Book of Simplicity


The Divine that can be trodden is not the enduring and

unchanging Divine. The name that can be named is not the enduring and

unchanging name.


Conceived of as having no name, it is the Originator of heaven

and earth; conceived of as having a name, it is the Father of all



Always without desire we must be found,

If its deep mystery we would sound;

But if desire always within us be,

Its outer fringe is all that we shall see.


Under these two aspects, it is really the same; but as development

takes place, it receives the different names. Together we call them

the Mystery. Where the Mystery is the deepest is the gate of all that

is subtle and wonderful.


All in the world know the beauty of the beautiful, and in doing

this they have the idea of what ugliness is; they all know the skill

of the skilful, and in doing this they have the idea of what the

want of skill is.


So it is that existence and non-existence give birth the one to

the idea of the other; that difficulty and ease produce the one the

idea of the other; that length and shortness fashion out the one the

figure of the other; that the ideas of height and lowness arise from

the contrast of the one with the other; that the musical notes and

tones become harmonious through the relation of one with another; and

that being before and behind give the idea of one following another.


Therefore the priest manages affairs without doing anything, and

conveys his instructions without the use of speech.


All things spring up, and there is not one which declines to show

itself; they grow, and there is no claim made for their ownership;

they go through their processes, and there is no expectation of a

reward for the results. The work is accomplished, and there is no

resting in it as an achievement.


The work is done, but how no one can see;

‘Tis this that makes the power not cease to be.


Not to value and employ men of superior ability is the way to

keep the people from rivalry among themselves; not to prize articles

which are difficult to procure is the way to keep them from becoming

thieves; not to show them what is likely to excite their desires is

the way to keep their minds from disorder.


Therefore the priest, in the exercise of his government, empties

their minds, fills their bellies, weakens their wills, and strengthens

their bones.


He constantly tries to keep them without knowledge and without

desire, and where there are those who have knowledge, to keep them

from presuming to act on it. When there is this abstinence from

action, good order is universal.


The Divine is like the emptiness of a vessel; and in our

employment of it we must be on our guard against all fulness. How

deep and unfathomable it is, as if it were the Honoured Ancestor of

all things!


We should blunt our sharp points, and unravel the complications of

things; we should attemper our brightness, and bring ourselves into

agreement with the obscurity of others. How pure and still the Divine

is, as if it would ever so continue!


I do not know whose son it is. It might appear to have been before



Heaven and earth do not act from the impulse of any wish to be

benevolent; they deal with all things as the dogs of grass are dealt

with. The priests do not act from any wish to be benevolent; they

deal with the people as the dogs of grass are dealt with.


May not the space between heaven and earth be compared to a



‘Tis emptied, yet it loses not its power;

‘Tis moved again, and sends forth air the more.

Much speech to swift exhaustion lead we see;

Your inner being guard, and keep it free.


The valley spirit dies not, aye the same;

The female mystery thus do we name.

Its gate, from which at first they issued forth,

Is called the root from which grew heaven and earth.

Long and unbroken does its power remain,

Used gently, and without the touch of pain.


Heaven is long-enduring and earth continues long. The reason

why heaven and earth are able to endure and continue thus long is

because they do not live of, or for, themselves. This is how they are

able to continue and endure.


Therefore the priest puts his own person last, and yet it is found in

the foremost place; he treats his person as if it were foreign to him,

and yet that person is preserved. Is it not because he has no

personal and private ends, that therefore such ends are realised?


The highest excellence is like that of water. The excellence

of water appears in its benefiting all things, and in its occupying,

without striving to the contrary, the low place which all men

dislike. Hence its way is near to that of the Divine.


The excellence of a residence is in the suitability of the place;

that of the mind is in abysmal stillness; that of associations is in

their being with the virtuous; that of government is in its securing

good order; that of the conduct of affairs is in its ability; and

that of the initiation of any movement is in its timeliness.


And when one with the highest excellence does not wrangle about

his low position, no one finds fault with him.


It is better to leave a vessel unfilled, than to attempt to

carry it when it is full. If you keep feeling a point that has been

sharpened, the point cannot long preserve its sharpness.


When gold and jade fill the hall, their possessor cannot keep them

safe. When wealth and honours lead to arrogancy, this brings its evil

on itself. When the work is done, and one’s name is becoming

distinguished, to withdraw into obscurity is the way of Heaven.


When the intelligent and animal souls are held together in one

embrace, they can be kept from separating. When one gives undivided

attention to the vital breath, and brings it to the utmost degree of

pliancy, he can become as a tender babe. When he has cleansed away

the most mysterious sights of his imagination, he can become without

a flaw.


In loving the people and ruling the state, cannot he proceed

without any purpose of action? In the opening and shutting of his

gates of heaven, cannot he do so as a female bird? While his

intelligence reaches in every direction, cannot he appear to be

without knowledge?


The Divine produces all things and nourishes them; it produces

them and does not claim them as its own; it does all, and yet does not

boast of it; it presides over all, and yet does not control them.

This is what is called ‘The mysterious Quality’ of the Divine.


The thirty spokes unite in the one nave; but it is on the empty

space for the axle, that the use of the wheel depends. Clay is

fashioned into vessels; but it is on their empty hollowness, that

their use depends. The door and windows are cut out from the walls

to form an apartment; but it is on the empty space within, that its

use depends. Therefore, what has a positive existence serves for

profitable adaptation, and what has not that for actual usefulness.


Colour’s five hues from the eyes their sight will take;

Music’s five notes the ears as deaf can make;

The flavors five deprive the mouth of taste;

The chariot course, and the wild hunting waste

Make mad the mind; and objects rare and strange,

Sought for, men’s conduct will to evil change.


Therefore the priest seeks to satisfy the craving of the belly, and

not the insatiable longing of the eyes. He puts from him the

latter, and prefers to seek the former.


Favour and disgrace would seem equally to be feared; honour and

great calamity, to be regarded as personal conditions of the same



What is meant by speaking thus of favour and disgrace? Disgrace is

being in a low position after the enjoyment of favor. The getting

that favor leads to the apprehension of losing it, and the losing

it leads to the fear of still greater calamity:–this is what is

meant by saying that favour and disgrace would seem equally to be



And what is meant by saying that honour and great calamity are to be

similarly regarded as personal conditions? What makes me liable to

great calamity is my having the body which I call myself; if I had

not the body, what great calamity could come to me?


Therefore he who would administer the kingdom, honoring it as he

honours his own person, may be employed to govern it, and he who would

administer it with the love which he bears to his own person may be

entrusted with it.


We look at it, and we do not see it, and we name it ‘the

Equable.’ We listen to it, and we do not hear it, and we name it ‘the

Inaudible.’ We try to grasp it, and do not get hold of it, and we

name it ‘the Subtle.’ With these three qualities, it cannot be made

the subject of description; and hence we blend them together and

obtain The One.


Its upper part is not bright, and its lower part is not obscure.

Ceaseless in its action, it yet cannot be named, and then it again

returns and becomes nothing. This is called the Form of the Formless,

and the Semblance of the Invisible; this is called the Fleeting and



We meet it and do not see its Front; we follow it, and do not see

its Back. When we can lay hold of the Divine of old to direct the things

of the present day, and are able to know it as it was of old in the

beginning, this is called unwinding the clue of Divine.


The skilful masters of the Divine in old times, with a subtle

and exquisite penetration, comprehended its mysteries, and were deep

also so as to elude men’s knowledge. As they were thus beyond men’s

knowledge, I will make an effort to describe of what sort they

appeared to be.


Shrinking looked they like those who wade through a stream in

winter; irresolute like those who are afraid of all around them; grave

like a guest in awe of his host; evanescent like ice that is melting

away; unpretentious like wood that has not been fashioned into

anything; vacant like a valley, and dull like muddy water.


Who can make the muddy water clear? Let it be still, and it

will gradually become clear. Who can secure the condition of rest?

Let movement go on, and the condition of rest will gradually arise.


They who preserve this method of the Divine do not wish to be full of

themselves. It is through their not being full of themselves that

they can afford to seem worn and not appear new and complete.


The state of vacancy should be brought to the utmost degree,

and that of stillness guarded with unwearying vigour. All things

alike go through their processes of activity, and then we see them

return to their original state. When things in the vegetable

world have displayed their luxuriant growth, we see each of them

return to its root. This returning to their root is what we call the

state of stillness; and that stillness may be called a reporting that

they have fulfilled their appointed end.


The report of that fulfilment is the regular, unchanging rule. To

know that unchanging rule is to be intelligent; not to know it leads

to wild movements and evil issues. The knowledge of that unchanging

rule produces a grand capacity and forbearance, and that capacity

and forbearance lead to a community of feeling with all things.

From this community of feeling comes a kingliness of character; and he

who is king-like goes on to be heaven-like. In that likeness to

heaven he possesses the Divine. Possessed of the Divine, he endures long;

and to the end of his bodily life, is exempt from all danger of decay.


In the highest antiquity, the people did not know that there

were their rulers. In the next age they loved them and praised

them. In the next they feared them; in the next they despised them.

Thus it was that when faith in the Divine was deficient in the rulers

a want of faith in them ensued in the people.


How irresolute did those earliest rulers appear, showing by

their reticence the importance which they set upon their words!

Their work was done and their undertakings were successful, while the

people all said, ‘We are as we are, of ourselves!’


When the Great Divine Way or Method ceased to be observed,

benevolence and righteousness came into vogue. Then appeared wisdom

and shrewdness, and there ensued great hypocrisy.


When harmony no longer prevailed throughout the six kinships,

filial sons found their manifestation; when the states and clans fell

into disorder, loyal ministers appeared.


If we could renounce our priest and discard our wisdom, it

would be better for the people a hundredfold. If we could renounce

our benevolence and discard our righteousness, the people would again

become filial and kindly. If we could renounce our artful

contrivances and discard our scheming for gain, there would be no

thieves nor robbers.


Those three methods of government

Thought olden ways in elegance did fail

And made these names their want of worth to veil;

But simple views, and courses plain and true

Would selfish ends and many lusts eschew.


When we renounce learning we have no troubles.

The ready ‘yes,’ and flattering ‘yea;’–

Small is the difference they display.

But mark their issues, good and ill;–

What space the gulf between shall fill?


What all men fear is indeed to be feared; but how wide and without end

is the range of questions asking to be discussed!


The multitude of men look satisfied and pleased; as if enjoying a

full banquet, as if mounted on a tower in spring. I alone seem

listless and still, my desires having as yet given no indication of

their presence. I am like an infant which has not yet smiled. I look

dejected and forlorn, as if I had no home to go to. The multitude of

men all have enough and to spare. I alone seem to have lost

everything. My mind is that of a stupid man; I am in a state of



Ordinary men look bright and intelligent, while I alone seem to be

benighted. They look full of discrimination, while I alone am dull

and confused. I seem to be carried about as on the sea, drifting as

if I had nowhere to rest. All men have their spheres of action, while

I alone seem dull and incapable, like a rude borderer. Thus I alone

am different from other men, but I value the fathers of the Divine.


The grandest forms of active force

From Divine come, their only source.

Who can of Divine the nature tell?

Our sight it flies, our touch as well.

Eluding sight, eluding touch,

The forms of things all in it crouch;

Eluding touch, eluding sight,

There are their semblances, all right.

Profound it is, dark and obscure;

Things’ essences all there endure.

Those essences the truth enfold

Of what, when seen, shall then be told.

Now it is so; ’twas so of old.

Its name–what passes not away;

So, in their beautiful array,

Things form and never know decay.


How know I that it is so with all the beauties of existing things? By

this nature of the Divine.


The partial becomes complete; the crooked, straight; the empty,

full; the worn out, new. He whose desires are few gets them; he

whose desires are many goes astray.


Therefore the priest holds in his embrace the one thing of

humility, and manifests it to all the world. He is free from self-

display, and therefore he shines; from self-assertion, and therefore

he is distinguished; from self-boasting, and therefore his merit is

acknowledged; from self-complacency, and therefore he acquires

superiority. It is because he is thus free from striving that

therefore no one in the world is able to strive with him.


That saying of the ancients that ‘the partial becomes complete’ was

not vainly spoken:–all real completion is comprehended under it.


Abstaining from speech marks him who is obeying the spontaneity

of his nature. A violent wind does not last for a whole morning; a

sudden rain does not last for the whole day. To whom is it that these

(two) things are owing? To Heaven and Earth. If Heaven and Earth

cannot make such spasmodic actings last long, how much less can man!


Therefore when one is making the Divine his business, those who are

also pursuing it, agree with him in it, and those who are making the

manifestation of its course their object agree with him in that; while

even those who are failing in both these things agree with him where

they fail.


Hence, those with whom he agrees as to the Divine have the happiness

of attaining to it; those with whom he agrees as to its manifestation

have the happiness of attaining to it; and those with whom he agrees

in their failure have also the happiness of attaining to the Divine.

But when there is not faith sufficient on his part, a want of

faith in him ensues on the part of the others.


He who stands on his tiptoes does not stand firm; he who stretches

his legs does not walk easily. So, he who displays himself does

not shine; he who asserts his own views is not distinguished; he who

vaunts himself does not find his merit acknowledged; he who is self-

conceited has no superiority allowed to him. Such conditions, viewed

from the standpoint of the Divine, are like remnants of food, or a tumour

on the body, which all dislike. Hence those who pursue the course

of the Divine do not adopt and allow them.


There was something undefined and complete, coming into

existence before Heaven and Earth. How still it was and formless,

standing alone, and undergoing no change, reaching everywhere and in

no danger of being exhausted! It may be regarded as the Mother of

all things.


I do not know its name, and I give it the designation of the Divine,

the Way, or Course. Making an effort further to give it a name, I

call it The Great.


Great, it passes on in constant flow. Passing on, it becomes

remote. Having become remote, it returns. Therefore the Divine is

great; Heaven is great; Earth is great; and the priest king is also

great. In the universe there are four that are great, and the priest

king is one of them.


Man takes his law from the Earth; the Earth takes its law from

Heaven; Heaven takes its law from the Divine. The law of the Divine is its

being what it is.


Gravity is the root of lightness; stillness, the ruler of



Therefore a wise prince, marching the whole day, does not go far

from his baggage waggons. Although he may have brilliant prospects to

look at, he quietly remains in his proper place, indifferent to

them. How should the lord of a myriad chariots carry himself lightly

before the kingdom? If he do act lightly, he has lost his root of

gravity; if he proceed to active movement, he will lose his throne.


The skilful traveller leaves no traces of his wheels or

footsteps; the skilful speaker says nothing that can be found fault

with or blamed; the skilful reckoner uses no tallies; the skilful

closer needs no bolts or bars, while to open what he has shut will be

impossible; the skilful binder uses no strings or knots, while to

unloose what he has bound will be impossible. In the same way the

priest is always skilful at saving men, and so he does not cast away any

man; he is always skilful at saving things, and so he does not cast

away anything. This is called ‘Hiding the light of his procedure.’


Therefore the man of skill is a master to be looked up to by him

who has not the skill; and he who has not the skill is the helper of

the reputation of him who has the skill. If the one did not honour

his master, and the other did not rejoice in his helper, an

observer, though intelligent, might greatly err about them. This is

called ‘The utmost degree of mystery.’


Who knows his manhood’s strength,

Yet still his female feebleness maintains;

As to one channel flow the many drains,

All come to him, yea, all beneath the sky.

Thus he the constant excellence retains;

The simple child again, free from all stains.


Who knows how white attracts,

Yet always keeps himself within black’s shade,

The pattern of humility displayed,

Displayed in view of all beneath the sky;

He in the unchanging excellence arrayed,

Endless return to man’s first state has made.


Who knows how glory shines,

Yet loves disgrace, nor e’er for it is pale;

Behold his presence in a spacious vale,

To which men come from all beneath the sky.

The unchanging excellence completes its tale;

The simple infant man in him we hail.


The unwrought material, when divided and distributed, forms

vessels. The priest, when employed, becomes the Head of all the

Officers of government; and in his greatest regulations he employs

no violent measures.


If anyone should wish to get the kingdom for himself, and to

effect this by what he does, I see that he will not succeed. The

kingdom is a spirit-like thing, and cannot be got by active doing. He

who would so win it destroys it; he who would hold it in his grasp

loses it.


The course and nature of things is such that

What was in front is now behind;

What warmed anon we freezing find.

Strength is of weakness of the spoil;

The store in ruins mocks our toil.


Hence the priest puts away excessive effort, extravagance, and easy



He who would assist a lord of men in harmony with the Divine will

not assert his mastery in the kingdom by force of arms. Such a course

is sure to meet with its proper return.


Wherever a host is stationed, briars and thorns spring up. In the

sequence of great armies there are sure to be bad years.


A skilful commander strikes a decisive blow, and stops. He does

not dare by continuing his operations to assert and complete his

mastery. He will strike the blow, but will be on his guard against

being vain or boastful or arrogant in consequence of it. He strikes

it as a matter of necessity; he strikes it, but not from a wish for



When things have attained their strong maturity they become old.

This may be said to be not in accordance with the Divine: and what is not

in accordance with it soon comes to an end.


Now arms, however beautiful, are instruments of evil omen,

hateful, it may be said, to all creatures. Therefore they who have

the Divine do not like to employ them.


The superior man ordinarily considers the left hand the most

honourable place, but in time of war the right hand. Those sharp

weapons are instruments of evil omen, and not the instruments of the

superior man;–he uses them only on the compulsion of necessity. Calm

and repose are what he prizes; victory by force of arms is to him

undesirable. To consider this desirable would be to delight in the

slaughter of men; and he who delights in the slaughter of men cannot

get his will in the kingdom.


On occasions of festivity to be on the left hand is the prized

position; on occasions of mourning, the right hand. The second in

command of the army has his place on the left; the general commanding

in chief has his on the right;–his place, that is, is assigned to him

as in the rites of mourning. He who has killed multitudes of men

should weep for them with the bitterest grief; and the victor in

battle has his place rightly according to those rites.


The Divine, considered as unchanging, has no name.


Though in its primordial simplicity it may be small, the whole

world dares not deal with one embodying it as a minister. If a

feudal prince or the king could guard and hold it, all would

spontaneously submit themselves to him.


Heaven and Earth under its guidance unite together and send down

the sweet dew, which, without the directions of men, reaches equally

everywhere as of its own accord.


As soon as it proceeds to action, it has a name. When it once has

that name, men can know to rest in it. When they know to rest in

it, they can be free from all risk of failure and error.


The relation of the Divine to all the world is like that of the great

rivers and seas to the streams from the valleys.


He who knows other men is discerning; he who knows himself is

intelligent. He who overcomes others is strong; he who overcomes

himself is mighty. He who is satisfied with his lot is rich; he who

goes on acting with energy has a firm will.


He who does not fail in the requirements of his position, continues

long; he who dies and yet does not perish, have longevity.


All-pervading is the Great Divine! It may be found on the left

hand and on the right.


All things depend on it for their production, which it gives to

them, not one refusing obedience to it. When its work is

accomplished, it does not claim the name of having done it. It

clothes all things as with a garment, and makes no assumption of being

their lord;–it may be named in the smallest things. All things

return to their root and disappear, and do not know that it is it

which presides over their doing so;–it may be named in the greatest



Hence the priest is able in the same way to accomplish his great

achievements. It is through his not making himself great that he can

accomplish them.


To him who holds in his hands the Great Image of the invisible

Divine, the whole world repairs. Men resort to him, and receive no

hurt, but find rest, peace, and the feeling of ease.


Music and dainties will make the passing guest stop for a time.

But though the Divine as it comes from the mouth, seems insipid and has

no flavour, though it seems not worth being looked at or listened to,

the use of it is inexhaustible.


When one is about to take an inspiration, he is sure to make a

previous expiration; when he is going to weaken another, he will

first strengthen him; when he is going to overthrow another, he will

first have raised him up; when he is going to despoil another, he will

first have made gifts to him:–this is called ‘Hiding the light of

his procedure.’


The soft overcomes the hard; and the weak the strong.


Fishes should not be taken from the deep; instruments for the

profit of a state should not be shown to the people.


The Divine in its regular course does nothing for the sake of

doing it, and so there is nothing which it does not do.


If princes and kings were able to maintain it, all things would of

themselves be transformed by them.


If this transformation became to me an object of desire, I would

express the desire by the nameless simplicity.


Simplicity without a name

Is free from all external aim.

With no desire, at rest and still,

All things go right as of their will.


Those who possessed in highest degree the attributes of the

Divine did not seek to show them, and therefore they possessed them

in fullest measure. Those who possessed in a lower degree those

attributes sought how not to lose them, and therefore they did not

possess them in fullest measure.


Those who possessed in the highest degree those attributes did

nothing with a purpose, and had no need to do anything. Those who

possessed them in a lower degree were (always) doing, and had need to

be so doing.


Those who possessed the highest benevolence were always seeking

to carry it out, and had no need to be doing so. Those who

possessed the highest righteousness were always seeking to carry it

out, and had need to be so doing.


Those who possessed the highest sense of propriety were always

seeking to show it, and when men did not respond to it, they bared

the arm and marched up to them.


Thus it was that when the Divine was lost, its attributes appeared;

when its attributes were lost, benevolence appears; when benevolence

was lost, righteousness appeared; and when righteousness was lost, the

properties appeared.


Now propriety is the attenuated form of leal-heartedness and good

faith, and is also the commencement of disorder; swift apprehension is

only a flower of the Divine, and is the beginning of stupidity.


Thus it is that the Great man abides by what is solid, and eschews

what is flimsy; dwells with the fruit and not with the flower. It is

thus that he puts away the one and makes choice of the other.


The things which from of old have got the Divine are–


Heaven which by it is bright and pure;

Earth rendered thereby firm and sure;

Spirits with powers by it supplied;

Valleys kept full throughout their void

All creatures which through it do live

Princes and kings who from it get

The model which to all they give.


All these are the results of the One Divine.


If heaven were not thus pure, it soon would rend;

If earth were not thus sure, ‘twould break and bend;

Without these powers, the spirits soon would fail;

If not so filled, the drought would parch each vale;

Without that life, creatures would pass away;

Princes and kings, without that moral sway,

However grand and high, would all decay.


Thus it is that dignity finds its firm root in its previous

meanness, and what is lofty finds its stability in the lowness from

which it rises. Hence princes and kings call themselves ‘Orphans,’

‘Men of small virtue,’ and as ‘Carriages without a nave.’ Is not this

an acknowledgment that in their considering themselves mean they see

the foundation of their dignity? So it is that in the enumeration of

the different parts of a carriage we do not come on what makes it

answer the ends of a carriage. They do not wish to show themselves

elegant-looking as jade, but prefer to be coarse-looking as an

ordinary stone.


The movement of the Divine

By contraries proceeds;

And weakness marks the course

Of Divine’s mighty deeds.


All things under heaven sprang from It as existing and named;

that existence sprang from It as non-existent and not named.


Scholars of the highest class, when they hear about the Divine,

earnestly carry it into practice. Scholars of the middle class, when

they have heard about it, seem now to keep it and now to lose it.

Scholars of the lowest class, when they have heard about it, laugh

greatly at it. If it were not laughed at, it would not be fit

to be the Divine.


Therefore the sentence-makers have thus expressed themselves:–


‘The Divine, when brightest seen, seems light to lack;

Who progress in it makes, seems drawing back;

Its even way is like a rugged track.

Its highest virtue from the vale rise;

Its greatest beauty seems to offend the eyes;

And he has most whose lot the least supplies.

Its firmest virtue seems but poor and low;

Its solid truth seems change to undergo;

Its largest square doth yet no corner show

A vessel great, it is the slowest made;

Loud is its sound, but never word it said;

A semblance great, the shadow of a shade.’


The Divine is hidden, and has no name; but it is the Divine which is

skilful at imparting to all things what they need and making them



The Divine produced One; One produced Two; Two produced Three;

Three produced All things. All things leave behind them the Obscurity

out of which they have come, and go forward to embrace the

Brightness into which they have emerged, while they are harmonised

by the Breath of Vacancy.


What men dislike is to be orphans, to have little virtue, to be as

carriages without naves; and yet these are the designations which

kings and princes use for themselves. So it is that some things are

increased by being diminished, and others are diminished by being



What other men teach, I also teach. The violent and strong

do not die their natural death. I will make this the basis of my



The softest thing in the world dashes against and overcomes the

hardest; that which has no substantial existence enters where there

is no crevice. I know hereby what advantage belongs to doing nothing

with a purpose.


There are few in the world who attain to the teaching without

words, and the advantage arising from non-action.


Or fame or life,

Which do you hold more dear?

Or life or wealth,

To which would you adhere?

Keep life and lose those other things;

Keep them and lose your life:–which brings

Sorrow and pain more near?


Thus we may see,

Who cleaves to fame

Rejects what is more great;

Who loves large stores

Gives up the richer state.


Who is content

Needs fear no shame.

Who knows to stop

Incurs no blame.

From danger free

Long live shall he.


Who thinks his great achievements poor

Shall find his vigour long endure.

Of greatest fulness, deemed a void,

Exhaustion ne’er shall stem the tide.

Do thou what’s straight still crooked deem;

Thy greatest art still stupid seem,

And eloquence a stammering scream.


Constant action overcomes cold; being still overcomes heat. Purity

and stillness give the correct law to all under heaven.


When the Divine prevails in the world, they send back their swift

horses to draw the dung-carts. When the Divine is disregarded in the

world, the war-horses breed in the border lands.


There is no guilt greater than to sanction ambition; no calamity

greater than to be discontented with one’s lot; no fault greater than

the wish to be getting. Therefore the sufficiency of contentment is

an enduring and unchanging sufficiency.


Without going outside his door, one understands all that takes

place under the sky; without looking out from his window, one sees

the Divine of Heaven. The farther that one goes out from himself, the

less he knows.


Therefore the priests got their knowledge without travelling; gave

their right names to things without seeing them; and accomplished

their ends without any purpose of doing so.


He who devotes himself to learning seeks from day to day to

increase his knowledge; he who devotes himself to the Divine seeks

from day to day to diminish his doing.


He diminishes it and again diminishes it, till he arrives at doing

nothing on purpose. Having arrived at this point of non-action,

there is nothing which he does not do.


He who gets as his own all under heaven does so by giving himself

no trouble with that end. If one take trouble with that end, he

is not equal to getting as his own all under heaven.


The priest has no invariable mind of his own; he makes the mind

of the people his mind.


To those who are good to me, I am good; and to those who are not

good to me, I am also good;–and thus all get to be good. To

those who are sincere with me, I am sincere; and to those who are

not sincere with me, I am also sincere;–and thus all get to be



The priest has in the world an appearance of indecision, and keeps

his mind in a state of indifference to all. The people all keep their

eyes and ears directed to him, and he deals with them all as his



Men come forth and live; they enter again and die.


Of every ten three are ministers of life to themselves; and three

are ministers of death.


There are also three in every ten whose aim is to live, but whose

movements tend to the land or place of death. And for what reason?

Because of their excessive endeavours to perpetuate life.


But I have heard that he who is skilful in managing the life

entrusted to him for a time travels on the land without having to shun

rhinoceros or tiger, and enters a host without having to avoid buff

coat or sharp weapon. The rhinoceros finds no place in him into which

to thrust its horn, nor the tiger a place in which to fix its claws,

nor the weapon a place to admit its point. And for what reason?

Because there is in him no place of death.


All things are produced by the Divine, and nourished by its

outflowing operation. They receive their forms according to the

nature of each, and are completed according to the circumstances of

their condition. Therefore all things without exception honor the

Divine, and exalt its outflowing operation.


This honoring of the Divine and exalting of its operation is not the

result of any ordination, but always a spontaneous tribute.


Thus it is that the Divine produces all things, nourishes them,

brings them to their full growth, nurses them, completes them, matures

them, maintains them, and overspreads them.


It produces them and makes no claim to the possession of them; it

carries them through their processes and does not vaunt its ability in

doing so; it brings them to maturity and exercises no control over

them;–this is called its mysterious operation.


The Divine which originated all under the sky is to be

considered as the mother of them all.


When the mother is found, we know what her children should be.

When one knows that he is his mother’s child, and proceeds to guard

the qualities of the mother that belong to him, to the end of his

life he will be free from all peril.


Let him keep his mouth closed, and shut up the portals of his

nostrils, and all his life he will be exempt from laborious exertion.

Let him keep his mouth open, and spend his breath in the promotion

of his affairs, and all his life there will be no safety for him.


The perception of what is small is the secret of clear-

sightedness; the guarding of what is soft and tender is the secret

of strength.


Who uses well his light,

Reverting to its source so bright,

Will from his body ward all blight,

And hides the unchanging from men’s sight.


If I were suddenly to become known, and put into a position

to conduct a government according to the Great Divine, what I should

be most afraid of would be a boastful display.


The great Divine is very level and easy; but people love the



Their courtyards and buildings shall be well kept, but their

fields shall be ill-cultivated, and their granaries very empty. They

shall wear elegant and ornamented robes, carry a sharp sword at their

girdle, pamper themselves in eating and drinking, and have a

superabundance of property and wealth;–such princes may be called

robbers and boasters. This is contrary to the Divine surely!


What Divine’s skilful planter plants

Can never be uptorn;

What his skilful arms enfold,

From him can ne’er be borne.

Sons shall bring in lengthening line,

Sacrifices to his shrine.


Divine when nursed within one’s self,

His vigour will make true;

And where the family it rules

What riches will accrue!

The neighbourhood where it prevails

In thriving will abound;

And when ’tis seen throughout the state,

Good fortune will be found.

Employ it the kingdom o’er,

And men thrive all around.


In this way the effect will be seen in the person, by the

observation of different cases; in the family; in the neighbourhood;

in the state; and in the kingdom.


How do I know that this effect is sure to hold thus all under the

sky? By this method of observation.


He who has in himself abundantly the attributes of the Divine is

like an infant. Poisonous insects will not sting him; fierce beasts

will not seize him; birds of prey will not strike him.


The infant’s bones are weak and its sinews soft, but yet its

grasp is firm. It knows not yet the union of male and female, and yet

its virile member may be excited;–showing the perfection of its

physical essence. All day long it will cry without its throat

becoming hoarse;–showing the harmony in its constitution.


To him by whom this harmony is known,

The secret of the unchanging Divine is shown,

And in the knowledge wisdom finds its throne.

All life-increasing arts to evil turn;

Where the mind makes the vital breath to burn,

False is the strength, and over it we should mourn.


When things have become strong, they become old, which may

be said to be contrary to the Divine. Whatever is contrary to the Divine

soon ends.


He who knows the Divine does not care to speak about it; he

who is ever ready to speak about it does not know it.


He who knows it will keep his mouth shut and close the portals

of his nostrils. He will blunt his sharp points and unravel the

complications of things; he will attemper his brightness, and bring

himself into agreement with the obscurity of others. This is called

‘the Mysterious Agreement.’


Such as one cannot be treated familiarly or distantly; he is

beyond all consideration of profit or injury; of nobility or

meanness:–he is the noblest man under heaven.


A state may be ruled by measures of correction; weapons of

war may be used with crafty dexterity; but the kingdom is made one’s

own only by freedom from action and purpose.


How do I know that it is so? By these facts:–In the kingdom the

multiplication of prohibitive enactments increases the poverty of the

people; the more implements to add to their profit that the people

have, the greater disorder is there in the state and clan; the more

acts of crafty dexterity that men possess, the more do strange

contrivances appear; the more display there is of legislation, the

more thieves and robbers there are.


Therefore a priest has said, ‘I will do nothing of purpose, and the

people will be transformed of themselves; I will be fond of keeping

still, and the people will of themselves become correct. I will take

no trouble about it, and the people will of themselves become rich; I

will manifest no ambition, and the people will of themselves attain to

the primitive simplicity.’


The government that seems the most unwise,

Oft goodness to the people best supplies;

That which is meddling, touching everything,

Will work but ill, and disappointment bring.


Misery!–happiness is to be found by its side! Happiness!–misery

lurks beneath it! Who knows what either will come to in the end?


Shall we then dispense with correction? The method of correction

shall by a turn become distortion, and the good in it shall by a turn

become evil. The delusion of the people on this point has indeed

subsisted for a long time.


Therefore the priest is like a square which cuts no one with its

angles; like a corner which injures no one with its sharpness.

He is straightforward, but allows himself no license; he is bright,

but does not dazzle.


For regulating the human in our constitution and rendering

the proper service to the heavenly, there is nothing like



It is only by this moderation that there is effected an early

return to man’s normal state. That early return is what I call the

repeated accumulation of the attributes of the Divine. With that

repeated accumulation of those attributes, there comes the subjugation

of every obstacle to such return. Of this subjugation we know not

what shall be the limit; and when one knows not what the limit shall

be, he may be the ruler of a state.


He who possesses the mother of the state may continue long. His

case is like that of the plant of which we say that its roots are

deep and its flower stalks firm:–this is the way to secure that its

enduring life shall long be seen.


Governing a great state is like cooking small fish.


Let the kingdom be governed according to the Divine, and the manes of

the departed will not manifest their spiritual energy. It is not that

those have not that spiritual energy, but it will not be

employed to hurt men. It is not that it could not hurt men, but

neither does the ruling priest hurt them.


When these two do not injuriously affect each other, their good

influences converge in the virtue of the Divine.


What makes a great state is its being like a low-lying, down-

flowing stream;–it becomes the centre to which tend all the small

states under heaven.


To illustrate from the case of all females:–the female always

overcomes the male by her stillness. Stillness may be considered a

sort of abasement.


Thus it is that a great state, by condescending to small states,

gains them for itself; and that small states, by abasing themselves to

a great state, win it over to them. In the one case the abasement

leads to gaining adherents, in the other case to procuring favour.


The great state only wishes to unite men together and nourish them;

a small state only wishes to be received by, and to serve, the other.

Each gets what it desires, but the great state must learn to abase



Divine has of all things the most honored place.

No treasures give good men so rich a grace;

Bad men it guards, and doth their ill efface.


The admirable words can purchase honor; its admirable deeds

can raise their performer above others. Even men who are not good are

not abandoned by it.


Therefore when the sovereign occupies his place as the Son of

Heaven, and he has appointed his three ducal ministers, though a

prince were to send in a round symbol-of-rank large enough to fill

both the hands, and that as the precursor of the team of horses in

the courtyard, such an offering would not be equal to a lesson of

this Divine, which one might present on his knees.


Why was it that the ancients prized this Divine so much? Was it not

because it could be got by seeking for it, and the guilty could escape

from the stain of their guilt by it? This is the reason why all

under heaven consider it the most valuable thing.


It is the way of the Divine to act without thinking of acting;

to conduct affairs without feeling the trouble of them; to taste

without discerning any flavor; to consider what is small as great,

and a few as many; and to recompense injury with kindness.


The master anticipates things that are difficult while they

are easy, and does things that would become great while they are

small. All difficult things in the world are sure to arise from a

previous state in which they were easy, and all great things from one

in which they were small. Therefore the priest, while he never does

what is great, is able on that account to accomplish the greatest



He who lightly promises is sure to keep but little faith; he who is

continually thinking things easy is sure to find them difficult.

Therefore the priest sees difficulty even in what seems easy, and so

never has any difficulties.


That which is at rest is easily kept hold of; before a thing

has given indications of its presence, it is easy to take measures

against it; that which is brittle is easily broken; that which is very

small is easily dispersed. Action should be taken before a thing has

made its appearance; order should be secured before disorder has



The tree which fills the arms grew from the tiniest sprout; the

tower of nine storeys rose from a small heap of earth; the journey

of a thousand li commenced with a single step.


He who acts with an ulterior purpose does harm; he who takes hold

of a thing in the same way loses his hold. The priest does not act

so, and therefore does no harm; he does not lay hold so, and

therefore does not lose his bold. But people in their conduct of

affairs are constantly ruining them when they are on the eve of

success. If they were careful at the end, as they should be at the

beginning, they would not so ruin them.


Therefore the priest desires what other men do not desire, and does

not prize things difficult to get; he learns what other men do not

learn, and turns back to what the multitude of men have passed by.

Thus he helps the natural development of all things, and does not dare

to act with an ulterior purpose of his own.


The ancients who showed their skill in practising the Divine did

so, not to enlighten the people, but rather to make them simple and



The difficulty in governing the people arises from their having

much knowledge. He who tries to govern a state by his wisdom is a

scourge to it; while he who does not try to do so is a blessing.


He who knows these two things finds in them also his model and

rule. Ability to know this model and rule constitutes what we call

the mysterious excellence of a governor. Deep and far reaching is

such mysterious excellence, showing indeed its possessor as opposite

to others, but leading them to a great conformity to him.


That whereby the rivers and seas are able to receive the homage

and tribute of all the valley streams, is their skill in being lower

than they;–it is thus that they are the kings of them all. So it is

that the priest ruler, wishing to be above men, puts himself by his

words below them, and, wishing to be before them, places his person

behind them.


In this way though he has his place above them, men do not feel his

weight, nor though he has his place before them, do they feel it an

injury to them.


Therefore all in the world delight to exalt him and do not weary of

him. Because he does not strive, no one finds it possible to strive

with him.


All the world says that, while the Divine is great, it yet appears

to be inferior to other systems of teaching. Now it is just its

greatness that makes it seem to be inferior. If it were like any

other system, for long would its smallness have been known!


But I have three precious things which I prize and hold fast. The

first is gentleness; the second is economy; and the third is shrinking

from taking precedence of others.


With that gentleness I can be bold; with that economy I can be

liberal; shrinking from taking precedence of others, I can become a

vessel of the highest honour. Now-a-days they give up gentleness and

are all for being bold; economy, and are all for being liberal; the

hindmost place, and seek only to be foremost;–of all which the end

is death.


Gentleness is sure to be victorious even in battle, and firmly to

maintain its ground. Heaven will save its possessor, by his very

gentleness protecting him.


He who in Divine’s wars has skill

Assumes no martial port;

He who fights with most good will

To rage makes no resort.

He who vanquishes yet still

Keeps from his foes apart;

He whose deeds men most fulfil

Yet humbly plies his art.


Thus we say, ‘He never contends,

And therein is his might.’

Thus we say, ‘Men’s wills he bends,

That they with him unite.’

Thus we say, ‘Like Heaven’s his ends,

No priest of old more bright.’


A master of the art of war has said, ‘I do not dare to be the

host to commence the war; I prefer to be the guest to act on the

defensive. I do not dare to advance an inch; I prefer to retire a

foot.’ This is called marshalling the ranks where there are no ranks;

baring the arms to fight where there are no arms to bare; grasping

the weapon where there is no weapon to grasp; advancing against the

enemy where there is no enemy.


There is no calamity greater than lightly engaging in war. To do

that is near losing the gentleness which is so precious. Thus it is

that when opposing weapons are actually crossed, he who deplores

the situation conquers.


My words are very easy to know, and very easy to practise; but

there is no one in the world who is able to know and able to practise



There is an originating and all-comprehending principle in my

words, and an authoritative law for the things which I enforce. It

is because they do not know these, that men do not know me.


They who know me are few, and I am on that account the more to be

prized. It is thus that the priest wears a poor garb of hair cloth,

while he carries his signet of jade in his bosom.


To know and yet think we do not know is the highest

attainment; not to know and yet think we do know is a disease.


It is simply by being pained at the thought of having this

disease that we are preserved from it. The priest has not the disease.

He knows the pain that would be inseparable from it, and therefore he

does not have it.


When the people do not fear what they ought to fear, that which

is their great dread will come on them.


Let them not thoughtlessly indulge themselves in their ordinary

life; let them not act as if weary of what that life depends on.


It is by avoiding such indulgence that such weariness does not



Therefore the priest knows these things of himself, but does not

parade his knowledge; loves, but does not appear to set a value

on, himself. And thus he puts the latter alternative away and makes

choice of the former.


He whose boldness appears in his daring to do wrong, in

defiance of the laws is put to death; he whose boldness appears in

his not daring to do so lives on. Of these two cases the one

appears to be advantageous, and the other to be injurious. But


When Heaven’s anger smites a man,

Who the cause shall truly scan?


On this account the priest feels a difficulty as to what to do in the

former case.


It is the way of Heaven not to strive, and yet it skilfully

overcomes; not to speak, and yet it is skilful in obtaining a reply;

does not call, and yet men come to it of themselves. Its

demonstrations are quiet, and yet its plans are skilful and effective.

The meshes of the net of Heaven are large; far apart, but letting

nothing escape.


The people do not fear death; to what purpose is it to try to

frighten them with death? If the people were always in awe of death,

and I could always seize those who do wrong, and put them to death,

who would dare to do wrong?


There is always One who presides over the infliction death. He who

would inflict death in the room of him who so presides over it may be

described as hewing wood instead of a great carpenter. Seldom is it

that he who undertakes the hewing, instead of the great carpenter,

does not cut his own hands!


The people suffer from famine because of the multitude of taxes

consumed by their superiors. It is through this that they suffer



The people are difficult to govern because of the excessive

agency of their superiors in governing them. It is through this

that they are difficult to govern.


The people make light of dying because of the greatness of their

labors in seeking for the means of living. It is this which makes

them think light of dying. Thus it is that to leave the subject of

living altogether out of view is better than to set a high value on



Man at his birth is supple and weak; at his death, firm and

strong. So it is with all things. Trees and plants, in their early

growth, are soft and brittle; at their death, dry and withered.


Thus it is that firmness and strength are the concomitants of

death; softness and weakness, the concomitants of life.


Hence he who relies on the strength of his forces does not

conquer; and a tree which is strong will fill the out-stretched arms,

and thereby invites the masses.


Therefore the place of what is firm and strong is below, and that

of what is soft and weak is above.


May not the Way of Heaven be compared to the method of bending a bow? The part of the bow which was high is brought low, and what was low is raised up. So Heaven diminishes where there is superabundance, and supplements where there is deficiency.


It is the Way of Heaven to diminish superabundance, and to

supplement deficiency. It is not so with the way of man. He takes

away from those who have not enough to add to his own superabundance.


Who can take his own superabundance and therewith serve all under

heaven? Only he who is in possession of the Divine!


Therefore the ruling priest acts without claiming the results as

his; he achieves his merit and does not rest arrogantly in it:–he

does not wish to display his superiority.


There is nothing in the world more soft and weak than water,

and yet for attacking things that are firm and strong there is nothing

that can take precedence of it;–for there is nothing so effectual

for which it can be changed.


Everyone in the world knows that the soft overcomes the hard, and

the weak the strong, but no one is able to carry it out in practice.


Therefore a priest has said,

‘He who accepts his state’s reproach,

Is hailed therefore its altars’ lord;

To him who bears men’s direful woes

They all the name of King accord.’


Words that are strictly true seem to be paradoxical.


When a reconciliation is effected between two parties after a

great animosity, there is sure to be a grudge remaining in the mind

of the one who was wrong. And how can this be beneficial to the



Therefore to guard against this, the priest keeps the left-hand

portion of the record of the engagement, and does not insist on the

speedy fulfilment of it by the other party. So, he who has the

attributes of the Divine regards only the conditions of the

engagement, while he who has not those attributes regards only the

conditions favourable to himself.


In the Way of Heaven, there is no partiality of love; it is always

on the side of the good man.


In a little state with a small population, I would so order it,

that, though there were individuals with the abilities of ten or a

hundred men, there should be no employment of them; I would make the

people, while looking on death as a grievous thing, yet not remove

elsewhere to avoid it.


Though they had boats and carriages, they should have no occasion

to ride in them; though they had buff coats and sharp weapons, they

should have no occasion to don or use them.


I would make the people return to the use of knotted cords instead

of the written characters.


They should think their coarse food sweet; their plain clothes

beautiful; their poor dwellings places of rest; and their common

simple ways sources of enjoyment.


There should be a neighbouring state within sight, and the voices

of the fowls and dogs should be heard all the way from it to us, but I

would make the people to old age, even to death, not have any

intercourse with it.


Sincere words are not fine; fine words are not sincere. Those

who are skilled in the Divine do not dispute about it; the

disputatious are not skilled in it. Those who know the Divine are not

extensively learned; the extensively learned do not know it.


The priest does not accumulate for himself. The more that he

expends for others, the more does he possess of his own; the more that

he gives to others, the more does he have himself.


With all the sharpness of the Way of Heaven, it injures not; with

all the doing in the way of the priest he does not strive.