《道德真經衍義手鈔》Vol. 20

This passage uses the metaphor of crafting a bow to explain the operational principles of "the Dao of Heaven" as described in the Daode Jing (Classic of the Way and Virtue). To make a fine bow requires six materials (wood, ox horn, animal sinew, glue, silk thread, and lacquer), and the craftsman must select and process them according to the seasons: choosing wood in winter, treating sinew in summer, softening horn in spring, weaving silk in autumn, and shaping the bow during cold weather. Only with high-quality materials, refined craftsmanship, and precise timing can a well-balanced bow be produced.

The Xici Zhuan (Commentary on the Appended Phrases) in the Zhouyi (Book of Changes) states that the Dao of Heaven is composed of Yin and Yang, the Dao of Earth manifests as softness and hardness, and the Dao of Humanity expresses itself through benevolence and righteousness. Just as the sun and moon alternate and the seasons cycle, the Dao of Heaven always reduces what is excessive and supplements what is lacking, thereby sustaining the harmonious progression of the four seasons. The Tuan commentary on the Qian (Modesty) hexagram in the Zhouyi says, "The Dao of Heaven diminishes the full and augments the humble," while the Earth's embrace of mountains in their modest posture reminds the noble person to take from the abundant to supplement the scarce, maintaining balance among all things.

Here, the principle of "lowering the high and raising the low" in bow-making illustrates how the Dao of Heaven operates like adjusting a bowstring: what is high is pressed down slightly, what is low is lifted slightly; what is excessive is reduced, and what is insufficient is replenished. This philosophy of dynamic equilibrium is reflected not only in the laws of nature but also applies to human cultivation and conduct.

The operation of the Dao follows the principle of reducing excess to supplement deficiency, yet human practices do precisely the opposite—often depriving the insufficient to serve those who already have abundance.

The "Diminishing" hexagram (Sun) in the Book of Changes states "diminishing what is below to increase what is above," while the "Increasing" hexagram (Yi) declares "diminishing what is above to benefit what is below, and the people will rejoice without limit." From the hexagram imagery, we see that diminishing the third yang line in the "Peace" hexagram (Tai) to strengthen the top yang line forms the "Diminishing" hexagram; whereas reducing the fourth yang line in the "Stagnation" hexagram (Pi) to enhance the first yang line creates the "Increasing" hexagram. This reveals the wisdom of taking from the abundant above to compensate for the lacking below.

The Dao of heaven emphasizes balance—trimming excess and supplementing deficiency. Yet human society acts contrary to this, exploiting the poor and weak to serve the rich and powerful. The truly Dao-aligned approach would be to support the lowly while restraining the lofty, reducing the overflowing and increasing the humble. This is key to governing a nation and pacifying its people, as well as the fundamental principle for self-cultivation in harmony with the Dao.

Historically, Celestial Master (Tianshi) Zhai Qianyou, a senior Daoist priest, was renowned for his mastery of summoning rituals (a Daoist practice to invoke deities and exorcise evil). Water, the softest substance in the world, can overcome the hardest objects—a property nothing else can replace. Water excels at staying low without contention, moving or resting in accordance with the seasons, and adapting its shape to any container.

The workings of water are profoundly mysterious: its essence is supremely soft, its nature tends downward, and all rivers converge toward it. Viewed macroscopically, it is vast as the ocean yet never overflows; observed microscopically, it can moisten even the finest hair tip. Laozi compared water to the Dao because it possesses three virtues of non-contention and seven perfect qualities. Water embraces all things, penetrates every form, purifies while dwelling in filth, and maintains its nature while adapting to square or round vessels. Precisely because of such pliancy, nothing can harm it. When accumulated with momentum, it can float the Ten Continents and Eight Extremities, swallow the sun and moon while encompassing heaven and earth, transform mountains and valleys—there is nothing it cannot accomplish. This is the true meaning of "the soft and weak overcoming the hard and strong."

This scripture elucidates the core Daoist principle that "the soft and weak overcome the hard and strong." Laozi observes that seemingly gentle and yielding phenomena possess invincible power precisely because their nature aligns with the Dao (the Way) of spontaneity. Just as water wears away stone and willow branches bend without breaking in the wind, those who maintain a humble, yielding disposition can better adapt to life's transformations.

Several historical parables illustrate this wisdom: Emperor Guangwu of Han unified the empire through yielding strategies; King Tang of Shang demonstrated royal virtue by taking responsibility for all misdeeds upon himself; during the Jin-Chu wars, King Zhuang of Chu displayed strategic wisdom by tactical retreats; Duke Jing of Song remained composed when facing celestial omens. These examples reveal how true strength often manifests through gentle humility.

The Zhuangzi supplements this teaching with metaphors: a wronged man wouldn't break his sword in vengeance, just as people don't resent randomly falling roof tiles—both illustrating the philosophy of non-attachment to resentment. The sage resembles one who holds an IOU yet never demands repayment, while virtuous leaders govern contracts through trust rather than petty calculations. Though Heaven's Dao shows no favoritism, it consistently supports the virtuous, as seen in Guo Ju's legendary filial piety that moved celestial forces.

Collectively, these teachings reveal the Daoist wisdom of "maintaining softness and dwelling below"—demonstrating how seemingly passive yielding contains tremendous vitality, representing a survival principle in harmony with nature's Dao.

This chapter presents Laozi's vision of an ideal "small state with few people" society. The reference to "Pan Geng's three migrations" alludes to the historical account of Shang dynasty ruler Pan Geng (younger brother of King Yang Jia), who relocated the capital three times after the original capital at Geng was destroyed by the Yellow River floods, eventually settling at Yin (modern-day Anyang, Henan). Wang Bi's commentary explains that Pan Geng issued three proclamations addressed respectively to officials, commoners, and nobles, outlining the benefits of relocation and the dangers of remaining.

The scripture describes an ideal society where people are deeply attached to their homeland and would not use advanced tools even if available. This resembles the "Age of Perfect Virtue (De)" depicted in the Zhuangzi's "Horses' Hooves" chapter: mountains without man-made paths, marshes without boats or bridges, all things growing naturally, and humans living in harmony with animals. In such times, people were self-sufficient with no need for trade requiring boats or carts—hence even if such vehicles existed, no one would ride them, and armor or weapons would remain unused.

The Mao Odes' "Wild Geese" section praises King Xuan of Zhou for resettling displaced people, including widowers, widows, orphans, and the childless. But Laozi yearns for an even more primal state, advocating a return to the simplicity of knot-record keeping. While the Book of Changes mentions ancient people hollowing logs for boats and carving wood for oars to cross rivers, Laozi suggests such inventions become unnecessary in his ideal society—just as the Huan hexagram's "favorable to cross great rivers" would lose all meaning in this context.

This passage primarily depicts the harmonious society resulting from benevolent governance and the attitude of finding contentment in simple living.

Regarding benevolent governance, it recounts how Mencius advised King Hui of Liang: If a ruler practices benevolent policies by reducing punishments and taxes, allowing people to farm peacefully while young men have leisure to learn filial piety, fraternal duty, loyalty, and trustworthiness—serving parents and elders at home while respecting seniors abroad—such people could resist the well-equipped armies of Qin and Chu with mere wooden sticks. This illustrates how benevolent governance strengthens a nation.

Quoting the Book of Changes (Yijing), the text explains how ancient people recorded events with knotted ropes until sages invented writing to administer states. The "Guai" hexagram (composed of five solid yang lines and one broken yin line) symbolizes decisive judgment, implying that statecraft requires wise decision-making.

Depicting an ideal society, it describes people finding coarse food delicious, plain clothing beautiful, living contentedly where neighboring states hear each other's roosters and dogs yet never interfere. Citing the Analects and Zhuangzi, it shows Confucius enjoying simple meals of coarse grain and cold water, and during his hardship in Chen and Cai—though going seven days without cooked food while surviving on wild herb soup—still playing the zither and singing, embodying the spirit of finding joy in poverty.

Finally, through Confucius's dialogue with Rong Qiqi, the text reveals true happiness lies beyond material conditions: Rong Qiqi, clad in crude deerskin, found joy in three things—being human, being male, and living to ninety—demonstrating the wisdom of contentment and accepting one's lot in life.

Confucius exclaimed in admiration: "Excellent! This is someone who knows how to find contentment in himself." This ancient anecdote illustrates the joy of wearing simple deerskin garments.

The commentary explains how one can find peace even living in a humble dwelling with a thatched roof and walls of wild grasses. It references a story from the Zhuangzi's "Abdicating Kings" chapter: When Yuan Xian lived in Lu, his dwelling consisted merely of four earthen walls with fresh grass for a roof, an incomplete door woven from reeds, mulberry branches for door hinges, and broken pottery jars as windows. The single room was divided in two. Though wearing coarse cloth against the wind, with rain leaking through the roof onto the damp earthen floor, he could sit upright playing his zither. This exemplifies finding comfort in austere living conditions.

The text further describes how people adapt to and find happiness in extreme environments - the scorching heat of southern volcanic regions where fireproof cloth-producing rats dwell, and the bitter cold of northern glacial mountains inhabited by ice silkworms. Despite these harsh climates, both local inhabitants and creatures adapt to their circumstances and maintain contentment. This demonstrates the principle of being at ease wherever one finds oneself.

The Liezi's "Yellow Emperor" chapter describes divine beings on Mount Guye who "inhale wind and drink dew," consuming no grains, with hearts deep as springs and youthful appearances. Neither seeking intimacy nor maintaining distance, they attract sages who willingly serve them; neither displaying authority nor anger, yet ghosts and spirits naturally obey. Without giving or hoarding, their resources remain abundant; without gathering or taxing, their needs are always met. There, Yin and Yang harmonize, sun and moon shine perpetually, seasons follow their proper course, winds and rains come timely, and harvests are plentiful. The land knows no disasters, people meet no premature deaths, creatures suffer no illnesses, and even ghosts cause no disturbances.

As Zhuangzi's "Great Ancestral Teacher" chapter states: "When springs dry up, fish huddle on land moistening each other with spit - better to forget each other in rivers and lakes." Similarly, Bai Juyi's poem describes Zhu-Chen village where only two family names intermarried for generations, living in perfect harmony.

(Chapter 81 explains how true words aren't ornate, and ornate words aren't true. The virtuous don't argue, and arguers lack virtue. The truly knowledgeable don't display, and display suggests superficial knowledge.)

Genuine words often lack ornamentation, while eloquent rhetoric may prove unreliable. The truly virtuous do not engage in clever debates, and those who delight in argumentation often lack true goodness. The genuinely wise do not deliberately pursue extensive knowledge, for those who single-mindedly seek erudition may lose sight of authentic wisdom.

The Book of Odes states that a thief's words sound sweet, like the most delicious food; glib speech resonates as pleasantly as reed pipes. The chapter "Artful Speech" in the Minor Odes observes: When noblemen frequently form alliances, it may foster calamity, while trusting thieves' words invites violence. Honeyed words bring disaster—these are not proper ways to govern, but only burdens for rulers. Just as gentlemen plant supple trees, so must they carefully discern fickle words in their hearts. Empty boasts flow from mouths, and the smooth-tongued possess shamelessly thick skins.

Confucius remarked that words need only convey meaning without striving for ornate eloquence. The Analects records him saying in "Duke Ling of Wei": "In language, it is simply required that it convey the meaning," emphasizing precision over embellishment. In the "Li Ren" chapter, when telling Zeng Shen "My Way is bound together with one thread," he demonstrated how truth remains simple and coherent.

Zhuangzi's "Mending Nature" chapter observes: Excessive pursuit of literary embellishment obscures essence, while greed for breadth leads the mind astray. People become obsessed with superficial learning, using ornate writings to mask their simple nature and drowning their pure hearts in fragmented knowledge—ultimately losing the great Dao of natural non-action (Wuwei). Thus the Daode Jing states: "Those who know don't generalize; those who generalize don't know."

Sages do not hoard knowledge—the more they give others, the more they possess; the more they help people, the more they gain. As Fan Zhongyan (posthumously titled Duke Wenzheng) taught his son Fan Chunren (courtesy name Yaofu), these principles are thoroughly recorded in the classics and need no repetition here.