Laozi
小國寡民。使有什伯之器而不用； 使民重死而不遠徙。 雖有舟輿，無所乘之， 雖有甲兵，無所陳之。 使民復結繩而用之， 甘其食，美其服，安其居，樂其俗。 鄰國相望，雞犬之聲相聞， 民至老死，不相往來。
James Legge
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).
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.
I would make the people return to the use of knotted cords (instead of the 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.
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.
Victor H. Mair
Let there be a small state with few people, where military devices find no use; Let the people look solemnly upon death, and banish the thought of moving elsewhere. They may have carts and boats, but there is no reason to ride them; They may have armor and weapons, but they have no reason to display them. Let the people go back to tying knots to keep records. Let their food be savory, their clothes beautiful, their customs pleasurable, their dwellings secure. Though they may gaze across at a neighboring state, and hear the sounds of its dogs and chickens, The people will never travel back and forth, till they die of old age.
C. Spurgeon Medhurst
A state may be small, and the population sparse, yet the people should be taught not to rely on force; they should be made to comprehend the gravity of death, and the futility of emigration. Then, though they had boats and carts, they would have no use for them; though they had armor and weapons they would not display them. They should be taught to return to the use of the quippo; to be content with their food, their clothing, their dwellings, and to be happy in their traditions. Though neighboring states were within sight, and the people should hear the barking of their dogs and the crowing of their cocks, they would grow old and die without visiting them. [^1]
Better be a hermit, minus the comforts of civilization, than a millionaire chained to many earthly possessions. Montaigne nobly says, “Let us betimes bid our company farewell … We should reserve a storehouse for ourselves, and wholly free, wherein we may hoard up and establish our true liberty and principal retreat and solitariness.” “Jesus said unto Him, If thou wouldst be perfect, go sell that thou hast, and give to the poor, and thou shalt have treasure in heaven; and come follow me.” “A man’s life consisteth not in the abundance of things which he possesseth.”
[^1] Su-cheh sums up the chapter in a sentence—“If the inner brings satisfaction, the outer will have no attractions.”
A native paper laments the degeneracy of present times in the following language: “In ancient times men lived in caves and holes of the earth. They wore leaves for clothing. They used earthenware of the rudest description, their carts had no tires, to record events they simply knotted a cord. In ancient times sovereign and people all sat on mats on the floor. In ancient times the sovereign invited some one to take his place while he retired. The feudal system prevailed. Now every one of these customs is obsolete, and we all know what we have at the present day.”—Su Pao.
The Sri Bhagavat says: “While there is the bare ground, why labor for beds? While there is your own arm, why labor for a pillow? While the palms of your hands may be joined, why trouble yourself for dishes and platters? While there are barks on trees, why labor for raiment?’—Dialogues on The Hindu Philosophy by Rev. K. M. Banerjea, p. 24.
Ursula K. Le Guin
Let there be a little country without many people. Let them have tools that do the work of ten or a hundred, and never use them. Let them be mindful of death and disinclined to long journeys. They’d have ships and carriages, but no place to go. They’d have armor and weapons, but no parades. Instead of writing, they might go back to using knotted cords. They’d enjoy eating, take pleasure in clothes, be happy with their houses, devoted to their customs.
The next little country might be so close the people could hear cocks crowing and dogs barking there, but they’d get old and die without ever having been there.
Note UKLG: Waley says this endearing and enduring vision “can be understood in the past, present, or future tense, as the reader desires.” This is always true of the vision of the golden age, the humane society. Christian or Cartesian dualism, the division of spirit or mind from the material body and world, existed long before Christianity or Descartes and was never limited to Western thought (though it is the “craziness” or “sickness” that many people under Western domination see in Western civilization). Lao Tzu thinks the materialistic dualist, who tries to ignore the body and live in the head, and the religious dualist, who despises the body and lives for a reward in heaven, are both dangerous and in danger. So, enjoy your life, he says; live in your body, you are your body; where else is there to go? Heaven and earth are one. As you walk the streets of your town you walk on the Way of heaven.