《道德真經衍義手鈔》Vol. 9

This passage discusses how to judge others and understand oneself. Zhuangzi uses the metaphor of swans remaining pure white without daily washing and crows staying pitch black without dyeing to illustrate that the essence of things is formed naturally, not through external adornment. Just as Mencius said, observing a person lies in their eyes—those with upright hearts have clear gazes, while those with deceitful intentions have turbid ones. By listening to their words and observing their eyes, a person's true virtue or vice cannot be hidden.

The Jiuyou Chan (Repentance of the Nine Darknesses) offers another analogy: the retribution of good and evil is like a shadow following the body, just as a clean mirror reflects beauty and ugliness—human karma operates on the same principle. Yet Laozi reminds us that people often see the eyelashes (minute details) of others clearly but fail to perceive their own flaws. Thus, the Zhouyi (Book of Changes) advises constant self-reflection to comprehend gains and losses.

Regarding the saying, "To conquer others is strength, but to conquer oneself is true power," Liezi mentions two paths to victory in the world: the enduring way of triumph lies in softness, while the fleeting way lies in force. This principle is simple, yet few in the world grasp it—hence the ancient sages all understood the wisdom that gentleness overcomes rigidity.

This scripture elucidates the dialectical relationship between "strength" and "softness" through several historical allusions. It first points out that those who constantly seek to overpower others will ultimately bring danger upon themselves. Take the legendary archer Houyi and the mighty warrior Ao from ancient times: though one excelled in archery and the other could drag boats over land, both met untimely ends due to their reliance on brute force—Houyi was killed by his minister Han Zhuo, while Ao was slain by Shaokang.

The Doctrine of the Mean (Zhongyong) mentions the fierce temperament of northerners, who slept on weapons and armor, unafraid of death—yet this was merely the strength of reckless bravado. True strength, as Confucius taught, lies in harmonizing with others without blindly conforming, maintaining balance without partiality. Like the valiant warriors praised in the Book of Songs (Shijing), such strength requires overcoming selfish desires and upholding moral principles.

Finally, the text cites Zhuangzi’s account of the sage Zengzi: while living in the state of Wei, he wore tattered hemp robes and bore calloused hands and feet, yet remained content in his poverty and devoted to the Dao (the Way). This illustrates that true wealth lies in contentment, and true aspiration in steadfast cultivation. Through historical anecdotes and Confucian classics, the passage progressively deepens its admonition: aggressive dominance invites disaster, while gentle resilience and disciplined restraint embody genuine strength.

This passage blends Daoist classics with Confucian thought, illustrating the philosophy of "not losing one's foundation" through several parables.

It begins with the story of a recluse: wearing coarse hemp robes unchanged for ten years, his hat strings broken and sleeves frayed to expose elbows, his shoes worn through at the heels yet still dragging them while singing the "Odes of Shang" with a voice so resonant it filled heaven and earth like the pure tones of metal and stone instruments. Because his spiritual realm transcended worldly concerns, emperors couldn't compel him to serve as minister, nor could feudal lords befriend him. The Zhuangzi's "Abdicating Kings" chapter records Confucius observing his disciple Yan Hui's contentment with poverty rather than pursuing official career—exemplifying this joy in the Dao despite material hardship.

"Those who do not lose their foundation endure" means preserving one's roots brings lastingness. As the Heng (Perseverance) hexagram in the Book of Changes states: "Thunder and wind eternally accompany each other (the firm above and yielding below)," the noble person establishes themselves like unchanging natural laws. The Zhuangzi's "Great Ancestral Teacher" further explains: when one transcends attachments to life and death, they instantly penetrate truth (dawn illumination), then perceive the independent and unchanging Dao (seeing singularity), ultimately surpassing temporal constraints to reach the realm beyond death and birth. The Sixth Chan Patriarch Huineng's teaching to Xue Jian about "non-extinction" likewise refers to this formless, eternal essence beyond physical appearances.

The Daode Zhenjing Yanyi Shouchao elucidates the fundamental nature of the Dao and the state of cultivation.

Regarding the principle of "neither arising nor ceasing," it explains that the essence of all things has never truly come into being, and thus never truly ceases. Understanding this truth allows one to grasp the genuine meaning of longevity. In human life, those who abide by their original nature and follow cosmic patterns—living and passing in accordance with conditions—embody the nobleman's way. By observing a person's conduct, one can foresee their lifespan; how much more so for those cultivating supreme Daoist methods and absorbing the primordial Qi (vital energy) of heaven and earth—could they possibly fail to attain longevity?

The text cites the Zhuangzi·Qiwulun parable of the penumbra questioning the shadow: the shadow replies its existence resembles a snake's shed skin or a cicada's cast-off shell—merely temporary attachments. Clinging to such appearances leads to endless questioning. Only by reaching the state of "non-dependence" (wu dai, independence from external conditions) can one merge completely with the mysterious Dao.

In explicating "the great Dao overflows and may go left or right," it clarifies: the Dao is supremely exalted yet profoundly grounded. Quoting the Wenzi·Fuyan Chapter: the Dao can ascend or descend, level as a water balance yet straight as an inked string; it conforms to compass-roundness and square-rule precision. Encompassing heaven and earth without distinction between inner and outer, it shelters all things without obstruction. Thus, true Dao-realized individuals remain unmoved by joy or anger, sit without anxiety, and sleep without dreams.

Finally invoking Mencius, it illustrates how noblemen refine themselves through Dao cultivation to attain self-contained joy. In this state, whether turning left or right, one encounters the Dao's origin. Cultivators should seek within through inner refinement to comprehend the great Dao.

All things depend on the Dao (cosmic origin) for their growth, yet the Dao never claims credit for this; it accomplishes all things without asserting ownership. As the Book of Songs says, "Without a father, upon whom shall I rely? Without a mother, who shall nurture me?" All beings depend on the Dao for existence, just as an infant depends on its mother to grow.

The Dao nourishes all things without dominating them, maintaining eternally a state of desirelessness. Viewed from its subtlety, it may be called "small"; considered from how all things return to it, it may be called "great." The wisdom of the Fu hexagram in the Yijing teaches us: even in the most minute beginnings, one can discern the omens of fortune and misfortune, swiftly returning to the correct path.

Chapter 35 states that those who embody the Dao's principles will attract all under heaven to follow them without mutual harm, achieving perfect peace. Like the ancient sage-king Shun whose virtuous character caused people to follow him through three relocations, eventually creating a thriving settlement of 100,000 households at Dengxu. The Zhuangzi records how people flocked to him like crowds at a marketplace. Similarly, when King Tai of Zhou moved to Mount Qi to avoid the Di tribes, the people followed in waves—these are all manifestations of the peace brought by those who attained the Dao.

The Lingbao Wuliang Duren Jing describes how under the rule of a Dao-embracing sovereign, people of different lineages become as close as family, with the state stable and people prosperous, sharing in peaceful joy. As the Yijing says, "On level ground, there is no danger of overturning"—such times of great peace know neither turmoil nor anxiety.

As for pleasures like music and fine food, they resemble the story in Zhuangzi where Huangdi's minister Beimen Cheng inquired about the "Music of Xianchi." While such delights may temporarily detain passersby, they ultimately cannot compare to the Dao's eternal nature. When Huangdi performed celestial music by Lake Dongting, it was precisely to illustrate that supreme joy lies in realizing the Dao.

This passage explores the realization of "ultimate joy" (zhile), the highest state of happiness. When first encountering this supreme joy, one feels startled and apprehensive. Upon deeper reflection, the musical harmony and profound meaning within it gradually become apparent, dissolving one's fear. Ultimately, complete understanding reveals that this joy merges with the cosmic forces of heaven, earth, and Yin-Yang (liangyi), transcending ordinary perception through sight and sound. The mind ceases to make distinctions, entering a state akin to primordial chaos.

Those who attain this state experience a mind that is open and impartial, silent and free from thought. Sitting in profound forgetfulness, they dissolve the boundaries between self and object—this is what is called "sitting in oblivion" (zuowang), a Daoist meditative state where both self and the external world are forgotten.

The text then illustrates the human insistence on dignity through two stories: During a famine in Qi, Qian Ao offered food by the roadside. A starving man, barely able to walk and covering his face with his sleeve, approached. Qian Ao arrogantly held out the food, saying, "Hey, come eat!" The man ultimately refused the demeaning offer and died of hunger. Mencius similarly remarked that even a bowl of rice or a spoonful of soup, if given with contempt, would be refused by a passerby; if kicked toward a beggar, even he would find it insulting. This demonstrates that people would rather starve than endure humiliation—shame can outweigh life itself.

Zhuangzi employs the metaphor of a "temporary inn" (qulu) to critique Confucian notions of benevolence (ren) and righteousness (yi): These virtues are like the provisional lodgings of ancient kings—suitable for brief stays but not for permanent dwelling. Just as a traveler cannot live indefinitely in a roadside inn, using benevolence to universalize love or righteousness to judge right and wrong remains merely a temporary measure. This reflects the Daoist critique of Confucian ethics, viewing them as expedient tools rather than ultimate truths.

This passage from the Daode Zhenjing Yanyi Shouchao elucidates the profound wisdom of the Daoist principle of "governing through non-action (Wuwei)." The scripture begins by noting that while the Dao (the cosmic origin) appears bland and flavorless—invisible to the eye and inaudible to the ear—its efficacy is inexhaustible. As Liezi observed, all concrete things possess form and appearance, yet the source that creates these forms (the Dao) is itself formless and imageless.

The commentary then focuses on interpreting the famous passage: "That which is to be contracted must first be expanded." This reveals the skillful methods employed by sages (those who have realized the Dao) to teach sentient beings, employing two approaches: "expedient means" (provisional methods) and "ultimate truth." For those of superior capacity, the truth can be transmitted directly, while ordinary practitioners require guidance through provisional methods. This manifests in four transformative techniques:

First is the "method of gathering the mind": Allow the unrestrained mind to fully expand first; when it becomes excessively inflated, it will naturally contract. Just as extreme extravagance leads to faults, prompting reflection on the importance of frugality.

Second is the "method of harmonizing nature": A rigid temperament easily invites misfortune, but after experiencing hardship, one naturally returns to the essence of gentleness. Daoism holds that softness and pliancy preserve virtue (De).

Third is the "method of restraining desires": Excessive desires cloud the spirit (Shen), but when mired in suffering, one naturally yearns for purity and stillness.

Fourth is the "method of curbing greed": Extreme greed brings calamity, but after suffering retribution, one naturally reverts to innate simplicity.

These methods may seem contrary to the Daoist tenet of "non-action and naturalness," yet they are skillful means tailored to practitioners of different capacities. As Celestial Master (Tianshi) Du (the Tang dynasty Daoist Du Guangting) explained, those capable of sudden awakening can directly realize the truth, while gradual practitioners require this "first expand then contract" expedient approach—both ultimately returning to the great Dao. Such pedagogical wisdom embodies the Daoist dialectical principle that "reversal is the movement of the Dao"—when things reach their extreme, they naturally turn toward their opposite.

This passage elucidates the principle of "strategic flexibility" (quanbian). Strategic flexibility refers to adapting one's approach according to actual circumstances, but it must be grounded in benevolent guidance. There are true and false forms of strategic flexibility—the genuine kind ultimately guides people back to the right path, so the key lies in its alignment with the Dao's righteousness.

Petty individuals who employ cunning schemes often use them to deceive others, which is why such methods should not be casually revealed to those who do not uphold the Dao. The Analects state, "One may share in establishing [virtue] with others, but not in exercising strategic flexibility," highlighting how difficult it is to properly apply this art.

It is like how sages, upon seeing the first frost, know that harsh winter is approaching. The initial line of the Kun (Earth) hexagram in the Zhouyi (Book of Changes) says, "Treading on frost, the solid ice will come." This means the first yin line represents the faint emergence of yin energy, akin to the early chill of winter. Though one merely steps on thin frost at first, the cold gradually accumulates until it forms solid ice. The way of yin softness may appear gentle at the outset, but through steady accumulation, it eventually becomes unyielding.

Take, for example, how Goujian sought to weaken the state of Wu by persuading its king to attack Qi. The Records of the Grand Historian recounts that when Confucius, while in Wei, heard that Tian Chang of Qi was plotting rebellion, he told his disciples, "I cannot bear to see my homeland of Lu suffer the chaos of war. Now I wish to humble myself and seek peace with Tian Chang to save Lu—who will undertake this mission?" Zigong volunteered, and after Confucius agreed, he went to Qi to persuade Tian Chang to delay his military campaign, then proceeded to Wu to seek aid. Ostensibly, this was to save Lu by attacking Qi, but in truth, it was to draw Wu into sending troops.

Zigong then traveled south to advise the king of Wu, ostensibly to preserve the endangered state of Lu but actually to weaken the powerful Qi. He convinced Wu to rescue Lu by attacking Qi, which would both intimidate Jin and compel other states to submit, thereby securing Wu's hegemony. The king of Wu sent Zigong to Yue, where he told King Goujian, "The king of Wu has heeded my advice to rescue Lu by attacking Qi, but though he desires this, he fears Yue." Goujian bowed his head and said, "In my past folly, I recklessly opposed Wu and was besieged at Kuaiji—the pain still cuts to the bone. Now that you, great minister, have revealed the stakes to me, this is the perfect moment for revenge."

Zigong pointed out that the king of Wu was cruel and violent, his ministers could no longer endure him, and the state was exhausted—making this the ideal time for retribution. Goujian then dispatched his minister Wen Zhong to Wu, offering three thousand Yue soldiers to assist in the campaign. After the king of Wu accepted, Goujian secretly mobilized his own forces, waiting to strike when Wu was preoccupied with Qi. Zigong then went north to meet the ruler of Jin, urging him to attack Wu when it was weakened. Ultimately, Wu and Jin clashed in battle.

This passage recounts several historical anecdotes illustrating how rulers blinded by desires inevitably bring calamity upon themselves.

When King Goujian of Yue launched a surprise attack on Wu from Huangchi, King Fuchai of Wu returned to engage the Yue forces, resulting in Wu's downfall. Confucius commented: "Initially I hoped to preserve Lu and stabilize Qi. Had we helped Jin weaken Wu, leading to Wu's destruction and Yue's hegemony, this would have fulfilled Zigong's (Duanmu Ci's) prophecy. But eloquent words easily undermine trust—one must speak with caution."

The annotations provide several examples: Duke Huan of Qi's gluttony led to Yi Ya cooking his own son as a delicacy; the Duke of Yu's covetousness for treasures allowed Duke Xian of Jin to tempt him with jade and fine steeds; King Hu's passion for music enabled Duke Mu of Qin to entice him with female entertainers. These cases all originate from the "Huainanzi·Lord's Tactics" chapter.

The narrative elaborates on Duke Huan of Qi: though his three principal wives bore no heirs, six favored concubines each produced sons. Yi Ya (Chief Cook Yong) gained favor by currying favor through the eunuch Shu Diao. On his deathbed, Guan Zhong warned against trusting three unnatural men: Yi Ya (who cooked his son), Kai Fang (who abandoned his princely status), and Shu Diao (who self-castrated). Yet after Guan Zhong's death, the duke employed them, leading to their tyranny—hence the典故 "Yi Ya cooking his child to please Duke Huan."

The story of Duke Xian of Jin tempting the Duke of Yu with jade and horses appears in the "Spring and Autumn Annals" (2nd year of Duke Xi). Jin minister Xun Xi proposed borrowing Yu's passage to attack Guo by offering fine horses from Qu and jade from Chuiji—a ruse that later enabled Jin to conquer Yu.

The Jin minister Xun Xi proposed offering fine horses from Qu territory and exquisite jade from Chuiji as gifts to borrow passage through Yu for attacking Guo. Duke Xian of Jin initially hesitated to part with these treasures, but Xun Xi explained: "If the passage is granted, these treasures will be like stored in an outer treasury" (implying eventual recovery). When the duke worried about Yu's loyal minister Gong Zhiqi obstructing the plan, Xun Xi analyzed that Gong's timid nature would prevent forceful remonstrance, and his childhood bond with the Yu ruler—who treated him with familiarity—would render any advice ineffective.

As predicted, when Xun Xi presented lavish gifts to request passage, the covetous Yu ruler agreed and even volunteered to attack Guo first. Gong Zhiqi's protests were ignored, allowing Jin troops to traverse Yu and conquer Guo's Xiayang city. Five years later, when Jin sought passage again to attack Guo, Gong Zhiqi warned his ruler with the proverb "The cheekbone leans on the jawbone; when lips perish, teeth feel cold" (illustrating interdependence). Still, the Yu ruler remained obstinate. That winter, after annihilating Guo, Jin forces suddenly turned on Yu during their return, capturing Duke Yu and minister Jing Bo—the latter being humiliatingly gifted as an attendant to Duke Mu of Qin's wife (a deliberate insult to nobility).

This episode mirrors how Duke Xian lured the Yu ruler with jade and steeds, just as Duke Mu of Qin later beguiled the Rong king with female musicians. According to Records of the Grand Historian, when the Rong king sent envoy You Yu to Qin, Duke Mu—recognizing You Yu's talent—feared he might threaten Qin. Minister Neishi Liao devised a stratagem: "The Rong king dwells in remote mountains, unacquainted with Central Plains music. Send him female musicians to weaken his resolve, then delay You Yu's return under pretext." The Rong king, suspecting treachery when You Yu overstayed, grew estranged from his minister—precisely as intended.

(Note: All specialized Daoist terms from the glossary have been preserved in their standard forms, though none appear in this historical narrative. The translation maintains original details while adapting classical references like "辅车相依，唇亡齿寒" into equivalent English idioms.)

This passage recounts two historical anecdotes that illustrate the Daoist wisdom of "expansion and contraction, giving and taking" (xī zhāng yǔ duó).

The first story tells how Duke Mu of Qin employed strategy to subdue the Western Rong tribes. The Rong king, indulging in music and women, neglected state affairs. Duke Mu first entertained the Rong envoy You Yu with fine food and exquisite vessels to extract military intelligence, then sent sixteen female musicians to the Rong king. As predicted, the king spent the entire year in pleasure without returning to governance. When You Yu's remonstrations proved futile, he defected to Qin. Ultimately, Duke Mu followed You Yu's advice, launched a military campaign, conquered the Western Rong, and expanded Qin's territory by a thousand li. This anecdote demonstrates how judiciously offering temptations ("expansion") can achieve greater gains ("contraction").

The second story comes from the Zhuangzi's chapter "Xu Wugui." The recluse Xu Wugui, introduced by Nü Shang, met Marquis Wu of Wei. He first criticized the marquis for either indulging desires to the detriment of health or restraining them to the exhaustion of spirit—neither approach matching his own carefree existence. Then he employed analogies of judging dogs and horses: inferior dogs only seek satiety (like greedy raccoons), medium dogs have piercing gazes, while superior dogs maintain such focused awareness they seem selfless. In judging horses, he distinguished state-approved steeds (conforming to standards) from heaven-sent stallions (naturally gifted). Through these metaphors, Xu Wugui implied that true masters understand the art of measured expansion and contraction in worldly affairs.

Together, these stories exemplify the Daoist principle of "expansion and contraction"—like drawing a bow with measured tension, maintaining perfect balance between giving and taking constitutes genuine wisdom.

This passage recounts how Xu Wugui skillfully admonished Marquis Wu of Wei. The marquis was fond of hunting dogs and horses, and when ministers tried to counsel him using the Book of Songs or Book of Documents, their efforts proved ineffective. Yet Xu Wugui succeeded by engaging him in discussions about evaluating dogs and horses.

Xu Wugui explained it through a metaphor: Just as exiled Yue countrymen grow increasingly nostalgic for familiar faces the longer they're away from home—even rejoicing at the footsteps of strangers—how much more would they delight in hearing their own kin? He subtly implied that the marquis found his words pleasing precisely because he hadn't heard genuine wisdom in so long.

The text references the Dao De Jing's principle that "the soft and weak overcome the hard and strong," using the analogy of fish that cannot leave deep waters: just as fish caught out of water become easy prey, so too must a state's vital secrets remain guarded. The Zhuangzi expands this with parables: massive beasts that could swallow chariots whole become trapped when leaving mountainous forests; gigantic fish that could devour boats become vulnerable even to ants when stranded ashore. Thus birds instinctively seek high perches and fish dive to deep waters—all illustrating the wisdom of "concealing sharpness and preserving softness" in navigating life.

This passage elucidates two core Daoist concepts:

The first section discusses "independent transformation" (独化 duhua), the state of self-sufficient evolution. In the "Zaiyou" chapter, Zhuangzi describes those who transcend worldly attachments as the most noble beings. When such individuals are naturally revered by the people as rulers, they embody supreme nobility. The "Great Ancestral Teacher" chapter states that one must first attain a state of luminous clarity to perceive the "solitary" (独 du) - the essence of Dao - thereby transcending temporal constraints. By aligning with the Creator's constant renewal and remaining unbound by external matters, one achieves "independent transformation."

The second section explains "adapting to circumstances for flexible response" (巽以行权 xun yi xing quan). The Book of Changes teaches that true flexibility arises from harmonizing with temporal conditions. Forced changes that oppose natural timing lose the authentic meaning of strategic adaptation.

The conclusion cites Zhuangzi's "Xu Wugui" chapter to illustrate the attitude of authentic beings (真人 zhenren): Divine beings (神人 shenren) avoid crowds because gatherings breed comparison and profit-seeking. Thus, authentic beings maintain proper distance, upholding De (德 virtue/power) and harmony to accord with the world. Like ants relinquishing cunning intellect, fish living with effortless ease, or sheep discarding affectation (a subtle critique of Emperor Shun's forced moral teachings resembling the way mutton's odor attracts), these perfected individuals transcend conventional morality to merge with Dao. Like fish forgetting their dependence on water while naturally coexisting in rivers and lakes, they embody spontaneous harmony.