《道德真經廣聖義》Vol. 13

The Broad Commentary on the True Scripture of the Dao and Its Virtue, Scroll Twelve (in the same scroll as Scroll Thirteen)

By Du Guangting, Master Guangcheng of the Tang

Chapter Twelve: The Five Colors Blind the Eyes

(A commentary on the previous chapter’s “benefit through what is useful and what is not”; this chapter discusses being tainted by the world and pursuing external things.)

The previous chapter explains how “benefit” and what is “useful” or “not useful” complement one another and bring things to completion. This chapter shows that indulging in external things and chasing sights, sounds, and flavors will throw the mind and spirit into disorder. It first warns against colors, sounds, and flavors, explaining that excess turns them harmful. It then speaks of hunting and hoarding goods, making clear that the pursuit of desire burns away the Qi of inner balance. The sage’s way of choosing and rejecting lies in preserving one’s true nature and safeguarding the essentials of one’s inherent nature.

Xi says: The previous chapter explains benefit and what is useful or not useful; this chapter warns against using them to excess. Colors and sounds can nourish the eyes and ears, but excess blinds the eyes and deafens the ears. The five flavors can nourish the body, but excess brings illness. How much more harmful are hunting at a gallop and coveting wealth—yet people cannot give them up. Such is the extent of their confusion. The Old Master points out this principle so that people may diminish their greed for external things and turn inward, making this the essential way to govern the country and cultivate the body.

Scripture: The five colors blind the eyes; the five sounds deafen the ears; the five flavors dull the mouth.

Commentary: Fixing the gaze on colors such as blue-green and yellow, letting the ears become absorbed in sounds such as gong and zhi, and craving the flavors of meat and grain—when these exceed due measure, they damage the body and impair hearing and sight.

Explanatory commentary: The “five colors” are blue-green, yellow, white, red, and black; the “five sounds” are gong, shang, jue, zhi, and yu; the “five flavors” are sweet, bitter, sour, salty, and pungent. “Dull” means to go astray or lose one’s sense of taste. Looking at colors, listening to sounds, and discerning flavors will inevitably cause harm when done to excess. Thus the passage speaks of the body becoming blind and deaf, and the mouth losing its taste.

Commentary on the meaning: As for the five sounds, according to Liu Xiang of the Han dynasty, gong means “center” and symbolizes the virtue of the ruler; shang means “pattern,” for the myriad things have patterns; jue means “sprout,” for the myriad things begin to emerge; zhi means “blessing,” for the myriad things flourish in abundance and receive blessings; and yu means “gather,” for the myriad things gather and are stored away. As for the five colors, according to Wang Shushi, lustrous white silk turns blue-green when dyed with indigo, red when dyed with cinnabar, yellow when dyed with yellow dye, and black when dyed with black dye. Together these make the five colors. When the eyes can no longer see the five colors, this is called blindness.

The five colors were originally meant to display the symbols of the Five Phases and to distinguish rank in dress. If one is lost in them and clings without letting go, is that not like being blind? Ears that cannot hear the five sounds are called deaf.

The five tones were originally meant to communicate the qi of Heaven and Earth and to express the sounds of the Five Phases. If one only listens for pleasure and sinks into them, is that not like being deaf? A mouth that cannot taste the five flavors is called shuang—here meaning a disorder of taste.

The five flavors were originally meant to embody the harmony of the Five Phases and to nourish the person. If one craves fine food and is addicted to it, is that not like a disorder of taste?

Yao Xin’s Shi Wei says: “When the five tones are complete, the licentious music of Zheng and Wei rises; when the five colors are full, splendid silks appear.” When such things exceed moderation, inwardly they harm the body and bring illness; if indulgence does not stop, outwardly they damage de (virtue). Even if sight and hearing are not literally ruined and eating is not abandoned, clinging without change is no different from being ill.

The judgment of the Yi Jing’s Yi hexagram says: “Be careful in speech and moderate in eating.” This too warns people to restrain desire. In the Chunqiu, Fuchen remonstrated with King Xiang of Zhou: “Ears that cannot hear the harmony of the five sounds are called deaf; eyes that cannot tell the pattern of the five colors are called mei. Mei means blind.” If one who governs the state clings to one extreme, the people are blocked and grievances pile into disaster; if one who cultivates the body clings to one extreme, qi stagnates and knots, inviting disease. All of this must be guarded against.

The commentary adds: How much more so the sights and sounds and other things in the world that people sink into. If they do not understand that the nature of sound and color is empty, they are not only deaf and blind in body but also deaf and blind in wisdom.

The explication of meaning says: When the eyes are infatuated with gorgeous color, the ears drunk on the sounds of Zheng and Wei, and the mouth greedy for rare and delicious flavors, the heart is bound by fixation and cannot penetrate; gradually one indulges and forgets to turn back. At its worst one forgets the order of the four seasons of Heaven and Earth; next one violates the norms of rank and ritual and music; at the least one stirs invasion, resentment, and strife. Whether governing a state or ordering a household, order is lost because of this. From antiquity, many have ruined state and family through craving beauty and music—not only Moxi, Daji, Baosi, and Liji. Greed for fine food has also sparked disputes and even brought calamity.

The so-called “calamity of the mutton soup” appears in Chunqiu: In the second year of Duke Xuan of Lu, the prince of Zheng, Guisheng, attacked Song on the king of Chu’s orders. Hua Yuan and Yue Ju of Song led troops to resist. Before battle, Hua Yuan slaughtered a sheep to reward the soldiers but gave none to his charioteer Yang Zhan. When battle came, Yang Zhan said: “Yesterday dividing the mutton soup, you were master; today in battle, I am master.” He drove straight into the Zheng army and Song was badly defeated.

Expansive Commentary on the True Classic of the Dao and De

Scripture

Huayuan was captured. The enemy seized Leju and four hundred and sixty chariots, took two hundred and fifty prisoners, and cut off the ears of a hundred men. Song sent a hundred military chariots and four hundred teams of richly adorned horses to Zheng to ransom Huayuan. After half the ransom had been handed over, Huayuan escaped. He returned to the camp and waited outside the feathered tent, reporting his arrival before entering. When he saw Yang Zhen, he said, “Your horses must have run fast.” Yang Zhen replied, “It wasn’t the horses. It was the man.” After saying this, Shuxiang—Yang Zhen’s courtesy name—fled to Lu.

A gentleman judged Yang Zhen to be no decent man: for the sake of a private grudge, he brought ruin upon his state and death upon its people. What crime could be greater? The Lesser Odes says, “A man without goodness”—surely this refers to Yang Zhen, who harmed the people to vent his spite.

The One Who Dipped His Finger into the Cauldron

(Recorded in the fourth year of Duke Xuan.) The people of Chu presented a soft-shelled turtle to Duke Ling of Zheng, the son of Duke Mu, whose name was Yi. The nobles Zigong, whose name was Zong, and Zijia, whose name was Guisheng, were about to go in to see the duke. Zigong’s index finger—the second finger—began to twitch. He showed it to Zijia and said, “Whenever this happens to me, I’m sure to taste something unusual.” When they entered, the cook was about to prepare the turtle. The two men looked at each other and laughed. The duke asked what they were laughing about, and Zijia told him. When the turtle was served to the nobles, the duke summoned Zigong but gave him none. In anger, Zigong dipped his finger into the cauldron and tasted the broth before leaving. The duke was furious and wanted to kill him. Zigong and Zijia plotted together to strike first. Zijia said, “We hesitate to kill even old livestock. How much more should we hesitate to kill our ruler?” Zigong then slandered Zijia, who was afraid and went along with him. In summer, they assassinated Duke Ling. The Spring and Autumn Annals records: “The Zheng nobleman Guisheng assassinated his ruler, Yi.” Zijia lacked the power to resist Zigong. Afraid of being slandered, he joined in the assassination, so the history records his name first to mark his guilt. A gentleman said, “Goodness without courage cannot bring a person to fulfillment.” Zijia’s initial reluctance to kill the old animal showed kindness, but his failure to punish Zigong showed a lack of courage. Unable to uphold the way of goodness himself, he became implicated in the killing of his ruler. In truth, the calamity began when Zigong dipped his finger into the cauldron.

Again, those who become attached to the sounds of metal and stone cannot hear the sound without sound; those who delight in black and yellow forms cannot see what has no color; and those who crave sweet and pungent flavors cannot know what has no taste. They lose the true Dao and bring death upon themselves.

Plain-Language Interpretation

1. How Yang Zhen Brought Ruin upon His State

The Zheng captured the Song general Huayuan, seized Leju and four hundred and sixty chariots, took two hundred and fifty prisoners, and cut off the ears of a hundred men. Song sent a hundred military chariots and four hundred richly adorned horses to Zheng to ransom Huayuan. After half the ransom had been delivered, Huayuan seized the chance to escape. He returned to the camp, waited outside the feathered tent, and reported his arrival before going in. When he saw Yang Zhen, he said, “Your horses must have run fast.” Yang Zhen answered, “It wasn’t the horses. It was the man.” After saying this, Shuxiang, Yang Zhen’s courtesy name, fled to Lu.

A gentleman judged Yang Zhen to be a bad man because he had damaged his country and harmed its people over a personal grievance. What could be a greater crime? The Book of Songs, in the Lesser Odes, says, “A man without goodness.” This describes someone like Yang Zhen, who harmed the people to vent his private anger.

2. How Dipping a Finger Led to a Ruler’s Death

The Zuo Commentary, in its account of the fourth year of Duke Xuan, tells how the people of Chu presented a large soft-shelled turtle to Duke Ling of Zheng, the son of Duke Mu, whose name was Yi. The nobles Zigong, whose name was Zong, and Zijia, whose name was Guisheng, were about to enter the palace to see the duke. Zigong’s index finger—the second finger—began to twitch. He showed it to Zijia and said, “When my finger does this, I’m sure to taste something delicious.”

After they entered, the cook was about to prepare the turtle. The two men looked at each other and laughed. Duke Ling asked why they were laughing, and Zijia explained. When the turtle was shared among the nobles, the duke summoned Zigong but gave him none. Enraged, Zigong dipped his finger into the cauldron, tasted the broth, and left. The duke was furious and wanted to kill him. Zigong and Zijia plotted together to strike first. Zijia said, “We hesitate to kill even old livestock. How much more should we hesitate to kill our ruler?” Zigong then slandered Zijia, who was afraid and joined the plot. That summer, they assassinated Duke Ling.

The Spring and Autumn Annals records, “The Zheng nobleman Guisheng assassinated his ruler, Yi.” Zijia did not have enough power to resist Zigong. Afraid of being slandered, he went along with the assassination, so the history places his name first to indicate his guilt.

A gentleman said, “Kindness without courage cannot lead to fulfillment.” At first, Zijia’s reluctance to kill an old animal showed kindness. But by failing to punish Zigong, he showed a lack of courage. He could not uphold the way of goodness and became implicated in the killing of his ruler. In truth, the trouble began when Zigong dipped his finger into the cauldron.

3. A Warning for Cultivating the Dao

Those who become absorbed in the sounds of metal and stone cannot hear the sound without sound. Those who are captivated by black and yellow colors cannot see what has no color. Those who crave sweet and pungent tastes cannot know what has no taste. They lose the true Dao and bring death upon themselves.

The Main Ideas of the Scripture

This passage uses two historical stories to explain principles of governing a state and cultivating the Dao. Yang Zhen’s private grudge harmed his country, warning those in government not to let personal interests override public duty. Zigong’s resentment over a single meal led to the killing of a ruler, showing how a minor grievance can grow into a great calamity. Zijia had kindness but lacked courage, so he failed to stop Zigong and became implicated; the passage suggests that kindness must be joined with courage to reach its full expression. Finally, it warns that those who become absorbed in sensory pleasures cannot understand the Dao’s truth, which is formless, soundless, and tasteless, and thereby bring ruin upon themselves.

General Meaning of the Scripture

Original: All day, the heart contends with its surroundings and rushes after circumstances. Reflect on this in stillness: it is a kind of madness.

Modern explanation: The heart spends all day struggling against the world around it and racing after one circumstance after another. Once you become still and think it over, you see that this is a state in which the mind and spirit have lost control, almost like madness.

Commentary: This describes people who are consumed by sights and sounds. Their desire runs wild, like a hunter intent only on killing and capturing prey. The more their desire burns, the more they chase after the world around them. Seen in stillness, this is a madness of the heart.

Further explanation: Hunting was a proper state ritual, but it was ritual only when done at the right time. To hunt out of season or become consumed by hunting was disorder. The same is true of the human body: when its limbs and members bend, stretch, move, and rest in due measure, they accord with ritual; when they go too far, they become wild.

Ritual context: The Son of Heaven and the feudal lords held three hunts each year. One supplied dried meat for offerings to the ancestral temple; another provided hospitality for guests and fostered friendly relations between states; the third stocked the ruler’s kitchen and supplied food in season. Failing to hunt when it was required was disrespectful; hunting when it was forbidden was violent. Thus spring hunts, summer hunts, autumn hunts, and winter hunts were held during slack periods in the agricultural calendar, to train in military affairs. Before otters had made their offering of fish, nets were not cast in the rivers; before jackals had made their offering of beasts, traps were not set in the fields; before eagles and falcons had struck their prey, snares were not laid in the woods. These rules cultivated the ritual of offering game and displayed the benevolence of the three drives, in keeping with Heaven’s seasons. In the second month of spring, the Son of Heaven taught the troops to maneuver before the summer hunt; in the second month of summer, he taught the summer hunt before the spring hunt; in the second month of autumn, he taught military discipline before the autumn hunt; and in the second month of winter, he held a grand review before the winter hunt. The Grand Marshal oversaw these affairs, while the officers of the mountains and marshes supplied what was needed. These practices trained the military and showed the people how to follow the seasons.

The opposite: Those who ignored the established precedents, indulged excessively in hunting, harmed creatures out of season, stayed away for ten days, and hunted without stopping would become wild, provoke resentment among the people, and endanger the state. Violating ritual brings disaster. How much more, then, does the heart become wild when it races after the world outside, grows consumed by sights and sounds, and damages the spirit and Qi within?

“Rare goods make people’s conduct go astray.”

Note: Things absent from one’s inborn allotment cannot be obtained by force. Coveting rare goods obstructs cultivation and damages one’s progress on the Dao.

Commentary: “Rare goods” refers to a person’s innate capacities and endowments: their abilities, implements, form, and constitution. What is absent from one’s inborn allotment cannot be gained by seeking it. To reject one’s proper place and pursue desires that distort one’s nature is to violate the natural measure, and so obstructs progress on the Dao.

Further explanation: Abilities and implements are goods within one’s inborn allotment; pearls and precious objects are goods of the world.

On “Goods” and Greed

“Goods” refers to external things that do not belong to one’s original nature. Once pretence and theft become habitual, they harm the body and diminish De. Pearls and precious treasures are hard to obtain; coveting them brings disgrace to the body and damages one’s reputation. Each person should keep to their proper place and follow what is natural. If a ruler covets rare treasures, the people will be filled with resentment and suffer injury. If a person cultivating themselves covets rare treasures, they will act improperly and suffer humiliation. All of this departs from the “Heavenly Boundary.”

The Heavenly Boundary

The “Heavenly Boundary” means one’s natural place and the distinctions that arise from nature. Zhuangzi says that when beginning and end form a circle with no discernible start or finish, this is called “Heavenly Balance”; “Heavenly Balance” is the “Heavenly Boundary.” All things are equal in their original nature, so how could there be deliberate action? Everything follows from the distinctions made by nature.

“Therefore, the sage is for the belly, not for the eye”

Explanation: The belly can receive and contain without making arbitrary distinctions; the eye looks heedlessly and becomes attached to the dust of sensory forms. By making no distinctions, one preserves the great harmony—hence “is for the belly.” Attachment to the dust of sensory forms harms one’s nature—hence “is not for the eye.”

Commentary: The sage does not act for the eye because heedless seeing and looking become attached to the dust of sensory forms, harm one’s nature, and disrupt harmony. The sage does not do this. To act for the belly is to cherish simplicity and hold fast to sincerity, to partake of primordial harmony and keep flavors plain. In this way one can attain the Dao and transform the people. Why, then, does the sage “act for the belly”? Because the eye governs sight, the sage establishes rules to guide it: ritual codes to restrain conduct; lowering one’s gaze when entering a doorway; when riding in a carriage, looking ahead at the five landmarks, then at the horse’s tail when bowing; and turning one’s head no farther than the carriage wheel hub. One does not point or look heedlessly. This is caution and reverence. Without reverence and care, governing a state harms its administration, while cultivating oneself harms one’s nature. That is why the sage does not act for the eye.

The dust of sensory forms: What has visible form is called “form”; what stains but cannot be seen is called “dust.” Dust is subtle, while form is coarse, and both hinder cultivation. Those who cultivate the Dao first remove form, so that Shen shines within; then they remove dust, extinguishing the mind and forgetting external things. What stains the mind and clings to thought is called dust. The Six Dusts arise from the Six Sense Faculties. Even after cleansing oneself of the six coarse dusts, the six subtle dusts remain; after cleansing oneself of those, the six light dusts remain. Only after cleansing oneself of the six light dusts does one accord with the Dao: seeing without color, hearing without sound, tasting without flavor, entering without form, and understanding Wuwei. This is called realizing the fruit of the Dao.

“Therefore, let go of that and choose this”

Note: Choose the belly that receives and contains; let go of the eye that looks heedlessly.

A Plain-Language Interpretation

The commentary explains: The eyes look around restlessly and gaze with desire, so the “eye” is to be cast aside. The belly merely receives and holds, without craving, so the “belly” is to be chosen. A further explanation says: The belly can receive things without stirring desire, so it is to be chosen; the eyes encounter external things and readily give rise to desire, so they are to be rejected.

A ruler’s heart should be grounded in wisdom and sagely clarity; the way of governing should rest on quietude and few desires. If one pursues wild beasts and hunts across desolate plains, races chariots and horses along sheer cliffs, drives the Six Dragons at full speed with ten thousand riders struggling to keep up, vies with falcons and eagles and tests one’s strength against bears, darkens the sun and moon with a swirl of banners, hunts without remembering to return and kills without restraint, while storms come often and palaces sometimes stand empty—this is called “madness.”

If one also prizes distant products and covets useless territory, craves the pepper paste of Shu and sends troops against the western tribes, or attacks Dayuan in pursuit of famed horses, then the passes are haunted by souls who die far from home and never return, while border towns are haunted by the wronged spirits of those left bereft. People flee across the realm, household registers dwindle, and the ancestral temples and state altars nearly fall into enemy hands. These events are all recorded in the histories as warnings for a hundred generations. Why not “cast aside that and choose this,” and follow the clear admonition of the Old Master (Laozi)?