《抱朴子外篇》Vol. 6

The sixth chapter of Baopuzi's Outer Chapters discusses the proper relationship between rulers and ministers. Ge Hong (Baopuzi) uses stories from the era of ancient sage-kings to illustrate his points:

Even enlightened rulers like Yao and Shun, though possessing lofty virtue (De), still required the assistance of wise ministers to achieve great deeds. The relationship between ruler and minister is like that of the head and limbs—though there is a distinction in rank, they are mutually dependent. A ruler should appoint officials based on their abilities, avoiding misplacement, while ministers should accept positions according to their own capacity, thus preventing the calamity of exile.

Ministers who merely echo their ruler’s words are like useless ornaments occupying office, while those who dare to offer forthright counsel are the true pillars of the state. Flatterers are treacherous sycophants, whereas those who correct their ruler’s mistakes are loyal servants of the realm. A truly loyal minister should be willing to risk death in remonstrance; if his advice is not heeded, he should await dismissal. If death would only aggravate the ruler’s faults rather than benefit the state, he should resign of his own accord.

The way of a minister lies in these principles: in action, he must follow established laws; in stillness, he must abide by regulations. He must reject bribes and personal entreaties, enforcing the law without favoritism. Rewards and punishments should be just, never allowing private interests to override public duty. He must not abuse authority for personal gain, nor appear outwardly virtuous while inwardly corrupt. He should constantly think of offering counsel and, after leaving court, never forget to recommend worthy talents. Diligent and cautious as if treading on thin ice, he should promote others without seeking recognition and remain unmoved by ill-gotten wealth.

In court, an official should be as upright as an arrow; at home, he should cultivate purity like a lamb. In times of crisis, he should sacrifice himself without hesitation, and when wielding power, he must be impartial and selfless. He should emulate Xiao He’s talent for governance, Zhang Liang and Chen Ping’s ingenious strategies, Zhou Chang’s fearless admonitions, and Bao Xuan and Bao Yong’s unyielding integrity. He should be as frugal as Yan Ying and Ji An, and as steadfast as those who embody tranquility and resilience.

Rather than suffer the fate of Han Xin, who invited disaster by betraying loyalty, he should willingly accept the consequences of Bi Gan’s disembowelment or Wu Zixu’s forced suicide. When serving in distant posts, he should toil without complaint; when returning to court, he should not boast of achievements but attribute success to the ruler while taking responsibility for failures. He should yield to subordinates and maintain constant reverence, as if Heaven were always watching over him.

This passage discusses the virtues and principles that should guide those who serve as ministers (officials) in governance.

First, it outlines the standards for an exemplary minister: in administering state affairs, one should emulate role models like Yi Yin and the Duke of Zhou; in serving the nation, follow the example of virtuous ministers like the Duke of Shao; in attending to the ruler, devote absolute loyalty; in punishing wrongdoers, strike as decisively as a falcon hunting prey; in defending borders, cultivate military prowess like Wei Jiang and Li Mu; in governing the people, pursue benevolent administration like Wen Weng and Xin Chen. Truly loyal ministers never use cunning to deceive their ruler, and those who uphold righteousness would not fear extermination of their clan—let alone mere demotion or humiliation.

It further states that ministers should feel ashamed of their stipends if their achievements are meager, and humbled by high positions if their governance lacks distinction. One must keep faith, follow heavenly principles, and maintain humility to attain a good end. Those who damage the ruler's interests to curry favor with subordinates, neglect public duty for private gain, flatter superiors, use sweet words to blind the ruler, block the path of worthy men, or form factions—even if eloquent as Zhao Gao or domineering as Dong Zhuo—will ultimately meet violent ends. Such calamities are not heaven-sent but self-inflicted.

Finally, analogies illustrate a minister's proper role: like a person's hands and feet that cannot refuse toil, or like the earth that yields springs when dug and crops when tilled—bearing both the living and the dead. True ministers should achieve much without seeking reward, enduring hardship without complaint. The text also emphasizes defining one's scope of responsibility clearly, noting that not everyone can shoulder burdens like ancient strongmen Meng Ben and Xia Yu—exceeding one's capacity only invites failure.

(Note: The historical figures mentioned—Yi Yin, Duke of Zhou, Duke of Shao, Wei Jiang, Li Mu, Wen Weng, Xin Chen, Zhao Gao, Dong Zhuo, Meng Ben, and Xia Yu—are exemplars of governance, military prowess, or virtue, or serve as cautionary反面典型.)

This passage discusses the importance of acting within one's capabilities when holding official positions, warning against the dangers of coveting power beyond one's means. Several historical anecdotes illustrate this principle:

The Marquis of Han (a Warring States period ruler) incurred punishment by overstepping his authority, while Ziyuan (likely referring to a Spring and Autumn period noble) brought disaster upon himself by assuming responsibilities beyond his competence. Those truly qualified for high office must possess both civil and martial virtues—the wisdom for profound strategizing and the ability to command operations. Such individuals can handle heavy workloads with ease and manage dual pressures simultaneously.

But if one lacks such qualifications, honest self-assessment becomes crucial. Just as forcing an inferior horse to pull an overloaded cart almost guarantees disaster, ordinary people who chase glory without considering consequences bring ruin upon themselves—dragging down their rulers and families in the process. Isn't this tragic? People instinctively avoid blunt axes yet fail to decline official positions beyond their capabilities.

The text concludes with cautionary tales: Chen Ping and Li Si (Qin dynasty chancellors) serve as warnings about the perils of inadequate competence, while Zhang Liang (courtesy name Zifang, early Han strategist) exemplifies wisdom through his timely retirement at the peak of success. These stories collectively teach the importance of knowing one's limits and recognizing when to withdraw gracefully from the height of one's career.