医病易，着书难；着书易，着书而有益于天下后世难。先君着《类证治裁》，以数十年之精力，
搜罗历代，综览百家，采择精英，折中至当，中而不偏，简而能备，层层推勘，缕析丝分，广大精微，靡不包
囿，实足扩前圣不传之绪，启后人入道之门，而大有益于天下后世者也。彼医籍中或失之凉泻，或失之温补，
或失之疏漏，或失之浩繁者，相去天渊，乌可同日语耶。咸丰元年，付之剞劂，八月告成，六年兵祸，版毁
于火，迄今二十余年矣。先君之著作文章，其可流传于后世，垂法于将来者甚多，竟以风霜兵燹，散轶无存。
而是书早付手民，遂若神灵呵护，贻留至今，卒得善本，可以重锓。恿怂是举者，谓前日之开雕，其力可以至
今，今此之重锓，其力之贻留，不卜而知更远，此非独是书之幸，抑亦天下后世之幸也。重锓之举，又乌可
缓哉。
光绪十年中秋前芝本谨跋
治病容易，著书困难；著书容易，但写出对天下后世有益的书却很难。先父撰写《类证治裁》，耗费了数十年的精力，搜集整理历代医籍，综览各家学说，选取其中的精华，权衡取舍以达到最恰当的程度，中正而不偏颇，简练而内容完备，层层推究考证，如抽丝剥茧般细致分析，内容广博且精微，无所不包，确实足以发扬前代圣贤未流传下来的学术脉络，开启后人进入医学殿堂的门径，从而对天下后世大有裨益。那些医书中有的失之于过用寒凉泻下，有的失之于过用温补，有的失之于疏漏，有的失之于浩繁冗杂的，与本书相比相差如天地之远，怎么可以相提并论呢？咸丰元年（1851年），将书稿交付刻印，八月完成刊刻。六年（1856年）遭遇兵祸，书版毁于战火，至今已经二十多年了。先父的著作文章，本可流传后世、成为后世法度的有很多，竟然因为战乱火灾而散失无存。而这本书早已交付工匠刊印，于是仿佛有神灵呵护，保留至今，最终得以获得善本，可以重新刻印。怂恿进行这项举措的人说，前次开雕，其影响力可以延续至今；此次重新刻印，其影响力的留存，不用占卜也知道会更加久远，这不仅是这本书的幸运，也是天下后世的幸运啊。重新刻印这件事，又怎么可以拖延呢？
光绪十年（1884年）中秋节前，芝本恭敬地写下这篇跋文。
Treating diseases is easy, but writing books is difficult; writing books is easy, but writing a book that benefits the world and future generations is difficult. My late father composed *Leizheng Zhicai* (Classification of Symptoms and Treatment Guidelines), dedicating decades of effort to it. He collected and collated medical texts from past dynasties, surveyed various schools of thought, selected their essences, and struck a balance to achieve the most appropriate standards—centered yet unbiased, concise yet comprehensive. Through rigorous deduction and meticulous analysis, its scope was broad and profound, encompassing everything. It truly served to expand upon the untransmitted legacy of former sages and open the door for later generations to enter the path of medicine, thereby greatly benefiting the world and future ages. In contrast, other medical texts may err in being too cooling and purgative, or too warming and tonifying; some are deficient due to omissions, while others are excessive due to verbosity. The difference between them and this work is as vast as heaven and earth; how can they be mentioned in the same breath? In the first year of Xianfeng (1851), the manuscript was submitted to the printers, and the project was completed in August. However, in the sixth year (1856), war broke out, and the printing blocks were destroyed by fire. More than twenty years have passed since then. Although my late father had many other writings and articles that could have been transmitted to posterity and served as models for the future, they were unfortunately scattered and lost due to wind, frost, war, and conflagration. This book, however, having been handed over to the craftsmen early on, seemed to be protected by divine spirits, preserved until today, and ultimately obtained in a fine version suitable for re-engraving. Those who encouraged this endeavor argued that if the initial engraving allowed its influence to reach us today, the re-engraving will surely ensure its preservation and impact extend even further into the future, which is not only the fortune of this book but also of the world and future generations. How then can we delay such a re-engraving?
Respectfully inscribed by Zhiben before the Mid-Autumn Festival in the tenth year of Guangxu (1884).