《南華真經註疏》Vol. 15

The Dao of Heaven—the laws by which nature operates—runs without ceasing. It neither accumulates nor stagnates, and so all things come into being.

Commentary: Here, “runs” means to move and turn; “accumulates” means to stagnate or gather things up. The Dao of Heaven moves on, covering and nurturing all things: it shines on them with the sun and moon, moistens them with rain and dew, and sets them in motion and shapes them, never letting them stagnate. Thus the seasons cycle and all things grow.

The Dao of the Emperor—the way of governing the realm—runs without ceasing. It neither accumulates nor stagnates, and so the people of the realm come to him.

Commentary: The emperor takes Heaven and Earth as his models and governs all things. He puts teachings into practice without claiming power or benevolence as his own. Since his teaching has no fixed bounds, people from all directions turn their hearts toward him, and the people of the eight quarters come to join him.

The Dao of the sage runs without ceasing. It neither accumulates nor stagnates, and so people throughout the four seas submit to it.

Note: These three kinds of Dao follow the nature of all things, neither restraining them nor causing them to stand still.

Commentary: The Dao of the sage is the way followed by the Dark Sage and the Uncrowned King. The sage responds to the times and makes his presence known, establishes laws and teachings, guides those who are perceptive, and aids the countless beings in need. His Dao accords with Heaven, and his De is like that of an emperor. The distinction between the Dao of the Emperor and the Dao of the sage lies only in whether one acts in the world or apart from it. The sage uses wisdom to help his age, yet neither hoards nor holds on to anything. His compassion is boundless, and so people throughout the four seas submit to him.

One who understands the Dao of Heaven, accords with the Dao of the sage, can extend through the six directions—above and below, and the four quarters—responds to the changes of the four seasons, and possesses the De of an emperor lets everything he does follow its own nature. Outwardly, he appears dim and inactive; inwardly, he remains always at peace.

Note: By letting all things follow their own nature, one can extend through the six directions and respond to the four seasons without disturbing inner peace.

Commentary: “Extending in six directions” means above and below and the four quarters; “the four divisions” refers to spring, summer, autumn, and winter. Only by seeing the Wuwei of the Dao of Heaven, understanding the sage’s selfless mind, extending through the six directions to set creation and transformation in motion, and responding to the seasons to bring about change can one govern a realm of ten thousand chariots. This may be called the De of an emperor. Letting all things transform of themselves is called “acting of oneself.” The sage draws in his radiance and conceals his traces, appearing dim and inactive. His actions do not injure the stillness within him, and so he remains always at peace.

The sage’s peace does not come from believing that peace is good and deliberately maintaining it.

Note: If one maintains peace because one has decided that peace is good, there will be times when one becomes unsettled and turns to action.

Commentary: The sage is empty and still not because he deliberately makes his body like withered wood and his mind like dead ashes, nor because he consciously pursues peace. If he treats peace as something desirable and clings to maintaining it, he may at times become restless. Nothing among the myriad things can disturb his mind, and so he is naturally at peace.

This is a state that naturally arises from inner cultivation.

When water becomes still, it can clearly reflect a person’s features. When its surface is level, craftsmen use it as a standard for calibration. While water is moving, ripples form; only when it stops does it become clear and calm, like a suspended mirror reflecting all things and treating them equally. Because water is clear and level, it can be used to correct things that are crooked or out of alignment. Even the highly skilled craftsman Chui relies on still water to establish a level. That is why the Laozi says, “The highest good is like water.” Here, water serves as an illustration of the principle discussed above.

If still water can clearly reflect a person’s features, how much more can the spirit and mind of a sage, when calm, do so? The sage’s mind is like a bright mirror of Heaven and Earth, able to reflect all things.

With this capacity to see all things clearly, and by using it in accordance with their nature, the sage leaves nothing unclear in what is reflected.

The sage’s De accords with Heaven and Earth, and their wisdom extends throughout all things. How could this be compared with water, which has neither knowledge nor feeling? If still water can clearly reflect a person’s features, how much more can the spirit and mind of a sage, when calm, do so? It is only natural that the sage’s mind can discern the subtle workings of Heaven and Earth and reflect the profound and hidden aspects of all things. Water is used here as an analogy to explain how the sage’s mind becomes calm and clear.

Emptiness, stillness, tranquility, solitude, and Wuwei (non-action) are different expressions for the same reality: they are the foundation of harmony in Heaven and Earth and the highest state attainable through the cultivation of De. Anything that fails to be harmonious or reach this state results from deliberate effort and forced contrivance.

Thus, emperors and sages find rest in this state: they let the mind and spirit grow still and refrain from reckless movement.

When the mind and spirit are at rest, they become empty and still; within this emptiness and stillness, the inner self becomes full. To be full is to accord with the inherent order of things. Here, “full” means being in harmony with the natural order of things.

When the mind and spirit rest and are no longer disturbed, they naturally merge with emptiness. Merging with emptiness enables them to unite with reality. To unite with the Dao of reality is to accord with the natural order.

Emptiness and stillness bring stability; once stable, one can act. To act from a state of emptiness and stillness is to grasp the principles of things. The commentary explains that “attaining” means acting without losing sight of one’s fundamental basis.

When the mind is calm, it does not act recklessly. Without reckless action, people of every kind can use their abilities to the fullest, carry out their respective duties, and bear the responsibilities appropriate to them.

That is what it means for an emperor not to involve himself personally in specific affairs.

Commentary: Ministers each have their own offices and responsibilities. When the emperor exercises sound judgment while remaining calm and practicing Wuwei (non-action), ministers each perform their duties and take responsibility for them. The ruler practices Wuwei, while the ministers have work to do. Though the ruler wears the ceremonial crown with its hanging jade beads, he need not personally concern himself with affairs.

One who practices Wuwei is calm and content, undisturbed by troubles, and lives a long life.

Note: “Yuyu” describes a calm, contented manner.

Commentary: “Yuyu” conveys calmness and ease. Active striving makes one liable to be entangled by external things, exhausting the mind and spirit. Wuwei allows one to be content within oneself, so troubles cannot unsettle the mind. With a calm and easy state of mind, one lives a long life.

Emptiness, stillness, tranquility, detachment, and Wuwei are the root of all things.

Note: Tracing all things back to their source, we find that they all come from Wuwei.

Commentary: These four phrases describe the root of all things. The text therefore restates the earlier idea to sum up the benefits of Wuwei.

Understand this principle, and you can occupy the ruler’s position, as Yao did; understand this principle, and you can serve as a minister, as Shun did.

Commentary: No one surpassed Tang Yao and Yu Shun in the virtue of abdication, and their relationship as ruler and minister is likewise a model. The text therefore cites these two rulers to illustrate the four qualities of emptiness, stillness, and the like. Though one held the throne facing south and the other served as a minister facing north, both embodied the same principle.

To occupy the highest position through this principle is the virtue of an emperor and Son of Heaven; to occupy a lower position through it is the Way of the Dark Sage and Uncrowned King.

Note: These are the highest expressions of Wuwei. Someone who possesses virtue but no title, yet wins the allegiance of all under Heaven, is called an “Uncrowned King.” What makes such a person worthy is their own virtue.

Commentary: To stand above all things through the Way of Wuwei is the virtue of the Son of Heaven and Emperor Yao. To serve as a minister through the Way of emptiness, stillness, and tranquility is the Way of the Dark Sage and Uncrowned King. Those who possess the Way but have no title are what is meant by the Dark Sage and Uncrowned King. The commentary cites the Venerable Lord (Laozi) and Master Ni (Confucius) as examples: though they held no imperial titles, their virtue made their nobility shine forth.

To withdraw from the world and wander freely through this principle is to win the allegiance of hermits in the rivers, seas, and mountains.

Commentary: To withdraw means to conceal one’s traces, live in seclusion, and decline public office. One who withdraws through this Way can roam among mountains and waters, at ease and untroubled. Thus all hermits under Heaven are won over; Chao Fu and Xu You are examples.

To enter public life and govern the affairs of the world through this principle is to accomplish great deeds, make one’s name renowned, and bring all under Heaven into unity.

Note: This is a lesser course. Thus, those who withdrew from the world included men like Chao Fu and Xu You; those who entered public life included men such as Yi… (The original text ends here.)

Figures such as Yi Wang—Yi Yin and Lü Wang, or Jiang Taigong—understood the vastness of the Dao of Wuwei. What in all under heaven could not then be governed well? Thus, when the ruler does not personally take on the duties of the chief minister, Yi Yin, Lü Wang, and others can serve with composure. When the chief minister does not take over the affairs assigned to the other officials, each official can fulfill their own duties. When officials do not take upon themselves the concerns of the people and the work the people should do, the people can live securely and tend to their own lives. And when people do not replace one another or alter what others are skilled at, everyone in the world can live in harmony and find their proper place.

So, from the Son of Heaven to ordinary people, and even insects, who can accomplish everything through their own efforts? For this reason, the more one practices Wuwei, the more highly one is revered.

Commentary: Here, “advancing into action” means making oneself visible by taking office and serving. Inwardly, the sage embodies Wuwei; outwardly, they adapt to the world and make themselves visible. Through benevolence, they enable the people to live in health and to a ripe old age, and they spread the highest Virtue throughout a wise and enlightened court. Their achievements are unfathomable, while their record of assisting the ruler is clear and distinguished. Thus, all under heaven becomes unified; carriage tracks and written characters are made uniform; and goodness and beauty reach their highest form. Perhaps only figures such as Yi Yin and Lü Wang could accomplish this.

In stillness, one is a sage; in action, a king.

Commentary: Act when the time calls for action, and stop when the time calls for stopping.

Through Wuwei, one is revered.

Commentary: By following the natural course of things, one can be honored and supported by all beings.

Commentary: In stillness and Wuwei, one possesses the dignity of the Dark Sage and the Plain King—the virtue of a sage ruler without the title of king. When one acts in response to the time, one enjoys the honor of ruling all under heaven and holding the power of the Son of Heaven, symbolized by ten thousand chariots. Through Wuwei, one can be revered: while serving, one may become the Son of Heaven; in retreat, one may be a Plain King. Where the Dao is present, who would dare fail to honor it?

Simple and unadorned, nothing under heaven can compete with its beauty.

Commentary: Only simplicity can possess a beauty worthy of matching Heaven.

Commentary: Sincerity, simplicity, Wuwei, and stillness are in truth the root of all things. Who could rival the beauty of this state, so worthy of honor and esteem?

To understand the Virtue of Heaven and Earth is to grasp the great root and the great source, and to be in harmony with Heaven.

Commentary: Heaven and Earth take Wuwei as their Virtue. Understand their root and purpose, and you will not go against them.

Commentary: When the mind is clear and still, and the spirit bright and pure, one’s Virtue accords with Heaven and Earth. Such a person can naturally become a teacher to the people and a root for all beings, aligning with the Dao of nature and living in harmony with Heaven.

This is the way to bring balance to the world and live in harmony with others.

Commentary: Only by following the Dao of Heaven can one respond to people. When harmony with Heaven reaches its fullest, harmony among people is fully realized as well.

Commentary: “Balance” means fairness; “harmony” means smooth accord. Responding to things as they affect one, without private intention, is as natural as a shadow following a form or an echo answering a sound.

The Great Dao brings all things into balance, follows their inherent natures, blends into the world, and lives among people. In this way, it can dwell in harmony with them.

Harmony with people is called “human joy”; accord with the Way of Heaven is called “heavenly joy.”

Commentary: Heavenly joy accords with nature, and human joy is thereby fulfilled.

Exegesis: Bending down to blend with the common world is a way of accommodating the joys of human life. Looking upward and attuning oneself to nature is what brings delight in the joy of Heaven’s Way.

Zhuangzi said, “My Teacher! My Teacher! It mingles all things in confusion, yet is never cruel.”

Commentary: All things change and intermingle, which is why they are said to be mingled in confusion. This is change arising within things themselves; it is not because my Teacher is cruel and violent.

Exegesis: The character fen means to break apart and become jumbled; li means violence or cruelty. Zhuangzi takes the natural, ultimate Dao as his teacher and praises it again and again, admiring its Virtue: the Great Dao I follow nourishes all living things. Even when it brings about their varied transformations, it does not intend to do them violence. Thus, when autumn Qi causes plants and trees to wither, they do not resent it. This shows that even when things are cut down or damaged, it is not the Dao’s deliberate intention.

Its grace reaches across the generations, yet it does not claim the name “benevolence.”

Commentary: “Benevolence” is the name given to universal love. The Great Dao has no partial love, so there is nothing to call “benevolence.”

Exegesis: Benevolence is the outward expression of partial affection. The Great Dao brings Heaven and Earth into being and nurtures all living things. Its grace is boundless, yet it favors no one, and so it does not claim the name “benevolence.”

It existed before antiquity, yet does not claim the name “longevity.”

Commentary: “Longevity” is simply a name for a very long lifespan. The Great Dao has no lifespan, so there is nothing to call “longevity.”

Exegesis: The Great Dao not only predates antiquity; it even predates the Heavenly Emperor. It is neither born nor destroyed, so how could one speak of its dying young or living long? Guo Xiang’s commentary says, “Longevity simply means having a long span of time.”

It covers and bears Heaven and Earth, shaping the forms of all things, yet does not claim the name “skill.”

Commentary: “Skill” means the refinement displayed in human contrivance. Since all things take shape naturally, there is nothing to call “skill.”

Exegesis: Through the workings of Heaven and Earth, the Great Dao covers and bears all things, and gives each its own form. Yet Heaven and Earth accomplish their work by bringing forth and transforming things, while all things function by following their natural course. Such transformation needs no outside aid. And in shaping all things, why would it need someone else to take charge? Each thing fulfills its own capacity, and each person follows their own nature; the distinction between skillful and clumsy then disappears. Guo Xiang’s commentary says, “Skill means the refinement displayed in human contrivance.”

This is called “heavenly joy.”

Commentary: Forget the deliberate pursuit of joy, and joy will be complete of its own accord.

Exegesis: Wherever one finds oneself, following nature and accepting what comes brings heavenly joy.

Thus, those who understand heavenly joy follow the natural course of things while alive, and accompany the transformations of all things after death.

Exegesis: Once we understand that heavenly joy is not sorrow and happiness in the worldly sense, we also know that life and death are simply transformations. There is no need to cling to either life or death.

When it is born, it accords with the workings of the Dao; when it dies, it merges into the transformations of all things. In stillness, its virtue accords with Yin energy; in movement, its workings respond to Yang energy.

[Commentary] The subtle essence is empty, still, and settled, reaching the same quiet and detached state as utmost Yin. When it manifests outwardly and responds to worldly affairs, it accords with the sun’s course and moves along with the flux of all things.

Thus, one who understands the joy of Heaven—the peace that comes from following the Dao—does not incur Heaven’s blame, draw criticism from people, become entangled by external things, or suffer punishment from spirits and gods.

[Commentary] Virtue accords with the Dao, so there is no blame from Heaven; one’s actions follow the ways of the world, so there is no criticism from people. One’s own being merges with all things, so external things cannot entangle it. Having wronged neither the unseen realm nor the human world, what punishment could spirits and gods inflict?

Thus it is said: in movement, one is like Heaven; in stillness, like Earth.

[Note] Though movement and stillness differ, both are free of intention.

[Commentary] Heaven and Earth are used here as metaphors to show that both movement and stillness arise without intention.

When the mind and spirit are focused and settled, one can govern the world; ghosts and spirits cannot wreak havoc, and the hun and po souls do not grow weary.

[Note] Because one is always free of intention, one can govern the world without feeling wearied or exhausted.

[Commentary] When the mind and wisdom become one, this is called “unity”; when external things cannot disturb them, this is called “settledness.” It is precisely because the mind is focused and settled that one can govern the myriad states. Since there is no punishment from spirits and gods, what calamity could come to wreak havoc? Even while acting, the mind remains continually still, so the hun and po souls do not grow tired.

When the mind and spirit are focused and settled, all things submit.

[Commentary] The mind and spirit are concentrated and still, like dead ashes. Though they settle into stillness, they can quiet what is agitated, and so all things submit.

To use an empty and still mind to seek the principles of Heaven and Earth and understand the nature of all things is called the joy of Heaven.

[Note] When my mind is always still, the minds of all things can connect with mine. When we connect, all things submit; when we cannot connect, they turn away.

[Commentary] The mind and spirit are focused and settled, and all things submit because one uses empty, still wisdom to seek the principles governing Heaven and Earth and to understand the nature of all things. One responds as things change while remaining wholly in accord with them; this is therefore called the joy of Heaven.

The joy of Heaven is the state of mind that sages use to nurture the world.

Why do sages nurture the world with this state of mind? It is for the sake of the joy of Heaven.

[Commentary] Sages appear in the world and live among ordinary people, in harmony with the supreme joy of Heaven and Earth, in order to nurture the people and let all things each fulfill their life.

The virtue of emperors and kings takes Heaven and Earth as its foundation, Dao and De as its guide, and Wuwei (non-action) as its constant way.

[Commentary] Emperors and kings take Heaven and Earth as their foundation, so, like Heaven and Earth, they cover and sustain all things without self-interest. They take Dao and De as their guide, causing all things to grow without claiming them as their own. Even amid countless transformations, they remain…

A ruler like Yao, who took Wuwei (non-action) as the highest virtue, was precisely such a ruler.

When the ruler practices Wuwei, he can govern the world and still have time to spare.

[Note] “Time to spare” means being at ease and unhurried.

If the ruler takes action himself, he will be made a servant of the affairs of the world, too busy to keep up with them.

[Note] “No time to spare” means being busy and hurried, eager to be put to work by external things. If the ruler devotes himself to serving external things,

he will be made a servant of his ministers. Even in the role of a minister, one can still be at ease and have time to spare.

[Commentary] “No time to spare” means being busy and pressed; “time to spare” means being at ease and unhurried. The point here is that the ruler practices Wuwei, governing the world through clear insight and an open mind, and so remains at ease. Ministers take action themselves. Their judgment and abilities are limited, and each bears a particular responsibility, working for the ruler. They diligently fulfill their duties without slackening, yet still fear they have not done enough. This shows how sharply Wuwei and action differ in terms of labor and ease.

Thus the ancients valued Wuwei. If those above practice Wuwei and those below do the same, then those below will share the same De (Virtue/Power) as those above. If those below share the same De as those above, they can no longer be ministers. If those below take action and those above do likewise, then those above will follow the same path as those below. If those above do the same work as those below, they can no longer be rulers.

[Note] A craftsperson does not carve wood with their own hands, but uses an axe; a ruler does not handle every specific affair personally, but appoints ministers. Ministers can carry out tasks themselves, while rulers can appoint ministers; an axe can carve wood, while a craftsperson can use an axe. Each makes use of their own strengths, in keeping with the natural order, without contrivance or forced action. If a ruler does the ministers’ work for them, he ceases to be a ruler; if ministers take hold of the ruler’s authority, they cease to be ministers. Therefore, when each is responsible for their proper role, ruler and ministers, those above and those below, can each find their proper place, and the principle of Wuwei reaches its fullest expression.

[Commentary] Wuwei is the ruler’s virtue; taking action is the ministers’ duty. If both those above and those below practice Wuwei, ministers will encroach on the ruler’s responsibilities. If both personally take action, the ruler will become indistinguishable from a minister. A ruler who becomes indistinguishable from a minister ceases to be a ruler; and if ministers usurp the ruler’s virtue, how can they still be called ministers? In this way, the roles above and below become confused and the duties of ruler and ministers are thrown into disorder. This violates the natural order and must bring calamity. Therefore, the phrase “Wuwei” must be understood with care. Wuwei is how a ruler ought to act. The ancients valued Wuwei. Guo Xiang’s commentary on this passage is clear in both its wording and its reasoning.

Those above must practice Wuwei and appoint the people of the world; those below must take action and serve the world. This is an unchangeable principle.

[Note] The phrase “Wuwei” must be understood with care. To appoint the people of the world does not mean taking no action at all; it means acting in accordance with one’s nature, and is therefore called …

A ruler in the upper position should govern through Wuwei (non-action), entrusting affairs to ministers to handle. Ministers in lower positions, by contrast, should attend to matters themselves and fulfill their respective duties. Thus, even when Shun and Yu served as ministers, they were said to have “acted.” In the relationship between ruler and ministers above and below, the ruler remains still while the ministers take action. Across the changes of past and present, Yao and Shun practiced non-action, while Tang of Shang and King Wu of Zhou took action. Yet so long as each follows their own nature and lets the workings of Heaven emerge naturally, who—whether in ancient or modern times, above or below—can be said to act deliberately and forcefully?

A ruler in the upper position must practice non-action, appoint others, and draw upon the abilities of people throughout the realm. A minister in a lower position should likewise handle affairs personally and fulfill the duties entrusted to them. In this way, the realm can be governed. This is the constant way that rulers of every age should follow.

The ancient kings who ruled the realm had wisdom enough to discern Heaven and Earth, yet did not personally plan and labor over affairs. This refers to simple and dignified rulers such as the Three Kings and Five Emperors: their wisdom was so clear and far-reaching that it could encompass Heaven and Earth, yet they ruled through Wuwei, sitting with hands folded and robes hanging, and leaving affairs to their ministers. The wise made the plans, so the ruler had no need to deliberate personally.

Their eloquence was sufficient to embellish the myriad things, yet they did not praise them themselves. This means that even if a ruler had expansive eloquence and could add refinement to the myriad things, they left this work to those responsible for governing and never came forward to proclaim it themselves.

Their abilities were sufficient to reach throughout the four seas, yet they did not act personally. For those in the upper position, the essential thing is to avoid failing at Wuwei and instead taking over the ministers’ work. If they kept Gao Yao, the legendary worthy minister in charge of justice, from exercising his clear judgment, and Hou Ji, the legendary official in charge of agriculture, from carrying out sowing and cultivation, then people of every ability would be unable to fulfill their roles, and the ruler would be trapped in affairs. The ruler should therefore govern with folded hands, entrusting matters to the people of the realm so that each can act according to their abilities. This is Wuwei, through which nothing is left undone. Both those above and those below may be said to practice non-action: the ruler’s non-action consists in appointing ministers; the ministers’ non-action consists in following their duties and acting naturally.

If the ruler appoints people of exceptional skill and ability as assistants, yet does not take part in the details of their work, what is there for the ruler to do? Simply remain still and practice Wuwei. Thus the Laozi says, “This is called drawing on the strength of others.”

Heaven does not deliberately produce things, yet the myriad things transform and come forth of themselves. Earth does not deliberately nurture them, yet the myriad things grow of themselves. The commentary says that this is what it means for the myriad things to be as they naturally are.

Heaven has no intention of producing, yet the myriad things come forth through transformation. Earth does not set its mind on bringing about their growth, yet they grow and are nourished. Guo Xiang’s commentary explains that this is what is meant by the natural.

Emperors and kings practice Wuwei, yet the accomplishments of the realm are achieved. The commentary says that these accomplishments are achieved by ministers and the people.

Rulers model themselves on Heaven and Earth, which encompass and nurture the myriad things. They follow the course of the seasons in administering affairs and entrust the practical work to their ministers.

All things can develop according to their own nature, and so the many achievements of the world come to fruition naturally.

Therefore, nothing is more wondrous than Heaven, nothing more abundant than Earth, and nothing more exalted than the position of the ruler.

The sun and moon alternate between brightness and darkness. Clouds, thunder, wind, and rain nourish all things and cover the four directions; their transformations are beyond measure. Therefore, nothing is more wondrous than Heaven. Earth encompasses rivers and plains, holds mountains and waterways, and bears all things without end. Therefore, nothing is more abundant than Earth. The ruler occupies the highest position, and his authority extends throughout a realm of ten thousand chariots. Beneath the light of the sun and moon, one person governs all under Heaven. No one has surpassed the greatness of his merit and virtue—not even the sage kings of antiquity. That is why the Laozi says, “There are four great things in the world, and the king is one of them.”

Therefore, the ruler’s virtue should be in accord with Heaven and Earth.

[Commentary] This means that it should accord with the Wuwei (non-action) of Heaven and Earth.

[Explanation] “In accord” means to correspond. Here, the sage’s virtue is said to correspond to the principle of Heaven and Earth’s Wuwei.

This is the principle of following Heaven and Earth, directing the myriad things, and making use of the people’s strength.

[Explanation] Understanding that Heaven and Earth cover and bear the myriad things without ruling over them, the sage follows their workings and moves with the changes of Yin-Yang Qi (vital energy). In this way, each thing can serve its proper use, and the abilities of the people can be put to work. This is the principle of making use of the people’s strength.

The root is above; the lesser details are below.

[Explanation] “Root” refers to Dao and De; “lesser details” refers to benevolence and righteousness. Dao and De are pure and simple, and form the basis of governance; they were practiced in antiquity. Benevolence and righteousness are shallow by comparison and belong to the lesser details of governance; they were practiced in later ages. Hence the saying: the root is above, and the lesser details are below.

The essential duties belong to the ruler; the complex affairs belong to the ministers.

[Explanation] “Essential” means simple and spare; “detailed” means numerous and complex. The ruler’s duties should be peaceful and simple, while the ministers’ duties should be laborious and complex. Ministers handle the many affairs and devote themselves to serving the ruler; the ruler keeps to what is simple and governs the ministers through Wuwei.

Mobilizing the three armies and using the five weapons are lesser measures adopted after rule by virtue has declined.

[Explanation] The five weapons are the bow, staff, spear, halberd, and dagger-axe. “Mobilize” means to put into use. In an enlightened age, arms are laid aside and civil instruction is promoted. When virtue declines, civil instruction is abandoned and military training takes its place. Resorting to arms brings warfare through the five weapons. When war is brought to an end and civil instruction is promoted, the people can live in peace and contentment. From this we can see that rule by virtue has both a fundamental and a lesser form.

Teaching the people through rewards and punishments, benefits and harms, and the Five Punishments is also a lesser form of instruction.

[Explanation] Rewards include carriages, clothing, official rank, and honors; these are benefits. Punishments include execution, bodily injury, and humiliation; these are harms. “Penal laws” refers to criminal penalties. The Five Punishments are nose cutting, facial tattooing with ink, foot amputation, castration, and execution. When morality has collapsed and social customs have declined, deceit grows more severe, and punishments are then established to restrain the people. This has already departed from the foundations of governance and can only be considered a lesser form of instruction.

Ritual codes, institutions, measures, forms, titles and ranks, comparison, and examination are all secondary details of governance.

Explanation: Ritual codes are the rules governing the Five Rites, the ceremonial system of ancient times. “Measures” means calculation, and “standards” means measuring dimensions. “Form” refers to appearance and conduct; “title” refers to appellations and designations. “Comparison” means checking things against one another, while “examination” means reviewing and assessing them. Using these methods to care for the people and govern the world has already departed from the simplicity of ancient ways. That is why they are called secondary details of governance.

The sounds of bells and drums, and the appearance of feathered banners and instruments decorated with animal hair, are secondary details of music.

Explanation: Music brings things into harmony. Feathers are from birds, and animal hair is used for the banners. Here, the text describes decorating instruments with bird feathers and animal hair. Rulers created music to harmonize those below with those above, bring Yin and Yang into accord, and harmonize customs. In ancient times, people could hear music and know whether a state was flourishing or declining, and whether the world was at peace or in disorder, because the tones of music differed from one age to another. The most sublime music, then, accords with Heaven and Earth; it does not lie in external adornments such as feathers, bells, and drums.

After the three dynasties of Xia, Shang, and Zhou, shallow and frivolous customs arose one after another. People prized the decadent music of Zheng and Wei, yet abandoned the refined melodies of Yunshao, the ancient court music. Feathers and colorful decorations were then used to make the presentation grand. This was no longer the essence of Xianchi, the legendary music of antiquity, but only a later offshoot of the music of the Pu River, said to have been lascivious and decadent.

Weeping, wearing hemp mourning clothes, and the distinctions in the weight of mourning garments are all secondary details of grief.

Explanation: “Dí” is a hemp band tied around the head or waist; “shuāi” carries the meaning of being wounded by grief. The garment worn on the upper body is called “shuāi,” and the lower garment “cháng”; hemp bands are tied around both the head and waist. “Greater and lesser” refers to the degrees of weight in ritual regulations. Mourning dress is divided into five grades: zhancui, zicui, dagong, xiaogong, and sima. Weeping and the wearing of garments also differ according to these grades. These are all outward observances left behind by cultural instruction, not feelings that arise naturally from within. That is why they are called secondary details of grief.

These five kinds of secondary detail all emerge only after the spirit has been put to work and the mind has been stirred.

Commentary: The spirit and the workings of the mind—the capacities and deliberations within—are the root of the five kinds of secondary detail. When one lets one’s nature run its natural course, the five outward forms of ritual need no deliberate effort; they will take shape on their own.

Explanation: “Shu” means capacity; what the mind is capable of is called the workings of the mind. The spirit and the workings of the mind are the root of the five kinds of secondary detail. In other words, these five details must follow once spirit and mind act in accordance with their nature; they are not produced by deliberate affectation.

The study of secondary details existed among the ancients, but it was not the most fundamental thing.

Commentary: “First” means fundamental.

Explanation: The ancients referred to here are those of the middle antiquity. “First” means fundamental. In middle antiquity, there was already a study of the five kinds of secondary detail, but such practices involved shallowness and pretense, and ultimately were not fundamental.

The ruler takes precedence, and the ministers follow; the father takes precedence, and the son follows; the elder brother takes precedence, and the younger brother follows; the older person takes precedence...

The young follow the old; men go before women, and husbands before wives.

Distinctions of rank and order of precedence are the constant principles by which Heaven and Earth operate.

Note: Although the order of precedence discussed here belongs to human affairs, it all has its roots in ultimate principle; the sages did not devise it on their own.

Commentary: The operation of Heaven and Earth has an order of precedence: spring and summer come first, autumn and winter follow, and the four seasons proceed in succession. Even Heaven and Earth, so vast, have distinctions of rank. How much more should there be an order of precedence among human relationships? Therefore, the sages took as their model the transformations brought about by the Yin and Yang energies of Heaven and Earth—their two fundamental forces—and observed the natural course of the four seasons. In this way, they upheld the great principle governing ruler and minister and set right the essential principles of the relationship between father and son.

Heaven is high and Earth is low: this is the place assigned by the divine powers. Spring and summer come first, autumn and winter follow: this is the order in which the four seasons proceed.

Commentary: Heaven high and Earth low is an unalterable arrangement; spring before winter makes the order clear. These two examples suffice to explain the principles of all things.

All things change and grow; the signs of their sprouting differ, and their forms vary.

Commentary: The changes of all things never cease. Some flourish, some decline; some suddenly come into being, others suddenly die. The myriad kinds differ in color and category; their signs of sprouting are distinct, and each has its own form.

Flourishing and decline, growth and withering, are all stages in the flow of change.

Commentary: In spring and summer, all things flourish and grow; in autumn and winter, they wane and wither. Some pass from life to death; others, through transformation, become something new. This is simply the nature of things, not the result of anyone’s deliberate arrangement. Thus, when one follows the flow of change and lets all things develop naturally, everything that takes shape accords with what is fitting.

The workings of Heaven and Earth are supremely wondrous, yet they still have an order of rank and precedence. How much more so must this be true of the principles governing human life?

Note: Distinctions of rank and order of precedence are essential to things as they are.

Commentary: The Yin and Yang of Heaven and Earth give life to all things through powers too profound to fathom. Even the most wondrous transformations among the things of Heaven and Earth have distinctions of rank and precedence. How much more must this be true of the Way governing human relationships?

Ancestral temple rites observe degrees of kinship; the court observes rank; the village observes age; and in the conduct of affairs, the worthy are appointed. This is the order of the Great Dao.

Note: These principles are not merely those upheld in human relationships.

Commentary: Ancestral temple rites are of great importance. They must follow the order of the ancestral line, distinguishing generations and arranging their succession, and so they observe degrees of kinship. The court distinguishes rank through official position and noble title; the village establishes precedence by age; and in conducting affairs, worthy people are selected for office. These principles are all necessary, which is why they are called the order of the Great Dao.

To discuss principle while violating its proper order is not the true Dao.

Those who discuss principles but do not understand what comes first and what follows may speak at length, yet in the end they do not speak of the Dao. Once their words lose their proper order, they cannot be used to govern things. If they speak of the Dao but what they speak of is not the Dao, how can they find a way to follow it?

Note: The key to finding a way lies in grasping the proper order of things.

Commentary: If one does not understand what comes first and what follows, then even when discussing the Dao, one will not speak of the Dao. How, then, can one find a way to follow it? Would not one’s principles become biased and crooked?

Thus, those in ancient times who understood the Great Dao first explained the Way of Heaven, and only then spoke of De.

Note: Heaven means nature. When the principles of nature are understood, all things can each find their proper way.

Commentary: This again explains the proper sequence of the Great Dao. Those in ancient times who understood the Great Dao first understood the principles of nature. Since nature is the foundation of De, De comes next.

Once De has been explained, one may then speak of benevolence and righteousness.

Note: When all things each find their proper way, they can live in harmony and fitting accord, each at ease in its place.

Commentary: Benevolence is discussed only after De has been lost, and righteousness only after benevolence has been lost. Thus benevolence and righteousness come next.

Once benevolence and righteousness have been explained, one may then speak of each keeping to one’s proper place.

Note: When the principles of things each find what is fitting for them, the myriad things will not lose their respective places.

Commentary: After putting into practice the benevolence of universal care and understanding righteousness as the clear distinction between right and wrong, the next step is to have each keep to their proper place, without competing with or seizing from one another.

Once the principle of each keeping to one’s proper place has been explained, one may then speak of form and name—that is, physical form and assigned status.

Note: When each thing keeps to its proper place, its name will correspond to its form.

Commentary: Form means the human body. Once each keeps to their proper place and no one oppresses or competes with another, people should next be encouraged to cultivate themselves and thereby establish a good name.

Once form and name have been explained, one may then speak of following and employing things according to their nature.

Note: At this point, no further change is needed.

Commentary: Even when people are encouraged to cultivate themselves and establish a good name, they must follow each person’s original place and let things proceed naturally. One must not distort their nature or disguise their feelings merely to win a reputation.

Once following and employing things according to their nature has been explained, one may then speak of pardon and remission.

Note: When each thing takes on its own responsibility, its offenses can be forgiven.

Commentary: Pardon means forgiveness; remission means reducing or waiving a penalty. Even when all things are allowed to follow their natures and fulfill their respective roles, some may still overstep their proper bounds and commit errors. One should therefore extend generous kindness and pardon their offenses.

Once pardon and remission have been explained, one may then speak of right and wrong.

Note: To accord with one’s nature is right; to depart from one’s nature is wrong.

Commentary: Even after errors have been pardoned and penalties reduced, people’s sense of right and wrong may gradually grow weak. What comes next, then, is to make right and wrong clear, so that they may serve as a lesson and a warning.

Once right and wrong have been explained, one may then speak of reward and punishment.

Note: Reward and punishment are recompense for gain and loss. At the highest level, the Way of governance is rooted in…

Once right and wrong have been clearly distinguished, good and evil, what is worthy and what is unworthy, become apparent on their own. The people are then encouraged by rewarding good conduct and punishing evil conduct.

Once rewards and punishments are clear, the wise and the foolish each find their proper place, and people of different ranks can all settle in positions suited to them.

Commentary: Officials at every level should be matched to their abilities.

Explanation: Administering rewards and punishments according to the principles outlined above, and arranging affairs of government in proper order, is a wise approach to governance. Brightness and obscurity, security and placement each have their proper measure. Abilities vary, as do social ranks, and everyone should be placed where they belong.

The virtuous and wise, as well as those who are not, each act according to their own nature.

Commentary: Each person should do what they are capable of doing.

Explanation: The virtuous and worthy are wise, while those who fall short are comparatively foolish. “Follow” means to continue or to conform to something. When the ruler is wise and guides the people through sound instruction, those of different abilities can all act in accordance with their own nature. They need not abandon themselves to imitate others, nor boast or display their abilities.

People’s different abilities must be distinguished.

Commentary: Do not let people exchange the duties they were originally assigned.

Explanation: People have different temperaments, just as things differ from one another. Skills and abilities are naturally distinct, so talent and its proper use must also be distinguished. People should be assigned appropriately, as one would choose the right tool for each task.

Action must accord with one’s title and role.

Commentary: A title and role should correspond to reality. Acting according to one’s title and role therefore keeps actual circumstances in order.

Explanation: Titles indicate what is real, and titles themselves must be established on the basis of reality. If reality and title do not correspond, the title exceeds what is real. The instruction to act according to one’s title and role means that name and reality should match.

Use these principles to serve the ruler, govern subordinates, govern all things, and cultivate oneself.

Explanation: “Use” means to put into practice. The nine principles discussed above can guide a minister in serving the ruler, and a ruler in governing subordinates. They can be applied outwardly to govern all things and inwardly to cultivate oneself.

Do not put clever schemes into practice. Instead, accord with nature. This is called Great Peace, and it is governance brought to perfection.

Explanation: The ruler remains quiet and practices Wuwei (non-action), leaving governmental affairs to the ministers. Rather than intervening through sharp senses or clever schemes, the ruler follows what is natural. Such a ruler may be called a ruler of Great Peace, and this governance reaches the highest excellence.

Thus the Book says, “There are forms and names.” The ancients did indeed use forms and names as means of governance, but they are not the foundation of the Way of governance.

Explanation: “First” means fundamental. Methods of governance such as forms and names are practices the sages left for responding to particular circumstances. They are used only when necessary and are not fundamental in themselves. The Book refers to Daoist writings, but these texts passed through the Qin dynasty’s book burning, and their exact sources are now difficult to establish.

Those who spoke of the Great Dao in ancient times underwent five transformations before they spoke of forms and names, and nine before they spoke of rewards and punishments.

Commentary: From “first understand Heaven” to speaking of forms and names, there are five successive stages; to speaking of rewards and punishments, there are nine. This is the natural order, proceeding from the root to the branches.

The principles of governing a state must change with the rise and decline of the age. Customs may be simple and generous or corrupt and shallow, so governance may be lenient and accommodating or strict and urgent. The methods of governance have undergone five changes and nine changes, each of which can be illustrated and discussed. So long as their proper order is not disrupted, they represent the best form of governance in an age of peace and prosperity.

Those who rush to discuss titles, institutions, and laws without understanding the foundations of governance put the branches before the roots. “Rushing” means acting hastily and impatiently. People in a declining age do not understand the proper order of human relationships. They hastily discuss titles and institutions, treating them as methods of governance, but fail to grasp that the “nine changes” should follow the natural order. They recognize only the branches and do not understand the roots.

Rushing to discuss rewards and punishments also shows ignorance of where governance begins. To hurriedly debate rewards and punishments in the hope of controlling the times is to see the branches without knowing the roots. Here, “beginning” and “root” mean much the same thing; only the terms differ.

To argue against the right way and speak against the order of things is to be someone who can only be governed by others. How could such a person govern anyone else?

Guo Xiang’s commentary says: “To govern others, one must follow the proper order of things.”

The explanatory commentary says: “‘To oppose’ means to go against. Someone who does not understand the methods of governance or the proper order of things, but instead reverses reason and defies the nature of things, can only be subject to others. How could such a person govern anyone else?”

To rush into discussions of titles, institutions, rewards, and punishments is to know only the tools used in governance. It does not mean one understands the principles of governance.

Guo Xiang’s commentary says: “The Way of governance begins with understanding the principles of Heaven. This does not mean abolishing rewards and punishments; it means not reversing the proper order.”

The explanatory commentary says: “Titles, institutions, rewards, and punishments are merely tools and measures that can be used in governing. They are not the fundamental principles of governance.”

These methods may be used to manage the affairs of the world, but they are not enough to truly govern the world. People who rely on them are merely skilled in argument: they understand only one aspect and hold narrow views.

Guo Xiang’s commentary says: “To govern the world, one must understand and follow the overall order of things.”

The explanatory commentary says: “If one believes that titles, institutions, and rewards and punishments are enough to govern the world, one still lacks what is needed to govern it truly. This is merely the sort of talk that prizes fine words and makes empty arguments. It belongs to people who see only one side and cling to their own views; they cannot discuss the comprehensive Way of governance with those who understand the Dao.”

Ritual codes, institutions, titles, and all kinds of detailed regulations existed in ancient times too. But these were ways for ministers to serve their ruler, not ways for the ruler to nurture his ministers and people.

Guo Xiang’s commentary says: “The ruler entrusts these affairs to his ministers; through this, he directs and employs them.”

The explanatory commentary says: “This passage restates the point made earlier. Although the ancients had practices such as ritual codes, institutions, and titles, entrusting affairs to ministers and taking no part in them personally can only be called a way for ministers to carry out their duties. It is not the fundamental Way by which a ruler nurtures the people. The chapter concludes by drawing the distinction between branches and roots.”

Long ago, Shun asked Yao for guidance: “When the Son of Heaven governs the world, what does he keep in mind?”

The “Heavenly King” is like the Son of Heaven. Shun asked Yao how an emperor should govern his heart and mind in order to accord with the Great Dao.

Yao replied, “I do not treat with contempt those who have no one to turn to.”

The commentary says that “those who have no one to turn to” refers to foolish and stubborn people. The subcommentary explains that “treat with contempt” means to slight, and that the phrase refers to people so ignorant and obstinate that they are difficult to teach. Yao’s meaning was: even when people are so stubborn that they are hard to teach, I patiently instruct them, neither looking down on them nor abandoning them. Thus the Old Master’s Classic says, “I treat those who are not good with goodness.”

“I do not abandon the poor.” The commentary says that Yao always gave them assistance. The subcommentary explains that when people among the common folk were poor, he regularly helped and cared for them, never growing lax.

“I grieve for the dead, care for children, and show compassion to those who return.” The subcommentary explains that “children” means the young, and “grieve” means to feel compassion. When someone among the people died, Yao grieved for them and comforted their family. He also showed compassion to young children, women, orphans, and widows, providing for them and giving them aid.

“That is the whole of my concern.” The subcommentary says that “whole” means “to stop”: Yao was summing up his earlier answer and saying that this was the full extent of his concern.

Shun said, “That is certainly good, but it is not broad enough.” The subcommentary explains that though Yao’s approach to governing the country was good, its scope was limited and could not be called broad. After hearing Yao’s answer, Shun pointed this out.

Yao asked, “Then what would be broad enough?”

Shun said, “Let your own virtue accord with Heaven; then, even when you take action, your heart and mind can remain at peace.” The commentary says that when one’s virtue accords with Heaven, the heart and mind remain tranquil even as one’s actions become visible in the world. The subcommentary explains that the methods of governing and teaching should accord with the mysterious way of Heaven: even when one’s actions are evident, the heart and mind remain constantly at peace.

“The sun and moon shine, the seasons turn, and day and night follow their regular course; clouds move through the sky and rain falls.” The commentary says that all this happens naturally, without deliberate action. The subcommentary explains that “regular course” means a constant order. The sun and moon shine, illuminating all directions; spring and autumn, cold and heat follow one another in turn; day and night alternate, clouds move and rain falls. These are the great De of Heaven and Earth and the natural way in which they operate. Heaven and Earth have no partiality, yet they naturally nurture the myriad things. An emperor governing the world should be the same.

Yao said, “This is truly a tumult of activity!” The commentary says that Yao recognized that he had been taking deliberate action. The subcommentary explains that “tumultuous and agitated” describes a state of confusion. Having understood Shun’s words, Yao then felt that he himself… The original text breaks off here.

Each matter gives rise to another, so here I will offer only a brief, modest qualification.

“Your Virtue accords with Heaven; my intentions accord with human affairs.”

Commentary: Yao humbled himself and yielded his reputation and achievements to Shun. Thus it is said that Shun’s flourishing Virtue reached far and accorded with Heaven, while Yao’s own conduct and intentions closely accorded with human affairs. There was no difference in rank between the Virtue of the two rulers, Yao and Shun. They are invoked here to illustrate the Way of governing.

Heaven and Earth have been held in the highest esteem by people since ancient times.

Commentary: From this point onward, the text is by Zhuangzi. Heaven covers all things, and Earth bears them, nurturing every kind of living being. Heaven and Earth are two of the four great things in the world. The text therefore cites the words of the ancients to support the present argument and praise the sage who can accord with Heaven and Earth.

The Yellow Emperor, Yao, and Shun, too, all praised Heaven and Earth.

Commentary: Only Heaven is supremely vast, and only Yao could take Heaven as his model. From this we can see that Xuanyuan (the Yellow Emperor), Zhuanxu, Tang Yao, and Yu Shun all esteemed the accord of Virtue with Heaven and Earth.

So what did the ancient rulers who governed all under Heaven do? Nothing more than follow the course of Heaven and Earth.

Commentary: What, in fact, did the ancient rulers who held the Dao do? They simply followed the course of all things, harbored no self-interest, and let their Virtue accord with Heaven and Earth.

Confucius traveled west to the Zhou royal house, where its classical texts were kept. Zilu proposed: “I have heard that Lao Dan, the archivist of the Zhou court who was in charge of its texts, has resigned and gone home. If you wish to deposit your books, Master, why not go and pay him a visit?”

Commentary: Zilu, surnamed Zhong and named You, was a disciple of Confucius. Seeing that the Zhou dynasty’s benevolent governance had declined beyond recovery, Confucius hoped to deposit the books he had compiled in the royal archives, so that a ruler in the future might use them to govern the realm and spread instruction. He discussed with his disciples whether this could be done. Lao Dan, surnamed Li and named Er, served as the Zhou court’s archivist, responsible for its texts, a role roughly equivalent to that of a librarian today. Seeing the Zhou court in turmoil, he resigned and retired to live quietly at home. Zilu therefore urged Confucius to visit Lao Dan and seek his advice.

Confucius said, “Good.” He went to see Lao Dan, but Lao Dan refused his request.

Commentary: Laozi believed that the books Confucius wished to deposit contained only old sayings handed down from sages of earlier times, like straw dogs discarded after a sacrifice. They should not be preserved for long, he thought, lest they confuse later generations. So he refused.

Confucius then expounded the twelve classics at length.

Commentary: Confucius edited the Book of Odes and the Book of Documents, organized the Rites and the Music, explained the principles of the Book of Changes, and compiled the Spring and Autumn Annals. Together these are known as the Six Classics. With the addition of six apocryphal texts, they make twelve classics. Confucius laid out their contents in detail and explained them repeatedly.

After hearing one passage, Lao Dan interrupted him: “That is far too long. Please give me the essential point.”

By “its arguments are sound,” you mean that you find what it says reasonable; by “greatly rambling,” you mean that you find it overly elaborate. The best way to simplify an elaborate account is to grasp its main point.

Confucius said, “The main point lies in benevolence and righteousness.”

The commentary explains: This scripture develops its argument in twelve places. To distill the main point from so much material, nothing matters more than benevolence and righteousness.

Lao Dan asked, “May I ask whether benevolence and righteousness are part of human nature?”

The commentary explains: He is asking whether benevolence and righteousness accord with human nature.

Confucius said, “Yes. Without speaking of benevolence, a gentleman cannot cultivate virtue; without speaking of righteousness, he cannot establish himself. Benevolence and righteousness are a person’s true nature. What is there to doubt?”

The commentary explains: “Yes” means that benevolence and righteousness are essential aspects of human nature. If a worthy person or gentleman is not benevolent, neither reputation nor virtue can be established; if he is not righteous, he cannot establish the principles by which to conduct himself in the world. Since benevolence and righteousness are a person’s true nature, what is there to doubt?

Lao Dan asked, “May I ask what benevolence and righteousness mean?”

The commentary explains: Earlier, he said that benevolence and righteousness are a person’s true nature. Now he asks again because he wants Confucius to explain the reasoning behind this claim.

Confucius said, “To be sincere at heart and bring peace and joy to all things; to care for everyone equally and show no partiality—this is the spirit of benevolence and righteousness.”

The note says: This is the ordinary understanding of benevolence and righteousness, so the dialogue between Confucius and Lao Dan is used to examine and correct it.

The commentary explains: “Kai” means joyful and at peace. To be loyal and sincere at heart, wishing for all things to be at peace and joyful; to care for everyone equally and without partiality—these accord with ordinary human feelings and can serve as principles for teaching in the world.

Lao Dan said, “Ah, that sounds almost excessive. And your talk of caring for everyone equally—isn’t that rather roundabout?”

The note says: A person of the highest benevolence does not harbor the thought of “love,” but acts naturally in accordance with the Way.

The commentary explains: “Yi” is an exclamation of inner discontent; “ji” means nearly; “yu” means circuitous. Lao Dan thinks Confucius’s words come close to being boastful and false, and so he sighs in disapproval. A person of the highest attainment acts directly in accordance with how things are, without deliberate calculation. Confucius, by contrast, keeps “equal care” in mind. Does this not show a personal intention, taking the more roundabout path?

Lao Dan added, “What is called selflessness may, in fact, be selfishness.”

The note says: What people call selflessness is setting oneself aside to love others. But when they love others, they often hope those others will love them in return. This is actually quite selfish; it is neither forgetting oneself nor acting impartially.

The commentary explains: To care for others equally while hoping they will care for you in return is, on the contrary, a profound form of selfishness. How can that be called impartial?

Lao Dan added, “If you truly wish for the people throughout the realm to keep from losing their own nature…”

The commentary explains: “Mu” means to nurture and protect. If you wish the people throughout the realm to preserve their nature, the best way is for those above and below to remain secure in their respective roles and keep to their proper duties, freely nurturing body and mind. In this way, the realm can be brought to great order.

Some write the character “fang” 放 as “fang” 仿, meaning that if a ruler simply lets all things follow their own natures, the world can be at peace.

Heaven and Earth already follow their constant patterns; the sun and moon are naturally bright, and the stars are naturally arrayed in their places. These are all ways of nature, unrelated to human arrangements. And why should only these three be so? Everything is like this. As long as things are left to follow their nature, without meddling arrangements, each will naturally come to completion. Why trouble yourself with deliberate correction?

Birds and beasts naturally gather in groups, and trees naturally grow upright. The commentary says: Each is already complete in itself. The subcommentary explains: Sentient birds and beasts, and plants and trees without feelings or awareness, can all grow and gather in groups according to their own kinds. Why should they need benevolence and righteousness to do so?

Confucius, too, had only to let his own De (Virtue) unfold and follow the Dao (the Way); he had already reached the highest state. The commentary says: This does not depend on universal love, which makes no distinction between those near and far. The subcommentary explains: “Following” means going along with something. Letting his own De unfold, he wandered freely through the world; following the Way of Heaven, he made his way among people. Such conduct had already reached the wondrous state. Nothing could be better.

Why, then, raise the banner of benevolence and righteousness so urgently, as if beating a drum to search for a runaway child? The commentary says: This way, he will never find the child. The subcommentary explains: “Jiejie” describes strenuous exertion; “raising” means carrying something aloft or on one’s back; and “runaway child” means someone who has fled. The point is that Confucius exerted all his strength, shouldered benevolence and righteousness, and tried to impose them on the world to teach everyone. How is this any different from beating a drum to search for a runaway child? The louder the drum, the farther the fugitive runs. The more conspicuously benevolence and righteousness are proclaimed, the farther one moves from the Great Way. So the child is never found.

This probably means that Confucius disturbed people’s natural dispositions. The commentary explains: When something happens, fitting care arises naturally; when a situation accords with what is right, one follows what is right and stops there. Keeping benevolence and righteousness constantly in mind instead disturbs one’s true nature. The subcommentary says: The runaway child cannot be found because of the drum; people’s true nature cannot shine through because of benevolence and righteousness. The author therefore gives voice to this reflection and brings the passage to a close.

Shicheng Qi paid a visit to Laozi and asked, “I have heard that you are a sage. I traveled a great distance from my own country to meet you. I passed a hundred inns, my feet became covered in thick blisters, and I did not dare stop to rest.”

The subcommentary explains: Shi is the family name, and Cheng Qi is the courtesy name; it is not known where he came from. “Inn” means a place to stay, and “blisters” refers to the sores and calluses worn onto the feet. Shicheng Qi had long heard of Laozi’s extraordinary De, so he endured hardship and traveled from afar to seek him out. He passed many inns along the way but did not dare stop even for a moment, until his feet were covered in blisters.

“Now that I have seen you, you do not seem like a sage. Even the vegetables left behind after mice have gnawed at them are still lying around here.”

The commentary explains: This means that Laozi does not take care of things.

Shicheng Qi said, “Long ago, I had already heard your name celebrated, and thought you were a perfected person, one of lofty virtue who had transcended the ordinary. Now that I have seen you with my own eyes, I know you are no sage. You saw leftover vegetable leaves in a mouse hole and found them filthy; that is why you spoke those mocking words.

“To say that you abandon the ignorant and benighted is hardly benevolent.”

The note explains that “no kindness close at hand” means failing to extend immediate kindness; hence the word “abandon.”

The commentary says that here, “mei” can be read as “mei,” meaning people who are confused and ignorant. Such people should be guided and taught. If you leave them without instruction, how can that be called benevolent?

Laozi said, “Grain and clothing are never used up, and food is always left over.”

The note explains that this is because supplies are abundant, so there is always a surplus.

The commentary says that “raw” refers to provisions such as grain and cloth, while “cooked” refers to prepared food. Once supplies are abundant, one no longer frets over them. Even when food and possessions lie scattered before him, Laozi remains generous and open-minded, unconcerned with petty details. Shicheng Qi, however, treats these things as faults and judges a true sage by trivial details. It is like scooping seawater with a seashell in order to measure the ocean’s depth.

Laozi’s gathering and storing have no bounds.

The note explains that all things turn toward him; he welcomes whoever comes and sets no limits.

The commentary says that Laozi possesses the virtue of a sage, and all things gather around him, so there is no clear boundary to what he receives and accumulates. His mind is vast and free of attachment; things gather and disperse according to their natural course.

Laozi’s expression remained calm, and he did not reply.

The note explains that he did not take the other person’s words to heart.

The commentary says: How could these worldly remarks truly reach his ears? Calm and empty, he considered them unworthy of concern.

The next day, Shicheng Qi came to see Laozi again and said, “Yesterday I mocked you. Now the prejudice in my mind has vanished. Why is that?”

The note explains that “xi” means emptiness or cessation. Shicheng Qi was reproaching himself: when he first came the day before, he had mocked Laozi recklessly. After reflecting, he recognized his own error, felt ashamed, and his former prejudice dissolved.

Laozi said, “I thought I had long since cast off such labels as clever, miraculous, and sage.”

The note explains that “cast off” means to have passed beyond or freed oneself from something.

The commentary says that cleverness, the miraculous, and sagehood are all outward reputations, not the root. Shicheng Qi thought Laozi sought the reputation of a sage, so Laozi said he had long since gone beyond and cast off these labels. Guo Xiang’s commentary explains that “cast off” here means that something has already passed and one has been freed from it. Laozi said this to help Shicheng Qi let go of his attachment to the title of sage and return to the root.

“Before, you called me an ox, and I was called an ox; you called me a horse, and I was called a horse.”

The note explains that names are determined by things and by what others call them.

If you truly have a real basis for such an identity, whatever title others give you need not concern you, and you need not refuse it.

Note: Because the identity is real, neither criticism nor praise can stir your heart.

To do so would instead bring misfortune upon you again.

Note: If you take criticism or praise to heart, you become entangled in both reputation and reality. That is why you invite misfortune a second time.

Commentary: Yesterday you called me an ox, so I went along with you and called myself an ox. You called me a horse, and I went along with you and called myself a horse. I did not refuse, because I truly have qualities like those of an ox or a horse; it is simply a name. If others give me a name and I avoid it or refuse to accept it, I will only bring misfortune upon myself again. Mocking words are not so serious; if I do not avoid names like “ox” and “horse,” how much less should I avoid other names?

I have always been at ease in this way.

Note: Here, “bearing” refers to one’s appearance and manner. Because he does not let criticism or praise bring misfortune upon him, he can keep his appearance and manner unchanged.

Commentary: Guo Xiang’s note says that “bearing” refers to one’s appearance and manner. Laozi had realized the Great Dao and attained the state of a sage, so he could keep his body and mind at peace and accept any name. If others called him an ox or a horse, he simply went along with it. This was his constant way of being, not something he deliberately arranged.

I am not deliberately putting on an appearance of being at ease.

Note: If this were intentional affectation, the state could not last.

Commentary: I simply follow my nature and accept these names without resistance; I do not achieve this by carefully planning it. To act with deliberate intent would be to falsify one’s nature. And if it were contrived, how could it be called Wuwei (non-action)?

Sheng Chengqi avoided Laozi’s shadow by moving diagonally, like a flock of geese in formation. He followed behind, stepping cautiously, then came forward and asked, “How should I cultivate myself?”

Commentary: Sheng Chengqi knew that what he had said earlier was wrong and felt ashamed. He turned aside and walked diagonally, like a flock of geese in formation, following behind Laozi while avoiding his shadow and not daring to step where Laozi had stepped. He slowly came forward and asked how to cultivate himself.

Laozi said, “Your bearing looks tense and uneasy.”

Note: “Yaran” describes a manner of advancing and withdrawing that seems uneasy.

Commentary: “You” means Sheng Chengqi. Laozi said that he was deliberately embellishing his appearance and behaving theatrically to seem different from others. He considered himself superior and could not relax naturally.

“Your eyes also look restless and exposed.”

Note: “Chongran” describes a gaze that seems to thrust outward.

Commentary: His heart was unsettled, and his eyes wandered in every direction. He glanced from side to side, revealing a tense and uneasy air.

“Your forehead juts high, giving you a vain, affected look.”

Note: This describes a high, prominent forehead that gives an appearance of elegance.

Commentary: His forehead was raised and prominent, and his appearance was carefully embellished to impress others, revealing an air of arrogance.

“Your mouth is held wide open, giving you a domineering look.”

Note: “Kanran” describes an open mouth and a coarse, harsh manner.

Commentary: Guo Xiang’s note says this describes someone who opens his mouth harshly. It refers to an obstinate temperament and forceful speech.

He appeared strong and fierce, boastful and flamboyant, as fearsome as a roaring tiger, and full of self-importance.

Note: This describes his arrogant, self-assured manner. Commentary: “Righteousness” here means displaying benevolence and justice on the surface. Yet he was arrogant and conceited, acting against propriety while deliberately polishing his appearance.

His manner was like that of a tethered horse. Though he put on a dignified air, inwardly he was restless, intent only on running off.

Note: His mind was still racing. Commentary: He looked restrained and solemn on the outside, but inside he was like a wild horse held by a tether, always longing to run.

He was constrained at every turn and could not move freely or at ease.

Note: He could not act freely and let himself unfold. Commentary: His thoughts chased after external things, and he reacted whenever something happened instead of following things naturally. Whatever he did, he was bound by constraints.

Whenever a thought was stirred, it burst forth swiftly and forcefully, like a crossbow firing.

Note: He reacted quickly in choosing and rejecting. Commentary: The trigger is the mechanism that releases a crossbow. When his mind, attached to external things, encountered a situation, it sprang into action at once, as sharply as a bolt from a crossbow.

He was always examining and judging, distinguishing right from wrong.

Note: He always had to sort right from wrong. Commentary: He could neither forget his preconceptions and respond with openness, nor set aside his discriminating mind. He always had to scrutinize and decide what was right and wrong.

He showed off his cleverness, pursuing what he saw and desired beyond what his nature required.

Note: “Excess” means going beyond one’s nature. A single-minded pursuit of clever schemes instead caused him to lose the ability to remain simple and unadorned. Commentary: “Excess” means having too much. He could neither forget cleverness nor understand the principle of Wuwei (non-action); instead, he relied on cunning to pursue deliberate action.

All these signs show that he did not remain true to his nature and destiny. He let himself rise and fall with praise and blame; none of this is a way to cultivate oneself.

Note: Commentary: These behaviors are all false and affected, not genuine Virtue.

There was a man like this on the frontier, whom people called “the Thief.”

Note: What he did was like what you do: it was not the conduct of an upright person. Commentary: “Thief” means a robber. Such a man suddenly appeared in a remote border region, disregarding the law and intent only on stealing. Within, he damaged customs and education; beyond the border, he obstructed relations with neighboring peoples. He corrupted government and harmed the people; nothing could be worse. His conduct was as base as Cheng Qi’s: flamboyant and frivolous in manner, he was just like a thief.

Confucius said, “The Dao is so vast that it has no bounds, and so small that nothing is left out. Thus all things are contained within it.”

Commentary: Zhuang Zhou took Laozi as his teacher, so he calls him “Master.” “Bounds” means the point beyond which something cannot extend. Though Heaven and Earth are immense, they still lie within the Dao and cannot exhaust its scope. Though an autumn hair is tiny, it too takes shape through the Dao. Thus the Dao leaves out nothing, however minute, and can also encompass the vastness of Heaven and Earth; all things are present within it.

Its vastness has no bounds; nothing lies outside it. Its depth is unfathomable and impossible to exhaust.

Commentary: It is so vast that it encompasses everything, and so subtle that nothing can escape it. It runs through the myriad things and embraces Heaven and Earth, the two poles. This is why its reach is said to be boundless, and why its unfathomable depth is so greatly praised.

Physical form, virtue, benevolence, and righteousness are all secondary expressions of spirit, not its root. Who but a perfected person, one who has reached the highest state, could distinguish what is fundamental from what is secondary?

Commentary: Physical form, virtue, benevolence, and righteousness are merely traces of spirit as it appears; they are not spirit itself. They are used only when necessary, to remedy the ills of the world. Who but a perfected sage or spiritual being could judge which are coarse and which are subtle?

A perfected person living among people—is he not considered eminent and powerful? Yet such things are not enough to burden him.

Note: Because he lives in the world, he does not fear or worry on account of a lofty position.

Commentary: The sage’s might surpasses that of a realm with ten thousand chariots. He governs the world and occupies the throne of an emperor—is this not eminence and power? Yet, like the realized ones of Mount Gushe and the northern bank of the Fen River, he forgets external things and himself. He acts in accord with things, while remaining inwardly calm and still. What in the world, then, could burden him?

People throughout the world strive fiercely for power, but he does not join their pursuit.

Note: His mind is calm, and he follows the natural course of things.

Commentary: Power means authority, and “join” means to pursue it together. Even when the state is collapsing and the world is in turmoil, those who chase worldly ambitions will struggle fiercely for power. The perfected person remains calm and self-contained, and does not chase after it with them.

He knows deeply that he has nothing to depend on, and is not led by profit.

Note: He follows his original nature and proceeds directly.

Commentary: His aspirations and nature are settled and tranquil. He accepts his destiny and follows his original nature. If glory and rank cannot move his heart, how could wealth and profit make him change?

He probes the reality of the myriad things and is able to hold fast to the root.

Commentary: The sage sees with penetrating clarity, investigates the principles of things, and fully understands their nature. Thus he can discern the reality of the myriad things. He responds and acts as external things call forth a response, yet does not disturb his inner stillness; he is able to hold fast to the root. So although he transcends Heaven and Earth and forgets the myriad things, his spirit is never troubled.

Commentary: Even while holding the world in his hands and governing every quarter, he can stand beyond Heaven and Earth, unbound by the myriad things. Thus he acts as though through Wuwei (non-action) and handles affairs as though there were nothing to handle. His mind is at ease, his spirit full—what could leave him exhausted?

He is attuned to the Dao (the Way) and united with De (Virtue/Power).

Commentary: When the mind is detached, it is attuned to the highest Dao; when wisdom is empty and still, it is united with the highest De. Here, the mind and its state of being meet, and the distinction between subject and object dissolves with them.

He places benevolence and righteousness in a secondary position.

Note: He puts the Dao and De first.

He treats ritual and music as guests.

Note: He makes human nature and genuine feeling primary.

Commentary: He sets aside the superficiality of benevolence and righteousness and honors the richness of De. He places the outward show of ritual and music in a secondary position, taking Wuwei, emptiness, stillness, and detachment as fundamental.

The mind of the Perfected Person—one who has attained the highest spiritual state—rests in Wuwei (non-action), following things as they are without deliberate striving. Their inner state is calm and serene, and their conduct does not disturb that stillness.

What ordinary people value as the Dao is often no more than words written in books. The Dao is expressed in speech, and books are made of written characters. People of the world have limited understanding: sometimes they use speech to communicate their thoughts, and sometimes they use writing to express them. They therefore prize words and books, not realizing that these cannot fully convey the truth.

Books merely record speech, and speech has its own value: it can express meaning. Written characters record speech, and speech conveys meaning. But the source on which meaning depends and which it follows cannot be conveyed through speech alone. “Follow” means to pursue or accord with. A person’s meaning comes from the Dao, and since the Dao has neither form nor sound, speech cannot fully express it.

Because people value speech, they also value the books that record it. Yet even when they cherish these books, they are not truly cherishing what is precious, for what they value is not the thing of real worth. The value of books and speech lies beyond the words and phrases themselves, in the meaning they express. If one clings only to written characters and spoken words, one forgets to grasp the truth they point to.

The eye can see form and color; the ear can hear names and sounds. Sadly, people think that form, color, and reputation are enough to know the true nature of things. In fact, these are not enough to let one grasp their inner principle. To understand their true meaning, one must let go of words and abandon attachment to the phrases in books.

Thus, those who truly understand the Dao do not cling to speech; those who cling to speech do not understand the Dao. The commentator explains that this means going beyond distinctions of knowledge and letting go of the fixation on seeking knowledge. But how could ordinary people understand this? Only those who have attained insight can grasp it.

Duke Huan was reading a book in the hall, while Wheelwright Pian, a craftsman who made wheels, was carving one below. He set down his hammer and chisel, went up to the duke, and asked, “May I ask what book you are reading?”

The commentary explains: Duke Huan was Duke Huan of Qi. Pian was the craftsman’s name, and “carving” means shaping by cutting; “setting down” means putting aside. Duke Huan was reading, while Wheelwright Pian was making a wheel: their status and their work were different. Pian set down his tools and came forward to ask a question to show that the Dao is profound and mysterious, and cannot easily be passed on in words. The dialogue between the duke and the craftsman offers a glimpse of how words cannot fully convey meaning.

Duke Huan said, “I am reading the words of the sages.”

The commentary explains: The sages’ words here refer to honoring Kings Wen and Wu and recounting the ways of Yao and Shun.

Wheelwright Pian asked again, “Are the sages still alive?”

Duke Huan said, “They are dead.”

The commentary explains: Duke Huan replied that although the sages had passed away, their teachings remained.

Wheelwright Pian said, “Then what you are reading is no more than the dregs left behind by the ancients.”

The commentary explains: Both “dregs” and “lees” refer to the residue of wine. Fine, rich wine is like the Dao and De; the lees are like doctrines of benevolence and righteousness that have grown stale. They are like straw dogs used as offerings in a ritual: once the ritual is over, they are discarded. Why should anyone value them?

Duke Huan said, “I am reading a book. How does a craftsman dare to criticize it? If you can make a reasoned case, that is one thing; if you cannot, I will have you put to death.”

The commentary explains: There was a distinction between ruler and subject, noble and commoner. As an ordinary man, Wheelwright Pian should not have spoken so casually. Duke Huan said that if Pian had a sound argument, he could be spared; if not, he would be sentenced to death.

Wheelwright Pian replied, “I will explain this through my own craft. When carving a wheel, if I work too slowly, it will be loose and weak; if I work too quickly, it will catch, and the wood will not fit into place. Only when I am neither too slow nor too fast does my hand find the right touch, and my mind respond in turn. There is a knack to it, but I cannot put it into words.

“I cannot explain this knack to my son, and my son cannot learn it from me. So even at seventy, I am still carving wheels with my own hands.”

The note explains that this passage shows how each thing has its own nature, and that teaching and learning cannot always pass a craft on in its entirety.

The commentary explains: “Explain” means to make something clear. Wheelwright Pian could not pass his craft on to his son, and his son could not master it by following his instruction. So even in old age, Pian continued to make wheels himself. This shows that each thing has its own nature, and that skill cannot always be learned through imitation and copying.

The people of ancient times and the things they handed down have all vanished. What you are reading, then, is no more than the dregs left behind by the ancients.

Note: Events of antiquity have long since been buried in the past. Even if someone passed them down, how could that bring ancient times back into the present? The past is not the present, and circumstances today have changed. So one should stop clinging to old learning, follow one’s nature, and act in step with the changing times. Only then can one arrive at what is fitting.

Commentary: Sages established laws and standards to benefit all things, and those laws and standards change with the times. Time never stands still, so laws and standards naturally change along with it. The institutions and laws of the ancients have therefore declined and vanished into the past, while the laws and people of the present have arisen in their place. One cannot cling to the deeds of ancient sages and copy them wholesale into the world today. From this we can see that the books we read are, in the end, merely the dregs left behind by the ancients.

Collected Commentaries on the True Classic of Southern Florescence, Volume Fifteen