《太上感應篇》Vol. 7

This passage explains how students in ancient times should respectfully treat their teachers. It gives examples of celebrated scholars who honored their teachers: Hu Yuan (courtesy name Anding)’s students Qian Zao, Sun Jue, Fan Chunren, and Qian Gongfu treated their teacher with the deference they would show their fathers and elder brothers. Sun Fu (courtesy name Mingfu)’s students Shi Jie and Zhang Dong, both worthy men of Shandong, always bowed respectfully when accompanying their teacher and attended to him in person.

The passage also tells of Peng Ruli, who later attained the rank of daizhi. As a young man, he studied under Ni Tianyin. After entering government service, he brought his teacher to live at the government office, cared for him, and observed the rites owed by a disciple. When Ni Tianyin died, his family was too poor to afford a burial. Peng Ruli arranged three funerals for him—for his mother, his wife, and himself—and helped Ni’s daughter marry the presented scholar Song Huan. Wang Cun, a senior official in the Ministry of Works, studied under Chen Jun when he was young. After Chen died without a son, Wang arranged for his younger brother’s son to continue the family line, ensuring that his teacher’s widow would be cared for in her old age.

The passage stresses that those who slight their teachers are shallow and petty people. They fail to understand that teachers confer three great benefits on their students: awakening their wisdom, building up hidden virtue through good deeds done without seeking reward, and bringing blessings to their descendants. It offers the example of Wang Shu, posthumously honored as Wenkang. The Wang family was extremely poor, and when Wang Shu’s son was eight, they could not afford to raise him and gave him to a temple. The abbot recognized the boy’s promise and paid for his education. Wang Shu later passed the examination for men of virtue and integrity and rose to become a high-ranking military official. His son, Wang Yirou, also attained high office. This shows that honoring one’s teacher and upholding the Way brings good rewards.

This passage expounds on the Dao of loyalty and righteousness through the moving stories of several servants, illustrating the paramount importance of "serving one's master with unwavering devotion."

First is the tale of Zhao Yansi: He served Secretary Wang Linji, and after both Wang and his son passed away, leaving the family destitute, Zhao remained steadfast in his moral duty. For over a decade, he toiled to raise his master's three daughters—so scrupulous in propriety that he never even looked upon their faces. Only when they came of age did he escort them to the capital to seek out Wang's old acquaintances. When Hanlin Academician Song Bai and Vice Minister Yang Huizhi heard of this, they were deeply moved and provided dowries for all three girls, arranging their marriages to distinguished scholars. The renowned scholar Shi Shoudao composed a biography specifically about this matter to inspire those who lacked moral fiber.

Next is the account of Wang Kui: Originally a servant of Court Gentleman for State Farms Li Tan, he later enlisted in the army. When Li Tan and his son were imprisoned for crimes, none of their relatives or friends dared intervene—only Wang Kui stood daily at the Censorate gates delivering meals, persevering for forty-odd days without faltering. After Li Tan's demotion, when all other attendants fled, Wang alone escorted him. When the grief-stricken Li committed suicide, Wang arranged the funeral with the filial piety of a true son, bringing all witnesses to tears. Sima Guang (Duke Wen) likewise recorded this story to warn against callousness.

The passage concludes: A father gives life, while a teacher imparts wisdom—these two debts of gratitude hold equal weight. Disrespect toward one's mentor constitutes the gravest transgression, and betrayal of those one serves an even greater offense. Betrayal need not manifest as open rebellion; merely withholding aid when one's master faces adversity already qualifies. The noble conduct of these servants puts to shame those of higher station who lack any sense of honor.

This scripture recounts the karmic retribution for deceiving the ignorant. Even servants like Zhao Yansi and Wang Kui remained loyal to their masters, and even dogs and horses know to cherish their owners—yet deceit brings severe calamities.

The text records two exemplary cases: At the famous Daoist temple Bozhou Taiqing Palace, there was a priest who often set up a small furnace before the statue of Lao Jun (an honorific name for the deified Laozi) to refine medicines for sale. Arrogantly claiming to be Lao Jun's own teacher, he deluded crowds into clamoring for his remedies. One day, as he pointed at the sacred statue while spouting blasphemies, furnace flames suddenly sprayed onto his body, instantly engulfing him in fire. Though bystanders doused him with water, the flames wouldn’t extinguish, and he ultimately died kneeling before Lao Jun’s image.

Another charlatan named Zhang Huaisu boasted of commanding birds and beasts, even fabricating stories—claiming he had tried to dissuade Confucius from executing Shao Zhengmao, and that he witnessed the Chu-Han Battle of Chenggao from a hilltop. Even officials like Cai Bian were fooled by him; only the steadfast Lord Chen Guan remained skeptical. When Zhang’s crimes were later exposed, many eminent scholars were implicated—yet Chen Guan alone escaped unscathed.

The scripture warns that deceiving the ignorant invites not only earthly disasters but also rebirth in Avīci Hell (the Buddhist concept of the most excruciating hell). Charlatans exploit Buddhism, elixirs, spirits, or divination—coveting wealth while heedless of karmic consequences. Just as mockery cuts deeper than rage, and malice wounds more cruelly than blades, those who cheat and delude others will ultimately reap what they sow.

This scripture passage illustrates through historical anecdotes the importance of sincerity and kindness in human relationships, particularly emphasizing mutual support among classmates. In modern terms: even fish in water and birds in the air can be disturbed—how much more we humans, the most spiritual of all creatures? Deception and petty cunning are as laughable as covering one's ears while stealing a bell.

The text provides contrasting examples: During the Northern Song dynasty, official Guo Zhi was repeatedly failed in examinations due to slander from his jealous classmate Li Mian. Yet when Li later took the imperial exams filled with remorse, Guo selflessly assisted him to success. Another case tells of Han Yi (later a Song dynasty chancellor) who in his youth shared both meals and bedding with Li Ruogu—both eventually rose to vice-chancellorship and intermarried their families for generations. Zhao Anren, another Northern Song statesman, supported his deceased classmate Song Yuanxing's family by personally copying Confucian classics like the Zhouyi and Analects to educate the children.

Negative examples include the Warring States strategists Zhang Yi and Su Qin (referred to as "Yi-Qin" in the text), whose mutual defamation led to tragic ends. The scripture concludes: Human relationships require polishing like jade—only genuine interaction brings blessings, while deception ultimately backfires.

The mentioned "Five Cardinal Relationships" (Wulun) refer to ancient society's fundamental bonds: ruler-subject, father-child, elder-younger brothers, husband-wife, and friends. While friendship ranks last, its importance remains undiminished, with classmate bonds being particularly precious. These stories embody the Daoist concept of "retribution" (baoying)—that good and evil inevitably bear corresponding fruits.

This scripture expounds on the principle of integrity and trustworthiness in human conduct. It identifies four manifestations of dishonesty: exaggeration (speaking boastfully without substance), slander (falsely accusing others), deception (employing cunning schemes), and pretense (excessive disguise). Though distinct as four separate faults, they collectively constitute dishonesty.

The author emphasizes that integrity is the fundamental principle governing heaven and earth's operation, and pursuing truthfulness is the proper path for human beings. To abandon integrity while indulging in these vices—exaggeration, slander, deception, and pretense—is to violate the Dao of heaven and forfeit the way of humanity. Where else could such people end up if not falling into the three wretched paths of hungry ghosts, hell realms, or animal rebirth? As Chan Master Yaoshan observed: "To understand the hungry ghost realm, observe those whose empty words make them untrustworthy; to comprehend hell realms, witness those suffering torment; to recognize animal rebirth, look upon those who understand neither benevolence nor righteousness, unable to distinguish closeness from distance."

The text particularly notes that the single vice of "much emptiness with little substance" alone can swiftly cause one's downfall—how much worse when all four forms of dishonesty are committed together? It then presents two positive examples: When Li Ji served as supervising censor, Emperor Shenzong inquired about wheat prices. Li frankly admitted his ignorance, and this honesty unexpectedly won imperial trust. Another case involves Wang Yin, a palace guard who, while reporting a Yellow River breach, not only gave accurate information but voluntarily supplemented details, demonstrating rare integrity.

These stories illustrate how honest individuals ultimately gain recognition and trust. Through contrasting positive and negative examples, the scripture admonishes people to shun exaggeration, slander, deception, and pretense while steadfastly maintaining fundamental honesty.

This passage recounts two stories about integrity and kinship ties.

The first tells of a man named Wang Yin who gained imperial favor through his honesty and reliability. Initially, the emperor had concerns about water conservancy projects, and when floods later destroyed the dikes as predicted, Wang Yin was summoned. The emperor promoted him from a minor post to important positions, eventually making him Commander of the Imperial Guard. Seventeen of his descendants received official appointments. This illustrates how living with integrity brings greater blessings than deceitful schemes.

Next is the story of Fan Zhongyan (posthumously titled Duke Wenzheng) and his devotion to clan relations. Fan believed that while kinship ties might vary in closeness, all descendants were equal in their ancestors' eyes. He considered his high official position the accumulated virtue of his ancestors over generations, and felt he'd be ashamed to face them in the afterlife if he enjoyed wealth alone without caring for his clan. Upon assuming office, he distributed his salary and imperial rewards among relatives. In Suzhou, he purchased 400 acres of fertile land to establish a charitable estate (yizhuang), managed by capable clan members, which provided daily rice rations, seasonal silk distributions, and assistance for weddings and funerals. His son Fan Chunren continued this legacy, expanding the estate and prioritizing distant relatives when assigning official posts. When Fan Zhongyan died, all five of his grandsons still wore plain cloth garments.

The passage concludes with an ancient adage: the dishonest ultimately lose everything, and deceit rebounds upon itself. If even family members harbor suspicions, how much more so in state affairs? Attacking one's kin is particularly reprehensible. The principle of "cherishing kinship" in rites means fulfilling one's proper role in caring for relatives, ensuring no resentment remains between uncles, brothers, and cousins.

This passage elucidates the principles for maintaining kinship relations, citing exemplary conduct from ancient figures: commoners like Gong Fuzi who treated relatives with sincere devotion; Minister Peng Siyong who showed kindness to his clan; Lord Zhang Kangjie (posthumous title) who regularly shared his official salary with nine generations of kin; Zhao Fuyou Shikai who donated funds to aid impoverished clan members; and my own ancestor Lord Gong'an who adopted orphaned clan members, cared for widows, and even arranged their marriages. These all represent models of familial devotion.

When one can cherish kin with such affection, how could mutual attacks occur? What we call "attacking" today manifests as petty calculations, jealousy, and contention among people. These need not reach extreme levels—the mere presence of such attitudes constitutes attack, and we must remain vigilant!

The subsequent eulogy states: Be strict in correcting your own faults, yet generous toward others. Mistaking harshness for honesty is abhorrent to the sages. Most shameful is treating those who deserve kindness with indifference. Regarding kin as strangers in daily life and failing to foster harmony violates fundamental human relationships.

The Celestial Master (Tianshi) of Void-Quietness (Xujing) proclaims in verse:

Human nature is originally pure and complete,

But contact with external realms stirs deluded movements,

From which all manner of false thoughts arise.

A single unwholesome thought

Is equivalent to falling into hell.

Reading these words with reverence

Makes one's hair stand on end and cold sweat flow—

Extinguish the heart's fire,

Tame the restless Qi (vital energy).

These principles serve both

As self-admonishment

And warning for generations to come.

[Note: The translation maintains Daoist terminology (Qi, Tianshi) while contextualizing historical titles and relationships. The poetic section preserves the original's rhythmic quality while clarifying its contemplative intent. Kinship terms are rendered naturally while preserving the hierarchical nuances of the original.]