《韓非子》Vol. 14

Chapter 35 of "Outer Congeries of Sayings: Lower Right" in Han Feizi's Volume 14 discusses how rulers should wield rewards and punishments to govern the state, using historical anecdotes to illustrate the dangers of divided authority.

The first section emphasizes that the power of rewards and punishments must remain exclusively with the sovereign. When Zaofu (the legendary charioteer) and Yuqi drove together, they couldn't even control thirsty horses; Zihan (a Song official) usurped authority by punishing commoners, ultimately assassinating his ruler; Tian Heng (a Qi minister) bought public favor with private gardens, then murdered Duke Jian of Qi. These cases resemble having Wang Liang and Zaofu drive the same chariot, or Tian Lian and Chengqiao play the same zither—inevitable chaos ensues. Shared authority over rewards and punishments between ruler and ministers leads to state collapse.

The second section reveals the governing principle: strong states arise from rule by law, while decline stems from favoritism. Understanding this, rulers should enforce strict rewards/punishments rather than indiscriminate benevolence—bestowing ranks only on the meritorious, punishing only the guilty. Ministers understanding this should devote themselves wholly to service. King Zhaoxiang of Qin grasped the ruler's essence (needing no deliberate populism), fining commoners who prayed for his recovery during illness; he refused to open royal gardens to relieve famine, considering it unearned reward. Tian Wei taught his son Tian Zhang that "enriching the state naturally benefits oneself," while Gongyi Xiu (Lu prime minister) refused gifted fish—both demonstrating ministers should follow law, not seek personal loyalty.

The final section stresses enlightened rulers must learn from external examples. Su Dai criticized the King of Qi for not fully empowering Zizhi, preventing Yan's rise to hegemony, showing rulers need others' lessons to succeed. The core message: sovereigns must monopolize reward/punishment authority, strictly enforce laws, and consolidate rule through historical lessons.

This passage from Han Feizi primarily discusses the principles of state governance and how rulers should manage their ministers.

The text begins by noting how ancient rulers were often deceived. For instance, King Yan of Yan, swayed by Pan Shou’s words, believed that Yu the Great had passed the throne to Yi merely to please his son, which ultimately allowed Qi to seize power. This illustrates how rulers frequently fail to discern their ministers’ true intentions. Just as people avoid sharing a carriage with someone wearing identical clothes or living among close relatives—fearing control—how much more dangerous is it to entrust ministerial authority to subordinates?

Wu Zhang understood this principle well and thus tested rulers with deceptive words. When the King of Zhao despised the fierce eyes of tigers, someone remarked that Lord Pingyang’s gaze was even more terrifying—prompting the king to execute the speaker. Similarly, the Zhou dynasty’s envoys refused an audience with the Marquis of Wei because his name, "Pi Jiang," conflicted with the Son of Heaven’s title, demanding he change it before being received.

Han Feizi argues that enlightened rulers should govern officials through laws rather than directly managing the people. Just as shaking the roots of a tree moves the entire tree, or pulling the main cord of a fishing net opens all its meshes, well-governed officials naturally lead to a well-governed state. For example, during a fire, a minor official carrying a water jug can only fight the flames alone, but wielding a whip to command can mobilize thousands.

Statecraft requires mastering the right methods, much like Zaofu taming a startled horse: merely pulling or pushing the carriage achieves nothing, but taking the reins and whip from the driver sets the horse running. Similarly, a hammer flattens uneven surfaces, and a straightening tool corrects warped wood. Wrong methods, however, lead to disasters like how Zhao Chi murdered King Min of Qi or how Li Dui starved King Wuling of Zhao to death.

Finally, the text emphasizes acting in accordance with natural principles. Zi Zheng, singing while seated on the carriage shaft, made the uphill climb effortless. Yet, when Lord Jian of Zhao allowed tax collectors to arbitrarily set burdens, calamity followed. This demonstrates that governance must adhere to objective laws—not whims.

This passage employs vivid analogies to illustrate the principle that a ruler's authority must never be divided.

Han Feizi uses the story of Zaofu (an ancient legendary charioteer) handling horses: even a master like Zaofu would lose control if the horses were startled by external disturbances (the phrase "出□" refers to something frightening to the horses). This mirrors how a ruler, if he allows ministers to share power, will lose his grip on governance. Similarly, when Prince Yuqi drove a chariot, though he could manage the horses without reins, they would still fail if distracted while passing a garden pond.

The text then presents the analogy of two master charioteers, Wang Liang and Zaofu, jointly driving a chariot: even with each holding one side of the reins, the horses couldn’t go ten miles. Another analogy involves two skilled musicians, Tian Lian and Cheng Qiao, attempting to play the same qin (zither) together—no matter how talented, they could never produce a coherent melody. Both examples demonstrate that governing power must remain concentrated in the hands of the ruler alone and cannot be shared with ministers.

The passage also recounts the cautionary tale of Boyi’s advice: when a ruler fails to set clear tax policies, merely saying "not too light, not too heavy," officials will exploit the ambiguity, leading to an empty treasury while corrupt officials grow rich. Similarly, when Duke Huan of Qi inspected his state, Guan Zhong observed that while corrupt wealth accumulated, neglected palace women languished—a sign of misallocated resources.

These analogies all emphasize the same point: a ruler must monopolize authority, establish clear systems and standards, and leave no room for ministers to seize power. Otherwise, governance will collapse into chaos—just like a chariot driven by two or a qin played by two hands.

This passage illustrates the dynamics of power through several allegorical stories.

The first story concerns horse training: It takes a hundred days to train horses to endure thirst. Yet when thirsty horses see water, they'll break free from their harnesses to drink, causing chariot accidents. When Royal Charioteer Yuqi drove for Lord Jian of Zhao, the horses panicked upon suddenly spotting a ditch, overturning the carriage.

The second story depicts Song state politics: Minister Zihan advised the Song ruler to handle rewards while taking punishment duties upon himself. Within a year, Zihan gained popular support by controlling judicial power, ultimately assassinating the ruler. This demonstrates how punitive authority outweighs the power to bestow favors.

The third narrative involves Qi state governance: Duke Jian of Qi ruled through harsh punishments and heavy taxes, while Tian Chengheng won hearts through benevolent policies. Like thirsty horses bolting toward water, oppressed masses naturally gravitate toward compassionate rulers.

The fourth analogy reinforces this: Even horses trained by legendary charioteer Zaofu to endure thirst for months would still lose control at the sight of water. Similarly, while Duke Jian suppressed people with strict laws, Tian Chengheng lured them with benefits—as dangerous as showing water to parched steeds.

Two additional chariot mishaps conclude the lesson: Prince Yuqi's horses panicked when a boar suddenly emerged from a hole, and Zihan's judicial power grab is reiterated. These cases collectively reveal how excessive control inevitably backfires, while apparent benevolence may conceal usurping ambitions.

This passage recounts two stories about the relationship between rulers and their subjects.

The first story concerns Zihan, a minister of the Song state. Zihan established his authority by executing commoners and punishing officials. Within a year, the people came to understand that he held power over life and death, and the entire state submitted to him. In effect, he hijacked the Song ruler's authority and seized governance power, becoming beyond the reach of laws. The author uses two metaphors: if master charioteers Wang Liang and Zao Fu were to each hold one side of the reins, the chariot would inevitably overturn; if musicians Tian Lian and Cheng Qiao were to each play one string of the same instrument, the music would become discordant. This illustrates that power cannot be divided.

The second story describes how, when King Zhao of Qin (some say King Xiang of Qin) fell ill, the people spontaneously bought oxen to pray for his recovery. Gongsun Shu noticed this and congratulated the king. After verifying the report, the king remarked: "Unauthorized prayers may seem like devotion, but they would compel me to alter laws to please the people. This would undermine legal authority and lead the state to ruin." He consequently fined the people two sets of armor. Later, when the king recovered, villagers slaughtered oxen to fulfill their vows. Officials Yan E and Gongsun Yan considered this greater devotion than what even Yao and Shun received. Yet the king punished the village heads (lizheng) and elders (wulao) instead. Months later, the officials explained their earlier praise wasn't flattery—even Yao and Shun never received such prayers during illness—while the king had punished those organizing the rituals. This demonstrates the king prioritized maintaining rule of law over cultivating personal worship.

(Note: "Fining two sets of armor" refers to confiscating two suits of armor; "lizheng" were grassroots officials, "wulao" were village elders; "fulfillment sacrifices" means votive offerings)

This passage contains several stories about state governance and personal conduct, which I'll analyze one by one:

The first segment discusses the relationship between rulers and commoners. A minister finds it puzzling, but the ruler explains: The people obey me not because I love them, but because I hold power. If I abandon authority to please them, they'll cease to serve me. Thus, the Dao of governance lies not in showing kindness.

The second story concerns King Zhaoxiang of Qin during a famine. His minister suggests opening royal gardens for starving people to gather food, but the king refuses, believing this would reward both deserving and undeserving subjects alike, violating the legal principle that "merit deserves reward, crimes deserve punishment." He declares it better to let people starve than undermine legal order, for chaos is more terrible than death.

The third episode shows Tian Wei educating his son Tian Zhang: To gain personal benefit, first benefit the ruler; to enrich your household, first enrich the state. Another version states: Rulers exchange official positions for subjects' talents, so one must rely on oneself rather than others.

The fourth story recounts how Gongyi Xiu, prime minister of Lu who loved fish, refused gifted fish. He explains: Accepting fish would make me beholden to donors, potentially leading to favoritism and losing my position. Better to buy fish with my salary, ensuring I can enjoy them long-term. This illustrates self-reliance surpassing dependence on others.

The final segment presents Su Dai's evaluation of the King of Qi. When King of Yan asks about Qi's ruler after Su's diplomatic mission, Su replies: He'll never achieve hegemony. True hegemons like Duke Huan of Qi knew to entrust domestic affairs to Bao Shuya and diplomacy to Guan Zhong. The implication is Qi's king lacks discernment in employing talent.

These stories collectively embody Legalist core principles - valuing authority (zhongshi), esteeming law (shangfa), and self-reliance (zishi) - emphasizing the importance of power, strict legalism, and the necessity of depending on oneself.

This passage recounts a political conspiracy in the Yan state during the Spring and Autumn and Warring States periods. The story begins with Duke Huan of Qi, who honored Guan Zhong as "Zhongfu" (a reverential title meaning "second only to one's father"), entrusting him with all internal and external affairs, thereby making Qi powerful and establishing its hegemony.

Su Dai (a strategist of the Vertical and Horizontal Alliance) deliberately praised the King of Qi as virtuous in front of the King of Yan, but in reality, it was a trap. He claimed that while the King of Qi appointed his confidants, he did not distribute power fairly, predicting Qi's eventual downfall. Upon hearing this, the King of Yan the very next day held a grand court session and handed all state affairs over to Zizhi (a powerful Yan minister).

Pan Shou (a scheming advisor) further manipulated the King of Yan, suggesting he emulate the legendary Emperor Yao's abdication to Xu You by ostensibly yielding the state to Zizhi. He argued this would earn the king a reputation for yielding to worthiness without actually losing power. Yet Pan Shou secretly warned the king, reminding him of the historical lesson when Great Yu passed the throne to Yi, only for Qi (Yu's son) and his faction to attack and kill Yi.

Ultimately, the King of Yan fell into the trap, collecting the official seals of all officials above 300 dan rank and handing them to Zizhi, granting him excessive power. This passage exposes the chaotic political climate among the feudal states, where scholars formed cliques for personal gain and gradually usurped the ruler's authority. A ruler should discern truth from falsehood by examining scholars from various states, but now these scholars were all members of powerful ministers' factions, leaving the ruler without means to distinguish loyalty from treachery.

This passage originates from Han Feizi, presenting several allegorical tales concerning power struggles and the relationship between rulers and ministers.

The first story recounts how the King of Yan wished to bequeath his throne to his minister Zi Zhi. The strategist Pan Shou dissuaded him by citing the historical precedent of Yu the Great nominally passing power to Yi while actually ensuring his son Qi retained control. Taking this advice, the Yan king reclaimed the royal seal and granted Zi Zhi real authority.

The second narrative quotes Fang Wuzi's observation about ancient rites prohibiting sharing carriages with clan members, let alone a ruler casually delegating authority. Wu Zhang similarly cautioned King Xuan of Han that a sovereign must never feign affection or disdain toward ministers, lest sycophants exploit such pretense to slander others.

The third parable describes the King of Zhao encountering a tiger's ferocious gaze during a garden excursion. When an attendant remarked that Minister Pingyang Jun's eyes appeared even more terrifying, the minister later executed the outspoken servant—an act the fearful Zhao king dared not challenge.

The final anecdote tells of the ruler of Wei addressing himself as "Pijiang" (Expander of Territories) during an audience with the Zhou Son of Heaven. Zhou officials rejected this title, as feudal lords were forbidden to assume designations reserved for the celestial sovereign.

Collectively, these stories illustrate core Legalist principles: rulers must maintain absolute control without concession, discern truth beyond appearances, and uphold hierarchical order without transgression. Through these examples, Han Feizi articulates his philosophy emphasizing centralized monarchical authority.

[Note: While this passage discusses political philosophy rather than Daoist content, I've maintained the requested academic yet accessible tone. For actual Daoist texts, I would incorporate the specialized glossary terms as demonstrated in the sample translation structure.]

When the ruler of Wei changed his title from "Lord of the Territory" to a regular feudal lord, Confucius remarked: "How profound is the principle that forbids lending empty titles! If even nominal distinctions shouldn't be lightly given, how much more so for actual power?" The title "Lord of the Territory" couldn't truly guarantee national strength—hence it was merely an empty designation.

When shaking a tree, pulling leaves one by one is laborious yet fails to move the whole tree; shaking the trunk makes all leaves tremble. Shaking a tree by a deep pool startles birds into flight and frightens fish into the depths. Skilled fishermen know to pull the main net rope—tugging individual meshes is exhausting and ineffective, while drawing the main rope gathers all fish naturally. Officials are the root and guiding principle of the people, thus sages govern the officials rather than managing the populace directly.

During firefighting, if an official personally carries water buckets, only one person's effort is utilized; wielding a whip to direct others mobilizes thousands. Therefore, sages don't handle trivial matters personally, and enlightened rulers don't micromanage. When the legendary charioteer Zaofu was hoeing fields, a father-son pair drove by with startled, immobile horses. The son dismounted to pull the horses while the father asked Zaofu to help push. Zaofu set aside his tools, boarded their carriage, took the reins and whip—before even using them, the horses calmed. Had Zaofu lacked charioteering skill, even his full strength pushing wouldn't have moved the horses. His effortless control while assisting others came from mastering the art. A state is the ruler's chariot; authority, his horses. Without governance skills, exhausting toil still brings chaos; with them, imperial achievements come with ease.

Hammers straighten protrusions; bending tools rectify warped wood. Sages establish laws to correct what's uneven and unaligned. When Nao Chi held power in Qi, he had King Min's tendons extracted; when Li Dui dominated Zhao, he starved King Wuling to death. These two rulers failed to properly wield the "hammer and straightening tools" of law, thus dying in disgrace with ruined states that became laughingstocks.

This passage from Han Feizi illustrates principles of state governance through several historical anecdotes.

The first story recounts how Tian Ying, Prime Minister of Qi, employed a stratagem to make the King personally handle financial affairs. Tian deliberately had officials prepare excessively detailed accounts for royal review. The King couldn't finish reviewing them from dawn till dusk and eventually fell asleep exhausted, allowing officials to secretly alter the records. This demonstrates how rulers ignorant of administrative methods can be deceived by ministers.

The second tale describes how King Wuling of Zhao let his son King Huiwen govern with Li Dui as chancellor. By not personally retaining authority over life-and-death decisions, Wuling became controlled by Li Dui instead. This underscores the necessity for rulers to maintain direct control of power.

The third anecdote uses a cart metaphor: When Zi Zhengzi couldn't pull a cart alone, he sat atop singing until those ahead paused and those behind caught up, moving the cart forward. This illustrates how leaders must master the art of employing people.

The fourth episode shows Zhao Jianzhu implementing taxation, demanding neither excessive nor insufficient levies. Over-taxation benefits the state while under-taxation favors the people; only balanced taxation prevents official corruption.

In the fifth story, Boyu tells Zhao Jianzhu: "Your nation's middle stratum prospers." Though initially pleased, Jianzhu learns this actually means: "The treasury stands empty, the people suffer poverty, while only corrupt officials grow rich"—a biting critique of bureaucratic graft.

The final account describes Duke Huan of Qi discovering during incognito travels an elderly man supporting himself because his three sons were too poor to marry. Guan Zhong observes: "While state warehouses overflow, the people starve; while palace maidens remain unwed, commoners cannot find wives"—revealing problems of resource maldistribution.

Collectively, these stories emphasize that rulers must master statecraft, govern personally, and maintain vigilant oversight to prevent ministerial usurpation and corruption, thereby ensuring proper state administration.

Duke Huan of Qi found this suggestion excellent and thus ordered all unattended women in the palace to be married off. He decreed that men must marry by age twenty and women by fifteen. Once, during an incognito visit among the people, the Duke encountered an elderly man named Lumen Ji who, at seventy, still had no wife. He asked Guan Zhong, "Are there others in the state who remain unmarried at such an advanced age?" Guan Zhong replied, "Lumen Ji is one—seventy years old without a wife." The Duke asked, "How can we ensure such men find spouses?" Guan Zhong said, "I have heard that when rulers hoard wealth, the people suffer poverty; when the palace harbors unwed women, the common folk will have elderly bachelors." The Duke said, "Well put." He then ordered all unattended palace women to be married out and mandated marriage by twenty for men and fifteen for women. Thus, no resentful women remained in the palace, and no unwed men lingered among the populace.

Yanling Zhuozhi drove a splendid blue steed adorned with lavish trappings—its head fitted with metal hooks (to restrain forward movement) and its tail armed with sharp spikes (to prevent retreat). The horse, wishing to advance, was held back by the hooks; attempting to retreat, it was pricked by the spikes. In desperation, it could only bolt sideways. Zaofu, a master charioteer, witnessed this and wept bitterly, saying, "This is how the ancients governed the people. Rewards, meant to encourage, were tainted with censure; punishments, meant to deter, were mixed with praise. The people, bewildered, knew not how to act—this is why the sages wept."

Another account states: Yanling Zhuozhi drove a blue-maned horse painted with intricate patterns, its head restrained by hooks and its tail threatened by spikes. When the horse sought to advance, it was pulled back; when it tried to retreat, it was whipped. Trapped between these opposing forces, it eventually panicked and bolted wildly. Yanling Zhuozhi dismounted and hacked off the horse’s legs. Zaofu, seeing this, wept all day without eating and sighed to the heavens: "The whip is meant to urge the horse forward, yet hooks block its path; the reins are meant to check its retreat, yet spikes menace from behind. Today, rulers promote men for their integrity, then demote them for failing to conform; they praise men for their fairness, then dismiss them for refusing blind obedience. The people stand frozen in terror, uncertain how to act—this is why the sages weep."