《弘道錄》Vol. 13

The Bond Between Father and Son

Emperor Taizu of Song’s mother, Empress Dowager Du, known by her posthumous title Zhaoxian, governed her household with strictness and order. She had five sons: the eldest was Taizu, followed by Kuangji, Guangyi, Guangmei, and Kuangzan. After Taizu ascended the throne, he honored her as empress dowager and bowed to her in the main hall. Everyone offered congratulations, but she looked troubled and was not pleased.

Those around her said, “This subject has heard that a mother is honored when her son rises to high rank. Now your son has become the Son of Heaven. Why are you not pleased?” The empress dowager replied, “I have heard that it is difficult to be a ruler. The Son of Heaven stands above countless people. If he governs well, his position is naturally honored; but if he loses the ability to govern the realm, he cannot simply return to being an ordinary person. That is why I am worried.” Taizu bowed again in thanks and said, “I will keep your instruction firmly in mind.”

The Hongdao lu comments: Empress Dowager Du had witnessed the wars of the Five Dynasties with her own eyes, when even members of one family—even mothers and sons—could not protect one another. That is why she gave this warning. When Yu the Great set out his plans for governing the state, he began by speaking of the difficulty of managing affairs. Empress Dowager Du understood not only the way of a mother, but also the way of a ruler. She used these words to admonish Taizu. In later years, the Song dynasty suffered no disasters caused by empresses and their relatives like those associated with Lü, Wang, Wu, and Wei; within the palace, it also had virtuous empresses such as Gao, Cao, Xiang, and Meng. These things were connected to the family standards established by Empress Dowager Du. Thus, when the histories praise the good fortune she left behind, they are right to do so.

When Emperor Taizong fell seriously ill, Wang Jien, the palace official in charge of Xuan Zheng affairs, feared the crown prince’s ability. In secret, he plotted with Li Changling, vice director of state affairs; Li Jixun, commander of the palace guards; Hu Dan, drafter of imperial edicts; and others to enthrone Prince Yuan Zuo of Chu, who had once been deposed as crown prince. Chancellor Lü Duan entered the palace to attend to the ill emperor. Noticing that the crown prince was not at Taizong’s side, he suspected that something was amiss in the palace. He wrote the characters “gravely ill” on his court tablet—the hand board officials carried when attending court—and sent a trusted aide to urge the crown prince to hurry to the palace and attend the emperor.

After Taizong died, the empress ordered Wang Jien to summon Lü Duan to discuss the succession. Lü Duan realized that something had changed, so he tricked Wang Jien into entering the library, locked him inside, and had guards posted there. Then he hurried into the palace himself. The empress asked Lü Duan, “The emperor has passed away. It is only proper to select an heir according to seniority. What should we do?” Lü Duan replied, “The late emperor appointed the crown prince precisely for this day. Now that he has only just passed away, how can we immediately defy his final command and raise objections?” The empress said nothing. Lü Duan then escorted the crown prince to the Funing Hall, where he ascended the throne.

After the new emperor took the throne, he summoned the ministers from behind a lowered curtain. Lü Duan stood upright below the hall without bowing. He asked that the curtain be raised, then went up into the hall to inspect the emperor closely. Only after that did he descend the steps and lead the ministers… [The original text ends here.]

He bowed to him.

The Record of Promoting the Way says: After the Covenant of the Golden Coffer was betrayed, Emperor Zhenzong had only just ascended the throne when the Li Jien En affair broke out. Fortunately, Lü Duan handled it well, averting disaster. During Emperor Renzong’s reign, Yun Gong’s treacherous plot emerged; fortunately, Wang Zeng dealt with it skillfully, sparing the court upheaval. These crises all came when the state was in peril and the political situation was unsettled. The country weathered them in safety because of the loyal, steady foundations laid since its founding.

At the time, the Song state was flourishing and principled men held power. The ministers could therefore put their ambitions into practice, while petty men had no room to plot. Otherwise, could Li Jien not have forced his way through the gate? Would he have meekly allowed himself to be captured? As for standing to receive a bow in ordinary circumstances without bowing in return, that too was truly unavoidable. Since he could not receive the charge in accordance with ritual, as recorded in the “Gu ming” chapter of the Book of Zhou, he could hardly avoid lifting the curtain to inspect the scene closely.

At first, Wang Anshi took charge of the government and changed the old institutions established by the ancestors. Empress Dowager Guangxian, the wife of Emperor Yingzong, took the opportunity to say to Emperor Shenzong: “The laws of the ancestors should not be changed lightly. I hear that the people are suffering greatly under the Green Sprouts Law and the Aid to Labor Law. They should be abolished.” After Emperor Shenzong died, Emperor Zhezong ascended the throne, and Empress Dowager Xuanying, the wife of Emperor Yingzong, took charge of the government. She dismissed the laborers repairing the capital, reduced the number of patrol soldiers at the imperial city, halted the work of palace artisans, abolished the Luo River Diversion Bureau, and released the thirteen most lawless of the palace attendants. She also warned officials throughout the court and provinces against harsh exactions, eased the people’s burdens, and abolished policies such as the Bao Household Horse scheme.

In addition, she halted the manufacture of weapons, canceled the purchase of horses in Chengdu and Lizhou, closed the goods depots in Jingdong, Jingxi, and Sizhou, and stopped the market exchange and pledge system. She abolished the Bian River Embankment Bureau; exempted interest on land taxes, market exchange payments, Ever-Normal Granary payments, and service exemption payments; and ended such practices as arbitrary surcharges, fines for missed deadlines, and payments for exemption from compulsory service. She dismissed the officials overseeing the funds and grain of the Baojia system, abolished the field-measurement law and the Fuyan brigade-command system, and stopped the establishment of additional mints. The emperor issued direct edicts for all these measures, and senior ministers such as Wang Gui had no prior knowledge of them.

The Record of Promoting the Way says: In my view, relations between Empress Dowager Guangxian and Empress Dowager Xuanying—as mother-in-law and daughter-in-law—show how well one can carry forward and develop the work of one’s predecessors. Empress Dowager Guangxian intended to reform matters but had not yet had the chance to act. Empress Dowager Xuanying put those intentions into practice. She also followed and continued the worthy measures Empress Dowager Guangxian had already taken. If the rulers of the Shaoxi and Chongning eras had likewise carried on the work of their predecessors, what would have been wrong with that? Sadly, they claimed in name to continue their predecessors’ work, but in practice did something else. If they still have any sense of shame, how could they face these two empress dowagers in the world below?

After the Empress Dowager (Empress Dowager Xuanyiren) died, Zhezong changed the era name to Shaosheng. Yang Wei submitted a memorial saying that Shenzong had altered the old laws so they could be followed for generations to come. He urged that they be studied and implemented as soon as possible, thereby fulfilling the path of “carrying on and expounding” the late emperor’s aims. Zhezong immediately asked which former ministers could be summoned back to service. Yang Wei then submitted a list recommending Zhang Dun, Lü Huiqing, Deng Wenbo, and Li Qingchen. Zhezong accepted the recommendations wholeheartedly. He appointed Zhang Dun Left Vice Director of the Department of State Affairs, a post equivalent to chief minister, and made “carrying on and expounding” the policy of the state. Zhang Dun then brought in his allies Cai Bian, Lin Xi, Huang Lü, Lai Zhishao, Zhang Shangying, and others. They took control of important posts and served as remonstrance officials, joining together in a faction and taking revenge for old grievances.

The author comments: “The calamities passed down by Wang Anshi’s faction were truly devastating. Those who discuss this matter know only to blame the reforms at their inception; they do not realize that the real calamity lay in the policy of ‘carrying on and expounding.’ Carrying on and expounding was originally a fine policy. King Wen, King Wu, and the Duke of Zhou not only enjoyed eight hundred years of good fortune and dynastic rule, but also earned lasting renown. People praised them for being good at carrying on the aims of their predecessors and developing their achievements. Yet in the phrase ‘good at carrying on’ and ‘good at developing,’ the word ‘good’ contains boundless meaning, and must be examined with care. The good fortune of the benevolent can endure without end, but the ill will of the violent does not necessarily vanish with them. Had Emperor Renzong left an heir, with Shenzong succeeding to the task he had left unfinished, disaster from the northern peoples might not have occurred. Now, one Empress Dowager Xuanyiren was not enough to set things right, while one Zhang Dun was more than enough to ruin them. This was because Zhezong was Shenzong’s son. Cui Yan and Chen Guan each submitted memorials of a thousand words urging him to reconsider, but he would not listen; a single remark from Deng Xunwu, by contrast, delighted him. This, too, was because Huizong was Shenzong’s son. Alas! In the Zhou dynasty, the succession passed from Jili to Chang, King Wen, and Heaven’s mandate was thereby made enduring and secure. Shenzong passed the throne to Zhezong, and then to Ji, Huizong, and the affairs of the state deteriorated day by day. Is this not the same act of ‘carrying on the aims and developing the achievements’—yet with a difference between good and bad ways of upholding the founding tradition?”

Dou Yujun had five sons: Dou Yi, Dou Yan, Dou Kan, Dou Cheng, and Dou Xi. They passed the civil service examinations one after another and were known as the “Five Dragons.” Feng Dao composed a poem for him: “Dou Shilang of Yanshan taught his sons with principled guidance; one old lingchun tree, five fragrant branches of cassia.” In the first year of the Jianlong era of the Song dynasty, Emperor Taizu told his chief ministers that the Hanlin Academy was a place of great dignity and depth, and should be staffed by senior Confucian scholars. Dou Yi, he said, was upright, principled, steady, and generous; no one else would do. That very day, he appointed him an academician. Taizu later praised Dou Yi’s integrity and independent judgment many times, and wanted to make him chief minister, but Zhao Pu was wary of his forthrightness. When Dou Yi died, people mourned and felt deep regret for him.

Someone lamented, “Why did Heaven take my life, Dou Yi, so soon? Perhaps it was because it pitied him for never having received the recognition he deserved.”

Dou Yan was especially gifted, with a thorough command of astronomy, the constellations, and the calendar. When he served as a remonstrance official—one responsible for advising the emperor—with Lu Duosun and Yang Huizhi, he once told them, “In the Dingmao year, the five planets will gather in the Kui mansion. From then on, the realm will be at peace.” Events later unfolded just as he had predicted. Taizu said to his attendants, “Among recent court officials, Dou Yan is dignified and upright. His household is well ordered, his family lives in harmony, and no one has anything ill to say about him.” None of his younger brothers matched him. Dou Xi was of only middling ability, while Dou Cheng was distinguished for his integrity and character.

The Hongdao lu comments: “I have considered the Dou family’s conduct at the beginning of the Song. Their changing allegiance to serve their enemies certainly deserves criticism. Yet they taught their children sound principles, which is also worthy of praise. Still, it took the auspicious gathering of the five planets in the Kui mansion for a generation of talented men to emerge. Without the upheaval and dispersal of the Five Dynasties, the five sons’ careers and conduct might not have turned out as they did. Such, by and large, is the way of human affairs. A gentleman should not judge them too harshly.”

Chen Shenghua and his wife, Lady Feng, were stern and resolute, and kept a well-ordered household. Their sons, Yao-sou, Yao-zuo, and Yao-zi, were dutiful and respectful in their daily lives. They served their parents with gentle expressions and never dared to put on airs because of their own high rank. During the Jingde era, Yao-sou oversaw the Privy Council’s affairs, Yao-zuo worked at the Historiography Institute, and Yao-zi drafted imperial edicts. All three served in the Northern Secretariat alongside their father, Shenghua. Whenever guests came to visit, the brothers would stand beside their father and attend to him. The guests felt uncomfortable and often made excuses to leave.

Yao-sou had an imposing appearance and abundant energy. When presenting memorials, he was clear in thought and expression, and he was resourceful. He oversaw confidential affairs for many years and knew the registers of troops and horses by heart. Yao-zuo loved learning from childhood. When their father taught the brothers to read the classics, his elder brother had not yet finished the lesson, but Yao-zuo listened secretly from the side and was already able to recite it. Even after attaining high rank, he never stopped studying. At first, he followed Zhong Fang to study in the Zhongnan Mountains. Chen Tuan told Shenghua, “All three of your sons will become ministers of state, but only the middle son will attain both high rank and a long life.” Chen Tuan’s words later proved true.

When Yao-zuo was nearing death, he wrote his own epitaph, saying, “I lived to the age of eighty-two. I did not attain the highest rank in the Bureau of Heaven, nor did I serve as a lowly envoy. I resigned my stipend without bringing shame upon myself. These three things, more or less, can console my parents’ spirits in Heaven.” Yao-zi prided himself on his moral courage. The gentlemen of the time held that Shenghua’s reputation had been enhanced by his sons. Since the beginning of the Song, no family known for its upbringing and household traditions has surpassed theirs.

The Hongdao lu comments: “I have considered the Chen family. At the time, they were indeed worthy of praise, and Yao-zuo’s high rank and long life especially seemed to fulfill the prediction. But if one acts deliberately just to make a prediction come true, perhaps that might still be acceptable…”

It is wrong for a person to boast arrogantly. Wealth, status, and long life are things people desire, but they cannot always be obtained by striving for them. Yan Hui died young; Zeng Shen enjoyed little good fortune or rank; Ran Geng and Min Sun held no distinguished official posts. Yet later generations still revered them because they possessed virtue. Cultivating oneself and establishing virtue are therefore the foundation; achievements and a career come second. Only then can one dwell peacefully in a tranquil spiritual realm and perhaps fulfill the wish to rise early, retire late, and remain diligent and self-disciplined.

The two sons of Lü Gongzhu, Lü Xizhe and Lü Xichun, studied in their youth with Jiao Qianzhi, Sun Fu, Shi Jie, and Hu Yuan. Their virtue and judgment far surpassed those of ordinary people. As adults, they continued their studies under the two Cheng brothers and Zhang Zai, broadening their learning even further. They then gave up the pursuit of official distinction: they did not sit the civil service examinations or seek office and profit through luck.

Wang Anshi planned to appoint his son, Wang Pang, as a lecturer. Because Lü Xizhe was known for his virtue, Wang wanted to appoint him first. Lü declined, saying, “You have favored me for a long time. If I enter public service on that account, I will inevitably disagree with your political views. Then the friendship we have shared until now will come to an end.” Wang Anshi let the matter drop.

Later, when Shen Gong became prime minister, Lü Xizhe’s two younger brothers, Lü Gongchuo and Lü Gongbi, were already serving in offices such as the Department of State Affairs and the government bureaus and courts. Lü Xizhe alone remained in a post managing storehouses. Shen Gong sighed, “I have, for the most part, found and appointed the worthy men of our day. You alone have never had the chance to serve because of me. Such is fate.” When Lü Xizhe’s mother heard this, she laughed and said, “It seems you still don’t understand your own son.”

Fan Zuyu was Lü Xizhe’s brother-in-law. He recommended him to Emperor Zhezong, saying that Lü Xizhe had a thorough command of the Confucian classics and upright conduct, and was suited to serve as a lecturer. The court then appointed Lü Xizhe as a Reader-in-Waiting at Chongzheng Hall, an official charged with explaining the classics to the emperor. Lü urged the emperor to make self-cultivation his foundation, and to give priority to setting his heart right and making his intentions sincere. He said that if a person could not cultivate himself, he could not even teach those close to him—how much less could he transform the people of the whole realm? Lü Xizhe and Lü Xichun successively upheld the family’s virtue. They were mild in manner, simple, and frugal. In their later years their reputations grew, and people from near and far respected them and regarded them as teachers.

The compiler of the Record of Broadening the Way comments: The histories say that Shen Gong knew his nephew Lü Xizhe was worthy but failed to recommend him, and therefore hold that Shen Gong wronged his great-uncle Lü Yijian. I believe, however, that Shen Gong did not wrong Lü Xizhe’s father, Lü Zhengxian. Why? In the time of Duke Wenmu Lü, the Dao flourished and appointments were made according to merit; one should not refuse to recommend a relative merely to avoid suspicion. When Shen Gong was in power, the Dao had already declined. People had to guard against accusations of favoring their kin, so Shen Gong had reservations. Later, Lin Xi even said that Lü Dafang advanced through Lü Gongzhu’s support, and that Lü Xizhe was recommended by Lü Gongzhu in repayment of a personal favor. Lü Gongzhu’s fault, he claimed, was brought about by Lü Xizhe. Alas, did Mencius not say that a person should be able to look up without shame before Heaven and look down without shame before other people?

For human beings, the rarest thing is the insight of a sage. Look back with such insight at people like Pang and Xi, and they seem like rotting rats, unworthy of comparison.

Hong Hao had three sons: Shi, Zun, and Mai. From childhood, Hong Shi was clever and quick to understand, able to read three thousand characters a day. When Hong Hao went on a diplomatic mission to the north, Hong Shi was only thirteen, yet he was already capable of managing the household. In recognition of his father’s service on the mission, he was appointed a Junior Gentleman for Cultivation of Office. In the twelfth year of the Shaoxing era, he and his younger brother Hong Zun both passed the examination in broad learning and literary composition. Emperor Gaozong of Song remarked, “The father is far away in a foreign land, yet the son can stand on his own. This is Heaven’s reward.” He therefore promoted Hong Shi beyond the usual rank, appointing him as an editor in the Office for Revising Edicts; Hong Zun was appointed Corrector in the Palace Library. Three years later, Hong Mai also passed the same examination.

From then on, the literary reputation of the “Three Hongs” spread throughout the realm. Later, because Hong Hao had offended Qin Hui, all three sons were transferred to posts outside the capital. Hong Hao was banished to Yingzhou, and Hong Shi traveled back and forth to Lingnan to visit and serve his father, a duty he carried out for nine years. After Qin Hui’s death, Hong Shi rose from an official of the Two Academies into the government, and a month later was promoted to chief councillor. Hong Zun became an academician at the Zizheng Hall, and Hong Mai an academician at the Duanming Hall. Hong Mai’s writing was especially accomplished, and after entering court he often voiced his opinions. Is it not true that the loyal and righteous are eventually rewarded?

The Record says: How can Hong Zhongxuan—Hong Hao’s posthumous title—be compared with Su Changru? When Su Wu went on his mission, the power of the Central Kingdoms was strong, and the Xiongnu relied only on their barbarous arrogance. When Hong Hao went on his mission, the balance of strength between the Chinese and the foreign peoples had been reversed, and he was almost certain to die. If Heaven had not rewarded his loyalty and righteousness, how could it have protected his family?

Qin Hui’s wickedness was more savage than that of dogs and sheep, and the harm he did exceeded that of a foreign enemy. Even the enemy tolerated Hong Hao’s remaining in a foreign land, but Qin Hui would not allow him to serve his sovereign at court. The emperor was able to promote the Hong father and sons for a time, yet later could not protect them. In the end, human affairs cannot defy Heaven’s mandate. Ultimately, Hong Hao had sons who brought honor to the family and, through their writing, brought distinction to the state. Though he never held power during his lifetime, after his death he received the honor of a chief councillor. The historians also said that the reward for loyalty and righteousness had its cause.

Hu Anguo had three sons: Yin, Hong, and Ning. Hu Anguo pursued learning with rigor and put it into practice, holding himself to the standards of the sages. He was resolved to bring stability to the realm and relieve the people’s suffering. Seeing the Central Kingdoms fall and the people sink into hardship, he often felt as though their pain were his own. Though he was repeatedly dismissed after being charged with various offenses, his loyalty to the sovereign and concern for the state only deepened. Whenever he received an imperial command, he set aside his family affairs and gave them no further thought. His bearing was calm and elevated, above the concerns of the world; in his eyes, nothing under Heaven was enough to stir his heart.

After the court abandoned the Spring and Autumn Annals and removed it from the official curriculum, Hu Anguo believed that the work, personally edited and fixed by the ancient sage, had now been kept from rulers, who could no longer hear it explained, and from scholars, who could no longer study and transmit it to one another. This would lead to disorder in human relationships, the extinction of Heaven’s principles, and even the transformation of the civilized realm by the barbarians; he feared these things were all connected to the abandonment of the text. He devoted himself to studying the Spring and Autumn Annals for more than twenty years, believing that there was no principle of the world not contained in it. He often lamented, “This is an essential classic for transmitting the sages’ heart and teaching.”

Hu Yin, whose courtesy name was Zhitang, was the nephew of Hu Anguo’s younger brother. Clever and mischievous as a child, he was difficult to discipline. His father shut him in an empty upper chamber. There were some pieces of miscellaneous wood there, and Hu Yin carved them all into human figures. Hu Anguo said, “We should find a way to redirect his attention.” So several thousand volumes of books were placed in the chamber. A little over a year later, Hu Yin had memorized every one of them, without missing a single volume. He was ambitious and broad-minded. When he received the order exiling him to Xinzhou, he set out that very day.

Hu Hong, known as Wufeng, inherited his father’s learning. At the foot of Mount Heng, he studied calmly for more than twenty years, applying himself day and night without ever letting up. Zhang Shi once studied under him. When Hu Anguo taught the Spring and Autumn Annals, Hu Yin took responsibility for revising, compiling, and checking the text. He also wrote the Essential Meaning of the Spring and Autumn Annals to explain and supplement it.

The Hongdao lu comments: People called Hu Anguo “Kanghou,” saying he was like heavy frost in the depth of winter. Could his sons have withered like plants unable to withstand the cold? Hu Yin’s memorials to the throne were full of moral force, just like his father’s. This was because their family learning had been passed down, with the Spring and Autumn Annals as their guiding standard. The father oversaw and settled the text; the son undertook its examination. Between them, they were like an entire historical bureau. Few cases resemble those of Sima Guang and Hu Anguo. Although Hu Yin never held office, it was as if he had served the state. For father and son to be masters of Confucian learning alike was truly a fine thing.

Cai Yuanding’s two sons, Cai Yuan and Cai Shen, both worked the land themselves and held no official posts. When Cai Yuanding was exiled to Daozhou, he traveled thousands of miles to a remote place on the border between Chu and Yue. Father and sons sat together, taking pleasure only in discussing principles. At the age of thirty, Cai Shen gave up his studies for the civil service examinations and instead took the sages and worthies as his teachers.

The mathematical learning of the Great Plan had long been lost among scholars. Only Cai Yuanding understood it, but he had not yet had time to write a treatise. He often said, “Cai Shen is the one who can complete my work.” After receiving his father’s instruction, Cai Shen thought over the subject and studied it deeply for many years before writing his book. He believed that the Changes’ hexagrams and images embody the transformations of Heaven and Earth, while the Great Plan’s numbers record them. Number begins with the odd “one,” while the hexagram images are formed from the even “two.” Odd numbers are the basis for the operation of numerical principles; even numbers are the foundation on which hexagram images are formed. Thus, two can be divided into four, four… The original text breaks off here.

The so-called “eight by eight” refers to the symbolic numbers formed by doubling the Eight Trigrams. Each trigram consists of three lines; when the Eight Trigrams are doubled, they form the sixty-four hexagrams. Doubling the sixty-four hexagrams again yields 4,096 possible changes, completing the system of hexagram images. Nine times nine is eighty-one, and multiplying eighty-one by nine gives 6,561, thereby completing the numerical system as well.

The Classic of Changes (Yijing) was elucidated by four sages, making its hexagram images clear. The Great Plan (Hongfan) was transmitted by the divine Yu, or Great Yu, but its numerical principles did not survive. Later writers did not understand the sources of symbolic numbers and so could not grasp the Way of Change. Some tried to derive numerical principles directly from the hexagram images; others worked in reverse, using numbers to construct hexagram images. Still others used diagrammatic methods drawn from works such as the Cavern of the Ultimate, the Book of Applications, and the Hidden Void, forcing connections that ultimately distorted the natural order of numbers.

My late father once said, “The Luo Writing—the mysterious numerical diagram said to have been obtained by Great Yu while controlling the floods—is the source of numerical principles.” I felt the truth of this deeply as I read the Great Plan. Look upward to examine the heavens, look downward to observe the earth, compare the changes in human affairs across past and present, and investigate the subtleties of principle and the signs of rise and decline: you will find that its ordering of human relationships and moral norms is methodical, reflecting the principle that all things between Heaven and Earth each occupy their proper place. Thus the Western Mountain scholar Jia was right to say that the Great Plan serves the same purpose as the Classic of Changes transmitted by the Three Sages.

The Records on the Elucidation of the Way comments: “In my view, among the sons of the various scholars, only Jiufeng—Cai Shen’s courtesy name—transmitted the essential teaching. His Imperial Great Plan of the Supreme Ultimate was likely based on the idea that the creation of Heaven and Earth follows numerical principles, that the formation of people and things follows numerical principles, and that the gains and losses of all things are likewise related to numbers. The substance of numbers appears in images, while their function is subtly contained in principles. Unless someone can plumb wondrous transformations and stand apart from all things, who could understand these truths?”

When compiling his Collected Commentaries on the Book of Documents, he wrote: “The governance of the Two Emperors and Three Kings was rooted in the Way; the Way they followed was rooted in the heart. Ritual, music, and moral instruction were expressions of the heart’s intent; institutions, regulations, and ritual objects made that intent visible; cultivating oneself and one’s family, governing the state, and bringing peace to all under Heaven put that intent into practice. Is the heart’s virtue not supremely great? The intentions of the sages appear in the Book of Documents just as the wondrous workings of natural creation appear in the myriad things. Without profound learning, one cannot recognize them.” He therefore surpassed others by far, and his place in the Confucian temple beside Confucius was truly deserved.

Li Shunchen had three sons: Xinchuan, Daochuan, and Xingchuan. Shunchen carried on his learning, practiced it diligently, and wrote extensively; both father and sons were accomplished historians. He once served as registrar of the Court of the Imperial Clan and took part in revising the Jade Genealogy of the Yuling Mausoleum, the imperial family’s genealogical record. When Zeng Bu and Lü Huiqing first came to power, he carefully recorded the events surrounding them.

His mother said anxiously, “Go ahead and say everything that needs to be said. Your elder brother and I are here.” Tang Lin thanked his mother, then set out to take up his post.

Tang Lin submitted a memorial: “The celestial signs are ominous, as though Heaven were enraged; the people are resentful and nearly in revolt. The state is on the verge of collapse, and all under Heaven faces ruin. Your Majesty, what time do you think this is? Yet you indulge your desires and damage your virtue, covering up wrongdoing with excuses. You keep your distance from upright people and draw close to imperial relatives and eunuchs. The chief minister relies on his literary talent to govern, yet shows no concern for the people’s lives. He recklessly stirs up trouble among them, gives no thought to whether his actions are appropriate, and suddenly empties the treasury. The powerful minister Jia Sidao appoints his own son, secretly colludes with merchants and accepts bribes, while ruthlessly driving out upright men. These petty relations by marriage dare to take part in wicked schemes. They treat affairs of state as a joke and the emperor’s authority as a rare commodity. The people of the capital look on askance, and officials at court are deeply distressed. Why not execute Jia Sidao and make his crime of disloyalty plain?” The man named in this memorial was Jia Sidao.

Tang Lin submitted another memorial, denouncing Zheng Qingzhi as foolish and incompetent and accusing him of harming the state. Zheng Qingzhi’s son, Zheng Shichang, seized power and took bribes, promoted mediocre generals to command, and placed corrupt officials in charge of local government. Tang Lin served in the Censorate for fewer than a hundred days. People said that Tang Zifang of the Tang dynasty—Tang Jie, famed for daring to remonstrate frankly—had appeared once more. All this was the result of his mother’s guidance.

The History of the Yuan records that when Yao Tianfu was appointed Censor, his mother admonished him: “The ancients spoke of serving the public and forgetting oneself. Since you have given yourself to the state as its servant, you should speak whatever is in your heart and fulfill your duty. Do not worry about me, a widow left behind. Let me follow the example of Ling’s mother, who urged her son to serve the state out of righteousness. If you do, then even on the day I die, I will be as though alive.” Yao Tianfu also petitioned the Censorate: “A Censor’s duty is to speak out. Even if doing so gives offense, he must not conceal the truth. If I am punished for it, please do not implicate my family.” Someone reported these words to Kublai Khan, Emperor Shizu of Yuan. The emperor exclaimed, “Though Yao Tianfu and his mother live in our own time, their words of righteousness and courage are worthy to stand alongside those of the ancients.”

The Hongdao lu comments: “Tang Lin of the Song and Yao Tianfu of the Yuan received the same guidance from their mothers, but their achievements differed. Tang Lin served in the Censorate for fewer than a hundred days. Though he remonstrated with the emperor bluntly and held nothing back, by then the Song dynasty could no longer be saved. Even if Tang Zifang had returned to the world, who could have rescued it? Yao Tianfu, by contrast, served under Emperor Shizu of Yuan, when his remonstrances were accepted and his views heard. He not only restored discipline in the Censorate, preventing factional conflict at court, but also rebuilt the system of inspection and subdued the powerful. Tang Lin was not lacking in courage; the trouble was that the great edifice was already collapsing, and he feared he could not bear the weight of the task. Nor was Yao Tianfu exceptionally unyielding; the Yuan dynasty was at the height of its power, and there was no fear of inviting disaster. The contrasting joy and sorrow of the two mothers, and the difference between an age in decline and one moving toward prosperity, are clear from this.”

Bayan Temür was An Tong’s grandson. His father died when he was five, and his mother, Lady Que Lie, was virtuous and principled, and raised him to adulthood. As Bayan Temür grew up, he developed a broad outlook and lofty ambitions. Upright and perceptive, he showed much of the character of his forebears.

He once submitted a memorial saying, “A person in office should be familiar with the duties of the position he holds. As for learning, it should have firm foundations and be put to practical use in government. These are the responsibilities of a Confucian scholar and the qualities required of a chief minister. Your Majesty has entrusted me with a heavy responsibility, and I have three things I deeply fear: bringing disgrace upon my ancestors; the great weight of the affairs of the realm, which may exceed the breadth of my understanding; and my own youth, which may leave me unable to shoulder this responsibility or repay Your Majesty’s favor.”

Bayan Temür often stood guard in the palace, and whenever he knew something, he reported it truthfully. After entering the court as chief minister, he strengthened the governing order, put neglected affairs of state back in order, eliminated unnecessary business, closed off avenues for opportunists seeking advantage, provided relief to soldiers and civilians, and reduced corvée labor and taxes. Emperor Yingzong relied on him. Together, they rallied their energies and sought to govern the realm well. At the time, the realm was peaceful, the treasury well supplied, and the people prosperous. Even distant tribes that had never before sent envoys came to pay tribute and ask to have officials appointed.

Bayan Temür was only twenty when he first took up the post of Director of the Court of Rites. His subordinates came to his home to ask him to sign official documents, but found him watching a performance in the back garden. His mother scolded him sharply: “The government’s business is not yet done, and you are doing this. Is this what a man of stature ought to do?” Bayan Temür then reproached himself deeply.

One day, he attended a banquet with Emperor Yingzong, who insisted that he drink several cups. After he became drunk, his mother warned him: “When the Son of Heaven insists that you drink, you should be all the more alert and cautious. You must not become given over to wine.” His mother urged and instructed him in everything he did, and people therefore said that Bayan Temür’s virtue owed much to her teaching.

The Record comments: “Muqali was one of the Yuan dynasty’s four outstanding meritorious officials. In the fourth generation after him came An Tong; two generations later came Bayan Temür. Bayan Temür said that he had three things he deeply feared, and several generations of his family brought no disgrace upon their forebears. Who can say that the Yuan dynasty, throughout its fortunes, could not produce a person of this kind? The reason, I suppose, was that his mother taught him through rules and exemplary conduct, helping him rein in his wayward and careless impulses so that he would not become lost in them. After him, no one was able to equal him.”

The Record of Eminent Officials of the Great Ming states: “During the Jingtai era, Zhang Lun, a Secretariat Drafter in the Ministry of Rites; Censor Lin Cong; Censor Zhong Tong; and Minister of the Court of Judicial Review Liao Zhuang, among others, submitted remonstrances in response to omens and anomalies. At the time, the Retired Emperor was living separately in the Southern Palace, and Emperor Xianzong had been demoted to prince. Relations between the two palaces had grown distant, and resentments were beginning to arise. Omens and anomalies appeared one after another, alarming the people, yet none of the court’s senior officials dared to speak out. Zhang Lun specifically presented fourteen proposals for cultivating virtue and averting calamity. On the subject of fostering filial piety and righteousness, he said: ‘The Retired Emperor ruled the realm for fourteen years. Your Majesty formerly…’ The original text ends here.”

This passage discusses the Jingtai reign’s succession dispute over replacing the crown prince, the ministers’ remonstrances, and the author’s comments. It concludes with an account from the Record of Audience in the Yan Palace (Yandui lu) concerning the eighteenth year of the Hongzhi reign.

The passage begins with words of admonition. The emperor personally accepted the investiture and treated the Retired Emperor with the respect due to a subject because the Retired Emperor was the father of all under Heaven. Therefore, on the first and fifteenth days of each month, and on the first day of the New Year, the emperor should lead his officials in paying their respects, thereby fulfilling the proper duty of reverence. The passage also urges the restoration of the former empress to her place in the central palace, so that she might set the proper example for mothers throughout the realm, and the restoration of the former crown prince to the Eastern Palace, thereby securing the foundation of the realm. Once these principles were understood, bonds of human affection would grow stronger, harmony would flourish, Heaven’s will would naturally turn back, and portents of calamity would naturally disappear.

The account then relates that someone was confined after incurring the emperor’s anger. Earlier, in the third year of Jingtai, when the court first proposed replacing the crown prince and referred the matter to the assembled officials for discussion, officials of every rank hesitated and watched one another, afraid to speak. One minister, Lin Cong, was the first to speak plainly: the crown prince had committed no fault and must not be replaced. In his indignation, he refused to sign the proposal. He and Zhong Tong, Liao Zhuang, and others remonstrated one after another, all holding the same view. Although they could not prevent the change of heir, people admired these ministers for their integrity and sense of duty, and Heaven’s Mandate ultimately did not change.

The author then comments: “I have examined the positions taken by these ministers. They are grave and resolute, accord with the great principles of the Spring and Autumn Annals, and are standards on which people today and in generations to come should rely. In the Spring and Autumn period, after Kuai Kui, heir to the Duke of Wei, fled into exile, his son Zhe was not deposed. In Lu, Duke Yin merely held the throne as regent, and Duke Huan succeeded him later. When Emperor Yingzong returned after being captured by the Oirat Mongols, Emperor Xianzong, his son, was in the prime of life. Why should he have been replaced? Moreover, Emperor Jingtai’s designated heir died young, and the empress had endured one upheaval after another. At that time, the court should have accepted the proposals of Zhong Tong and Zhang Lun, heeded the arguments of Lin Cong and Liao Zhuang, shown due respect to the Retired Emperor Yingzong, and restored the crown prince to the Eastern Palace. This would have made the succession proper in name and in fact, and the later Coup of the Palace Gate might never have occurred.

“Before long, Yingzong resumed the throne in accordance with Heaven’s will and the people’s wishes, and light returned after darkness. After being deposed, Xianzong returned to his rightful position. The throne passed down to the present emperor, and its blessings will endure for countless generations. Were the ministers’ arguments at that time not clear and upright? From this we can see that the succession to the throne of our Great Ming was established between Heaven and Earth, like the sun and moon hanging high above, and must never be defied or overstepped, even for a moment.”

The final section quotes the Record of Audience in the Yan Palace: “In the fifth month of the eighteenth year of Hongzhi, the emperor, Xiaozong, fell ill. The Directorate of Ceremonial summoned the Grand Secretaries Li Dongyang, Liu Jian, and Xie Qian to enter the Qianqing Palace and come before the imperial bed. The emperor sat dressed in informal robes, and Liu Jian and the others bowed their heads to the ground. The emperor told them to come closer, so the three knelt directly beside the bed. The emperor said, ‘I inherited the great succession of my ancestors and have been on the throne for eighteen years. I am now thirty-six, yet I have fallen ill with this sickness and fear I may not recover.’”

The emperor’s face was flushed, his breathing heavy and his breath rapid. Jian and the others said, “May Your Majesty live ten thousand years. You are merely unwell for a time and need to rest and recover. How can you suddenly speak this way?”

The emperor said, “I know what is in my own heart. The Mandate of Heaven is as it is; it cannot be forced. I have guarded the laws and institutions of our ancestors and dared not neglect or abandon them. Thanks to the great kindness of my late imperial father, he chose the Zhang family’s daughter to be my empress. We married in the twenty-third year of Chenghua, and on the twenty-fourth day of the ninth month of the fourth year of Hongzhi, she gave birth to the Heir Apparent. He is now fifteen, yet no marriage has been arranged for him. Matters of state are of great consequence, so the Ministry of Rites should make the arrangements promptly.”

They all replied, “We obey.”

The emperor continued, “The Heir Apparent is intelligent and perceptive, but still young, and fond of ease and pleasure. You, his teachers, should often urge him to come out and read, and guide him well, so that he becomes a person of upright character.”

Jian and the others all bowed and replied, “How could we fail to do our utmost?”

The Hongdao lu records: “When I consider the final instructions of Emperor Xiao, the Hongzhi Emperor, I see that he gave them calmly and with great care, conveying his concerns in full. His arrangements were complete in every respect. Though made in a different age, they express the same principle as the testament in the Counsels of the Duke of Zhou. His words, ‘I have guarded the laws and institutions of our ancestors and dared not neglect or abandon them,’ are especially worthy of deep reflection and gratitude from ministers of later generations. Even today, these words remain in people’s hearts and are hard to forget.

“Yet his warning that the Heir Apparent was fond of ease proved all too apt, just as his final instructions had foretold. Later, Liu Jin, Zhu Ning, Jiang Bin, and others successively threw the court into disorder. Fortunately, thanks to the protection of the late emperor’s spirit in Heaven, these men rose quickly and fell just as quickly, and were unable to cause lasting harm. Was the late emperor’s foresight not far-reaching?

“Director Song Ne was naturally kind and sincere. His words and conduct were always proper, and he rarely laughed or joked. After the Imperial Academy was built, students sent from within and beyond the court grew in number, but teaching remained difficult because it clung to old methods. The court therefore promoted him to Director, placing him in charge of instruction. He devoted himself tirelessly to supporting the students and correcting shortcomings. By explaining the classics and raising questions for discussion, he dispelled scholars’ doubts and put them at ease in their studies, as travelers far from home would feel on finding a place of refuge. In his daily life, he often slept and ate in the side rooms, and did not even return home at night.

“One day, he fell ill. The emperor sent a eunuch to inquire after him and summoned his son, Song Lin, back to the capital to attend him. When the time came, Song Lin and the others urged him to return home, but he rebuked them sharply: ‘What kind of resolve is this? Why are you so attached to family feeling?’ Only when his illness became critical did he pass away. The emperor personally composed a text of condolence, and appointed Song Fu Zu, his second son, as Deputy Director of the Imperial Academy.”

The Hongdao lu records: “Only through daily diligence, persevering until death, can one embody the principle by which the sages encourage learning.”

There was a man who, though no one had ever heard of him spending a night away from home, thought he lacked the bold spirit of a man of affairs and was too attached to his wife and children. Must one have a heart of stone? Even so, if a man like this holds the office of tutor and guardian, advising and teaching the ruler or heir apparent, there is no need to worry that the ruler spends too little of the day receiving worthy scholars and officials, and too much in the company of eunuchs and palace women. It is precisely for this reason that principles can win the ruler’s trust, and loyalty can be put into practice. Later, Quezi became Director of the Directorate of Education. How could an ordinary family man compare with him?

The Jottings and Fragments of Yin Zhi records that He Wenyuan, father of the Minister of Rites, the Honorable He Wensu (He Qiaoxin), once served as prefect of Wenzhou and never accepted money offered to him. The local people built the “Hall of Refused Gold” in his honor, and it still stands today.

When the Honorable He Wensu had just passed the jinshi examination, Yan Hui, then county magistrate of Chao County in Huaixi, sent He Qiaoxin silver and silk. Yan had once studied under He Wenyuan. He Qiaoxin refused the gifts. Yan said, “I’m offering these things to congratulate your father, not giving them to you.” He Qiaoxin replied, “You may congratulate my father by sending them through someone else. But I cannot handle them myself.”

While serving in Fujian, He saw the eunuch of the Maritime Trade Office die. The officials responsible for guarding the region divided up the eunuch’s remaining possessions. When the goods were brought to the Three Offices, the government bodies overseeing local finance, justice, and other affairs, He alone firmly refused them. When he could not get out of accepting them, he took them and deposited them in the public treasury.

Later, when he was serving as Surveillance Commissioner of Bianzhou, Commander Wu Chengde sent him a rhinoceros-horn belt and silverware in thanks for He’s recommendation. He smiled and said, “I know you, but you don’t know me.” Wu withdrew in embarrassment.

After He Qiaoxin retired, Yang, the Pacification Commissioner, sent someone with gold, silver, and other valuables to wish him a happy birthday. He also offered a fine piece of catalpa wood, saying it could be made into a birthday gift. He accepted none of it. Someone urged him, “The thing a person must guard against most is greed. Now is the moment of trial.” He Qiaoxin’s integrity was simply part of his nature.

The compiler says: The ancients once remarked that a minister’s integrity cannot match his father’s. Today, some say that the He family’s integrity is surpassed by the son’s. I believe integrity is a virtue of scholar-officials. When it is passed down from father to son across generations, it deserves to be commended, even if it results from deliberate effort. If we dismiss such conduct as affected posturing and excessive display, then no one in the world could be considered a person of perfect character. I have therefore recorded this matter.

At the beginning of the Tianshun era, the eunuch Cao Jixiang and Shi Heng, Duke Zhongguo, relied on the emperor’s favor to seize power and act tyrannically. The Censor Yang Xuan impeached them. Soon, comets appeared one after another, and Cao and Shi grew even more brazen. Yang Xuan gathered thirteen groups of censors to submit a joint memorial, exposing their misconduct in strong terms. Someone took Shi Heng’s side, and Shi conspired with Cao Jixiang to slander Yang to the emperor. They had Yang imprisoned in the Embroidered Uniform Guard’s jail and fabricated charges, hoping to put him to death. Just then, in the capital…

He fled to Mapa, in the outskirts of Zhengyang, amid a violent storm of wind, rain, and hail that uprooted trees and damaged houses.

At first, he was sentenced to penal exile on the frontier, where he was to serve as a guard. Later, his punishment was reduced and he was reassigned to garrison Liaodong. After receiving an amnesty, he returned to his former post. The two treacherous ministers were still in power. Someone urged him to go and apologize so he could avoid disaster, but he refused. Later, he was again sent to garrison Guangxi. He was not appointed to office again until the two ministers had been executed.

His son, Yang Yuan, served during the Hongzhi era as an observing official in the Bureau of Astronomy, responsible for watching the heavens and calculating the calendar. In the early Zhengde era, Liu Jin held power. Yang Yuan submitted a memorial saying that, in his observations, the stars of Dajiao and the Heart Mansion were trembling, while Tianxuan, Tianji, and Tianquan were dim and indistinct. He urged the emperor to remain within the palace, avoid travel and imperial tours, reduce rewards, suspend construction projects and labor service, draw close to senior ministers and elder statesmen, and have the Classics of Poetry and Documents read and discussed.

In another memorial, he said that from the twenty-sixth day of the tenth month, his observations had revealed heavy fog persisting for many days. Layers of fog signaled the presence of many evil forces: Yin overwhelming Yang, ministers oppressing their ruler, petty men monopolizing power, and subordinates rebelling and rising above their superiors. He cited the classics at length and repeatedly urged the emperor to heed his warning. He also said that since the second year of Zhengde, observations had repeatedly shown Mars entering the Taiwei Enclosure, an astronomical region, and appearing before the throne star, shifting unpredictably from east to west. He urged the emperor to think ahead and prepare against danger. His words were aimed at Liu Jin.

Liu Jin was furious. He summoned Yang Yuan, accused him to his face of falsely transmitting an imperial edict, had him beaten with a staff, and then sent him to garrison Suzhou.

The Hongdao lu comments: “In my view, one sentence of penal exile is already excessive; I have never heard of someone who, after being punished once, still failed to learn his lesson. The father suffered for daring to speak frankly; I have never heard of a son repeating the same course. Only this father and son, with hearts as firm as iron and stone, would each deliver the same kind of admonition based on their observations of the heavens. The Yang father and son may be said to have kept their integrity from being obscured. That storm of wind, rain, and hail, uprooting trees and damaging houses, also reveals the profound intent of Heaven’s benevolence and care for the people.”

Hongdao lu, juan 20.