《弘道錄》Vol. 16

The Duty Between Brothers

Wan Zhang asked, “May I ask what it means when people say that Shun exiled Xiang?”

Mencius replied, “Xiang was unable to exercise authority within his own fief, so the Son of Heaven appointed officials to govern it and collect its tribute. That is why people say Shun exiled Xiang. Would Shun really have let Xiang harm the people?”

The Hongdao lu says: Looking closely at Xiang’s conduct, I do not think he was as wicked as the figures of later ages. Guan Shu and Cai Shu oversaw the lands of Yin; Cao Shen served as chancellor of Qi; Jia Yi served as chancellor of Liang; and Dong Zhongshu served as chancellor of Jiangdu. Did the Son of Heaven not also appoint officials to govern the fiefs where these men served? Yet few of them managed to avoid harming the people. This shows that Xiang wanted only wealth and status: once he received the tribute, he was content. People in later ages, by contrast, often sought power through cruelty, indulging their will and continually expanding their influence. Even a benevolent and dutiful ruler like the great Shun could hardly always know how best to handle such matters.

Taikang, ruler of the Xia dynasty, held office without doing his duty. He craved ease and pleasure, lost his Virtue, and was abandoned by the people. He spent his days in unrestrained revelry. He went hunting beyond the Luo River and stayed away for a hundred days. When the people could no longer endure his rule, Hou Yi, leader of the Youqiong clan, intercepted him at the Yellow River.

Taikang’s five younger brothers accompanied their mother as she followed him, and waited on the banks of the Luo River. Filled with resentment, the five brothers recounted the admonitions of the great Yu and composed five songs. The first said:

“Our ancestor left us this instruction: the people may be drawn close, but must not be treated with contempt. The people are the foundation of the state; when the foundation is firm, the state is at peace. When I look at the people of the realm, even the most ordinary men and women each have something in which they surpass me. When a ruler repeatedly does wrong, why would resentment wait until the truth is fully exposed to arise? We must be alert even to signs we cannot see. Facing the countless people, I am as wary as one driving six horses while holding reins on the verge of breaking. How can a ruler fail to be cautious?”

The second said:

“An ancient teaching says: to be consumed by women within the court, and by hunting beyond it; to drink to excess and become obsessed with music; to build lofty halls and adorn their walls—all these things lead to ruin. Anyone who indulges in even one of them is bound for destruction.”

The third said:

“Long ago, the Tao Tang clan—Yao, as tradition tells us—possessed the region around Ji. But now it has lost the right Way, thrown the governing order into confusion, and ended in ruin.”

The fourth said:

“How wise was our ancestor, once ruler of all the states! He left laws and standards for his descendants. The measures of weight and volume, and the standards of measurement, were rules by which the royal house governed the realm. If we abandon the work our ancestors left us, we will destroy our clan and bring our ancestral sacrifices to an end.”

The fifth said:

“Alas, where can we turn? Our hearts are filled with sorrow. The people all regard me as an enemy; on whom can I rely? Grief knots in my heart. My face is shameless, yet inwardly I am overcome with shame. If I do not carefully cultivate my Virtue, then even regret will come too late to undo the damage.”

The Hongdao lu says: Reading these five songs closely, one can feel the depth of their meaning and the sorrow of their feeling; their words are also restrained and richly suggestive.

Since the people had offered themselves to the former kings, I, the Grand Tutor, will not consider fleeing. I have resolved to stay and do all I can to assist the Shang king. If I cannot save the situation, I am still willing to answer for it before the former kings. I will not look to my own safety and run away.

Yi yielded the throne to Yu’s son Qi and went to live north of Mount Ji. People throughout the realm said, “He did this because Qi was virtuous and respectful.” Yi drove Qi’s sons across the Yellow River. Qi’s five sons composed the “Song of the Five Sons,” saying, “The people all regard me as an enemy.” This was because they had not carefully cultivated their De (Virtue). In view of this, although they had brought disaster upon themselves, Yi merely seized the opportunity to intervene. If there had been someone like Yi Yin of the Shang to assist the Xia, who could say that the dynasty could not have supported Taijia? Why, then, shut Qi’s sons out?

Above them stood the legacy left by Yu the Great and Qi; within the palace were five worthy sons and their mother. Though Yi’s schemes could not yet be put into action, they had already become difficult to uproot. Thus it is said, “Does resentment and disaster arise only where they are plainly visible? One must be even more alert to the beginnings that cannot be seen.” Alas, when a ruler lets his horses run wild and neglects state affairs, the foundations of the state begin to totter. Indulging in women, hunting, and amusements will ultimately bring the state to ruin. A thousand years have passed, yet whoever reads this and does not sigh deeply—what kind of heart can such a person have? What kind of heart can such a person have?

Weizi said, “Grand Tutor and Junior Tutor, I fear the Shang can no longer bring order to the four quarters and govern the realm. Our ancestors once brought peace to the state, and their achievements shone above; but I have sunk into drunkenness and damaged my De, throwing government into disorder below. Officials throughout the Shang, high and low, delight in theft, rebellion, and lawlessness. The ministers imitate one another in breaking the laws, and those who commit crimes often go unpunished. Now the people are rising up everywhere and turning against one another. The Shang is in danger of collapse, like someone trying to ford a great river but unable to find either a crossing or a shore. The Shang is doomed. Now, Grand Tutor and Junior Tutor, I fear I have lost my mind: we old members of this family should flee to some distant wilderness. You too are about to face ruin—what should you do?”

The Grand Tutor said, “Prince, Heaven has sent down calamity, and the state of Yin is in disorder. The country is sunk in drunkenness; people no longer revere what should be revered, and they defy their elders and former officials. Now the people of Yin even steal the pure-colored animals offered in sacrifice to the spirits, and go so far as to eat the offerings, thinking no disaster will befall them. Heaven watches over the people of Yin and makes them govern and punish one another. Like enemies, they hoard wealth and bring calamity upon themselves, without end. Their crimes have accumulated, and the people are suffering greatly, yet no one admonishes the king. The Shang is certain to meet with disaster. If we rise to assist it, we too will share in its ruin. If the Shang falls, I do not wish to become another state’s servant. I urge the prince to leave and escape the calamity. If you refuse to go, I too will be caught up in the ruin. Each of us must decide for ourselves and answer to the former kings. I will not consider fleeing to save myself.”

The commentary in the Hongdao lu says, “Consider this passage carefully. In the words ‘You too are about to face ruin—what should you do?’ the ‘you’ refers to the Grand Tutor and Junior Tutor. Weizi speaks this way to urge them to decide whether to stay or leave. As for ‘Each of us must decide for ourselves and answer to the former kings. I will not consider fleeing to save myself,’ these words show the Grand Tutor’s resolve to stay.”

“Tell the prince to leave. If the prince does not leave, I, Jizi, will suffer ruin.” These words mean: explain to the prince why he should depart; if he does not, I will be brought down by disaster. These two statements are the guiding principle of this chapter.

“Each person should settle his own course and offer himself to the former kings; I will not consider whether my conduct leads me into flight.” Here Jizi is saying what he himself should do. He is not saying that Weizi planned to preserve the ancestral temple and its sacrifices, offering himself to the former kings; that Bigan planned to remonstrate unto death, offering himself to the former kings; and that Jizi planned to feign madness, offering himself to the former kings. Jizi was King Zhou’s uncle and an elder of the Shang royal clan. The former kings’ relatives and dependents all looked to him. Weizi was King Zhou’s elder half-brother and the senior heir of Yin-Shang, entrusted to the care and protection of Emperor Yi.

Even if the ancestral state falls into turmoil, if the clan elder leaves, whom can the former kings rely on? If the heir to the ancestral line is destined to perish, and the senior heir does not leave, who will preserve the bloodline? This is why Jizi intended to “settle his own course and offer himself to the former kings.” At first, he did not consider whether his actions might bring the disaster of flight upon him. As for Bigan, although he too was King Zhou’s uncle, he was not a clan elder in the way Jizi was, nor was he an heir in the way Weizi was. If death was what he must face, then why plan for it in advance? The Collected Commentaries wonders why Bigan alone is left unexplained. Kong’s commentary says that the three men shared the same intention, so there was no need to explain it again. Alas, can that really count as an explanation?

The Duke of Zhou said: “Your Majesty, Heaven did not pity Yin, but brought down the calamity of its ruin. Yin has lost the Mandate of Heaven, and we Zhou have received it. I dare not claim that Yin’s foundations can remain secure for long and enjoy blessings forever; nor dare I claim that events must ultimately end in ill fortune. Alas, Your Majesty has already said, ‘This is my responsibility.’ I too dare not rest easy before the Mandate of Heaven, nor fail to remain in awe of Heaven’s might for all time. We, the people and ministers, have committed no offense and have not disobeyed Your Majesty. But if descendants in later generations fail to revere Heaven and Earth, they will cut off and lose the radiance of their forebears. Now I, Dan, alone can set this right, so that the radiance of our forebears may endure and be bestowed upon our young lord.

“Your Majesty, Heaven grants blessings and long life, allowing people to dwell in peace and harmony, and it also protected Shang. Yet the descendants of Shang caused Heaven’s might to fade. If you keep this in mind for a long time, you can secure the Mandate of Heaven, govern the realm, and bring our enterprise to prominence. Now I, Dan, am young, like someone who must cross a great river. If I go to assist you, Your Majesty, you will be able to make it through this crisis. Alas, it was because these two forebears, King Wen and King Wu, steadfastly supported us that we have arrived at the blessings we enjoy today. I will surely work diligently without slackening or becoming complacent, so that King Wen’s achievements may be brought to completion. From the farthest shores to the lands where the sun rises, there will be none who do not submit.”

Whenever I read “Lord Shi,” I cannot help rising to my feet and sighing deeply. The Duke of Shao was plainly the Duke of Zhou’s younger brother, yet the Duke of Zhou addressed him as “Lord Shi.” The Duke of Zhou was plainly the Duke of Shao’s elder brother, yet the Duke of Shao called him “young man.” Though both dukes were already advanced in years, their respect for each other never diminished. This shows how deep was their friendship: they supported one another and devoted themselves wholeheartedly to their shared responsibilities.

The Duke of Zhou remained at court to assist the king, while the Duke of Shao retired from office in his old age. Neither had the slightest selfish motive. Therefore, toward the ruler one should remain reverent and mindful at all times; toward the great affairs of state, one should strive to set them in order and attend to them with full care; in following Heaven’s will, one should understand its principles deeply and act with unwavering sincerity; and in regard to the Mandate of Heaven, one should recognize its clear and visible signs and do all one can to preserve it for the long term. Even when venerable ministers of great virtue hold office, state affairs may still become empty and careless.

During the reign of Emperor Zhezong of Song, Sima Guang and Gongzhu held power, while Fan Chunren served as a minister. After Empress Dowager Xuanren died, Zhezong recalled Zhang Dun and Cai Bian and appointed them to office. The empire fell into chaos, the fortunes of the Song dynasty declined, and the Mandate of Heaven departed. Readers will probably weep when they come to this passage; few, then, can read “Lord Shi” without feeling even greater sorrow.

“The Charge to Zhong of Cai” records that when the Duke of Zhou served as chief minister, directing the officials, his uncles spread rumors against him. The Duke of Zhou therefore punished Guan Shu according to the law and executed him in Shang; he imprisoned Cai Shu at Guolin and had him escorted there in a seven-carriage convoy; and he demoted Huo Shu to commoner status, refusing to employ him for three years. Later, Cai Zhong showed himself respectful and virtuous, so the Duke of Zhou appointed him as a high minister. Only after Cai Shu’s death did the Duke of Zhou instruct King Cheng of Zhou to enfeoff Cai Zhong in the state of Cai.

King Cheng said: “You, Hu, young man: you have renewed yourself, followed the Way of virtue, and acted with care. Therefore I command you to go east and receive your fief. Go and govern your state with reverence. Make amends for the faults of your predecessors. Be loyal and filial, begin with yourself, work diligently without slackening, and set an example for generations to come. Follow the established laws handed down by your grandfather, King Wen; do not, like your father, defy the king’s commands.

“Heaven does not favor anyone in particular; it assists only those who are virtuous. The people’s hearts have no fixed allegiance; they turn only toward those who show them kindness. Though the ways of doing good may differ, all lead to order; though the ways of doing evil may differ, all lead to disorder. Take this as a warning. Every undertaking needs a good beginning and a good ending. If you can bring it to a good conclusion, you will not fall into difficulty; if you disregard the outcome, you will eventually be reduced to hardship and destitution.

“Work diligently to achieve good results in your governance. Keep peace with neighboring states and serve as a shield for the royal house. Maintain harmony among your brothers, and comfort and aid the people. Govern by the balanced and upright Way. Do not presume to be clever and disrupt established practices. Observe carefully and listen to counsel; do not alter the laws because of biased opinions. If you can do these things, I will commend you.”

The Record of the Vast Way says: “When the Duke of Zhou enfeoffed Cai Zhong, how could he be compared with Qingfu, a descendant of Ji You…”

His father, Duke Zhuang of Lu, believed slander and ordered the rumors suppressed. Later, when Guan Zhong was under duress, he imprisoned him. Did that mean the sacrifices to Guan Zhong should be discontinued? Duke Huan of Qi not only bore no grudge over the past, but appointed him as a high minister. His mind was as broad as Heaven and Earth, the sun and moon. It was for this reason that, in less than a day, order and clarity prevailed throughout the realm.

The Zuo Tradition records: Duke Zhuang of Lu had no legitimate son. He once built a terrace at the home of the Dang family, where he saw Meng Ren and fell in love with her. Meng Ren gave birth to Ziban, and Duke Zhuang wanted to make him his heir. He asked Shuya for advice. Shuya said, “Lu has always followed the succession custom in which a younger brother succeeds his elder brother. Qingfu is still here, so what is there for you to worry about?” After Shuya left, Duke Zhuang asked Jiyou. Jiyou said, “I am willing to give my life in support of Ziban.”

Duke Zhuang said to Jiyou, “What should be done about Shuya?” Jiyou then falsely claimed to be acting on the duke’s orders and sent someone to tell Shuya to wait at the home of Zhen Wushi. Jiyou next had Zhen Ji bring Shuya a cup of poisoned wine and say, “Drink this, and your descendants can remain in Lu. If you refuse, your line will end when you die.” Shuya drank the wine and died when he reached Daquan. His son was later established as the ancestor of the Shusun clan.

After Duke Zhuang died, Jiyou installed Ziban as ruler. Qingfu, however, sent someone to the Dang family home to kill Ziban, then installed Prince Kai, who became Duke Min of Lu. Ai Jiang and Qingfu conspired to kill Duke Min and wanted Qingfu to take the throne. Qingfu then sent Bu Yi to kill Duke Min at Wuwei. Jiyou fled with Duke Min’s elder brother, Shen, to the state of Zhu. The people of Lu refused to install Qingfu, who grew afraid and fled to Ju. Jiyou returned and installed Shen as Duke Xi of Lu, then offered gifts to Ju in exchange for Qingfu’s return. Ju sent Qingfu back to Lu. When Qingfu reached Mi, he sent Prince Yu to plead for him, but Duke Xi refused. Prince Yu left in tears. Hearing him cry, Qingfu said, “That is the voice of Xisi.” He then hanged himself. His descendants later became the Meng clan.

The Hongdao Lu says: “When I consider Jiyou’s actions, they seem to have been taken in a perilous situation. Even when he sought to achieve something, he could gain only a small advantage; he had not yet truly understood the greater right. Duke Ding of Zhu once said, ‘When a minister kills his ruler, every official serving in government should execute him without pardon. His house should also be demolished, his palace razed, and the place left bare.’ Though Zhu was a small state, it treated the crime of regicide with great severity. Could a great state like Lu really have been unaware of this principle? Because the greater right was not understood, people later killed Eji and Shi. It is no surprise that one upheaval followed another. Thus the Spring and Autumn Annals records only that Qingfu fled, without stating plainly how he died. The Sage had his reasons for this.”

The Duke of Song sent Duke Wen of Zhu to sacrifice the ruler of Zeng at the Du of Cixi, hoping thereby to bring the eastern Yi peoples under his allegiance. Sima Ziyu said, “In ancient times, people did not use one of the six domestic animals as a sacrifice to another. Minor rites did not call for a great sacrificial animal; how much less could anyone dare to sacrifice a human being? Sacrifice is meant to benefit people…”

“Spirits preside over sacrificial rites. If people like these are put in charge, who will come to partake of the offerings?” Duke Huan of Qi once preserved three states that had already fallen and restored them to their lords. Even so, men of principle considered his virtue shallow. Now, in a single covenanting meeting, he has brought harm upon the rulers of two states and appointed licentious, benighted spirits. Can he really hope to establish hegemony this way? It will be difficult indeed. To preserve his own life would already count as good fortune.

The people of Song laid siege to Cao. Ziyu, a senior official of Song, said to the Duke of Song: “When King Wen of Zhou heard that Chong had become corrupt, he sent out an army to punish it. After besieging the state for thirty days without securing its surrender, King Wen withdrew his troops, put his teachings in order, and then marched again. Only then was Chong destroyed. The Book of Songs says: ‘First bring your wife under the influence of ritual and law; then extend this to your brothers, and thereby govern your family and state.’ Your virtue, my lord, may still be deficient, yet you would punish others. How can this be right? Why not first examine your own conduct at home? Once you yourself are free of faults, then take action.”

The Hongdao lu comments: The Spring and Autumn Annals censures families that held high office across generations. Ziyu’s family had served as Left Counselors for generations—how could he be considered insignificant? His ancestor, the former lord of Shang, could not bear to catch birds in a net. Yet now people would use human beings in place of sacrificial animals. The people, suffering through a long drought, longed for clouds and rain as if their lives depended on them. Yet now they would use force to coerce the people. Confucius once rebuked Zai Wo for proposing words that would make the people tremble. When Boyi assisted Yu the Great, he made the cultivation of civil virtue and the spread of instruction his chief concern. Did Ziyu’s remonstrance perhaps carry on the legacy of the sages? It is a pity that his words could not persuade the Duke of Song to heed them.

In the winter of the seventeenth year of Duke Xuan’s reign, on the renwu day of the eleventh month, the duke’s younger brother Shuxi died. Why does the Spring and Autumn Annals call him “the duke’s brother”? Because it approves of him. Why does it approve of him? Because he opposed Duke Xuan’s murder of his ruler and seizure of the throne. If he opposed it, why did he not leave? Someone might say, “He was his brother. How could he leave?” Shuxi handed his possessions over to Duke Xuan and said, “I have enough already.” After that, he made his living by weaving straw sandals and never accepted a stipend from Duke Xuan. Gentlemen judged that he had honored family affection without accepting ill-gotten wealth, and had handled both kindness and duty with balance. That is why the Spring and Autumn Annals commends him.

The Hongdao lu comments: Was Shuxi not a man of integrity? Xiang Zhong murdered the ruler, and Duke Xuan seized the throne for himself; these men were his sworn enemies. Had Shuxi possessed power like Jiyou, he might have driven out Ya and installed Duke Min, or put the Meng clan to death and supported Duke Xi. But he did none of these things. Because of the bond between brothers, he was instead willing to serve his enemies, letting them trample upon and kill him. What, then, did the sage approve of in him? He approved that Shuxi took no ill-gotten possessions and ate no food gained by injustice. He had neither incurred suspicion of abandoning his elder brother and leaving his mother, nor failed inwardly to accept a poor life; he did not covet glory or wealth. Shuxi’s character was far beyond that of ordinary people. How could he be compared with Zhongzi of Yiling, renowned for his proud withdrawal from worldly life?

Cao Zijang, whose personal name was Xinshi, was a concubine-born son of Duke Xuan of Lu. Duke Xuan had once joined forces with the state of Jin to attack Qin, and later died in the army. The people of Cao appointed Prince Fuchu to remain in the state and sent Zijang to meet Duke Xuan’s coffin. Fuchu killed the heir apparent and made himself ruler; this was Duke Cheng of Cao. The other feudal lords all called for him to be punished. Zijang considered Duke Cheng unjust and prepared to flee the state. When the people heard of this, many followed Zijang and left with him. Duke Cheng grew afraid, admitted his wrongdoing in person, and asked Zijang to stay. Only then did Zijang return, surrendering his fief to the state.

The following year, Duke Cheng met with the feudal lords in an alliance at Qi. The Marquis of Jin detained him and sent him to the Zhou royal court. The feudal lords all regarded Zijang as virtuous and planned to go to the Zhou court to recommend him as ruler. Zijang declined, saying, “An ancient book says: ‘The sage understands affairs and can adapt to the times; the next best person keeps to his proper place; the lowest loses his integrity.’ Becoming ruler is incompatible with the integrity I must uphold. Though I cannot be a sage, how could I dare abandon what I am bound to uphold?” He then fled to the state of Song.

Three years later, the people of Cao petitioned Jin. The Marquis of Jin told them, “If Zijang returns, I will send your ruler back to you.” With no choice, Zijang returned to Cao and awaited Jin’s decision. Before long, the people of Jin petitioned the Zhou court in turn, and Duke Cheng was allowed to return home. Zijang then surrendered his entire fief and relinquished all his positions of authority, never again taking office for the rest of his life.

The Record comments: What is meant by “Restraint” (jie)—moderation and stopping—is that when things have already fallen into disorder, one should seek to bring them to a halt and draw them back together. That is why the Restraint hexagram in the Book of Changes follows the Dispersion hexagram: “Dispersion” means things are scattered, while “Restraint” means gathering them back and stopping the scattering. The hexagram image says, “Do not go beyond the courtyard gate; know when the way is open and when it is blocked.” This means that without leaving the gate or courtyard, one can understand when the way is clear and when it is obstructed.

Fuchu’s crimes reached up to Heaven. He lost the people’s support and was spurned by the allied feudal lords. His situation was nothing like that of Duke Xuan, who took the throne by killing the heir apparent without drawing objection from the people or opposition from the feudal lords. Why did those who governed not act while the people were united and the feudal lords agreed that Fuchu was guilty, and ask the Son of Heaven to punish him for murdering the heir apparent? This would have punished crimes within the palace, restored ethical order from collapse, and brought the right way between Heaven and Earth back into the light. Would this not have been an act of Restraint?

Zijang did not understand this principle. He held only to his own small, personal sense of trustworthiness, and as a result allowed an obvious great evil to spread unchecked. Heaven’s punishment was on the verge of being carried out, yet was obstructed; human selfish desires grew more unrestrained and ever harder to control. From then on, rebellious ministers and treacherous sons appeared one after another in later generations. Did Mencius not say that Zhongzi considered the state of Qi unjust and would refuse it even if it were offered to him—and that everyone believed he would indeed do so? Yet this amounted only to his giving up a small measure of righteousness, like refusing a basket of food or a bowl of soup. It is a pity that no one at the time used this principle to rebuke Zijang.

Jizha was the youngest son of King Shoumeng of Wu. Shoumeng had four sons: the eldest, Zhufan, followed by Yujì and Yumei, with Jizha the youngest. Jizha was wise and capable, and Shoumeng wanted to make him king, but Jizha declined. Zhufan therefore succeeded to the throne and temporarily took charge of state affairs.

When Zhufan’s mourning period ended, he followed his father’s final instruction and offered the throne to Jizha. He explained, “When Duke Xuan of Cao died, the other lords and the people of Cao thought that the new ruler of Cao was unfit to rule. They wanted to install Zizang, but Zizang left Cao in order to uphold the ruler’s position. Confucius praised him for holding fast to duty and integrity. You are the rightful successor to the throne. Who would dare oppose you? If I keep this state for myself, I will fail in my own duty. Though I am not worthy, I hope to follow Zizang’s example.” The people of Wu insisted that Jizha take the throne, so he left home and went to farm. Only then did Zhufan give up.

After Zhufan died, Yujì succeeded him. He intended to pass the throne from brother to brother and, in the end, handed it to Jizha to fulfill their father’s wish. Yujì died after seventeen years on the throne, and his younger brother Yumei succeeded him. When Yumei died, he too wanted to give the throne to Jizha. But Jizha fled Wu, and the people of Wu made Liao, Yumei’s son, king.

Zhufan’s son Guang believed that his father had arranged for the brothers to succeed one another so that the throne would eventually pass to Jizha. Since Jizha refused to accept it, Guang thought he should take the throne himself. He sent men to kill Liao and proclaimed himself king. This was Helü. When Jizha returned from Jin, he said, “As long as the sacrifices to the former rulers continue, the people have not been left without a ruler, someone still performs the rites to the altars of state, and the country has not fallen, then that man is my ruler. Whom could I blame? I will mourn the dead, serve the one who now holds power, and await Heaven’s decree. I did not bring about this disorder. Following the customs of our forebears is the proper course.” He went to Liao’s tomb, wept and made his declaration, then returned to his former post and awaited what fate would bring.

The Hongdao Lu comments: “How can Jizha’s refusal of the throne be compared with Zizang of Cao? Zhufan had no intention of usurping the throne. He gave it up out of respect for his father’s command. When Jizha said, ‘You are the rightful successor to the throne. Who would dare oppose you?’ he was giving greater weight to the bonds of kinship between father and son, and between brothers. After that, Yujì and then Yumei succeeded in turn. Who could say this was improper? The problem was that King Liao refused to accept this arrangement. King Liao bears responsibility for provoking Guang to usurp the throne; the ministers and people of Wu cannot be said to be entirely blameless either. It is wrong to claim that Jizha’s refusal to accept the throne caused the later struggle over succession.”

Moreover, Shoumeng’s wish to pass the throne to Jizha did not arise from the supreme virtue seen in the Zhou dynasty. Shoumeng had initially assumed the title of king, yet wanted Jizha to follow the examples of the Duke of Zhou in assisting the royal house and King Wen in inheriting Heaven’s mandate. This was precisely what filled Jizha with deep apprehension. He kept his thoughts obscure and did not speak them aloud, so no one else understood them. Only Jizha himself knew.

How could he not repeatedly keep his intentions hidden? I believe Confucius valued Jizha so highly precisely because Jizha had a purpose in mind but did not speak of it.

(After Jizha died, Confucius inscribed his tombstone: “Alas, this is the tomb of Jizi of Yanling.” That was exactly what he meant.)

Xinghou of Jin and Yongzi had long disputed the fields of Chu, but the case had never been settled. After Shi Jingbo left for Chu, Shuyu took over the case. Han Xuanzi ordered him to hear the old dispute, and he ruled that Yongzi was at fault. Yongzi then offered his daughter to Shuyu, who took his side and assigned the blame to Xinghou. Enraged, Xinghou killed both Shuyu and Yongzi at court. Han Xuanzi asked Shuxiang to assess the guilt of the three men. Shuxiang said, “Their guilt is equal. It is acceptable to sentence one to death and the other two to posthumous punishment. Yongzi knew he was guilty yet bribed his way to a favorable judgment; Shuyu (whose given name was Fu) sold justice and perverted the law; Xinghou took a life on his own authority. Xinghou should be executed, and the bodies of Yongzi and Shuyu should be displayed in the marketplace.” Confucius said, “Shuxiang was an upright man of the old tradition. In administering punishment, he did not conceal the guilt of those close to him. Shuyu’s wrongdoing was so grave, and Shuxiang did not lessen the penalty in the slightest to spare anyone’s feelings. This was the very meaning of righteousness.”

The Hongdao lu comments: “In the past, when Shuxiang remonstrated with his mother, she said, ‘I fear I have given birth to a dragon or a snake,’ and also, ‘A wolf cub will have a wolf’s ambitions.’ How unfortunate the Yangshe clan was to have such descendants! The wolf is naturally greedy, and the snake naturally fierce. At the time, no one had yet taught Shuyu, so his wicked conduct went unchecked. By the time Yongzi brought disaster upon himself, all three kinds of evil were present. Even if Shuxiang had wanted to lessen their sentences, on what grounds could he have done so?”

The Former Book of Han records: Liu Zhang, Marquis of Zhuxu, grew angry when he saw the Lü clan monopolizing power and the Liu clan barred from office. Once, while attending a banquet in the palace, he volunteered, “I am the descendant of a military family. I ask permission to enforce the drinking rules according to military law.” One of the Lü clan members became drunk and tried to evade the rules. Liu Zhang drew his sword, pursued him, and killed him. Empress Lü had already given him permission to enforce military law, so she could not punish him. From then on, the Lü clan feared the Marquis of Zhuxu, while the Liu clan grew steadily stronger.

The Hongdao lu comments: “Empress Wu had the entire Tang imperial clan put to death, while Empress Lü did not kill the Marquis of Zhuxu because Qi could serve as a stronghold. Seen in this light, the Lü clan can be said to have had no strategy at all. They relied only on family ties to win people over, without realizing that those they sought to draw close were moved by something other than kinship. They relied only on military strength to bolster the Lü clan, without realizing that military strength alone could not make the clan secure. Thus, troops could be taken away, but Liu Zhang’s resolve could not; military force could be relied upon, but not Guan Ying’s plans. By then, the Lü clan had no way forward.”

The Later Book of Han records: As the reputations of Emperor Guangwu and his elder brother Liu Yan continued to rise, after the Xinshi and Pinglin rebel forces had been subdued…

Several generals privately urged Emperor Gengshi to get rid of Liu Yan. Around that time, Liu Ji, one of his officers, heard that Emperor Gengshi had taken the throne and said angrily, “It was the brothers Bosheng who first raised an army to pursue great plans. Who is this Emperor Gengshi supposed to be?” Emperor Gengshi arrested Liu Ji and prepared to execute him. Liu Yan argued fiercely on Liu Ji’s behalf, but Li Yi and Song Wei urged the emperor to use the occasion to arrest Liu Yan as well. Liu Yan was killed that very day.

Officials under Liu Xiu came to offer condolences, but he avoided speaking with them in private and kept his distance. He did not dare to mourn Liu Yan openly, either. Whenever he was alone, Liu Xiu refused wine and meat and would not lie down with his head on a pillow; he often wept and shed tears. Only Feng Yi, his chief clerk, tried to comfort him. Liu Xiu stopped him, saying, “Do not speak carelessly.” Feng Yi then advised him: “Emperor Gengshi’s government is in disarray, and the people have no one they can rely on or support. They have long been hungry and thirsty, and will readily accept whatever can satisfy them here and now. You now govern a region and can make decisions on its affairs. Send your officers to inspect the commanderies and counties, and proclaim your benevolence and virtue.” Liu Xiu took his advice deeply to heart.

The Record comments: The first six line of the Water hexagram in the Book of Changes says, “Repeatedly falling into pits, and sinking into a deep pit: danger.” The Image commentary explains: “Repeatedly falling into pits, and sinking into a deep pit is dangerous because the right path has been lost.” Liu Yan was fond of chivalrous deeds and acted rashly. Living in an age when rebellions and disorder were breaking out everywhere, he seemed continually to be falling into danger. Liu Xiu and Liu Yan both possessed the qualities of Han Gaozu, combining firmness with flexibility. Yet the way of gentle conduct had not been established, and there was no support from above. How could Liu Xiu possibly have rescued Bosheng from danger? Liu Yan’s death, then, had its causes from the outset.

Yet Liu Xiu’s signs also corresponded to another meaning of the first six line of the Water hexagram: “In danger, yet holding fast to sincerity; the heart is open. To continue forward brings a gain.” Liu Xiu had the ability to be resolute while keeping to the center, and Feng Yi was a thoughtful, steady counselor. By continuing forward, Liu Xiu would eventually accomplish great things. That is why Feng Yi’s advice was readily accepted, and why Liu Xiu took it deeply to heart. This was precisely what it meant to remain sincere while in danger. Later, Liu Xiu joined the Han house with wholehearted sincerity, eventually winning great merit and receiving honors. Was that not the result of an open heart?

Liu Yu was a great-grandson of Emperor Xuan of Han. Emperor Xuan enfeoffed his son Liu Xiao in the land of Chu, giving him the title of Filial Prince. The Filial Prince’s son was Prince Si, Liu Yan; Liu Yan’s son was Liu Yu, and Liu Yu’s son was Liu Ban. From Liu Xiao to Liu Ban, each generation built up a legacy of benevolence and righteousness, and was known for its good name and integrity. Liu Yu was especially kind and generous.

Liu Yu lost his mother at an early age. His younger brother by the same mother, Liu Ping, Marquis of Yuanxiang, was still a child, so Liu Yu raised him himself. They often slept in the same bed and shared their food, and Liu Yu never left his side until Liu Ping came of age. When Liu Ping died of illness, Liu Yu grieved and wept so bitterly that he vomited blood. He died several months later.

Later, Emperor Guangwu enfeoffed Liu Ban as Marquis of Ziqiu and appointed him to perform the ancestral rites for the Filial Prince. Emperor Ming of Han summoned Liu Ban to serve as Commandant of the Capital and concurrently as Colonel of the Garrison Cavalry. Emperor Zhang of Han later appointed him Lesser Treasurer of Changle and Minister of the Clan. During his service, Liu Ban repeatedly offered advice on state affairs. He took in and cared for relatives of the imperial clan, and was especially renowned for putting benevolence and righteousness into practice. People of the time praised him.

Hongdao lu records that the court at the time strongly promoted humility and harmony among brothers. It held that these virtues should be cultivated within the clan and then spread throughout the realm. How could one fail to become a person who acts in accordance with what is right? Compared with this prevailing spirit, the stories of people fighting over a few dou of grain or a bolt of cloth seem far removed indeed. The accounts of Du Lin and the Zhao brothers were therefore recorded.

Du Lin and his younger brother Du Cheng (the original text gives his name simply as “Cheng”) both loved learning. They were widely read and had extensive knowledge of the world, and people of the time called them learned Confucian scholars. In the turmoil at the end of Wang Mang’s reign, when rebels and bandits were everywhere, Du Lin took refuge in Hexi. When Wei Xiao heard that Du Lin was resolute and steadfast in his principles, he greatly respected him and appointed him to an official post managing documents.

Later, once the realm had been pacified, Du Lin asked to resign on account of illness. He gave up his stipend and prepared to return home. Wei Xiao wanted to keep him by force, so Du Lin claimed that his illness was severe. Although Wei Xiao hoped he would stay, he tried to be as accommodating as he could. At last he issued an order: “A man like Du Bolin (Du Lin, whose courtesy name was Bolin) cannot be treated by the Son of Heaven as a subject, nor by a feudal lord as an ordinary friend. Bo Yi and Shu Qi were ashamed to eat the grain of the Zhou. For now, I shall place Du Lin among my teachers and friends. When the Way of right conduct is clear and the time is right, I will let him do as he wishes.”

Although Du Lin was under Wei Xiao’s control, he never submitted or compromised his integrity. Later, when a death in his family gave him reason to leave, he was permitted to return east. After letting him go, Wei Xiao regretted it and sent the assassin Yang Xian after him, intending to intercept and kill him on the road. Yang Xian saw Du Lin pushing a deer cart himself, carrying his younger brother’s coffin, and exclaimed, “Who in the world today could put what is right into practice like this? Though I am a petty man, how could I bring myself to kill a man of such integrity?” He then fled.

When Emperor Guangwu heard what had happened, he summoned Du Lin and appointed him Palace Attendant Censor. The emperor received him and asked about the classics, past events, and conditions in the western regions. He was very pleased with Du Lin’s answers. Later, when Crown Prince Liu Jiang asked to be enfeoffed as King of Donghai, the court selected new officials for his staff and appointed Du Lin as his tutor, granting him a special reward. Du Lin eventually became Grand Minister of Works and earned praise for his competence.

The brothers Zhao Xiao and Zhao Li were humble, affectionate toward one another, and steadfast in their conduct. During the great disorder, the terrible practice of cannibalism arose. Zhao Li was captured by bandits, who planned to boil and eat him. Zhao Xiao bound himself and presented himself to the bandits, asking to be boiled in his brother’s place. The bandits found this extraordinary and spared them both. Everyone in their community admired their devotion to what was right. The prefecture and commandery repeatedly summoned the brothers, but neither answered the summons.

During the Yongping era, Emperor Ming, Liu Zhuang, heard of Zhao Xiao’s reputation and issued an edict appointing him Grandee for Remonstrance. He was later promoted to Palace Attendant and Commandant of the Changle Guards. The court also summoned his younger brother Zhao Li and appointed him Chief Censor. The emperor wished to show them special favor, so he ordered Zhao Li to visit the Commandant’s office once every ten days. The court kitchens sent food for them, allowing the brothers to meet and enjoy themselves together. A few years later, Zhao Li died. The emperor ordered Zhao Xiao to accompany the funeral with his staff and arranged for him to be buried with due ceremony. Later, when Zhao Xiao had no sons, the court appointed Zhao Li’s two sons as gentlemen of the palace.

Hongdao lu says: “I believe that Du Lin was first retained by Wei Xiao because bandits were causing disorder, and later faced an attempted robbery and murder on the road—yet escaped through Yang Xian’s act of righteousness. As for the two Zhao brothers, when life and death hung in the balance…”

At the time, who could have imagined that Deng You, as Tutor to the Heir Apparent—a post responsible for instructing the crown prince—and a high-ranking official serving the ruler or crown prince, would act in this way, despite his age and eminent position? He was willing to give up his own son to save his nephew, thereby leaving himself without descendants. His righteous deed quickly became known, and many people followed his example. Although people were persuaded by his conduct, in truth Heaven was also helping bring this about. Otherwise, how could assassins and people starving to death, among others, have willingly followed such an act of righteousness? That Deng You remained without descendants all his life was indeed a rare occurrence.

The Book of Jin records: Deng You, Right Assistant Director, fell within the sphere of Shi Le’s power toward the end of the Yongjia era. At the time, he was fleeing with his wife and children, who rode on oxen and horses. They encountered bandits, who seized the animals, and so the family had to continue on foot. Deng carried his own son and also took along his younger brother’s son, Sui. Seeing that he could not save both children, he said to his wife, “My younger brother died young, and this is his only surviving bloodline. We must not let it end. We have no choice but to abandon my son. If we survive, I can have another child in the future.” His wife wept as she agreed. They set their own son down and left. In the end, Deng You had no descendants. People of the time respected and pitied him, and made up a saying: “Heaven’s Way is blind: it has left Deng Bodao without a son.” His younger brother’s son, Sui, mourned Deng You for three years.

The Hongdao lu comments: People have felt Deng You’s anguish for a thousand years. The histories say that he had tied the child to himself beforehand so the child could not run off. Could that truly have been the intention of a loving father and benevolent man? Rather than say Heaven’s Way is blind, we should say it is in fact aware. I believe this account may not reflect what really happened. After Deng You was captured by Shi Le, he twice came close to death. Later, when Shi Le passed through the Si River region, Deng You damaged his cart and escaped with his wife and children riding on oxen and horses. From this, we can infer that pursuers must have been close behind, searching for them. His own son was older and more aware, while his nephew was younger and less aware. Perhaps he left his nephew behind and took his own son with him in order to slow the pursuers and avoid being recognized by them. His action, then, was not motivated by a sense of duty alone. As for his having no descendants in the end, perhaps that was his allotted fate—a misfortune for a gentleman. If we condemn Deng You for it, people may no longer be willing to act righteously. This is precisely the point of this book.

Yu Gun was the paternal uncle of Empress Mingmu, née Lü. From childhood, he was diligent and frugal, devoted to study, and eager to seek instruction from others. During the great epidemic in the Xian’ning era, his two elder brothers died, and his second elder brother, Pi, also fell critically ill. With the epidemic raging, his parents and younger brothers left home to take shelter elsewhere; only Yu Gun stayed behind alone. He cared for the sick himself, going without sleep day and night. During this time, he also comforted the dead and kept vigil beside them in mourning, never once leaving.

After more than ten weeks—over a month—the epidemic had subsided, and the family returned. Pi recovered from his illness, and Gun remained unharmed. Several of Gun’s uncles were wealthy and prominent, while his father continued to live simply and frugally. Gun cultivated the fields himself to support his parents, and carried out his duties with care and diligence. When he and his disciples were building a fence, he would kneel to hand branches to them. Someone said, “Now that you live in a quiet, secluded place, why show such deference?” Gun replied, “Whether in seclusion or in a position of prominence, one should not change one’s principles. This is not what a gentleman strives for.”

Gun’s wives all came from official families, yet after marrying him they gave up a luxurious life and shared his poverty contentedly. When his mother died, Gun kept vigil beside her grave. Someone cut down a cypress tree near the tomb, and he bowed his head and wept, blaming himself: “I have not cultivated my Virtue well enough to protect the trees planted by my ancestors.” The elders and villagers wept for him. From then on, no one disturbed the graveyard. The local community and the prefecture repeatedly recommended him for posts such as Filial and Incorrupt (a Han-era recommendation category for people known for filial conduct and integrity), but he refused to yield or abandon his convictions. For this he was called a man of “exceptional conduct.”

When Prince of Qi Sima Jiong raised an army to suppress those who had seized control of the government, Zhang Hong and others plundered Yangdi. Gun led people from his own clan and other families to take refuge and hold their ground on Mount Yu. The people had lived peacefully for a long time and did not know how to fight or defend themselves. Gun said, “The ancients said that if a thousand people gather without anyone to lead them, their ranks will fall into disorder even if they do not scatter.” The people replied, “Who could lead us now, if not you?” Gun then made an agreement with them: “Do not use the terrain to bully others, or take advantage of the turmoil to cause trouble. Do not harass your neighbors or tear down their homes. Do not cut down trees planted by others. Let your plans accord with Virtue and your actions with what is right. Work together and we will get through this crisis.” They all followed his instructions.

When the raiders arrived, Gun organized his men and formed their ranks. He ordered everyone to draw their bows but not to shoot. Impressed by their restraint and intimidated by the order of their formation, the raiders withdrew. People of the time praised him, saying, “Only when the weather turns cold do we learn that the pines and cypresses are the last to shed their leaves.” They also said, “If one acts with care and plans well, one can bring things to completion. Is this not precisely what made Gun exceptional?”

The Hongdao Record comments: “I see that the customs of the Jin dynasty had fallen into decline, yet a man of such outstanding character as Gun emerged. Does his very presence not shame those who, in public, had cause to feel guilty before the Eight Princes, and, in private, before Pei and Wei? Does it not also leave those who were ashamed of Yuan Gui in life and of Shu Yu after death without a place to hide? Gun endured just one illness before revealing the hardiness of pines and cypresses in the cold. Yet some lived through the Rebellion of the Eight Princes and still failed to recognize the loyal ministers who could have rescued the crisis. The difference between them was greater than that between heaven and earth. Everyone else became wealthy and prominent, while only Gun’s father remained poor; what a gulf separates him from those whose desires were never satisfied and whose greed knew no end. Gun’s care and sound judgment in times of crisis enabled him to succeed. How different he was from those who rashly stirred up calamity, made shallow plans, and provoked conflict. Gun did not change his principles whether he lived in seclusion or in a position of prominence, and he carried out his duties with diligence and care. How different he was from those who plotted poisonously against one another, acted with malice and treachery, and gave themselves over to reckless excess…”

What need is there to distinguish between north and south? From this we can see that as ghosts and demons appear one after another, upright and noble virtue shines all the more clearly; as disgraceful deeds spread far and wide, bright and honest character stands out all the more distinctly. Without someone like Shubao, how could one speak of the sun and moon of the Jin dynasty? (The opening seems to continue a preceding passage, and the original meaning is incomplete; the identity of “Shubao” also needs to be determined from the earlier context.)

The History of the Southern Dynasties records that Xie Hongwei, who lived from the Eastern Jin into the Liu Song, was dignified and cautious from a young age. His uncle Xie Hun, whose courtesy name was Shuyuan, saw him and recognized that he was exceptional. “This child is deep-hearted and naturally intelligent,” he said. “He will surely amount to something.”

When Xie Hongwei was ten, he was adopted by his father’s younger cousin, Xie Jun, the second son of Sima Xie Yan. Though Xie Hongwei and Xie Jun were only distant relatives and had not known each other before, he immediately took up his place in the family, observing all that ritual and reason required. In the early years of the Yixi era, he inherited Xie Jun’s title and became Marquis of Jianchang County.

Xie Hongwei’s family had always lived modestly, but the estate and income he inherited after his adoption were substantial. He made no use of any of these resources for himself. Xie Hun was refined and aloof, and seldom associated with others. He kept company only with the younger members of the clan: Xie Lingyun, heir to the title Duke of Kangle; Xie Zhan; Xie Yao; and Xie Hongwei. Together they appreciated literature and discussed principle. They often gathered for feasts in Wuyi Lane, and their circle came to be known as “the gatherings of Wuyi.” Apart from them, even people of great renown did not dare to call on the family without invitation.

Xie Zhan and the others excelled in literature and spoke with quick wit, but Xie Hongwei often won them over with his concise words. Xie Hun especially respected him and called him “Master Wei.”

Later, Xie Hun was executed for having allied himself with Liu Yi. The court issued an edict severing Princess Jinling’s marriage ties with the Xie family and ordering her to marry into the Langya Wang family. It also entrusted the Xie household’s affairs to Xie Hongwei. For generations, the Xies had held the highest offices; two members of the clan had been ennobled. They owned more than ten estates and had as many as a thousand household servants. Xie Hun had only two daughters.

Xie Hongwei managed the family estate as carefully as he would conduct public business. Every income and expense, down to a single coin or a foot of cloth, was entered in the account books. After Gaozu, Liu Yu, ascended the throne, he allowed the princess to return to the Xie family, recognizing her steadfast loyalty and resolve. Nine years had passed since Xie Hun’s death. The Xie residence remained in good repair, its storehouses were full, its household retainers and workers were as numerous as before, and more land had been brought under cultivation than ever.

The princess sighed and said, “My husband, the Vice Director Xie, valued this child throughout his life. He truly knew how to recognize people. Though the Vice Director has passed away, it is as if he never left us.”

Relatives by blood or marriage, as well as old friends, whether monks or laypeople, could not help sighing when they saw the princess’s circumstances. Some even wept as they entered the house. They were all moved by Xie Hongwei’s devotion.

The Hongdao lu comments: “When I consider the circle that gathered in Wuyi Lane, they were truly like fragrant orchids and fine jade trees, shining brightly in their age. Shuyuan, Xie Hun, had discernment; Kangle, Xie Lingyun, had exceptional talent; Xuanyuan, Xie Zhan, was clear-minded and perceptive; Xuanming, Xie Yao, was outstanding and capable. Yet none of them met a good end. Only ‘Master Wei,’ Xie Hongwei, was without fault. Why was this? The Book of Changes, in the ‘Small Exceeding’ hexagram, says: ‘He does not meet…’”

The various scholars of Qing were not lacking in talent. They were capable in their work, yet all were forceful and impatient, proud of their own vigor, reliant on their abilities, and insufficiently steadfast in their conduct. They violated reason and acted to excess, thereby bringing calamity upon themselves. This is what the text means by “a bird that flies beyond its mark meets with misfortune.”

If Weiwei (the name of a person referred to here) was upright by nature and careful in cultivating himself through his conduct, he served his stepmother with even greater devotion than he would have shown his birth mother. He was reverent within, in communion with the spirits; outwardly cautious, he did not laugh or speak lightly. He was incorruptible and keenly aware of shame, seldom quarreled with others, and kept his conduct proper. As the Analects says: “Excessive respectfulness, excessive grief at funerals, and excessive frugality in daily life.” How could someone like this fail to be treated well wherever he went?

Hongdao lu, juan 23