Three emperors read Laozi.

Small fish must not be stirred in cooking; a great state must not be troubled in governing. Trouble wearies people; stirring breaks fish apart. Presiding over the world through the Way, one does not seek delusive blessings, so ghosts have no means to display spiritual power. Saying ghosts do not manifest power does not mean they cease existing or lack spirit, only that they possess spirit without displaying uncanny phenomena to injure people. Ghostly manifestations injure people; the sage's contrived action injures people. Ghosts now refrain from manifestations that injure because the sage is nonactive, clear, and still. Spirits injuring people harm the state and deplete its root; the sage injuring people impoverishes spirits and deprives them of sacrifices. Now neither injures beings, so virtue jointly returns.

Repeatedly disturbing a multitude yields little success; repeatedly moving a great vessel causes much damage; repeatedly stirring small fish breaks them up; repeatedly changing laws in a great state confuses people. Thus the Way of government values clear stillness, and the people settle themselves. The sage is lord of spirits, people, and all things. Unavoidably presiding over the world, nothing compares with nonaction. The Way constantly does not act: preside through it and no person remains ungoverned. Those entities that act by depending on people likewise all become settled and rest, none emerging to haunt. Hence 'its ghosts do not manifest spiritual power.' One presiding through the Way does nothing deliberately and is constantly spontaneous. There are no disasters of attacking warfare or penalties of killing: this is not injuring people. Then spirits and people neither injure each other, and virtue jointly returns. Spirits have nowhere to display numinous responses; they simply bestow many blessings. Hence their power does not injure people. People have nowhere to employ clever ingenuity; they simply eat and drink in everyday life. What injury could there be?

Those governing the world well strive to avoid extravagance that wastes the people's wealth and wearies their strength. Extravagance necessarily starts palace, terrace, and pavilion projects and all kinds of labor service arbitrarily. Farming is neglected, supplies fail, and the state is endangered. Thus the analogy of cooking small fish provides a model for kings ruling the world. The four occurrences of 'its/their' in the text establish the analogy: ghosts originally do not manifest power, but because the contemporary ruler lacks the Way, they cling to grass and wood and together produce strange phenomena to foreshadow what will come and give warnings. If the ruler recognizes these unusual signs and reforms his wrong heart to make the heart of the Way correct, heaven's intention can be recalled. Otherwise, though heaven does not announce it [the transmitted wording is unusual], it must act through someone fit to receive its mandate: the state passes to another and the people follow another, impossible to retain. This is why it says spiritual power does not injure people, and not simply that spiritual power does not injure people. If spirits send no calamity and the ruler is secure and people abundant, his virtue reaches heaven and heaven's favor necessarily descends, leaving lasting freedom from trouble. This is neither injuring the other, so the two virtues return to each other.

Exalting worthies leaves traces; pursuing those traces arouses contention. Let worthy and unworthy each occupy their proper lot, and they will not contend.

'Goods hard to obtain' means what is absent from one's allotted nature. Seeking it cannot bring it, hence 'hard to obtain.' If one is dissatisfied with one's original lot and hopes to imitate what one lacks, one has already lost one's natural allotment: is this not theft? Let things follow their nature and tasks match their abilities. Then goods hard to obtain will not be prized, and the genuine condition of one's nature and life will not be stolen away.

Without traces of exalting worthies or pursuit of goods hard to obtain, there is no displayed object of desire, and the heart is not confused or disturbed.

When desirable things do not disturb the heart, it is empty.

When the Way and virtue fill one inwardly, there is no boasting or pursuit, just as one stops eating on being satisfied and develops no greedy demands.

An empty heart makes ambition weak.

A full belly makes the bones strong.

Always keep the people without knowledge of rivalry and exaltation, and without desire for greedy seeking.

Transform people through clarity and stillness, until all are without such knowledge and desire. Should someone with clever knowledge appear, make that person not dare to act.

Through practicing nonaction, people attain their own nature, and a transformation toward simplicity becomes trustworthy.

Exalting worthies multiplies clever knowledge, until the whole world is thrown into alarm and Confucians and Mohists arise together. Prizing goods multiplies desires, until people steal in broad daylight and bore through walls at noon. Without exalting worthies, people each settle into their allotted nature and life, with nothing to boast of or reach after: hence 'they do not contend.' Without prizing goods, people each rest in the genuine condition of their nature and life, with nothing to covet: hence 'they do not steal.' Zhuangzi says, 'Cut away the conduct of Zeng and Shi; clamp shut the mouths of Yang and Mo, and the virtue of the world will begin to share mysterious unity.' The 'Hounds of Lu' says, 'Do not prize exotic objects and disparage useful things, and the people will have enough.'

When people have desires, they subordinate their natural life to competing for them, stopping at nothing in seizure, deception, and falsehood. Bo Yi saw reputation as desirable and starved on Mount Shouyang. Robber Zhi saw profit as desirable and committed violence below Dongling. Their heat scorches like fire and their cold freezes like ice; their hearts become agitated, disordered, and arrogant, unable to hold to the Way. The sage does not pursue profit, avoid harm, delight in long life, grieve over early death, take glory in success, or feel disgraced by hardship. What is there to desire? When desirous deliberations do not sprout, my heart is clear and still, responding whenever affected. At rest it has no obstruction; moving it pursues nothing. Who could disturb it? At forty Confucius was free from perplexity. Mencius said, 'At forty my heart was unmoved.'

A valley responds because it is empty; a mirror reflects because it is empty; pipes receive breath because they are empty; ears hear, eyes see, and the nose smells because they are empty. Something filling them would obstruct these functions. The sage undertakes government only when unavoidable, regarding all with equal benevolence, caring deeply for those near and extending care to those far away, following what is inherently so and entrusting things to themselves. Where could private intention enter? Yao's promotion of Shun and employment of Gun came close to this. An empty heart listens impartially and observes comprehensively, without feelings of liking and dislike; a full belly is sufficiently nourished and at ease, without greedy thoughts. What worthies need exalting, or goods need prizing? The sage serves the belly, not the eyes, because the belly accommodates without choosing.

Ambition is what the heart directs itself toward; bones are what support the body. Strong ambition leads one to sacrifice endlessly for reputation, pursue goods insatiably, boast of achievements, or take pride in ability, moving ever further from the Way. Weak bones lead one to drift and scatter, clashing with and wearing against things, sinking together without return. The sage always lowers the self, and others raise the sage; always places the self last, and others put the sage first. Knowing the male, preserving the female; knowing glory, preserving disgrace: this is 'weakening ambition.' [The source omits the verb before 'disgrace.'] Resting in uprightness, one cannot be displaced by things; holding firmly, one cannot be overturned by myriad changes. The indestructible form resembles Guangchengzi, whose body had not declined after twelve hundred years: this is 'strengthening the bones.' Zhuangzi says, 'Remain in unknowing, and virtue does not depart. Become one with desirelessness: this is called plain simplicity.' In plain simplicity the people attain their nature. The sage's government seeks only to let people attain their nature. Much knowledge damages their allotted nature and life; many desires disturb their genuine condition. Calling this government only increases disorder. Hence 'always keep the people without knowledge and desire.'

Debaters dare not display their eloquence; the brave dare not flaunt their prowess; the capable dare not boast of their talents; the clever dare not deploy their scrutiny. Showing off intelligence, pursuing cunning devices, and multiplying laws and commands to overshadow the multitude: the sage forbids and stops all these. This is 'making those who know not dare to act.' The nine officers all attend to their duties and are kept long in office: how could this mean gouging into affairs with cleverness? They merely carry out the ruler's commands and bring them to the people. [Several characters in this paragraph appear corrupt; their contextual senses are rendered.]

Does the sage's government abandon people and cut off things, suddenly placing itself in a realm without affairs? It simply lets action emerge from nonaction. The transformations of all things belong to what is within form. The sage embodies the Way and stands above all things, unifying their achievements and ordering them according to their patterns. When things arise, the sage follows them to observe their return; when things are born, follows them to bring about their completion. What could remain ungoverned? Thus, ordered above, sun, moon, and stars attain their proper sequence; ordered below, birds, beasts, grasses, and trees fulfill their natures.

Caolu has already explained this fully; I will add a further comment. Laozi's intention is profound. The country that values the worthy has many ills, and treasuring difficult-to-obtain goods brings suffering to the people due to thievery. By 'many ills,' I mean this: suppose a state has honest and good ministers and the realm is securely settled, yet the ruler still makes a special display of esteeming worthies. People are deceitful, and the appearance of worthiness can be learned. [The connective wording of this sentence is uncertain in the source.] Once they are able to feign it, if they become intimate with the ruler in the future, the pure and good ministers will either be harmed or leave. Therefore, Laozi says: not seeing what is desirable makes the people not chaotic. In general, making the people not know the prestige attached to worthies or the rarity attached to wealth and goods makes the world peaceful. The sage always maintains a simple and frugal way of life, and does not enrich his own person, making the people rich and filling their bellies. When the people are rich, the foundation of the country is solid. However, one must not rely on the people's wealth and the country's strength, for this will give rise to other troubles. This is what is meant by filling the belly, weakening the will, and strengthening the bones. Making the people have no knowledge and no desires is the same as the previous text, which says not to value the worthy and not to treasure difficult-to-obtain goods, resulting in the people not seeing and not being greedy. Once one knows that the country does not value the worthy, even if one knows what is admirable, one will not dare to do it. All things have been carefully managed and reasonably done. Once things are at peace, there is no need for action.

In allowing the world to be itself, nonaction is prized. If government orders the state through political instructions and employs troops through deceptive surprises, neither accords with the Way. Only absence of affairs and nonaction can take the world. These three statements introduce the theme. 'Through this': know it from what follows. Governing the state through political measures constantly multiplies taboos; people lose their occupations and become poorer. Sharp instruments mean expedient schemes. When rulers prize many schemes and cannot return to substance, those below respond with deception, making the state increasingly dark and disordered. When rulers prize many techniques and cannot display simplicity, those below respond with extravagance, making excessive, strange objects proliferate. Once nonaction is lost, laws and commands become more explicit; people steal the laws to practice treachery and all become thieves. Is this not their multiplication? Nonaction brings clear stillness, so people transform themselves. Absence of affairs avoids disturbance, so people enrich themselves. Loving stillness obtains nature, so people correct themselves. Desirelessness preserves harmony, so people become simple. This is taking the world through absence of affairs.

Correctness is the Way's constant aspect; the exceptional is its changing aspect; absence of affairs is its genuineness. The state is settled through correctness, troops win through exceptional methods. The genuineness of the Way admits no private imposition. Follow things' spontaneity and the world is governed. People are not difficult to gather: love them and they become close, benefit them and they come, inflict what they hate and they scatter. Now, without any heart of love or benefit, numerous taboo prohibitions send them scattering to the four directions: thus they become poorer. Those with mechanical devices necessarily have mechanical affairs; those with mechanical affairs necessarily have a calculating heart. When calculation arises, pure whiteness is incomplete, and some deceive those above through improper ways. Relying on clever superiority makes people pursue branches, while strange clothing and unusual instruments emerge to disorder customs. Scrutiny carried too far necessarily meets an unworthy heart in response. Heaven is clear through nonaction; earth peaceful through nonaction. When their two nonactions join, all things transform. The sage is simply heaven and earth. Thus the people improve daily without knowing who causes it. When a water mirror meets forms, it employs no clever contrivance, yet their squareness, roundness, crookedness, or straightness cannot escape. Why should it await level, line, compass, and square before correctness appears? The world fundamentally has no affairs: mediocre people disturb it. Without anything to disturb them, people enrich themselves. Do not elevate worthies and people do not compete; do not value hard-to-obtain goods and people do not steal. Share desirelessness, and people's nature is attained.

With 'govern the state through correctness,' Laozi speaks in concrete terms. The following 'employ troops through the exceptional' and 'take the world through absence of affairs' are remarkable writing. Correctness means uprightness, and governing the state is substantial wording. The exceptional does not mean deceptive warfare: it means spreading benevolence and virtue outside, fully extending them to the enemy, so they admire, submit, and return. Neither side then injures living beings. Skillfully pacifying calamity and disorder and settling the world is employing troops through the exceptional: exceptional in spreading virtue. Taking the world without affairs means without the affair of battle. When employing troops exceptionally is unavoidable, the exceptional lies in disciplined deployment: the other side is wrong and we are right. The king's army is exceptional in not killing living beings. The classic says: 'How do I know this is so?' This means that if one follows the great Way, the undertaking must flourish; hence 'this is so.' It further says that many people in the world are poor, blades and weapons are widespread among them, and thieves are numerous: all these are sources of incipient disorder. A benighted king values technical ingenuity, attends to emptiness instead of the state's correct substance, and receives strange objects every morning. Punishments and administration lack clarity while laws and commands stand prominently displayed: wrongs and grievances then produce upheaval. Therefore the sage ends strange applications, practices simplicity and uprightness, redresses injustice, and executes slanderers and flatterers. Once these matters are carried out, the common people are peaceful, the realm clear, and customs simple. Thus it further speaks of 'unobtrusiveness': simply preserving absence of affairs makes popular customs substantial, the ruler's good fortune. It also speaks of 'inquisitorial scrutiny,' meaning oppressive government: people have many deficiencies, the ruler's misfortune. Laozi teaches rulers not to exaggerate the earlier exceptional methods, lest people imagine literal trickery. If speaking of exceptionality, how could anyone without skill endure long in the world? Though called exceptional, it is really correctness's subtlety. People do not know endurance and take reckless talk as exceptional. Regarding this Way, is it truly exceptional or correct? Ancient and modern people have misnamed this word. Thus the sage guards correctness without changing and, though strong, does not rely on ability. The Way proceeds and is accomplished; people are peaceful and things abundant.