《道德真經廣聖義》Vol. 9

This passage expounds the principle of "not exalting the worthy" (bu shang xian). Laozi believed that when rulers excessively venerate talented individuals, it actually provokes social contention. Here "exalting the worthy" refers to the deliberate showcasing and flaunting of virtuous abilities.

The true art of governance lies in this: the ruler should maintain an attitude of governing through Wuwei (non-action), allowing capable individuals to naturally fulfill their roles. Like clouds following dragons or winds accompanying tigers in their natural movements. When ancient sage-kings like Yao and Shun ruled, they didn't deliberately promote worthy ministers, yet talented officials like Yuan and Kai (Shun's virtuous ministers) emerged spontaneously; during the reigns of Tang of Shang and Wu of Zhou, wise chancellors like Yi Yin and Lü Shang naturally found their proper places.

The text identifies three problems arising from excessive pursuit of worthiness: First, people would feign virtue (xun ji), losing their authentic nature; second, it provokes competitive strife; third, it creates opportunities for crafty individuals, as genuine worthiness becomes difficult to discern. As the Daode Jing states: "When wisdom appears, great hypocrisy arises" — when those above exalt wisdom, those below will counterfeit it.

The optimal governance method is this: The ruler leads by example, governing through Wuwei, transforming the people with Taihe (the harmonious Qi of the cosmos), and administering the state through the Dao's purity and stillness. Thus, truly worthy individuals will naturally gather like clouds following dragons or winds accompanying tigers, each finding their proper place, eliminating competitive desires in society. The text cites the Yijing's Qian hexagram imagery of "flying dragons in heaven" to illustrate that when rulers spread virtue widely like celestial dragons, worthy ministers will naturally come to assist.

Plain-Language Interpretation

All things belong to their own kind. That is why the text first says: water flows toward damp places, and fire burns toward dry ones; clouds rise with dragons, and wind is stirred by tigers. Things of the same kind naturally respond to one another. This serves as an analogy: when an emperor ascends to the honored “Ninth Five” position—the throne of the Son of Heaven—the nations come to pay homage. When a sage appears, all things look up to him and follow his example. The underlying principle is this: what originates in Heaven draws near to what is above; what originates in Earth draws near to what is below.

The passage explains that water is Yin: when it flows over the ground, it naturally seeks damp places. Fire is Yang: when it burns on wood, it naturally seeks what is dry. These two things have neither awareness nor feelings, yet they respond this way simply because their basic energies resonate. The dragon is a numinous creature of the waters, and clouds are the waters’ breath; when the dragon roars, auspicious clouds rise. The tiger is a fierce and powerful beast, and wind is the breath of movement; when the tiger roars, wind springs up in the valleys. Even things that are aware and have feelings respond in this way when they share the same “kind of energy” with beings that lack awareness and feeling. How much more, then, when a sage descends into the world like a flying dragon in the heavens, when sages and worthies support one another, and when all things respond to one another? That is why the passage sets out these examples at length.

Emperor Yao during the Tang era: Emperor Yao was known as Tao Tang. His surname was Yi Qi and his personal name was Fangxun. He was the son of Emperor Ku. His mother, Qingdu, was Emperor Ku’s second consort. She conceived after encountering a red dragon and gave birth to Yao after fourteen months. From childhood, Yao showed the virtue of a sage. At sixteen, he took the throne as Lord of Tang. He ruled for seventy years, with his capital in Jizhou. At eighty-six, recognizing that his son Danzhu was unworthy, he made the worthy widely known, sought talent among the humble, and selected Shun. He tested Shun’s abilities over time and gave him his two daughters in marriage to observe his virtue. Two years later, Yao abdicated in Shun’s favor. Shun had been on the throne for twenty-eight years when Yao died. Yao lived to the age of 117 and was buried in Chengyangli, Jiyin. According to the posthumous naming rules, he was called “Good, Broad, and Sagely,” and so received the posthumous name Yao.

Emperor Shun: Shun belonged to the Youyu clan and was a descendant of Zhuanxu, grandson of Qiaoniu, and son of Gusou. His mother, Wodeng, conceived after seeing a great rainbow. He was born at Yaohill, which is why his surname was Yao. His personal name was Chonghua, and he became renowned for his filial devotion. After being selected for service, he underwent tests for two years before ascending to the throne. When Yao died, Shun was thirty. The period of his summons, testing, and acting as regent lasted twenty-eight years. After mourning for three years, he ruled as Son of Heaven for fifty years in all. He toured the southern regions and died in the wilderness of Cangwu at the age of 112. He appointed Yu as his successor and was buried at Jiuyi, in Lingling. Because his son Shangjun was unworthy, he did not pass the throne to him. Shun entered Cangwu and never returned. His two consorts gazed toward Cangwu; this is the origin of the legend of the Xiang Consorts.

Note: The first part uses the images of water and fire, clouds and dragons, and wind and tigers to illustrate how things of the same kind resonate, and how the world turns toward a sage once he takes the throne. The latter part continues with the Confucian account of Yao and Shun’s abdication and their selection and testing of worthy successors. This is a method of supporting the sage’s significance with historical examples, not part of the text of the Dao De Jing.

Jiuyi Mountain and Shun’s Ascent to Immortality

The nine peaks of Jiuyi Mountain resemble one another so closely that people could not find the exact place where Shun was laid to rest; looking from afar, they were filled with uncertainty. Legend says that Shun wept here, staining the bamboo branches with mottled patterns, and that this gave the mountain its name, Jiuyi, “Nine Doubts.” The Book of Documents says that Shun died here after making an inspection tour of the regions. The Records of the Grand Historian, however, describes him as having “ascended to the distant heights”—meaning that he rose to a faraway realm and never returned.

The Biographies of Daoist Masters records that Yao was the Perfected Lord of Taiwei and Shun the Perfected Lord of Taiji. The Record of Jiuyi Mountain says that Shun once descended into the mountain. These accounts all attest that he held the rank of a high Perfected One, stood alongside the Great Sage, attained the Dao, ascended to the distant heights, and became an immortal. This is quite clear.

In ancient times, King Yufu of the Fish-Falcon people traveled to Mount Jian and soared aloft; Emperor Wang lived at Shiniu and likewise transcended the world in an instant. The Yellow Emperor, Xuanyuan, ascended on a dragon at Dinghu, while Yu of Xia rode a whirlwind over Mirror Lake. In “The Great and Venerable Teacher,” Zhuangzi says that Xiwei attained the Dao and governed Heaven and Earth; Fuxi attained the Dao and inherited the “Mother of Qi”; the Yellow Emperor attained the Dao and ascended into the cloudy heavens; and Zhuanxu attained the Dao and dwelt in the Dark Palace. Thus Shennong ruled at the Southern Pole, Tang of Yin presided over the Northern Mystery, Wuding held office in the Purple Palace, Yangjia in Cangyuan, King Wen in the Great Void, King Wu in Great Peace, King Kang in Shaohua, King Mu in Jiuyuan, Emperor Jing of Han in Taiyi, and Emperor Wen of Han in Tongxuan. The Eight Emperors held office among the Eight Kui, and Emperor Wu of Han in Xuancheng. All were rulers who governed their states, attained the Dao, and ascended to become Perfected Ones, taking their places among the ranks of celestial officials. It is only natural, then, that Yao and Shun ascended to immortality.

Yuan and Kai: The Eight Yuan and Eight Kai

“Yuan and Kai” refers to the Eight Yuan and the Eight Kai. In ancient times, Gaoxin had eight talented sons: Bofen, Zhongkan, Shuxian, Jizhong, Bohu, Zhongxiong, Shubao, and Jili. They were loyal, respectful, courteous, and virtuous; widely benevolent, compassionate, kind, and harmonious. The world called them the Eight Yuan. Here, su means “respectful,” yi means “beautiful,” xuan means “widespread,” and yuan means “good.”

Gaoyang also had eight talented sons: Cangshu, Tuikai, Daoyan, Dalin, Longjiang, Tingjian, Zhongrong, and Shuda. They were balanced and wise, broad and profound, discerning and trustworthy, steadfast and sincere. The world called them the Eight Kai. Here, qi means “balanced,” yuan means “profound,” yun means “trustworthy,” du means “steadfast,” and kai means “harmonious.” These sixteen clans carried on the virtues of their forebears and kept their names from falling into obscurity.

At first, Yao did not employ them. Later, he appointed Shun as his minister and also appointed the Eight Yuan, sending them to teach the Five Teachings throughout the four regions. The Five Teachings were righteousness in the father, kindness in the mother, affection in the elder brother, respect in the younger brother, and filial devotion in the child. In this way, order was established within the family and harmony achieved beyond it.

(Gaoxin was Emperor Ku, and Gaoyang belonged to the line of Zhuanxu. Taiwei, Taiji, and similar titles are honorifics for high-ranking beings in the Daoist heavens. “Ascending to the distant heights” and “ascending to become a Perfected One” both refer to becoming immortal, leaving the world, and rising to the heavenly realm.)

The Later Eight Yuan were their descendants, including Ji, Xie, Zhu, Hu, Xiong, and Pi. The Eight Kai were also appointed to oversee the office of Houtu, responsible for land and agriculture, and to assess and arrange the various affairs of government. Everything was handled in due season and in good order.

“Earth brought to peace, Heaven’s work brought to completion” means that the land was well governed and Heaven’s work fulfilled.

Gaoyang was a title of Zhuanxu. The Eight Kai were also his descendants.

There were also Chui, Yu, Gao Yao, and Yi. Gao Yao’s courtesy name was Tingjian, and he was one of these men.

Xie, that is, Qi, served as Situ, overseeing moral instruction. “The Five Teachings were grounded in generosity.” Xie was one of the Eight Yuan.

Yu served as Sikong, overseeing construction and the management of land and water, and brought the waters and land under control. Yu held the office of Houtu and was one of the Eight Kai.

“Bringing the interior to peace” means pacifying the states of the Central Plains; “bringing the exterior to completion” means securing peace with the Rong and Di peoples beyond the borders.

Shun appointed the Sixteen Clans—the Eight Yuan and the Eight Kai—and brought great order to the realm, with peace within and beyond its borders.

This account appears in the eighteenth year of Duke Wen in the Spring and Autumn Annals. After Pu of Ju assassinated his ruler and fled to Lu, Jisun Xingfu instructed the historian Shike to cite this precedent in remonstrating with Duke Xuan of Lu.

Yi and Lü: Yi refers to Yi Yin, who was born near the Yi River at Kongsang. He served the Shang as minister, assisting Taijia, and was known as Aheng. His ancestor Yi Zhi assisted Tang in establishing the altars of state and bringing peace to the realm. Yi Yin’s son, Yi Zhi, assisted Taijia’s grandson, Taiwu. The achievements of these three ministers were renowned in the Shang dynasty.

Lü refers to Taigong Wang, also known as Jiang Ziya. His surname was Jiang and his courtesy name was Ziya. While fishing at Pan Creek, he caught a large fish. When he cut it open, he found a jade tablet containing military secrets, which he studied. When he was over eighty, King Wen of Zhou divined before hunting on the banks of the Wei River. The divination said, “Neither bear nor wildcat, but the king’s teacher.” The king then went hunting, found Ziya, and brought him back in his chariot. Later, Ziya used his military strategy to assist King Wu in defeating the Shang and beginning the rise of the Zhou dynasty. At first, he was enfeoffed in Lü or Fu; thus, in the Book of Documents, the Marquis of Lü or Marquis of Fu appears in the account of King Mu’s sacrificial rites. After Taigong defeated King Zhou, he was enfeoffed in Qi. The Duke of Shao, Kang, charged him: “Among the five lords and nine hegemonic rulers, you are to lead them in supporting the Zhou house.” He granted Taigong territory extending east to the sea, west to the Yellow River, south to Muling, and north to Wudi. Later, Duke Huan of Qi, Xiaobai, became leader of the feudal lords. Toward the end of the Spring and Autumn period, his minister Tian He moved Duke Kang of Qi to the coast and seized his state.

Those “looked to for the office of Taibeng” were candidates for the highest ministerial ranks. The Son of Heaven established the Three Dukes to correspond to the Three Terraces in the sky. The “Three Terraces and Six Offices” refers to the Grand Commandant, Minister of Education, Minister of Works, Grand Preceptor, Grand Tutor, and Grand Guardian. The Three Terraces are six stars: two each in the upper, middle, and lower terraces.

[The Celestial Signs and the Three Dukes]

South of the Purple Tenuity Enclosure, stars form a protective arc around the throne of the Celestial Emperor, extending from the Wenchang stars to the Taiwei Enclosure. The Heavenly Steps stars govern the Three Dukes, the Nine Ministers, and the people, from scholars to commoners. When the colors of the Nine Regions shine brightly and the stars are arrayed in good order, ruler and ministers are in harmony, and laws and decrees are fair.

The distance from the Upper Terrace to the Middle Terrace is sixteen degrees, and the Middle Terrace is likewise sixteen degrees from the Lower Terrace. Each of the three stars is half a degree from the next. If the intervals are too wide, this signifies an extravagant ruler; if too narrow, it signifies oppressive government. Each star has its own charge: the upper star governs the Son of Heaven, the middle star governs the feudal lords—the earls, viscounts, and barons—and the Di peoples, and the lower star governs the ministers and high officials. When all three stars are steady and bright, it is auspicious; if they waver or change color, it is inauspicious. If one star departs, the realm is in danger; if two depart, the realm falls into chaos; if all three depart, the realm can no longer be governed.

The Grand Preceptor serves as a model for the myriad states; the Grand Tutor instructs and transforms through virtue and right conduct; the Grand Guardian protects the person of the Son of Heaven; the Grand Commandant oversees military affairs and commands the troops; the Minister of Instruction reverently spreads the Five Teachings; and the Minister of Works oversees the regulation of water and land. These are the Three Dukes, corresponding in Heaven to the three stars of the Three Terraces.

“Aheng”: “A” means to lean upon, and “heng” means balance. The Son of Heaven leans upon the Three Dukes to bring the realm into order. The Book of Documents says that Yi Yin assisted the Shang dynasty as Aheng. “Coveting” means hoping for or greedily seeking something.

The Classic says: “Do not prize goods that are hard to obtain, and the people will not become thieves.”

Commentary: Goods that are hard to obtain are things not included in one’s inborn nature and that cannot be gained through forced pursuit; hence they are called hard to obtain. To be discontent with one’s allotted nature and envy what one does not possess is to lose one’s nature, which is no different from theft. If all things are allowed to follow their own nature and fulfill their abilities, then goods that are hard to obtain will not be prized, and the natural impulses of life and nature will not be stolen away.

Further explanation: Each person receives a natural allotment at birth. The capacities and qualities one is endowed with are the treasures within oneself. To pursue what lies beyond one’s allotment is to seek what cannot be attained; hence such things are called hard to obtain. To be discontent with one’s nature and long for another’s intelligence is to lose one’s innate genuineness and become entirely given over to selfish appropriation. If now the wise and the foolish each keep to their own abilities, and those who are capable and those who are not each follow their own nature, then no one will seek what lies beyond their allotment. They will naturally cease to prize what is hard to obtain, and all will fulfill their own nature. Who, then, would become a thief? Thus the Zhuangzi says: “The unkind cut off the natural impulses of life and nature, and greedily seek wealth and rank.”

Another interpretation: If a ruler does not prize pearls, rhinoceros horn, and other precious treasures, governance will be clear and decrees quiet. The people will be transformed by this example and will no longer be greedy or grasping. Each person will know contentment, and so they will not become thieves.

On the meaning:

At birth, people receive the numinous essence of Heaven and Earth. Those who receive clear, bright, open, and lucid Qi become sages and worthy people; those who receive turbid, stagnant, troubled, and dim Qi become foolish and base.

[Plain-Language Interpretation]

When sages and worthies are held in contempt, people’s understanding becomes obstructed. When people are foolish and dull, their awareness of their own nature becomes clouded. This is how differences of rank in people’s natural capacities arise. The Lord Lao (Laozi) said to Confucius: “The Change, the Great Dao, brings forth human beings and all things. Among birds, beasts, and insects, each has its male and female, and each receives its own Qi (vital energy). Ordinary people do not know why this is so; only those who understand Dao (the Way) and De (Virtue/Power) can trace it back to its source.” Wenzi said: “Clear Qi becomes Heaven, turbid Qi becomes Earth, and harmonized Qi becomes human beings. Within this harmonized Qi there is brightness and darkness, and so there are the worthy and the foolish.” For the foolish to try to reach the level of the worthy is to exceed their allotted place; for the dim-witted to try to replace the clear-sighted is to make a presumptuous demand. This is what the “Bending the Toes” chapter of the Zhuangzi means by “forcing the natural inclinations of one’s nature and life, and greedily pursuing rank and wealth.”

People covet wealth and rank because there are others in the world who esteem them. If nothing gave grounds for esteeming them, people would keep to their proper place and do what their abilities allowed. Why would they then rupture the natural inclinations of their nature and life, and greedily seize hopes beyond their station? If rulers did not esteem pearls, jade, and other treasures, their subjects would cease to covet them and everyone would be content with what they had. Only then could it be called “not making people thieves.”

“Do not display what is desirable, and people’s minds will not be unsettled.”

Note: Since there are no signs that the worthy and capable are being esteemed, and no pursuit of rare goods, there is nothing desirable to display, and people’s minds will not be confused.

Commentary: To envy the intelligent is to see something desirable. Once the mind of desire is stirred, how could it remain undisturbed? Now, if the worthy are not exalted and people do not presumptuously seek what lies beyond their station, they will see nothing desirable, and their minds will not be confused.

Explanation: To yearn for and admire something is to desire it. When one’s natural awareness is limited, to yearn for intelligence is to exceed one’s station; this is called desire. At the beginning of the path, those who cultivate Dao have not yet fulfilled their aspirations or mastered their practice. Fearing that they will see what they desire and be drawn along by their surroundings, they withdraw to the mountains and forests to avoid the noise and bustle. Once their minds are at ease and their resolve is settled, their surroundings can no longer tempt them, and they can manage affairs all day while remaining composed. As the saying goes: “The lesser hermit withdraws to the mountains; the greater hermit lives in the marketplace.”

When they have not yet let go of desire and fear being drawn along by their surroundings, they still retreat to the mountains and forests to avoid what might catch their eye. But once they have clarified their minds, quieted their thoughts, and fixed their attention on the true and the One, they are no longer troubled by external distractions and inwardly preserve a calm, harmonious resolve. Even amid the ceaseless activity of court and marketplace, fame and profit do not touch their hearts; moving busily through the world, right and wrong do not trouble their minds. What harm can there be to cultivating the true by blending into city life?

The General Meaning of the Scripture

The scripture says that the sage takes governing the state and cultivating the self as fundamental. What does governing the state involve? It begins with governing oneself. Thus, empty the heart, fill the belly, abandon desires, and forget knowledge. By practicing Wuwei (non-action) through non-action, nothing will remain beyond good governance.

Explanation: The Perfected Emperor of Heaven said to the Yellow Emperor: “I have never heard of someone who has cultivated the self successfully but failed to govern the state. A person’s body is a miniature of a state: the chest and belly are like its palace, the limbs like its borders, the joints like its officials, the spirit like its ruler, the blood like its ministers, and Qi (vital energy) like its people. Understand how to cultivate the self, and you will understand how to govern the state. Cherishing the people can secure the state; preserving the original Qi can keep the body whole. When the people scatter, the state perishes; when Qi is exhausted, the body dies. The dead cannot be brought back to life. Therefore, the Perfected One removes calamities before they arise and tends to illness before it manifests. Qi is hard to nourish and easily becomes turbid; people are hard to gather and easily disperse. Govern before trouble begins; do not wait until it has passed to regret what happened. You must strive to do this.”

“Empty the Heart”

Note: The heart is empty when it is not disturbed by things it desires.

Commentary: When the heart is made to chase external things, worldly affairs cloud the spirit. When one stills the thoughts and preserves one’s original nature, desires do not arise. When desires do not arise, the heart is empty. Zhuangzi says, “In an empty room, brightness is born.” This means that when the heart is empty, a pure, white light arises of its own accord. Hence the phrase, “Empty the heart.”

Explanation: The Dao gathers in emptiness; when the heart is empty, the Dao returns to dwell within. With the Dao within, the spirit wanders together with transformation, and the heart communes with Heaven. All things below transform of themselves, while the sage above rests at ease. This may be called a world governed by the highest principle. “In an empty room, brightness is born” comes from Zhuangzi’s “In the Human World”: the “room” refers to the heart, and seeing what is present as though it were absent is what it means for the heart to be empty. When the heart is empty, pure whiteness appears of itself—pure whiteness is a state of great openness and clarity. The Scripture of Inner Observation says: “The heart is neither blue nor red, neither white nor yellow; neither long nor short, neither round nor square. It is vast enough to encompass Heaven and Earth, yet subtle enough to enter the tiniest filament. Restrain it, and it comes to a stop; release it, and it runs wild. When clear and still, it gives rise to life; when turbid and agitated, it perishes. It illuminates the eight directions; in darkness, it loses its way in one.” The heart is the hardest thing for people to subdue. That is why teaching people to cultivate the Dao means teaching them to cultivate the heart, and teaching them to cultivate the heart means teaching them to cultivate the Dao. The heart cannot be made to cease its thoughts.

A Plain-Language Interpretation

On the Mind and Cultivating the Dao

The Dao can be seen only when the mind is stilled. When the mind is agitated, the Dao cannot be seen; one must rely on the Dao to discern good from evil. All things in the world arise because of the mind and perish because of the mind. Those who cultivate the Dao must extinguish deluded thoughts to accord with the Dao; worldly people who indulge their thoughts put both body and mind in danger. When the mind stirs, confusion follows; when it is still, principle is present within it. Thus the Son of Heaven appoints officials, clarifies laws and standards, establishes punishments and rewards, and makes good and ill fortune known to encourage the people—all to address the difficulty of governing the mind.

What is called having no mind means not clinging deludedly to anything. Settling the mind means not being confused. Stilling the mind means not acting recklessly. Controlling the mind means not falling into disorder. Rectifying the mind means not straying into error. Purifying the mind means remaining unstained. Emptying the mind means not becoming attached. Only by understanding these seven ways of working with the mind can one speak of the Dao and the cultivation of the mind.

“Fill the Belly”

“Fill the belly”: When the inner life is full of moral virtue, one does not boast or cater to external things, just as a person naturally stops seeking food once full.

Commentary on “belly”: The belly has the sense of containing and taking in. When the belly is full, one does not crave more. One should fill oneself inwardly with the Dao and virtue, so that craving does not arise; hence the phrase “fill the belly.”

The note’s phrase “eat one’s fill and stop” comes from the Zuo Commentary, a work transmitted by Zuo Qiuming on the Spring and Autumn Annals. Yan Mei and Ru Kuan said it while remonstrating with Wei Wuzi. Their meaning was to use the example of “a petty person stops eating once his belly is full” to illustrate that “a noble person stops craving once inwardly satisfied.” The word zhu means “full,” and yan means “satisfied”: once full, one stops and takes no more.

Explanation of the Meaning

The mind’s desires are endless, while the belly’s capacity is limited. The mind must be empty for the many desires not to arise; the belly must be full for craving to cease of itself. To keep loyalty and trust in one’s heart and hold fast to simplicity is to have virtue filling one within.

The Spring and Autumn Annals is the name of the history of the state of Lu. Its records link events to days, days to months, months to seasons, and seasons to years. Since a year has four seasons, the work was called the Spring and Autumn Annals. The Son of Heaven had court historians, while the feudal lords had state historians: Chu called its history the Taowu, Jin called its Cheng, and Lu called its Spring and Autumn Annals. Confucius edited the work as a Classic, and Zuo Qiuming wrote a commentary on it, known as the Zuo Commentary on the Spring and Autumn Annals. The records begin in the forty-eighth year of King Ping of Zhou, the first year of Duke Yin of Lu (the year of the Fire Snake, with Jupiter in Jianglou). This corresponds to the second year of Duke E of Jin; the thirteenth year of Duke Huan, personal name Wan, of Wei; the twenty-eighth year of Duke Xuan, personal name Kaofu, of Cai; the twenty-second year of Duke Zhuang, personal name Wusheng, of Zheng; the thirty-fifth year of Duke Huan, personal name Zhongsheng, of Cao; and the year of Duke Xi of Qi, personal name Lufu (written “Lu” in the original).

A Plain-Language Commentary on the Expansive Sagely Commentary on the True Classic of the Dao and De

I. Overview of the Spring and Autumn Chronology

The events recorded in the Spring and Autumn Annals begin in the ninth year of King Wu of Chu, the forty-fourth year of Duke Wen of Qin, the seventh year of Duke Mu of Song, the twenty-third year of Duke Huan of Chen, and the eighteenth year of Duke Mu of Yan.

The record continues through the fourteenth year of Duke Ai of Lu, the thirty-ninth year of King Jing of Zhou, in the cyclical year wuwu. Altogether, this period spans 242 years and includes fourteen rulers of the Zhou dynasty and twelve rulers of Lu.

The rulers of the various states during this period and the lengths of their reigns were as follows:

The fourteenth year of Duke Ai of Lu was the year Confucius stopped writing after the capture of the qilin. The Spring and Autumn Annals ends there.

II. The Work’s Scope

The work comprises thirty volumes and a total of 352,025 characters: 194,590 characters of commentary and 157,966 characters of main text.

The commentator was Du Yu, courtesy name Yuankai, a general who served as Commissioner for Campaigns in the South under the Jin dynasty.

III. Historical Anecdote: Yan Mei and Ru Kuan Remonstrate with Wei Xianzi

Source: Spring and Autumn Annals, Duke Zhao, year 28

Background:

At the time, Wei Xianzi of Jin (Wei Shu) held power in government. He appointed his son Wei Wu as the local administrator of Gengyang, in the area of present-day Taiyuan, Shanxi. A legal dispute arose in Gengyang, and Wei Wu could not decide the case, so he referred it to Wei Xianzi. One party to the dispute offered beautiful women who were skilled musicians as a bribe, and Wei Xianzi considered accepting it.

Wei Wu said to Wei Xianzi, “Father, you are known among the feudal lords for refusing bribes. If you accept this bribe from Gengyang, it would be hard to imagine anything more corrupt. You must refuse it.” Wei Xianzi agreed.

The remonstrance:

After court, two of Wei Xianzi’s household retainers, Yan Mei and Ru Kuan, waited in the courtyard. When the meal was brought in, Wei Xianzi invited them to eat with him. As soon as the food was set out, the two men sighed three times.

After the meal, Wei Xianzi asked them to sit down and said:

“I have heard an old saying: ‘Only eating can make you forget your worries.’ From the moment the food was set out until you finished eating, you sighed three times. Why?”

They answered together:

“When someone gives two insignificant people like us a meal, if we cannot eat it that very evening, we go hungry. When the food was first brought out, we worried there would not be enough, so we sighed once. Halfway through the meal, we reflected: ‘Could the general’s food really be insufficient?’ So we sighed a second time. When the meal was over, we hoped to judge a gentleman’s generosity by our own small appetites. Knowing that you had already eaten your fill, we sighed for a third time.”

Outcome:

After hearing them, Wei Xianzi refused the bribe from Gengyang.

Meaning:

Yan Mei and Ru Kuan used their worry about not getting enough to eat as a metaphor, tactfully reminding Wei Xianzi that accepting a bribe was like greedily demanding more food, beneath the dignity of a gentleman. Wei Xianzi understood their meaning and declined the bribe.

A Historical Example at the Beginning

After the death of Wuzi of Wei, he was given the posthumous title “Wu.” Two senior ministers, Yan Mo and Ru Kuan, remonstrated with the new ruler, quoting Wuzi’s words: “May I take the belly of a petty person as the heart of a noble person.” A belly is easily filled, but the heart is hard to satisfy. They hoped the ruler would put an end to greed and refuse bribes from the Yang family. A petty person knows when to be content once his belly is full; a noble person’s heart should be the same. The Spring and Autumn Annals praises this deed, and Wei prospered because it was willing to accept remonstrance.

“Weaken their ambitions”

Brief note: When the heart is empty, ambitions and desires grow weak.

Explanation: “Ambition” is the heart in motion. All action comes from the heart, and the thoughts that arise there are called “ambitions.” The sage teaches people to remain soft and yielding, and understands that when the heart is empty and still, ambitions do not become assertive or overbearing.

Interpretation: The Preface to the Book of Songs says, “In the heart, it is called ambition.” When the heart is soft and yielding, there is no danger, agitation, or rivalry; everything is peaceful. Peaceful conduct is the foundation of cultivating oneself.

“Strengthen their bones”

Brief note: When the belly is full—free of reckless greed and rich in inner substance—the bones grow strong.

Explanation: The bones support the body. When De is abundant within and one is not constantly grasping, the belly is full; when the belly is full, the sinews and bones grow strong of themselves.

Interpretation: Weakening ambitions outwardly makes one modest and yielding, so one does not intrude upon others. Strengthening the bones inwardly makes one firm and prepared. For those who cultivate the Dao, strong sinews and bones make it difficult for illness to take hold. A full belly and strong bones are signs of abundant Jing and Qi. The same applies to governing a state: when government is clear, the people are calm; when expenses are reduced, their strength is ample. The people’s calm is “weak ambition”; their ample strength is “strong bones.”

“Always keep the people without knowledge and without desire”

Brief note: Always keep the people free of the “knowledge” that drives them to outdo one another or show off their cleverness, and free of greedy desires.

Explanation: The sage empties the heart and fills the belly so that the people do not compete for status or pursue greedily. This allows them to transform and develop of their own accord.

Interpretation: Greed gives rise to rivalry, and clever schemes give rise to trouble. When rivalry and desire are absent, clarity and stillness bring transformation on their own.

“Make those who have knowledge dare not act”

Brief note: Through clarity and stillness, all people are transformed and become free of knowledge and desire. Even if some clever and resourceful people remain, they will not dare to act recklessly.

Explanation: Once clarity and stillness have been established, with no knowledge and no desire, those who possess cunning and schemes can gradually be shaped by this influence, until they no longer follow the path of greed or use their cleverness to act recklessly.

Interpretation: Those below are transformed by those above, like grass bending before the wind. As simplicity and harmony spread everywhere, all return to Wuwei.

“Practice Wuwei, and nothing will remain unordered”

(According to the thread of meaning in this chapter, “to practice Wuwei” means to act through non-action, and then nothing will remain unordered.) The sage weakens ambitions, strengthens bones, keeps the people free of knowledge and desire, and makes those with knowledge dare not act. These steps build upon one another and finally lead to using Wuwei to bring everything to completion. For an individual, this means a peaceful life; in governing a state, it means that customs are transformed. This is how this passage develops the Dao De Jing’s teaching: “Practice Wuwei, and nothing will remain unordered.”

The sage acts through Wuwei (non-action), and the people each remain true to their nature. This is called the teaching of simplicity and sincerity, which inspires trust.

Acting in accordance with one’s nature may involve action, yet it comes close to non-action. When worthiness is not exalted and rare goods are not pursued, people keep to their proper roles and things preserve their true nature. If Wuwei is the guiding principle, what need is there to show it off? When it is soundless and scentless, people naturally neither recognize nor understand it. The simple way then prevails everywhere—who could still say that the world is not well governed?

The principle of Wuwei is vast indeed. Wuwei does not mean holding something back so it cannot come, pushing it so it cannot go, forcing it until it does not respond, stirring it until it does not move, making it rigid and stagnant, or gripping it so tightly that it cannot disperse. It means keeping private aims from intruding and public justice from being distorted; not letting desires become perverse; handling affairs by proper methods and following reason; and accomplishing things by making use of what is available. When matters are complete, one does not boast of oneself; when achievements are made, one does not claim the credit.

Water is crossed by boat, sand is sifted with a sieve, mud with a sled, and mountains with a wooden sledge. In summer, ditches are cleared; in winter, embankments are built. Fields are made on high ground and ponds in low places. These are not the “action” I mean: they are Wuwei. The sage’s Wuwei means following what is already there, entrusting tasks to those below, holding them accountable for results, and not overworking oneself. Plans contain no errors, and no task is overlooked. Words become models; actions become standards. Advancement and withdrawal accord with the moment, and movement and stillness follow what is reasonable. One does not cling to judgments of beauty or ugliness, nor let likes and dislikes determine rewards and punishments. Names are assigned to each thing as it is; each kind is put to its own use. All this arises naturally, rather than from oneself. One follows the seasons of Heaven, the nature of the land, and the people’s inclinations. Thus the ministers gather like spokes around a hub, and the capable and incapable alike are put to use according to their abilities. The ruler can direct the ministers, and the ministers can serve the ruler: this is the way of governing a state through Wuwei.

“Soundless and scentless” comes from “King Wen” in the “Major Odes of the Kingdom” of the Book of Songs: the Great Way is hard to perceive, beyond the reach of hearing and smell. By following King Wen’s example, the world will trust and follow of its own accord. “Neither recognize nor understand” comes from “Great Brightness” in the “Major Odes of the Kingdom” of the Book of Songs: people neither recognize the past nor understand the present, but follow Heaven’s model. This passage says that the Way of Heaven values sincerity and the natural character of things, rather than exalting the worthy or treasuring goods—just as this chapter teaches.

The Dao is empty, yet in using it… (Chapter Four)

(Explaining the previous chapter: when esteem and praise are set aside and Wuwei is practiced, the highest is attained…)

Chapter Four: Text, Commentary, and Exegesis (The Dao is empty, yet in using it…)

General meaning of the text: The Dao is empty, yet its use is inexhaustible. It is deep and unfathomable. Blunt its sharpness, untangle its knots, soften its light, and merge with its dust. It is profound, yet seems to exist. I do not know whose child it is; it seems to have been there before the Supreme Ruler.

Commentary: The Dao is empty at its root, yet its use is inexhaustible. The sage embodies it, and so blunts its sharpness, untangles its knots, softens its light, and merges with its dust.

Exegesis: “Empty” means void; “use” means putting into practice. Because it is empty yet can be put into practice, it is inexhaustible. Its depth cannot be measured, for it has no form or appearance that can be measured. Blunting sharpness means not esteeming weapons and warfare; untangling knots means not contending over fame and profit; softening one’s light means not displaying one’s own virtue; merging with the dust means not setting oneself apart from ordinary people. “Profound, yet seems to exist” means that although the Dao is empty, it is always present. “I do not know whose child it is” means that no one knows where it comes from. “It seems to have been there before the Supreme Ruler” means that the Dao precedes the Celestial Emperor: it was not made by the Emperor, but is the source of what arises naturally.

Plain-Language Interpretation

Main idea of this chapter: It explains that the wondrous source of the Dao lies in “functioning without Wuwei,” and highlights “the Dao is empty” as the guiding principle of utmost emptiness. It then explains “blunt its sharpness and untangle its knots,” and points to “what came before the Lord of Images,” so that readers may understand its intent.

Meaning: The function of the Great Dao is inexhaustible. In its vastness, it can encompass Heaven and Earth; in its subtlety, it can enter a single hair. Calm and self-contained, it is neither diminished nor filled to overflowing. Applied to the body, it blends light and dust into one; applied inwardly, it brings sharpness and disorder into harmony. It has endured through countless aeons and stands before the Lord of Images. Among the myriad things, only the Dao is worthy of being honored, for all that exists returns to it. (“Return” means to turn toward.)

“The Dao is empty, yet in use it seems never to be filled.”

Commentary: When the Dao sets things in motion, it gives rise to Qi that is empty and harmonious, by which it brings forth and sustains life. It is never filled to overflowing. The phrase “seems” is used because one cannot make definitive claims about the Dao.

“Deep and still, it seems the source of the myriad things.”

Commentary: “Deep” means profound and still. The Dao constantly gives life to the myriad things without becoming full. Its wondrous source is profound and silent, so it seems to be the sovereign source of all things.

Explanation: “Empty” refers to the Dao’s use of emptiness. Harmonious Qi is empty, and so it is the Dao’s function; through its functioning, the Dao gives life to the myriad things, which receive its beneficial work. Considered in terms of its achievement, things may wonder at its radiance and greatness. Considered in terms of its emptiness, the Dao is never filled to overflowing; its wondrous source is profound and still, and it is always the source of the myriad things. The commentary uses “seems” because the Dao has no fixed form, and so it does not speak of it directly. The rest can be understood in the same way.

Meaning: The Dao is always humble and never filled to overflowing. Empty harmony and clear calm reside within it; profound stillness makes it the source of things. When things lose the way of empty harmony, they are bound to suffer harm and perish. When people lose it, they approach death and extinction. When a ruler loses it, government falls into disorder and the people turn away. When a minister loses it, reputation is lost and the person is disgraced. From this we can see that all things rely on the way of empty harmony for their peace; it is the source of the myriad things. In its beneficial work upon things, the Dao is radiant and far-reaching; in its wondrous source, it is profound, still, and always empty. The Dao has no fixed form and cannot be directly described as existing, yet the Dao is present in all things. The rest can be understood in the same way, without making definitive claims.

“Blunt its sharpness; untangle its knots.”

Commentary: Because the Dao is empty and harmonious, it can restrain sharpness and disperse disorder.

“Use worldly learning to seek a return to one’s original nature, and you will only become more tightly bound.”

The commentary explains: “Blunt” and “suppress” mean to restrain; “sharp” means keen-edged; “explain” and “disperse” mean to dissolve. The function of emptiness and harmony is applied to the myriad things without going against them. Thus, when a sharp mind or troubling affairs arise, simply keeping the Dao in mind and holding to emptiness and harmony will naturally restrain and dissolve them. This shows how a simple principle can make the Dao’s function clear.

The annotation says that “worldly learning seeks a return” comes from the Zhuangzi, “Ingrained Tendencies”: cultivating one’s nature amid worldly life and using worldly learning in hopes of returning to one’s original state. Sharpness, disorder, and agitation all arise from desire. Keeping the Dao in mind blunts and dissolves them; clinging to worldly learning only binds them more tightly.

The explanation says: Governing a state through the way of emptiness and harmony means that no display of sharpness harms external things, and no wasteful burden harms the people. When external things are unharmed, the many states come to pay court and the peoples beyond the borders are transformed; arms are not raised, grievances do not arise, and there is no glorification of expanding territory or oppressing the weak. When the people are unharmed, labor is assigned at the proper times, taxes and services are light, and households have enough to live on. In cultivating oneself, one dissolves discord and blunts sharpness: outwardly, one does not contend or encroach; inwardly, one holds to clarity and emptiness. The spirit is at ease, the body is calm, and one lives peacefully and contentedly. “Use a concise principle to make the Dao clear” means that in governing others, one must first understand the Dao. The Zhuangzi, “Ingrained Tendencies,” speaks of worldly learning seeking a return to one’s beginnings: once people have been shaped by worldly life, they then try to use worldly learning to restore the root of their nature and life, but the more they seek, the farther they stray from the Dao. “Worldly learning binds ever more tightly” means that if a sharp mind and troubling affairs are not blunted and dissolved through the Dao, one becomes confined by worldly learning, ever more firmly bound and unable to break free. Worldly learning is learning that follows convention, not the way of daily reduction.

“Blend with its light; blend with its dust.”

The annotation says: The Dao is everywhere, yet wherever it is, it has no fixed location. In the midst of light, it becomes one with the light; in the midst of dust, it becomes one with the dust. “Light” and “dust” are only appearances; they are not two independently real things.

“So deep and still—yet it seems to exist.”

The annotation says: It blends with the light and is one with the dust, yet its wondrous root remains unmixed. Thus it is deep and still, and seems to have some presence.

The commentary says: The Dao’s emptiness and harmony, applied to the myriad things, are inexhaustible. It becomes one with the light in the midst of light and one with the dust in the midst of dust. It is everywhere, yet has no fixed location. Through emptiness and harmony, it can blend with light and dust; through its wondrous root, it remains serene and unmixed. Hence it is said to seem to exist.

The explanation says: The way of emptiness and harmony extends broadly to all living beings, open and unimpeded, with nothing that it cannot accommodate.

It does not exist in such a way, so it may be called “blending its light and mingling with the dust.” “Light” means clarity and visibility; “dust” means confusion and mixture with the ordinary world. One who has the Dao does not stand out by making a show of being different, but moves among everyone else like one of them. “Want” means scarcity. Although the Dao extends everywhere among living beings, its wondrous root is still, empty, and never lacking. That is why the scripture says, “it always remains.”

“I do not know whose child it is; it seems to precede the sovereign.”

Commentary: I do not know from what lineage the Dao was born. To understand that the Dao does not depend on some method of “birth” in order to exist is to see that it has no father. The Dao seems to have existed before the “sovereign.” The sovereign is the ruler who gives birth to and transforms the myriad things; “seems” means resemblance or a sign of what is to come.

Explication: “I” is Lao Jun’s (Laozi’s) way of referring to himself. “Seems” means resemblance. Lao Jun says: I see the Supreme Dao, through its function of harmony and openness, generating the myriad things. If one tries to trace this to its unfathomable source, the Dao has no “paternal lineage” to follow, so no one can say whose child it is. The myriad things depend on the Dao in order to arise, so it seems to precede the “sovereign.” The commentary says that the sovereign is the ruler of living things. The Book of Changes says, “The sovereign emerges from Zhen.” Wang Bi’s commentary on the Laozi says that the sovereign is the ruler of living things and the source of their flourishing and benefit. Another interpretation takes “seems” to mean “shows signs”: the sovereign who gives birth to and transforms the myriad things can reveal their forms in advance, and is therefore called the “seeming sovereign.”

Meaning: The sovereign is the ruler present from the beginning of all transformation. Once forms take shape, he governs them as a ruler; hence he is called the “seeming sovereign.” Through its function of harmony and openness, the Great Dao can generate and transform all things, and so it precedes the seeming sovereign. As a great sage, could Lao Jun truly not know the source of the Supreme Dao? He deliberately uses words that sound uncertain to awaken ordinary people who have lost their way. His intent is like that of the earlier statement that “the Dao cannot be spoken of directly.” The sovereign emerges from Zhen, as stated in the Appended Statements of the Book of Changes. Zhen is the eastern trigram, associated with the lesser Yang Qi and the source of generation and transformation. Today, the crown prince occupies the Eastern Palace, the position of lesser Yang, and rules the realm from there. This takes its image from the beginning of Heaven and Earth’s nurturing of the myriad things. “To show signs is to seem”: without form, there is Qi; when form begins to appear, there is an image. This is the beginning of living things. The beginning of the myriad things is preceded by the seeming sovereign, and the Great Dao precedes even the seeming sovereign: this speaks to the Dao’s great height and distance. The Supreme Dao has neither end nor beginning. Who can determine what comes before or after it? Such words are only an attempt to describe it. The Book of Changes says: “The sovereign emerges from Zhen, and the myriad things are born; they are brought to completion in Xun, and the myriad things become pure and orderly; they appear in Li, and the sage faces south and governs; service is rendered in Kun, and the myriad things receive nourishment.”

Modern Interpretation:

The Zhen trigram symbolizes the sprouting of all things, the beginning of their joyful growth. The Qian trigram symbolizes the contest between Yin and Yang, where the energies of Heaven and Earth clash with great force. The Kan trigram symbolizes all things returning to storage, the final destination of everything. The Gen trigram symbolizes the end of all things, showing that everything has both a beginning and an end.

All things are born from the Zhen trigram and ultimately return to the Gen trigram. After coming to an end, they begin again, cycling endlessly and bringing forth life without limit. The “image of the Lord”—the supreme image that governs all things—exists before anything sprouts from the Zhen trigram. The great Dao exists even before this image of the Lord, and so it can govern the transformation and creation of all things. It is the primal source and foundation of Heaven and Earth.

If a ruler models himself on the Dao and makes it the center of his heart, he will not be consumed by greed. His mind will be clear and still, enabling him to govern all under Heaven. He will not compete or contend with others outwardly, and will keep all disorder and disturbance from arising within. Following the light of Heaven to illuminate all things, he will remain open to the dust and grime of the world despite his exalted position. Through this practice of governing by Wuwei (non-action), he can attain a state equal to that of the image of the Lord.