《太上感應篇》Vol. 8

This passage explores the dialectical relationship between "strength" and "benevolent virtue" (ren-de). Confucius considered steadfastness close to benevolent virtue, while Laozi (the Supreme Venerable Sovereign, highest Daoist deity) viewed unyielding strength as contrary to benevolence. Though these statements appear contradictory, each contains its own wisdom.

The "strength" Confucius praised refers to the noble fortitude of a gentleman (junzi) — an inner resolve so firm one would sacrifice life itself to uphold virtue, hence being "close to benevolence." As he remarked when evaluating his disciple Shen Cheng: "How can someone with excessive desires possess true strength?"

Laozi's warning concerns the violent rigidity of petty men (xiaoren), manifested as external aggression, bullying others and harming all creatures — behavior utterly divorced from benevolent virtue. Thus the Daode Jing states: "The violent and strong do not die a natural death," and "What is stiff and rigid belongs to death." Such unbridled strength inevitably leads to inhumane consequences.

The text presents two contrasting examples: Huan Fan epitomized unyielding cruelty. As Xuzhou governor, he threatened to execute a prefect with his ceremonial staff (symbol of authority) over a property dispute. Later in Jizhou, he despised his superior Lü Zhao and beat his own wife to death with a sword hilt when she urged restraint — textbook manifestations of inhumanity.

In contrast, Bao Zheng (Lord Xiaosu), though famously stern, would immediately correct subordinates' mistakes yet gladly amend his own views when properly challenged. People thus admired his principled flexibility — illustrating the distinction between a gentleman's fortitude and a petty man's brute force.

The passage concludes that even non-violent rigidity carries risks. Yang Yi (Lord Wengong), despite his literary brilliance and imperial favor, eventually lost standing due to his inflexibility and inability to tolerate others' faults. Wang Yucheng (Hanlin Academician) met similar misfortune. These cases demonstrate that steadfastness requires moderation — the true path lies in harmonizing strength and yielding (gang-rou xiangji).

This scripture cautions against obstinacy and tyrannical behavior through several historical anecdotes. It observes:

A strong character does not equate to restraining violent tendencies—how can domineering arrogance ever cultivate benevolent virtue (De)? When virtuous thoughts are severed, all manner of wicked deeds will follow in succession. Like withered trees struggling to revive in spring, those who are tyrannical and dictatorial will ultimately reap what they sow.

The text employs a Buddhist analogy, comparing such people to untamable wild horses. The Supreme Venerable Sovereign (Laozi) similarly warns in the Scripture of the Dharma Wheel against self-righteousness, while Confucius admonishes that disaster inevitably befalls those who are foolish yet obstinate, lowly yet autocratic. When the sages of Confucianism, Buddhism, and Daoism all issue such warnings, how can we not take heed?

Two historical examples illustrate this: Li Fang (posthumously titled "Cultured and Upright"), a renowned Northern Song statesman, was admonished by his colleague Dou Yan for wearing gold and jade ornaments during mourning. He immediately corrected himself and lifelong remembered the principle that "three years of mourning conducted improperly not only violates ritual propriety but shames one before the scholarly community." When Cheng Yi (courtesy name Zhengshu) heard that Fan Chunren (courtesy name Yaofu) was hosting celebratory feasts immediately upon assuming office, he sternly pointed out this breach of ritual decorum.

These accounts collectively demonstrate that in human affairs, one must learn to accept admonition, flowing like water toward virtuous counsel. Persistent stubbornness and cruelty not only alienate the guidance of teachers and friends but also lead one astray from moral cultivation (De), ultimately inviting calamity.

This scripture illustrates the importance of discerning right from wrong in human conduct through several historical anecdotes.

Yao Fu (Shao Yong, a Northern Song Dynasty Neo-Confucian scholar) once flushed with shame for being stingy with possessions. The next day, he deliberately chased to the border to bid farewell to his teacher, admitting that had the teacher not been leaving, he would never have received such admonishment. Those capable of timely self-correction like this naturally earn contemporary renown and blessings for posterity. In contrast, how could the self-willed and tyrannical possibly meet good ends?

The text quotes Zhong Hui (a wise minister of the Shang Dynasty): "The obstinate can hardly accomplish even minor good deeds. The arrogant cannot be corrected, the miserly keep their hearts locked, and the self-opinionated inevitably invite disaster." These are all self-sown bitter fruits.

Regarding perspectives on right and wrong, Zhuangzi proposed relativism with "That has its right and wrong; this also has its right and wrong," suggesting transcendence comes from viewing matters beyond such distinctions. Yet in practical life, we must inevitably make concrete judgments. Xunzi said: "The ability to distinguish right from wrong is called wisdom; confusing them is called folly." Fools disregard cause and effect in reckless judgment, ultimately ruining affairs.

Two positive examples are given: Yin Shilu (Northern Song statesman Yin Zhu) never shied from principled debate, maintaining such clarity that he could calmly arrange his garments and sit upright at death; Zou Su (a Song official), as Palace Commandant, remained scrupulously impartial, never judging rashly. Both maintained composure at life's critical junctures precisely because of their consistent commitment to discernment.

This passage admonishes us: In conducting ourselves, we must clearly distinguish right from wrong—neither obstinately clinging to personal views nor confusing principles. We should learn from Zhuangzi's transcendent perspective while emulating Yin Zhu and Zou Su's adherence to principles in concrete matters. Only thus can we avoid calamity and attain favorable outcomes.

This scripture recounts a tale of karmic retribution. A wine overseer in Zhengzhou, who had never wantonly taken life, was recruited by Zhenwu Zhenjun (True Martial Lord, one of the Four Saints of the North Pole in Daoist veneration) to serve under him. During the Qingli era, when hailstones suddenly rained from the heavens one day, he calmly lay down in a lidless bronze coffin. Instantly, the lid sealed itself shut, and the coffin ascended northward amidst thunderclaps. He now serves as Judge of the North Pole Longevity Bureau (a Daoist divine office overseeing human lifespans), descending annually with Zhenwu Zhenjun to assess worldly merits and faults, determining the length of mortals' lives.

The text emphasizes: had this man not spent his life discerning right from wrong and refraining from reckless judgment, how could Zhenwu Zhenjun have entrusted him with such responsibility? Through contrast, it ironically highlights how those who confuse right and wrong ultimately reap what they sow.

The subsequent "Eulogy" section poetically elucidates this moral worldview: distinguishing good from evil should be as clear as telling black from white, yet fools invert them. The Dao of Heaven observes with microscopic clarity, as bright as the sun. Regarding "alignment and opposition" (moral positioning), noble individuals should align with loyalty and integrity while opposing treachery and deceit; they should embrace righteousness and turn from selfish gain. Two exemplary ministers, Wang Cun and Liu Zhi, are cited: Wang Cun maintained his principles through five dynasties, praised by Sima Guang as "standing firm amidst ten thousand galloping horses"; though criticized for opposing the "Service Exemption Law," Liu Zhi declared, "I align with loyalty and righteousness, and oppose power-hungry schemers," choosing truth over safety.

The core message embodies the Daoist principle of "retribution for good and evil." Through this divine appointment narrative and historical exemplars, it admonishes humanity: those who discern truth and uphold the Dao ultimately receive blessings, while those who confuse morality and chase power inevitably face celestial punishment.

This passage illustrates the dire consequences of violating moral principles and exploiting the common people through the stories of two historical figures.

Li Shizhong and Wu Xiaozong were both men of shifting allegiances. Li Shizhong initially opposed Wang Anshi's (Jinggong) political views, yet when Wang rose to power, he built the "Chuanyan Pavilion" in Shuzhou to curry favor. Wu Xiaozong first criticized the New Policies in imperial examination essays, but after Wang Anshi gained influence, he compiled ten volumes of Alleyway Praises glorifying the reforms. The author poses a pointed question: Can such weathervane behavior be considered virtuous or contemptible?

The commentary then distills the core message: Only actions aligned with moral principle constitute true righteousness (Yi), requiring clear discernment and steadfast commitment. Keeping distance from wickedness while drawing near to virtue allows human affairs to harmonize with celestial intent.

The cases of Wang Zi and Ma Jiang demonstrate the karmic retribution for "extorting achievements through cruelty." As salt well administrator, Wang Zi forced well households to deliver double quotas (demanding 100 catties when only 50 were produced), driving them to ruin. He soon died suddenly—on his death night, an entire family of friends witnessed his ghost dragging an ox's tail while begging for help. Ma Jiang, nicknamed "The Scrub Brush," imposed arbitrary tax levies without regard for actual amounts, ultimately meeting similar retribution.

The text emphasizes: True merit should emerge as naturally as water finding its channel. Deliberate exploitation—whether through excessive taxation or labor abuse—inevitably invites calamity. Just as candles exist to illuminate and boats to carry cargo, forcibly "extracting achievements" perverts these into instruments of oppression.

This passage recounts several karmic retribution stories and discusses the principles of governance. One corrupt official who took bribes developed two symmetrical festering sores on his back resembling flogging marks, so deep they exposed internal organs, ultimately dying in agony. Others like Li Zi, Chen Shu, and Lin Te, who abused their subordinates, met with retribution—either dying untimely deaths or having their family lines extinguished.

The commentary observes that in this world, some tyrannical officials disregard laws to exploit the common people, lining their own pockets before offering the leftovers as tribute to the court. Though they may attain high rank, wealth, and luxurious mansions, neither they nor their descendants escape a wretched end.

The text mentions that in Fengdu (the Daoist underworld), all officials are upright and loyal. For instance, Shao Gongshi serves as the Duke of Southern Radiance, Wu Jizha as the Duke of Northern Radiance, and Jia Yi as the Western Capital’s Prohibition Officer. Never have sycophants held important positions in the underworld. Serving a ruler demands loyalty—a single word of flattery constitutes disloyalty, and disloyal ministers inevitably face divine punishment.

The passage concludes with the example of Emperor Gaozong of Tang installing Wu Zetian as empress: when the emperor hesitated, the famed general Li Ji not only failed to dissuade him but instead said, "This is Your Majesty’s family matter; why consult outsiders?" This enabled Wu Zetian’s rise, ultimately bringing disaster upon the Tang imperial clan. It illustrates how a minister’s failure to offer honest remonstrance can lead to grave consequences.

This scripture reveals two profound truths through historical anecdotes and allegorical tales:

First, consider the case of Empress Wu Zetian of the Tang Dynasty. To consolidate her power, she curried favor with the emperor through flattery, which ultimately led to the near-extinction of the Li imperial lineage. While appearing as self-preservation, this brought greater calamity—soon after her death, her family was exterminated and her tomb desecrated, with all misfortunes returning as karmic retribution. Similarly, Guo Chongtao, a prominent minister of Later Tang, sought to secure his position by supporting Empress Liu, only to be executed by her. These examples demonstrate that relying on sycophancy to please those in power ultimately invites disaster.

Next, bird fables illustrate the importance of gratitude. Buddhist texts compare receiving kindness to growing crops: though seeds need soil, without rain they cannot grow, and at harvest one must not thank only the earth while forgetting the rain's grace. Even birds of prey show gratitude—a falcon at Jianfu Temple would catch small birds at night in winter to warm its talons, releasing them at dawn. When freeing them, it would deliberately fly in the opposite direction to avoid recapturing the same bird. If such fierce creatures understand repaying "the kindness of warm talons," are those who forget favors not worse than beasts?

The text concludes that those who understand gratitude come closest to the Dao. This doesn't mean gratitude equals cultivation, but rather that one's awareness of kindness reveals their daily moral conduct. It also mentions a Northern Song scholar-official named Xu Wenzhong during the Xuanhe era, who treated accompanying soldiers with kindness (though the story is incomplete), further illustrating this principle.

(Note: "Futu" refers to Buddhist pagodas, while "juelie er shi" describes raptors tearing prey apart when feeding.)

This scripture recounts a contrasting tale of gratitude and resentment. A lame soldier encountered a Daoist priest who restored his ability to walk with a small amount of medicinal herbs. Filled with gratitude, the soldier traveled extensively to find his benefactor and express thanks. When they eventually reunited, the soldier tearfully knelt in appreciation, moving the priest to remark: "I've helped many people, but none have shown such heartfelt gratitude as you." The priest then transmitted esoteric cultivation methods to him, and the soldier ultimately attained the Dao.

Another individual, hearing of this, came seeking guidance. The soldier advised him: "Purity and wuwei (non-action) constitute the Dao—simplicity and naturalness are paramount." Upon hearing this, the man experienced sudden enlightenment and likewise attained the Dao. This illustrates that only those who understand gratitude can attain the Dao, yet people like this grateful soldier are exceedingly rare in the world.

The subsequent eulogy criticizes those who repay kindness with ingratitude—individuals more vicious than wolves or tigers, who completely lack basic human morality. Historical examples are cited: During the Spring and Autumn period, Jin official Zhao Dun once saved the starving Ling Zhe under a mulberry tree, who later repaid this debt by rescuing Zhao in his hour of need. Similarly, Yu Rang disfigured himself to avenge his patron Zhi Bo's death in repayment for Zhi's recognition of his talents.

The text then draws upon Buddhist teachings to illustrate the dreadful consequences of resentment: those who die harboring hatred will fall into the Three Wretched Realms of hell, hungry ghosts, or animals. Vivid descriptions follow—those dying with resentment see visions of flying stones and cage imprisonment before their last breath; after hellish retribution, they're reborn as venomous ghosts, then potentially as poisonous creatures like snakes or scorpions. The scripture emphasizes these karmic consequences as incontrovertible truth, citing the example of a Jizhou bandit who, after death in hell, remained obsessively fixated on hating Prefect Zhang Ji who sentenced him—this fixation preventing his liberation.

Through these contrasting narratives, the scripture admonishes people to cultivate gratitude while relinquishing resentment, warning of severe karmic retribution otherwise.

This passage uses several stories to show how resentment can bind a person. The first tells of a ghost who fell into the realm of ghosts because of the consequences of its misdeeds. Still nursing a grudge over having been killed by a woman five hundred lifetimes earlier, it eventually caused that woman’s death in a later rebirth. The second story tells of a mule in Yang Bao’s household, reborn as an animal because of its past misdeeds. It still remembered an old grievance against Wang He, a person who had attained the Dao, and eventually kicked him to death.

These examples show that resentment is what most tightly binds people to themselves, keeping them from liberation forever. The passage then cites an episode involving Master Sengcan, the thirtieth patriarch of Chan Buddhism. The thirty-first patriarch, Daoxin, asked Sengcan how to attain liberation. Sengcan replied, “Who is binding you?” Daoxin answered, “No one is binding me.” Sengcan then said, “If no one is binding you, why seek liberation?” Hearing this, Daoxin suddenly awakened and attained liberation. The story shows that once this principle is understood, attachments naturally fall away, and one is liberated without needing to seek liberation.

The concluding verse cites several examples: Boyi and Shuqi did not blame Heaven or other people, but devoted themselves to seeking benevolence; when Mencius met someone who treated him rudely, he first examined himself; and when we forgive others with reason and compassion, all things can feel the arrival of spring. By contrast, someone like Xi Ke, who held a grudge over another person’s smile, can set off a chain of harmful consequences. Together, these examples show that even a small resentment can become the source of countless evils.