《弘道錄》Vol. 23

Historical records from the Song dynasty state that Emperor Taizu often read the “Canon of Yao” and the “Canon of Shun.” He once sighed, “In the age of Yao and Shun, even the Four Criminals—the legendary four evildoers—were punished only by exile. Why has the law become so severe in recent times?” He therefore established a rule: officials were not to be flogged within the palace steps, nor were high ministers and senior officials to be insulted. From the Kaibao era onward, even those who committed capital offenses could often escape execution, provided their crimes were not exceptionally heinous. Only officials who took bribes and perverted the law were executed in public marketplaces, and they were never pardoned.

The Hongdao lu comments: This was the Song dynasty’s ancestral rule for governing the state, more generous than that of the Han and Tang, and few later dynasties could match it. Ritual propriety, righteousness, integrity, and a sense of shame were the foundations by which rulers inspired the people and upheld social order. They enabled even the declining age to aspire to the flourishing times of the Three Dynasties—the Xia, Shang, and Zhou. They distinguished scholar-officials from commoners, human beings from beasts, and exemplary gentlemen from ordinary people. Their significance was profound. Punishment was especially severe for officials who took bribes and perverted the law: once convicted, they were generally shown no mercy. Thus, throughout the Song dynasty, when ministers committed offenses that did not involve bribery and corruption, the law might require their exile, yet the ruler would often personally arrange a better place for them to live. There are no accounts of anyone being beaten to death or, after execution, suffering an unjust accusation. Was this not due to the forebears’ generous intentions and their descendants’ skill in upholding the law?

On one occasion, Emperor Taizong summoned the Hanlin academician Dou Yi to draft an edict. As Dou approached the garden gate, he saw the emperor sitting there bareheaded and barefoot. He stepped aside and refused to enter. Taizong hurriedly fetched a cap and sash and put them on properly; only then did he invite Dou inside. Dou Yi then advised him, “Your Majesty has founded an enterprise and must pass it down to posterity. You should make ritual propriety an example for all under Heaven. I fear that when outstanding men hear of this, they will lose confidence.” Taizong apologized to him with a solemn expression. From then on, whenever he received his close ministers, he was always properly dressed.

The Hongdao lu comments: The emperor restrained his desires not because the ancients had many desires. On that occasion, he happened to be bareheaded and barefoot; afterward, he fetched his cap and sash and composed himself. Both actions came from his own heart and were not contrived. Dou Yi was renowned for his sincerity and composure; how could he have allowed his sovereign to fall into a state of disrespect? Perhaps he stood aside and refused to enter precisely to uphold his own principles. Alas, in this matter, both ruler and minister acted appropriately.

In the eighth year of the Taiping Xingguo era, Emperor Taizong personally presided over the Ministry of Rites examination for tribute candidates at the Hall of Military Instruction. He began ranking the candidates in three classes according to their results, hosted a banquet for them at the Qionglin Garden, and composed a poem to express his favor. This later became established practice.

The Hongdao lu comments: The Deer Calling Banquet, an ancient feast for newly selected scholars, reflected the scene of guests being recommended and talent flourishing. The Qionglin Banquet…

This was an exceptionally generous favor. The court even held a banquet especially for the officials, granting them unusual honors. It also ordered them to wear court dress and offer congratulations, with these words: “Heaven has opened the way for literary achievement, allowing worthy and talented men to enter official service.” The occasion called for congratulations according to ritual, and such honors naturally went beyond ordinary ceremony.

The Record of Words and Deeds relates that in the fourth year of the Tiansheng era under Emperor Renzong of Song, Hu Yuan, a lecturer at court and scholar of the Song dynasty, was about to answer a summons to meet the emperor. By custom, he should first have gone to the Gate of the Palace Offices to rehearse the audience rites. Hu Yuan said, “What I have learned from reading throughout my life is precisely how to serve a ruler. Why should I rehearse?” After the Gate of the Palace Offices reported this, Renzong allowed him to rehearse the rites aboard his boat. The emperor did not force him to do otherwise. Everyone assumed that Hu Yuan, being a man from the countryside, would surely make mistakes in his movements and bows. Yet when he appeared at court and responded to the emperor, Renzong was very pleased. He told those around him, “Hu Yuan’s movements and bearing conform at every point to the rites of antiquity.”

The Hongdao lu comments: Today, anyone who is to appear before the emperor must first go to the Court of State Ceremonial, the office responsible for court audiences and rites, to rehearse the protocol. This is presumably because people from outside the court may not know proper ritual. The rule is established and has been entered in the codes and regulations. Hu Yuan’s departure from convention showed how sagely and generous the ruler was, and how thoroughly he took others’ circumstances into account. It also offers some glimpse of the flourishing age in which they lived. For this reason, the incident is recorded.

The Biographies relate that in the first year of the Xining era under Emperor Shenzong of Song, Fu Bi, a distinguished minister of the Northern Song, entered the court for an audience and was permitted to ride in a sedan chair as far as the palace gate. Shenzong received him in a small hall inside the Eastern Gate, ordered his son to help him into the hall, and told him he need not kneel or bow but could sit and talk at ease. Shenzong asked him about strategies for governing the state. Knowing that the emperor was eager to achieve great things, Fu Bi replied, “A ruler’s likes and dislikes must not be made obvious. If people can discern them, treacherous men will take the opportunity to flatter him. A ruler should observe everyone as Heaven does, leaving people to bring about good and evil themselves. Fortune and calamity will follow, and merit and fault can then be judged truthfully.” Shenzong then asked about affairs on the frontier. Fu Bi replied, “Your Majesty has only recently ascended the throne. You should spread virtuous governance widely and extend benevolence. I hope Your Majesty will not speak of military campaigns for twenty years.” Shenzong said nothing. It was not until the sun had moved westward that Fu Bi withdrew.

The Hongdao lu comments: When Fu Bi was serving as prime minister under Renzong, he once said, “Rather than honor someone with empty formalities, treat them with sincere devotion.” Here, Shenzong allowed him to ride in a sedan chair to the palace gate, sit while they spoke, and forgo the kneeling bows—all these were forms of honor. But the true meaning of sincerity lay in carrying out Fu Bi’s remonstrances and listening to his counsel. At the beginning of Shenzong’s reign, the times were like the sun just rising, and Fu Bi’s assistance was like the clear guidance gained from divination with milfoil stalks. His advice was truly like medicine suited to the illness, or acupuncture that takes effect at once. Why, then, did events not unfold this way? Just as the situation seemed ready to move forward smoothly, Shenzong answered with silence. The ceremony was grand, but the practice of sincerity fell short. From the circumstances between the reigns of Renzong and Shenzong, …

The difference in these men’s fortunes was as vast as the distance between heaven and earth.

In the first year of the Yuanyou era under Emperor Zhezong, the court appointed Grand Preceptor Wen Yanbo, a distinguished official of the Northern Song, to help manage military and state affairs. He was then eighty-one years old. He had served four reigns and spent fifty years as a general and chancellor; his reputation had spread far and wide.

The Khitan envoy Yelü Yongchang came on a visit. From a distance, outside the palace gate, he saw Wen Yanbo and stepped back to stand still, his expression turning respectful. “This must be Duke Lu!” he said. After asking Wen’s age, he exclaimed, “At such an advanced age, his vigor is still so strong!” Su Shi remarked, “The envoy has seen only his appearance; he has not yet heard him speak.” Wen handled every kind of government business with such skill and efficiency that even younger men could not necessarily match him. His knowledge of past and present was so broad that even renowned specialists in particular fields fell short of him. The envoy clasped his hands in admiration. “He is truly an extraordinary man, rare in all the world!” A certain country in the west had a famous horse, and its envoy asked officials on the frontier to present it as a gift. The court granted the request. Wen Yanbo was held in such high esteem by foreigners.

At that time, Sima Guang said that Wen Yanbo’s virtue and reputation were lofty, and his service long, so he should be invited to assist the court. Empress Dowager Xuanren, the Grand Empress Dowager Gao, appointed him and honored him with special courtesies: he ranked above the chancellors in court, attended court once every six days, and lectured once every two months in the Classic Mat, where the emperor studied and listened to instruction. Such treatment was rare in any age.

When Wen Yanbo met the emperor, he was always calm and composed. During the reading of the successful candidates’ names at the jinshi examinations, he stood beside the emperor throughout the ceremony. More than once the emperor urged him, “Grand Preceptor, please rest for a while.” Wen bowed his thanks but remained standing until the ceremony ended and he was dismissed.

Later, Cheng Yi, whose courtesy name was Zhengshu, served as an imperial lecturer. He considered himself the emperor’s teacher. Whenever he gave lectures, he looked solemn and took the opportunity to offer the emperor tactful admonitions. The emperor therefore regarded him with awe. Someone asked Cheng Yi, “What do you think of Duke Lu?” Cheng replied, “Duke Lu is a senior minister who has served three reigns. In serving a young ruler, he has no choice but to be respectful. I am a commoner appointed as the emperor’s teacher. How could I fail to conduct myself with dignity? That is why Duke Lu and I behave differently.”

The Hongdao Lu comments: Mencius said that Zengzi was a teacher, his father was a father, and Zisi was a minister of humble standing. If Zengzi and Zisi had exchanged positions, each would have acted as the circumstances required. Thus, if Duke Lu had held Cheng Yi’s post, he certainly would not have abandoned the propriety of lecturing while seated. And if Cheng Yi had been in Duke Lu’s position, how could he have departed from his usual respectful caution?

When Su Shi served as a Hanlin Academician, he read and explained texts in the Classic Mat. Whenever he came to passages about good and troubled times, the rise and fall of states, or the gains and losses of right and wrong, he would explain them repeatedly and guide the emperor’s understanding, hoping to help him grasp their meaning. One time, Su Shi stayed overnight within the palace precincts, and the emperor summoned him to a side hall. The Grand Empress Dowager asked, “What post do you hold now?” Su Shi replied, “I serve in the Hanlin Academy and await your commands with trepidation.” She then asked, “How did you come to receive this post?” Su Shi replied that…

When Su Shi had an audience, the Grand Empress Dowager and the emperor asked him, “Was it not the ministers who recommended you?” Su Shi replied, “No.” Surprised, he said, “Though I have little talent, I would not dare seek advancement through any other channel.” The Grand Empress Dowager said, “This was the late emperor’s intention. Whenever he read one of your essays, he would exclaim, ‘What extraordinary talent! What extraordinary talent! It is only that I have not yet had the chance to appoint you.’”

On hearing this, Su Shi could not hold back his tears. The Grand Empress Dowager and the emperor wept as well, and everyone present was moved to tears. After a while, the Grand Empress Dowager ordered that a seat and tea be brought for him. She then had the golden lotus lanterns before the throne removed and sent someone to escort Su Shi back to his office.

Cheng Yi requested permission to conduct lectures and readings in Chongzheng Hall and Yanhe Hall. In his memorial, he wrote: “Recently, I mentioned that the Yiying Pavilion was growing increasingly hot, and asked only that lectures and readings be moved to Chongzheng Hall and Yanhe Hall. I hear that the Supervising Secretary Gu Lin believes it would be inappropriate to hold them in Yanhe Hall. I imagine his reasoning is simply that lecturers should not sit and teach in a palace hall, and that this is required out of respect for the ruler. I need not cite examples from remote antiquity; I need only point to precedents from our own dynasty. Emperor Taizu once summoned Wang Zhaosu to lecture on the Book of Changes; Emperor Zhenzong ordered Cui Yizheng to lecture on the Book of Documents and Xing Bing on the Spring and Autumn Annals. All these lectures took place in palace halls. At the time, there were rites for lecturing while seated and while standing. It is said that the change to standing lectures began at the suggestion of Empress Ming Su. This, too, was a splendid example of our founding ancestors’ esteem for Confucian learning and regard for the Way. It is something not only their descendants, but emperors of every age, should emulate.

“People today speak only of showing respect to the ruler; they do not understand the Way of honoring a ruler. The more virtuous a ruler is, the more worthy of respect he becomes. As for power and rank, these have already reached their utmost, and his majesty is already immense. They cannot be increased further.”

The compiler of the Hongdao lu commented: “Cheng Yi advocated giving lectures while seated, with a grave and upright manner; Su Shi was received in a side hall of the palace, an occasion that brought joy. These two events show, on the one hand, that the Song dynasty’s family traditions far surpassed those of the Han and Tang, and, on the other, that the Empress Dowager’s kindness and benevolence were comparable to those of Yao and Shun. Even people who read this a hundred generations from now will continue to feel reverence and admiration. Is this not a fine thing?”

The Treatises on Rites records that in the second year after Taizu ascended the throne, Nie Congyi, a Court Erudite of the Court of Imperial Sacrifices, presented the Illustrated Diagrams of the Three Rites. The emperor issued an edict summoning Confucian scholars to examine them in detail. During the Kaibao era, the emperor commissioned Liu Wensou, Chief Censor; Li Fang, a Secretariat Drafter; Lu Duoxun, Academician in the Hanlin Academy; Jia Huangzhong, an Assistant Remonstrator; and He Xian, an Outer Court Gentleman, among others, to compile the Comprehensive Rites of the Kaibao Era, in two hundred volumes. The work was based on the Tang dynasty’s Kaiyuan Rites, with additions, deletions, and revisions. Later, they also established the Compendium of Explanations to the Comprehensive Rites, in one hundred…

Emperor Taizong valued Confucian learning and revised and organized the statutes and institutions, largely restoring practices that had fallen into disuse. Emperor Zhenzong inherited an age of peace and prosperity. The Khitan and the Song court were on good terms, and the realm was free of disturbance. He therefore held grand ceremonies, including the Feng and Shan rites on Mount Tai and sacrifices at Fenyin. These ceremonies were chiefly added at the time to display the dignity of the ritual system.

Earlier, during the Tianxi era, Chen Kuan was ordered to organize the old and new edicts received by the Court of Imperial Sacrifices, but he did not finish the task. In the early Tiansheng era of Emperor Renzong’s reign, Wang Hao, a Court Gentleman for Ceremonial Affairs at the Court of Imperial Sacrifices, gathered the edicts issued from the founding of the dynasty through the Qianxing era, removed repetitions, and classified them according to the Five Rites—the auspicious, inauspicious, military, guest, and celebratory rites. The result was the sixty-volume New Compilation of the Ritual Archives. In the fourth year of Jingyou, Jia Changchao compiled the New Rites of the Court of Imperial Sacrifices and the ceremonial procedures for sacrifices. In the early Huangyou era, Wen Yanbo compiled the twenty-volume Record of the Great Sacrifice in the Bright Hall. During the Jiayou era, Ouyang Xiu gathered scattered ritual texts and, by imperial order, established an office to compile the Comprehensive Rites. It recorded changes in the ritual system and arranged the new rites by category. This work, in one hundred volumes, was granted the title Ritual Changes and Continuities of the Court of Imperial Sacrifices. About three or four tenths of its contents differed from the old rites.

The Record of Expounding the Dao comments: “When I examine the hints found in the histories, though they do not say so outright, is their regret for Emperor Renzong not deep enough? Why do I say this? Emperor Taizu followed the turmoil of the Five Dynasties. Although he took the throne through abdication, he could not personally undertake the practical work of establishing ritual and music. Emperor Taizong ruled when the state was flourishing, yet was often constrained by various conditions. How could he have made everything perfect? Emperor Zhenzong’s embellishments to ritual also had many shortcomings.

“By the time of Emperor Renzong, a hundred years of accumulated virtue had passed, and the moment was ideal for establishing a ritual system and creating ritual and music. Renzong was naturally kind and benevolent, with a heart for humaneness and reverence. In governing, he cared for and respected everyone, and the people of the realm cherished him for a long time. No other ruler could match even one ten-thousandth of this. Had there been someone like the Duke of Zhou to assist him and establish a balanced, harmonious order of ritual and music, coordinating all the institutions until they were as complete as the harmonious striking of bells and jade chimes, how could history lament that he merely continued the old forms of official documents without producing a work of his own?

“Emperor Renzong was diligent in his studies. When Wang Zhu lectured on the Rites of Zhou, he once ordered illustrations to be made of the regulations for chariots, horses, and garments, for caps and hats, and for the sacrificial vessels known as the bian, dou, fu, and gui. Yet he still did not fully understand the fundamental principles behind the creation of these institutions, so as to spur himself to emulate the flourishing ages of the Xia, Shang, and Zhou. As for other matters, there is even less need to mention them.

“Someone asked, ‘If the two Confucian scholars of Lu had encountered Emperor Renzong at the time, could they really have created ritual and music?’ The reply was: ‘No. The highest ritual system is that which accords with Heaven…’”

…to be in accord with the order of Heaven and Earth, to share in their joy, and to harmonize with them. This can be achieved only by the person of the utmost sincerity, who fully realizes their own nature and then helps others and all things realize theirs, thereby assisting Heaven and Earth in bringing life to completion. Though the two Confucian scholars could observe the rites and moral principles of the state of Lu, how could they have attained the state of equilibrium and harmony that Zisi described? Moreover, after the Song dynasty was founded, the ruler’s studies consisted only of extensive reading in works such as the Taiping Guangji and the Cefu Yuangui. Could these be placed on a par with the study of ritual? It is clear that what Emperor Renzong valued amounted to little more than the minor details of implements, institutions, titles, numbers, and ceremonial forms. No wonder he ultimately failed to live up to people’s expectations.

When Zhu Xi requested a revision of the Three Rites, he said: “I have heard that the teachings of the Six Classics converge on a single point, and that the functions of ritual and music are especially urgent. After the Qin dynasty burned the books, the study of ritual and music was the first to be destroyed. Since the Han and Jin dynasties, various Confucian scholars have continued to supplement and restore it, but a complete body of texts has never survived. What remains in broad outline is the Three Rites. The Rites of Zhou is indeed the framework of the ritual system. As for the specific ceremonial procedures and institutional rules, the Ceremonies and Rites is the foundational classic. Chapters of the Book of Rites such as ‘The Meaning of the Suburban Sacrifice’ and ‘The Meaning of the Capping Ceremony’ are merely explanations of ritual principles.

“In the past, there were also examinations such as the General Rites and the Erudite in the study of the Three Rites. Although the study of ritual was not put into practice, scholars could still recite and study the texts and understand their principles. Since the Xining era, Wang Anshi changed the old system and abolished the examination in the Ceremonies and Rites, retaining only the examination in the Book of Rites. To abandon the classic and follow commentaries, discarding the root and honoring the branches, was already a grave error. Today, the instructors and students merely recite empty words to prepare for the civil service examinations. They know nothing of the sources of the material in the books that derives from ritual procedures and institutions. Whenever a major question of ritual arises, they often judge it only by hearsay and guesswork.

“When I lived in seclusion in the mountains, I once worked with one or two scholars to examine and verify the study of ritual. We planned to use the Ceremonies and Rites as the classic, attaching relevant material on ritual institutions from the Book of Rites and other miscellaneous works of the classics and histories beneath the corresponding chapters of the Ceremonies and Rites. We would also provide annotations, explanations, and the views of various Confucian scholars. We had made some progress, but our private collections were inadequate, we had no access to other sources, and no one was available to make copies. The work dragged on for a long time without being completed. Later, I was called into service, and the students dispersed, so we were unable to finish it. I hope Your Majesty will see the matter clearly and issue a special decree to the relevant offices, permitting me to borrow books on ritual and music from the Palace Library and to gather more than ten of my former students…”

Give them several official residences to live in, where they can compile and organize books. Even if some of them hold official posts, there is no need to give them titles or salaries. Simply provide a suitable amount of money and rice each month to cover food, paper, brushes and ink, oil, candles, and other expenses. The Lin’an Prefecture can assign more than twenty clerks to assist with copying. When the compilation is complete, a celebratory banquet may be provided as appropriate. No other rewards are needed. This would cost the government little, yet revive a neglected undertaking and ensure that it is passed down for generations. It would also help scholars understand true learning, so that in the future they could establish institutions and regulations for the sacred dynasty and contribute to its good governance. In this way, Confucian learning and education would be fortunate indeed.

The Record says: “End with Song Zi’s memorial.” Since the middle period of the Song dynasty, worthy scholars from Lianxi, Luoyang, Guanzhong, and Fujian appeared one after another. Zhouzi (Zhou Dunyi) said, “Only when the principles of Yin-Yang are properly ordered can there be harmony; therefore, ritual comes first and music follows.” He also said, “Composure and gentleness, centeredness and evenness, are the finest expression of virtue. When the world is transformed through education and brought to peace, governance has reached its utmost. This is the Dao in accord with Heaven and Earth, the highest achievement of the way of governing in antiquity.” The Cheng brothers (Cheng Hao and Cheng Yi) said, “Ritual is the foundation for establishing oneself. To be at ease with ritual and in harmony with music is to embody the finest virtue.” They also said, “What ritual honors is its underlying principle. If that principle is lost and only ritual’s forms remain, then ritual has become the business of diviners and record keepers.” Zhangzi (Zhang Zai) said, “Ritual is the means of upholding one’s nature. Ritual arises from nature, and observing ritual is a return to the roots.” He also said, “Ritual is not expressed only in outward conduct; there is also ritual that has no visible form. Beyond ritual, there is no other Dao in the world.” Zhuzi (Zhu Xi) said, “Ritual is the expression of the way Heavenly Principle naturally is: it cannot be diminished, nor can it be increased. Only the sages’ hearts are one with Heaven, so nothing they do in the matter of ritual fails to accord with Heavenly Principle.”

Alas, are these teachings not precisely the foundation for establishing the institutions of ritual and music? Had these worthy men been able to hold office and put their Dao into practice at the time, the Song dynasty’s system of ritual and music would surely have rivaled those of earlier ages. Sadly, they could only cultivate themselves and pursue learning among the people; their views never reached the court. Meanwhile, Wang Anshi, Lü Huiqing, Zhang Dun, Cai Jing, Qin Hui, Han Tuozhou, Jia Sidao, and Shi Miyuan successively served as chief ministers and held the power to shape institutions. As a result, great scholars and learned Confucians had no books to consult and could find no one to copy them. Even so, in those days students could still gather and disciples could still be entrusted with the work. Compared with the present, when students and followers are scarcely to be found, and scholars are content to work alone with only their brushes for company, how much more profound is their isolation—tenfold, even a hundredfold, greater than before?

In the fifth year of the Hongwu reign of the Great Ming, the emperor issued an edict:

“I have heard that the Three Sovereigns established the principles for governing the age, and the Five Emperors followed the teachings. In the time before ritual institutions were fully developed, rulers had to explain to the people the principles they should follow. The Xia, Shang, and Zhou dynasties carried on these principles, and the people lived in harmony and peace. From the Zhou onward, through the Han, Tang, and Song, each dynasty made additions and refinements. The state prospered, the people adapted to the times, and households lived in harmony and lasting well-being.

“By the grace of Heaven above and Earth below, I received the Mandate to rule the realm. Protected by the spirits of my ancestors and the many gods, I was able to take my rightful place on the throne. I was originally a commoner from the countryside and had no systematic instruction in the classics of the sages. Moreover, I relied on force to pacify the realm and bring those who submitted under my protection. For more than twenty years, I was seldom at peace, and my conduct was generally rough and unrefined. I have therefore not yet fully understood the Way of governance, and the people have not been adequately taught. In villages, market towns, and lanes, the old customs of the Yuan dynasty still linger. Now that the realm is at peace, should we not set its rites and customs in order?

“I hereby notify you, my officials and subjects: after this edict has been issued, anyone who dares disobey it will be investigated and convicted according to law.”

The Record of Broadening the Way states:

Did this edict of the Sage Ancestor, in its effort to teach the people, surpass governing by force alone? Shang Yang cast aside ritual and righteousness and discarded any sense of shame; the stain of the harm he caused has endured through the ages. From the time the Han dynasty established the “Three Articles of Agreement” after Liu Bang entered the passes, it never again spoke plainly of teaching the people ritual and righteousness. Lu Jia repeatedly raised the matter, but Emperor Gaozu of Han replied, “What need is there for Lu Jia’s way of doing things?” When Lu Jia pleaded with him through tears, Gaozu again made excuses: “I have no time for such things.” He was never known to speak clearly or issue an order about ritual, righteousness, or customs. Thus, even to its final days, the Han dynasty continued the Qin’s muddled and domineering style of rule, unable to change it. How could that compare with the Great Ming, rising like the sun, dispelling the old and declining customs, bringing great change among the people, and guiding the realm toward great unity? I was fortunate to witness this flourishing age myself, and so I have recorded the matter.

The Record of Sagely Governance states that in the early years of the founding, Taizu treated his officials with courtesy. He once gave the Vice Commissioner Tao An a door plaque bearing these words: “The dynasty’s unmatched strategist; the finest writer in the Hanlin Academy.” He summoned senior Confucian scholars from Jiangnan to discuss the rites and appointed Tao An to oversee their compilation. He also once gave wine to the Academician Song Lian and personally wrote a poem, saying that he did so “to let posterity know that I, the emperor, shared joy with my ministers.”

Later, when Song Lian retired in old age, Taizu gave him three sets of clothes and asked how old he was that year. Song Lian replied, “Sixty-eight.” Taizu said, “Keep this bolt of figured silk safe; in thirty-two years, have it made into a robe for your hundredth birthday.” At first, Song Lian had asked to come to the capital once each year to pay his respects. When he arrived at court that September, Taizu had waited and worried about him for a long time. When Song Lian finally arrived, the emperor was delighted and sent officials from the Ministry of Rites to his lodging with wine, food, and other gifts. From then on, Song Lian attended the emperor each day, touring the palace halls together and wandering about…

The emperor questioned and consulted him with great care, and kept him at the side hall to dine together. Only after the banquet ended did he take his leave. The emperor praised him, saying, “What a truly upright and loyal minister!”

After sweet dew descended, the emperor summoned him to an audience and offered him a seat. He took a golden spoon in his own hand, stirred and cooked soup in a cauldron, added the sweet dew, then personally poured it into a wine cup and said, “This sweet dew has congealed from harmonious Qi (vital energy). It can cure illness and prolong life, so I have brought it here to enjoy with you.”

The Hongdao Lu comments: This was far wiser than Emperor Gaozu of Han’s practice of snatching off Confucian scholars’ hats and urinating into them. The Han dynasty failed to win over the Four Elders of Shangshan—Dongyuan Gong, Qiliji, and the other two recluses—while the Hongwu Emperor of the Ming was the first to recruit the Four Confucian Scholars of eastern Zhejiang. Moreover, the Neo-Confucian learning that Tao An studied and taught around Dangtu was presumably no different from the teachings of the four great schools of Lianxi, Luoyang, Guanzhong, and Fujian, or from the learning of the Four Masters. It was precisely for this reason that the realm took on a bright and flourishing aspect, free of foul and base influences. This truly came from the court’s honoring of renowned scholars, carrying forward the legacy of enlightened ancient emperors. Ah, what prosperity!

During the Yongle era, the Minister of Personnel, Jian Yi, served for nine years as Junior Grand Preceptor, while the Minister of Revenue, Xia Yuanji, was promoted to Junior Guardian after undergoing three evaluations. The emperor issued edicts praising them both, calling them “kind and generous, steadfast and dependable, comparable to the famous ministers of antiquity.” He first held a banquet for them at the Ministry of Rites, then hosted them in person at a banquet in another hall. He gave each of them a silver seal engraved with the words “Correct faults and remedy errors.”

The emperor also told them, “If I do anything improper, just submit a memorial and use this seal as your warrant. I am not afraid to correct my mistakes and accept good advice.” The following year, they accompanied the emperor on an inspection of the frontier. After they returned to the capital, the emperor reflected that both ministers were advanced in age and wished to let them live more at ease. He therefore issued an edict praising and consoling them, ordering them to cease their regular duties while continuing to receive their salaries as before. They attended the emperor morning and evening, answered his questions and joined in deliberations whenever called upon; the favor and courtesy they received grew all the deeper.

The Hongdao Lu comments: Ever since people began speaking of “showing me the right path,” who has not treated private banquets as a sign of closeness, and intimacy as generous favor and special grace? And how few have corrected a ruler’s faults in this way! The affairs of the Danxiao Hall and the Xuanwu Gate under Emperor Taizong of Tang are therefore not worthy of excessive praise. Jian Yi and Xia Yuanji enjoyed the trust of an enlightened ruler and were entrusted with his most confidential responsibilities; his confidence in them was as sure as an auspicious divination. Power and profit could not sway them, and slander could not drive a wedge between them. The saying “The good gentleman’s resolve is steadfast and unchanging” describes people such as these.

It is also clear that they did not claim the emperor’s private favors as personal merit, but instead devoted themselves to assisting him and supporting one another, and were sincerely glad to accept good advice. This shows how smoothly and harmoniously ruler and ministers interacted at the time. The Hongdao Lu therefore records the matter.

The Mingchen Lu records: Wei Ji, Minister of Personnel in Nanjing, lived to the age of ninety-eight. He had already been promoted to Grandee of Splendid Happiness, and later, at the request of Censor Liang Fang in a memorial…

Emperor Xianzong of the Ming dynasty, who reigned during the Chenghua era, personally told officials of the Ministry of Rites: “Minister Wei Ji has reached the age of one hundred. His virtue is lofty and his reputation outstanding; I greatly admire and am pleased by him.” He therefore ordered an official responsible for missions and imperial announcements to visit and convey his regards, bestowed sheep and wine, and instructed the relevant departments to provide him with three shi of rice each month for his support.

Earlier, Wei Ji had begun his career as an instructor at Songjiang Prefecture. He conducted himself according to ritual propriety and was recommended for appointment as a Court of Imperial Sacrifices Erudite, an official responsible for rites and sacrifices. During the Xuande era, he was promoted to assistant director in the Bureau of Evaluations, then transferred to the post of vice minister of the Court of Imperial Sacrifices. In the third year of Zhengtong (1438), he became vice minister of the Ministry of Personnel, and later rose to his current post as minister. Throughout his successive appointments, he earned a good reputation. Even the powerful eunuch Wang Zhen respected him and addressed him as “Master.” When Wei Ji presented Wang Zhen with a gift on their first meeting, it was only a handkerchief, yet Wang did not disdain it.

When the Jingtai era began in 1450, Wei Ji came to the capital. The grand secretary Chen Xun had once been one of the candidates Wei Ji selected in an examination he oversaw. Chen Xun said to him, “Although you hold the position of chief minister of the Ministry of Personnel, you have never truly managed affairs at court. I hope you will wait a little while; we will take care of things ourselves.” Wei Ji did not heed him. After withdrawing, he said to someone, “He treats the affairs of the court as if they were his alone. How can he expect to come to a good end?”

The author of the Hongdao lu comments: “I see that Wei Wenjing—Wei Ji’s posthumous title—began as a teacher and ultimately attained the highest ministerial rank. At first, he worked diligently in education, simply nurturing talent; I have not heard that he possessed the extraordinary ability to save the age from crisis. In his later years, he was simply pure and cautious, well regarded, dignified and steady, and sparing of words; he achieved no great feat that turned the tide of events. This was because the wise rulers of successive generations of our dynasty cherished talent and enabled him to serve the court for a long time. Though he never won brilliant renown, as time passed people felt an enduring affection for him. Thus, even a eunuch of great power paid him respect, while grand secretaries earnestly urged him to stay. Could a person like this be made in a day or a night? In the end, he lived to one hundred and attained the highest rank among ministers. Mencius said, ‘At court, rank is most esteemed; in the villages, age is most esteemed; and in assisting the ruler and governing the people, virtue is most esteemed.’ Surely these words describe Lord Wei Wenjing.”

In the Yichou year of the Hongzhi era (1505), Wuzong succeeded to the throne, respectfully conferring honorific titles upon the two palaces—the Grand Empress Dowager and Empress Dowager—and issuing an edict to care for the elderly, whose benefits extended throughout the realm. At that time, Wang Shu, Grand Guardian to the Heir Apparent and Minister of Personnel, had retired to his home and was approaching ninety. The court specially issued him a splendidly worded imperial letter and sent an official bearing silk, wine, and food to convey its regards. The rites and honors were then especially elaborate, and the imperial favor shone with great distinction: this was indeed an exceptional courtesy. Wang Shu was born during the prosperous Yongle era. He had heard of the legacy and traditions left by the founding ancestors, and lived through the Xuande and Zhengtong eras, immersed in the blessings of abundance and education. He also served in a range of posts, both at court and in the provinces.

He later held various offices, including fangyue, officials responsible for military and civil administration in a region. During the Tianshun era, he worked diligently in office. In the Chenghua era, he applied himself with even greater resolve, impeaching powerful officials and prosecuting corrupt men. Whenever affairs went against his principles, he resigned and withdrew without hesitation. After his retirement, his reputation only grew. Early in the Hongzhi era, he was specially appointed to enforce the law and oversee government affairs. Later, corrupt men slandered him and sowed discord against him, but in the end he remained steadfast in the right path and resigned.

Even in old age, he remained kind and steady, with a strong constitution. He wrote books and studied the Book of Changes, exploring the principles that govern the world without ever flagging. He retained his energy in his daily life and eating habits, and looked as if he were only in his fifties or sixties. After his fellow officials had passed away one after another and the political order of the state had changed, he still stood firm and lived on. He was truly a venerable elder, held in high esteem throughout the realm.

The Record states: Speaking of Chai Xu’s (Chu Juan’s) longevity, Sanyuan (Wang Shu) said, “Wei Wenjing (Wei Ji) and you were equal in reputation, rank, virtue, and friendship. But in terms of achievements and writings, Wenjing seems to have fallen short of you.” In my view, what matters most in a person is a fine reputation and lofty virtue. Among Duke Wei’s pupils, Chen the Grand Secretary (Chen Xun) urged him to hold on a little longer, but he resolutely refused to change his original decision. He was not swayed by his pupil, and his earlier judgment proved correct in every respect. Are there still people like this in the world today? In this light, achievements and writings should be considered secondary.

Early in the Jiajing era, the emperor issued an edict of consolation to the retired Grand Secretary Xie Qian:

“I believe that for a minister serving at court, it is difficult enough to realize his aspirations and accomplish great things. But to return home after resigning, and still enjoy a long and healthy life while preserving one’s reputation and integrity, so as to become an object of admiration for all under Heaven, is even more difficult. Your natural character is upright, and your capacity and insight are broad and profound. From an early age, you devoted yourself to orthodox learning. Later, you won the highest honors through your literary skill, and your reputation spread through the Hanlin Academy, growing ever greater. The Xiaozong Emperor had long valued you, and so promoted you from your post as palace official into the Grand Secretariat. You offered counsel morning and evening, assisting the ruler without being extreme or blindly compliant. You carefully upheld established principles and supported worthy men. The emperor received you in the side hall and questioned you on the platform. You spoke frankly in remonstrance and offered upright advice, greatly benefiting the conduct of government. The order and clarity of politics at that time truly depended on the assistance of several ministers. When you heard the late emperor’s final charge and accepted his solemn trust, you felt even more deeply the gratitude owed to one who had recognized your worth, and vowed to serve with complete loyalty.

“When the Wuzong Emperor first took the throne, you worked in unity to assist him and set the government right. Your resolute and unyielding spirit often showed in your words and expression. The court could not tolerate the path of integrity, so you asked to retire to your home. Your noble example and steadfast integrity spread throughout the realm. Later, corrupt favorites held sway and slandered you; before long, your innocence was vindicated…”

Everyone reveres you and speaks of you with admiration. Now, at seventy years of age, you are in good health, blessed with many descendants, and flourishing in virtue and renown. Few people of such excellence could be found even by looking back through earlier generations.

I have received the Mandate of Heaven and ascended the imperial throne, and am now setting about establishing a new order of governance. You are a venerable elder who has served through successive reigns, and you have long been on my mind. What is more, the public voice praises you, showing all the more clearly that your ability and virtue surpass those of ordinary people. I have specially dispatched an envoy bearing an imperial edict to convey my greetings and honor you in an exceptional manner. I hope you will understand my sincerity, take good care of body and mind, live in harmony with nature, and enjoy the blessings of a long life. Your virtue and reputation make you an example to all under Heaven; this is an honor not only to you, but also to your home village and district.

The Record says:

The present emperor had only just ascended the throne and, with no time to attend to other matters, first sent envoys bearing an imperial edict to convey his greetings to Lord Liu of Luoyang, Lord Han of Hongdong, and Lord Xie of Yuyao. At that time, there were three venerable elders. This book records only Lord Xie because I carried the edict in my own hands, personally conducted the solemn ceremony, and witnessed its grandeur with my own eyes. It was no rumor heard from others. For this reason, I have recorded the matter in detail, as an example of proper ceremony between ruler and ministers for later generations.

Hongdao lu, juan 30