《道德真經廣聖義》Vol. 21

The True Meaning of the Dao De Jing, Expansive Commentary, Scroll Twenty, Part Nine

Composed by Du Guangting, Master Guangcheng of the Tang

Sparse Speech Is Natural, Chapter Twenty-Three

Commentary: The previous chapter explained “embracing the One as the model” and “not contending.” This chapter begins with “what is called bending and remaining whole” and explains how to accord with the Dao by forgetting words: clinging to verbal teachings runs counter to the Dao. The opening line states the central teaching and clarifies its principle. The next five lines offer examples to develop the teaching. The chapter’s meaning is then brought together through the reasoning and examples that follow.

Summary of the commentary: Verbal teachings should not be verbose; they must accord with the Dao of nature. A violent gale and torrential rain cannot last. Sparse speech gradually leads toward forgetting words. The warning against violence calls for it to cease; when violence subsides, stillness returns, and one must accord with the Dao. When trust is lacking, the people turn away and respond with distrust. If Heaven’s violent acts cannot last, how could wind and rain continue forever? Thus people are urged to forget words: speech that leads to forgetting words gradually accords with the principle of nature.

Nothing is greater than Heaven and Earth, and no authority is weightier than that of the spirits; yet even driving rain and fierce wind cannot last. A ruler who relies on rank and privilege to oppress the realm cannot follow a lasting course of trust. Why? Qin Shi Huang conquered all under Heaven and unified the Nine Provinces, treating the common people like pigs and livestock and regarding them as no more than grass. He built deep palaces and covered passageways, exalting himself and asserting his superiority. His violence and excess brought the realm to ruin before even a morning had passed. Xiang Yu thundered across the Central Plain and swallowed up the Six Directions; with no ruler above him and no rival before him, he was defeated by the Yangtze before he could turn back. The Old Master warns against such force and violence, urging people to uphold the supreme Dao of Wuwei (non-action) and nature. That is all.

Sparse Speech Is Natural

Note: Sparse speech means forgetting words. Rather than say directly “forget words,” the text says “sparse” to show that words must be used to explain the Dao and cannot be abandoned altogether. Once the Dao is understood, words can be forgotten; hence “sparse.” If one can understand the Dao through words without becoming attached to them, one accords with the principle of nature.

Commentary: This passage makes clear that one must not become attached to verbal teachings. Sparse speech means forgetting words. Words serve to reveal the principle; anyone who clings to them has not understood the teaching. The principle must be clarified through words, but forgetting them altogether would mean losing the steps that lead to understanding. So it is necessary to make this clear: use words to explain the principle, but do not forget them entirely; once the principle is understood, words can be forgotten. That is why the text says “sparse.” If one can understand and realize what is subtle through verbal teachings without becoming attached to the fish trap or rabbit snare—that is, using words as a means of passage without clinging to the words themselves—one accords with nature.

“Sparse speech accords with nature” means that the Dao expresses itself in a way that follows nature, without needless complexity or artifice.

Teaching must use words to explain principles. But if people cling to words and become rigidly attached to methods of instruction, they cannot truly understand. The key is to grasp the principle and then let go of attachment to the words. Zhuangzi used “fish traps and rabbit snares” as a metaphor: a fish trap is woven from bamboo, and a snare is used to catch rabbits. Once you have caught the fish, you can forget the trap; once you have caught the rabbit, you can forget the snare. Words express what is in the mind; once you have grasped that meaning, you need not be bound by the words. If you keep holding on to the tools, you may forget what they were meant to help you attain. If you cling to words, you cannot grasp the true purpose of the teaching.

“Whirlwinds do not last all morning; violent rain does not last all day” means that a gale cannot blow for an entire morning, and a downpour cannot continue for an entire day.

The commentary explains that violent winds and rain arrive with sudden force and can harm all things. In the same way, when people cling rigidly to a teaching, they may stray from the right path and become confused.

The subcommentary explains that a “whirlwind” is a fierce, rushing wind, while “violent rain” is intense, driving rain. Wind can scatter things, and rain can nourish all things. But when wind and rain become too fierce, they harm all things instead, and cannot last long.

The interpretive discussion develops the metaphor further. The effects of wind and rain on all things can illuminate the principles of cultivating the body, governing a state, and conveying teachings. There are several layers to this comparison. Wind can scatter things, and rain can nourish all things, but when they become violently forceful, they harm all things instead. Qi sustains the body, and the mind governs the spirit; if Qi and mind become excessively restless and forceful, they too can harm a person. Laws and orders are meant to govern the people and maintain social order. But if government is harsh and impulsive, and its laws are severe, people’s hearts will turn away and the state will fall into crisis. Words are used to clarify principles, through which teachings are conveyed. If people cling to the words and confine themselves to their literal meaning, the teaching cannot be put into practice and the Dao cannot be understood.

The subcommentary also uses this comparison to show that words and teachings serve to clarify principles. If people cling to words and become rigidly attached to teachings, they cannot gain insight through them; instead, they will lose the Dao and fall into confusion. Thus, winds and rain should not be violently forceful, and words and teachings should not become an obstacle through rigid attachment. By comparing them to wind and rain, the scripture shows that letting go of attachment to words is what allows one to accord with nature.

The final interpretive discussion says that clinging rigidly to words and teachings prevents understanding, causes people to lose the foundation of the highest Dao, and leaves them lost in the formulations of the teaching. If they understand that fish traps and rabbit snares are merely tools for reaching an end, they need not cling to them.

Whirlwind and downpour: within the confusion of a lost path, there is further confusion, yet no harm from whirlwind or downpour. Instead, the virtue of spreading and nourishing is made manifest. Who brings this about? Heaven and Earth. If even Heaven and Earth cannot sustain such force for long, how much less can a person?

Commentary: Heaven and Earth are vast beyond measure. If they were to act with sudden violence, they could not go on harming all things for long. How much less can a person, clinging to words and becoming stuck in teachings, avoid losing the Dao? Can such a person hope to attain understanding?

Exegesis: “Who” means “who is it?” The question asks, “Who brings about this whirlwind and downpour?” The answer is Heaven and Earth. Heaven and Earth are vast beyond measure, yet even they cannot sustain violent action for long. How much less can an ordinary person, clinging to words and becoming stuck in teachings, act with sudden violence? Without emptying the mind of attachment and gradually advancing toward the utmost, can one hope to attain understanding?

Meaning: Laozi wishes to clarify that whirlwinds and violent downpours do not last long. To illustrate this, he raises a question lest people fail to grasp his point, then answers it himself to make the principle clear. Heaven and Earth, vast as they are in their physical form, cannot carry on violent acts even for a whole day. A ruler who governs a great state and acts violently will surely harm the people; a cultivator of the Dao who acts violently will surely harm their practice. Such conduct is unacceptable. Yet ordinary people indulge their natures and let their minds run wild, acting with violence and impatience in government; they cling to words and become trapped in teachings as they cultivate the Dao. With no capacity to adapt and confined to a single corner, can they bring peace to the state and security to themselves? Surely they cannot.

Thus, those who follow the Dao…

Commentary: Those who follow the Dao should not cling to words or become trapped in teachings.

Exegesis: “Follow” means “to accord with.” The Dao, in its utmost emptiness, is unbounded in its function: it moves through things without ever becoming fixed or obstructed. So anyone who wishes to embody this subtlety and act in accord with it should cling to nothing. Hence the phrase, “those who follow the Dao.”

Meaning: The Great Dao is all embracing and responsive to the way things meet it. It can be realized through humility, harmony, and accord. A ruler who is rigid, forceful, and cruel acts like a whirlwind or violent downpour and thereby loses the Dao. Therefore, a ruler who holds to the Dao in governing the people follows events as they arise and responds to things as they move; the nature of all things can then be allowed to unfold without resistance. Great practice brings great blessings; small practice brings small blessings. The depth of the response depends on how a person opens to this communion, as the following passage explains.

Those who embody the Dao become one with the Dao.

Commentary: Those who embody the Dao awaken to it and forget words; thus they become one with the Dao.

The commentary says: One who follows the natural course of things and accords with the Dao (the Way) is called a “person of the Dao.” Such a person follows things as they are without becoming stuck, understands teachings without clinging to them, and can unite with the Dao. Hence the text says, “is one with the Dao.”

The explanation says: The Dao takes form in six qualities: emptiness, ease, clarity and stillness, softness and weakness, and pure simplicity. Emptiness is the dwelling place of the Dao; ease is its true nature; clarity and stillness are its bright mirror; softness and weakness are how it operates; pure simplicity is its root. Those who put these six qualities into practice are called people of the Dao. Their conduct accords with the Dao, so they follow things as they are without becoming stuck, understand teachings, and become one with the Dao.

Those with De (Virtue/Power) are one with De

The annotation says: De is the name for the Dao’s workings. When people embody the Dao and forget their attachment to merit and fame, what they do accords with the Dao’s workings.

The commentary says: De is the name for the Dao’s workings: its power extends to all things, allowing each to receive what it needs, and so it is called De. A person who has realized the Dao follows its course, and not only gains understanding themselves but also uses their merit and De to aid all living beings. Living beings receive their De, while the person themselves forgets their merit and fame. All their actions accord with the Dao’s workings; hence the text says, “Those with De are one with De.”

The explanation says: De is the Dao’s workings, so it follows the Dao in the text. “Great action” and “great good fortune” refer to walking together with the Dao, as described above. A lesser level of practice takes place in the world: its kindness reaches living beings, and its merit and De benefit the state. Though it has not attained the Dao above, it also rises beyond benevolence and righteousness, letting all things find their proper place. This is why it is called De. When De extends to other things, it comes close to the Dao. “Vast” describes something far-reaching; “living” describes a multitude gathered together. The Zhuangzi says: “Is the sky’s vast blue its true color? When seen from far away, it has shape and color; when viewed up close, it is like all things.” All things depend on the Dao to be born. Those with or without feelings, with or without awareness, moving or rooted, flying or walking—all are called living beings.

Those who have lost the Dao are one with loss

The annotation says: Clinging to teachings and getting stuck in words prevents understanding. Without understanding, one loses the Dao; hence the text says, “is one with loss.”

The commentary says: “Loss” means clinging to teachings, holding fast to words, and turning away from the Dao. Teachings are like the fish trap and rabbit snare of principle: they are tools for catching fish and rabbits. If one clings to the trap and snare, one will not catch the fish or rabbit. In the same way, clinging to teachings means losing the subtle principle.

A Plain-Language Interpretation

(Continued from above) Once one turns away from principle, there is no path to attaining the Dao; one will only fall in with loss. Hence the saying: Those who fall in with loss will find loss following them.

Explanation: The device for catching fish is called a quan (a bamboo fishing trap), and the device for catching rabbits is called a ti (a snare that catches a rabbit by its foot). When fishing, the trap encloses the fish, so it is called a quan: the name suggests preserving the fish alive and catching it. When hunting rabbits, a cord binds the animal’s foot, so the device is called a ti: the name suggests catching the rabbit by its foot. Fools do not understand that the quan and ti are merely tools. They take the tools for the fish and rabbit themselves, and are far off the mark.

Words are used to clarify principles, and teaching is used to enlighten people. The Dao cannot be realized without words, so words are borrowed to point the way; the teaching cannot be understood without instruction, so teachings are established to explain it. Fools do not understand that words and teachings are meant to help people realize the Dao. They take the words and teachings for the Dao itself, and are far off the mark. Only through the utmost emptiness and stillness can one accord with the Dao. If bound fast by words and precepts, how can one enter the true realm? In utmost emptiness, one forgets words; in utmost stillness, one forgets teachings. Do not cling to them. The scripture says, “Those who cling to it lose it.” This is what it means.

Scripture: Those who are one with the Dao are also attained by the Dao; those who are one with De are also attained by De; those who are one with loss are also attained by loss.

Commentary: A fangzhu draws up water, and a yangsui kindles fire. Like things respond to one another, and their distinct qualities can be demonstrated: the principle is the same.

Explanation: This illustrates the saying, “When Qi is alike, there is a response.” A tiger’s roar stirs the wind; a crane’s call is answered by its young. These are responses arising from shared nature and feeling. The states of Chu and Yue were as different as liver and gallbladder, yet when they share the same Dao, people from the Yi and Xia regions can be of one mind. Like things gather together; nothing escapes this rule. Thus, when one is one with the Dao, the Dao responds; when one is one with loss, loss responds.

Explanation: Through cultivating stillness, the Dao descends; through accumulating merit, De becomes full. The mutual attraction of Qi has long been understood. Pluck the note gong and gong answers; pluck the note jue and jue answers—this is resonance between sounds. A withered mulberry tree stirs the wind in the heavens; when summer rain falls, the dampness reaches the foundation stones—this is resonance between Qi. When the dragon sings, clouds rise; when the tiger roars, the wind springs up—these are responses among beings without consciousness. When a copper mountain collapses, a bell rings in answer—this is resonance between things of the same kind. When the ash in the reed pipes shifts, the halo around the moon wanes—this is resonance between events. When a crane calls, its young answer—this is resonance of nature. Good deeds accumulated bring blessings in their wake; evil deeds accumulated bring calamity in their wake—this is resonance through one’s actions. When people cross a river together in the same boat, even the Hu and Yue peoples are of one mind—this is resonance through shared circumstances. Water flows toward the damp, and fire toward the dry—this is attraction between things without consciousness. The Jing of Ascending to the West says, “Practice goodness, and good Qi arrives; practice evil, and evil Qi arrives.” It expresses the same principle.

“Evil energy, evil energy approaches, and, like ‘being aligned with loss,’ it should by rights be driven away with arrows. The liver and gallbladder are as far apart as Chu and Yue: their natures differ. The Yi and Xia are all human beings: their aspirations can be shared. The noble person shares the same customs across a thousand miles, while petty people have different customs even across an alley. This is what the saying means.”

The commentary explains: Just as the Fangzhu, when held toward the moon, gathers water, and the Yangsui, when held toward the sun, kindles fire, so the scripture says, “Those who are aligned with the Dao, the Dao also receives.”

The Fangzhu, the Yangsui, and “Resonance”

The explanation says: In the Fangzhu region of the Eastern Sea there is a kind of large clam, about one chi and two cun long, from which the name Fangzhu derives. Its shell is taken and wiped clean with soft silk. When held toward the moon, with a vessel placed beneath it, water can be collected.

The Yangsui is an implement cast from metal, shaped like a cup or mirror. Wiped clean with black silk and held toward the sun, it can kindle fire in mugwort placed below.

Both devices rely on the light of the sun and moon, producing water and fire through the resonance of like kinds of Qi. Ancient sacrificial rites required purity, and water from the Fangzhu and fire from the Yangsui were offered to the gods. If even lifeless things can respond to one another, how much more so can human beings, who possess the greatest spiritual capacity, and the Dao, which can adapt and transform? Is it not reasonable to say that they can resonate with one another? It is indeed reasonable.

“When trust is insufficient, there is distrust”

Note: To cling to words and be bound by doctrines without attaining understanding is “insufficient trust.” To identify oneself with loss, and to welcome loss as it comes, is “there is distrust.”

Commentary: People fail to realize and embody the truth, and to forget words, because their trust and understanding are insufficient, giving rise to doubt and obstruction. Once obstructed, they cling to words in search of understanding; clinging to words in this way only leads them astray. Distrust then becomes the result, which is why the text says, “there is distrust.”

The explanation says: The Dao has no form or appearance; it can be reached only through resonance grounded in sincerity. But if one speaks only of “resonance through sincerity,” people have no way to enter into understanding. So the text describes resonant responses at length to encourage them: people should learn that things resonate with one another and events bring corresponding responses, and then extend their sincerity to the Dao. If one can direct one’s heart with steadfast trust, and remain quiet, still, and joyful, would the Dao not respond? It does not respond because people in the world cannot quiet their hearts or make their aspirations calm and joyful. The wise cling to words and confine themselves to doctrine; the doubtful waver between belief and disbelief. Since their trust is insufficient, there is no resonance at all. This is what “there is distrust” means. Some people begin by practicing the Dao with intense dedication, but later grow lax; the same applies to them.

On the path of cultivation, the moment a thought of turning back arises, all the work done before it comes to nothing. One can no longer focus on diligent practice and persevere over time, and instead comes to feel that the Great Dao has deceived them. Yet if one truly understands and can put it into practice, working diligently and steadily over a long time, the mirror of mystery is not far away. How could there be no response? A ruler models his teaching of the people on the Great Dao and governs his subordinates with sincerity. He treats others with an open heart and spreads De like springtime. When the ruler above acts sincerely, there are no untrustworthy gentlemen below.

Those Who Rise on Tiptoe Do Not Stand Firm (Chapter 24)

(The previous chapter explained the principles; this chapter brings insight into “letting go of attachment and stagnation.” It also explains that those who think themselves right and boast of themselves may be hated by others. The first two lines use metaphor to show the difficulty of forcing things; the next four explain that even forceful striving cannot attain the Way. The text that follows will offer admonition and counsel, so that people of the Way do not fall into this condition. The meaning is this: above, the text discussed the Way in terms of “lack of trust” and “inadequacy,” giving rise to doubt and distrust. Here, one takes great strides in pursuit of lasting stability and rises on tiptoe in pursuit of lasting progress. Self-display, self-righteousness, self-praise, and self-conceit take one still farther from the Way. They are like leftover food and excess baggage: how could they lead to the Way of mysterious unity? Therefore, people of the Way do not dwell in this condition, and those who cultivate the true should take it as a warning.)

Scripture: Those who rise on tiptoe do not stand firm; those who take great strides do not walk well.

Commentary: To rise on tiptoe is to lift the heels and look into the distance; to take a great stride is to stretch the legs wide. These are metaphors for self-display and the pursuit of recognition: in the end, they bring no gain. How is this different from rising on tiptoe to try to stand for a long time, or taking great strides to try to walk far?

Exegesis: Rising on tiptoe means lifting the heels to look into the distance; taking a great stride means stretching the legs wide. These are metaphors. Stretching out one’s neck and lifting one’s heels to see far makes one unsteady, so one cannot stand for long. Stretching the legs wide gets in the way; when movement is hindered, one cannot walk. The same applies to people who display themselves and insist on being right. Thus, those who rise on tiptoe cannot stand firm, and those who take great strides cannot walk well. It is clear that self-display brings no clarity, and self-righteousness brings no recognition.

Meaning: To touch the ground with the toes is to rise on tiptoe. One may be able to look into the distance for a moment, but hoping to stand that way for long is difficult. Stretching out the neck and lifting the heels recalls the words of longing for the emperor’s favor in Chen Hou’s “Rhapsody on the Long Gate Palace.” Nor can one walk for long while stretching the legs wide around an object. This is a metaphor for people who cannot open their hearts and trust the truth, but instead doubt the Dao. They kindle a thought and immediately hope to achieve something, without a mind that has settled into stillness and calm.

A critique of mistaken cultivation practices

If, instead of progressing step by step in “completing one’s work without falling away, and leaving cleverness behind to preserve one’s being,” you hope to shake out your robes and travel far, or set out in a grand procession for Mount Kongtong—the place where, according to legend, the Yellow Emperor sought the Dao from Guangchengzi—you are like someone who rises onto tiptoe and strides out, yet expects to keep it up for long. This way of seeking the Dao is mistaken from the start.

Those who display themselves are not clear-sighted

Commentary: Showing off one’s talents and drawing attention to oneself invites criticism at every turn, so one cannot be called “clear-sighted.”

Explanation: Those who display themselves fail to learn from the examples of the past. They expose their talents and promote themselves in pursuit of clarity, without realizing that every move draws public criticism. With no one to support them, their work ultimately falls into obscurity. Hence the saying: “Those who display themselves are not clear-sighted.”

Interpretation: The sage’s clarity reaches in every direction and leaves nothing beyond its grasp: it extends upward to Heaven and spreads downward across the Earth, yet remains open and uncommitted, laying no claim to personal opinions. Ordinary people use their own views to obscure the light of others, displaying a little talent and boasting of a minor virtue as though this made them clear-sighted. How could they truly be so?

Those who insist they are right do not shine

Commentary: Clinging to one’s own correctness and faulting others makes one a focus of resentment; therefore, one cannot shine.

Explanation: People refuse to bend in order to preserve harmony, yet insist they are right. They also want to praise their own abilities, make standing out their aim, and seek a celebrated reputation to magnify themselves. They become a focus of resentment, intolerable to others, and are criticized more and more openly. Thus they cannot make their distinction known. Hence the saying: “Those who insist they are right do not shine.”

Interpretation: The sage cultivates the root within and restrains what is secondary without. The spirit is gathered inward, and knowledge and opinions lie quiet. The sage is detached and practices Wuwei (non-action), yet nothing is left undone; inwardly, the sage is as empty as a hollow vessel and does not assume personal correctness. Ordinary people use their own conduct to obscure the goodness of others, eagerly striving to stand out and busying themselves with self-praise. They take this for what is right. How could they shine?

Those who boast of their achievements accomplish nothing

Commentary: One who insists on taking credit for oneself is not granted it by others; therefore, one accomplishes nothing.

Explanation: Humility is the handle of Virtue; yielding is the expression of proper conduct. Without these, the Dao is difficult to follow. How much more so when someone insists on taking credit and claiming merit for themselves? Without yielding, competition for credit becomes excessive. Hence the saying: “Those who boast of their achievements accomplish nothing.”

Interpretation: The sage’s work takes Heaven as its canopy, covering everything; Earth as its carriage, carrying everything; the four seasons as its horses, putting everything to use; and Yin-Yang as its driver, providing for every need. Yet the sage follows the workings of nature and claims no credit. Ordinary people use their own excellence to cover up the abilities of others, harboring a possessive urge to claim credit within and showing no humility or willingness to yield outwardly. They take this for achievement. How could it remain intact?

Final phrase

“Spring and Autumn Xiang”—This may be a chapter title or a remnant of damaged transmission, connected to the preceding statement “Those who boast of their achievements accomplish nothing.” Its general sense is still a warning against claiming credit and competing for merit. If “Spring and Autumn” refers to a textual format or a person’s name in the original work, the reading needs to be checked against the complete text.

Modern Explanation

The Zuo Zhuan, under Duke Zhao’s twenty-ninth year, records that Qi exiled the nobleman Gao Zhi to northern Yan. The account says that Gao Zhi liked to take matters into his own hands to claim credit, and acted autocratically, thereby bringing misfortune upon himself.

During the Spring and Autumn period, Zhao Jianzi fought against Zheng. The Zheng forces knocked him from his chariot, and he even lost the army’s banner, called the Feng Banner. Gongsun Long hurried to his aid with five hundred men. At night, they attacked the Zheng army and recovered the banner, routing the enemy. After the battle, Zhao Jianzi said, “I lay over the bow case and vomited blood, while the drums never stopped. The credit today is mine.” Crown Prince Kuai Kui, who had guarded him on the right, said, “I protected my lord in the chariot and drove back the enemy on foot. The credit on the right is mine.” The charioteer You Liang said, “The two horses nearly pulled the chariot formation apart, but I managed to hold them. The credit for driving is mine.” The point is that Jianzi would not yield credit, and his subordinates each praised their own deeds in turn, so they could not work together and win as one. This illustrates why those who boast of their own achievements end up with no credit at all.

“Those who exalt themselves cannot last.”

Note: Being self-important and showing off one’s abilities are despised by others, so such people cannot endure.

Commentary: Great De seems foolish. The common teaching of the ancients is that flaunting one’s status, rank, possessions, or clothing is ugly conduct. It earns the disdain of others and invites ridicule. Those who exalt themselves in hopes of advancing instead arouse resentment. People will not support them for long, so it is said that those who exalt themselves cannot last.

Explanation: The De of the sage does not use the self to manipulate things, nor disturb harmony with desires. Without scheming, the sage succeeds; without deliberate thought, gains what is needed. In joy, the sage does not make a commotion; in sorrow, does not give way to fear. Thus, even in a high position, the sage is not in danger, and remains secure rather than falling. Yet the sage stays detached, does not cling to that position, and does not take pride in De. Ordinary people compare their shortcomings with others’ strengths, conceal their ugly conduct, and flaunt their rank and possessions, believing this will make them last. Can they really endure? “Great De seems foolish”: the Records of the Grand Historian says that a person of great De may look foolish. The Analects likewise says that Yan Hui seemed foolish all day long. These are examples of the same idea.

“Judged by the Dao, self-display, self-righteousness, boasting of one’s achievements, and self-exaltation are like leftovers and growths.”

Commentary: Leftovers are dirty scraps of food; an excrescence is a growth added to the body. Judged by the Dao, these behaviors—showing oneself off, insisting on being right, boasting of one’s achievements, and exalting one’s abilities—are like leftovers and excrescences: things everyone finds repellent.

Explanation: The four faults of self-display, self-righteousness, boasting of one’s achievements, and self-exaltation obstruct the cultivation of the Dao. Compared with things outside the body, they are like scraps left over from a meal; compared with the body itself, they are like growths and diseased flesh. They are all things that should be removed.

Note: This chapter uses the story from the Zuo Zhuan of Zhao Jianzi and his subordinates disputing credit after a battle to explain Laozi’s teaching against boasting of one’s achievements and exalting oneself. It then connects “great De seems foolish” with “leftovers and excrescences,” describing self-praise and self-exaltation as filth in the cultivation of the Dao and as things people despise. “Feng Banner” may be the name of a military banner; “You Liang” is a personal name and is retained as in the original.

Warts and tumors are both afflictions of the body. A “wart” is a growth that has clustered into a lump; a “tumor” is an excess of flesh. They are like leftover food—something everyone would find distasteful.

Explanation: The “tumorous conduct” mentioned here refers to defects of character such as showing off and thinking oneself always right—moral growths that are like tumors. That is why the scripture calls it “tumorous conduct.” The Spring and Autumn Annals records that when King Wen of Chu attacked Shen, he passed through Deng. The Marquis of Deng, ruler of the state, said, “He is my nephew,” and invited him to a meal, treating him as a guest. The marquis’s three nephews—Zhui Sheng, Dan Sheng, and Yang Sheng—urged him to kill the king of Chu, but the marquis refused. The three said, “This man will surely bring about the fall of Deng. If we do not act now, we will later regret it as bitterly as someone who has been bitten in the navel. Can we still make plans then? Now is the time.” The marquis replied, “People would refuse to eat my leftovers.” He meant that if he harmed his own nephew, people would look down on him. The three answered, “If you do not heed us, the altars of state may never again receive sacrifices. How, then, could a ruler still have any ‘leftovers’ to eat?” The marquis did not listen. After returning from his campaign against Shen, the king of Chu attacked Deng. He attacked again in the sixteenth year and destroyed the state—the event recorded in the Spring and Autumn Annals under Duke Zhuang’s sixteenth year.

“Appended tumors and hanging warts” comes from an outer chapter of the Zhuangzi. Appended tumors and hanging warts grow from the body, yet are excessive in relation to its nature. The point is that a thing is not in excess because it grows, nor deficient because it is short; joined fingers and tumors arise from one’s physical nature and are not added from outside. What seems “too much” to ordinary people is called “excess.”

Scripture: “All things may loathe them; therefore, those who have the Dao do not dwell in them.”

Commentary: When judged by the Dao, conduct such as showing off is like leftover food or tumorous behavior. Since all things may loathe it, those who have the Dao do not place themselves in such conduct.

Explanation: Showing off, thinking oneself always right, and similar behaviors are like leftovers and tumors. Since all things loathe them and do not engage in them, the virtuous person who has the Dao also keeps from becoming entangled in them.

Meaning: Accumulating benevolence builds De; practicing goodness forms conduct. Those who follow the Dao cultivate their practice and accumulate De. Once their realization is complete, they must then forget these things, in order to accord with the Great Pervasion and return to nonbeing. How much worse, then, are these four faults—self-display, self-righteousness, self-praise, and self-conceit—than appended tumors and leftover food?

Background: This passage corresponds to Chapter 24 of the Dao De Jing: “Those who display themselves are not clear; those who assert themselves are not distinguished … In terms of the Dao, they are called ‘leftover food and tumorous conduct.’” Treating one’s De and conduct as something excessive to be displayed in the Dao is like leftover food and extra flesh on the body, both of which people loathe. Those who truly practice the Dao therefore “do not dwell” in this state of mind or conduct.

How could anyone feel at ease living with these four faults? If used in self-cultivation, they undermine De (Virtue) and damage one’s nature. If used in governing a state, they lead rulers to reject advice and think themselves infallible, disrupting government and harming the people. These are the very roots of ruin. How could such faults be compared with trifles like leftover rice, a wart, or a hair’s breadth?