《抱朴子外篇》Vol. 15

In the fifteenth chapter of Baopuzi's Outer Chapters, the importance of selecting capable individuals is discussed. Ge Hong (Baopuzi) uses vivid analogies to illustrate his point: The towering heights of Mount Hua and Mount Huo reach the clouds because they rest upon massive foundations; the great achievements of Emperors Yao and Shun were possible solely through the assistance of virtuous ministers. Just as the legendary horse expert Bole (Sun Yang) could not travel far without a thousand-mile steed, even the most discerning ruler cannot handle all state affairs alone—they must rely on officials to assist in governance and decision-making.

A truly wise ruler prioritizes the recruitment of talented individuals, personally seeking them out among the common people with gifts and honors. Though the selection process may be rigorous, the employment of such individuals should be smooth and unhindered. Only then can the state be well-governed, with punishments rendered unnecessary and moral teachings spreading widely, bringing peace to the realm. Establishing official positions is like building a house—if even one component is defective, the entire structure may collapse.

During the late Han Dynasty under Emperors Huan and Ling, imperial authority declined, corrupt ministers seized power, and social morality deteriorated. Upright individuals were suppressed while sycophants rose to prominence. People resorted to bribery to secure official posts, and family connections determined appointments. The standards for selecting officials became as unreliable as faulty scales and inaccurate measures, leading to widespread tyranny. When the court employed mediocrities who formed cliques for personal gain, yet still expected orderly governance, it was akin to hanging roof tiles as if they were luminous pearls or expecting beautiful music from an untuned zither. Therefore, rigorous evaluation is essential—eliminating the incompetent and promoting the truly capable.

In ancient times, when feudal lords recommended talents (gongshi) to the imperial court, proper recommendations were considered meritorious and rewarded with promotions and fiefdoms, while improper ones were deemed faults punishable by demotion or reduced territories. Yet even then, poets still satirized those in high positions who failed to fulfill their duties—as seen in the Book of Songs, where "Cutting Sandalwood" criticizes idle beneficiaries while "Rabbit Nets" praises the worthy. How much worse is it today, when recommenders face no consequences for poor selections and appointees never worry about "virtue (De) mismatching position"? Once standards are skewed, how easily can the damage be undone?

True talents are like precious gems awaiting fair valuation, while mediocrities climb swiftly through opportunism. It is precisely because the worthy adhere to principles that they struggle in obscurity, while the petty thrive by cunning. When owls gather, phoenixes hide; where jackals rule, qilins retreat. If virtuous leaders educate the people, the corrupt will naturally flee; if villains dominate, heroes will withdraw—the noble disdain mingling with the vulgar, the upright feel ashamed alongside the greedy. When appointments go awry, the worthy fall silent while the wicked recommend one another. With malevolent officials in power and petty men triumphant—like the monstrous Taowu roaming unchecked—society inevitably seethes with discontent.

The truly capable often maintain integrity and follow nature’s course, yet end up lagging behind schemers and bowing to the powerful. Those of extraordinary character stand firm like mountains and depths, unmoved and profound, understood by few while slandered by the fame-seeking mob. Thus, rulers who thirst for talent never find the truly worthy, while those with grand aspirations possess governance skills but no path to serve. Like ancient sages Ji and Xie, even with unparalleled abilities, they may fade into obscurity. Meanwhile, factions cluster like fish scales, and when offices lie vacant, how can the court avoid appointing such people hastily?

During the reigns of Emperors Ling and Xian of Han, eunuchs monopolized power, treacherous ministers ruled, and loyalists suffered. The central selection system decayed, while local recommendations grew reckless. Faulty appointments at the top led to incompetent local officials; perfunctory recommendations below produced "cultivated talents" and "filial exemplars" in name only.

There was a popular saying at the time: "The 'cultivated talents' selected don't study, and the 'filial and incorrupt' nominees live apart from their fathers. Those claiming purity are filthy as mud, while generals praised for virtue cower like chickens." Others observed: "Ancient men sought distinction through diligent study of classics, but modern men pursue office to escape honest labor." Such phenomena were truly lamentable.

Official ranks were openly traded like merchandise, displayed like goods in market stalls. Office-seekers competed to purchase them like customers in a bazaar. The wealthy obtained positions without merit, while the poor could only watch helplessly. Higher bids secured superior offices, smaller payments brought humbler posts. Thus the court accumulated wealth from selling offices, and officials like Cui Lie were mocked for reeking of copper coins. When superiors behaved thus, inferiors followed suit—a ruler's actions directly shaped his ministers' conduct.

Thus sycophants alone gained favor, while fellow villagers and relatives monopolized nominations. Recruitment offices became marketplaces where each position had its price tag. How could impoverished scholars ever rise? Evil and integrity cannot coexist, just as ice and hot coals share no vessel. Those who hated the upright feared public censure; those who climbed by crooked means dreaded ill repute. They conspired to slander virtuous men, burdening the principled with false accusations while none dared speak in their defense.

Consequently, sages like Zeng Shen and Min Ziqian were vilified, while Confucius and Mozi bore thieves' stigma. The principled languished in obscurity, while the cunning soared. Common folk, shortsighted and confused, mistook steadfastness for pedantry and deviousness for adaptability. As society drifted with the tide, who would devote themselves to moral cultivation or rigorous study? All abandoned earnest effort, competing instead to purchase office through bribery.

This was the root of the Han dynasty's collapse—a warning for posterity. Some argue: "Your critique of late Han selection practices hits the mark. But rectifying past errors to avoid repetition is like altering longstanding melodies, preventing legal distortions, restoring vulgar music to classical elegance, or curing deep-seated maladies—easier said than done." Many appear refined and reputable yet lack substance. Selecting by appearance guarantees no true talent; thorough evaluation risks missing timely appointments.

This dialogue discusses the selection of virtuous and capable officials. Baopuzi (Ge Hong's Daoist name) acknowledges the difficulty in truly assessing a person's moral character and abilities, yet proposes systematic methods for evaluation.

He offers concrete suggestions: When local officials select candidates, they must first eliminate personal biases and conflicts of interest. The evaluation process should be comprehensive and meticulous, including observing daily conduct for filial piety and fraternal love (孝友), verifying neighborhood recognition of their integrity (信义), and examining their record of incorruptibility and administrative competence in minor official posts. Just as examining a small piece of brocade reveals the weaver's skill, or observing the "porcupine test" (a traditional courage assessment) demonstrates bravery, major virtues can be discerned from minor details.

Regarding traditional selection methods like the Xiucai and Xiaolian examinations (秀孝), he recommends maintaining the testing system while strictly preventing fraud. Recommending officials should face penalties—even dismissal—for unqualified candidates; if most recommendations prove unsatisfactory, the official should be demoted. Those who recommend candidates in exchange for bribes should be permanently barred from office, with both parties receiving equal punishment. Implementing these measures for one or two years would improve selection quality and encourage scholars to cultivate moral character.

For corrupt officials, Baopuzi advocates severe punishment: Those guilty of corruption not warranting capital punishment should be permanently barred from office after serving their sentence or receiving amnesty, with lighter cases receiving twenty-year bans. He argues this would compel dishonest officials to become as upright as the ancient paragons Boyi and Shuqi. Conversely, if corrupt officials can quickly resume office after being caught, even virtuous men like Zeng Shen and Shi Yu might degenerate into bandits like the infamous Robber Zhi.

When challenged that examination excellence doesn't guarantee practical governance skills, Baopuzi counters: Ancient times used archery tests for selection—modern classical examinations are already reasonable. Just as fertile soil yields good crops and large fish require deep waters, fundamental qualities form the basis of achievement. If candidates cannot master classical learning, how can they be expected to possess other talents?

This passage primarily discusses the importance of talent selection and moral cultivation. The text observes that truly capable individuals (such as Jizi, Fansheng, and Guan Zhong) demonstrate their statecraft abilities through their writings. The author advocates for a rigorous selection system: candidates recommended for filial piety and integrity must master the classics, while outstanding scholars must excel in policy responses (answering governance questions), ensuring no talent goes unrecognized. Just as selecting skilled generals requires evaluating both courage and strategic thinking, literary scholars should also undergo stringent assessments.

The author argues that a rigorous tribute and recommendation system would motivate scholars nationwide to study diligently and improve social customs. If people abandon opportunism and return to scholarly fundamentals, Confucian orthodoxy would flourish, exceptional talents would be employed, and official positions would no longer remain vacant. Addressing concerns that such strict standards might be overly harsh, the author counters with analogies: one cannot play the lute or recite poetry when facing tigers and wolves, nor perform ceremonial bows when a house is ablaze—a decaying era demands severe measures. Debating systems with those seeking to cheat is as absurd as discussing thief-catching with burglars.

The conclusion emphasizes the need for unified governance in a consolidated empire. Just as weights and measures require standardization, talent selection cannot tolerate inconsistency. Though the Jiangnan region may be remote, it has been steeped in Confucian rites for over a millennium. Even if briefly isolated for less than a century, its scholarly traditions remain unbroken. The author advocates implementing uniform selection criteria nationwide.

This passage examines how talent selection systems shape scholarly trends. Ge Hong (Baopuzi) observes that the prolonged absence of imperial examinations in southeastern regions led to the decline of Confucian education there. He likens the examination system to selling ceremonial hats to barbarians or trading snake skins in the Central Plains—though seemingly incongruous, examinations remain crucial for motivating students to study.

The text notes that contemporary selection processes no longer emphasize actual examinations, causing people to chase empty reputations rather than engage in serious study. While exceptional scholars like Fa Gaoqing and Zhou Shenglie pursued learning out of innate passion, most study merely for official advancement. Historical figures such as Ning Yue, Ni Kuan, and Huang Ba devoted themselves to the classics solely to alter their destinies through scholarly achievement. Were it not for Emperor Wu of Han's promotion of Confucianism, even renowned ministers like Zhu Maichen and Yan Zhu might never have pursued learning.

Ge Hong laments that during wartime, warriors gain prominence while scholars are marginalized—commoners treat Confucians as servants and classical texts as trash. He contends that standardized national examinations with clear evaluation criteria would immediately transform academic culture, making people travel great distances with book-filled trunks and spend gift money on texts instead.

The passage concludes with poignant criticism: even candidates capable of passing the "Xiucai" (Outstanding Scholar) or "Xiaolian" (Filial and Incorrupt) examinations have become rare. Were we to encounter another era like Emperor Huan or Ling of Eastern Han who sold official posts, yet conducted fair examinations without demanding bribes, few would demonstrate mastery of the classics.

This passage presents Ge Hong (Baopuzi)'s critique of the imperial examination system and official selection procedures during his time, along with his proposed reforms. He identified serious flaws in the current system and advocated for stricter evaluation mechanisms.

Regarding civil examinations, he proposed that candidates should be given ample preparation time for policy essay topics, with the actual question being assigned on-site during the test. All examinees should be gathered in one location under direct supervision by high-ranking officials, with strict prohibitions against private communication and severe penalties for violators. Only through such measures could backdoor appointments be eliminated. A wise ruler, he argued, should rely on rigorous systems to prevent corruption rather than expecting voluntary compliance with rules.

Concerning official appointments, Ge Hong observed that many officials at all levels lacked legal knowledge, resulting in chaotic judicial proceedings. Some petty clerks—stubborn and uneducated—wielded life-and-death power over commoners. Some magistrates ignorant of law were deceived by subordinates, while others rendered verdicts based on personal whims, leading to numerous wrongful convictions.

His recommendation was to establish legal examinations modeled after the Classics examinations (Shijing), selecting only those proficient in jurisprudence for official posts. All virtuous and capable officials should pass legal examinations before appointment, with positions assigned according to examination results. This approach would reduce corrupt officials and miscarriages of justice.

(Note: "Classics examinations" [Shijing] refers to the major testing category for talent selection at that time, primarily assessing Confucian classics; the "Four Categories" [Sike] were the four examination subjects used in Han Dynasty recruitment; "Central Ministries" [Taisheng] denotes high-level central government offices.)