《道德真經衍義手鈔》Vol. 14

This passage elucidates the essence of two chapters from Daoist classics.

Regarding the chapter on "The sage has no constant mind," the text cites Zhuangzi's explanation that a true sage (one of supreme moral cultivation) maintains a mind like a mirror—neither actively pursuing nor deliberately avoiding anything, simply reflecting reality as it is. In the "Responding to Emperors and Kings" chapter, Zhuangzi further states that the sage does not chase empty fame, play mind games, force burdens upon themselves, or flaunt cleverness, instead wholly aligning with the natural order. Like a mirror reflecting objects, it neither rejects what comes nor retains what leaves, thus capable of responding to all things without harm.

Two examples are given: first, the story of Duke Mu of Qin losing his prized steed (from the Zuo Zhuan), and second, the tale of someone presenting live fish to Zichan of Zheng (from the Mencius). These illustrate that the sage treats others with sincerity, regardless of whether they are trustworthy themselves. As described in the Analects, a truly cultivated person appears humble and unadorned, never flaunting their abilities.

Concerning the chapter on "Emerging into life, entering death," the Book of Changes (Yijing) is cited to explain the principle of life and death. By observing the patterns of heaven and earth, one can comprehend the transformations between life and death. Tracing the origins and ends of things reveals their essential nature. The text mentions that the human body has nine apertures (eyes, ears, nose, mouth, etc.) and four limbs, which serve as gateways to life but can also become pathways to death due to the "three karmas" (actions of body, speech, and mind) and the "ten evils" (ten harmful deeds). This demonstrates the subtle equilibrium between life and death.

This passage explores two core Daoist concepts: the meaning of "ten and three," and the life-nourishing principle of "abiding in timeliness and following natural order."

Regarding "ten and three," Han Feizi and Heshang Gong (a Han dynasty Daoist scholar) both interpret it as referring to the body's nine orifices (two ears, two eyes, two nostrils, one mouth, plus two excretory openings) combined with the four limbs (two arms and two legs). Another interpretation suggests it denotes the "three karmic actions and ten evils" - where the three actions pertain to body, speech, and mind, while the ten evils enumerate harmful behaviors including killing, stealing, sexual misconduct, rebellion, slandering scriptures, cursing and deceit, scheming and jealousy, sowing discord, breaking precepts, and defiling sacred spaces.

Sun Deng (a Jin dynasty recluse) offers a more profound reading: among all things between heaven and earth, few follow natural laws while many violate them. Of creatures living peacefully, only three in ten abide by cosmic principles; similarly, among dying beings, merely three in ten follow natural patterns. Emperor Xuanzong of Tang shared this perspective in his commentary on the Dao De Jing.

True life-nourishment lies not in indulging pleasures but preserving life's authentic essence. When desires don't disturb the Shen (spirit), when excess doesn't harm one's nature, when one dwells in serene simplicity and harmonizes with nature - then the spirit safeguards the body, Qi nourishes the essence, and the mind finds equilibrium. Without forcibly pursuing longevity, life naturally extends; without straining for cultivation, the Dao naturally deepens. This encapsulates Celestial Master Du Guangting's (prominent Tang dynasty Daoist) teachings on authentic life-nourishment. The author laments that perhaps not one in a thousand attains this state.

"Abiding in timeliness and following natural order" originates from Zhuangzi's "Great Ancestral Teacher" chapter, meaning: gains come through timely opportunity, losses follow natural cycles. Those who abide in fortune's timing and conform to changes remain untroubled by emotional extremes - what ancients called "suspended liberation" (a state of transcendent freedom). Paradoxically, overzealous pursuit of longevity backfires. As Zhuangzi's "Full Understanding of Life" chapter observes: nourishing form requires material means, yet material excess harms life. True masters of life-nourishment walk unharmed among rhinos and tigers, enter battlefields unarmored - for they embody harmony with nature's ways.

When a rhinoceros finds no place to thrust its horn, when a tiger finds no place to sink its claws, when weapons find no place to wield their blades—why is this so? Because such a person has transcended the boundaries of life and death.

Zhuangzi said: If a person can dwell in this world with a mind as empty and selfless as an unmanned boat, who could possibly harm him? This references the story from the "Mountain Tree" chapter of the Zhuangzi: When two boats cross a river side by side and an empty boat drifts into them, even a hot-tempered person won't get angry, precisely because it's unmanned. But if someone is aboard, people will shout for them to steer clear. If the warning goes unheeded once, then twice, by the third time curses will follow. The shift from calm to anger occurs solely because the formerly empty boat now carries a person. If one can move through the world as selflessly as that empty vessel, who could do them harm?

The exploits of Liu Gang recorded in the Biographies of Immortals (Shenxian Zhuan) are already recounted in great detail within those immortal biographies.

Chapter 51 of the Daode Jing speaks of "the Dao gives birth": The Dao generates all things, De (Virtue/Power) nurtures them, matter forms their physical bodies, and circumstances facilitate their growth.

Just as naked creatures must go unclothed, while scaled or feathered animals must bear their natural coverings—such is the law of nature. In Chapter 24 of The School Sayings of Confucius (Kongzi Jiayu), Confucius answers Zigong by saying: I once heard Laozi explain that people from hard earth are unyielding, those from soft earth are pliant, sandy soil breeds refinement, fertile land produces beauty, while barren ground fosters ugliness. Water-drinking creatures swim well and endure cold; soil-eating beings lack hearts and don't breathe; wood-consuming animals are strong but suffer imbalanced Qi and blood; grass-eaters run swiftly yet are dull; mulberry-leaf eaters spin silk and become moths; meat-consumers are brave and fierce; Qi-eating beings commune with the divine and attain longevity; grain-eaters become intelligent and wise; those who consume nothing achieve immortality as transcendents. Thus among 360 species of feathered creatures, the phoenix reigns supreme; among 360 furred animals, the qilin leads; 360 armored beings follow the turtle; and 360 naked creatures take humankind as their chief.

This scripture primarily discusses the characteristics of different life stages and the revered status of Dao (the Way) and De (Virtue/Power).

When a person reaches sixty years of age, they become an elder—a beautiful phenomenon between heaven and earth. Though all things manifest in diverse forms and countless numbers, rulers must follow the laws of Dao whether in action or stillness, complying with heavenly principles without harming life, thus attaining longevity and benevolent virtue.

Human life inevitably progresses from youth to aging and death. The Liezi·Heaven's Gifts records the Yellow Emperor's words: When the spirit (Shen) returns to the heavenly gate and bones return to the earth, what remains of "me"? Life has four stages: infancy, youth, old age, and death. In infancy, one's Qi is concentrated, the mind singularly pure, achieving perfect harmony where external things cannot cause harm—this is when De is most complete. In youth, vigorous blood and Qi lead to increased desires and thoughts, making one vulnerable to external disturbances, marking the decline of De. In old age, desires wane as the body gradually rests, and external things no longer compete—though not as whole as in infancy, this surpasses the state of youth. Death represents peaceful rest, a return to the ultimate state.

Thus, all things revere Dao and cherish De. Zhuangzi's concept of the "True Ruler" and "True Governor" (referring to the authentic existence that governs all things) expresses this principle. The Zhuangzi·Discourse on Making All Things Equal states: We know not what controls us—there seems to be a true governor, yet we find no trace of it. All things alternately serve as ruler and subject, yet within them truly exists the "True Ruler."

Dao's nobility and De's importance do not stem from conferred titles but are naturally so. Consider the Zhou dynasty's five noble ranks (Duke, Marquis, Earl, Viscount, Baron) or the ancient hierarchy of Son of Heaven, feudal lords, ministers, scholars, and commoners. In human affairs, rulers honor the capable with titles, yet such honor has limits. Dao, however, is revered by all things for creating them, and De is cherished for nurturing them—this ceaseless generative work remains eternally noble, without end.

As Mencius·Gaozi I states: There is nobility bestowed by heaven (heavenly rank), and nobility bestowed by humans (human rank).

Benevolence, righteousness, loyalty, and trustworthiness—delighting in virtuous deeds without weariness—these constitute the noble honors bestowed by Heaven (Tianjue). Positions such as dukes, ministers, and high officials, on the other hand, are honors granted by human society (Renjue). The ancients cultivated their heavenly honors, and earthly ranks naturally followed. But people today cultivate heavenly honors merely as a means to gain earthly ranks, discarding them once they are obtained. This is an utterly misguided approach that inevitably leads to ruin. Mencius regarded benevolence, righteousness, loyalty, and trustworthiness as heavenly honors, yet the reverence of the Dao (the Way) and the preciousness of De (Virtue) surpass even these. Thus it is said: "The Dao is revered and De is exalted not because any authority grants them rank, but because they are eternally and naturally so."

When Zhuangzi (a central figure in Daoism) was fishing by the Puyi River (in present-day Puyang, Henan), King Wei of Chu, recognizing his wisdom, sent envoys to invite him to serve as prime minister. The messengers conveyed the king’s wish to entrust him with state affairs, but Zhuangzi remained unmoved. This story originates from the "Autumn Floods" chapter of the Zhuangzi, the details of which need not be repeated here.

The true Profound Virtue (Xuande) lies in nurturing all things without claiming ownership, acting without self-importance, and guiding without domination. The Book of Changes (Yijing) states that the ancient sages used the Yi to awaken wisdom, accomplish great deeds, and comprehend the patterns of the universe. They employed the round and spiritually attuned qualities of yarrow stalks (divination tools), the square and wise forms of hexagrams, and the transformations of the six lines to discern fortune and misfortune. Through these means, sages purified their minds, concealed their wisdom without display, and shared both fortune and misfortune with the people. Who but the sages of old—endowed with extraordinary wisdom, virtue aligned with Heaven and Earth, yet never resorting to force—could foresee the future, understand the past, and still remain humble? Confucius spoke of "withdrawing and storing in secrecy," describing how these sages applied the Dao of the Yi, harnessing the mysteries of divination to nurture virtue without leaving traces. Is this not the very essence of Profound Virtue?

Dao De Jing Chapter 52 states: "Block the openings of desire, shut the gates of temptation, and to the end of life there will be no toil." The six sensory faculties (liugen: eyes, ears, nose, tongue, body, and mind) each have their own attachments. The Daoist scripture Taiji Zuoxian Weng Chanfa explains that from conception to birth, the human body develops these six roots, which then give rise to various cravings.

Daoism teaches that human afflictions and bondage originate from the "Three Karmas" (physical, verbal, and mental actions) and the "Six Roots" (six sensory faculties). The Six Roots specifically refer to: 1) eye faculty (vision), 2) ear faculty (hearing), 3) nose faculty (smell), 4) tongue faculty (taste), 5) body faculty (touch), and 6) mind faculty (consciousness). These sensory faculties, like flowering plants bearing fruit, continuously generate various karmic forces that mutually influence one another.

The Zhuangzi·Zaiyou chapter records how the Yellow Emperor sought advice from Guangchengzi on self-cultivation. The scripture reveals that indulging sensory desires ("having openings" refers to unrestrained senses) causes the mind's awareness to leak outward into material obsessions. Conversely, closing these sensory gateways preserves one's vital spirit (Shen). In the Yijing (Book of Changes), "opening" (Dui) symbolizes both joyful nourishment (like a marsh watering all things) and sensory gateways (eyes, mouth, etc.). Mastering the timely closure of these desire-gates enables personal cultivation and proper governance of states.

When desire-gates remain open, obsession with the "Six Dusts" (form, sound, scent, taste, touch, and mental objects—the six external realms) gradually depletes the spirit. Both the Zhuangzi·Dao Zhi chapter and the Jade Emperor's Scripture of Original Conduct describe how beings drown in suffering due to indulging the Six Roots, becoming polluted by the Six Dusts and accumulating Three Karmic obstructions. Historical cases like Zhang Bao's obsession with the Hua Yang official's wife during the Song Dynasty exemplify disasters caused by unchecked desires.

Chapter 53 of the Daode Jing states: "If I maintain clear awareness while walking the Dao (the Way), my greatest vigilance must be against indulging desires ('spreading' signifies indulgence)." This warns practitioners to constantly discipline the Six Roots, remaining untainted by external phenomena.

This passage elucidates Daoist thought through several classical allusions. Nie Que (a Daoist figure) asked Wang Ni (a Daoist perfected being) whether he knew all things share the same essence. Wang Ni replied that he didn't know, then countered: "How do you know what you call 'knowing' isn't actually 'not knowing'?" This illustrates the Daoist dialectical approach to cognition, recognizing the limitations of human knowledge.

The text then quotes the Daode Jing: "The great Dao (the Way) is perfectly level, yet people prefer bypaths." Using the story of Tan Tai Mieming (a disciple of Confucius) who refused to take shortcuts, it metaphorically suggests spiritual cultivators should follow the proper path.

Historical lessons about King Zhou of Shang, King Ling of Chu's Zhanghua Terrace, and Qin Shihuang's Epang Palace demonstrate how rulers obsessed with extravagant palaces while neglecting the people's welfare ultimately met their downfall. King Zhou indulged in wine and women while persecuting loyal ministers, drawing condemnation in King Wu of Zhou's Great Declaration; King Ling's lavish terrace soon fell into ruin; Qin's unfinished palace was captured by Liu Bang before completion. These examples all show how pursuing superficial splendor damages fundamental principles and cannot ensure lasting governance.

The passage as a whole expounds the Daoist principle of "embracing simplicity and holding to purity," opposing ostentatious extravagance in favor of returning to fundamentals. Through historical warnings, it demonstrates how excessive material pursuits invite disaster, subtly aligning with the political philosophy of Wuwei (non-action) governance.

This passage employs historical anecdotes to reveal how rulers' excessive extravagance leads to the downfall of states.

The "Five Brothers' Songs" from the Book of Documents records how the five brothers of Taikang (a decadent ruler of the Xia dynasty) composed admonitory verses, identifying four vices that could singly cause a state's collapse: indulgence in sensual pleasures, obsessive hunting, drunken revelry, and extravagant construction projects. Similarly, the "Chuci" poem from the Book of Odes satirizes King You of Zhou, whose oppressive decrees, heavy taxation, and neglected farmlands caused famine, displaced populations, and even interrupted ancestral sacrifices.

The text particularly condemns rulers who "wear ornate robes, gird sharp swords, indulge in lavish banquets, and hoard wealth," denouncing such ostentation as banditry utterly divorced from the Dao. The extreme example of Emperor Yang of Sui illustrates this: he built the 200-li Western Park with artificial seas and fairy mountains, adorned withered trees with silk flowers, and even covered ponds with silk-cut lotus blossoms. Consorts from sixteen palaces vied to please him with nightly processions of thousands of silk-clad palace maidens riding through gardens to musical accompaniment. His southern tours featured 200-foot four-story dragon boats pulled by 80,000 robed laborers, with vessels lining 200 li of river in obscene extravagance.

These historical cases uniformly demonstrate that when rulers wallow in pleasure while exhausting people and resources, societal collapse becomes inevitable. As Laozi observed, such flaunting of wealth constitutes not the true Dao, but the logic of bandits.

This passage reveals the social harms caused by rulers' extravagance through several historical anecdotes.

During the Jin Dynasty, Wang Kai used a forty-li-long purple silk screen (a ceremonial barrier for nobles' processions) to flaunt his wealth, only to be outdone by Shi Chong, who displayed a fifty-li-long brocade screen. Later, when Shi Chong was executed over the Lü Zhu incident, he realized too late that his riches had brought him calamity.

In the Eastern Han Dynasty, Ma Liao submitted a memorial of remonstrance, citing folk proverbs to illustrate how rulers' habits set trends for the people: When the King of Wu favored swordsmen, his subjects bore many sword wounds; when the King of Chu admired slender waists, palace women starved to death; when high chignons became fashionable in Chang’an, commoners wore their hair a full foot tall; when broad eyebrows were in vogue, people painted them halfway across their foreheads; when wide sleeves grew trendy, commoners used entire bolts of cloth for their sleeves. Though exaggerated, these proverbs reflected real social phenomena.

During the Spring and Autumn period, King Helü of Wu ordered Gan Jiang to forge swords, resulting in the famed blades "Gan Jiang" and "Mo Ye." King Huiwen of Zhao, obsessed with swordsmanship, kept over three thousand swordsmen dueling day and night. In three years, hundreds died or were wounded, weakening the state and inviting covetousness from rival lords.

Under Emperor Wu of Jin, Chancellor He Zeng spent ten thousand coins daily on meals, yet complained there was "no place to put his chopsticks"—even demanding his steamed buns have cross-shaped cracks before he would eat them. Critics condemned his excess, suggesting he be posthumously titled "the Absurd and Ugly."

These stories all demonstrate how rulers' lavish tastes spur social imitation, ultimately leading to national decline and widespread suffering among the people.

This passage describes the wicked deeds of King Zhou of Shang (the last tyrannical ruler of the Shang dynasty), whose insatiable greed led him to amass excessive wealth. The scripture points out: when names and realities don't correspond, it becomes absurd; when one exploits chaos to act recklessly, it becomes vile.

The commentary cites King Zhou as an example: he hoarded countless treasures at Lutai (the Shang dynasty's treasury) and stockpiled vast quantities of grain at Juqiao (the Shang dynasty's granary). Yet he only knew how to accumulate wealth, not how to distribute it to relieve the people. Though his coffers overflowed, his greed remained unquenched.

The Book of Documents chapter "Wu Cheng" records: after King Wu of Zhou defeated King Zhou, he immediately opened Lutai's vaults to distribute the wealth and released Juqiao's grain to aid the people. By generously bestowing benefits upon all under heaven, he won the heartfelt support of the masses. This historical anecdote illustrates that rulers who hoard wealth lose the people's hearts, while those who share it gain their loyalty.

(Note: This commentary uses historical allusion to expound the Daoist political principles of "non-accumulation" and "knowing sufficiency," opposing rulers who exploit the people through excessive taxation and advocating instead for sharing wealth with the populace.)