Virtue (Te)

(Those who) possessed in highest degree the attributes (of the Tao) 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 had the Tao’s qualities to the highest degree did not try to display those qualities. So they possessed those qualities fully. Those who had the Tao’s qualities to a lesser degree tried not to lose those qualities. So they did not possess those qualities fully.

(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 these qualities to the highest degree did nothing with deliberate purpose and needed to do nothing. Those who possessed these qualities to a lesser degree were always acting and needed to keep doing so.

(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.

The kindest people always sought to act kindly, and had no need to do so. The most righteous people always sought to act rightly, and needed to do so.

(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.

Those with the strongest sense of proper conduct were always trying to display it. And when others did not respond, they rolled up their sleeves and marched up to them.

Thus it was that when the Tao was lost, its attributes appeared; when its attributes were lost, benevolence appeared; when benevolence was lost, righteousness appeared; and when righteousness was lost, the proprieties appeared.

So when the Tao was lost, its qualities appeared. When those qualities were lost, kindness appeared. When kindness was lost, righteousness appeared. And when righteousness was lost, rules of proper behavior 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 Tao, and is the beginning of stupidity.

Now, formal courtesy is a weakened form of loyalty and good faith. It also marks the beginning of disorder. Quick understanding is only a flower of the Tao. It also marks 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.

So the great man holds to what is solid and avoids what is flimsy. He lives with the fruit, not the flower. In this way, he rejects the flimsy flower and chooses the solid fruit.

The things which from of old have got the One (the Tao) are—

The things that have held the One (the Tao) since ancient times are:

All these are the results of the One (Tao).

All these come from the One (Tao).

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.

So dignity is firmly rooted in the humble state that came before it. What is high stands firmly because of the low ground from which it rises. That is why princes and kings call themselves 'Orphans,' 'Men of little virtue,' and 'Carriages without a hub.' By calling themselves lowly, are they not acknowledging that humility is the foundation of their dignity? So listing the separate parts of a carriage does not reveal what makes the carriage serve its purpose. These rulers do not wish to look elegant like jade, but prefer to look rough like an ordinary stone.

All things under heaven sprang from It as existing (and named); that existence sprang from It as non-existent (and not named).

All things under heaven came from it in its existing (and named) form. That existence came from it in its non-existent (and unnamed) form.

Scholars of the highest class, when they hear about the Tao, 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 (thus) laughed at, it would not be fit to be the Tao.

When the best scholars hear about the Tao, they earnestly put it into practice. When average scholars hear about the Tao, they seem to follow it at times and lose it at others. When the poorest scholars hear about the Tao, they laugh loudly at it. If the Tao were not laughed at this way, it would not deserve to be called the Tao.

Therefore the sentence-makers have thus expressed themselves:—

So those who compose sayings have put it this way:

The Tao is hidden, and has no name; but it is the Tao which is skilful at imparting (to all things what they need) and making them complete.

The Tao is hidden and has no name. But the Tao skillfully gives all things what they need and makes them complete.

The Tao 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.

The Tao produced One. One produced Two. Two produced Three. Three produced all things. All things leave behind the Obscurity from which they came and move forward to embrace the Brightness into which they emerged. At the same time, the Breath of Vacancy brings all things into harmony.

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 increased.

People dislike being orphans, having little virtue, or being like carriages without wheel hubs. Yet kings and princes use these descriptions for themselves. So some things grow by being reduced, while others shrink by being increased.

What other men (thus) teach, I also teach. The violent and strong do not die their natural death. I will make this the basis of my teaching.

I teach what others teach. The violent and strong do not die a natural death. I will make this truth the foundation of my teaching.

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).

The softest thing in the world strikes against and overcomes the hardest. What has no (solid) substance enters where there are no gaps. From this, I know the value of 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.

Few people in the world grasp the teaching without words and gain the benefits of non-action.

Constant action overcomes cold; being still overcomes heat. Purity and stillness give the correct law to all under heaven.

Constant movement overcomes cold. Stillness overcomes heat. Purity and stillness set the right standard for everyone under heaven.

When the Tao prevails in the world, they send back their swift horses to (draw) the dung-carts. When the Tao is disregarded in the world, the war-horses breed in the border lands.

When the Tao prevails in the world, swift horses are sent back to pull manure carts. When the Tao is ignored in the world, warhorses breed in the borderlands.

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.

There is no greater wrong than encouraging ambition. There is no greater disaster than being unhappy with your lot in life. There is no greater fault than wanting to acquire more. Therefore, the sense of having enough that comes from contentment lasts forever and never changes.

Without going outside his door, one understands (all that takes place) under the sky; without looking out from his window, one sees the Tao of Heaven. The farther that one goes out (from himself), the less he knows.

Without stepping outside your door, you can understand all that happens under the sky. Without looking out your window, you can see the Tao of Heaven. The farther you go from yourself, the less you know.

Therefore the sages got their knowledge without travelling; gave their (right) names to things without seeing them; and accomplished their ends without any purpose of doing so.

So the sages gained knowledge without traveling. They gave things their (correct) names without seeing them. And they achieved their goals without intending to do so.

He who devotes himself to learning (seeks) from day to day to increase (his knowledge); he who devotes himself to the Tao (seeks) from day to day to diminish (his doing).

Someone devoted to learning seeks to know more each day. Someone devoted to the Tao seeks to do less each day.

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 reduces it again and again until he does nothing (on purpose). Once he reaches this state of non-action, there is nothing 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.

Whoever gains all under heaven does so without striving for that goal. If someone strives for that goal, they are not capable of gaining all under heaven.

The sage has no invariable mind of his own; he makes the mind of the people his mind.

The sage has no fixed mind of his own. He takes the people's mind as his own.

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 sincere.

I am good to those who are good to me. I am also good to those who are not good to me. In this way, all become good. I am sincere with those who are sincere with me. I am also sincere with those who are not sincere with me. In this way, all become sincere.

The sage 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 children.

The sage seems indecisive in the world and keeps his mind impartial toward everyone. All the people watch and listen to him, and he treats them all as his children.

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

People come out and live. They go back in and die.

Of every ten three are ministers of life (to themselves); and three are ministers of death.

Out of every ten people, three sustain life (their own), and three serve 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.

There are also three in every ten who aim to live. But their actions tend toward the land (or place) of death. Why? Because they try too hard to prolong 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.

But I have heard this about someone skilled at caring for the life entrusted to him for a time. He travels on land without needing to avoid rhinoceroses or tigers. He enters an army without needing to avoid leather armor or sharp weapons. The rhinoceros finds no place in him to thrust its horn. Nor does the tiger find a place to sink its claws, or the weapon a place for its point. And why is that? Because there is no place in him for death.

All things are produced by the Tao, 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 honour the Tao, and exalt its outflowing operation.

All things are created by the Tao and nourished by its flowing power. Each thing takes shape according to its own nature and becomes complete according to its circumstances. Therefore, all things without exception honor the Tao and praise its flowing power.

This honouring of the Tao and exalting of its operation is not the result of any ordination, but always a spontaneous tribute.

Honoring the Tao and praising how it works are not commanded. Instead, this respect is always freely given.

Thus it is that the Tao produces (all things), nourishes them, brings them to their full growth, nurses them, completes them, matures them, maintains them, and overspreads them.

So the Tao creates all things and nourishes them. It brings them to full growth, cares for them, completes them, and brings them to maturity. The Tao sustains them and spreads over 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.

It produces them but does not claim to own them. It guides their development but does not boast of its ability to do so. It brings them to maturity but does not control them. This is called its mysterious way of working.

(The Tao) which originated all under the sky is to be considered as the mother of them all.

(The Tao) gave rise to everything under the sky. It should be seen as the mother of all things.

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.

When we find the mother, we know what her children should be. When someone recognizes himself as his mother's child and protects her qualities within himself, he will be free from all danger for the rest of his life.

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.

Let him keep his mouth closed and his nostrils shut. Then he will be free from exhausting effort all his life. Let him keep his mouth open and spend his breath advancing his affairs. Then he will never be safe for as long as he lives.

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.

Noticing what is small is the secret of seeing clearly. Protecting what is soft and tender is the secret of strength.

If I were suddenly to become known, and (put into a position to) conduct (a government) according to the Great Tao, what I should be most afraid of would be a boastful display.

If I suddenly became known and were appointed to govern according to the Great Tao, my greatest fear would be showing off.

The great Tao (or way) is very level and easy; but people love the by-ways.

The great Tao (or way) is very smooth and easy to follow. But people love the side paths.

Their court(-yards 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 Tao surely!

Their courtyards and buildings will be well maintained, but their fields will be poorly farmed and their granaries very empty. They will wear fine, decorated robes and carry sharp swords at their waists. They will indulge in food and drink and have far more property and wealth than they need. Such princes may be called robbers and braggarts. This way of life is surely contrary to the Tao!

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.

In this way, observing different cases will reveal the effect in the individual, the family, and the neighborhood. The effect will also be seen in the state and the kingdom.

How do I know that this effect is sure to hold thus all under the sky? By this (method of observation).

How do I know this effect is sure to hold true throughout the world? Through this (method of observation).

He who has in himself abundantly the attributes (of the Tao) is like an infant. Poisonous insects will not sting him; fierce beasts will not seize him; birds of prey will not strike him.

A man who is full of the qualities of the Tao 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).

An infant's bones are weak and its tendons soft, but its grip is firm. The infant knows nothing yet of the union of male and female, yet its penis may become erect. This shows the perfection of the infant's physical essence. The infant can cry all day without becoming hoarse, showing the harmony within its body.

When things have become strong, they (then) become old, which may be said to be contrary to the Tao. Whatever is contrary to the Tao soon ends.

Once things become strong, they grow old. This aging may be said to go against the Tao. Whatever goes against the Tao soon ends.

He who knows (the Tao) does not (care to) speak (about it); he who is (ever ready to) speak about it does not know it.

Those who know the Tao do not care to speak about it. Those always ready to speak about the Tao do 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.'

He who knows it will keep his mouth shut and close his nostrils. He will blunt his sharp edges and untangle the complexities of things. He will soften his brightness and bring himself into harmony with the obscurity of others. This harmony is called 'the Mysterious Agreement.'

(Such an 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.

(Such a person) cannot be treated with familiarity or distance. He is beyond all considerations of gain or harm, high or low status. 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.

A state may be governed through corrective measures. Weapons of war may be used with cunning and skill. But you can make the kingdom your own only by being free of 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.

How do I know this is so? From these facts: The more restrictive laws a kingdom has, the poorer its people become. The more tools people have to increase their profits, the greater the disorder in the state and clan. The more skill people have in clever tricks, the more strange devices appear. The more laws are put on display, the more thieves and robbers there are.

Therefore a sage 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.'

So a sage has said, 'I will not act with a purpose, and the people will transform themselves. I will value stillness, and the people will become upright on their own. I will not interfere, and the people will become wealthy on their own. I will show no ambition, and the people will return to their original simplicity on their own.'

Misery!—happiness is to be found by its side! Happiness!—misery lurks beneath it! Who knows what either will come to in the end?

Misery! Happiness can be found beside it! Happiness! Misery lurks beneath it! Who knows how either will 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.

Should we then do away with correction? Correction will in turn become distortion, and the good in correction will in turn become evil. People have indeed been mistaken about this for a long time.

Therefore the sage 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.

So the sage is like a square whose corners cut no one. He is like a corner whose sharpness injures no one. He is straightforward, but does not overstep his bounds. 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 moderation.

For guiding our human nature and properly serving heaven, nothing is better than moderation.

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 Tao). 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.

Only through this moderation can people return early (to their normal state). I call this early return the repeated building up of the qualities (of the Tao). As these qualities build up, every obstacle to that return is overcome. We do not know the limits of this power to overcome obstacles. When a person does not know those limits, he may become 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.

Someone who possesses the mother of the state may endure for a long time. Such a person is like a plant whose roots are deep and whose flower stalks are firm. This is the way to ensure a long, lasting life.

Governing a great state is like cooking small fish.

Governing a large country is like cooking small fish.

Let the kingdom be governed according to the Tao, and the manes of the departed will not manifest their spiritual energy. It is not that those manes 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 sage hurt them.

Let the kingdom be governed according to the Tao, and the spirits of the dead will not display their power. Not because the spirits lack spiritual power, but because they will not use that power to harm people. Not because their power could not harm people, but because the ruling sage does not harm people either.

When these two do not injuriously affect each other, their good influences converge in the virtue (of the Tao).

When these two do not harm each other, their positive influences come together in the virtue (of the Tao).

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.

A great state is great because it is like a stream flowing down through low ground. So the great state becomes the center that draws 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.

Take all females as an example: the female always overcomes the male through her stillness. Stillness may be seen as a way of lowering oneself.

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.

So a great state wins over small states by humbling itself before them. And small states win over a great state by humbling themselves before it. In the first case, humility gains followers. In the second, humility wins favor.

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 itself.

The large state only wants to bring people together and care for them. A small state only wants the larger state to welcome it and let it serve. Each state gets what it wants, but the large state must learn to humble itself.

(Its) admirable words can purchase honour; (its) admirable deeds can raise their performer above others. Even men who are not good are not abandoned by it.

(Its) admirable words can earn honor. (Its) admirable deeds can raise those who perform them above others. It does not abandon even people who are not good.

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 court-yard), such an offering would not be equal to (a lesson of) this Tao, which one might present on his knees.

Therefore, when the ruler takes his place as the Son of Heaven and appoints his three ducal ministers, a prince might offer a round symbol of rank large enough to fill both hands. The prince might send the symbol ahead of a team of horses in the courtyard. Yet even this offering would not equal a lesson in this Tao, presented on one's knees.

Why was it that the ancients prized this Tao 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.

Why did the ancients value this Tao so highly? Wasn't it because those who sought the Tao could find it, and the guilty could escape the stain of their guilt through it? That is why everyone under heaven considers the Tao the most valuable thing.

(It is the way of the Tao) to act without (thinking of) acting; to conduct affairs without (feeling the) trouble of them; to taste without discerning any flavour; to consider what is small as great, and a few as many; and to recompense injury with kindness.

The way of the Tao is to act without thinking of acting. Handle affairs without feeling burdened by them. Taste without noticing any flavor. Treat the small as great and the few as many. And repay harm with kindness.

(The master of it) 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 sage, while he never does what is great, is able on that account to accomplish the greatest things.

(The master of it) prepares for difficult things while they are still easy. He handles things that will become great while they are still small. All difficult things in the world begin as easy things, and all great things begin as small things. So the sage never takes on anything great, and for that very reason he can accomplish the greatest things.

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 sage sees difficulty even in what seems easy, and so never has any difficulties.

Anyone who makes promises lightly is sure to keep few of them. Anyone who always thinks things are easy is sure to find them difficult. So the sage sees difficulty even in what seems easy, and therefore 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 begun.

What is at rest is easy to hold steady. Before something shows signs of its presence, it is easy to take steps against it. What is brittle is easy to break. What is very small is easy to scatter. Action should be taken before something appears. Order should be established before disorder begins.

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.

A tree big enough to fill your arms grew from the tiniest sprout. A nine-story tower rose from a small heap of earth. A journey of a thousand li began 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 sage does not act (so), and therefore does no harm; he does not lay hold (so), and therefore does not lose his hold. (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.

Anyone who acts with an ulterior purpose does harm. Anyone who takes hold of something with an ulterior purpose loses their hold. The sage does not act this way, so he does no harm. He does not take hold this way, so he does not lose his hold. But people constantly ruin their affairs just as they are about to succeed. If people were as careful at the end as they should be at the beginning, they would avoid such ruin.

Therefore the sage 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).

So the sage desires what others do not desire. He does not value things that are hard to get. He learns what others do not learn and returns to what most people have passed by. In this way, he helps all things develop naturally and does not dare act with a hidden purpose of his own.

The ancients who showed their skill in practising the Tao did so, not to enlighten the people, but rather to make them simple and ignorant.

The ancient masters of the Tao did not aim to enlighten the people. Instead, they aimed to keep the people simple and ignorant.

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.

People are difficult to govern because they have so much knowledge. A ruler who tries to govern a state through his own wisdom brings harm to the state. But a ruler who does not try to govern that way is a blessing to the state.

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.

Anyone who understands these two things also finds in them a model and a guide. Understanding this model and guide is what we call the mysterious excellence (of a ruler). Such mysterious excellence is deep and far-reaching. It sets the ruler apart from others, yet leads them to become closely aligned with 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 sage (ruler), wishing to be above men, puts himself by his words below them, and, wishing to be before them, places his person behind them.

Rivers and seas receive the homage and tribute of all valley streams because they lie lower than the streams. This low position makes rivers and seas the kings of all the streams. In the same way, the sage (ruler), wishing to stand above others, speaks humbly, placing himself below them. And wishing to lead others, he places himself 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.

In this way, though he stands above the people, they do not feel burdened by him. And though he stands before them, they do not feel harmed by his position.

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.

So everyone in the world gladly honors him and never grows tired of him. Because he does not compete, no one can compete with him.

All the world says that, while my Tao 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!

All the world says that although my Tao is great, it seems inferior to other teachings. Yet my Tao seems inferior precisely because of its greatness. If my Tao were like any other teaching, its smallness would have been known long ago!

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.

But I have three precious things I value and hold on to. The first is gentleness. The second is thrift. The third is reluctance to put myself ahead 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.

With gentleness, I can be bold. With thrift, I can be generous. By refusing to put myself ahead of others, I can become a vessel held in the highest honor. Today they abandon gentleness and care only about being bold. They abandon thrift and care only about being generous. They abandon the last place and seek only to be first. (All these paths end in 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.

Gentleness is sure to win, even in battle, and to hold its ground firmly. Heaven will save the gentle person, using his very gentleness to protect him.

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.

A master of warfare has said, 'I do not dare to be the host (to start the war). I prefer to be the guest (to defend myself). I do not dare to advance an inch. I prefer to retreat a foot.' This approach is called lining up troops where there are no troops. It is baring your arms for battle where there are no arms to bare. It is taking hold of a weapon where there is no weapon to hold. It is 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.

There is no greater disaster than going to war lightly. Doing so brings us close to losing our precious gentleness. So when opposing sides actually cross weapons, the one who grieves over the conflict wins.

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 them.

My words are very easy to understand and very easy to put into practice. But no one in the world can understand them and put them into practice.

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.

Behind my words is a principle that is their source and encompasses everything. An authoritative law governs the things I enforce. Because people do not understand this principle and this law, they do not understand me.

They who know me are few, and I am on that account (the more) to be prized. It is thus that the sage wears (a poor garb of) hair cloth, while he carries his (signet of) jade in his bosom.

Few people understand me, and that makes me all the more worthy of being valued. So the sage wears coarse haircloth but carries his jade seal close to his chest.

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.

To know, yet think you do not know, is the highest achievement. To not know, yet think you 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 sage has not the disease. He knows the pain that would be inseparable from it, and therefore he does not have it.

We are kept free of this disease simply by feeling pain at the thought of having it. The sage does not have the disease. He knows the pain that would inevitably come with the disease, so 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.

When people do not fear what they should fear, what they dread most will happen to them.

Let them not thoughtlessly indulge themselves in their ordinary life; let them not act as if weary of what that life depends on.

Let them not indulge themselves thoughtlessly in everyday life. Let them not act as if tired of what sustains that life.

It is by avoiding such indulgence that such weariness does not arise.

Avoiding such indulgence prevents such weariness.

Therefore the sage 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.

So the sage knows these things by himself but does not show off his knowledge. He loves himself but does not appear to value himself highly. So he rejects showing off and self-importance, and chooses knowing and loving.

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

Someone whose courage takes the form of daring to do wrong and defy the law is put to death. Someone whose courage takes the form of not daring to do so lives on. Of these two choices, one seems beneficial and the other harmful. But

On this account the sage feels a difficulty (as to what to do in the former case).

For this reason, the sage finds it hard to decide what to do in the earlier 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 way of Heaven is not to struggle, yet it overcomes with skill. Heaven does not speak, yet it skillfully draws a reply. Heaven does not call, yet people come to it on their own. Heaven reveals itself quietly, yet its plans are skillful and effective. Heaven’s net has wide openings, far apart, yet nothing escapes.

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?

The people do not fear death. What is the point of trying to frighten them with death? If the people always feared death, and I could always catch and execute wrongdoers, who would dare do wrong?

There is always One who presides over the infliction of 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!

There is always One who oversees the putting of people to death. Anyone who takes his place may be compared to someone chopping wood in a master carpenter’s place. Those who chop wood in the master carpenter’s place rarely avoid cutting their own hands!

The people suffer from famine because of the multitude of taxes consumed by their superiors. It is through this that they suffer famine.

The people suffer famine because their rulers take too much in taxes for their own use. These taxes are why the people go hungry.

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 are hard to govern because their rulers interfere too much. This excessive interference makes the people hard to govern.

The people make light of dying because of the greatness of their labours 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 it.

People care little about dying because they work so hard to earn a living. This hard work is what makes them care little about dying. So it is better to give no thought to living than to value it highly.

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.

At birth, people are flexible and weak. At death, they are stiff and strong. (The same is true of all things.) Trees and plants are soft and brittle when they first grow. At death, they are dry and withered.

Thus it is that firmness and strength are the concomitants of death; softness and weakness, the concomitants of life.

So firmness and strength go hand in hand with death. Softness and weakness go hand in hand with 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 feller.)

So whoever relies on the strength of his army does not conquer. And a strong tree grows wide enough to fill outstretched arms (and so invites someone to cut it down).

Therefore the place of what is firm and strong is below, and that of what is soft and weak is above.

So what is firm and strong belongs below, and what is soft and weak belongs above.

May not the Way (or Tao) 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.

Isn’t the Way (or Tao) of Heaven like bending a bow? The high part of the bow is lowered, and the low part is raised. So Heaven takes away where there is too much and adds where there is too little.

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.

The Way of Heaven is to reduce what is excessive and make up for what is lacking. But humans act differently. They take from those who do not have enough to add to their own excess.

Who can take his own superabundance and therewith serve all under heaven? Only he who is in possession of the Tao!

Who can use his own surplus to serve everyone under heaven? Only someone who has the Tao!

Therefore the (ruling) sage 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.

So the wise ruler acts without claiming the results as his own. He succeeds but does not take arrogant pride in his success. He does not want to show 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.

Nothing in the world is softer or weaker than water. Yet nothing is better at attacking what is firm and strong, because nothing equally effective can replace water.

Every one 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.

Everyone knows that the soft overcomes the hard, and the weak overcomes the strong. But no one can put this knowledge into practice.

Words that are strictly true seem to be paradoxical.

Words that are completely true seem to contradict themselves.

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 other)?

When two parties reconcile after bitter hostility, the one at fault is sure to still hold a grudge. And how can that lingering grudge benefit the other party?

Therefore (to guard against this), the sage 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 Tao) regards (only) the conditions of the engagement, while he who has not those attributes regards only the conditions favourable to himself.

So, to guard against this, the sage keeps the left-hand portion of the written agreement. The sage does not demand that the other party fulfill the agreement quickly. Thus, someone with the qualities of the Tao considers only the terms of the agreement. Someone without those qualities, however, considers only the terms that favor themselves.

In the Way of Heaven, there is no partiality of love; it is always on the side of the good man.

The Way of Heaven shows no favoritism in its love. It is always on the side of the good person.

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).

In a small state with a small population, I would arrange things as follows. Even if some people had the abilities of ten or a hundred men, I would not put them to work. I would have the people see death as a terrible thing, yet not move elsewhere (to avoid death).

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.

Though they had boats and carriages, they should have no need to ride in them. Though they had leather armor and sharp weapons, they should have no need to wear the armor or use the weapons.

I would make the people return to the use of knotted cords (instead of the written characters).

I would make the people go back to using knotted cords (instead of 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.

They should find their coarse food sweet and their plain clothes beautiful. They should find rest in their poor homes and enjoyment in their simple, everyday ways.

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.

A neighboring state should be within sight, and we should hear its chickens and dogs all the way here. But I would have the people grow old and die without ever having contact with that state.

Sincere words are not fine; fine words are not sincere. Those who are skilled (in the Tao) do not dispute (about it); the disputatious are not skilled in it. Those who know (the Tao) are not extensively learned; the extensively learned do not know it.

Sincere words are not elegant. Elegant words are not sincere. Those skilled in the Tao do not argue about it. Those who argue about the Tao are not skilled in it. Those who know the Tao do not have vast learning. Those with vast learning do not know the Tao.

The sage 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.

The sage does not store things up (for himself). The more he spends on others, the more he has for himself. The more he gives to others, the more he has himself.

With all the sharpness of the Way of Heaven, it injures not; with all the doing in the way of the sage he does not strive.

For all its sharpness, the Way of Heaven does no harm. For all the sage does, he does not strive.