Lao-tzu, A Study in Chinese Philosophy

In Short

This work is a scholarly inquiry into the life and teachings of Lao-tzŭ, the semi-legendary author of the Tao-tê Ching. By examining historical records, folklore, and centuries of commentary, the volume unpacks the elusive concept of the Tao—the universal, formless source of all existence. It distinguishes between the original philosophical tenets and the later, often mythologized, religious practices of Taoism. By contextualizing Lao-tzŭ within the broader landscape of Chinese antiquity and comparing his radical, quietist ethics with the more structured precepts of Confucianism, the book provides a rigorous, if modest, guide for navigating an ancient classic.

The Story

The inquiry begins with the figure of Lao-tzŭ himself, a man whose historical existence is shrouded in legend. The narrative traces how his followers, driven by a rivalry with the growing influence of Buddhism, elevated him from a mortal teacher to a divine being. The author presents the accounts of Lao-tzŭ’s miraculous birth—emerging from a plum tree after a seventy-two-year gestation, already possessing the features of an old man—as evidence of the later "spiritualization" of his character. By cutting through these mythic accretions, the text seeks to recover the identity of a man who likely served as a keeper of the imperial archives during the Chou dynasty, a position that granted him access to the relics and records of early Chinese civilization.

The core of the book moves from the man to his masterpiece, the Tao-tê Ching. The author meticulously details the bibliographic history of the text, noting the various divisions of the work—ranging from fifty-five to eighty-one chapters—and the influence of different commentators throughout the Han, Sung, and Yuan dynasties. This provides a structural roadmap, showing how the text was interpreted by diverse scholars who often struggled to reconcile the sage’s cryptic, anti-intellectual stances with the more rigid, moralistic expectations of their own eras.

The argument then shifts to the philosophical substance of the Tao. The author describes it as the eternal, nameless ultimate cause of the universe—a force that is "calm, void, solitary, and unchanging," yet also the model for all living things. The book explores the concept of Tê, or virtue, as the particular manifestation of Tao within individual beings. This leads to a discussion of the "speculative physics" of the system, where nature is seen as an impersonal, impartial force. The author illustrates this with the metaphor of "straw-made dogs" used in sacrifice: once the rite is over, heaven and earth discard them without partiality, just as they nourish the myriad things without favoritism.

The narrative concludes with the political and ethical implications of these ideas. The author examines Lao-tzŭ’s rejection of military force, capital punishment, and excessive taxation, contrasting his call for a return to a primitive, ignorant, and simple state with the more pragmatic governance of Confucianism. By comparing Lao-tzŭ to Western thinkers like Machiavelli, the author highlights the paradoxical nature of a philosophy that seeks to rule by "not ruling." The work ends by acknowledging that while Lao-tzŭ may appear to be a dreamer who advocated for a life of silence and inaction, his influence remains a vital, if difficult, component of the history of human thought, demanding a patient and thoughtful engagement that transcends mere scholarly classification.

How It Unfolds

The mythic foundations The inquiry opens by stripping away the supernatural layers—such as the miraculous eighty-one-year birth—that later Taoists applied to their founder. It establishes the necessity of separating the historical archivist from the deity invented to compete with Shâkyamuni.

The structure of the work The author explains the evolution of the Tao-tê Ching’s format, documenting how varying chapter counts reflect the editorial choices of different eras. This section highlights the role of commentators like Wu-Chʽêng, whose interpretations helped preserve the text for the Chinese literati.

The nature of the Tao The study moves into the metaphysical, defining the Tao not as a deity but as the primordial, formless source of existence. The author explains how this "spirit of the valley" operates through spontaneity and non-effort, setting the stage for the book's ethical framework.

The political vision The final beats examine the sage’s revolutionary approach to governance, which favors non-interference and the reduction of human artifice. The author contrasts these quietist, anti-authoritarian ideals with the more organized, civic-minded values of the Confucian tradition.

The People

Lao-tzŭ occupies the center of this inquiry, though he remains a spectral figure. He is presented not as a self-conscious legislator of a new religion, but as a reluctant sage who saw the complexity of the world as a corruption of natural simplicity. His primary obstacle is the human tendency toward artifice, learning, and the desire for power, all of which he seeks to undo through the return to the Tao.

Confucius serves as the essential foil. While the book acknowledges deep similarities in their ethical focus—both men advocate for humility and the avoidance of strife—Confucius is depicted as a social realist. Where Lao-tzŭ suggests that ignorance and silence are the keys to a virtuous state, Confucius insists on the necessity of intellectual development and social rites. The author portrays Confucius as a man who perhaps borrowed from the older sage but ultimately diverged by placing his faith in the structure of human institutions rather than the void of the Tao.

Commentators such as Ho-shang-kung and Wu-Chʽêng emerge as secondary, vital figures. They are the conduits through whom the philosophy survived. By attempting to map their own intellectual biases—whether Confucian or eclectic—onto the cryptic text, these men reveal as much about the human need to categorize the infinite as they do about the original teachings of the sage himself.

In Its Own Voice

Regarding the nature of the Tao, the author notes the difficulty of naming that which precedes language itself:

Tao, then, is something which existed before heaven and earth were, before Deity was, and which is, indeed, eternal.

In discussing the impartial and detached nature of the universe as Lao-tzŭ perceived it, the author quotes the sage’s chillingly egalitarian view of existence:

Heaven and earth, he says, have no partialities—they regard the “myriad things” as the straw-made dogs which were formed for the sacrifices and prayers for rain, and cast aside when the rites were finished.

What It's Really About

The book explores the tension between human artifice and the primordial simplicity of nature. It asks whether a civilization can thrive by abandoning the pursuit of wisdom, mechanical progress, and moral posturing. At its heart, the text is a study of "non-action" (Wu-wei) as a governing principle, investigating how a leader might influence the world by becoming a mirror of the Tao—an entity that produces and nourishes without claiming ownership or control. Ultimately, the book probes the limits of language and logic in capturing a reality that, by its very definition, defies being "named." It is a meditation on the necessity of silence in a world obsessed with loud, fine-sounding words.

Why Read It Today

This volume is for the patient reader who enjoys the detective work of intellectual history. It offers a window into how Western scholars in the late 19th century first grappled with the complexities of Chinese philosophy, often using Western literature and classical references to build bridges of understanding. You will encounter a tone that is earnest, methodical, and occasionally humble about its own limitations.

The text does not offer easy answers. Because it preserves the 19th-century academic style—complete with transliteration systems and references to now-obscure commentaries—it requires a degree of focus to navigate. However, the reward is a clear-eyed perspective on the Tao-tê Ching that avoids the New Age mysticism often found in modern popularizations. It feels like sitting in a quiet, book-lined study, listening to a scholar who respects the mystery of his subject while demanding rigorous historical evidence. What stays with you is the haunting, radical suggestion that our greatest efforts to improve the world may actually be the very things that pull us further from our true nature. If you appreciate a book that treats its subject as a living, breathing, and often infuriatingly elusive puzzle, this study will be a deeply rewarding companion.