Chapter 41

Original Text

上士聞道，動而行之。中士聞道，若存若亡。下士聞道，大笑之。不笑不足以為道。故建言有之：明道若昧，進道若退，夷道若類；上德若谷，大白若辱，廣德若不足，建德若偷，質直若渝；大方無隅，大器晚成，大音希聲，大象無形；道隱無名。夫惟道，善貸且成。

Translation

The upper scholar hears of Dao and is moved to practice it. The middle scholar hears of Dao and half keeps it, half forgets. The lower scholar hears of Dao and bursts out laughing -- were it not laughed at, it would not be worthy of being Dao.

Therefore the ancient sages had a saying:

The bright Dao seems dim; the advancing Dao seems to retreat; the level Dao seems like everything else.

Upper De seems like a valley; great whiteness seems soiled; broad De seems insufficient; steadfast De seems lax; solid uprightness seems changeable.

The greatest square has no corners; the greatest vessel is completed last; the greatest music has the rarest sound; the greatest image has no form.

Dao is hidden, without name. Only Dao is good at lending and at bringing to completion.

Word Notes

• 亡 — "forgotten": To be lost, to vanish.
• 建 — "established": To set up, to found. "Established sayings" means ancient maxims.
• 偷 — "lax": Idle, negligent, perfunctory. Not "stealing" but the classical sense of appearing indolent or easygoing.
• 渝 — "changeable": To alter, to shift.
• 隅 — "corner": An angle, an edge.
• 貸 — "lending": To lend, to loan. Dao lends its qi to the myriad beings; when their life is complete, the qi returns to Dao.

Chapter Explanation

The upper scholar hears of Dao and immediately puts it into practice. The middle scholar hears of Dao and sometimes practices it, sometimes does not. The lower scholar hears of Dao and bursts out laughing. If the lower scholar did not laugh, it would not be sufficient to count as Dao.

Those who established teachings in ancient times spoke of this: the one bright in Dao is inwardly lucid, but outwardly simple and unpolished, appearing dim. The one who advances in Dao is inwardly vigorous, but outwardly contends with no one, appearing to retreat. The most marvelous Dao, unseen to the eye, outwardly blends its light and mingles with the dust, appearing no different from ordinary people. One who possesses upper De is humble and self-abasing, like an empty valley receiving all things. One of great whiteness still emerges from the mud, appearing soiled. One of broad De does not consider himself possessed of De, appearing insufficient. One who can build De is quiescent and practices nonaction, appearing idle and negligent. One who is solid in truth follows his nature without clinging, appearing changeable and inconstant. The greatest square is square within but does not put on airs — it has no sharp edges. The greatest vessel is not made in haste, and so is completed last. The greatest music is like the sounds of nature, rare and sparse. The greatest image is like the Ultimateless, without visible form. True Dao is most hidden, without name or appearance.

Therefore the lower scholar, not knowing, laughs. Yet even though he laughs, only Dao is good at lending its qi to the myriad beings and bringing them to completion. The myriad beings are born by borrowing Dao's qi, and when their lives are complete, they return the qi to Dao.

Discourse

Ordinary people despise what is plain and common, and marvel at what is strange and miraculous. But all that is strange and miraculous amounts to no more than technique. It cannot govern the state or bring peace to all under Heaven. Only the great Dao is utterly even and utterly ordinary, unchanged through all the ages. Though even and ordinary, it never sinks to the level of the vulgar. Therefore it is difficult to win people's belief, and harder still to move them to practice it.

Among Confucius's disciples, only Yan Hui diligently practiced it, "for three months never departing from humaneness." The rest were in the state of "sometimes keeping it, sometimes losing it — reaching it now and then for a day or a month, and no more." Beyond them, the people of the world either laughed at Confucius as pedantic, or laughed at him as old-fashioned. Those with a smattering of understanding laughed at Confucius for not caring for his own reputation, or for not reading the times. Because Confucius harbored profound depths within, those who never found the gate could not enter. They never saw the splendor and abundance of the ancestral halls and the hundred offices, and so they mocked.

Yet one who truly possesses Dao follows his nature and acts, heedless of whether others laugh or not. When Dao prevails, Heaven and Earth settle into their proper places and the myriad beings flourish, and all people under Heaven receive its blessings without even knowing it. Whether others laugh or do not laugh — what does it matter?