《道德真經廣聖義》Vol. 28

Commentary on the True Meaning of the Dao De Jing, Volume 27 (Jing 3)

Author: Du Guangting, Master Guangcheng of the Tang dynasty

Corresponding chapter: Chapter 32, “The Dao Is Ever Nameless.” The commentary on the preceding chapter explains that “fine weapons are ill-omened”; this chapter explains that when lords and kings keep to the Dao, all things come to them. It first introduces “namelessness” to clarify the Dao, then shows that keeping to the Dao can bring auspicious signs. From “when names arose” onward, it develops the idea of institutions and concludes with a metaphor. The meaning is this: weapons may be fine, but they are a calamity for the world; the uncarved block may be small, yet it is great in the world. When lords and kings can keep to it, all things take it as their source. Once the Dao’s transforming influence is at work, Heaven and Earth send down auspicious signs. There is no need to establish many teachings and commands: the people settle themselves, the ruler retains the power to govern, and all things have somewhere to turn for support. The myriad states draw near like rivers flowing into the sea. A ruler who transforms the world in this way does not rely on military strength.

The Dao Is Ever Nameless

Commentary: The Dao is constant in its functioning: it is always able to respond to things, and its responses are not all the same. Thus, even in its constancy, it has no name.

Exposition: Its functioning is inexhaustible, adapting appropriately to whatever it encounters. This is the Dao’s “constancy.” It is constant in its functioning, yet its responses are not all the same; therefore it is nameless in its constancy. That is why it is said, “The Dao is ever nameless.”

Meaning: The Dao’s function is Wuwei (non-action), through which nothing is left undone. It governs Yin-Yang, embraces and sustains all things, enables Heaven to move, and keeps Earth at peace. It reaches throughout the processes of life and transformation, and is the most all-pervading thing in the world; it is hidden and subtle, and the most profound thing in the world. Its functioning is inexhaustible, flowing everywhere without end. In the smallest things, the Dao brings life and nourishment; in Heaven and Earth, it brings forth the round and the square. The truly constant Dao is tranquil, still, and obscure, beyond naming. Once a name is established, its principle is cut off. Hence, it is “ever nameless.”

Though the Uncarved Block Is Small, None in the World Dare Make It a Subject

Commentary: The uncarved block is the wondrous source. Because this source is refined and undivided, it is called “small.” Yet its functioning brings all things to fulfillment, so it is supremely great. Thus none dare make the Dao a subject or place it below themselves.

Exposition: The uncarved block is the wondrous source. Viewed as that from which all things arise through their interconnection, it is called the “Dao”; viewed in terms of its refined unity, it is called the “uncarved block.” Because this wondrous source is refined and undivided, it is called small. Its functioning brings things to fulfillment and gives rise to everything, so it is supremely great. Thus none dare make the Dao a subject.

Meaning: Stillness at the source and Wuwei are the Dao’s true substance; hence it is called the “uncarved block.”

Completion, response, and transformation are all workings of the uncarved block. For this reason, it is called the Dao: the Dao is the uncarved block; it is the One.

There are not many Ones, but only one—the “True One.” The True One is the refined reality hidden in the dark and obscure; it is the true within the true. Since the One is not among the many methods, it is also called “small.” From this True One, all things come forth and take on their different forms. Nothing is greater than its greatness, and nothing is higher than its height—who would dare treat the Dao as a subordinate?

A subordinate stands below a ruler. The Spring and Autumn says: Heaven has ten ranks, and humanity has ten ranks; those below serve those above, while those above make offerings to the spirits. Men are called subjects, and women are called consorts. Thus a king has dukes as subjects, dukes have ministers as subjects, ministers have knights as subjects, knights have laborers as subjects, laborers have cart drivers as subjects, cart drivers have servants as subjects, servants have attendants as subjects, attendants have household servants as subjects, and household servants have slaves as subjects. Horses have grooms and cattle have herdsmen, so that every task may be attended to. All beneath Heaven is the king’s land; all who dwell within its borders are the king’s subjects. From ancient times to the present, no one has dared treat the Dao as a subordinate.

If lords and kings can hold to the Dao, all things will come of themselves and submit.

Commentary: If lords and kings can hold to the Dao, remain refined and unified, and govern through Wuwei (non-action), all things will transform of themselves and submit.

Exegesis: If kings and lords can embrace and hold to the wondrous root, remain refined and unified, and practice Wuwei and non-interference, then the borderlands in the eight directions will look up to their teaching, and people from the four seas will turn toward their benevolence. Bathed in their De (Virtue), drinking in their harmony, and following their influence, all will submit of themselves.

A king is the most exalted ruler of the four seas; a lord is the second of the five ranks of nobility. The Zhou dynasty established five ranks: duke, lord, earl, viscount, and baron. The laws established by the former kings also set five ranks among the Son of Heaven, the regional lords, ministers, senior officials, and knights; the king was included in the title of ruler. Their clothing, lands, rites, and degrees of rank were likewise divided into five grades. The king ruled all under Heaven, the regional lords each governed their own states, and ministers, senior officials, and knights served as subordinate officials, assisting the ruler. The phrase “lords and kings can hold to the Dao” refers broadly to those who possess lands and hold the highest rank. If they can hold to the Dao and thereby transform all things, then people in the borderlands of the eight directions and across the four seas will look up to their Way and De, turn toward their supreme benevolence, bathe in their abundant De, and drink in their gentle harmony; they will submit of themselves. “Borders” means the frontiers of a domain; “submit” means to obey. When foreign peoples submit to civilizing influence, this is called submission. When those beyond the distant borderlands come to attach themselves to the central realm, they are received with the rites due to guests; this is called coming into submission.

Heaven and Earth unite, and sweet dew descends.

“Signs of auspiciousness” come from the feudal lords and the king.

The meaning is this: when the feudal lords uphold the Dao in their own states and the king upholds it throughout the realm, Heaven and Earth can be brought into harmony, without calamities, baleful energies, or upheavals of misfortune. The earth lies level, the Way of Heaven is fulfilled, and the proper order is not lost. The two energies of Heaven and Earth交泰—interacting in harmony, with above and below communicating and Yin-Yang in accord—can then unite and bring down auspicious signs.

The commentary on the “Tai” hexagram in the Book of Changes says, “Heaven and Earth interact: this is Tai.” It also says, “Heaven and Earth interact, and all things communicate; above and below interact, and their aims are one.” In the Way of Heaven and Earth, Yin and Yang respond to each other, and cold and heat follow in their cycles. When the energies interact, all things come into being and transform, each finding what is fitting. When all things are properly suited and harmonious energies unite, auspicious omens descend.

Sweet dew is a fragrant, sweet liquid dew: the essence of divine beings and an auspicious blessing of benevolence and virtue. It congeals like fat and tastes as sweet as malt syrup. It is called both “sweet dew” and “Heavenly wine.” The Etiquette for the Dipper Ritual says that when a ruler governs by the virtue of Earth and the realm is at peace, sweet dew descends. The Verification of the Mandate says that when titles are bestowed and names are made correct, sweet dew descends upon bamboo and cypress. The Accord of the Scripture of Filial Piety says that when virtue reaches Heaven, sweet dew descends. Sweet dew is the energy of central harmony. The He Guan Zi says that when a sage’s virtue reaches upward to the Great Clarity, downward to the Great Tranquility, and outward to the myriad spirits, sweet dew descends and all things flourish; whoever obtains and drinks it will live eight hundred years. The Record of Astronomy says that the star Celestial Milk lies north of the Di lunar mansion and governs sweet dew; when the star shines brightly, sweet dew descends. The Lost Documents say, “The earth lies level and the work of Heaven is accomplished”: the earth is level, its transformations are brought to completion by Heaven, and what is above and below is properly matched. Ling means energies in disorder; li means baleful energy, calamity, or harm. Rui means an auspicious sign or portent. Zhi means to arrive without being summoned.

“No one commands it, yet it comes of itself in equal measure.”

Commentary: When lords and kings embrace and uphold unity of essence, the earth lies level, the work of Heaven is accomplished, and harmony comes through the interaction of Heaven and Earth. Sweet dew therefore descends and spreads everywhere, moistening orchids and weeds alike. No command is needed for it to distribute itself naturally and evenly. This is a metaphor for lords and kings measuring things fairly and giving impartially.

Exegesis: Mo means “without.” Heaven sends down sweet dew and bestows its favor without intention; people need no order for it to be distributed naturally and equally. This is like lords and kings measuring things fairly and giving without favoritism or partiality. Since they transform and nurture all alike through their generosity, people come from east and west alike—what could they think about that would keep them from submitting? Another interpretation is that when lords and kings uphold the Dao and thereby bring about auspicious signs, the people naturally become peaceful and harmonious; no burdensome commands are needed for them to become equal of their own accord.

“Meaning: Wormwood is a kind of mugwort, while orchid is a fragrant herb. ‘Nourished by dew’ means moistened and enriched. When a ruler follows the Dao to transform the people, Heaven sends auspicious signs. Once the realm is governed in accord with the Dao, people live in harmony. There is no need to issue many orders: things naturally become balanced and benefits spread everywhere.

“The Hongfan chapter of the Book of Documents says: ‘The kingly Way is level, without cliques or partiality; the kingly Way is broad, without partiality or cliques.’ When the people live in harmony, there is no crooked influence of private factions to which they attach themselves.

“‘Weigh things and distribute fairly’ comes from the image statement for the Humility hexagram in the Book of Changes: ‘The noble person takes from what is abundant to add to what is scarce, weighs things, and distributes fairly.’ What is abundant and what is scarce each receive their due; taking from the abundant to benefit the scarce is what it means to make things equitable.

“‘Transformative kindness’ means transformation through benevolence; ‘great unity’ means that all under Heaven belongs to the public.

“‘From east to west’ appears in ‘King Wen Has a Voice,’ in the Major Odes of the Kingdom section of the Book of Songs: ‘From east to west, from south to north, there was no one who did not submit.’ King Wu established the capital at Haojing and held the ritual at the Biyong ceremonial hall. Those who came from all directions to witness it were moved by his De, and none failed to turn toward him in willing submission. Here, ‘from’ means to come from or to use. When a ruler follows the Dao, Heaven sends good omens, and the people live in harmony of their own accord. From east, west, south, and north, all willingly submit. There is no need for many instructions: fairness and benefits extend evenly, just as people from every quarter gladly accepted the transformative influence of Kings Wen and Wu.

Scripture: “At the beginning, things are brought under control and receive names; once named, they are all there.”

Commentary: A ruler can bring named things under control only by first bringing peace through the Dao. Thus all things that have names also become the ruler’s possession. “All” means completely.

Explanation: “Control” means to govern; “things that have names” means the named things under Heaven; “all” means completely. When a ruler holds fast to unity and purity, Heaven sends good omens, and benevolent transformation arises without deliberate intent, bringing fairness and balance. Only then can the ruler govern the named things. Things return to one who follows the Dao; therefore all named things become the possession of the ruler.

Meaning: When a ruler follows the Dao, Heaven and Earth join in De, and good omens respond. There is no separation between those above and those below, and the four seas turn toward the ruler. The four seas are the lands governed by the ruler. When the Dao is upheld and De established, everyone is transformed. Within the realm and across all the land under Heaven, what does not belong to the ruler?

“Likewise, mountains and forests do not seek out flying birds or wolves and tigers. Yet, lush and dense, they draw them in of their own accord. Rivers and lakes do not seek out fish, turtles, and dragons. Yet, vast and deep, they draw them in of their own accord. Rulers do not seek out the named things. They uphold the Dao and establish De, and the named things come to them of their own accord.”

By cultivating De and treating people with benevolence, the myriad things that have names and forms will naturally come to submit. Cultivating oneself does not mean seeking outwardly for the Dao’s formless harmony; instead, the Dao will return of its own accord. Whether the myriad things respond and submit depends on what the ruler cultivates. Whether the world is equitable and at peace depends on what the ruler transforms. Whether goodness returns to the ruler, the Dao responds, and things follow depends on whether the ruler honors De.

“The ruler, too, should know when to stop. Knowing when to stop is how one avoids danger.”

The ruler should also understand when enough is enough. Knowing when to stop is what keeps one from falling into danger.

Note: If a ruler can govern things that have names, those things will also know to take the ruler as their place of refuge. Knowing to rely on a ruler who follows the Dao, they will avoid danger.

Commentary: “Danger” means peril. When a ruler upholds the Dao and transforms the people, the people will come of their own accord to submit, and things with names will also rely on the ruler. They can rely on a ruler who follows the Dao, and so they face no danger. This is why it says, “Knowing when to stop is how one avoids danger.”

Explanation: When a ruler’s transformation through the Dao accords with Heaven, the realm is peaceful. Within its borders, plants, animals, and all other things with names belong to the ruler. Because things rely on a realm governed by the Dao, they are not in danger of destruction. They flourish in spring and summer and wither in autumn and winter; they suffer neither natural disasters nor epidemics, neither foreign invasion nor harm from excessive punishments. Each fulfills its nature. What danger could there be? This is the Sage’s intent.

Here is another interpretation: When a ruler transforms the people through the Dao, Heaven sends auspicious signs and the people respond to his transformation, bringing equity to the world. The ruler should uphold the Dao, remain modest and unobtrusive, receive these auspicious signs with gratitude, and know when to stop, acting with caution and reverence. In this way, he will accord with Heaven’s intent and face no danger. But if he sees Heaven’s auspicious signs and binds the people’s hearts, indulges his own desires, changes his aims, and boasts of his achievements and goodness, then his arrogance will overwhelm the good fortune, placing him in danger. In the past, a large bird hatched from an egg in King Zhou’s palace. He took this as an auspicious sign that his state would flourish, then grew arrogant and indulged his desires, undertaking all manner of excesses until his kingdom was destroyed. Lao Jun feared that emperors in later generations would grow arrogant on the strength of auspicious signs, so he warned them: “Knowing when to stop is how one avoids danger.”

“The Dao in the world is like streams and valleys in relation to rivers and seas.”

Note: Heaven sends sweet dew as an auspicious sign to a ruler who follows the Dao. When such a ruler governs the world with generosity and freedom from interference, Heaven responds, just as streams and valleys connect with and flow into rivers and seas.

Plain-Language Interpretation

(Continuing from the previous passage)

The commentary summarizes here: if a lord or king can keep to the Dao, Heaven will surely respond. That is why the scripture says, “It is like…” A ruler who governs the world by the Dao and nurtures the people through benevolence and De will naturally bring peace and order. His harmonious Qi moves Heaven, and auspicious signs will answer—like the waters of valleys joining the rivers and seas and flowing together.

The meaning is this: when a lord or king keeps to the Dao, his De accords with Heaven. His good governance brings harmony and peace, and Heaven sends auspicious signs, as streams from valleys flow into the rivers and seas. This is the intent of the sage. The passage may now be explained as follows: the ruler responds upward to Heaven’s auspicious signs and wins the hearts of the people below, so that the lands in all directions submit to him. If, moved by these signs, he remains vigilant morning and night, conscientious in his duties and cautious each day, then no danger will befall him. People from distant regions will admire his benevolent influence and come to court after translating through many languages. Like streams from valleys flowing toward the sea, people near and far will turn to him, and the dynasty will flourish.

In terms of cultivating the self: Let the heart be the emperor and the organs the lords. If the heart-emperor is still and holds fast to the true Dao, then the primordial essence and Qi of Heaven and Earth enter the body and transform into jade liquid, sweet dew, and the spirits of the “Three Ones.” Drink them and let them mingle and abide with you; then inner and outer will be in harmony, without the need to trouble yourself with breathing practices or visualization and cultivation. The 31,600 spirits will each settle in their jade halls and jeweled chambers, fully arrayed and dwelling without dispersal. Then the body will suffer no danger, and life will not end prematurely. You will ascend beyond the highest heavens, unimpeded and at ease, like streams from valleys flowing into the sea.

Chapter 33: “Knowing Others Is Wisdom”

Chapter summary (commentary): The previous chapter explained that when a lord or king keeps to the Dao, the myriad things naturally come to him as guests. This chapter explains that the myriad things submit to a ruler who has the Dao because he can know himself and master himself: knowing oneself is clarity; mastering oneself is strength. The chapter ends with the admonition “die yet do not perish,” urging people not to violate the principles of Heaven.

The meaning is this: a lord or king can keep to the Dao, put its transforming influence into practice, and draw the myriad things back to their source because he has the clarity to know himself and the strength to master himself. He knows when he has enough and does not covet more, and he diligently practices the Dao. Thus the Dao accords with Heaven and Earth, and he does not stray from its constant course. He fulfills its principles and avoids a premature or wrongful end. In this way, he fully heeds the admonition and does not violate the principles of Heaven.

Scripture: Knowing others is wisdom; knowing oneself is clarity.

Commentary: The wise know things by relying on what is external. The clear perceive and discern subtle realities through illumination. Wisdom has things it does not know; clarity illuminates everything.

General Meaning of the Scripture

“Knowing” means recognizing and being aware. Cognition arises only when the mind meets an external situation. Awareness of what has come before is called “the method of knowing.”

Explanation

The mind can illuminate and examine everything, but ordinarily it comes to “know” only when it encounters a particular situation. Without a situation, cognition has no occasion to arise. Thus, ordinary people exercise their minds and use their cleverness in response to circumstances.

When circumstances and thoughts are upright, the mind and its knowing are upright too. When circumstances and thoughts are crooked or misguided, the mind and its knowing follow suit. Suffering and joy, death and life, good fortune and ill fortune, good and evil—most of these arise from the mind turning with its circumstances.

When people enter an empty house, distracting thoughts and desires are apt to arise. When they enter an ancestral temple, reverence is apt to arise. The myriad situations tug at the mind, and the mind scatters in every direction. Since good and evil both arise this way, should we not be vigilant and treat this with care?

The Book of Documents says, “Knowing people is wisdom,” calling the ability to understand others “wisdom.” For example, Duke Xuan of Song did not pass the throne to his son, but instead appointed his younger brother, who later became Duke Mu. The Spring and Autumn Annals records that in the autumn of the third year of Duke Yin, Duke Mu fell gravely ill. He summoned Kong Fu, the Grand Marshal, and charged him: “My late father did not pass the throne to his son Yiyi, but appointed me. I dare not forget this. If, through the help of the ministers, I can preserve my life and die peacefully, and my late father asks about Yiyi, what answer could I give? I ask you to enthrone Yiyi and have him govern the state. I would die without regret.” Kong Fu said, “The ministers wish to enthrone Prince Feng.” Duke Mu replied, “That will not do. My late father judged me worthy and entrusted me with governing the state. If I abandon virtue and refuse to yield the throne, I would go against his wishes. How could that be called worthy? We must do all we can to bring honor to my late father’s virtue. Do not let his accomplishments be cast aside.” He then sent his son Feng to live in Zheng, yielded the throne to Yiyi, and enthroned Duke Shang. The noble person said, “Duke Xuan of Song truly knew people. He enthroned Duke Mu, whose son later held the state. To entrust the mandate in accordance with righteousness is precisely what the Hymns of Shang means by ‘He received the mandate of Yin in full accord, and bore the hundred blessings.’ This is the utmost in knowing people.”

Further Explanation

What people commonly call wisdom is mostly a matter of being governed by circumstances and judging the good and evil in others. Turn inward instead and examine yourself: without relying on the ears, let the mind understand for itself; observe the mind without becoming attached to the “method of knowing.” To do this is to be “clear-sighted.” Thus the scripture says: “Knowing others is wisdom; knowing oneself is clarity.”

This passage explores the principles of wisdom, self-cultivation, and contentment.

Regarding wisdom, the scripture observes that people often cling to external cleverness while neglecting inner cultivation. Abandoning the innate nature of Wuwei (non-action) to pursue flashy artifice ultimately disrupts the harmony of the world. Such excessive pursuit of cunning intelligence disrupts the natural order of heaven and earth, causing even insects and birds to lose their true nature. Confucius taught Yan Hui to first "listen with the heart," then progress to "listen with Qi (vital energy)," ultimately reaching a state where one forgets cleverness and comprehends the Dao—this is what Zhuangzi called the practice of "heart fasting."

Concerning self-cultivation, the text distinguishes two types of strength: conquering others is merely external power, while conquering oneself constitutes true might. Those who can restrain their inner impulses while maintaining softness and humility achieve genuine strength. Authority that suppresses others will eventually fade, but those who master their inner selves can unite with the Dao and attain the realm of immortals.

On the subject of contentment, the scripture emphasizes that true wealth comes from inner satisfaction. Those who know contentment won't be insatiable—even coarse tea and simple meals can bring fulfillment. Persevering in cultivation while maintaining steadfast resolve constitutes true aspiration. Whether one becomes greedy or upright depends entirely on the heart; content individuals like Yan Hui find joy and ease even in poverty.

These principles converge on one core truth: genuine wisdom, strength, and abundance all originate from inner cultivation rather than external pursuits. Through restraining desires, maintaining softness, and embracing contentment, one can unite with the Dao and attain higher spiritual realms.

Guangshengyi Commentary on the True Classic of the Dao and Its Virtue

1. Contentment: Yan Hui and Yang Xiong

Yan Hui, with “a basket of rice and a ladle of water,” and Yang Xiong, with “property worth ten pieces of gold,” never lost their joy and always felt content. Those whose hearts are never satisfied would remain so even if, like Lord Shen, they monopolized profits and filled their courtyards with four-horse carriages and grand coaches. Yan Hui and Yang Xiong, then, may be called rich. Striving to do good and holding firmly to the Dao without turning back may be called overcoming oneself and becoming strong: they had the resolve to keep their integrity unchanged.

Strength lies in putting the Dao into practice. One who is powerful and follows the Dao can prevail without fighting; one who is weak and follows the Dao can gain without contention. Trust allows a person to act in accordance with the Dao and strengthen their resolve and integrity. The Book of Changes says: “The exemplary person strives without ceasing to strengthen themselves.”

“Basket of rice” comes from the Analects: “How admirable Hui was! A basket of rice and a ladle of water, living in a humble alley—others could not have borne the hardship, yet Hui never lost his joy.” The basket was a small container used for food, and the ladle for drinking. A humble alley was a narrow lane. The passage means that although Yan Hui was poor, he held to the Dao and found joy in it.

2. “One who does not lose their place endures”

Commentary: To be content, to exert oneself, and not to lose what one consistently holds to: this is to endure in the Dao.

Further explanation: Contentment and exertion are practices available to ordinary people. But to never lose what one consistently holds to is to be able to follow the Dao over the long term. Another interpretation is that acting without losing one’s proper place makes it possible to endure.

Meaning: Only by being content and free of greed, accepting poverty and finding joy in the Dao, exerting oneself toward goodness, keeping to what is constant, acting in step with the times, and finding one’s proper place can a person endure. The Book of Changes says, “One who does not maintain constancy in their Virtue may meet with shame.” This shows that people should maintain steady conduct and not lose their proper place. Losing one’s place is sure to bring misfortune, as in the case of Duan, the Grand Uncle of Zheng, also known as Gongshu Duan:

When Lady Wujiang gave birth to Duke Zhuang, the delivery was difficult, so she favored Duan. The minister Ji Zhong urged Duke Zhuang: “It would be better to make arrangements early. Don’t let his power grow until it is hard to control. Even spreading weeds are difficult to remove; how much more so a younger brother favored by the ruler?” Duke Zhuang did not listen. Later, Duan ordered the western and northern border regions to submit to him, and extended his territory as far as Linyan. He repaired the walls, gathered people, prepared armor and weapons, and assembled chariots, intending to attack Zheng. Duke Zhuang ordered Zifeng to lead three hundred chariots against the capital, Jing. Duan fled to Yan, and Duke Zhuang attacked Yan as well. In the fifth month, Duan fled to Gong, and Jing was captured.

(Duan was indulged without restraint because of his mother Wujiang’s favoritism. In the end, he lost his proper place, invited disaster, and met his downfall. His story is a negative example of “one who loses their place.”)

Note: “Lord Shen’s monopolizing profits” may refer to a figure such as Shen Hou of Zhou, who wielded power for personal gain. “Yang Xiong” is the Han dynasty scholar Yang Xiong, paired here with Yan Hui as an example of contentment in poverty. The account of Duke Zhuang of Zheng and Gongshu Duan appears in the Zuo Tradition, “First Year of Duke Yin.”

The Narrative of the Classic (Duke Zhuang of Zheng Defeats Duan)

The prince was named Wusheng, and because of this Duke Zhuang disliked him, while favoring Taishu Duan and Wu Jiang. Duan planned to attack the state of Zheng, and Wu Jiang intended to open the city gates for him. By then Duke Zhuang had defeated Duan, and he confined Wu Jiang at Chengying, swearing, “We will not meet again until we reach the Yellow Springs.” Later, Duke Zhuang regretted this. Kaoshu, an official of Yinggu, took the opportunity to remonstrate while presenting a meal, setting aside some meat for him. Duke Zhuang accepted his advice, dug down until he reached a spring, and met Wu Jiang in a tunnel. Mother and son reconciled as before. The Spring and Autumn Annals records, “The Earl of Zheng defeated Duan at Yan,” criticizing Duke Zhuang for failing to discipline his family. The point here is that he indulged Taishu’s wrongdoing, then killed him only after his crimes had become complete. This was the result of failing to deal with the matter in time and losing a proper sense of measure. Had Taishu not been deprived of the position he was meant to keep, how could he have met with such disaster?

“To die yet not perish is longevity.”

Note: “Death” is the end of one’s allotted course; “perishing” is the fate of an untimely and wrongful death; “longevity” is reaching the end of one’s lifespan. Knowing that surpassing others inevitably brings calamity, and being content and steadfast so that one’s actions accord with the constant patterns of Heaven—those who attain Heaven’s constancy die yet do not perish. They reach the end of their allotted lifespan, and this may be called longevity.

Commentary: Death is the end of one’s allotted course, perishing is the fate of an untimely and wrongful death, and longevity is reaching the end of one’s lifespan. This means yielding to what is natural and attaining constancy, without departing from the principles of Heaven: one lets oneself decline and pass away with transformation, reaching the full measure of one’s allotted lifespan. That may be called longevity. If one cannot preserve oneself through to the end, and one’s life is incomplete, then even if one has the youthful appearance of Shan Bao or the great wealth and rank of Zhang Yi, one has not reached the natural end. How could this be called longevity? Thus Zhuangzi says: “In the world, nothing lives longer than a prematurely dead child, while Pengzu died young.”

Meaning

Between Heaven and Earth, all who are born must die. Birth is the harmony entrusted by Heaven and Earth; death is yielding to Heaven and Earth. To rest in that harmony and accept that yielding is to attain constancy. Is anything contrary to this not an untimely death? The River Chart says that at birth Heaven grants a person forty-three thousand two hundred counts, with a count governing a day, and one hundred and twenty cycles, with a cycle governing a year. These are the measures of a human lifespan. Those who attain the Golden Elixir’s way of deathlessness can extend their lives beyond these measures. Those who gain no benefit from cultivation, and instead suffer loss and depletion, fall short of their measure and die an untimely, wrongful death. The Scripture of the Yellow Court says: “One may still return at one hundred and twenty years; beyond this, steadfastly keeping the Dao is truly difficult. Only await the Nine-Turn Eight-Jade Elixir.”

Plain-Language Interpretation

The sages receive Heaven’s mandate through their virtue, bring order to the myriad things, and spread the sacred Way upheld by Laozi. They transform their thoughts and let them flow outward into their conduct. What makes a sage a sage is the ability to receive Heaven’s mandate, possess virtue, and accord with the Great Way that transforms people. The World-Honored One’s transformations are not limited to just one kind. Thus the previous scroll says: “There are five particular transformations, and one that is held in reserve.” The five particular transformations are: first, guarding Qi and transforming deliberation; second, responding to things and transforming Shen; third, following change and transforming one’s form; fourth, regulating affairs in accordance with the situation; and fifth, engaging with things and transforming customs. “One that is held in reserve” means keeping to unity after the first four transformations have been accomplished. The false claim that this can endure forever is like being expansive, deviant, sluggish, or hesitant: “expansive” exaggerates its capacity to endure, while “sluggish” and “hesitant” describe delay, as though something could be kept for a long time so long as one was not simply lazy.

In “The Sign of Integrity Complete,” Zhuangzi says: “If life lies in existence, then all are rushing to meet their fate. I see him as carefree, as though he had lost his companion, deep and still as though he had lost the water.” This means that what is contracted cannot be made expansive. The passage describes his expression: he offers a bundle of rushes, knowing the other person does not want it, yet still bringing it forward. His face is so sorrowful and carefree that it is as if he has been caught in a downpour and lost his composure. Then he withdraws it, not wanting the other person to keep it, yet distressing him in this way. The passage rebukes him: “How bitter it is for a person to think that not dying means he can endure forever.”

It also says: “Your intention is sincere because of kinship: child and mother. This is sincerity at its fullest. To say that intention does not first choose what is complete is to say that sincerity is not yet sincere. To say that intention is confined to the self is to say that goodness is foremost. Thus a name is a guest of what is real.” A “guest” is the ritual historian’s place in the order of sacrifice. What is real is what is precious; at a sacrifice, the abundance of precious offerings is displayed to honor the guests.

“Straightforward misfortune” is a phrase that records and binds someone to a statement: it refers to a person whose words, as they proceed along their course, meet with hardship. Because the path of the words is direct and open, it is called “straightforward misfortune.” “Following the mouth” means attaching one statement to another: as soon as words are spoken, another follows, hence “following the mouth.” “Misfortune” refers to the way one’s speech catches and snags. The speaker then forces it through and calls it “unimpeded”; in a more extreme case, he rushes forward and calls it “astonishing.” This describes someone who pleads with painful humility, or someone who ingratiates himself with flattery, then complains when he is ignored. He entangles himself in this; “this” refers to such fine gradations. Spring plowing and autumn harvest are simply the natural order.

To “bind and record” is to press someone and force him to speak, as in the vigorous language of “The Seventh Month” in the Book of Songs: the words are pressed to their limit. “Meeting” means that if someone first agrees to speak, he agrees; if he then meets with a narrow passage, he is in distress. He has not yet completed his dealings, and feels that something is lacking. He repeats his complaint at being ignored. His intention is not fully earnest, yet he forcibly sustains his own manner and strength, which never comes to fruition. His wish to be ignored only lets him indulge his noisy, increasingly reckless talk. When someone esteems outward status too highly, the resulting humiliation is like this. Such a person may transmit appearances as a sage and act as a teacher, but if the teacher does not transform himself, he is imposing a contrived design on others, not practicing the earnest transformation of the Way.

Moreover, the text asks: “If no one can overcome a person, who can overcome him? One who is skilled at overcoming does not fight; one who fights is sure to be defeated.” Fighting turns transformation toward what is ungood, and defeat brings death to the body. If that is so, then a good person who does not engage in action cannot be said to have an unwholesome appearance either. But this view has not reached the root: it takes an existing thought and merely adds to it. Thus it is not equality.

When Confucius arrived in Wei, Music Master Jin was striking a stone chime while working in a field. Confucius was making his way through Wei, and wherever he went he came upon obstacles and reversals. Wei means a place of reversal: one may have to tread one’s own path and seek one’s own way, without expecting anyone to heed or summon one. At that time, even after being dismissed, he still cherished himself; what did that have to do with anyone else? The commentary on Music Master Jin says: “A gentleman plans but is sparing in speech”—that is, he says little. “A wise person is broadly informed but careful”—that is, cautious in his commitments. The two men, Confucius and Music Master Jin, were both sages with broad understanding, yet they were caught up in great disorder. From this one can see that ritual and law are merely devices for people’s cunning self-interest.

Thus, when Confucius lectured on ritual and music, people used wild words to mock him; when he tried to carve out a way for the age, they dismissed him with smooth talk. Those who make people strip off their coverings and reveal themselves are far from shaping their character. The crooked, bent, hunched, and twisted forms described here refer to the grim appearance of a mountain. A wall coated with lime and mud is put on display: this speaks of the many ways people adorn themselves to deceive others, relying on beauty and eccentricity to make themselves seem admirable. Even when sages cut away and cast off what is unnecessary through clear understanding, and unbind their hair and remove their ornaments to honor the spirit and reveal their true nature, outward practices that run counter to principle are still contrived and false. Thus, while trying to make their appearance beautiful, they end up looking strained and shabby.

This comparison criticizes those who work hard at outward appearances. Such people are petty, and their coming forward is no proof of true ability. The man from Mount Zhong who forced his nose into a certain shape was not naturally carved that way. A worthy ruler who lived in seclusion and never put his ambition to the test was not simply indulging himself. Huanyangzi’s way of life was not affected posturing either. A person’s outward form cannot be assumed to be abundant merely because it seems sufficient to fill it out. People compete to adorn themselves with gold, jade, and embroidered designs in order to display their worth; this is just how a sage’s imposing appearance may be accommodated, though ordinary people cannot outdo him. It is like a woman who, feeling ugly and frail, dresses richly to make herself look better. What she loves is not the right Way; she loves a way that brings humiliation.

A broad survey says: in a state of a thousand chariots, people may have enough time and strength to scratch themselves. Now, if someone examines himself and finds scratches on his head, a sage ruler may offer empty talk to the ruler of Song and bring out pottery and plaster as a model, holding them up and sticking them to his hair. In drenching rain, they break apart before he can cover himself with a rain cape. This means that even when someone is accomplished, if he does not care for simplicity in his appearance, his craft is ultimately futile. Such people are full of astonishment, yet in the end they use pottery and soil to weave a hairpiece, which cannot withstand a downpour. One cannot rely on such a person.

If one does not cultivate abundant De within, but instead seeks recognition and status through outward display, one will be burdened by Heaven and left dazed, as though drunk. Yet one who embodies humaneness can influence others through what is outwardly visible. From this comes the attempt to make people equal by setting standards and making everyone conform to a single measure. This is plainly a mistake. Nature shares its life with Heaven and Earth; this is the unity that one’s will upholds. Coming together and dispersing is the unity that reaches its end. Thus the text also says: “At the beginning, one does not know where it ends; at the end, one does not know where it began.” This is why one knows that the myriad things are one.

“Footprints” means what is near, while the point one reaches is far away. What seems close may spread out, and what is far away may shift with the age and the course of events. If footprints refer to the paths one treads, then the way one follows gradually leads farther away. The passage gives examples of phrases and names whose meanings have shifted over time, becoming distant from their original sense. It says that what is reached is near, while what is pursued to its furthest point turns distant; therefore, what is reached and what is pursued to the end should be regarded as level, with near and far extending into one another. This returns to the teaching that all things are equal and one.

If what is reached and what is pursued to the end are level, then near and far are one. This is what was said earlier: that the myriad things are one. A path may extend as far as an ox’s footprint, but when one reaches its limit, it ends; at its end, it returns to the place where it began, and what was far is once again near. A footprint and what is reached both begin nearby and stretch outward into the distance. When distance reaches its furthest limit, and the end is reached, one turns from the far back toward the near. At the point where the end is reached, things are equal and simply one. A footprint is a mark left by walking on the ground; what is reached is where one can travel and tread; the end is the point at which one’s pursuit runs out. What is reached and the end do not differ in their sequence; they are level. Far and near turn into one another and are the same on either side. This is why the text says that nature and knowledge are one. Although what has been described seems to distinguish knowing from nature, in the end they are one. The passage draws this comparison from the way footprints, what is reached, and the equality of things all return to one.

Consider this experiment: put flower seeds in a paper basket, cover them with a fine mesh, and steam them over a fire. Then pick out the sprouts and let them compete; take the sprouted grains as food and let them compete with the flowers. Even a brave person is no match for them. The text earlier said that bodies do not prevail over one another by force, and that the body of a sage can overcome ten thousand opponents. But if a person uses bravado to defeat those sprouts, the sprouts still win. Planting sprouts and beans for food, or using sprouts as bait, are all forms of contrivance. People who bind and restrain others, inflicting suffering and poisoning them, and those who compete to corner and accuse others, belong to this same category.

The narrow-minded are habitually hostile. They do not change their hurtful ways; they simply want people to trust and obey them, teaching others only so that they will listen. A fletcher makes arrows to wound people; a person who is skilled at flattering words closes his mouth to hide his deceit. This is how sages conceal themselves among guests and keep their circles closed. When people force others to accept this as genuine goodness, they are actually keeping them at a distance, lowering them and making them submit. This is a way of conquering people on the very ground where they had already been defeated. Each person must be judged according to his own nature. People like this are sure to meet with a violent end.

Confucius said: “Without warning and without foreknowledge, one may achieve something even in youth.” A person who has attained the Way has a humane heart as his basic nature. How could he respond to events without warning? Even when caught unprepared, he follows principle without hesitation; even a young person must have practiced enough to become accomplished. A person who has attained the Way responds to events in this way, in accord with truth. A sage has no intention of preparing for each event in advance; he naturally meets it in the right way. A sage attains the heart of a humane person who has realized the Way, and begins without hesitation or uncertainty. He responds without forethought, and events unfold in accord with the correct Way. Yet he has practiced before, and so finally becomes accomplished; he has not reached a state entirely without practice.

When the source of the Way is attained, there are no obstacles. The Way of Heaven is not difficult to follow: it nourishes Qi, circulates Jing and Shen, returns to the original truth, and naturally brings the whole person into harmony with Heaven. In that state, one is truly without warning or foreknowledge. Later people exhaust their bodies and damage their Qi in pursuit of longevity. Though their faces may look youthful and beautiful, they are close to death. Even if they seem at ease, they do not give up their actual practices and cultivation. If their alchemical substance has not yet congealed, they continue to strive, but their course is still misguided.

Everyone has a share allotted to them in life; some are dull-witted, and some have little abundance. A sage who attains the Way has completed his work. Zhang Yi devoted himself to external nourishment, while Bao the Leopard turned inward to refine himself; these are different ways of having or failing to have attainment. Confucius said that the former cultivated his body and longevity but ruined himself within, while Hui studied and held to one method, yet died outside and was injured within. Neither was whole in the original nature. The sages Shun, Yu, Tang, Wen, and Wu had broad Dao and generous hearts; they used authority and many means to transform people, but even their purity was partial and not wholly complete.

Later, when Zhuangzi’s “Tianxia” describes Shen Jun and others discussing the way learned men govern, it says that the five do not fit within a single square place, and that some depart from their appointed course and distance themselves from achievement. A sage does not distance himself from the past; he accepts things as they come. Before he has acted, before he has seen the myriad people, he does not leave behind a pronouncement about where the people should turn. That would be unacceptable. Therefore, one should let the Way overcome desire and keep it concealed. In truth, one should receive Heaven’s mandate above and establish transformation below. Those who are partial may be able to do several things, but a sage must refine the five transformations and complete the one, becoming pure in order to endure. One cannot preserve something for a long time by transforming only one thing. The false claims of expansiveness, deviation, sluggishness, and hesitation are all ways that cannot endure.

Zhuangzi gives the examples of Danbao and Zhang Yi, who failed to complete their natural span: one died violently, and the other ruined himself through external nourishment. This shows that, whether one’s longevity is rightly attained or not, the short-lived and the long-lived are alike in relation to the Way. Zhuangzi also gives examples of “straightforward misfortune” and “following the mouth”: speech that is labored and untrue, lacking in elegance, yet heedless of the consequences. Such excessive embellishment brings humiliation to anyone who tries to act as a sage or teacher. Even if expansive talk claims to endure, and deceptive words claim that humaneness, righteousness, and trustworthiness last forever, this does not mean that all things are equal.

When Confucius traveled in Wei, Music Master Jin criticized ritual and righteousness, while the discussion of lacquered gardens and outward forms exposed what was false. A sage who esteems external things brings humiliation upon himself; one who seeks to make people equal through outward display, without cultivating inner De, makes an unacceptable mistake.

The myriad things in life and in Heaven and Earth share a single origin. What is reached and what is pursued to the end, near and far, are equal and one. Names and words do not differ; the more they turn and develop, the clearer they become. When a distant footprint returns, the near is one with it too. One who grasps sprouts and flowers and makes them compete for food cannot prevail; one whose body accords with the Way can prevail. People who confine and restrain others through stinginess, flattery, and forceful words are sure to meet a violent end. Confucius said that practice from an early age leads to accomplishment: the heart of one who has attained the Way responds without uncertainty and accords with principle. A sage responds without forethought and acts in line with the Great Way. Though he acts without forethought, his prior practice leaves a trace of familiarity, and in the end he becomes accomplished; he has not yet reached a state of wholly natural spontaneity. Zhang Yi’s devotion to external nourishment and Hui’s holding to a single method were each limited by their allotted share. Even the completeness of Shun, Yu, Wen, and Wu was partial. The Way should overcome desire and remain concealed; one should not distance oneself from the people. The Way endures only when the five transformations are refined and the one is completed in purity. Transforming only one thing is not enough to make it last, and neither expansive falsehood, deviation, sluggishness, nor hesitation can endure.

To use death at the end of one’s natural lifespan as a rite, yet in the end make no distinctions at all—this cannot be called a rite. Then what could make the feudal lords submit? From this we can see that he would never become a hegemon. Later, just as predicted, he was defeated at Chengpu and was eventually killed by his own ministers.

In the eleventh year of Duke Xi of Lu, King Xiang of Zhou sent the court historian Nei Shi Guo to confer a royal appointment on Duke Hui of Jin. Duke Hui accepted the king’s command, but behaved improperly during the rite, failing to receive it with the reverence required by ritual. When Nei Shi Guo returned, he reported to King Xiang: “The ruler of Jin will likely leave no descendants!” The king confers an appointment, yet the recipient first destroys the rite in receiving it. What can there be to inherit? Rites are the backbone of a state, and reverence is the vehicle that carries them. Without reverence, rites cannot be carried out; when rites fail, those above and below fall into disorder. How could a ruler govern for long?

In the fourteenth year of Duke Xi, Duke Hui fought Qin at Hanyuan and was captured. He died in the twenty-third year of Duke Xi. Events unfolded just as Nei Shi Guo and Shu Zhan had foretold. This shows that a noble person can observe the conduct someone puts into practice and thereby foresee their long or short life. How much more, then, should one who cultivates the Dao to its utmost and takes in the primordial harmony be able to attain longevity?

Nei Shi Guo: A court historian of the Zhou royal house, renowned for his knowledge of ritual and his ability to predict blessings and calamities.

Duke Hui of Jin: Ruler of Jin, remembered in historical accounts for failing in ritual and virtue, and ultimately meeting ruin.

Chengpu: The site of a major battle between Jin and Chu during the Spring and Autumn period, where Duke Wen of Jin defeated Chu.

Shu Zhan: A worthy minister of Jin who foretold Duke Hui’s misfortune.