《太上感應篇》Vol. 13
About this page. The original text of 《太上感應篇》 Vol. 13 (Taiqing 太清部, 30 volumes) is shown in Classical Chinese as transmitted in the Kanripo (Kyoto University) edition. An English interpretation of the 8 passages on this page accompanies it: select a passage or press “Interpretation” to show it. All texts in English
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Source textInterpretation
The thirteenth volume of the Taishang Ganying Pian (Treatise of the Exalted One on Response and Retribution) records the following story: Those who cultivate the mind should use six kinds of equal wisdom to tame their thoughts. These six wisdoms are: the wisdom of viewing all things equally like an echo, the wisdom of non-attachment like reflections in a mirror, the wisdom of seeing through illusions like phantoms, the wisdom of purity and stainlessness, the wisdom of penetrating the laws of the mundane world, and the wisdom of understanding the arising of karma and causality. Possessing these wisdoms generates corresponding power, allowing one to see through the nature of all things—as fleeting as echoes, as insubstantial as reflections, and as illusory as mirages.
In Bozhou (present-day Liaocheng, Shandong), the drum tower was haunted by a ghost that pressed down on the drum every night at the third watch, making it impossible to sound. The night watchmen were repeatedly punished for this until they heard of the virtuous Chan master Huo and sought his advice. The master said, "If you hold your breath and remain silent, you will catch it." The watchman did as instructed and indeed captured the ghost. The ghost confessed, "In this place, I fear only Chan master Huo and Huang Ershu—even the governor holds no sway over me." Later, people sought out Huang Ershu and discovered he was merely an old farmer who had sold vegetables for thirty years. The only remarkable thing about him was that when weighing vegetables, he made no distinction between fresh and wilted; when bundling them, he paid no mind to size; and when setting prices, he did not discriminate between high and low—his mind remained utterly undistracted. This shows that those whose thoughts are single-minded command the awe of ghosts and spirits, while those who are divided in mind become playthings of the unseen.
The text also recounts the case of Vice Commissioner Yu: When Li Shiheng was sent as an envoy to Goryeo, the military officer Yu Ying served as his deputy. The gifts bestowed by Goryeo were all entrusted to Yu Ying’s care. Fearing leaks during the sea voyage, he placed Li Shiheng’s gifts at the bottom of the ship and his own on top. When a fierce storm nearly capsized the vessel, the crew frantically lightened the load—and the first things they threw overboard were Yu Ying’s personal belongings. This illustrates how harboring selfish intentions ultimately leads to self-inflicted consequences.
This scripture recounts several stories and teachings about karmic retribution.
The first tale describes a man caught in a storm at sea who jettisoned many belongings, only to discover later that all the discarded items belonged to others while his own possessions remained untouched—perhaps a playful trick by the Sea Deity.
The text then cites the Buddha's discourse to Elder Shoujia from the Sutra on the Varieties of Karmic Retribution, listing ten virtuous deeds that confer great spiritual power (De):
1. Refraining from envy toward sentient beings
2. Rejoicing in others' gains
3. Showing compassion for others' losses
4. Taking joy in others' fame and fortune
5. Feeling concern when others suffer reputational harm
6. Generating bodhicitta to create Buddha images
7. Honoring parents and sages
8. Advising others to abandon petty virtues
9. Encouraging cultivation of great virtues
10. Never disparaging those lacking spiritual power
The Bodhisattva Vimalakirti teaches that relinquishing attachments, following goodness, and eliminating jealousy will naturally attract virtuous companions. By avoiding envy and slander, one's own spiritual power grows while inspiring joy in others. Through karmic connections, such practitioners either become great spiritual teachers or form noble spiritual bonds.
The narrative then recounts historical episodes: Minister Kou Zhun, despite achieving great merit during the Chanyuan Treaty negotiations, fell victim to Wang Qinruo's slander that Kou had "used the emperor as gambling stakes"—turning imperial favor into distrust. Another account describes Transport Commissioner Wang Han receiving urgent military intelligence during the Guangzhou campaign.
The core teaching emphasizes abandoning jealousy and cultivating virtuous deeds to reap favorable karma. Those who envy others' success and sabotage their achievements ultimately suffer the bitter fruits of their own malice.
This passage recounts several historical events while expounding the essential principles of Daoist cultivation. It first documents how a local official conscripted men for self-defense, yet after quelling the rebellion, was demoted due to colleagues' slander. The text laments how loyal ministers achieving merit face demotion while treacherous ones gain rewards through calumny, pointing out how such actions defying heavenly principle will inevitably bring retribution.
The narrative then employs a Buddhist parable to illuminate the true meaning of spiritual practice: When Subhūti (one of Buddha's ten great disciples) asked how to settle and subdue the wandering mind, the Buddha replied, "Thus should you abide, thus subdue." This reveals the crux of cultivation lies in present-moment awakening rather than external forms. Those who harm others for self-preservation may gain temporary advantage, but by violating cosmic principles, they ultimately reap what they sow.
The conclusion cites the contrasting examples of Song Dynasty ministers Wang Dan (posthumously titled Wenzheng) and Wang Qinruo (enfeoffed as Duke of Ji): When the emperor presented his "Joyful Rain Poem," Wang Dan shared it openly with colleagues, while Wang Qinruo secretly slandered it. This contrast highlights the magnanimity of noble men versus the scheming of petty minds, echoing the earlier warning that "endangering others for self-security ultimately endangers oneself."
Throughout the text runs the core concept of "retribution for good and evil," emphasizing upright intention as fundamental. Whether in governance or spiritual practice, one must interact with others through integrity—those who manipulate power and profit at others' expense will ultimately face the Dao's punishment.
This passage recounts several historical anecdotes and philosophical insights on life:
The first story involves Song Dynasty official Wang Zeng (posthumously titled Wenzheng) and the emperor. When the emperor's poem contained an erroneous character, Wang Zeng refrained from pointing it out, only to be severely reprimanded later. Only Ma Zhijie stepped forward to clarify the truth, praising Wang's refusal to argue as embodying the true demeanor of a prime minister.
The second anecdote concerns Su Shi (Wenzhong). Someone attempted to use his poetic line "Only the dormant dragon knows" to falsely accuse him of disrespect toward the emperor. However, the discerning ruler noted that ancient texts frequently used "dragon" (as in Zhuge Liang's epithet "Crouching Dragon") without necessarily referring to the throne. Had the emperor not been sagacious, Su Shi might have faced grave consequences.
The text then references hexagrams from the Book of Changes (Yijing) to illustrate the noble person's way of engaging with the world: the Kan hexagram (representing danger) teaches transformation, the Gu hexagram (representing decay) inspires the people, the Jian hexagram (representing hardship) rectifies the state, and the Zhun hexagram (representing beginnings) facilitates planning. Even in adversity, the noble mind remains concerned with public welfare.
Subsequent philosophical reflections observe life's brevity: youthful ambitions give way to familial burdens, officials become consumed by duties, merchants entangled in trade—until mortality arrives unnoticed. As Chan Master Benjing told Yang Jinqing: "Human life and death resemble dreaming—one cannot speak of nothingness while dreaming, nor of existence upon waking. Though there appears to be being and non-being, there's no true coming or going."
The passage concludes with a gatha (verse summary): "View life as drifting clouds, regard wealth as common earth—thus one transcends the wheel of rebirth."
Life is like a grand dream—full of bustling noise and commotion, only to awaken and find all is emptiness. The wise see through this illusion, while the foolish remain lost in it. In truth, wealth and poverty are fundamentally the same, equally fleeting as dreams.
When Guo Congyi served as an official in Heyang, he spent five thousand taels of silver to build a lavish mansion in Luoyang. He used fragrant cedar for the walls, rare timber for the beams, ornamental stones for the floors, and even dug ponds and piled artificial hills, complete with pavilions and towers. Yet as soon as the mansion was completed, he was recalled to the capital and only had time to glimpse it briefly by candlelight one night. Later, he died on his way to a new post, never returning to live there. His family couldn’t occupy it either, and eventually, the estate was confiscated by the state.
Similarly, when Lord Chen Gong built his sprawling estate in Runzhou, stretching hundreds of paces, he fell gravely ill by the time it was finished. He had to be carried up to the west tower for a single look before passing away soon after. People called the mansion the "Three Cannot-Haves": cannot live in it, cannot repair it, and cannot sell it. Looking back, those days of extravagant construction were nothing but a futile dream.
This echoes the wisdom of the Daodejing: what seems like loss may bring gain, and what seems like gain may invite loss. Those who greedily seek personal profit ultimately reap their own ruin, as the verse says: "Those who exploit the people to enrich themselves will not endure; those who remain humble and lowly will magnify their virtue (De)." All things in the world follow the natural rhythms of waxing and waning—those who obsess over selfish gain rarely avoid downfall.
Our bodies may seem solid, but they are merely temporary gatherings of the four elements—earth, water, fire, and wind. Our thoughts may seem capable of freely choosing good or evil, but they too are illusory phenomena arising from fleeting causes and conditions.
This passage expounds on the illusory nature of all worldly phenomena. What people persistently pursue is ultimately as unreal as a dream.
Buddhism teaches that even the concept of "enlightenment" is illusory. To speak of having enlightenment or lacking enlightenment is still revolving within illusion. Our physical bodies, thoughts, and even the mind that seeks enlightenment are fundamentally unreal—how much more so external objects? Since this is the case, why differentiate between good and bad in illusory things?
The Buddhist sage Vessabhū said: The human body and mind are temporary combinations of the four great elements (earth, water, fire, and wind), inherently devoid of true life. Discrimination arises only because of external conditions; if those conditions vanish, the mind ceases, and both sin and merit appear and disappear like illusions. The Fourth Chan Patriarch Daoxin also taught: External objects have no inherent beauty or ugliness—these distinctions are imposed by the mind. If the mind does not cling to labels, from where would false emotions arise?
There was once a practitioner named Black Brahmin who used his spiritual powers to hold a hibiscus flower in each hand as an offering to the Buddha. The Buddha told him three times, "Let go." Finally, the Brahmin asked, "I've already emptied my hands—what more is there to let go of?" The Buddha replied, "I'm not asking you to let go of the flowers, but to let go of your attachments to external objects (the six dusts), sensory faculties (the six roots), and consciousness (the six consciousnesses). Only by completely releasing these can you transcend life and death." Upon hearing this, the Brahmin experienced profound awakening.
During the reign of Emperor Dezong of the Tang Dynasty, an official named Ju Yuanqing, serving as the Six Palaces Commissioner, became captivated by the blooming flowers in Luoyang. A voice from the sky admonished him: "These illusory flowers bloom and fade—why let them ruin your virtuous roots with attachment?" Yuanqing was enlightened upon hearing this. Thus, figures like Wang Wenzheng (Wang Dan), who refused to covet a priceless jade belt, and Lü Wenmu (Lü Mengzheng), who remained unmoved by a mirror said to reflect objects two hundred miles away, understood this truth. Those who trade bad for good aren’t even worth explaining this to.
Even if reading Buddhist scriptures doesn’t bring enlightenment, why not reflect using the Confucian principle, "Do not impose on others what you yourself do not desire"? (Note: When Wang Dan served as prime minister, someone offered a jade belt through his younger brother, praising it as "exceptionally fine." Wang Dan replied, "Isn’t it exhausting to carry expensive things just to earn others’ praise?" Thus, throughout his life, he only wore belts bestowed by the emperor.)
When Lü Yijian served as prime minister, someone tried to sell an ancient mirror through his son-in-law, claiming it could reflect objects two hundred li away. Lü replied, "My face is no larger than a dish—why would I need to see two hundred li away?"
This anecdote extols the virtue of integrity. Just as Confucius' disciple Zilu preferred wearing tattered cotton clothes over envying others' luxurious fox furs, true cultivators view wealth as illusory. The immortal Lü Dongbin took pride in finding joy in poverty while following the Dao—this exemplifies the noble realm gentlemen aspire to. Those who seek profit through improper means are like thieves who confuse true red with purple or disrupt refined music with vulgar tunes, yet feel no shame.
The classics state: "For the state, forget your family; for your sovereign, forget yourself; for public affairs, forget private gain—this is a minister's duty." How can one neglect public duty for private interests? Doing so would invert right and wrong, confuse the wise and foolish, and nothing brings national ruin faster. Hence a true gentleman would never commit such acts.
When Zhao Gai served alongside Ouyang Xiu in the Hanlin Academy, Zhao's reserved and taciturn nature led Ouyang to underestimate him. Later, when Ouyang was implicated in his nephew's scandal and the emperor was furious—with court officials eager to fabricate charges and none daring to defend him—Zhao alone submitted a memorial: "Ouyang Xiu serves Your Majesty through literary talents; he shouldn't be slandered over private bedroom matters. Though we've never been close and he treats me coldly, I speak only to uphold court decorum." When asked about their strained relationship, Zhao replied, "Using public office for private grievances? That I, Zhao Gai, would never do."
During the Zhihe era of Emperor Renzong, imperial censor Zhao Bian and remonstrance official Fan Zhen (courtesy name Jingren) clashed over their impeachment of Chen Zhizhong. Later, when Wang Anshi came to power, he resented Fan's blunt admonitions before the emperor. One day when the emperor inquired about Fan's character, Wang said, "Ask Zhao Bian." Unexpectedly, Zhao declared, "Fan Zhen is loyal. When Emperor Renzong was critically ill, he was first to propose establishing the crown prince to stabilize the realm—isn't that loyalty?" Afterwards, Wang reproached Zhao: "Didn't you have old grievances with him?" Zhao responded, "How dare I neglect public duty for private spite? My frankness prioritizes state interests over personal grudges."
These two worthy ministers truly embodied forgetting self-interest for public good.
When one uses moral principles to suppress selfish desires, those very desires will tempt them with personal gain. Once the thought of coveting profit takes root, the natural moral order (Heavenly Principle) becomes obscured. When this indulgence in selfish desires reaches its extreme, even thieves will collude to create chaos.
The root of such calamities always lies in self-interest. Some people feign righteousness outwardly while harboring ulterior motives; they pretend to be impartial while secretly pursuing personal advantage. This hypocrisy is even more pernicious than overt wickedness.
(Note: The Treatise on the Response of the Dao [Taishang Ganying Pian] is a Daoist text exhorting virtuous conduct, emphasizing the cosmic law of retribution for good and evil. This passage primarily critiques the abuse of public office for private gain, pointing out that those who appear morally upright while secretly pursuing selfish ends are more harmful than outright villains.)
Source text: Kanripo 漢籍リポジトリ(KR5f0001); Licence: CC BY-SA 4.0 · Report an error / feedback