knowing that nobility may invite disaster, one should remain vigilant and avoid indulgence. Though dwelling in splendor, one should always maintain humility, for nobility is rooted in lowliness, and high positions are founded on what lies below. Thus, knowing glory yet abiding in humility causes the people of the world to gather like rivers flowing into a valley. When constant De is full, one returns to pristine simplicity. "Simplicity" is the original state of truth. From recognizing strength to abiding in humility, these three practices are key to attaining the Dao. Like an empty valley that contains all, constant Dao and supreme De reach perfection, ultimately returning to the wondrous origin of true emptiness.

The fourth section clarifies how the sage accomplishes all things yet claims no merit: When simplicity disperses, it forms concrete vessels, and the sage uses these vessels to govern the people—yet claims no credit.

This passage elucidates the transformative process of the Dao from formlessness to form, and how sages employ this transformation to govern the world.

"Containing De (Virtue) within" refers to the state where one returns to primordial simplicity (returning to the Uncarved Block) when inner virtue becomes complete. When this constant virtue manifests outwardly (the application of constant De), it disperses and materializes as various concrete phenomena (scattering to become vessels). Once forms emerge, distinctions between the refined and coarse inevitably arise (there must be subtleties and roughness).

When sages apply this principle, they become the guiding authority over diverse talents (the officials and leaders of all materials). Ordinary people may preserve their own simplicity, but sages can extensively aid all beings, becoming leaders of the multitude. Just as the Dao disperses to become spiritual luminaries, the sun and moon, and the Five Phases (Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, Water), sages employing this principle become the foremost among officials (the head of officials).

The text uses "undifferentiated primordial Qi" (the initial, undivided primal energy) as a metaphor for the state of the "Uncarved Block." When it differentiates (the three Qi finding their positions), concrete forms emerge (vessels). The transition from formless to formed resembles how, after establishing the hierarchy of heaven above and earth below, the distinctions between noble rulers and humble ministers become clear. Sages establish monarchical systems (officials and leaders) to govern all states, embodying the principle that "the great system does not cut apart"—it nurtures all things without harming them.

Finally, it emphasizes how sages use the Dao to govern all beings (the great system for nurturing life), warming and nourishing all things like spring (genial as springtime), enabling all living things to flourish naturally (all creatures thriving), without causing harm (not cutting or injuring). This mode of governance emulates the Dao's principle of dispersing to nurture all existence.

This passage explains how sages—individuals of supreme moral cultivation—employ the Dao to govern the world and cultivate themselves. Sages possess perfect De (Virtue/Power), emulating the natural rhythms of heaven and earth. Like the sky bestowing rain and dew to nourish all beings, they allow all life to flourish naturally without harming creatures for selfish gain. This embodies the principle of "the greatest governance does not sever" (大制不割)—the highest form of rule causes no injury.

Heshang Gong (a renowned Han dynasty commentator on Daoist scriptures) elucidates: When sages govern the world, they use the Dao to oversee all affairs without harming the people; when cultivating themselves, they employ the Dao to regulate desires without depleting their Shen (spirit).

The Tang dynasty Daoist Cheng Xuanying further clarifies: The sage's power is inconceivable, capable of governing all realms within and beyond the three worlds (the realms of desire, form, and formlessness). Though they guide all things and nurture myriad beings, they never claim merit or assert dominance over creation. Here, "sever" (割) implies forceful control or domination.

The core teaching reveals that true sages follow nature's way, governing and transforming through Wuwei (non-action). They enable all things to fulfill their innate potential without interference, neither imposing control nor seeking recognition for their accomplishments.