《弘道錄》Vol. 37

Wan Zhang asked Mencius, “Xiang said, ‘My heart is troubled and heavy because I long for my lord.’ He was ashamed of himself for this. Yet Shun said, ‘Now all the people are under your care. Come and assist me.’ Did Shun not know that Xiang intended to kill him?”

Mencius said, “How could he not know? When Xiang was troubled, Shun was troubled too; when Xiang was happy, Shun was happy too.”

Chen Jia asked, “Was it true that the Duke of Zhou sent Guan Shu to oversee the people left behind in Yin, and that Guan Shu then used Yin to rebel?”

Mencius said, “Yes.”

Chen Jia asked again, “Did the Duke of Zhou know Guan Shu would rebel, and send him anyway?”

Mencius said, “He did not know.”

Chen Jia asked, “Then can even sages make mistakes?”

Mencius said, “The Duke of Zhou was the younger brother, and Guan Shu the elder. Was it not only natural that the Duke of Zhou should make such a mistake?”

The Hongdao lu comments: “Adapting to circumstances is an important means by which sages handle affairs, and wisdom is the foundation for putting such adaptation into practice. Sages do not refrain from adapting to circumstances in every situation, nor can they set wisdom aside when they act. What matters is that both are used to the proper degree.

“When Xiang was plotting to kill Shun, Shun was capable of adapting to circumstances. But at that time his nine sons, two daughters, and all the officials were present, and his oxen and sheep were all there, while in his heart he felt like a poor man with no home. So when Xiang was troubled, Shun was troubled too; when Xiang was happy, Shun was happy too. This was not because Shun lacked genuine wisdom, but because he acted this way to honor familial affection.

“When Guan Shu and Cai Shu rebelled, the Duke of Zhou was also capable of exercising wisdom. But the royal house had only just been stabilized, and many among the people left behind in Yin still refused to submit. How could the Duke of Zhou bear to treat his own brothers harshly? So at first he sent Guan Shu to oversee Yin, and only later put down the rebellion. This was not because the Duke of Zhou lacked genuine benevolence, but because he was seeking to stabilize the royal house.

“Later generations included those who failed to grant Taiyuan when it ought to have been granted, causing a young man to grow resentful after being humiliated; and those who knew that false words of modest refusal called for a decisive response, but hesitated until they brought about a great and bloody upheaval. In these cases, neither benevolence nor wisdom was fulfilled.

“The Zhouyi, in ‘Mingyi,’ says: ‘In hardship, it is beneficial to remain steadfast and correct; conceal your brightness, and though beset by inner difficulties, hold firm to your purpose.’ This is what Jizi did.

“The Hongdao lu comments: ‘The Book of Documents says, “I will drive out that arrogant man, while the elders of our house withdraw to a distant wilderness.” This speaks of concealing one’s sharpness outwardly. The Zhouyi’s words, “Settle your own purpose and offer yourself to the former kings,” speak of holding fast to the right path within. The sages of antiquity were wise and perceptive, and knew how to preserve themselves. Those who show off their cleverness, seem quick-witted on the surface, but are inadequate within cannot be compared with them.’

“The Zuo zhuan records: After Mengzi, the primary wife of Duke Hui of Jin, died, his next wife was Shengzi, who bore…”

The affair of Duke Yin, ruler of Lu, was like teasing a baby with a fruit: three times he offered it, and three times he took it away. It has been a laughingstock for all ages.

If the greater principle is unclear, or the crucial point in a matter is not handled in time, that is not wisdom. After Duke Hui’s principal wife died, Shengzi and Zhongzi were both only concubines. The writing on Zhongzi’s palm should never have been taken seriously in the first place. What is more, Duke Hui left no clear testament when he died, and both Duke Yin and Duke Huan were born of concubines. Duke Yin should have kept well clear of the empty reputation of “admiring the greater principle.” Since he failed to do so, he should at least have guarded against the scheming of petty men, declared the greater principle openly, and corrected his earlier mistake, so that ranks and titles were clear and words accorded with reality, thereby preventing disaster at its root. Then Yufu, a minister of Lu, would not have dared to give free rein to his wickedness, and Duke Huan might have been content with his proper place. This was how the crucial matter should have been handled.

Duke Yin did neither of these things, yet remained complacent, as if he could not see disaster approaching. I truly cannot understand what he was thinking. Confucius said, “Those who do not think far ahead are bound to face troubles close at hand.” The Commentary of Master Hu also says, “If one does not clarify one’s case promptly when in a dispute, how can one hope to resolve it properly?”

After Marquis Huan of Cai died, the people of Cai went to Chen to invite Cai Ji, the marquis’s younger brother. In autumn, Cai Ji returned from Chen to Cai, and the people of Cai praised him.

According to He’s account, Fengren of Cai had no sons, so Cai Ji ought to have succeeded him. Fengren wanted to install Xianwu, but disliked Cai Ji, so Cai Ji withdrew to live in Chen. After Fengren died, Cai Ji returned to Cai to attend the funeral, harboring no resentment. People considered him virtuous, and so referred to him by his courtesy name, Ji.

A comment: Duke Yin was the sort of man who failed to yield when he should have, and failed to act swiftly when he should have. Duke Mu (the figure discussed in the original text) seemed to grant a favor without truly giving anything, and seemed to take something away without actually depriving anyone of anything. Cai Ji, by contrast, left when it was right to leave and stayed when it was right to stay; he accepted what he could rightly take and relinquished what he ought to give up. Surely all such people deserve to be called wise and virtuous?

In the autumn of the eleventh year of Duke Zhuang’s reign, a great flood struck Song. Duke Zhuang of Lu sent someone to offer his condolences to Song, saying, “The rains sent down by Heaven have damaged the crops and the grain for the sacrifices. How could we fail to come and express our concern?” The ruler of Song replied, “I have been truly irreverent. Heaven has sent down this calamity and made you worry on my behalf. I respectfully accept your concern.” Zang Wenzhong said, “Song will probably prosper! Yu and Tang blamed themselves, and so they prospered—rightly so. Jie and Zhou blamed others, and so they perished…”

One day, a calamity suddenly struck a feudal state. According to ritual custom, people called such an event “inauspicious” (xiong). They used this term out of reverence and named it according to ritual to express that reverence.

After the turmoil caused by Prince Yushuo in the state of Song, Zangsun Da said, “Perhaps this happened because he was suited to be ruler and had compassion for the people.”

The Hongdao lu comments: Zang Wenzhong blamed himself for Song’s calamity in order to win a reputation. Was this really appropriate? The sign of a great flood foretold the ruler’s death. Rather than blame himself and win a hollow reputation, why did he not examine his own conduct and avert the real calamity? Acting shrewdly while failing to observe ritual is the beginning of disorder; capturing others while concealing their crimes is a means of inciting resentment. Duke Min brought humiliation and punishment upon himself, so Heaven sent calamity down upon him, as a shadow follows a body and an echo answers a sound. It was not because he truly had compassion for the people.

The ruler of Chu attacked the Rong tribes of Luhun, then went to the Luo River region and displayed his military strength at the borders of the Zhou realm. King Ding of Zhou sent Wangsun Man to welcome and console the ruler of Chu. Taking the opportunity, the ruler of Chu asked about the size and weight of the Nine Tripods.

Wangsun Man replied, “The weight of the Nine Tripods depends on virtue, not on the tripods themselves. In ancient times, when the Xia dynasty’s virtue flourished, distant regions depicted their products and strange creatures, then presented tribute bronze to the shepherds of the Nine Provinces, who cast it into tripods. The images were cast onto the tripods so people could recognize spirits and monsters, and the wicked and uncanny. Thus, when people entered rivers, lakes, marshes, and mountains, they did not encounter demons such as chimei and wangliang. In this way, the Xia dynasty could harmonize Heaven and Earth and receive Heaven’s blessing.

“When Xia Jie’s virtue fell into disorder, the Nine Tripods moved to the Shang dynasty. After six hundred years, Shang Zhou became cruel and lawless, and the Nine Tripods moved once more, to the Zhou dynasty. When virtue is excellent and government is well ordered, even small tripods seem heavy; when a ruler is wicked and corrupt, even large tripods seem light. Heaven’s blessings upon a ruler of enlightened virtue have their appointed end. King Cheng of Zhou placed the Nine Tripods at Jiaoru, and divination once declared that the Zhou dynasty would last thirty generations and rule for seven hundred years. This was Heaven’s decree. Today, although Zhou’s virtue has declined, Heaven’s mandate has not yet changed. So the weight of the Nine Tripods is not something you are entitled to ask about.”

The Hongdao lu comments: In my view, Wangsun Man had the ability to accomplish great things, but failed to put it to use because he did not rouse himself to action. Mencius said that when a state is at peace, that is precisely the time to put its laws and punishments in order; even a great state will then be wary. A poem also says: “Before the rain comes, hurry and strip the mulberry roots for bark, then mend your doors and windows. These people of yours—who would dare oppress them now?”

The state of Chu was lawless. With the greedy violence of a serpent and a boar, and the might of a tiger and wolf, it overstepped the rank of a feudal lord and harassed the states of the Central Plain. Had the Zhou court not heard of these things? If Zhou’s ruler and ministers had truly upheld virtue and honored the worthy, placing capable people in the right positions and giving them the right responsibilities, Chu would likely have been won over by Zhou’s virtuous government before it had a chance to defy it. Sadly, Zhaizi falsely invoked the ruler’s command, while Mao and Su threw the state into confusion. They took it upon themselves to kill people and execute the wicked, bringing profound disgrace. Even if Zhou could silence the criticism of outsiders, it had no way to recover its strength…

Tian Dan, a member of the Qi royal house, had earlier served as a market clerk in Linzi. When the Yan army attacked Anping, he had his kinsmen fit iron bands around their chariot axles. After the city fell, people rushed to flee through the gates. Axles snapped one after another, and the chariots were wrecked. Tian Dan’s kinsmen were all captured by the Yan army, but the iron bands protected his axles, allowing him to escape to Jimo.

By then, all of Qi’s territory had fallen into Yan’s hands except Ju and Jimo, which had not yet been taken. Yue Yi therefore gathered his troops and laid siege to both cities. The people of Jimo said, “In the battle of Anping, iron bands saved Tian Dan’s kinsmen. This shows that he is resourceful and understands military affairs.” They therefore chose Tian Dan together to lead them in resisting the Yan army.

The Record says: Yue Yi captured more than seventy cities in Qi but failed to take Ju and Jimo. Why? The reply says, “One sentence from Mencius already explains the reason. Why wait for anyone else’s account…?” The original text breaks off here.

Wu Shang and Wu Yuan, also known as Wu Zixu, were both sons of Wu She, an official of Chu. King Ping of Chu imprisoned Wu She. Fei Wujie said, “Wu She’s son Wu Yuan is very capable. If he remains alive, he will surely become a threat to Chu. Why not summon him on the condition that his father will be pardoned? He is certain to come.”

King Ping of Chu then sent for the brothers. Wu Shang said to Wu Yuan, “You should go; I will stay here and meet my death. My abilities are not equal to yours. When we hear that our father may be pardoned, we cannot help but hurry to him; when our father is killed, we cannot help but seek revenge. To hurry there and meet death is filial; to weigh success and failure before acting is benevolent; to choose the right responsibility and accept it is wise. You must do your best.”

When Wu She heard that Wu Yuan had not returned, he said, “The ruler and ministers of Chu will soon be so worried they will lose their appetites.”

The Record comments: Wu Yuan later acted in ways that defied convention and violated ritual propriety, which is regrettable. But as for Fei Wujie, I do not understand what there is to blame him for. King Ping of Chu had already committed the gravest of evils against Wu She. He sullied his reputation as at Xin Terrace and brought upon himself the disgrace of green flies, leaving people resentful, grief-stricken, and worn down. Once things had reached this point, why force Wu Yuan to come just because he was capable, so that he could take revenge?

Fei Wujie wanted to remove the source of danger, but instead he made the danger grow. His downfall was close at hand. He knew Wu Yuan might flee to Wu, yet he helped bring about Wu’s rise; he knew disaster might follow, yet he fanned its flames. How could Wu Yuan possibly have managed not to flee? So, without the scheme to “pardon the father and summon the son,” Wu Yuan’s plan to attack Chu might have been delayed. And without the Lord of Tang fleeing, Zixu’s departure from Chu might not have been hastened. Heaven’s will seems always to leave a turn in the road, while events unfold like echoes answering one another. The underlying pattern is difficult to foresee.

The Zizhi Tongjian records: Tian Dan was a member of the Qi royal house and had once served as a market clerk in Linzi. When the Yan army attacked Anping, he had his kinsmen reinforce their chariot axles with iron bands. After the city fell, people rushed to flee. Axles snapped and chariots were wrecked; Tian Dan’s kinsmen were all captured by the Yan army. Only Tian Dan, whose iron bands had protected his axles, escaped and made his way to Jimo.

At the time, most of Qi’s territory belonged to Yan, and only Ju and Jimo had not yet fallen. Yue Yi therefore assembled the right and vanguard armies to besiege Ju, and the left and rear armies to besiege Jimo. The people of Jimo said, “In the battle of Anping, Tian Dan’s kinsmen survived because their chariot axles had iron bands. This shows how resourceful he is and how well he understands military strategy.” They therefore chose Tian Dan together to lead them in resisting the Yan army.

The Record comments: Yue Yi captured more than seventy cities in Qi but could not take Ju and Jimo. Why? The reply says, “One sentence from Mencius already settles the matter. Why wait for any other account…?” The original text breaks off here.

The troubles between Yan and Qi had been going on for a long time. At first, the blame in Yan rested on one man alone, Zizhi; it had nothing to do with Yan’s ancestral temples or state altars. Later, the blame in Qi rested on one man alone, King Min of Qi; it likewise had nothing to do with Qi’s ancestral temples or state altars. Even if Zizhi had been executed and someone else sought to replace him, that would not necessarily have benefited Qi. Even if King Min of Qi had been killed and someone else sought to replace him, that would not necessarily have benefited Yan.

Why did the two states not act this way? When Qi attacked Yan, it did not make installing a new ruler its priority. Its aim was to invade Yan and seize its gains. So when Yan later retaliated, it did not seek a friendly response; it treated victory at all costs as an achievement. If matters had really been as Mencius described, there would have been no campaign by Yue Yi against Qi—and how, then, could there have been the battles at Ju and Jimo?

This is like a lawsuit between neighbors. If they refuse to address what they truly feel they have suffered wrongfully, yet insist on holding fast to the interests they secretly prize, the lawsuit will drag on for years without resolution. Matters can be put right only when both sides are compelled to exchange and return what they hold. Later, Tian Dan recovered the territory Qi had lost but did not covet the land Yan had already occupied. Only then did the troubles between Yan and Qi subside. This shows that wisdom in resolving a conflict does not begin with the “iron cage stratagem”—a plan to entrap an opponent by force.

Zhi Guo was the younger brother of Zhi Xuanzi. When Zhi Xuanzi planned to make his son Zhi Yao his heir, Zhi Guo said, “It would be better to make Zhi Xiao the heir.” Zhi Yao surpassed ordinary people in five respects and fell short in only one. His fine beard and tall stature were advantages; his skill in archery and chariot driving, and his great physical strength, were advantages; his mastery of the arts was an advantage; his clever speech, talent for debate, and intelligence were advantages; and his firmness, decisiveness, and courage were advantages. But he was profoundly lacking in benevolence. He stood above others by virtue of these five strengths and acted without benevolence—who could endure him? If Zhi Yao were made heir, the Zhi clan would surely be destroyed. Zhi Xuanzi would not listen. Zhi Guo then went to the Grand Historian and registered a separate lineage for himself. From then on, he became the head of a distinct clan and changed his surname to Fu.

The Hongdao lu comments: “Zhi Guo truly had foresight! His judgment of Zhi Yao was like a divination that yielded a certain result. It is a pity Zhi Xuanzi failed to see this. The way of benevolence and righteousness has long been obscured. Some people regard Lu’s policies as exemplary and benevolent; can Zhi Yao’s abilities really be called benevolence? Yet if one does not see into a person’s heart, Jie was not without eloquence and quick intelligence; Zhou was not without firmness and decisiveness; Di was not without a fine beard and tall stature; Duan was not without skill in archery and chariot driving; and Nan Gong Wan was not without mastery of the arts...” The original text ends here, unfinished.

Bi Ji was the same. That is why the records of Confucius’s disciples contain no accounts of those five worthy men. Only benevolence can serve as the foundation; without it, the people cannot continue to live in peace.

So when the three families divided the state of Jin, people’s sense of right and wrong had already been lost. How, then, could anyone willingly remain in a subordinate position? Guo established a separate lineage and became a branch of the Fu clan. He hated what all under Heaven hated, and was drawn into the resulting trouble.

The Book of Han records that Liu De was the son of Liu Fu, Marquis of Xiu. From a young age, he was resourceful and offered advice on affairs of state on many occasions. Emperor Wu summoned him and said, “You are a thousand-mile colt.” Early in Emperor Zhao’s reign, Liu De became Assistant Director of the Imperial Clan Court. He was later promoted to Grand Master of the Palace and then appointed Director of the Imperial Clan Court. When he took part in investigating the affair of Shangguan Gai and the Princess, he often followed Laozi’s way of conducting oneself through knowing contentment.

After Liu De’s wife died, Grand General Huo Guang wanted him to marry his daughter. Liu De declined, saying he did not dare, for he feared that fortune at its height would turn to decline. He often reproached Grand Princess Gai for her improper conduct, and she resented him. The princess’s grandson Tan stopped Liu De, claimed to be an Attendant Censor, and assumed that Liu De resented Huo Guang for not giving him his daughter in marriage. To curry favor with the princess, Tan impeached Liu De for slander. Liu De was imprisoned in the Imperial Edict Prison, stripped of office, and made a commoner. When Huo Guang heard of this, he regretted it. He petitioned the emperor to reinstate Liu De, who became Acting Governor of Qingzhou and later once again Director of the Imperial Clan Court.

After Emperor Xuan took the throne, Liu De was rewarded with the title of Marquis within the Passes for his contribution to securing the emperor’s accession. Because he was a member of the imperial family and conducted himself with care and forbearance, he was also made Marquis of Yangcheng. He was generous by nature and glad to give to others. Whenever he served as Acting Governor of the Capital Commandery, he overturned the convictions of many people. When his family’s wealth exceeded a million, he distributed it to support his brothers and guests, saying, “Wealth brings the people’s resentment.”

The Hongdao Lu comments: The Great Learning states, “Words that violate reason and come from your own mouth will return to you in violation of reason; wealth acquired in violation of reason will also be lost in violation of reason.” Wu Gu’s conduct did indeed violate reason, though it may not have been proper in matters of ritual either. Before long, Yan Shou died: this was the misfortune brought by wealth gained without reason. Liu Fu returned to the capital of his own accord and did not contend for his fiefdom; he may be said to have acted with care and upheld De. His son, too, understood contentment. From this we can see that the roots of good and ill fortune lie in loyalty and trustworthiness on the one hand, and arrogance and indulgence on the other. The sages have made this clear since ancient times; Laozi was not the only one to say so.

In the fifth year of Yuankang, during Emperor Xuan’s reign, Yuan was made crown prince. Shu Guang became his tutor, and Shu Shou his junior tutor; Shu Shou was Shu Guang’s cousin’s son. When the crown prince was twelve, he had already mastered the Analects and the Classic of Filial Piety. One day Shu Guang said to Shu Shou, “I have heard that those who know contentment are not humiliated, and those who know when to stop do not come to harm. Our official rank has now reached two thousand shi; our careers have gone smoothly, and our reputations are established. At a time like this, if we still do not leave…”

Fearing they might regret it later, the two men both feigned illness that very day and submitted a memorial requesting retirement and permission to return to their home district. The emperor approved both requests and bestowed twenty jin of gold on each; the Crown Prince added a gift of fifty jin. High officials and old friends held a farewell banquet for them outside the Eastern Capital Gate. Hundreds of carriages came to see them off, and people watching along the road said, “These two great men are truly virtuous!” Some sighed and wept as they watched them leave.

After returning to their home district, they sold the gold, prepared a feast, and invited their clansmen, old friends, and other guests to celebrate together. Someone urged Shu Guang to keep more of the gold to buy property for his descendants. Shu Guang said, “Do you think I have grown so old and muddled that I no longer consider my descendants? Our family already has ancestral fields and houses. If they work diligently on the land, that will be enough to provide them with food and clothing and let them live like ordinary households. If I add more property for them now and give them surplus wealth, I will only make them lazy. If my descendants are capable but have too much money, it will wear down their resolve; if they are foolish but have too much money, it will only encourage their faults. And the wealthy often invite the resentment of others. Since I lack the ability to guide my descendants, I do not want to add to their faults or invite others’ resentment. Besides, this gold was bestowed by a wise ruler to reward and support an old servant. Would it not be good to enjoy this gift with my neighbors and clansmen, and spend the rest of my life this way?”

The Hongdao lu comments: “The Shu brothers resigned from office so resolutely, perhaps taking Huo Guang’s fate as a warning. They refrained from acquiring property to avoid repeating the old story of the Shu clan’s downfall. Zhang Anshi before them and Wang Ji after them both understood the principle: ‘Knowing contentment keeps one from disgrace; knowing when to stop keeps one from danger.’ As for whether the Shu brothers foresaw that the Crown Prince was not someone they could rely on, they had no such thought.”

It also comments: “How could Xiao Wangzhi be compared with the Shu brothers? Xiao Wangzhi had Han Yanshou succeed him as governor of Fengyi, and Han Yanshou gained considerable renown. Xiao Wangzhi believed Han Yanshou’s abilities surpassed his own, grew jealous of him, and sought to frame him on charges. The Shu brothers, by contrast, worried that their descendants might commit more faults and incur resentment because of excessive wealth. How could they have exposed others and attacked one another? Xiao Wangzhi was framed by Gong and Xian. The matter between him and Han Yanshou arose only because Han Yanshou had heard certain things for a time; it was not arranged personally by the emperor.”

Feng Yewang’s father, Feng Fengshi, had served as General of the Guards and Palace Grandee. Feng Yewang later served as Left Fengyi. Both father and son held posts at court, and commentators considered their abilities truly suited to their offices: they had not gained their positions through the favor shown to female relatives. Later, Feng Yewang was promoted to Grand Herald, sent out of the capital to serve as governor of Shangjun, and ranked first for his administrative performance. His younger brother Feng Li also served as governor of Pingyuan, and later succeeded…

When serving in Shang Commandery, he was impartial and upright, and his approach to governing was much the same as when he had served in Yewang. He was highly capable, generous toward others, and eager to formulate laws and regulations. Officials and common people alike praised him. They sang:

“After Senior Lord Feng came Junior Lord Feng; brothers followed one another, their achievements carried on in turn. Clear-sighted, virtuous, and gifted, they bestowed kindness on the people, and their influence through virtue was like that of Lu and Wei. The virtue of the Duke of Zhou and Kang Shu was no greater. Feng Xun and Feng Can, the two brothers, were both renowned in their time. They governed five commanderies and counties in succession, and wherever they went, their performance was always ranked second.”

The Records of Spreading the Way says: When I consider the brothers Feng Junqing, everyone calls them virtuous, but I think they were poor at looking after their own interests. Why? They said, “Others consider me important because I have risen to favor and prominence; only I am valued because of my humble status.” The brothers were both relatives of the emperor through his mother’s family, yet neither attained a pivotal position at court. Alas, perhaps these words still show that they were attached to the currents of their time. They worried that they would fail to make their mark: if they were not among the Five Marquises, they would be like the Ding and Fu, other families of imperial in-laws. How can people like that be called wise?

By then, the court’s order and discipline had already fallen into disarray. Feng Meng and Mei Fu were still concerned about becoming implicated; how much more should one be wary of clinging to power and refusing to leave? Wu Youxu of the Tang stood out precisely because he was able to do so.

When Ma Yuan was young, his family’s means were limited, so he took leave of his elder brother and planned to farm and raise livestock in a frontier commandery. His brother Ma Kuang said, “You are someone whose greatness will emerge late. A truly worthy person does not casually display his unpolished talents. Since this is what you want, go and do it.” Ma Yuan then went to Beidi Commandery to farm and raise livestock. He once said to his guests, “A man of ambition should grow more resolute in hardship and more energetic in old age.” Later, he amassed thousands of head of livestock and tens of thousands of bushels of grain, but sighed, “In the end, the worth of building up an estate lies in whether it can be used to relieve and help others. Otherwise, one is merely a miser guarding his wealth.” So he gave all his possessions to relatives, friends, and old acquaintances. Hearing that Wei Xiao honored the worthy and welcomed men of talent, Ma Yuan went to join him. Wei Xiao respected him greatly and often consulted him on strategy.

The Records of Spreading the Way says: Reading Ma Kuang’s words, I cannot help but marvel: it is truly difficult for a person of great potential to find a discerning mentor. Ma Yuan was born during the Xin dynasty, when there was no place in the realm where he could put his abilities to use. Had he entered official service, he might have become a celebrated minister like Ji Tang; had he withdrawn from public life, he might have become a figure like Gong Sui or Bao Xuan. Ma Yuan thought of himself as old and struggling—did he alone understand this, or did Ma Kuang understand it too? If the rise of Nanyang and Emperor Guangwu’s achievements had not come later, would Ma Yuan not have spent the rest of his life farming and raising livestock in a frontier commandery?

Alas, fine timber in a great forest does not grow in vain, and the worth of fine jade from Lantian is all the more prized for it. In the end, Ma Yuan became a general and minister, and his name was recorded in history; his daughter became empress, her virtue surpassing all others in the imperial harem. His achievements came so late—who among ordinary people could compare? Thus, when judging a scholar, one must not look only at whether his achievements came early or late.

Only a person of resolute character can see such things and still willingly hold fast to the right path. One must know how to respect oneself.

The Book of the Later Han records that when the Prince of Dongping was young, he loved the Confucian classics and was known for his intelligence. He was handsome, with a fine beard and a waist measuring eight handspans around. Emperor Xianzong of Han (Emperor Ming of Han) held him in high regard and appointed him General of the Agile Cavalry, a rank above the Three Dukes. More than thirty years had passed since the Eastern Han had been restored, and the empire was peaceful. The Prince of Dongping believed that, since the people throughout the realm had already been brought to peace through education, it was time to restore the rites and music. He therefore joined the high ministers in deliberations, establishing regulations for sacrifices at the southern and northern altars, ceremonial caps and robes, and carriages and attire. He also devised the ritual songs and the Eight-Row Dance for the temple of Emperor Guangwu. Whenever the emperor went on a tour, the prince often remained behind to guard and protect the capital. During the several years when the Empress Dowager attended to state affairs, he also contributed much through his counsel and service.

But he considered himself both a close relative of the emperor and a supporter of the government, and as his reputation steadily grew, he became uneasy. He submitted a memorial asking to resign, return his seal of office, and retire to his fief. The emperor issued an edict urging him to stay, but he continued to decline earnestly. In the fifth year, the emperor permitted him to return to his fief, but did not take back the seal of the General of the Agile Cavalry. The prince’s chief aide was reassigned as an assistant official in the Prince of Dongping’s household, with the rank of Grand Master; clerks were made attendants in the prince’s household. The emperor also granted him two hundred thousand cash and one hundred thousand bolts of cloth.

The Hongdao lu comments: After the Zhou dynasty declined, the royal Ji clan and the noble Shao clan also gradually fell into decline. Since the founding of the Han dynasty, members of the imperial clan had been barred from serving in the highest ministerial offices, while the court often appointed relatives of the empresses and consorts. Were relatives on one’s mother’s side truly more deserving of lasting trust than one’s own clan brothers? These practices all arose from favoring those close at hand and indulging them. As a result, individuals failed to cultivate themselves, families could not be brought into order, the state could not be governed, and the realm could not be at peace; calamities followed one after another. The sages had long warned against this, yet the Western Han repeated the same mistakes. In time, the practice was changed, but after the Zhanghe era, matters gradually returned to how they had been before.

Wenji, the daughter of Li Gu, was married to Zhao Boying, a fellow native of their commandery. She was virtuous and wise. After Li Gu was removed from office, Wenji knew that disaster was unavoidable and lamented, “The Li family is doomed! Ever since our ancestor Taigong, our family has accumulated virtue and done good. Why must we suffer this?” Li Gu had a young son named Li Xie, and Wenji secretly found a way to hide him. Before long, disaster struck, and Li Gu’s two sons were killed. Wenji said to her father’s former student Wang Cheng, “My late father had the integrity of an ancient worthy. Because you upheld what was right, he entrusted this orphan, six feet tall, to you. The survival of the Li family rests entirely in your hands.” Moved by her loyalty and devotion, Wang Cheng took Li Xie by boat downriver to the east, entered Xu Province, and changed Li Xie’s name to “Wine.”

There was a servant in the household who later made a living telling fortunes in the marketplace, disguising himself as various kinds of people and secretly keeping in contact with Xie. Xie followed him and learned from him. The servant thought Xie was exceptional, so he gave his daughter to him in marriage. Xie devoted himself to studying the classical texts for more than ten years.

After Liang Ji was executed, omens and disasters appeared repeatedly. The court historians memorialized the throne, saying that the court should issue an amnesty and appoint the descendants of officials who had died unjustly. The court therefore granted a general amnesty and began searching for Gu’s descendants. Only then did Xie tell his wife what had happened, enabling him to return to his hometown. The brother and sister met and were overcome with grief. After a while, his sister warned him: “Our late father was an upright man, a loyal servant of the Han dynasty. Now the court is in turmoil, and Liang Ji is rampant and brutal. The ancestral sacrifices may soon come to an end. You have now, by good fortune, preserved your life. Could this not be Heaven’s arrangement? You should cut off contact with others and avoid casual visits. Under no circumstances should you say a word to the Liang family. Simply take the blame upon yourself.” Xie respectfully followed his sister’s counsel.

The compiler of the Hongdao lu comments: “When I consider Li Wenji’s wisdom, can it really be compared with Cai Wenji’s brilliance? To preserve oneself through clear judgment is called ‘wisdom’; to use words to please others is called ‘cleverness.’ The difference between these two women is so plain—it reflects the different qualities of their natures. Even so, Gu had already suffered calamities grievous enough, and Li Ji had already worried deeply enough about those calamities. But what could ultimately be done? The father refused to install the emperor’s son, and the son refused to install a prince. What is there in such conduct that should not be punished, for matters to have come to this? As for someone like Xie, is he merely carrying on his family’s tradition of uprightness? He can be said to have brought honor to his family.”

Hongdao lu, juan 44