PREFACE
A number of problems arise when translating any work from a written
language,
such as early Chinese, into twentieth century English. One such
problem is the
difference between the written forms of the two languages, another
is the
difference between the two cultures, and a third is the time which
elapsed
between the writing of the original work, in this instance, some
time between
six hundred and three hundred years before the Christian era, and
the
compilation of the textual arrangement by Wang Bih, dating from the
third
century A.D., used today.
There are however, other problems for any translator/interpreter of
this work.
The first is the number of changes in the form of written Chinese
characters
since the original work was written. At least one such change
occurred prior
to the arrangement of the text by Wang Bih, and at least another
three have been
implemented since his time.
The source of another problem has been described by Dr. L. Wieger
(please see
bibliography/reference section below) as, ".... the ignorance of
scribes who
continually brought to light faulty forms which were ....
reproduced by
posterity ....".
Another problem related to those mentioned immediately above is the
change in
writing instruments used by Chinese scribes. With the invention of
the paint
brush, the efficient 'fibre tipped pen' (made from vegetable fibre
soaked in
ink, and held in a hollow bamboo tube) fell into disuse. The
resultant change
in writing style was due to the fact that the writer had less
control over the
stroke of a brush than of an instrument with a fine, firm tip.
Despite this
handicap, the brush could be used to paint on silk, and was
considered to
produce a more 'artistic' form of calligraphy than the earlier
instrument.
Furthermore, it became almost a 'hallmark of a gentleman' to write
in a free,
flowing and virtually illegible style. There can be no doubt that
this was the
cause of many errors which were made and subsequently compounded.
A further problem is the possibility of confusion, caused in part
by the
multiple meanings of some of the limited number of characters said
to have been
used in the original text, this being attributed to the cryptic
style of Lao
Tzu. It is also in part a result of the nature of early Chinese
grammatical
structure itself. Even if a literal translation were desirable, it
would make
little sense to the reader schooled only in Western grammar, who
would therefore
be unfairly presented with the problem of 'guessing the missing
words', which,
it may be said, is a primary function of the translator of any work
such as
this.
Having discussed the problems which exist for the translator of
such a work as
the Tao Te Ching, it is only reasonable to mention briefly the
problem which
exists for the reader, concerning the significance of various
influences upon a
translator.
There are already at least forty-two English translations of this
work (listed
by Clark Melling of the University of New Mexico), each, I am sure,
carried out
as ably and honestly as was possible. However, it is difficult, if
not
impossible, for any person not to be influenced by the philosophy,
beliefs,
culture and politics of their own society, historical period and
education
system.
Even a brief glance at various translations of the work of Lao Tzu
will
illustrate how such a 'hidden curriculum' surreptitiously imposes
itself upon
even the most honest of men, thus creating a major problem for the
reader. This
is the case even for the reader who merely hopes to see an accurate
English
rendering of the work, but the reader's problems are compounded if
he or she
seeks a translation which presents a reasonably accurate
description of Taoism
(Tao Chia), the 'system' of which the Tao Te Ching is a major work.
It must be
said of the existing English translations, that most treat the Tao
Te Ching as a
literary or poetic work, whilst many others treat it as a work of
mysticism,
rather than a work of classical scholarship, which I believe it to
be,
describing the key concepts of Taoist philosophy (tao chia)
expressed in a
poetic manner. My intention here has been to provide a translation
suitable for
those readers wishing to discover something of that philosophy, as
described in
one of its major works.
On the matter of 'translation', I should state that I consider the
term to be a
misnomer when applied to an English rendering of this classical
Chinese work.
For the reasons mentioned above, I believe that any such work is at
least as
much, and probably more a matter of interpretation than of literal
translation.
This problem is admirably expressed by Arthur Hummel, former Head
of the
Division of Orientalia at the Library of Congress when he writes in
his foreword
to Dr. C.H. Wu's translation (referenced), "Any translation is an
interpretation
.... for the language of one tradition does not provide exact
verbal equivalents
for all the creative ideas of another tradition."
Whilst I have tried to ensure the accuracy of my own sources, this
does not of
course guarantee the accuracy of the result. Furthermore, since I
have not
attempted to be literally accurate in my interpretation, and
because this
rendering is not intended to compete with such translations, I have
listed below
some titles, including ten translations of the Tao Te Ching, which
have been of
value in this undertaking. They are listed in order to acknowledge
the work of
the translators, as well as to provide alternative sources for
those readers
wishing to conduct their own research and comparisons. The other
titles are
those of books on the Chinese language, and these are listed for
the benefit of
those readers wishing to undertake their own translations.
Up to Index
BIBLIOGRAPHY AND REFERENCES
'Tao Te Ching', translated by Gia-Fu Feng and Jane English, is
published by
Wildwood House. It concerns itself with the 'spiritual level of
being', and
contains Chinese characters written in a cursive form which
although not always
easy to read, are certainly aesthetically pleasing. However, the
photographs
which illustrate this edition are also pleasing to the eye, and it
is as much
for the illustrations as for the translation that this edition is
recommended.
'Lao Tzu Tao Te Ching' is translated by D.C. Lau, and published by
Penguin Books
in their 'Penguin Classics' series. It is currently in its
seventeenth
printing, the first edition dating from nineteen sixty-three.
Although this
translation is written in a style which I find rather too literal
for my own
taste, it carries a very lucid introduction, as well as footnotes,
a glossary
and a reference section, all of which recommend it to the reader
who wishes to
check reference sources.
'Truth and Nature', by Cheng Lin, published in Hong Kong, does not
claim to be a
translation, but interprets the Tao Te Ching in a very interesting
manner. Two
arrangements of the Chinese text are included, one according to the
arrangement
of Wang Bih. The reader wishing to use the original language as a
source will
find the Chinese text in this edition of value. It must be
emphasized however,
that there are a number of Chinese texts available. Whilst these
usually
conform to Wang Bih's arrangment of the text, they do vary in
detail.
'The Simple Way of Lao Tsze' (sic) is a very pleasant analysis of
the Tao Te
Ching first published by 'The Shrine of Wisdom' in London some
sixty years ago.
It contains many footnotes, and is an interpretation rather than a
direct
translation, attempting to describe the 'spirit' of Taoism, and
doing so without
pretence. However, some readers may find the nomenclature somewhat
esoteric
(although it is only reasonable to expect that the same criticism
might be
levelled at my own interpretation).
'Lao-Tzu: "My Words are very easy to understand" ' by Man-jan
Cheng, translated
by Tam C.Gibbs, and published by North Atlantic Books, is a
Confucionist (rather
than Taoist) rendering. It therefore contains material of value to
the student
who wishes to 'see both sides of the coin'. This edition consists
of a series of
lectures by Man-jan Cheng, and includes the Chinese texts of both
the Tao Te
Ching and the lectures. The printing of the Chinese characters is
large and
clearly printed, which commends it to the student requiring a text
in the
'original' language, although it must be emphasized that there are
a number of
differences between the Chinese text in this edition and that of
Dr. Wu,
mentioned immediately below.
The translation by Dr. J.C.H. Wu is in its eighteenth printing, a
fact which
will not surprise any reader of this delightful little edition.
Small in size,
and containing an excellently drafted Chinese text, this
translation is likely
to appeal to the reader who is of the Catholic faith.
'The Way and Its Power' is the title of the translation by Arthur
Waley,
published as 'A Mandala Book' by Unwin Paperbacks. As the
translator himself
says, it "represents a compromise...", but even so it is possibly
the most
widely read translation in the U.K. It is for this reason that it
is included
it as a reference work worthy of reading. The use of the word
'power' in the
title of this translation provides a clue to the style of the
translator, who
employs very strong academic (but non-Taoist) arguments, which are
made in his
copious introduction.
The translation entitled 'Tao Te Ching by Lao Tzu', translated by
A.J. Bahm, and
published by Frederick Ungar is well supported by notes in an
'afterword'. The
translation itself is written in a very pleasant and easy-to-read
style, which
is (unfortunately) unusual for the work of a professor of
philosophy.
'Tao: A New Way of Thinking' by Chang Chung-yuan, published by
Harper and Row,
is a translation which contains excellent commentaries and
footnotes. The
translator undoubtedly has expert historical and philosophical
knowledge which
he puts to good use in this excellent edition, in which he compares
various
aspects of Taoist philosophy with that of European philosophers.
The tenth translation used for my own researches is 'The Tao Te
Ching of Lao
Tzu' translated by James Legge as one of a two volume set of 'The
Texts of
Taoism', published by Dover Publications. Although written in
eighteen-ninety,
this translation withstands the test of time extremely well. The
translator was
very knowledegable in his subject, as well as of Chinese
philosophy, literature
and religions, and does not hesitate to state his opinions, arguing
a strong
case where these differ from those of other translators from the
Chinese.
Because of the changes in calligraphic style mentioned earlier, any
student
wishing to conduct their own research into the Chinese text of the
Tao Te Ching
will need to be at least familiar with the relationship between
modern and
classical Chinese characters.
An outstanding book covering the 'middle period' is the 'Ch'ien Tzu
Wen'
(Thousand Character Classic) of Chou Hsing-szu, written some time
between 507
and 521 A.D., an excellent English language edition being that
edited by F. W.
Paar, with calligraphy by Fong-Chih Lui, and published by Frederick
Ungar in
1963. This edition also carries translations in French, German and
Latin.
Although it is not a rendering of the Tao Te Ching, it contains
many passages
from that work.
'Chinese Characters' by L. Wieger, translated from the French by L.
Davrout
(mentioned previously) is a lexicon with etymological lessons, but
also contains
both a phonetic dictionary and a dictionary of characters arranged
by 'radicals'
(the means by which it is possible to 'find' a character written in
'Kanji', the
root form of both Chinese and Japanese writing in a dictionary).
This book also
contains a number of examples of 'early period' characters which
will be of
value to those readers interested in the calligraphy and other
graphic
communication.
In similar vein, 'Analysis of Chinese Characters', by G.D. Wilder
and J.H.
Ingram, published by Dover Publications, complements the work of
Wieger, listing
one thousand and two characters, together with derivations and
modern
alternatives.
Chang Hsuan's work on 'The Etymologies of 3000 Chinese Characters
in Common
Usage', published by Hong Kong University Press, also shows the
derivations of
many Chinese characters, from the 'small seal' script.
Unfortunately however,
this book contains virtually no English and is therefore intended
primarily for
the student who is already proficient in the Chinese language.
The earliest form of Chinese writing predates even the Tao Te
Ching, and
possibly originates from the same period as the original I Ching of
Fu Hsi.
This writing consists of characters inscribed on bone, shell and
antler horn,
the collection being known as 'The Couling-Chalfant Collection of
Inscribed
Oracle Bones'. The collection has long been dissipated, some
pieces being in
the Royal Scottish Museum (Edinburgh), some in the Carnegie Museum
(Pittsburg),
other pieces in the British Museum (London), and the remainder in
the Field
Museum of Natural History (Chicago). Fortunately though, an
excellent catalogue
exists, drawn by F.H. Chalfant, edited by R.S. Britton, and
published by the
Commercial Press, Shanghai, in 1935. This book illustrates each of
the pieces,
showing the characters inscribed on the original material. It is
a particularly
valuable work for those interested in tracing the origins of many
of the Chinese
characters in use to this day. Translations are not provided.
The philosopher Chuang Tzu, a follower of Lao Tzu, did much to
clarify the
somewhat criptic style of his teacher. The book 'Chuang Tzu'
translated by H.A.
Giles, published by Unwin Paperbacks, renders the sayings of the
later master
into English in a clear and fine literary style. This book, said
to have been
originally written by Chuang Tzu himself sometime between the
fourth and third
centuries before the Christian era, contains a number of references
to the Tao
Te Ching. For this reason it is a valuable book, but its value is
increased by
the humour and depth inherent in Chuang Tzu's writing.
It may be of interest to some readers that the dictionaries I have
used are Lin
Yutang's 'Chinese English Dictionary of Modern Usage', published by
the Chinese
University of Hong Kong, and Andrew Nelson's 'The Modern Reader's
Japanese-English Character Dictionary', published by Charles E.
Tuttle.
Since it may seem strange that I have used a Japanese dictionary to
translate a
Chinese work, it is perhaps worth mentioning that many Japanese
characters are
Chinese in origin, and that the characters in Andrew Nelson's
dictionary are
listed in a sequence, and according to a system different from the
same
characters in the dictionary by Lin Yutang. Although the spoken
Chinese and
Japanese languages differ considerably, the written Japanese
language has its
roots in the Chinese. I therefore use the Japanese dictionary as
a
'cross-reference' for finding the meaning of characters which I
have difficulty
in locating by Lin- Yutang's arrangement.
Up to Index
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
The fact that I have not listed more of the forty-two English
translations of
the Tao Te Ching is not meant to reflect in any way on their
quality, but simply
means that I have not used them on this occasion; all of them, of
course, have
something of value to offer.
Since I have acknowledged the work of other translators and
interpreters, it
would be remiss of me not to acknowledge the help I received from
my own
teachers, each of whom attempted to aid my understanding and
development in his
own unique manner. The reason why I refrain from mentioning them
by name in
print is not due to disrespect, but rather out of respect for the
Taoist belief
that,
"To boast of one's teachers
is to try to give credence
to one's own words."
Fortunately it is not considered boastful to mention in print,
one's own
students. It is therefore with pleasure and gratitude that I
acknowledge the
help I have received from those who consider me their teacher, and
through whose
questions I have gained so much. On this occassion my special
thanks go to Ian
(and his wife, Jeanette) for their company, the help they provided
without being
asked, and for their patience; to Michael, who did most of the
proof-reading; to
Jackie who transcribed my notes to the 'word processor' (which does
not know
that its 'sixty-four bit binary system' is an outcome of Taoist
'yin-yang'
philosophy) and who tried to ensure that what I had written made
sense; and to
Judith, particularly for providing me with a copy of her B.A.
dissertation 'A
Comparison of Plotinus and Chuang Tzu', which was of great help in
explaining
some of the more obscure phrases in other translated texts.
Finally, I take this opportunity (on behalf of Judith and all other
members of
the English speaking Zen Taoist community) to thank Professor
Cavendish, former
Professor of Philosophy at Saint David's University College,
Lampeter, who
personally supervised her dissertation, which is of value to us
all.
Up to Index
INTRODUCTION: THE TAO TE CHING, LAO TZU, TAOISM AND
ZEN
There is frequently some confusion between three practices, each of
which is
generically termed 'Taoism'. Since this confusion exists, it is
important that
the prospective student of Taoism can distinguish between them.
The three
activities, or practices of Taoism are Philosohical or speculative
Taoism,
Religious or esoteric Taoism, and Alchemical or 'debased' Taoism.
The earliest of these is Philosophical Taoism (Tao-chia), which is
believed to
have developed between the sixth to the second century before the
Christian era,
from the earlier 'Yin-Yang' school of philosophy, whose teachings
it inherited
and integrated into its own 'philosophical system' through the 'I
Ching', now
(unfortunately) most widely known as a work of 'divination'.
Philosophical Taoism is generally thought to have been based on the
'Tao Te
Ching' of the possibly legendary Lao Tzu, and the work of his
follower, Chuang
Tzu, which is known through the book which bears his name, and is
otherwise
without title.
The major development and establishment of Religious Taoism
(Tao-chiao) took
place during the two Han dynasties (from 206 B.C. to 220 A.D.), and
considered
the Tao Te Ching as divine teaching, using specific interpretations
of Lao Tzu's
work as one of its own primary scriptures. The Religious Taoists
deified Lao
Tzu, describing him as the 'T'ai Shang Lao-chun'. In later
centuries, Religious
Taoism was to become a very powerful movement throughout China,
where it was
widely practiced, at least until the middle of the twentieth
century.
The earliest known reference to Alchemy (in Eastern and Western
Literature) is
in the 'Shi-chi', written about eighty-five B.C., but the 'Chou'-i
ts'an t'ung
ch'i' of Wei Po-yang (c.200 A.D.) was probably the first major
alchemical text
to use a Taoist work to this end, some auhorities believeing the
treatise to be
a derivation of the I Ching. This form of alchemy was referred to
by the
Philosophical Taoists as 'debased Taoism'.
Of these three 'forms' of Taoism (or practices which called
themselves Taoist),
Religious and Alchemical Taoism are not mentioned in the text of
this work,
other than where they, and similar practices, were referred to,
usually
indirectly, in the Chinese text (and then usually in a derisory
manner).
Readers of both the I Ching and the Tao Te Ching will readily
apppreciate from
many of Lao Tzu's statements, that he was certainly well versed in
the concepts
explained in the earlier work, and accepted its major precept, that
all things
are always in a state (or process) of change ('I Ching' means 'Book
of
Changes'). However, even allowing for the age of the I Ching, and
the certainty
that its concepts were well known in China at the time of Lao Tzu,
it would
seem, from historical records, that the Tao Te Ching was considered
to be a
perplexing book, even in the period in which it was written.
Although not
mentioning either Lao Tzu or the Tao Te Ching (nor the I Ching) by
name, many of
Chuang Tzu's stories (which are probably apocryphal) serve to
illustrate and
explain points from the Tao Te Ching. If there were no confusion
or doubt,
presumably such explanatory material would not have been required.
In its original form, the Tao Te Ching (as it is now known) is
believed to have
consisted of eighty-one short chapters, these being arranged in two
sections,
known as the 'Tao Ching' and the 'Te Ching'. The first of these
was comprised
of thirty-seven chapters, and the second of forty-four chapters.
The length of
the original work is said to have been approximately five- thousand
characters,
and it is probable that these were written on bamboo strips or
slats, which
would then have been bound together to form two scrolls, each
appearing somewhat
like a venitian blind with vertical slats. These were a common
form of 'record'
in the period of Lao Tzu, this being known as 'The Period of the
Warring
States'.
Since it is not known with absolute certainty that a person named
'Lao Tzu'
actually lived during the period of the warring states, to
catagorically
describe the Tao Te Ching as the work of Lao Tzu would be without
sufficiently
valid historical foundation. Even the 'biography of Lao Tzu' which
may be found
in the 'Historical Records' (Shih-chi) of Ssu-ma Ch'ien (second
century B.C.) is
not without its inconsistencies. This record describes Lao Tzu as
having been an
archivist of the Court of Chou, and further states that he is said
to have
personally instructed Kung Fu Tzu (Confucius).
It is in this last statement that one inconsistency may be found,
for other
chronicles state the date of the death of Lao Tzu to precede that
of the birth
of Kung Fu Tzu by nearly half a century. Even the author of the
'Historical
Records' states his doubts as to the authenticity of the
information available
regarding Lao Tzu, and some scholars maintain that the Tao Te Ching
does not
present a distinctive or single point of view. They argue that it
is probably a
compilation or anthology of sayings from various writers and
schools of thought,
reaching its present form in the third century B.C.
Conversly, according to legend, it is said that on his retirement
from public
office, Lao Tzu headed west, and that the guardian of the pass to
the state of
Ch'in requested that he write a treatise on the Tao before
departing. It is
then that Lao Tzu is supposed to have sat for two days, in which
time he wrote
the Tao Te Ching, after which he left, some writers stating that he
was never
heard of again, others describing his ascent to heaven in the form
of a
magnificent dragon.
Whichever story we believe concerning the existence of Lao Tzu, we
may
reasonably conclude (at least) that there is much contradictory
evidence.
Although I cannot offer conclusive proof that he did exist, I do
not believe
that the contradictions prove that such a person did not exist, and
neither do I
believe they prove the Tao Te Ching to have been written by more
than one
person. As I have stated, the reasons for my beliefs are
admittedly without
sufficient 'hard evidence' to withstand strong philosophical
questioning, but
they are offered here for those who might wish to know of an
argument contrary
to current academic opinion.
Since one meaning of the words 'Lao Tzu' is 'Old Man', it is
very unlikely
that they were used as an ordinary (or 'proper') name, but could
well have been
a 'nickname'. Some authorities claim that this was so in the case
of the person
in question, the nickname possibly being derived from the fact (?)
that he was
born with white hair, like that of an old man. This theory seems
to borne out
by the fact that the second character, can also be used to mean
'child'.
However, in the context of teaching and learning, it also means
'master' or
'scholar' (compared with 'pupil' or 'student'). Furthermore, and
for the
purpose of this discussion, more importantly, the same two
characters which form
the Chinese 'Lao Tzu' form the words 'old scholar', pronounced as
'roshi' in
Japanese, a title usually reserved in that language for a master of
Zen
teaching.
This means that 'Lao Tzu' is the Chinese equivalent to the Japanese
'Roshi'.
For this reason I believe there probably was a person called Lao
Tzu, but that
Lao Tzu was his title, rather than his name. It may of course be
that there
were many 'old scholars', all known by that title, but the
existence of many has
never been considered proof of the non-existence of one.
At this juncture it is perhaps necessary to mention briefly the
historical and
philosophical relationship between Taoism, Ch'an and Zen. The word
'Zen' is the
Japanese pronunciation of the Chinese 'Ch'an', the system
attributed to the
'Bodhidharma' (in Japanese 'Daruma'), described by followers of Zen
Buddhism as
the twenty-eighth Buddhist Patriarch, who is said to have arrived
in China in
526 A.D. Although well known to followers of Zen, it is not always
known to
others that the Bodhidharma then spent nine years in the earliest
Chinese
Buddhist temple, which had by that time been in existence for over
four hundred
years. Furthermore, during that period, the original Buddhism of
India had
undergone many changes in China, much of its teaching having been
adapted
(Tibetan Buddhists might claim, 'adulterated') by its proximity to
Taoism.
Today, in the West at least, the most widely known sects of Zen are
Buddhist.
However, even before its acceptance by Buddhists, Ch'an (or 'Zen')
was accepted
by the Chinese followers of Philosophical Taoism (Tao Chia) as an
adjunct to
their own philosophy and practices. So it was that the
'non-religious' aspects
of Zen and Taoism became integrated into the system known in China
as 'Ch'an
Tao-chia'.
It is probable that we will never know all the reasons for this
two-way
integration which occurred between Tao-chia and Ch'an, but some of
the reasons
become apparent when we learn something of the similarities between
the
philosophies underlying the two systems. It will hopefully suffice
to mention
that the practitioners of each group probably felt an affinity with
the
'fluidity' of thought and action of the practitioners of the other,
recognizing
this as stemming from the same philosophical source as their own.
Similarly, it
is very likely that the members of both groups appreciated the
'ethics' of the
other, since both philosophies emphasize the development of the
individual as a
prerequisite to the development of society.
Notwithstanding any inaccuracies in my own interpretation of
events, of even
greater historical significance is the fact that from about six
hundred A.D.,
the survival of Philosophical Taoism was made possible only through
its adoption
by Ch'an. Had it not been for this fact, the antagonistic attitude
of the
Religious Taoists, combined with their growing governmental power,
might easily
have resulted in the forceful demise of Taoist Philosophy as it is
known today.
As to the continued integration and co-existence of Taoism and Zen,
we
fortunately need look no further than the words of the great Zen
scholar,
Professor D.T. Suzuki, who said,
"To ask a question about Zen is to ask a question
about the Tao."
All this is of course intended to illustrate the links between the
two practices
which use the same written characters ( ) as a teaching name or
honorary
title, and that this title may have been used by the author of the
Tao Te Ching
wishing to retain his anonymity.
If this was the case, it could have been either for reasons of
personal safety
on the part of the author, or out of deference to his own teachers.
Any reader
who has knowledge of the history of China during the peiod of the
warring states
will readily appreciate, and hopefully sympathise with the first of
these
reasons, but the second reason perhaps requires some explanation.
This is now
offered.
Carrying out one's work in an unostentatious manner is an important
aspect of
Taoist teaching, as is respect for one's teachers. In some
instances these two
principles were adhered to so rigorously that a writer or painter
might either
not sign his work at all, or use a pseudonym compiled (possibly as
an anagram)
from the names of his most revered teachers. It is therefore
possible that the
author of the Tao Te Ching used the pseudonym 'Lao Tzu' as an
acknowledgement of
his own teacher, using the title 'old scholar' to refer to that
teacher as he
might have been known and referred to by his own students.
It is quite likely that the title 'Roshi', used in Zen (Japanese
Ch'an)
developed as an 'official title' from its earlier Chinese usage.
In Zen, it is
thought to be rank bad manners to use the real name of one's own
teacher in a
published work, at least in the context of he or she being one's
own teacher
(for reasons which I have attempted to explain in the
'Acknowledgements'
section), but it is quite acceptable to refer to him (or her) by an
honorary
title. Combine any of these possibilties with the fact that one's
own teacher
may have been given or have chosen a 'teaching name' (a pseudonym
under which a
teacher may work) and it becomes easier to understand why it is
impossible to be
definitive regarding the 'real name' of the author or authors of
the Tao Te
Ching. For the purposes of this discussion however, I wish to
continue from the
assumption that the Tao Te Ching did have an author, and that we
may, without
too much 'licence', refer to him as Lao Tzu.
The second factor which causes me to believe that we should not
completely
disregard the legend of the writing of the Tao Te Ching concerns
its cryptic
style. The basis of my belief is twofold. In the first instance,
if, as legend
tells us, Lao Tzu completed his writing in two days, it is not
surprising that
it was cryptic, since this would have required him to write at a
rate of two and
one half thousand words each day. It may therefore be that he
wrote as
succinctly as possible in order to complete his task as quickly as
possible, so
that he could continue on his journey into retirement.
Those who know the Tao Te Ching will also know that Lao Tzu did not
teach that a
task should be rushed; rather, he taught that all things should
occur in their
natural time. This leads to my second point regarding the cryptic
style of the
original work.
We know that the keeper of the pass, who made the request for a
written copy of
Lao Tzu's thoughts, was a well known Taoist of the period named Yin
Hsi, also
referred to as 'Kwan Yin'. As a Taoist, he would certainly have
been familiar
with the teachings of Lao Tzu, even though, as he himself is
supposed to have
told the old philosopher, because of the nature of his work, he had
not been
able to avail himself of personal tuition from the master. It
could be that the
'vagueness' (or seemingly esoteric nature of the first chapter) is
due to the
fact that Lao Tzu would have had no reason to explain the Tao to
someone who was
already versed in Tao-chia.
I believe we can assume that, although possibly not nationally
famous, Lao Tzu
would certainly have been well known in his own province. This
would certainly
seem to be the case, since Yin Hsi either recognised the figure of
Lao Tzu, or
his name, otherwise he would not have made his request to that
particular
traveller.
Assuming the keeper of the pass to know something of the teaching
of Lao Tzu,
his request could have been made in the form of a list of
questions, to which
Lao Tzu might have written the answers in the form of brief (or
cryptic) notes,
as an 'aide memoire'. This might of course also account for the
apparent
discontinuity of the completed work. If the text were written in
answer to a
number of questions, the sequence of the text would conform to that
of the
questions, which might easily have been prepared by Yin Hsi over a
period of
time, in the hope that the occasion might arise when he would meet
with a
scholar such as Lao Tzu, with whom he could then discuss his
questions. This
could account for the apparent repetitions in the text, for two
questions both
phrased in a similar manner, would presumably be answered in a
similar manner.
This concludes the summary of my own beliefs regarding the legend
of Lao Tzu and
the Tao Te Ching, other than to add the rider used frequently even
by those who
disagree totally with my own interpretation of the legend. This is
that,
irrespective of the authenticity of the legend and the problem of
identifying
its authorship, the majority of scholars date the origin of the
text of the Tao
Te Ching no later than 400 B.C. Furthermore, there is virtually no
dissent
among scholars as to its great value as a philosophical, literary
and historical
work.
Up to Index
NOTES ON THE INTERPRETATION
The text of the Tao Te Ching follows immediately after these notes,
the
arrangement following the convention set by Wan Bih in the third
century A.D.
Each of the eighty-one sections is shown in English, the text being
as brief as
English grammar will permit, whilst still retaining sensibility.
The
differences between my own rendering of the text and those of other
translators
will seem to some readers to be minor; to others they may seem
radical. In
either case, the reader is of course free to compare the texts by
referring to
those editions cited earlier in these notes.
The Chinese characters employed as chapter headings are written in
a style
approximating to the period in which the original text was written.
The style
is commonly known as 'small seal script'. Readers wishing to use
modern Chinese
characters for their own researches may of course refer to any or
each of the
Chinese texts mentioned earlier, and there are of course many
others.
'Small seal script' is by no means the earliest written form of
Chinese, but it
is certainly one of the most aesthetically pleasing and easiest to
read. Being
more pictographic than later forms, the symbolism of the images
contained within
the small seal characters is easier to understand than it is in
later forms.
Modern Chinese script is virtually always more stylized, and (if
hand written)
frequently more 'freehand', and therefore sometimes difficult for
the
inexperienced reader to decipher.
Each small seal script chapter heading provides an approximate
rendering of
either the English title beneath or beside which it appears, or of
the key
concept or concepts embodied in the text of that chapter. As with
the Chinese
text itself, there are a number of different 'authentic' chapter
headings. In
most instances I have used a 'traditional' heading, but where even
the
traditional meaning is unclear I have used the heading I believe to
be most
appropriate to the contents of the chapter. Following the usual
conventions,
horizontally presented script should be read from left to right,
and vertically
presented script should be read from top to bottom, the right hand
column first.
As I have stated earlier, because of the cryptic nature of the
original text,
and also because of the difference between the structure of English
and Chinese
grammar, a completely literal translation of the Chinese text would
make little
if any sense to the reader not versed in both the written Chinese
language and
the concepts of Taoism. This means that virtually any intelligible
English
rendering of the Tao Te Ching is bound to be longer than the
original Chinese
text. The variation in the length of many English (and Chinese)
texts of the
Tao Te Ching will be readily apparent to the reader of those
translations listed
in the reference section.
There are many valid arguments for and against the inclusion of
commentaries on
the text in any edition of the Tao Te Ching, but in this instance
I hope that
the English rendering will 'speak for itself', thus serving the
purpose for
which it is intended. It is for this reason that no separate
commentaries are
included.
The text in this edition is somewhat longer than that found in most
other
translations. There are two reasons for this, the first being that
it includes
certain expansions resulting from points raised in discussion by my
own
students. In those instances where there was apparent lack of
clarity in my
original drafts, additions have been made to clarify the concepts
involved.
(Where additions have been made to the most commonly available
Chinese and
English editions, the addition and the reason for its inclusion are
annotated in
the appendix at the end of the book.) The second reason is the
form of
interpretation employed, the rationale of which is now briefly
described.
I do not believe it is by accident that the Tao Te Ching can be
interpreted at
many different levels without contradiction. The actual
interpretation placed
upon the text by any translator will depend on many factors, as has
already been
discussed. However, there is no doubt that Tao-chia and Ch'an are
both very
much concerned with individual development, maintaining that this
is essential
to a healthy society.
It is from this particular viewpoint that the rationale for this
interpretation
has developed. Although other translators have certainly raised
this issue, to
the best of my knowledge this is the first rendering to give
priority to this
aspect of the Tao Te Ching. It was because my own students
requested such an
interpretation in English, and because we were unable to find such
an
interpretation that I undertook the translation and interpretation
presented
here.
Stanley Rosenthal
(Shi-tien Roshi)
British School of Zen Taoism
Cardiff, September 1984
Up to Index
THE TAO AND ITS NAME
1. Naming things enables us to differentiate between them, but
names are
words, and words easily give rise to confusion. They do not
replace the thing
or direct experience of the thing which they name, but only
represent or
describe it.
Consider a thing such as a strawberry. If we wish to find the word
'strawberry', we look in a dictionary; if we wish to find a
description of a
strawberry, we look in an encyclopaedia. But if we are hungry, we
do not go to
the library, but to the field where fine strawberries may be found.
If we do not
know where there is such a field, we might seek guidance as to
where fine
strawberries may be found. A book on the Tao is like such a guide.
It can
point us in the direction of the strawberry patch, but cannot
provide the fruit
itself. It can give an idea of the taste of Tao, but of itself,
has no taste to
compare with direct experience of the Tao.
Consider now three things: There is the universal principle which
enables all
things to be, and to flourish naturally; there is the name 'Tao',
by which that
universal principle is known; and there are words which describe
the
manifestations of the Tao.
Even the name 'Tao' is only a convenience, and should not be
confused with the
universal principle which bears that name, for such a principle
embraces all
things, so cannot be accurately named nor adequately described.
This means that
Tao cannot be understood, for it is infinite, whereas the mind of
man is finite,
and that which is finite cannot encompass that which is infinite.
Although we cannot understand Tao, we are not prevented from having
knowledge of
it, for understanding stems from one of the two forms of knowledge.
It stems
from that which is called cognitive knowledge, the knowledge born
of words and
numbers, and other similar devices. The other form of knowledge,
conative
knowledge, needs no words or other such devices, for it is the form
of knowledge
born of direct personal experience. So it is that conative
knowledge is also
known as experiential knowledge.
Cognitive and experiential knowledge both have their roots in
reality, but
reality is complex, and complexity is more of a barrier to
cognitive knowledge
than it is to experiential knowledge, for when we seek cognitive
knowledge of a
thing, that is, understanding of it, the knowledge we gain of that
thing is
understanding only of its manifestations, which is not knowledge of
the thing
itself.
We may seek to understand a thing, rather than to experience it,
because, in a
world beset with man made dangers, it is frequently safer to
understand than to
experience. Tao is not man made, and there is nothing in it to
fear. So it is
that we may experience Tao without fear.
When we cease to seek cognitive knowledge, that is, cease to seek
understanding
of a thing, we can gain experiential knowledge of that thing. This
is why it is
said that understanding Tao is not the same as knowing Tao; that
understanding
Tao is only to know that which it manifests, and that knowing Tao
is to be one
with the universal principal which is Tao. This is to say that
knowledge of Tao
is not the same as understanding Tao. To know Tao is to experience
both Tao and
the manifestations of that universal principle. As human beings,
we are born as
manifestations of Tao.
If this seems complex, the reason is because Tao is both simple and
complex. It
is complex when we try to understand it, and simple when we allow
ourselves to
experience it. Trying to understand Tao is like closing the
shutters of a
window before looking for a shadow. We might close the shutters to
prevent
anyone from discovering our treasure, but the same shutters prevent
the
moonlight from entering the room. All there is in the room is
darkness, and in
total darkness we cannot find the shadow, no matter how hard or
diligently we
seek.
We call one thing a shadow, and another darkness, but the shadow is
darkness,
and the darkness shadow, for in reality, both darkness and shadow
are absence of
light, yet we call one shadow and the other darkness. The shadow
is darkness in
the midst of light, but within total darkenss, the shadow seems to
disappear,
for darkness is a shadow within shadows. We may think that the
shadow has been
destroyed when all light is removed, but it has not been wiped
away; in reality
it has grown, but we need light even to see that form of darkenss
which we call
a shadow.
Such is the pursuit of the universal priciple called Tao, that if
we seek to
understand it, we prevent the very means by which it may be found,
for the only
way in which we might find Tao is through the experience of Tao.
We find Tao
when we do not seek it, and when we seek it, it leaves us, just as
the silver
moonlight leaves the room when we close the shutters. We find and
know Tao
when we allow ourselves to find and know it, just as the moonlight
returns when
we allow it to return.
We do not need to seek Tao as we seek physical treasures such as
jade or gold.
We do not need to seek Tao as we seek such treasures as fame or
titles. We do
not need to seek the treasure of Tao, for although the greatest of
treasures, it
is also the most common. Perhaps it is bacause it is so common
that so few men
find it; they seek it only in mysterious and secret places, in
chasms and caves,
and in the workplace of the alchemist. The Tao is not hidden in
these places,
and is hidden only from those who frequent and inhabit them,
secretively, and
with the shutters closed.
Just as darkness may be known as the absence of light, so to may
light be known
as the absence of darkness. When we experience darkness and light
as having the
same source, we are close to the Tao, for Tao is the source of both
darkness and
light, just as it is also the source of all other natural things.
When we
experience ourselves as part of Tao, as a shadow or reflection of
the universal
principle, we have found it, for it is said that "Experience of
Tao is Tao".
Up to Index
1. KNOWLEDGE OF 'THE TAO', AND EXPERIENCE OF THE TAO.
There is a way in which we may conduct our lives without regrets,
and in such a
manner as assists in developing and realizing our individual
potential, without
harming others, or inhibiting the realization of their potential,
and which is
beneficial to a healthy society.
Such a way of life may of course be conducted without a name, and
without
description, but in order that others may know of it, and so as to
distinguish
it from other ways in which life may be conducted, we give it a
name, and use
words to describe it.
When discussing or describing this way in which life may be
conducted, rather
than refer to it in full, for convenience, we refer to it as 'the
way', meaning
simply that the discussion is concerned with this particular way,
not that it is
the only way of conducting one's life. In order that we might
distinguish it
more easily from other ways, we refer to it also by its original
name, which is
'Tao'.
By intellectual intent, that is, through thought and words, and by
considering
ourselves as non-participating observers of this way of life, we
may gain
knowledge of its manifestations; but it is only through
participation that we
can actually experience such a way of life for ourselves.
Knowledge of anything is not the same as the thing of which we have
that
knowledge. When we have knowledge of a thing but do not have
experience of it,
in trying to describe that thing, all we can describe is our
knowledge, not the
thing itself. Equally, even when we have experience of a thing,
all we can
convey is knowledge of that experience, not the experience itself.
Knowledge and experience are both real, but they are different
realities, and
their relationship is frequently made complex by what distinguishes
them, one
from the other. When they are used according to that which is
appropriate to
the situation, we may develop that way of life which enables us to
pass through
the barrier of such complexities. We may have knowledge of "Tao",
but Tao
itself can only be experienced.
Up to Index
2. LETTING GO OF OPPOSITES.
It is the nature of the ordinary person, the person who is not yet
at one with
the Tao, to compare the manifestations of the natural qualities
possessed by
things. Such a person tries to learn of such qualities by
distinguishing
between their manifestations, and so learns only of their
comparative
manifestations.
So it is that the ordinary person might consider one thing
beautiful when
compared with another which he considers to be ugly; one thing
skillfully made
compared with another which he considers badly made. He knows of
what he has as
a result of knowing what he does not have, and of that which he
considers easy
through that which he considers difficult. He considers one thing
long by
comparing it with another thing which he considers short; one thing
high and
another low. He knows of noise through silence and of silence
through noise,
and learns of that which leads through that which follows.
When such comparisons are made by a sage, that is a person who is
in harmony
with the Tao, that person is aware of making a judgement, and that
judgements
are relative to the person who makes them, and to the situation in
which they
are made, as much as they are relative to that which is judged.
Through the experience and knowledge through which he has gained
his wisdom, the
sage is aware that all things change, and that a judgement which is
right in one
situation might easily be wrong in another situation. He is
therefore aware
that he who seems to lead does not always lead, and that he who
seems to follow
does not always follow.
Because of this awareness, the sage frequently seems neither to
lead nor follow,
and often seems to do nothing, for that which he does is done
without guile; it
is done naturally, being neither easy nor difficult, not big or
small. Because
he accomplishes his task and then lets go of it without seeking
credit, he
cannot be discredited. Thus, his teaching lasts for ever, and he is
held in high
esteem.
Up to Index
3. WITHOUT SEEKING ACCLAIM.
The talented person who is also wise, retains humility, and so does
not create
rivalry. The person who possesses material things, and who does
not boast of
his possessions, does much to prevent stealing. Those who are
jealous of
talents, skills or possessions of others, easily become possessed
themselves by
envy.
The sage is satisfied with a sufficiency; he is not jealous, and so
is free of
envy. He does not seek fame and titles, but maintains his energy
and keeps
himself supple. He minimizes his desires, and does not train
himself in guile.
He thus remains pure at heart. By acting in an uncontrived manner,
the harmony
of the inner world of his thoughts and the external world of his
environment is
maintained. He remains at peace with himself.
For these reasons, an administration which is concerned with the
welfare of
those whom it serves, does not encourage the seeking of status and
titles; it
does not create jealousy and rivalry amongst the people, but
ensures that they
are able to have a sufficiency, without causing them to become
discontent,
therefore the members of such an administration do not seek honours
for
themselves, nor act with guile towards the people.
Up to Index
4. THE UNFATHOMABLE TAO.
The mind should not be filled with desires. The individual who is
at one with
the Tao is aware of the distinction between that which is needed
as a
sufficiency, and that which is a desire, or merely wanted rather
than needed.
It is the manner of the Tao that even though continuously used, it
is naturally
replenished, never being emptied, and never being as full as a
goblet which is
filled to the brim and therefore spills its fine spring water upon
the ground.
The Tao therefore does not waste that with which it is charged, yet
always
remains a source of nourishment for those who are not already so
full that they
cannot partake of it.
Even the finest blade will lose its sharpeness if tempered beyond
its mettle.
Even the most finely tempered sword is of no avail against water,
and will
shatter if struck against a rock. A tangled cord is of little use
after it has
been untangled by cutting it.
Just as a fine sword should be used only by an experienced
swordsman, intellect
should be tempered with experience. By this means, tangled cord
may be
untangled, and seemingly insoluable problems resolved; colours and
hues may be
harmonized to create fine paintings, and people enabled to exist in
unity with
each other because they no longer feel that they exist only in the
shadow of the
brilliance of others.
To conduct oneself without guile is to conduct oneself in a natural
manner, and
to do this is to be in contact with nature. By maintaining
awareness of the way
of nature, the wise person becomes aware of the Tao, and so becomes
aware that
this is how its seemingly unfathomable mysteries may be
experienced.
Up to Index
5. TRANQUIL BUT UNCEASING.
Those things which are in opposition with each other are not
benevolent towards
each other, and may even treat each other with contempt or
malevolence.
Although the creatures which are born of nature may be in
opposition with each
other, nature itself is in opposition to nothing for there is
nothing for it to
oppose. It acts without conscious intention, and it is therefore
neither
deliberately benevolent, contemptuous nor malevolent.
In this respect the way of the Tao is the same as the way of
nature. Therefore,
even when acting in a benevolent manner, the sage does not act from
any
conscious desire to be benevolent.
Through his manner of breathing like a babe, he remains free of
conscious
desire, and so retains his tranquility. By this means he is empty
of desire,
and his energy is not drained from him.
Up to Index
6. THE MANIFESTATION OF TAO THROUGH COMPLIMENTARY
OPPOSITES
All physical things possess certain natural qualities, such as
size, shape and
colour. Since the universal principle encompasses all things, so it
encompasses
their natural qualities.
Being possessed by all things, natural qualities are general to all
things, but
in order to relate to a quality, we think of it as it exists
relative to a
particular thing, and to ourselves. We therefore think of and
describe a
quality according to how it is manifested through one particular
thing compared
with another. Thus, we judge one thing to be big, compared with
another thing,
which we think of as small; one person young, and another old; one
sound noisy,
and another quiet. Equally, we judge and compare by thinking of
the aesthetic
quality in terms of its manifestations, 'beautiful' or 'ugly';
morality in terms
of good or bad; possession in terms of having or not having;
ability in terms of
ease or difficulty; length in terms of long or short; height in
terms of high
or low; sound in terms of noisy or quiet; light in terms of
brightness or
darkness.
Although many of the manifestations which we compare are judged by
us to be
opposites, one to the other, they are not in opposition, but are
complimentary,
for even extremes are nothing other than aspects or specific
examples of the
quality which encompasses them. Both big and small are
manifestations or
examples of size, young and old are examples of age, noise and
quietness are
aspects of sound, and brightness and darkness are extremes of
light.
It is the nature of the ordinary man to compare and judge the
manifestations of
the naturally occurring qualities inherent in things and in
situations. It is
not wrong to do this, but we should not delude ourselves into
believing that we
thereby describe the quality rather than a manifestation of the
quality.
Whilst all judgements are comparative, a judgement is frequently,
if not always,
relative to the individual who makes that judgement, and also to
the time at
which it is made. To the young child, the father may be old, but
when the son
reaches that age, it is unlikely that he will consider himself old.
To the
child, the garden fence is high, but when the child grows bigger,
the same fence
is low. The adult in his physical prime knows that to run ten
miles, which is
easy at that time, will become more difficult as he becomes older,
but that that
the patience required to walk will become easier.
The sage knows that qualitative judgements, such as old and young,
big and
small, easy and difficult, or leading and following, relate as much
to the
person who makes that judgement, as they relate to the thing or
action
described. Consider a sage and an ordinary man sitting on a hill
in the late
evening, looking down on the road below. When darkness has fallen,
they both
see the light of two lanterns approaching, one yellow, the other
red, bobbing
gently as their bearers pass by. From the positions of the two
lights, the
ordinary man knows that the bearer of the yellow lantern leads the
bearer of the
red. As he watches, he sees the red lantern draw level with the
yellow, and as
they pass beneath him, the red lantern preceding the yellow.
The ordinary man wonders why the two lantern bearers do not walk
side by side.
The sage, who has seen what his companion has seen, thinks it right
that the two
travellers should do as they have done, to walk side by side
through the night,
neither leading and neither following the other.
The sage is aware that he who seems to lead does not always lead,
and that he
who seems to follow does not always follow. Because of this, the
sage
frequently seems neither to lead nor follow, and often seems to do
nothing, for
that which he does is natural, being neither easy nor difficult,
not big or
small.
Those changes which occur naturally in life, the sage accepts as
natural,
accepting them as an opportunity for learning, whilst realizing
that knowledge
is not his possession. Because he knows that the credit for
learning is due to
the willingness of the student, he teaches without teaching, but by
allowing his
students to observe the virtue of observing natural qualities,
rather than only
comparing and judging their manifestations. He does this without
seeking
credit, and continues without contriving to be given credit.
Because of this,
his teaching lasts for ever, and he is held in high esteem.
The gifted person retains humility and thus prevents jealousy. The
person who
does not boast of his possessions prevents stealing. Only those
who have greed
are perplexed by envy. The wise person is therefore satisfied with
a
sufficiency, and is free of envy. He does not seek fame and
titles, but keeps
himself strong and supple. He minimizes his desires, and does not
train himself
in guile. He thus remains pure at heart. By acting in an
uncontrived manner he
maintains his inner harmony.
Up to Index