《道德真經廣聖義》Vol. 8

Chapter Two: All Under Heaven Know

Tang dynasty, narrated by Master Guangcheng, Du Guangting

Commentary: The preceding chapter explained how the wondrous source gives rise to transformations, and how the two ways of seeing enter into being.

This chapter explains how the uncarved simplicity disperses into different names. Because the myriad things differ, people pursue external circumstances; pursuing them leads to wandering, while skillful transformation leads back to the root. The chapter therefore begins by identifying the deluded feelings attached to beauty and goodness, then shows how notions of being and nonbeing overturn one another, and concludes with the principle of the sage, in the hope of revealing how to return swiftly to simplicity.

Meaning: The many paths stretch on without end, and living beings stir restlessly. They encounter circumstances, give rise to feelings, and move ever farther from the Dao. The sage pities them for forgetting the way back and opens this wondrous gate. The preceding chapter clarified the difference between the two ways of seeing and how nonbeing enters into being; this chapter points to six delusions that arise as things contend with and overturn one another. If people can recognize the error of pursuing circumstances and avoid being swept along by change, then one may begin to speak of the gradual practice of emptying the mind and filling the belly.

The Scripture

“All under heaven know that beauty is beauty; thus ugliness arises. All know that goodness is goodness; thus badness arises.”

Note

Beauty and goodness arise from the desirous mind. When the mind desires something, even what is ugly may seem beautiful, and what is not good may seem good. Hence the text says, “All know that what they themselves find beautiful is beauty, and what they themselves regard as good is goodness.” Beauty and goodness have no fixed standard; both are deluded feelings. They arise from distinctions and attachments to being and nonbeing, from judgments about difficulty and ease, and from setting the numinous against the putrid in contests for advantage. The Great Sage weighs these matters and sees deeply into their emptiness, hence the words “ugliness arises” and “badness arises.”

Commentary

“All under heaven” is a general expression for everything beneath the canopy of Heaven.

“Beauty” means what the mind finds pleasing. “Goodness” means what a person puts into practice. The text says that people everywhere know as beautiful what pleases their own minds, and as good what they themselves do. Thus, those who favor sweetness reject bitterness, and those who love cinnabar scorn plain white. They contend with one another and compete over right and wrong. All this is stirred up by desire, and so beauty and ugliness arise in turn. The sage knows that beauty and ugliness have no fixed standard, and that both are deluded feelings. What is deluded cannot endure; hence the words “ugliness arises.” Here, “arises” is a particle used to complete the expression.

The reference to the numinous and the putrid comes from the Zhuangzi, which says that what one finds beautiful is called numinous and marvelous, while what one detests is called putrid and rotten.

Meaning

Those who know the Dao are few, while ordinary people are many. Few know how to cultivate themselves; many pursue external things. Everyone knows that beauty and goodness are desirable, yet few can return to the root. Beauty and ugliness, goodness and badness arise in relation to one another: when people cling to beauty, ugliness appears; when they cling to goodness, badness appears, like a shadow following a body. The sage teaches this so that people may realize that beauty and goodness have no true substance and arise only from deluded feelings. They must not be turned by external circumstances; only then can they return to emptiness and stillness.

People know what is unkind and what is evil, yet they cannot change their ways. The sages lament this. That is why the Jing says, “Evil is done; unkindness is done.” To cherish benevolence, hold to righteousness within, embrace the Dao, and remain humble; to be loyal to one’s ruler, filial to one’s parents, loving toward one’s siblings, and affectionate toward one’s kin—these are all good and worthy actions. Everyone understands this, yet fails to put it into practice. The opposite actions are unkind, and people know that just as well, yet cannot change. How much harder, then, to cultivate the Dao of Wuwei (non-action)? This is why the sages lament.

“Delusion” means what is unreal and not ultimate. When thoughts arise in response to external circumstances, feelings and intentions are stirred by things outside oneself, and one cannot keep to the Dao or follow what is constant, this is called delusion.

“Wondrous” and “putrid” come from the “Journey to the North” chapter of the Zhuangzi. The Yellow Emperor tells Zhi that all things are originally one. What people regard as beautiful, they call wondrous; what they abhor, they call putrid. Yet the putrid can become wondrous, and the wondrous can become putrid. Thus, all under Heaven is a single Qi (vital energy) in continuous flow. What the sage values is “the One.” Here, “wondrous” and “putrid” illustrate how things each have their own partial character. The teachings of the various schools and the many currents of thought differ; each clings to its own right and wrong, praising some and criticizing others. Those who cultivate themselves or govern the state can let things follow their natural course through Wuwei, and use “the One” to unite them. Then the putrid and the wondrous are no different in essence.

That is why it is said, “Being and nonbeing give rise to one another.”

Commentary: This explains that the nature of being and nonbeing is empty and still. Being does not exist by itself; it exists because of nonbeing. Ordinary people, however, suppose that nonbeing gives rise to being. Nonbeing, too, does not exist by itself; it exists because of being. Ordinary people suppose that being gives rise to nonbeing. Hence the saying that they give rise to one another. Yet being and nonbeing are relative concepts, and in their essential nature they do not give rise to one another. The term “giving rise to one another” actually comes from deluded attachment. Beauty and ugliness, too, do not exist inherently; all things are empty. The sage seeks to rescue people from confusion and stagnation, and so speaks repeatedly of these six delusions.

The meaning is this: Laozi laments those who habitually rely on worldly views, lose themselves in the proper Dao, create deluded attachments, and become trapped in illusory feelings. He explains this principle to break their attachments. “Attachment” means clinging and holding fast. Those attached to being reject nonbeing; those attached to nonbeing reject being. Those attached to difficulty reject ease; those attached to ease reject difficulty. Those attached to shortness reject length; those attached to length reject shortness. Those attached to height reject what is low; those attached to what is low reject height. Those attached to what comes after reject what came before; those attached to what came before reject what comes after. With these attachments, one cannot reach the ultimate. The Jing says, “Those who cling will lose it.” If one does not cling to one side and hold fast to it, one naturally accords with the Middle Way and can enter the gate of profound, correct insight.

Difficulty and ease, too, complete and define one another.

The Emptiness of Difficulty and Ease

Commentary

This passage explains that “difficult” and “easy” are empty in principle. Difficulty makes ease apparent, and ease makes difficulty apparent. A carpenter may find wood easy to work with and clay difficult, while a potter finds clay easy and wood difficult. Thus difficulty and ease exist only in relation to one another. If everything everyone considers difficult were simply grouped together as “difficult,” there would be no “easy”; and if everything everyone considers easy were grouped together as “easy,” there would be no “difficult.” Difficulty and ease have no fixed substance: they are merely names people impose. This is what is meant by the emptiness of phenomena. Those who awaken to this can also let go of the distinction between skill and clumsiness; the concepts of difficulty and ease then fall away, just as beauty and ugliness have no fixed standard.

Explanation

Difficulty often becomes apparent in relation to ease; without ease, one could not know what is difficult. Ease, in turn, becomes apparent in relation to difficulty; without difficulty, one could not recognize what is easy. The two continually depend on each other and are intertwined. If one observes closely, without clinging to what is difficult or becoming attached to what is easy, one can speak of “seeing all things as equal,” which accords with the Middle Way.

“Craftsman” refers to a skilled artisan; “potter” refers to someone who makes vessels from clay. Each finds their own specialty easy and a different craft difficult.

How Long and Short Take Shape in Relation to Each Other

Commentary

This passage explains that the concepts of “long” and “short” are empty. Long makes short apparent, and short makes long apparent; hence the saying that long and short take shape in relation to each other. A wild duck’s legs are not short in themselves; they only seem short beside a crane’s long legs. To lengthen the duck’s legs would merely cause needless distress. A crane’s legs are not long in themselves; they only seem long beside a duck’s short legs. To shorten the crane’s legs would merely cause needless sorrow. Long and short, then, are appearances produced by comparison. Like beauty and ugliness, they have no fixed underlying reality and are only illusory forms and names. Since appearances are empty, names are empty too. That is why the scripture deliberately says “take shape in relation to each other,” rather than saying they are fixed.

Explanation

The forms of things contrast as long and short; affairs follow patterns of difficulty and ease in their rise and decline; and changes move between existence and nonexistence in their arising and passing away. All of this occurs naturally. From a conventional point of view, however, one may assume that what is long must remain long and what is short must remain short, and that existence, nonexistence, difficulty, and ease are all fixed in their appearances. Clinging leads to partiality; understanding accords with the Dao. Only those who accord with the Dao can avoid being confined to one side.

The example of the wild duck and the crane comes from the “Webbed Toes” chapter of Zhuangzi. Each has what is right for it; one should not use the standards of one to lengthen or shorten the other. The example criticizes people who fail to follow the natural order.

High and Low, Rank and Status

“Low” does not refer only to ranks in officialdom. The many titles and positions in human society change over time, with one person taking the stage after another. Even designations such as “minister” and “concubine” shift; there are no “fixed seats” that remain unchanged, because names and appearances are ultimately illusory.

Commentary: The terms “high” and “low” do not apply only to official ranks. Circumstances, natural endowments, intelligence, and achievements all differ widely, and distinctions of higher and lower arise among them. Yet a noble person should, while occupying a high position, never forget what it means to be high, and while in a low position, never forget what it means to be low. Each should keep to their proper place and follow the constant patterns of Heaven; then there will be no usurpation or contention. “Minister” is a humble term used by a man when addressing an elder or ruler; “concubine” is a humble term for a woman in the household. Both express submission to another, so they serve as metaphors for the high and the low. The commentary uses rank and status to offer a broad warning to everyone: only when those of higher and lower rank each accept their place and do not encroach on one another can they preserve their standing to the end. If one disdains a low position and envies a high one, or loathes being low and schemes for higher rank, refusing to accept one’s proper place, calamity and ruin will follow. The Jing says, “Knowing contentment brings no disgrace; knowing when to stop brings no danger. In this way, one can endure.” How could we fail to be cautious?

The Harmony of Sounds

Subcommentary: This passage explains that harmony, too, is empty. The Five Tones combine to form a melody, but who can gather all the sounds together and “fix” a single tune? Just as the various things in the world arise through combination, none has a single, true substance; all are empty. To insist on dividing them into beautiful and ugly is not the view of one who sees clearly.

Commentary: The breath of Heaven and Earth stirs, and all the myriad sounds arise together. The pitches and modes harmonize, and music is born. Once sounds arise, distinctions of beauty and ugliness follow, giving rise to feelings such as ease and joy, resentment and anger, sorrow and longing, worry and gloom. Yet these distinctions often arise from human affairs, from contrivance and the response of governance and teaching. Those who see clearly do not cling to good or evil. To cling as circumstances arise and regard things as real is deluded feeling; only when both beauty and ugliness are forgotten does one reach the Dao. Those who reach the Dao cling to nothing, whether faced with the vastness of Heaven and Earth or the profusion of the myriad things.

The “Record of Music” says: “All sounds arise from the human heart. The heart is stirred by things and gives rise to sounds. When sounds respond to one another, they form changes; when these changes take shape, they are called tones. When tones are arranged and ordered, together with the gan, qi, yu, and mao, this is called music. Thus, when sorrowful, the voice is sharp and subdued; when joyful, it is broad and relaxed; when delighted, it rises and disperses; when angry, it is rough and forceful; when reverent, it is direct and restrained; when affectionate, it is harmonious and gentle. Therefore, the former kings were careful about the source of what stirred the heart.”

(The full text follows the form of a commentary: the opening section quotes the classic, the middle “Subcommentary” briefly explains it, and the final “Commentary” develops the explanation. The vernacular translation follows these three layers. Technical terms such as lülü, gan, qi, yu, mao, and the “Record of Music” retain their original names.)

A Plain-Language Interpretation of The Broadly Illuminating Meaning of the True Scripture of the Dao and Its Virtue

This passage discusses governance through ritual, music, punishments, and government, and through the Five Tones—gong, shang, jue, zhi, and yu. It also cites Zixia and Yan Zi on the distinction between proper music and the music of Zheng and Wei, as well as the music of Sangjian and Poshang. Its main points are as follows.

Ritual, music, punishments, government, and “the way of sound”

Ritual guides people’s aspirations, music harmonizes their hearts, government orders correct their conduct, and punishments guard against wrongdoing. Ritual, music, punishments, and government ultimately serve one purpose.

The way of sound is linked to politics.

Each of the Five Tones has a symbolic meaning:

• Gong represents the ruler.
• Shang represents the ministers and officials.
• Jue represents the people.
• Zhi represents government affairs.
• Yu represents implements and material resources.

Only when these five remain in order is the sound harmonious.

• Music of a well-governed age is peaceful and joyful, reflecting orderly government.
• Music of a troubled age expresses resentment and anger, reflecting government that has gone astray.
• Music of a declining state expresses sorrow, reflecting the people’s hardship.

When the Five Tones each fall out of order and encroach upon one another, this is called “excess”—indulgence and a loss of measure.

• Disorder in gong indicates a ruler who is debauched and arrogant.
• Disorder in shang indicates corrupt officials.
• Disorder in jue indicates a people burdened by worry and resentment.
• Disorder in zhi indicates government affairs marked by sorrow and exhaustion.
• Disorder in yu indicates depleted and endangered resources.

The music of Zheng and Wei belongs to a troubled age and tends toward excess. The music of Sangjian and Poshang belongs to a declining state, where government has dissolved and the people have scattered.

Knowing sound, knowing tones, and knowing music

Those who know only sounds but not tones are like birds and beasts. Those who know tones but not music are ordinary people. A gentleman understands music: by examining sounds, he understands tones; by examining tones, he understands music; and by examining music, he understands government.

One who does not understand sounds cannot be taught about tones; one who does not understand tones cannot be taught about music. Those who understand music are close to understanding ritual.

Zixia speaks to Marquis Wen of Wei: four kinds of music that harm De

Zixia said to Marquis Wen of Wei:

• Zheng music is excessive and disorders the will.
• Song music is languorous and causes the will to sink into indulgence.
• Wei music is hurried and unsettles the will.
• Qi music is arrogant and presumptuous, leading the will into self-indulgence.

These four kinds of music damage De and are not proper music.

Yan Zi speaks to Duke Jing of Qi: the five flavors, Five Tones, and the six Lü and six Lü

During the Spring and Autumn period, Yan Zi told Duke Jing of Qi that the former kings harmonized the five flavors and balanced the heart with the Five Tones, thereby bringing government affairs to completion. Sound, too, is like flavor.

The passage also describes several categories in the system of music, including:

1. Qi (vital energy): energy is needed to set things in motion.

2. Form: dance embodies the civil and military arts.

3. Categories: the Feng, Ya, and Song sections of the Book of Songs.

4. Things: objects from the four directions are fashioned into instruments.

The Five Tones are gong, shang, jue, zhi, and yu.

The Six Lü are the yang pitches: Huangzhong, Taicu, Guxian, Ruibin, Yize, and Wushe.

The Six Lü are the yin pitches: Jiazhong, Linzhong, Zhonglü, Yingzhong, Nanshi, and Dalu. The Lü pitches govern yang, while the Lü pitches govern yin.

The Seven Notes are said to have been devised when King Wu attacked Zhou. Beginning on the day wu and continuing through the day zi, seven days produced seven notes.

The Eight Winds are the winds of the eight directions: Ming Shu from the east, Qing Ming from the southeast, Jing Feng from the south, Liang Feng from the southwest, Chang He from the west, Bu Zhou from the northwest, and Guang Mo from the north. (The original reads “Guang Han”; other editions give “Guang Mo” and other variants.)

Summary

The passage’s central point is that music is not merely entertainment for the ear; it is a mirror of government. When the Five Tones are in order, government is harmonious. The music of Zheng and Wei, and that of Sangjian and Poshang, signal a troubled age or a declining state. A gentleman should examine music to understand government and keep away from the four kinds of music that damage De.

A Vernacular Reading of the Guangshengyi Commentary on the True Scripture of the Dao and Its De

“The northern wind is called the Rong wind. The Nine Songs are songs corresponding to the six offices, three affairs, and nine achievements.”

The wind of the north is called the Rong wind. The Nine Songs are songs associated with the six offices, three affairs, and nine achievements.

“Clear and turbid, small and great, short and long, swift and slow, sorrowful and joyful, hard and soft, delayed and rapid, high and low, outgoing and incoming, dense and sparse: they complete and balance one another.”

Clear and turbid, small and great, short and long, swift and slow, sorrowful and joyful, hard and soft, delayed and rapid, high and low, outgoing and incoming, dense and sparse—all complete and balance one another.

“The noble person listens to them to bring the heart into balance. Only when the heart is balanced and De is harmonious does one approach the Dao.”

The noble person uses music to bring the heart into balance. Only when the heart is balanced and De (Virtue/Power) is harmonious does one approach the Dao (the Way).

“Shun made a five-stringed zither and sang of the southern wind. Kui first devised music and bestowed it on the feudal lords. The principles of governing a state can be understood through its music: from its sounds one can discern order or disorder.”

Shun made a five-stringed zither and sang of the “Southern Wind.” Kui, an ancient music official, first devised ritual music and bestowed it on the feudal lords. The principles of governing a state can be understood through its music: its sounds reveal whether the state is well ordered or in disarray.

“Thus, Jizha, a prince of Wu, listened in turn to the music of the Three Dynasties and of later times, and understood the rise and fall of the various states.”

Thus Jizha, a prince of Wu, listened to the music of the Three Dynasties and of later times, and understood the rise and fall of the various states.

“Those who cultivate themselves close their eyes and turn their hearing inward, listening for what has no sound. Only then can one speak with them of the Dao.”

Those who cultivate themselves close their eyes and turn their hearing inward, listening for what has no sound. Only then can one speak with them of the Dao.

“What follows what came before”

Commentary: The six things are interconnected, and each takes its name from another in turn. Beauty and ugliness, too, do not arise inherently from their own nature. Such names come about because deluded feelings impose them.

The six things are interconnected, and each takes its name from another in turn. Beauty and ugliness are not inherent in things themselves; these names arise because deluded feelings impose them.

Explanatory note: This passage clarifies that all three periods of time are empty. Day and night replace one another; as each gives way to the next, the new takes the place of the old. When one foot is set down, which step is first and which comes after? The terms “before” and “after” are established by following one another; the names are imposed through delusion, so who can recognize the spirit at their heart? Past, future, and present are all empty. They are in constant flux, and beauty and ugliness, too, have no fixed names.

This passage clarifies that all three periods of time are empty. Day and night replace one another, and the new takes the place of the old. When one foot is set down, which step is first and which comes after? The terms “before” and “after” are established only because things follow one another. These names are imposed through delusion—who, then, can recognize the spirit at their heart? Past, future, and present are all empty and ceaselessly changing. Beauty and ugliness, too, have no fixed names.

Interpretation: The distinction between before and after arises from change. Without change or movement, what could come first or later? It is because things follow one another that we distinguish before from after. Those who see clearly let all such distinctions fade away. The laws of the world merely bring them into view. “Setting down a foot” means taking a step. When a step is taken, which part is later and which is earlier? Understanding this puts an end to disputes over before and after.

The distinction between before and after arises from change. Without change or movement, what could come first or later? It is because things follow one another that we distinguish before from after. Those who see clearly let all such distinctions fade away; the laws of the world merely make them apparent. “Setting down a foot” means taking a step. When a step is taken, which part is later and which is earlier? Understanding this puts an end to disputes over before and after.

“Laojun pitied worldly people, who drifted away and did not return, giving rise to disputes born of deluded feelings and forgetting the Middle Way. He therefore explained six examples in turn to guide the foolish and confused.”

Laojun pitied worldly people, who drifted away and did not return, caught up in disputes born of deluded feelings and forgetting the Middle Way. He therefore presented six examples in turn to guide the foolish and confused.

“The Middle Way is neither Yin nor Yang and bears no one-sided name.”

The Middle Way is neither Yin nor Yang; it bears no one-sided name.

“Abiding between Heaven and Earth, one remains aloof and at ease, accepts whatever circumstances bring, has no concern for merit or fame, and returns to the root of the Dao.”

Abiding between Heaven and Earth, one remains aloof and at ease, accepts whatever circumstances bring, has no concern for merit or fame, and returns to the root of the Dao.

“The distinction between Yao and Jie, the changes of life and death, the divisions between right and wrong, the differences between long life and early death, the gulf between honor and low status, the feelings of sorrow and joy, and the succession of past and present—all are to be forgotten.”

One forgets the difference between Yao and Jie, the changes of life and death, the divisions between right and wrong, the differences between long life and early death, the gulf between honor and low status, the feelings of sorrow and joy, and the succession of past and present.

“Not knowing the difference between Yao and Jie is to forget beauty and ugliness; not knowing the changes of life and death is to forget existence and nonexistence; not knowing the division between right and wrong is to forget difficulty and ease; not knowing the difference between long life and early death is to forget length and brevity; not knowing the gulf between honor and low status is to forget sorrow and joy.”

Not knowing the difference between Yao and Jie is to forget beauty and ugliness. Not knowing the changes of life and death is to forget existence and nonexistence. Not knowing the division between right and wrong is to forget difficulty and ease. Not knowing the difference between long life and early death is to forget length and brevity. Not knowing the gulf between honor and low status is to forget sorrow and joy.

(The whole text follows the original format of commentary, explanatory notes, and interpretation, presenting them together and briefly explaining specialized terms on first use.)

A Discussion of the Person Who Follows the Middle Way

In his heart, he makes no distinction between honor and disgrace; he has also forgotten the difference between high and low, above and below. He is untouched by sorrow or joy, and hears the sounds around him without listening. He pays no mind to the succession of past and present, and clings to no order of before and after.

Such a person dwells in a state beyond right and wrong and walks a path free of haste or agitation. When things come, he does not go against his nature; when they pass, he does not cling to them. He responds to everything in harmony, following the Dao (the Way). When something is added, he feels nothing has increased; when something is taken away, he feels nothing has diminished. This is one who has fully awakened to the Middle Way: he has forgotten the distinction between before and after, and the clever schemes of worldly change.

Scripture:

Therefore, the sage engages in Wuwei (non-action) and teaches without words.

Note:

“Wuwei” means that nothing is done to disturb things. The word “doing” is used here only as a label, which is why the text says “engages in.” Teaching without words means forgetting speech. The word “teaching” is used only as a label, which is why the text says “teaches.”

Commentary:

“Therefore” introduces what follows and explains what came before. Those who adorn themselves with cleverness and manipulate power are not truly practicing Wuwei, even if they stand with folded hands and say nothing. Those who let things follow their natural course may spend the whole day directing and arranging affairs, yet remain inwardly calm and at ease. The sage understands that the nature of all things is empty, and so has no self-importance or attachment.

Those who govern the world should cast aside empty show and pretense, and rely instead on sincere virtue, allowing the people to settle into their proper places. Once each person’s place is established, there is no need to disturb them. Is this not Wuwei? The sage’s words come from his own mouth, yet accord with the hearts of all under Heaven. So even if he speaks throughout his life, it is as though he has never spoken. Is this not teaching without words?

On the Meaning:

The sage shares his virtue with Heaven and Earth, his brightness with the sun and moon, his order with the four seasons, and the influence over good and ill fortune with spirits. Only such a person is called a sage. Broadly speaking, there are five kinds:

First, sages who attain the Dao

Such as the Most High Lord Lao and the great sages of the heavens.

Second, sages who held sovereignty over the world and also became immortals

Such as Fuxi, the Yellow Emperor, Zhuanxu, Shaohao, Yao, and Shun.

Third, sages who held sovereignty over the world but did not become immortals

Such as Tang of Yin, King Wen, and King Wu. They brought order to the lands within the four seas, but the historical records do not say that they ascended to Heaven and became immortals.

Fourth, sages of great learning

They held no sovereignty over the world. Examples include the Duke of Zhou and Confucius, who established rites and music and set an example for generations of kings. Though they held no throne of supreme authority, they possessed the beauty of virtue in harmony with Heaven and Earth.

Fifth, sages distinguished by a particular excellence

They were not renowned for great learning, nor did they possess the qualities described above, but reached the highest level in a particular art. Boya and Shi Wen were sages of the qin; Ziqing and Suiming were sages of the game of go; Zhongqi and Yanzhou were sages at recognizing music; and so on.

The following is a modern plain-language interpretation of this passage in the Extensive Commentary on the True Scripture of Dao and De, aiming to stay faithful to the original while making it easy to read.

Several meanings of “sage”

The “sage” mentioned in the scripture can refer to people who excel in a particular art: Han E and Qin Qing, masters of musical pitch; Gong Shuwen and Zhi Zhi, masters of singing; Li Zhu and Shi Kuang, renowned for exceptional sight and hearing; and Zhang Zhi and Zhong Yao, masters of calligraphy. Here, however, “sage” mainly means a sage ruler who governs the realm. He lets his robes hang, sits facing south with composed dignity, and does not intervene much himself. This is what is meant by taking up the work of Wuwei (non-action): appreciating the beauty of Heaven and Earth, understanding the patterns of the myriad things, and following the cycles of the four seasons. The ruler above acts without action, while the myriad things below transform of themselves; this is called practicing the teaching without words. When a state is governed this way, the people live in peace and customs are harmonious, in accord with the Dao.

“The myriad things arise, and he does not claim them”

Note: He lets each thing act according to its own nature, without asking the sage for thanks or crediting the sage with its achievements.

Commentary: “Arise” means to act or function; “claim” means to refuse or to give thanks. The sage guides transformation skillfully, yet does nothing and takes no action. The people do not know who is governing them; they enjoy their freedom and go about their own activities without thanking the sage for his achievements. Hence the saying, “They beat the earth and drum their bellies, forgetting the emperor’s power.” The people forget the ruler’s contribution: this is how the world forgets the sage’s merit.

Explanation: As far as the myriad things are concerned, they have existed since ancient times; they did not come into being because the sage made them so. Each thing gives rise to life and acts of itself. The phrase “roaming and rejoicing at ease” comes from the Classic of Great Mystery: because those above act without action, those below are at peace, and the people have leisure. “Beating the earth” means patting the soil as a game. In the “Horses’ Hooves” chapter of the Zhuangzi, the time of the sage-king Hexu is described as one when people ate their fill and played, drumming their bellies as they wandered. “Unaware of the emperor’s power” refers to an account in Wang Chong’s Lunheng: when Yao ruled, the realm was at peace. At fifty, people still beat the earth by the roadside, drummed their bellies, and sang: “We dig wells to drink, plow fields to eat; at sunrise we work, at sunset we rest. What has the emperor’s power to do with us?” This shows how the people forgot the sage’s achievements.

“He gives life but does not possess; he acts but does not rely on his achievements; when the work is done, he does not claim the credit”

Note: He lets each thing fulfill its nature, but the sage does not claim it as his own. He lets each thing accomplish what it does, but does not rely on those actions as his own merit. Even after the achievement of peace has been realized, he remains cautious day after day and does not settle into comfort or take credit.

Commentary: He lets each thing fully realize its capacity for life, but the sage does not claim it as his own. He lets each thing secure its livelihood, but does not treat what he has done as merit on which he can rely.

This passage comes from the Guangshengyi on the True Classic of the Dao and De, written by the Daoist Chen Jingyuan and others during the Song dynasty. It expands on ideas in the Daodejing such as “Because he does not contend, no one under heaven can contend with him” and “When the work is done, he does not claim it.” The following is a plain-language explanation of its meaning.

The general meaning of the scripture

Even when the achievements of a peaceful and prosperous age are vast and relief has been provided for a long time, the sage should remain as cautious at the end as at the beginning. He should not grow complacent or take pride in his accomplishments. This is what it means for the sage to forget his own achievements. The commentary quotes the Book of Documents: “Be cautious each day,” meaning to remain vigilant day after day and never relax one’s guard.

Commentary on the meaning

The sage treats all things without harming them, allowing each to flourish in its own way. He also does not claim credit or rely on his achievements to exalt himself. He lets everything follow its natural course and remains in complete accord with the natural order.

The ancients distinguished several kinds of achievement: the ruler’s achievement was called “merit,” as when the Duke of Zhou assisted King Cheng; the achievement of preserving a state was called “accomplishment,” as when Yi Yin safeguarded the state; achievement benefiting the people was called “service,” as when Hou Ji set an example that benefited the people; achievement through labor was called “toil,” as when Yu the Great established the state through his hard work; achievement in establishing order was called “results,” as when Gao Yao made laws and brought order; and achievement in battle was called “distinction,” as when Han Xin defeated enemies with unexpected tactics. But the bringing forth and nurturing of all things is called mysterious achievement: its work reaches far and deep, hence “mysterious.” Only by completing the work without claiming it can one preserve the achievement of Wuwei (non-action).

According to the commentaries, although the sage has the achievement of restoring things and rescuing the world, he does not boast or rely on it. Fearing that he might lose the Dao and ruin his achievement, he exercises greater caution each day and never rests. “Rest” means ease and comfort; “caution” means steadfast vigilance. The sage practices Wuwei, and his achievements are vast: each thing fulfills its nature and finds its proper place. Heaven is clear above, Earth is tranquil below, and the four seas are at peace. All is calm and settled: this is what is called great peace.

“Because he does not claim it, it does not leave him”

The commentary says: Precisely because he does not allow himself to become complacent and continues to cultivate De, he can forget his achievements while they remain intact; he does not claim credit, and his achievements do not depart.

The subcommentary says: The sage is steadfast and upright, like a taut hair, and as cautious at the end as at the beginning. His efforts never falter from first to last, and he never settles into ease and pleasure. Thus he renews his abundant De day by day. He forgets his achievements, yet they do not leave him; his radiance reaches throughout the world, and the world is at peace. Therefore it says: “Because he does not claim it, it does not leave him.”

Commentary on the meaning: conclusion

“Because” is an introductory phrase that carries forward the preceding ideas of “not possessing” and “not claiming credit.” The sage’s authority extends to the four directions, yet he does not think of them as his possession; his bounty reaches all things, yet he does not regard it as a favor he has bestowed. He benefits the world through his achievements, yet does not consider them his own De; his De surpasses that of all under heaven, yet he does not regard himself as their master. He forgets himself in the utmost Dao and aligns his aspirations with emptiness and nothingness. Though he occupies the highest place, people do not feel weighed down by him; though he takes the lead, people are not harmed by him. The world gladly supports him and never tires of him, so his De does not depart. A ruler, too, should not give way to arbitrary joy or anger, but should accord with the way of not claiming credit.

How this relates to the Daodejing

Here the Guangshengyi connects “not claiming credit” with “great peace” and “being as cautious at the end as at the beginning.” The greater one’s achievements, the more one must proceed with care; only then is the De of Wuwei complete. By refusing to contend for credit and not relying on one’s achievements, De and achievement endure. This is how Song dynasty Daoist interpretation gives concrete meaning to “Because he does not claim it, it does not leave him.”

In this way, punishments and rewards will not be abused, and wars will not be launched lightly. When the ruler does not greedily demand and take whatever he pleases, taxes will not be too heavy, and the delivery of tribute will not become onerous. When people are appointed without regard to personal likes and dislikes, appointments and dismissals will be appropriate, and the worthy will be clearly distinguished from the unworthy. When the ruler does not indiscriminately appoint personal favorites, those who attend him on every side will all be upright people. When he does not recklessly expand territory or lightly provoke war, the army need not march out, and the soldiers need not suffer hardship. When he does not needlessly disturb and harm the people, all under Heaven can be at peace. The myriad things each find their proper place; the ruler does not rely on his own achievements, but brings benefit through Wuwei (non-action). How vast are the benefits of this!

“Dense and straight as hair” comes from a line in “Du Ren Shi” in the Book of Songs, and describes a person’s nature as finely formed and conduct as upright, like a hair straight from root to tip, with no unevenness or thinning.