《弘道錄》Vol. 8

The Zuo Zhuan records that the Gaoyang clan had eight outstanding men of virtue, who were orderly and sagacious, broad and profound, clear-sighted and appropriate, and solid and sincere. The world called them the "Eight Kai." The Gaoxin clan also had eight outstanding men, who were loyal, dignified, reverent, graceful, perceptive, benevolent, generous and gentle, and harmonious and compliant. The world called them the "Eight Yuan."

These sixteen lineages passed down their virtue generation after generation and did not disgrace the reputations of their ancestors. By the time of Emperor Yao, Yao could not personally employ them. When Shun assisted Yao, he raised the Eight Kai and had them oversee land affairs and coordinate the various governmental duties. Every task was arranged according to its season, the land was put in order, and the myriad things were brought to completion. Shun also raised the Eight Yuan and sent them to the four quarters to promote the five teachings: that the father is righteous, the mother is loving, the elder brother is friendly, the younger brother is respectful, and the children are filial. In this way, households were harmonious and the world was well governed. Therefore the "Yu Shu," in listing Shun's achievements, says: "He carefully promoted the five constant teachings, and the common people all complied. He oversaw the hundred officials, and each official performed his duties, and affairs were not neglected."

The editor remarks: The Tongjian Qianbian explains that "a certain clan" (mou shi) is equivalent to saying a certain dynasty. What is meant here is that the Gaoyang and Gaoxin periods each had eight such worthies, together called the "Sixteen Lineages." These were not sixteen children born of a single mother, any more than the "Eight Shi" of the Zhou were. Some who do not understand this take them to have been the sons of two sovereigns. If so, why would the eight sons of Gaoyang have lived so long? And were the eight sons of Gaoxin all half-brothers of Yao? Readers should examine this carefully.

Wan Zhang asked: "Xiang (Shun's younger brother) thought day and night of killing Shun. After Shun became the Son of Heaven, he merely banished Xiang. Why was that?" Mencius replied: "Shun enfeoffed Xiang at Youbi (a place name), though some say it was a banishment. A benevolent person treats his younger brother without harboring anger in his heart and without holding a grudge for long. He simply draws close to him and cherishes him. To draw close to him is to wish him to be honored; to cherish him is to wish him to be prosperous. Shun enfeoffed Xiang at Youbi, which was to make him wealthy and honored. Yet as Son of Heaven, he let his younger brother remain a commoner. Could this be called drawing close and cherishing?"

The editor remarks: Zheng Zhuanggong's treatment of his younger brother Shuduan was to harbor anger in his heart. Duke Xian of Jin's treatment of his sons Huan and Zhuang was to hold a long-standing grudge. They not only concealed their anger and nursed their resentments but even swore to confine their mother at Chengying and cursed that the sons of the various lords would not be permitted to be adopted. The Doctrine of the Mean says: "When brothers live in harmony, there is joy and accord." It also says: "In this way, parents too will feel content." From this we see that if one cannot draw close to and cherish an arrogant younger brother, it becomes difficult to transform the stubborn and ignorant hearts of people.

The Book of Odes, "Greater Odes," says: "Heaven established the state and arranged those who would assist it. From Taibo and Wangji onward, it was this Wangji..."

Wang Ji loved his elder brother out of his own heart, drawing close to him naturally. When brothers live in harmony, their blessings run deep, and light and grace follow them. The good fortune he received was never lost, and in the end he came to possess a vast territory.

The Hongdao Lu (Record of Broadening the Dao) says: Confucius praised Taibo, saying, "Taibo may be called a man of the highest De (Virtue). He gave the realm to his younger brothers three times, yet the common people could find no fitting words to praise him." Those who explained this passage said that Taibo's yielding was so deeply concealed that he left no deeds worth proclaiming.

Now, looking at the Shijing (Book of Odes), Wang Ji's love for his brother arose from following his own heart and acting naturally; it was not forced on himself. If so, when Taibo yielded the throne to his younger brother, was that also out of his original heart rather than something forced? For such a person, how could others see through him or praise him? In truth, there is no need to say that he was "deeply concealed." His conduct itself makes it plain.

The Xiaoya ode "Liaoxiao" says: "The dew on the liao and xiao plants glistens and is full. On seeing the gentleman, my heart is at ease and joyful. Brothers live in harmony, their De in accord, and so they are at peace and long-lived."

The Shijing ode "Sigan" says: "Lofty is the Sigan ridge, deep the southern mountain. Brothers flourish like bamboo and trees, thrive like pine and cypress. Brothers love one another and do not suspect each other."

The Hongdao Lu says: The wording of these two odes exactly hits the ills behind the Rebellion of the Seven States in the Han dynasty. The Huainan King gathered guests, and King Yuan of Chu treated scholars to sweet wine. Did these not seem like peace and joy? Yet they lacked the De of brotherly harmony and generous gentleness, and so in the end they rarely received the blessing of joy and long life. Later they cast mountains and boiled the sea, gathered fugitives and rebels, and their schemes never ceased, only hastening their ruin. Was the problem merely that later heirs suspected one another?

The Shiji (Records of the Grand Historian) records: Boyi and Shuqi were the two sons of the Lord of Guzhu. Their father wished to make Shuqi his heir. After the father died, Shuqi yielded the lordship to Boyi. Boyi said, "This was our father's command," and departed. Shuqi also refused to take the throne and likewise left. The people of the state then set up their younger brother as ruler. Zigong asked Confucius, "What sort of men were Boyi and Shuqi?" Confucius replied, "Ancient worthies." Zigong asked again, "Did they harbor resentment?" Confucius said, "They sought ren (benevolence) and attained it. What resentment would they have?"

The Hongdao Lu says: Someone asked, "Why could no later generations match Boyi and Shuqi in yielding the state?" I answered: When no predecessor has done a thing and one simply follows principle, it is as if it came from heaven or grew from the earth. It is naturally not unwholesome. Once predecessors have opened the way, later people easily mingle in their own calculations, and once a scheme is harbored, the situation becomes different. Therefore Boyi and Shuqi, facing their father's command, practiced what was fitting according to the concrete circumstances, and they had no private motive...

It is merely used to gather the emulation of later generations. Later people borrow the name of brothers and invoke principle to carry out their affairs, while in their hearts they intend to win the reputation of the ancients. This practice differs from that of the ancients, and it is also one of the causes of calamity and disorder.

The Zhou Shu (Book of Zhou) records that two years after the defeat of Shang, King Wu (Wu Wang) fell ill and was unwell. The Grand Duke (Taigong) and Duke Shao said, "Let us divine on behalf of the king." The Duke of Zhou (Zhou Gong) said, "We must not alarm the former kings over this." He therefore took the matter upon himself, established three altars, and built an altar to the south, standing and facing north. He placed a bi (a jade disc) on the altar, held a gui (a jade ceremonial tablet) in his hand, and reported the matter in sacrifice to King Tai, King Ji, and King Wen.

The scribe offered a prayer and wrote a document that said: "Your eldest grandson, Ji Fa (King Wu), has suffered a grave illness. If you three former kings hold that the eldest son should bear this responsibility, then let Heaven allow Ji Dan (the Duke of Zhou) to take the illness in place of Ji Fa." They then used three tortoise shells for divination, and all were auspicious. Opening the box that held the divination records, they found the records likewise all auspicious. The Duke of Zhou said, "From the cracks of the omens, the king will probably come to no harm." He then placed the written document in a cabinet kept inside a metal-bound chest. On the following day, King Wu indeed recovered.

After King Wu died, Guan Shu (Duke Guan) joined with several of his younger brothers to spread rumors within the state that the Duke of Zhou meant harm to the young King Cheng. The Duke of Zhou told the Grand Duke and Duke Shao, "If I do not withdraw from this matter, I will have no way to answer to the former kings." He therefore dwelt in the east. Two years later, those who had caused the disturbance were seized. The Duke of Zhou composed a poem and presented it to King Cheng, saying:

"Owl, owl, you have already seized my child; do not destroy my nest. How toilsome it has been to raise him, and how I have cherished him. Before the sky has begun to rain, I hurry to strip the bark from mulberry roots to mend my windows and doors. Now, which of you would dare to insult me?

My hands are never still. The things I gather are like bitter herbs, and what I store piles up in stacks. By the end, my mouth is worn hoarse. I say, 'I still have no settled home.' My feathers are ragged and my tail is withered. My nest sways and totters, buffeted by wind and rain. I can only utter cries of fear."

The Hongdao Lu (Record of Broadening the Way) comments: King Cheng and Guan Shu had the bonds of ruler and minister, yet the Duke of Zhou regarded both as brothers of one hand and foot, and so he treated the two without distinction. If the king died, the Duke would take his place; if Guan Shu rebelled, the Duke would eliminate him. Is there any difference in this? There is none. A grave illness that clouds the mind and a rebellion that defies the ruler differ in their closeness and distance, yet both shake the royal house in the same way. Thus, if the eldest son is secure, the people will have no one who fails to revere him; if the child who was raised runs away, the people will have no one who dares not to insult the house. Since this is so, is there any difference between the Duke of Zhou's act of setting up altars and holding the jade disc and tablet, and the sentiments he later expressed in poems such as Pofu (Hewing the Axe)? What he pitied was always the people. Had they been placed in his circumstances, everyone would have acted in the same way.

It further says: "Yi" (to hand down, to deliver) means to pass something on and send it forward. The rise of rumors is at first often hard to detect……

Wu Gen said: "If one simply keeps silent while the royal house suddenly suffers calamity, who will know of it, and who could have caused it? Is this how a benevolent person ought to act? If one offers only a perfunctory word or two, yet feels no sorrow when faced with one's own close kin, can such conduct be tolerated? The benevolent person does not act this way. Looking at this poem now, its language is not urgent, yet its feeling is already deeply sincere. Even if a child five feet tall heard it, would he fail to understand that the crimes of the owl (here referring to the wicked) cannot escape punishment, and that the hardships depicted in the poem are truly believable? It moves the heart so deeply. How could this be only a matter of loyalty and sincerity? In shaping its words and comparing things to one another, it is truly like the wind stirring all things. Since this is so, when thunder and lightning arise because of the wind in the heavens, can there be no cause for it?"

The Zuo Zhuan records that, because of the disorder caused by Li Ji, the state of Jin once swore an oath never again to admit the sons of the lords into its ducal lineage (the royal clan of the state). From that time Jin had no ducal lineage. When Duke Cheng came to the throne, he finally appointed Duke Cheng's legitimate son to office, granted him land, and made him a member of the ducal lineage. He also gave office to his other sons, who were called "surplus sons" (yuzi), while his sons by concubines served as the "Duke's Force" (gongxing). Thus Jin had its ducal lineage, its surplus sons, and its Duke's Force. At this time Zhao Xuanzi requested that Zhao Kuo be made a member of the ducal lineage, saying: "He is the son beloved by Lady Jun Ji (the Duke's wife). Had it not been for Lady Jun Ji, I would already have become a Di barbarian." Duke Cheng agreed to Zhao Xuanzi's request, making Zhao Kuo a member of the "Mao-chariot lineage," and he allowed Ping Ji to serve as a ducal lineage master by virtue of his existing clan status.

Master Hongdao Lu comments: Was Zhao Xuanzi's request to establish a clan rank for Zhao Kuo prompted by being moved by Lady Jun Ji's plea to establish her legitimate son? Yet when Xuanzi supported the legitimate heir, the Zhao clan was passed on to Zhao Kuo, and once Zhao Kuo became part of the clan, the Zhao main line instead perished. Where, then, was the Mao-chariot lineage? Where was the ducal lineage? Therefore, the gentleman values having heirs.

When Han Xianzi was about to retire, he intended to have Mu Zi succeed him as Master of the Ducal Lineage. Mu Zi had a physical disability and declined, saying: "The Book of Poetry says, 'If one does not personally take part, the people will not trust.' Wuji has no talent. Please establish another to succeed." Qi had associated with Tian Su and was praised as a man of benevolence. The Book of Poetry also says, "Respectfully fulfill your duties, and love the upright; the spirits will hear this and bestow great blessings upon you." Caring for the people is De (Virtue), uprightness is righteousness, and when these three are harmonized, one has benevolence (ren). If one can do this, the spirits will hear and bestow great blessings. Would it not be entirely fitting to establish Qi as Master of the Ducal Lineage? Thereupon Han Xianzi had Xuanzi come to court to take leave, and he himself retired. The Marquis of Jin praised Han Wuji's benevolence and had him take charge of the ducal lineage as its Master.

Master Hongdao Lu comments: The Han and Zhao clans were both major forces among the Three Jin (Han, Zhao, and Wei), and so Han Xianzi did not abandon Zhao Meng, recognizing that he understood the moral duty of the Way. Qi and Zhao Dun were both pillars among the great clans, and therefore...

Wuji did not place Han Qi ahead of himself, regarding this as benevolence. Even so, it was necessary first to establish what is right according to righteousness, and only then could benevolence be made manifest. Di Xuanmeng used this to move Muzi, and Zu Pingji likewise moved Duke Dao. The Book of Songs says: "Whether the men of the age are glorious or not, their planning is cautious and thorough." This is perhaps why the Three Jin rose through this course and Quyi was thereby divided.

As Duke Mu of Song lay gravely ill, he summoned Grand Minister of War Kong Fu and entrusted Duke Shang to Kong Fu's care, saying: "The former ruler set aside Yufu and established me, and I dare not forget this kindness. If, relying on the strength of the great officer, I can preserve my life until the end of my days, and the former ruler should ask about Yufu, with what words should I answer? Please support him and preside over the state altars. Even if I die, I will have no regret."

Kong Fu replied: "The ministers wish to support Gong Zi Feng." Duke Mu said: "No. The former ruler thought I was worthy, and so let me preside over the state altars. If I disregard virtue and refuse to yield, I would betray the former ruler's choice; how could I still be called worthy? To make manifest the fine virtue of the former ruler, should one not do one's utmost? Please do not destroy the former ruler's achievement." Thereupon Duke Mu had Gong Zi Feng leave and reside in Zheng. On the eighth month, day gengchen, Duke Mu died, and Duke Shang ascended the throne.

The gentleman said: "Duke Xuan of Song may truly be called one who knew men and employed them well. He established Duke Mu as ruler, and afterward Duke Xuan's own son also enjoyed the ruler's position. This arrangement was made in accordance with righteousness."

The Hongdao Lu comments: Duke Xuan of Song handed the ruler's position to Duke Mu. The Zuo Commentary holds this to be knowing men and employing them well, while the Gongyang Commentary regards it as the beginning of disorder. How, then, should one judge?

Yao recommended Shun, and Shun recommended Yu. Since these men accepted the Mandate of Heaven, and the acclaim expressed in court audiences, lawsuits, and folk songs, they were also consistently accepted by the common people. When it came to Boyi and Qi, however, the situation was different: what court audiences, lawsuits, and songs embraced was not Boyi but Qi. People said, "This is our ruler's son." The affairs among Yao, Shun, Yu, and Boyi arose from the Mandate of Heaven, which accords with nature, and from impartial heavenly principle, and so they were transmitted for ten thousand generations without fault. The affairs among Duke Mu, Duke Xuan, Yufu, and Gong Zi Feng, however, arose from personal feeling and private partiality, and so they could not be sustained beyond two generations.

Even so, Kong Fu's acceptance of the charge was still better than Zhao Pu's second blunder in the matter, and Gong Zi Feng's residing in Zheng was still better than Zhao Defang suffering a broken promise. Duke Mu may be said not to have betrayed Duke Mu's original intention.

Duke Huan of Song fell gravely ill, and Crown Prince Zi Fu firmly requested: "Muyi is older and possesses benevolence; the ruler should establish him as heir." Duke Huan then ordered Muyi to succeed. Muyi declined, saying: "Only one who can yield the state may be called benevolent. Who is able to do this..."

The Hongdao Lu (Record of Expanding the Way) comments: "This matter is too great, and I am not equal to it. Moreover, to do this would also violate ritual propriety and righteousness." Thereupon he fled and yielded. Later, when Duke Xiang of Song (Song Xianggong) ascended the throne, he appointed Gongzi Muyi as a man of benevolence (ren ren), made him Left Minister (Zuo Shi, a Song office that oversaw governance), and had him take part in court deliberations. Song was therefore well governed, and the Yu clan also served as Left Ministers for generations.

The Hongdao Lu comments that when Duke Mu of Song (Song Mugong) abandoned his own son Feng and установил his nephew Yiyi as ruler, the distinctions between father and son became confused, and in the end this brought the calamity of usurpation and regicide. Muyi resolutely asked that Yiyi be established, thereby preserving the ethical order between brothers, and so Song was well governed. But why must one dress yielding up as a virtue and praise one another for good reputations? In the end, succession from father to son after the father's death is the constant practice valid across all ages, while succession by a younger brother after an elder brother's death is only a temporary adaptation. What accords with neither constancy nor proper adaptation will produce disorder.

Gongsun Ao took Dai Ji of the state of Ju as his wife, and she bore Wenbo. Dai Ji's sister Sheng Ji bore Huishu. After Dai Ji died, Gongsun Ao went to Ju again to seek a marriage. The people of Ju refused him on account of Sheng Ji, so he turned instead to arrange a marriage for Xiangzhong. Gongsun Ao climbed the city wall, saw Sheng Ji, found her beautiful, and took her for himself. Later he led his whole household in flight to Ju, following Sheng Ji. The people of Lu established his eldest son Gu as ruler; this was Wenbo. When Wenbo fell ill, he requested, "Gu's son is still young. I ask that Nan be established as heir." Lu agreed. After Wenbo died, Nan succeeded, and this was Huishu.

The Hongdao Lu comments that in the time of Duke Wen of Lu, the state killed its legitimate heir and put a secondary son in his place. Yet Gu and Nan were able to yield to one another, so gentlemen could feel shame before Xiangzhong. However, Xiangzhong in the end could not escape the disaster of being buried in the horse stable. An ancient book says, "A ruler who begins in this way will also end in this way." Qingfu killed the lords Ban and Min of Lu, and Xiangzhong killed the lords E and Shi, the circumstances being the same. Since this is so, even if one wished not to die, how could one avoid death?

The Book of Han (Hanshu) records that Liu De, King of Hejian, was an elder brother of Emperor Wu of Han. He was diligent in study, fond of ancient books, and practical in his affairs, seeking the truth behind them. When he obtained good books from the common people, he would copy one version and return it to its owner, keep the original, and reward the owner with gold and silk. As a result, men of the Way from the four quarters came to him from a thousand li away, and some presented the books their ancestors had handed down. The number of books he collected therefore rivaled the imperial archives of the Han. These were all ancient texts of the pre-Qin period, including the Zhouguan, Shangshu, Li, Liji, Mengzi, and Laozi, as well as scriptures, commentaries and annotations, doctrines and records, and the discourses of the seventy disciples. He promoted the study of the Six Arts (the six classics of the Confucian school), and he established academic chairs for the Mao Odes (Maoshi) and the Zuo Spring and Autumn Annals (Zuoshi Chunqiu). He practiced ritual and music, followed Confucian learning, and his bearing and speech never departed from the manner of a Confucian scholar. Many Confucian scholars of the Shandong region associated with him. In the time of Emperor Wu of Han...

When the Prince of Hejian came to court, they presented orthodox ritual music (yayue) and answered more than thirty questions posed by imperial edict at the Hall of the Three Harmonies (Sanyong Gong), a Han-dynasty palace where ritual, music, and moral instruction were discussed. Their answers probed the arts of the Dao (daoshu), their words hit the mark, and their reasoning was clear. In the twenty-sixth year of the Jianyuan era, the Prince of Hejian died. The Lieutenant Chang Li memorialized: "The king was upright in conduct and skilled in governance, gentle and benevolent, respectful and frugal, sincerely reverent toward others, caring for the people, perceptive and far-sighted, and especially generous toward widowers, widows, orphans, and the childless." The official in charge of ritual, relying on the posthumous naming system (shifa), which assigned titles to rulers and lords after death, memorialized: "Wise and perceptive, such a one is called 'Xian' (Presented)." They were therefore given the posthumous title "King Xian."

The Hongdao Lu (Record of Spreading the Dao) says: Ever since the Western Han rose in contempt for ritual propriety and in insulting Confucian scholars, among the hereditary feudal kings, some numbered several hundred, yet most were arrogant, licentious, and strayed from the proper way, rebellious and violent, wicked and depraved, capable of any wrongdoing. Could it be that Heaven endowed them with differing talents? No, their minds fell into confusion. What wrong had those Confucian scholars done to the people of the world? The deeds of sage rulers such as Yao, Shun, Yu, and Tang were enough to serve as a standard for later ages, and they are recorded in the classics. The Prince of Hejian rectified their own person and governed well, gentle and benevolent, respectful and frugal. Compared with those who indulged in poisoning others and profited from ruin, how vast the difference! The histories praise them as "outstanding and surpassing the common," saying the Prince of Hejian approached such character. Alas, they may truly be called benevolent.

The Book of the Later Han records that Liu Jiang, Prince Gong of Donghai, was the son of Empress Guo and the elder brother of Emperor Ming. In the second year of the Jianwu era, they were made crown prince. Seventeen years later, Empress Guo was deposed. Liu Jiang was often anxious and fearful, and several times, through attendants and other princes, expressed their sincerity to Emperor Guangwu, offering to retire to a fief so they could care for their mother. Emperor Guangwu could not bear to agree and hesitated for several years. In the sixth month of the nineteenth year of Jianwu, Emperor Guangwu issued an edict stating that the crown prince Liu Jiang valued humility, yet the bond between father and son was hard to sever, so the arrangement had remained unchanged for a long time. Later, they made Liu Jiang King of Donghai and replaced the crown prince with Liu Yang.

Yuan Hong commented: Prince Liu Jiang of Donghai voluntarily requested to retire to a fief, and their humility became more evident. After Emperor Ming succeeded to the throne, the brotherly affection between them grew even deeper. Though one was deposed and the other enthroned, the genuine feeling between father, son, and brothers was not severed.

The Hongdao Lu says: I observe that rulers who rise in accord with the times often draw lessons from what has already happened. Changing the crown prince was precisely a response to the difficult circumstances of the time. Even a wise ruler like Emperor Ming, had they not made arrangements in advance, might have repeated the turmoil of the Former Han. Later, in the first year of the Yongping era, Liu Jiang indeed died of illness. Emperor Ming had foreseen such an outcome, yet still managed to preserve the heartfelt affection between brothers to the end. This is perhaps what the Book of Odes calls "steadfast and abundant blessings."

Prince Xian of Dongping, Liu Cang, was a younger brother of Emperor Ming, who was very fond of him and doted on him. In the eleventh year of the Yongping era, Liu Cang came to court to pay his respects and stayed for more than a month before returning to his domain. The emperor personally escorted him back to the palace, and after they parted, he felt a sense of loss and longing. He therefore sent an envoy bearing an autograph edict to bestow upon him. The edict read:

"After our parting, I sat alone and felt melancholy. I then mounted my carriage and, leaning forward against the carriage rail, chanted and gazed into the distance toward you. My longing for you truly wearies my heart. Long ago I asked you what brought you the greatest joy at home, and you answered, 'Doing good brings the greatest joy.' That saying carries deep meaning, and it truly accords with my own heart. Now I present you with nineteen seals of marquis. For your sons who have reached the age of five and can walk briskly and perform the ritual bow, let them all wear them."

The Hongdao Lu comments: That the Prince of Dongping found joy in doing good is a fine tale that has been handed down through the ages. "Huanghuang" means beautiful, and beauty means goodness, sincerity, and inner fullness. Those who gather wandering scholars to spread their fame and win prominent reputations do not embody goodness, sincerity, or inner fullness, much less those who fashion golden tortoises and jade cranes or carve talismans to manufacture auspicious omens. The emperor's praise of Liu Cang was indeed well founded. Some also say that "doing good brings the greatest joy" probably means doing good without seeking anything in return. If one acts without a mind to gain, what affair could one not accomplish well?

Jiang Gong, styled Bohuai, came from a distinguished family, as did his younger brothers Zhonghai and Jijiang, and all three were renowned for filial piety. The brothers were deeply attached to one another, and their closeness came naturally, so they often lived and dwelt together. Even after each had taken a wife, the brothers still could not bear to sleep apart; they took turns going to their wives' quarters only so that the family could carry on its line. Jiang Gong was broadly learned in the Five Classics and was also well versed in astronomy and the stars. Many scholars came from distant places to study under him. The court summoned and appointed him repeatedly, but he declined every time. His two younger brothers also gained fame in succession and likewise refused summonses. The attendants at court admired the three, so Emperor Huan sent men to Pengcheng to have painters draw their likenesses and present them to him. Jiang Gong hid himself in a dim corner, covered his face with a quilt, and claimed to be dizzy and unable to go out. In the end, the painters were never able to see him.

The Hongdao Lu comments: Jiang Gong's integrity reached such a depth. The Book of Odes says, "Though we have seven sons, none can console our mother's heart." Jiang Gong may be said to be a man who truly consoled his mother's heart. As for whether a wise and virtuous person's counsel could move him through words, whether the deeds of Xiang, Ta, Lan, and Dai could be discerned from their expressions, whether the affairs of Xiqiu and Yuanji created rifts through provocation, and whether the sayings of "empty jar" and "repeated shame" cause grief over past events, all these accounts involve the allusions of the ancients. Although the Jiang brothers each established his own household, they did not abandon the bonds of affection between brothers. A mother's kindness and a younger brother's devotion arose from the heart, and their fame spread far. There is no need to examine them through their facial expressions.

He did not become famous through being summoned to office, nor did he get caught up in factional strife and its disasters. He brought no calamity upon himself, and he served his parents to the end of their lives with a cheerful, gentle countenance. His integrity was upright and expansive, and he was at ease with himself, so when he died there was little cause for grief. Measured by the standards the Kong men (Confucius and his disciples) praised, was he not precisely the kind of person who "remained content in poverty and delighted in walking the Dao"?

The Xie Cheng Shu (Book of Xie Cheng) records that Gong's stepmother was young and of a severe temperament. Gong, mindful of the teaching of the Kaifeng ("Southern Breeze," an ode in the Shijing praising a mother's nurturing care), shared a room with his brothers and would not enter his own chamber, in order to comfort his mother.

The Jin Shu (History of the Jin) records that Wang Lan, the younger brother of Wang Xiang, had a mother, Lady Zhu, who treated Wang Xiang very badly. When Wang Lan was only a few years old and saw Wang Xiang being whipped, he wept and threw his arms around him. As he grew older, he often urged his mother, and only then did Lady Zhu's cruelty gradually subside. When Lady Zhu repeatedly and unreasonably ordered Wang Xiang about, Wang Lan always joined him in the work. When she mistreated Wang Xiang's wife, Wang Lan's wife also came forward to share the burden.

After Wang Xiang's father died, Wang Xiang gradually gained a good reputation, and Lady Zhu came to hate him intensely. She secretly sent someone to poison him with wine. When Wang Lan learned of this, he immediately rose and went to fetch the wine. Wang Xiang grew suspicious and would not drink it. Lady Zhu then snatched the cup and poured the wine back out. From that time on, whenever Lady Zhu gave Wang Xiang food, Wang Lan always tasted it first. Lady Zhu, frightened, finally stopped her attempts to harm him.

Wang Lan was filial to his parents and affectionate toward his elder brothers, and he was respectful and upright. His reputation was second only to that of Wang Xiang. After Wang Xiang took office, Wang Lan also answered the summons of his commandery and entered public service.

Earlier, Lü Qian possessed a sword. A man skilled in judging swords said that whoever wore this sword would surely rise to the rank of the Three Ducal Ministers (the highest offices of antiquity), and that if the sword were worn by an unsuitable person, it might also bring harm. Lü Qian, believing that Wang Xiang had the bearing to assist the state and hold high office, gave the sword to him. On his deathbed, Wang Xiang handed the sword to Wang Lan, saying, "You will surely flourish in the future and will be worthy of this sword." Afterward, the Wang family did indeed produce talented men generation after generation and rose to prominence in Jiangzuo (the region along the lower Yangzi River).

Wang Lan had six sons: Cai, styled Shichu, who served as Chief Clerk to the Army Commander; Ji, styled Shixian, who served as Attendant Censor; Hui, styled Shihe, who served as Attendant Censor; Zheng, styled Shize, who served as Gentleman of the Secretariat; Yan, styled Shizhi, who served as Commandant of the Central Guards; and Chen, styled Shiwei, who served as Director of the Imperial Academy. Wang Cai's son, Wang Dao, later became a renowned chancellor.

The Hongdao Lu (Record of Expanding the Dao) comments: Wang Xiang served his parents without shirking his duty; Wang Lan served his elder brother in a way that merited entrusting him with responsibility. When his father showed favor to another, Wang Xiang handled the situation with composure; when his mother was cruel and abusive, Wang Lan did not become estranged from her. In the end, filial sons and fraternal younger brothers gathered in the same household, and the auspicious and harmonious qi extended to later generations. This was Heaven assisting them in establishing their fame, and it also allowed the fortunes of the Eastern Jin to endure for several generations.

It is true that the story of Lü Qian giving away the sword may not be entirely credible. Yet is this not also an auspicious sign (niu jin)? Although Emperor Yuan received the Mandate of Heaven, Wang Dao in fact laid its foundations. Such omens had long been visible. Were they not the response evoked by conformity with virtue?

The Jiu Tang Shu (Old History of the Tang) records: Li Chengqi, Prince of Song, and Li Chengyi, Prince of Shen, were the elder brothers of Emperor Xuanzong of Tang. Prince Qi...

Princes Fan, Xue, and Ye were the emperor's younger brothers, and Princes You and Shouli were his cousins. They were deeply devoted to one another, a bond rarely matched in recent times. In the early years of the Shengli reign, when they reached adulthood and left the palace, the emperor arranged residences for them in Jishan Ward in the eastern capital, Luoyang. The five lived in separate compounds but shared their daily lives.

In the first year of the Dazu era, the five accompanied the emperor to the western capital, Chang'an, where he granted them residences in Xingqing Ward. After the Xiantian years, Xingqing Ward became the place where the emperor had once lived in hiding, so it was rebuilt as a palace. Towers and pavilions were built in the southwest of the palace grounds. The plaque on the western tower read "Pavilion of Mutually Brilliant Calyxes," and the one on the southern tower read "Pavilion of Diligent Governance and Fundamental Duty."

Whenever the emperor heard music coming from the princes' residences, he would summon them to the tower, where they sat together on one couch, held banquets, and talked and laughed. At other times he visited their homes in person, bestowing gold and silk and letting them enjoy themselves to the fullest. Prince Song was especially respectful and cautious. He never interfered in state affairs and never formed factions with others, so the emperor valued him all the more.

The emperor once wrote to Prince Song: "Emperor Wen of Wei had a poem: 'On the western mountain, always at its loftiest point, there is the ever-present Limitless. Upon the mountain dwell two immortal youths who neither drink nor eat. They bestow on me a single pill, whose radiance shows five colors. After taking the medicine for four or five days, the body grows light, as if feathers were sprouting.' I have often thought of taking such an immortal elixir and sprouting wings. But how could that compare with the brothers born of the same flesh and blood, who serve as my wings?

"In the past, Prince Chen Si of Wei had the talent to assist a ruler and govern the realm, yet Emperor Wen of Wei cut off his chances to attend court and see the emperor, and in the end this drove him to melancholy and an early death. The Wei dynasty had not yet run its full course before Sima Yi seized power. Could this have been the effect of a divine medicine? Yu Shun was a sage of supreme perfection, and yet he was still able to forgive the arrogant Xiang. This is the standard that rulers ought to follow. Each time I have thought on this, I have forgotten my meals and sleep, filled with admiration and awe.

"Recently, in my leisure, I obtained this divine prescription. Now I wish to share the medicine with my brothers, so that together we may nourish our health and live long, without end."

The Hongdao Lu comments: The line for the fifth hexagram of the Yijing's Yi (Increase) hexagram reads, "With sincere heart and generous kindness toward others, no divination is needed, for great good fortune is known in advance." The commentary on the image explains, "With a sincere heart and a generous spirit toward others, good fortune is known without divination; and others will also cherish one's kindness, because their aspirations are fully realized."

Emperor Xuanzong's achievements were brilliant and his prestige lofty, while the five princes were modest and self-restrained, responding in harmony with the course of events. This accorded with Heavenly Principle and brought peace to the heart. Trust and mutual understanding flourished among the brothers, and their affection arose naturally. In those days the state enjoyed lasting stability and the people rejoiced, so great fortune could be known without divination. Since the princes repaid their sovereign's kindness with utmost sincerity, they were able to devise plans and advance the principles of good governance, so that the ruler's aspirations were fully realized. This was precisely the Kaiyuan era…

The governance of the Tang was as admirable as in the Zhenguan era. What fault could be found in it?

The Book of Tang (Tangshu) records that Zhang Gongyi's nine generations lived together under one roof. From the Northern Qi, Sui, and Tang dynasties onward, the court repeatedly honored his household and erected commemorative archways (paifang) before its gate. During the Linde era, when Emperor Gaozong performed the feng and shan sacrifices at Mount Tai, he personally visited the household, summoned Zhang Gongyi, and asked how the family kept itself in harmony. Zhang had paper and brushes brought in and wrote over a hundred characters for "endurance" (ren), which he presented to the emperor.

He held that discord within a clan usually arose because elders distributed food and clothing unevenly and junior members neglected proper ritual. When people blame and resent one another, quarrels follow. If everyone is willing to yield to one another, the household will be harmonious.

The Commentary on Broadening the Way (Hongdao Lu) remarks: "Endurance (ren), at root, is the heart that cannot bear to harm others, and this unbearing heart is the heart of Heaven. A family of nine generations living together acts from natural affection, and those who share a surname cannot easily change their kinship. To regard the nine degrees of kin as one person, and nine generations as a single generation, what could prevent them from living together? If endurance is enforced only through force, without attentiveness to others or any feeling of compassion, then it becomes a 'blade-heart' (renxin), a forbearance that wounds like a knife's edge. Zhang Gongyi's intention, presumably, was not this."

Yuan Dexiu, courtesy name Ziwei, was plain and honest and disliked ornament. Because he had not married while his parents were alive, he later refused to take a wife. When someone warned that this would cut off the family line, he replied, "My elder brother has a son who can perform the ancestral sacrifices. Why should I take a wife?" When his nephew came of age and it was time to arrange his marriage, the household was very poor, so Yuan Dexiu requested appointment as magistrate of Lushan.

Emperor Xuanzong held a grand banquet beneath the Wufeng Tower in the eastern capital, Luoyang, and ordered the magistrates and prefects within three hundred li to bring their musicians. Yuan Dexiu sent several dozen musicians, who linked hands and sang the ode "Yu Wei." When the emperor heard it, he found it extraordinary and sighed, "These are truly the words of a worthy man!"

Yuan Dexiu used his entire salary to support other people's orphans and bereaved dependents. When his term ended, he loved the mountains and waters of Luhun and settled there. His household had no walls or locks, and no servants or concubines. In lean years he sometimes did not cook at all, yet he would calmly play the qin for his own enjoyment. He was especially skilled at writing prose. Fang Guan often sighed, "Seeing Ziwei's bearing, one's desire for fame and profit vanishes entirely." Su Yuanming told others, "I was unfortunate to be born in a declining age, but fortunately I am not ashamed to have known Yuan Ziwei."

When Yuan Dexiu died, his younger brother Yuan Jie wept bitterly. Some said he wept excessively and violated proper ritual. Yuan Jie replied, "If you know the faults in ritual..." The original text breaks off here.

Lord Lushan (Yan Lushan, a Tang dynasty official) had a noble character, was indifferent to worldly gain, and held no fixed private attachments or single-minded pursuits. Even in old age he remained at peace with himself, and he left no descendants after his death. He lacked the things people usually crave and cling to. He lived to sixty without keeping a woman. He owned not ten mu of land nor a dwelling ten feet square. His ten-year-old nephew did not have a single complete set of cloth clothing. Yet he grieved over these circumstances, believing they served as a warning to those who were debauched, greedy, fawning, and given to fine clothes and rich food.

The Hongdao Lu (Record of Broadening the Way) says: I observe that Lord Lushan was placid in his conduct, as if no speck of dust clouded the great void, and magnanimous in his bearing, as if the clear deep pool held not a grain of silt. He personally nursed his elder brother's son, a deed rarely heard of since antiquity, and it is truly difficult for anyone to follow his example, so I will not elaborate further. However, the Jin Shu (History of the Jin) records that his disciple Sui Fu observed three years of mourning for him, whereas the Tang Shu (History of the Tang) does not record the name of Lord Lushan's elder brother's son and does not mention that the nephew mourned him. Therefore this book specifically records Yuan Jie (courtesy name Cishan) and his sorrow at Lord Lushan's death. In general, grief arises from feeling, while mourning is a matter of ritual propriety. If we measure the matter by the two principles of loving care in raising a child and attending to the continuation of the line, the nephew should have observed mourning for him. Did the histories truly omit this by oversight?

The Song Shi (History of the Song) records that Emperor Taizu of Song was benevolent, filial, and simple in nature, and acted in accordance with his own heart. When his younger brother, Prince Zhao Guangyi of Jin, once fell gravely ill, Taizu personally went to visit him and even moxibustion-treated him with his own hands. When the prince felt pain, Taizu also applied moxa to himself in order to share his brother's suffering. Taizu often said to his close ministers, "The Prince of Jin moves like a dragon and strides like a tiger. He will certainly become a ruler of lasting peace. His good fortune is something I cannot match."

The Hongdao Lu says: At the time of the Chenqiao mutiny, the Prince of Jin and the generals first set the event in motion and only afterward reported it upward. What is called the Song's supplanting of the Later Zhou in fact began at that moment. Given this, the saying "moves like a dragon and strides like a tiger" was already manifest on the day when the sunlight shimmered. Taizu's sharing of his brother's pain through moxibustion also confirms his claim that the Prince of Jin would possess the fortune to bring peace. As for the tale of the "axe sounds and candle shadows," the monk Wenying credulously repeated rumor and spread error, and Li Shou, by transmitting doubtful accounts, misled Hu and Chen. Therefore Qiu Jun (courtesy name Qiongshan) deliberately relied on the orthodox histories to clarify that these accounts are untrue.

I hold that the reason later generations have used to prove that Emperor Taizong of Song committed wrongdoing lies chiefly in his later harshness toward his younger brother. People then came to doubt his earlier attitude toward his elder brother and his handling of his nephew, and from there went on to attach the crime of regicide to him. In truth, Emperor Taizu was benevolent and filial by nature. Even if the Prince of Jin later showed unworthy conduct, how could Taizu have easily brought himself to harm him? This book sets the matter straight through reasoning, and therefore makes this clarification specifically.

Duke Fan Wenzheng (Fan Zhongyan) admonished his sons, saying: "When I was poor, your mother and I together served my parents. Your mother cooked with her own hands, yet my parents never had even one full meal. Now that I have a generous stipend, I had hoped to care for my parents well, but they are already gone, and your mother also passed away early. My deepest regret is this: how could I bear to let you alone enjoy wealth and rank?

"My clan in Wuzhong is very large. For me, there are naturally distinctions of closeness and distance. But from the standpoint of our ancestors, all of them are descendants, and there is originally no difference between near and far. Since our ancestors held no such distinctions in their hearts, how could I fail to help those among them who are poor, hungry, and cold?

"Moreover, since our ancestors accumulated virtue, more than a hundred years have passed before my generation finally rose to prominence and became a high official. If I alone enjoyed wealth and did not look after the clan, how could I face our ancestors in the afterlife? And with what face could I then enter the ancestral temple?"

Accordingly, Fan Zhongyan often divided among his clansmen the stipends and rewards he received by imperial grace. He also used all of his surplus income to buy stable, productive fields near the city walls, totaling one thousand mu, which were called the yitian (charitable fields), land set aside to support the clan and relieve its members in need.

The Hongdao Lu comments: Duke Fan Wenzheng cherished lofty aspirations before he rose to prominence, and once he attained high office, he put those aspirations into practice. Since the written record began, only this gentleman has fully achieved this. I have inquired into the reasons he was able to do so, and I find four. First, his heart was upright. Second, several generations of his family were virtuous. Third, the social customs were sincere and honest. Fourth, the ruler's virtue was exalted.

While he was still a scholar, he had already resolved to "be the first to worry about the world's troubles and the last to enjoy its pleasures." Possessing such insight, he possessed such breadth of heart. This is the first reason, his upright heart. He took Fan Chunren and others as his sons, and these sons inherited his aspirations and continued his undertakings. How could they fail to take their father's upright heart as their own? This is the second reason, that several generations of his family were virtuous.

Now, to establish one thousand mu of stable, productive fields near the city walls not only invites envy and slander but also risks b

Whether an action is right or wrong sometimes depends on circumstances. When the times are unfavorable, one may only withdraw, endure, and sigh at length. When misfortune strikes, one may be willing to sink into obscurity. To be so cautious in admiring the ancients is hardly comparable to their conduct. A person's inner intention bears on how public and private are distinguished, whether one's descendants are wise or foolish, whether customs are good or corrupt, and whether the world prospers or declines. It is not merely a matter of relieving some immediate hardship.

Sima Dan (a man of the Northern Song) and his younger brother Sima Guang shared a deep fraternal bond. When Sima Dan was nearly eighty, Sima Guang served him as he would a stern father and cared for him as he would an infant. Shortly after each meal, Sima Guang would ask, "Are you hungry again?" When the weather turned a little cold, he would stroke his elder brother's back and ask, "Is your clothing too thin?"

Later, Sima Guang lived in Luoyang, while Sima Dan lived in Xia County. Sima Guang had gardens and ponds of great beauty, and he visited his elder brother every year. Sima Dan also occasionally came to Luoyang to see him. When Sima Guang discussed the affairs of the realm, Sima Dan could often offer counsel and help.

Later, Sima Guang was summoned by the court and appointed Vice Director of the Chancellery (menxia shilang), but he firmly declined and would not take up the post. Sima Dan urged him with appeal to the greater principle: "All your life you have studied the Way of Yao and Shun, and you have hoped to assist your sovereign in bringing about a well-governed age. Now that the time has come, to turn away from this aspiration is not the proper way to advance or withdraw." Sima Guang then changed his mind and set out for his post. At the time, people throughout the realm had feared that Sima Guang would never take office. When they heard Sima Dan's words, they were all delighted and praised him, saying, "This is the insight of an elder."

The Hongdao Lu comments: In the hexagram Tongren (Fellowship with Men) of the Book of Changes, the second line is correctly placed, keeps to the Mean and to correctness, and corresponds to the fifth line. Does this not describe Sima Guang? The fifth line is strong, central, and correct, and it corresponds to the second line. Does this not describe Sima Dan? Sima Guang discerned principle clearly and assisted his sovereign, and so his service became something the people of the realm welcomed. Sima Dan, through sincere heart and communion with principle, made manifest the great righteousness of the realm. Even a hundred generations later, one can still discern from these accounts what kind of persons they were.

Cheng Yichuan (Cheng Yi), writing the preface to the biographical account of his elder brother, Master Mingdao (Cheng Hao), said: The Master was exceptionally gifted and skilled in cultivating his inner nature. His character was pure and refined, like gold that has been tempered, and gentle and lustrous, like fine jade. He was generous yet principled, amiable yet not swayed by the crowd, steadfast in loyalty, so that even metal and stone would be moved by him. He was filial and fraternal, so that even the spirits responded to him. To look at his countenance was to be warmed as by spring sunlight; to hear his words was to have them enter the heart like timely rain. His mind was clear and transparent, and nothing in things obstructed his vision. To measure the depth of his cultivation was to face a sea without shore. The beauty of his virtue truly cannot be described in words. In cultivating himself, he took inner reverence as the foundation, and in dealing with others, he extended forbearance and understanding. Upon witnessing good deeds, he rejoiced as if they were his own. He did not impose upon others what he himself would not wish to bear. He dwelt securely in benevolence and walked along the right path.

Words should have substance, actions should follow established principles, and one should understand the many kinds of things as well as the bonds and duties among people. To pursue knowledge to its utmost and grasp the principles of nature and life, one must take filial piety and fraternal respect as the foundation. To investigate the mysteries and understand change, one must begin with ritual and music. One must distinguish the seemingly plausible but mistaken claims of heterodox teachings and resolve doubts that have remained unanswered for generations. Since the Qin and Han dynasties, no one has attained this level of understanding.

The Hongdao Lu says: The Great Taming hexagram symbolizes strength and firmness, with radiance made manifest and spread widely. Thus, the supreme De of Cheng Bochun (Cheng Hao) was no mere talk, and the writings of Cheng Zhengshu (Cheng Yi) were no exaggerated praise. The brothers’ virtue and learning were like auspicious clouds on a bright day: people looked up and saw their light reach in every direction. They were also like gentle winds and nourishing rain: people bathed in them and felt their moisture reach everywhere. In establishing virtue and leaving behind their words, they truly went no further than this.

Gazetteer of Siming

The family lineage of the brothers Yang Wenyi and Yang Wenyi’s brother in our dynasty was as follows. Their father, Liufu, whose courtesy name was Qiyun, had three sons: Zicheng, Ziyu, and Zimin. Zicheng, known as Master Meidu, had sons Shouchen, who rose to Vice Minister of Personnel, and Shouzhi, who became Minister of Personnel in Nanjing. Ziyu, known as Master Jiansu, had a son, Shousui, who became Minister of Works. Zimin, known as Master Weian, had a son, Shouyu, who became Right Regional Administration Commissioner of Guangxi. Among the next generation, Maoyuan rose to Vice Minister of Justice, and Maoren served as Surveillance Commissioner of Sichuan. These men were also sons of Lord Wenyi.

Qiyun was thoroughly versed in the Book of Changes, the Book of Documents, and the Book of Poetry. He diligently pursued the learning transmitted by the Confucian scholars of Lianxi, Luoyang, Guanzhong, and Fujian. Upright by nature, he practiced sincerity with steadfastness. In his later years, his self-cultivation grew still more refined, and he therefore changed his style name to Sicheng, “Thoughtful Sincerity.” Lord Wenyi was known as Jingchuan, and his younger brother as Bichuan. Wenyi was naturally filial and fraternal, and treated his younger brother with warmth and harmony. They learned from and encouraged one another.

Looking back, the Yang family carried forward the scholarly tradition of earlier Confucians; closer to home, it also inherited and developed its own family learning. In the Siming region, Yang Cihu studied under Lu Xiangshan, and Huang Dongfa under Zhu Xi. Both grasped exceptionally well how substance and function run through one another, how principle is put into practice, and how what is hidden is brought to light. Scholars held them in great esteem. Qiyun truly inherited this tradition, and Lord Wenyi brought it to fuller expression.

At first, Lord Wenyi studied the ancient classics to seek the meaning that lay beyond the sages’ words. He did not regard commentaries, textual glosses, and literary composition as the whole of learning. Accordingly, whether disciplining himself, managing his household, serving in office, or dealing with others, he remained consistent and never gave himself the slightest license. His sons and younger relatives all observed ritual and law, refusing to submit to what was unjust for the sake of profit. They believed that the principles spoken of by the ancients could indeed be put into practice.

Lord Wenyi once strenuously declined a post in the Ministry of Personnel, saying, “The Ministry of Personnel controls the appointments, dismissals, promotions, and demotions of officials, so everyone’s resentment gathers there. Even someone as respected as Wang Shu is still criticized; what of…”

How could a dull and shortsighted subordinate possibly shoulder such a heavy responsibility? I replied again: rulers may be replaced, but history cannot be erased.

Previously, the official historians did not record the deeds of the Jianwen Emperor (Zhu Yunwen, the Ming dynasty’s second emperor). As a result, the court’s affairs during the Jianchu years (the years after the Yongle Emperor abolished the Jianwen reign title), along with those who faithfully fulfilled their duties, were buried beyond all possibility of verification. Now that the work of gathering and organizing these records has begun, the gaps in the national history may still be repaired. The Jingtai Emperor (Zhu Qiyu, the Ming dynasty’s Emperor Daizong) has already had his imperial title restored, yet the Veritable Records (the historical record of an emperor’s words, actions, and government affairs) still call him “Prince Chengli.” This should be corrected. The old practice should also be restored: all memorials submitted by officials and kept in the palace by the emperor, without being returned or answered, should be handed over to the historiographers’ office. These are all perceptive arguments.

The Hongdao lu comments: Song Lian, styled Qianxi, refused to serve as chief minister, and Yang Tinghe, styled Jingchuan, refused a post in the Ministry of Personnel. Both were Zhejiang Confucian scholars devoted to the Way; one might say they restrained their selfish desires and gave themselves fully to their duties. It is now rare to find people their equal. This passage is recorded here.

Hongdao lu, Scroll Eight

Hongdao lu fu, Part Two

Benevolence

Benevolence among Friends

In the Tongshu, Zhou Dunyi, a Northern Song thinker known as Master Zhou, says: “The Dao is lofty and far-reaching, De is deep and substantial, and its transformative teaching is inexhaustible. Surely only Confucius could stand alongside Heaven and Earth and move in rhythm with the four seasons.”

The Dao is lofty and far-reaching like Heaven, and belongs to Yang; De is deep and substantial like Earth, and belongs to Yin; and inexhaustible transformation is like the movement of the four seasons—that is, the generative transformations of the Five Phases (Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, Water). Confucius, perhaps, was the Taiji (Supreme Ultimate, the root of the generation and transformation of all things).

The Hongdao lu comments: As the teacher revered by all ages, Confucius deserves the same honor as Yao and Shun. Thus Zai Wo said that Confucius surpassed Yao and Shun, while Zigong said that no one like Confucius had appeared since the beginning of humanity. Yet Confucius himself was never directly compared to the Taiji. What, then, is the basis for this claim?

The Book of Changes took shape gradually through the work of three sages. Zhou Dunyi illuminated the profound principles of change before and after Heaven and Earth took form, and those principles have their source in Confucius. Zhou Dunyi also revealed the profound meaning of the Taiji in Confucius’s thought. Thus, before the Taiji divided, it was merged in a state beyond knowing or speaking, wondrous in its silence and lack of visible form. After it divided, it was established before physical forms and material dispositions arose, and it continued to operate within the myriad things once form and material disposition were complete. In truth, it is the pivot of creation and transformation, and the root of the myriad things.

Why say that Confucius was the Taiji? Before virtue becomes manifest, the inner nature of benevolence, righteousness, propriety, and wisdom is fully contained within, complete in every respect. Once it becomes manifest, uprightness and harmony respond to whatever they encounter, and never fail to be appropriate. This is, in truth, the beginning of all sincerity and the key to the transformation of the myriad things.

Insofar as it shines forth and functions in its ongoing flow, Heaven brings life to and nurtures the myriad things through Yang energy, and the operation of the Dao becomes manifest. The sage, in turn, looks up and observes the Way of Heaven...

The more deeply one investigates, the more solid the principles appear, and the more inexhaustible they seem. Confucius’s quiet, profound Virtue (De) was likewise without bounds. Like the earth, he nurtured all things through the receptive virtue of Yin. This Virtue was subtle and difficult to perceive, yet Confucius remained sincere and benevolent, deep as an abyss. How could it be measured by any limit?

The seasons follow one another in order, each with its time: spring, summer, autumn, and winter. Confucius’s four subjects of instruction were the classics, the practice of conduct, loyalty, and trustworthiness. He taught according to each person’s abilities, giving everyone the cultivation suited to them. The Five Phases (Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, Water) each have their own nature. Taken together, then, the whole of all things was present in Confucius, like the Taiji (Supreme Ultimate), the fundamental unity that encompasses the universe. Considered separately, he could also enable each thing to develop and fulfill itself. All things arise from the same source, while each individual thing also possesses its own Taiji. Confucius was considered superior to Yao and Shun because his teaching was inexhaustible; no one since the beginning of the people had ever matched him, because his moral character was so vast and profound. Though the accounts differ, their principles accord with one another: what Confucius and his three disciples taught came down, in the end, to the same thing.

Yan Yuan (Yan Hui) asked Confucius about benevolence. Confucius said, “Master your selfish desires and bring your words and actions back to the standards of ritual propriety: this is benevolence. If you truly achieve self-restraint and a return to ritual propriety for even one day, all under Heaven will turn toward benevolence. The practice of benevolence depends on oneself. How could it depend on others?” Yan Yuan asked, “May I ask what this means in practice?” Confucius replied, “Do not look at what violates ritual propriety; do not listen to what violates ritual propriety; do not speak what violates ritual propriety; do not do what violates ritual propriety.” Yan Yuan said, “Though I, Yan Hui, am not intelligent, I am willing to put these words into practice.”

The Hongdao lu comments: This is the earliest discussion of benevolence in Confucius’s school, because its principles extend from the Sage down to everyday conduct. “All under Heaven will turn toward benevolence” describes the work of Yao and Shun: no person is left without a place to settle, and no thing is excluded from its proper nature and place. It is like opening the heart wide enough to reach throughout Heaven and Earth. “Mastering oneself and returning to ritual propriety,” by contrast, is the complete discipline achieved through the cultivation of sages: not a single thought goes against the principles of Heaven, and not a single action fails to accord with ritual. It is like gathering the heart inward and concealing it in the depths of what is subtle and hidden.

This is the highest reach of the Way of benevolence, and the profound, subtle principle of cultivating the heart and nature. What others do not know, one knows oneself; what others cannot do, one does oneself. Why seek help from outside? Confucius’s words to Yan Yuan held nothing back. If someone single-mindedly pursues lofty matters, busying themselves with talk of the “Four Numina and Nine Realms” (auspicious spiritual beings and the vast reaches of the cosmos); or if they cling only to what is close at hand, worrying that they are not yet pure enough or have not gone far enough, then Yan Hui was truly wise: he knew to ask about the specific details of benevolence in everyday life. Yao was known for reverence and trustworthiness, while Shun was known for sincerity and substance. To master selfish desires and practice benevolence, one must therefore begin by rectifying one’s seeing, hearing, speaking, and acting. That is why Confucius began by saying…

This passage from the Hongdao Lu primarily discusses Confucius's high praise for his disciple Yan Hui (courtesy name Ziyuan), revealing the realm of sagehood through several life details.

Confucius said that only by emulating the ancient sage-kings in observing all directions and listening broadly to opinions could one become a model for the world. When Yan Hui inquired about ren (humaneness), he did not merely ask a simple question but pressed for concrete methods of practice, demonstrating his aspiration to follow the sages. Yan Hui often remarked, "What kind of person was Shun? I too shall become such a person." This self-imposed demand was precisely the key to attaining sagehood.

Confucius particularly praised Yan Hui for being able to uphold ren without faltering for three consecutive months, while other disciples could only sustain it for a few days or a month at most. This did not mean the others regressed, but rather that Yan Hui had truly reached an extraordinary state—his mind was pure and wholly aligned with heavenly principle (tianli). Such sustained cultivation was exceedingly rare. Though others had moments of brilliance, none matched Yan Hui’s unwavering consistency. Confucius’s words were not meant to belittle his other disciples but to emphasize the difficulty of perfecting ren.

Most famously, Confucius marveled at Yan Hui’s attitude toward life: eating from a bamboo basket, drinking from a gourd, and dwelling in a shabby alley—conditions others found unbearable, yet Yan Hui remained joyful throughout. His happiness was not fleeting but stemmed from an inner fulfillment that transcended material deprivation. Confucius himself once said, "With coarse food to eat, cold water to drink, and a bent arm for a pillow—joy lies therein." This resonates with Yan Hui’s state, illustrating that true joy arises from inner cultivation (xiuyang), not external circumstances.

Through contrast, this passage highlights Yan Hui’s sagely character of "finding contentment in poverty while delighting in the Dao (ledao)." It also unveils the core of Confucian cultivation: through persistent spiritual refinement, one attains a liberated state unshaken by material conditions.

“Obtaining wealth and status through improper means is like floating clouds to me.”

The Record of Broadening the Way says: This is where Confucius and Yan Hui seem to differ, though in fact the gap between them is small. As for “not changing his joy,” perhaps Yan Hui was not always able to do this; “his joy is found within” describes someone wholly attuned to Heavenly principle, whose depth cannot be exhausted or confined to any fixed form. In practice, there is little difference between the two.

Confucius said, “Since I gained Yan Hui as a disciple, the other disciples have become closer to me day by day.”

The Record of Broadening the Way says: Becoming closer day by day does not mean that teacher and students observe one another, decide they admire what they see, and then follow and look up to one another. When Confucius taught, Yan Hui was never slack. Confucius did not need to say much for Yan Hui to understand. Yan Hui accepted everything with heartfelt conviction; even the slightest prompting was never wasted. I saw only his steady progress, never a pause—how could I not feel sincere delight? When I later observed his words and actions in private, I could see that he had grasped what I had taught—how could I not be pleased? “Is this not a joy?” refers to just this. Confucius guided Yan Hui step by step, giving him his utmost care; Yan Hui regarded Confucius as a father, and in some matters did not regard him merely as a teacher. How could teacher and student fail to grow closer day by day?

When Yan Yuan died, Confucius wept bitterly. His followers said, “You are grieving too bitterly.” Confucius replied, “Am I really grieving so bitterly? If I do not grieve for this man, for whom could I grieve?”

The Record of Broadening the Way says: Yan Yuan’s death meant that Heaven no longer cherished the Way; the capture of a unicorn while hunting in the west of Lu meant that Earth no longer cherished its treasures. Either event was enough to make Confucius grieve.

When Yan Yuan died, Confucius said, “Alas! Heaven is destroying me! Heaven is destroying me!”

The Record of Broadening the Way says: The life of a sage bears the Way. Whether the Way can be passed on is closely bound to the sage’s life: while the sage lives, the Way has a place to reside; when the sage is gone, the Way is difficult to transmit. Now that the Way cannot be passed on, it is as though I myself will cease to exist. When he said, “Heaven is destroying me,” was the sage claiming that later generations would surely revere him? No. He spoke this way because he loved the Way deeply. Later generations revere the sage because they truly admire the Way. When the Way is transmitted to later generations, the sage is as if he had not died. This shows how essential Yan Hui was to the transmission of the Way, and how crucial the bond between teacher and friend is to cultivating benevolence and virtue. To regard the way of teachers and friends as merely the last of the Five Relationships—ruler and subject, father and son, husband and wife, elder and younger brothers, and friends—is to have missed its true meaning.

Zengzi said, “A scholar cannot do without breadth of mind and strength of resolve, for his burden is heavy and his road is long. To make the practice of benevolence his responsibility—is that not a heavy burden? It lasts until death—is that not a long road?”

The Record of Broadening the Way says: These words reveal Zengzi’s resolve. Confucius’s words, “Let me put these teachings into practice,” express his willingness to act; Zengzi’s making benevolence his responsibility expresses his steadfast commitment. The highest wisdom…

Insight and understanding gained through inborn talent are called “clear wisdom”; intelligence developed through learning is called “broad resolve.” In the end, the principle is one and the same.

Zhongxi asked what it meant to be benevolent. Confucius said, “When you go out, treat people with the respect you would show an honored guest. When you put the people to work, be as careful as if you were conducting an important sacrifice. Do not impose on others what you would not wish to endure yourself. Then no one will resent you when you serve at court, and no one will resent you at home.”

Zhongxi said, “I, Yong, may not be very clever, but I am willing to do as you have said.”

The Record says: Confucius often praised Yong, saying that he could govern a state and serve as its ruler. So the words Confucius gave him here—treating people with respect when going out and being careful when putting the people to work—are important principles for governing a state. From these words, we can also picture Zhongxi’s bearing and exemplary character. Those who were taught by Confucius in person would have understood even more clearly his generous, steady, unassuming, and dignified manner. Among Confucius’s disciples, Yan Hui and Yong were both placed in the category of moral conduct. Hearing words so well suited to them, so clear and practicable, they would naturally understand and strive to put them into practice. How could they be unwilling to do so?

Someone said, “Yong has more than enough benevolence and virtue, but he is not good with words.” Confucius said, “Why rely on eloquence? Using a quick tongue to deal with others often makes people dislike you. I do not yet know whether he is truly benevolent; why should he need to be eloquent?”

The Record says: Benevolence and virtue are the opposite of clever eloquence; clever eloquence is a failing of benevolence. Yong governed himself through respect and treated others with a forgiving heart, so that he could avoid giving cause for resentment both within and beyond himself. That is why someone described him in this way. We can see that people at the time knew benevolence and virtue were good, but thought that having eloquence as well would make a person more exceptional. They were not lamenting that Yong was not good with words. People in the world often regard clever speech as an ability, without understanding its shortcomings. If a virtuous person naturally says what is fitting, that is not clever eloquence. Confucius therefore repeated, “Why rely on eloquence?” so that the other person would understand the matter thoroughly. When Confucius said, “I do not yet know whether he is truly benevolent,” this was like his reply in the Analects when Meng Wubo asked whether Zilu and Ran Qiu were benevolent: he was not denying that they had benevolence. Readers should consider this carefully.

Sima Niu asked what it meant to be benevolent. Confucius said, “A benevolent person is cautious and deliberate in speech.” Sima Niu said, “Can someone be called benevolent just because he is cautious and deliberate in speech?” Confucius replied, “Putting benevolence into practice is already difficult. How could one fail to be cautious and deliberate when speaking?”

The Record says: Sima Niu’s follow-up question was not without reason. He saw that the replies given to Yan Hui and Ran Qiu were both substantial, earnest principles suited to them, while the reply he received concerned words and expression. Perhaps he did not yet understand that specific requirements such as “Do not speak contrary to ritual propriety,” along with the practice of restraining oneself and returning to ritual, are precisely the key to putting benevolence into practice. Confucius did not say this merely because Sima Niu was talkative and impatient. If one is cautious in speech and does not speak indiscriminately, one can bring one’s eyes, ears, and whole person into accord with ritual propriety…

“Self-restraint and bringing one’s words and actions into accord with ritual propriety depend on this. It is a pity I have not heard you say, ‘Let me try to put this into practice,’ or grasp the meaning of ‘It is difficult to do.’ You worry and fear unceasingly, yet do not understand that the practice of benevolence depends on oneself. Is this perhaps why Yan Hui and Ran Qiu found it so difficult to attain benevolence?”

Fan Chi asked what it meant to be benevolent. Confucius said, “In your daily conduct, be respectful; in carrying out your duties, be earnest and careful; in your dealings with others, be loyal. Even in the lands of the Yi and Di—the remote regions inhabited by peoples the Central Plains called foreigners—you must not abandon these principles.”

The Hongdao lu comments: “This is what is most immediate and practical for those who study. If you cannot yet show the reverence you would show when receiving an honored guest, first require yourself to behave with humility. If you cannot yet show the care you would bring to an important sacrifice, first require yourself to act with earnest respect. If you cannot yet follow the principle ‘Do not impose on others what you yourself do not desire,’ first require yourself to be loyal in your dealings with others. Confucius mentioned the Yi and Di deliberately to stress that these principles must never be abandoned, wherever one may be. Fan Chi had limited abilities; he could still be encouraged to study among Confucius’s disciples, but in the lands of the Yi and Di he would surely find it even harder to persevere. Confucius was admonishing him in light of his particular shortcomings. This is not the same as the saying, ‘Do not incur resentment at court or at home.’”

Fan Chi again asked what it meant to be benevolent. Confucius said, “Work hard first, and speak of the rewards afterward. That may be called benevolence.”

The Hongdao lu comments: “I have observed that among Confucius’s disciples, no one asked him what benevolence meant as often as Fan Chi did. Yet in the end he still failed to grasp the Sage’s Way. Why? Perhaps it was because learning in Confucius’s school required acting without seeking personal gain. Confucius said, ‘Pursue the Way, not food and clothing,’ but we never hear that Fan Chi asked to learn how to grow grain. Confucius also said, ‘Even if you farm with your own hands, you may still go hungry,’ but we never hear that Fan Chi asked to learn how to grow vegetables. Fan Chi was close to the Sage and studied in Confucius’s school, yet still behaved this way. By contrast, the Han dynasty Confucian Dong Zhongshu understood the principle ‘Uphold what is right without seeking private gain; expound the Great Way without counting one’s achievements.’ Can such principles really be treated as ordinary sayings? Those who study should ponder them carefully.”

Fan Chi asked what it meant to be benevolent. Confucius said, “Benevolence means loving people.” Fan Chi then asked what it meant to be wise. Confucius said, “Wisdom means understanding people.” Fan Chi did not understand, so Confucius said, “Choose the upright and place them above the crooked, and the crooked can be made upright.”

After Fan Chi left, he went to see Zixia and said, “Just now I asked Confucius what wisdom means. He said, ‘Choose the upright and place them above the crooked, and the crooked can be made upright.’ What did he mean?”

Zixia said, “How much meaning those words contain! When Shun ruled the world, he selected people from among the multitude and appointed Gao Yao, a worthy minister of legend. The unbenevolent then kept their distance. When Tang of Shang ruled the world, he too selected people from among the multitude and appointed Yi Yin, the worthy minister of Shang. The unbenevolent then kept their distance.”

The Hongdao lu comments: “In my view, Zixia’s words not only clarify what Confucius had left unsaid; people a thousand years from now will also find them impossible to deny. Why must one who rules the world choose the upright and reject the crooked? Because right and wrong, uprightness and crookedness, are often opposites: when the crooked gain power, the upright are bent until they become crooked; when the upright gain power, the crooked…”

Once people’s customs have been shaped through instruction, they can be transformed toward the right path; the difference between the two is scarcely more than a hair’s breadth. After the Tang dynasty secured the realm, it entrusted important responsibilities to Wei Zheng, and the customs inherited from the Sui were entirely swept away. After the Song dynasty secured the realm, it entrusted important responsibilities to Sima Guang, and the old policies of the Xining and Yuanfeng eras were soon changed. But later, when Li Linfu, a chancellor under Emperor Xuanzong of Tang, was given great authority, remonstrating officials who stood among the court’s ceremonial ranks were pushed aside and kept at a distance. When Zhang Dun, a Northern Song chancellor, was given great authority, frivolous and narrow-minded people filled the court.

When Confucius spoke of Lu’s lack of Zizang, a prince of Lu renowned for his virtue, was he blaming the state of Lu? Surely not. Otherwise, why would he have brought the matter up repeatedly to Duke Ai of Lu? Confucius’s intent was simply profound yet understated, suggestive without being fully spelled out. His outstanding disciples, both in virtue and ability, discussed and debated it among themselves, and only later did its meaning gradually become clear. Afterward, however, Zigong, a disciple of Confucius, became increasingly slow to understand and failed to grasp it. It seems, then, that understanding the principle may depend on whether one can discern when to advance and when to stop.

Zigong asked, “If someone extended generous benefits to the people and could provide relief to the multitude, what would you say? Could such a person be called benevolent?” Confucius replied, “How could that be merely benevolence? Such a person would surely be a sage! Even Yao and Shun might have found it difficult to do. A benevolent person is one who, wishing to establish himself, helps others establish themselves; wishing to make his way forward, he helps others make their way forward. To be able to infer what others want from one’s own desires may be called the way to practice benevolence.”

The Hongdao lu comments: Zigong’s natural gifts approached those of the exceptionally intelligent, yet he could not fully enter the realm of the sages because he pursued what was lofty to the exclusion of everything else. Zengzi’s natural gifts were limited, and he seemed slow, yet in the end he was able to carry on Confucius’s Way because he could draw comparisons from things close at hand. At the time, many people in Confucius’s school asked questions. Some cited examples and arranged their arguments, seeming to have grasped the point, but they did not realize that “extending generous benefits” was not the same as “loving everyone indiscriminately.” Benevolence, too, cannot be bestowed indiscriminately, without regard to whom it is directed. Zigong’s learning perhaps gained something from breadth but did not bring it back to what is essential; it therefore seemed expansive but lacked practical substance.

“Wishing to establish oneself” means standing firmly on one’s own; “wishing to make one’s way forward” means being able to advance with vigor. Both must be regulated by ritual propriety. These words guard against later generations continuing to claim that “loving everyone indiscriminately” is benevolence. This shows that the problem was not that seeking fundamental principles was wrong in itself, but that one understood them through words alone without putting them into practice within the bounds of ritual propriety. The claim that one must regulate oneself through ritual propriety is indeed apt.

Zigong then asked how to practice benevolence. Confucius said, “A craftsman who wants to do good work must first sharpen his tools. In this state, serve worthy ministers and associate with benevolent men.”

The Hongdao lu comments: By this point, Zigong had probably realized that his earlier thinking was mistaken, and so he asked again how to practice benevolence. It was as if he were saying, “Please let me put your words into practice.” “Wishing to establish oneself, one helps others establish themselves; wishing to make one’s way forward, one helps others make their way forward”—these are not things one can accomplish merely by saying them. One must have…

When capable people hold positions of authority, they guide, support, and encourage those below them. When people of benevolence and virtue hold lower positions, they can also influence those around them through their own example. In this way, people often become outstandingly self-reliant and clear-sighted without even realizing it. Otherwise, how can someone who stands alone, without support, lead others? And if their own understanding is shallow, on what basis can they judge things or set an example for others? This is what weighs on me today: I want to find like-minded people to work with, but I have not found them.

Meng Wubo asked Confucius, “Is Zilu benevolent?” Confucius replied, “I do not know.” Meng Wubo asked again. Confucius said, “Zhong You (Zilu) could be entrusted with managing military levies in a feudal state with a thousand war chariots. As for whether he is benevolent, I do not know.”

Meng Wubo then asked, “What about Ran Qiu?” Confucius replied, “Ran Qiu could serve as chief administrator in a fief of a thousand households, or in the household of a high minister with a hundred war chariots. As for whether he is benevolent, I do not know.”

Meng Wubo asked once more, “What about Gongxi Chi?” Confucius said, “Gongxi Chi could wear formal court robes and stand in the royal court, responsible for speaking with and receiving guests. As for whether he is benevolent, I do not know.”

The Hongdao lu explains: Meng Wubo was the son of Meng Yizi, a high minister of Lu, and was also involved in government. By “benevolence,” he must have had something specific in mind, perhaps offering aid widely or doing what others considered impossible. At the time, Zilu, Ran You, and Gongxi Chi all served in the Meng household. Seeing their bearing, Meng Wubo believed they were each capable of accomplishing something, so he asked Confucius whether they were benevolent. He also knew that Confucius’s school held benevolence in the highest regard.

Confucius answered according to what each man could actually do: Zilu could manage military levies, Ran Qiu could serve as chief administrator, and Gongxi Chi could handle court protocol and guests. But these abilities alone did not warrant calling them “benevolent.” Benevolence is the complete virtue of a person’s original heart, and the Confucian school did not assign that judgment lightly. The three men’s abilities, meanwhile, were exactly what the Meng household needed and were not easy to find. Confucius’s reply neither diminished their genuine talents nor spoke of benevolence as if it were easily attained. This exchange is a model for later generations.

Zilu said, “I would gladly share my horses and carriages, clothes, and warm fur robes with my friends, and I would feel no regret even if they wore out.”

The Hongdao lu explains: Zilu wore coarse, worn-out clothes and was not ashamed. Now he says he would share his horses, carriages, and fur robes with his friends, feeling no regret even if they wore out. How are these two things different? There is no contradiction between them. The first shows that he was not ashamed of poverty or low status, and reflects his resolve to restrain himself. The second shows generosity toward others and a benevolent heart that treats things with openness. A person must first be resolved not to feel ashamed of poverty; only then can they give without calculating loss or gain.

For this reason, those who dress in finery and walk proudly through their home villages are scorned by people of discernment. And those who dress themselves up ostentatiously, like mayflies chasing outward glitter, are beneath the notice of people with purpose. Zilu felt no regret even when the things he shared wore out because he valued sharing with others and paid no heed to the gain or loss of possessions.

Confucius said, “As for being a sage or a person of benevolence, how could I dare claim such a title? But it would be fair to say that I never tire of practicing benevolence or teaching others.”

Gongxi Hua said, “That is precisely what we disciples cannot do and cannot learn from you.”

The Hongdao lu commentary explains: Here, “benevolence” means benevolence in its complete and undivided form, the original state of the Dao of Heaven. It differs from the benevolence discussed when a disciple asks about one particular matter and Confucius gives a specific answer. Confucius did not dare call himself a sage or benevolent person because he was not complacent; he was not merely deflecting someone else’s praise, nor was he simply offering a polite show of modesty. When he said that he never tired of practicing benevolence or teaching others, he was already approaching the pure, ceaseless state of the Dao of Heaven. To claim outright that one is a sage or benevolent person would only confuse learners. Moreover, as long as one still draws breath, this aspiration cannot slacken for even a moment. Only someone who remains whole and never ceases can achieve it. How could the disciples hope to learn it?

Zizhang asked Confucius about benevolence. Confucius said, “If you can put five virtues into practice throughout the world, you may be called benevolent.” Zizhang asked what the five were. Confucius replied, “Respectfulness, generosity, trustworthiness, diligence, and kindness. Be respectful, and you will not be insulted. Be generous, and the people will rally around you. Be trustworthy, and others will trust you and entrust you with responsibilities. Be diligent, and you will accomplish things. Show kindness, and people will be willing to follow your direction.”

The Hongdao lu commentary explains: Zizhang’s question differs from Yan Yuan’s direct question, “What is benevolence?” Confucius therefore answered with Zizhang’s shortcomings in mind. The opposite of respectfulness is arrogance; of generosity, harshness; of trustworthiness, betrayal; of diligence, indolence; and of kindness, cruel treatment of others. Zizhang liked to show off and set his sights too high. He might mistake an impressive appearance for respectfulness, never refusing anyone for generosity, ingratiating himself through expressions and gestures for trustworthiness, acting hurriedly and in haste for diligence, or neglecting instructions for kindness. If so, the practical effects of the five virtues would become blurred. This teaching aims to shape him deeply, like a remedy tailored to the ailment. Its meaning is the same as the passages elsewhere that discuss the five virtues and four failings.

Zengzi said, “Zizhang has an imposing manner, but it is difficult to practice benevolence alongside him.” Ziyou said, “My friend Zizhang can indeed do what others find difficult, but he has not yet attained benevolence.”

The Hongdao lu commentary explains: The teaching of Confucius and his school took the pursuit of benevolence as its goal, and benevolence was the ultimate destination of the disciples’ learning. Zengzi often examined himself, while Ziyou studied the principles and treated others with care. Compared with them, Zizhang was still far from benevolence. In later times, people tended either to disparage their friends or to envy and reject them. Who would be willing to point out a friend’s faults and help correct them? This passage shows that friends helping each other cultivate benevolence is no empty talk: they neither exaggerate one another’s merits nor conceal their faults, but point out what is difficult to change and seek ways to remedy it.

What he lost was something of great moral importance and profound human closeness, which is why he ultimately met such an end.

The Book of Han records that, as a young man, Dong Zhongshu resolved to study diligently. He hung a curtain and devoted himself to teaching, reading, and reciting. His disciples passed on their studies in order of when they had entered his school. Some followed him for many years without ever seeing his face. For three years, he did not so much as look into his garden: that was the depth of his concentration. In all his movements and conduct, he never acted against ritual and law, and scholars throughout the land honored him as their teacher.

During the reign of Emperor Jing of Han, Dong Zhongshu served as a court academician and later became chancellor of Jiangdu, assisting Prince Yi. The prince was Emperor Jing’s elder brother, known for his arrogance and love of daring. Dong Zhongshu admonished him on moral grounds, and the prince came to respect him. Much later, the prince asked, “King Goujian of Yue and his ministers Xie Pu, Zhong, and Li plotted to attack Wu and destroy it. I consider the people of Yue to have had three men of benevolence. What do you think?”

Dong Zhongshu replied, “Long ago, the ruler of Lu asked Liuxia Hui, ‘I want to attack Qi. What do you think?’ Liuxia Hui said it was wrong. When he returned home, he looked troubled and said, ‘I have heard that when someone plans to attack another state, he does not go and consult a benevolent person. How could such a question have been put to me?’ He felt ashamed merely to have been asked. How much more shameful, then, to pretend to be benevolent while actually plotting to attack Wu! From this, we can see that Goujian and his companions were not benevolent men at all. The benevolent speak only of what is right and do not pursue personal gain; they clarify the right path and do not calculate their merits. That is why, among Confucius’s disciples, even boys only five feet tall were ashamed to praise the Five Hegemons: the Five Hegemons put deceit and force first, and benevolence and righteousness last.”

The Record of Broadening the Way comments: “Confucians of earlier generations considered Dong Zhongshu a man of great Confucian bearing. I privately think he had entered the hall, but had not yet reached the inner chamber. Why do I say this? Fan Chi was a well-known disciple of Confucius, yet he still seemed rather shallow, close to valuing only material gain. Confucius taught him to attend to the difficult tasks first and speak of rewards afterward, but he never fully understood. Dong Zhongshu, by contrast, offered counsel to enlightened rulers and assisted two sovereigns. Faced with an arrogant ruler, he had his difficulties, yet he did not seek personal gain or show resentment. Compare him with Jia Yi, and one can see in Jia Yi a sense of grievance and calculation. This shows that ‘to uphold what is right without seeking personal gain, and to clarify the right path without counting one’s merits’ was no empty phrase for Dong Zhongshu, but a principle he put into practice. Guan Zhong and Yan Ying, too, would have felt ashamed to stand alongside him.”

Dong Zhongshu’s devotion to teaching and study behind the curtain may well have embodied what Confucius meant by, “To learn and, from time to time, practice what one has learned—is this not a pleasure?” And the scholars who honored him as their teacher could likewise be said to have found it “a joy.” In that light, was he not truly a gentleman who “is not troubled when others do not understand him, and does not resent them”? Even seated beside the Apricot Altar, among the disciples of Confucius, he would have been their equal.

The Book of the Later Han records that when Huang Xian was fourteen, Xun Shu met him at an inn and was immediately struck with respect. He bowed to Huang Xian and spoke with him, and even after a long conversation, he could hardly bear to leave. Xun Shu said to Huang Xian, “You are my teacher and my model…”

Later, (Guo Linzong) went to Yuan Hong’s home and asked, “Do you know of a Yan Hui in our region?” (Yan Hui was a disciple of Confucius; here his name praises someone of lofty virtue.)

Yuan Hong replied, “Do you mean my uncle, Shudu?” Dai Liang, from the same commandery, was exceptionally gifted and proud by nature. Yet whenever he met Huang Xian, whose courtesy name was Shudu, he would compose his expression. After leaving, he would feel as though something were missing. His mother once asked, “Have you come back again from that boy who treats oxen?” Dai Liang answered, “It is not that I think Shudu is beneath me; I simply know that I fall short of him. When you try to see what he is like, he seems right before you, then suddenly behind you. He is impossible to grasp, truly beyond measure.”

Chen Fan and Zhou Ju often said, “If we go a month or two without seeing Huang, vulgar and narrow thoughts begin to grow in our hearts.” When Guo Linzong was young and traveling in Runan, he first visited Yuan Hong, but left without staying the night. He then went to visit Huang Xian and did not return for several days. When someone asked Guo Linzong why, he said, “Yuan Fenggao’s capacity is like a broad expanse of water: clear, yet easy to draw from. Shudu’s mind is like waves stretching across a thousand qing: you cannot make it clear by clarifying it, nor muddy it by stirring it. He is truly beyond measure.”

Huang Xian was first recommended as a Filial and Incorrupt official, and later summoned to serve in the central government. His friends urged him to take office, and he did not refuse. He went briefly to the capital, then returned, and ultimately never held office. People throughout the realm called him the “Summoned Recluse,” a hermit who had received an imperial summons but declined to serve.

The compiler of Hongdao lu comments: Fan Ye, author of the Book of the Later Han, wrote that Huang Xian’s words and bearing have not been handed down, yet scholar gentlemen who met him were all impressed by the depth of his character and, through him, turned away from vulgar and narrow thoughts. Was he perhaps known for complete virtue and an unblemished nature, despite having no particular deeds to recount? My great-grandfather, Marquis Mu, believed that Huang Xian accepted nature calmly and was so deep as to approach the Dao. No one could fathom his depths or describe his character as either clear or murky. Among the disciples of Confucius, he would probably have been their equal. In reading biographies of Eastern Han scholars, I have given Huang Xian special regard above all others.

The “Hongdao” chapter ends.

Hongdao lu, Volume Three

Benevolence

Benevolence among Friends

Zhou Dunyi, known as Master Lianxi, lived in the Song dynasty. He understood the Dao at an early age and was a man of lofty character. His spirit was free and open, clear as a fresh breeze after rain and a bright moon in a clear sky. He loved mountains and forests and was not bound by worldly conventions. He did not seek fame, but took joy in pursuing his ideals; he did not strive for good fortune, but placed the welfare of the people first. He gave little thought to his own comfort, yet was generous to his wife and children. He did not pander to worldly tastes, but valued friendship with the worthy of ancient times.

He once said, “A scholar aspires to be worthy, the worthy aspire to be a sage, and the sage aspires to follow Heaven’s Way. Yi Yin and Yan Yuan were both great worthies: if you are to set your ambition, set it on Yi Yin; if you are to study, study the principles Yan Yuan learned; if you are to surpass…”

If one can attain the state of a sage, one becomes a sage. Even if one cannot, at least one will not lose a good name. Grass grew before Zhou Maoshu’s window, and he would not let anyone pull it up. When someone asked him why, he replied, “This grass shares my feelings.” The life force within him flourished without cease.

In works such as Explanation of the Diagram of the Supreme Ultimate and The Penetrating Book, Zhou Dunyi deeply grasped the subtle principles of the Classic of Changes. He clarified the meaning of the Dao lineage that had been lost for a thousand years, and carried it forward from Yao, Shun, Yu, Tang, Kings Wen and Wu, the Duke of Zhou, and Confucius. Cheng Xiang of Henan sent his two sons, Cheng Hao and Cheng Yi, to study with him. Zhou Dunyi often had them investigate what Confucius and Yan Hui had found joyful.

The learning of the Two Cheng brothers had its source here. Cheng Hao said, “Only after I met Zhou Maoshu did I understand the delight he took in singing of the breeze and admiring the moon, then returning home contented. His feelings were just like those Zeng Dian described.” Zeng Dian, a disciple of Confucius, had once described bathing with companions in late spring, enjoying the breeze, singing, and returning home. Hou Shisheng, whose courtesy name was Shisheng, was studying under Cheng Yi in Yichuan but had not yet grasped the teaching. Later, he went to visit Zhou Dunyi and spent the night talking with him on the same couch. He returned only after three days. Cheng Yi exclaimed in surprise, “You must have come from Zhou Maoshu. He is so skilled at bringing people to understanding that he has accomplished even this.”

The Record of the Vast Dao comments: What Confucius and Yan Hui found joyful was the state of the Dragon’s Virtue—the firm, hidden virtue of the dragon—held at the center. The great person shares the virtue of Heaven and Earth, and with an easy, open heart flows and changes together with the myriad things. How could such a state be readily measured? What Zhou Maoshu aspired to was the Dragon’s Virtue, hidden deep and unseen. The noble person makes the cultivation of virtue a personal practice; their presence is gentle as the spring breeze and clear as the bright moon. How could such a quality be produced through deliberate embellishment?

Perhaps Heaven endowed him with this nature so that he might open and carry forward the learning of the Dao for later generations. What he gained through observing and responding to the myriad things was more than singing of the breeze and admiring the moon. His later walks among flowers and along the willows expressed the same principle. This is precisely the subtlety that the sages affirmed in the saying, “Those of the same sound respond to one another; those of the same Qi seek one another.” It should not be dismissed as mere words on a page.

When Master Mingdao, Cheng Hao, was fifteen or sixteen, he had already grown weary of the learning pursued for the civil service examinations and resolved with deep conviction to seek the Great Dao. He returned to the Six Classics to investigate, and gradually came to understand. He believed that after Mencius died, the learning of the sages had been lost. He therefore made the revival of Confucian learning his own responsibility: as an official, he would awaken people; in retirement, he would illuminate the Classics.

Sadly, he died young. His teachings were plain and easy to understand, and both the worthy and ordinary people could benefit from them, like a group of people drinking beside a river, each taking as much as they needed.

Cheng Hao said, “Principle cannot be made clear because heterodox teachings have done it harm. The harm in the past was shallow and easy to recognize; the harm today is hidden and difficult to discern. In the past, they misled people by taking advantage of their ignorance and confusion. Now they influence people by appealing to their belief that they are already wise. They claim they can exhaust the mysteries and see through transformations, yet…”

In creating all things and accomplishing great undertakings, one’s words may seem to encompass everything. In truth, however, they depart from the ordinary principles of human relations, probing what is obscure and profound until they reach a point beyond which no one can go. When people everywhere study the Way of Yao and Shun, they either remain shallow and stubborn or inevitably fall into this state. This is perhaps because the true Way is unclear: absurd and bizarre claims then rise up in competition, filling the ears and eyes of ordinary people and leaving the world mired in corruption. Even those of great talent and clear insight are constrained by what they see and hear, living in a haze without realizing it. Such claims are like thorns and weeds growing across the true Way, obscuring the gate of the sages. Only by clearing them away can one enter the true Way.

The Hongdao lu records that among Confucius’s disciples, Yan Hui stood foremost in the four areas of virtue, speech, governance, and letters, and people of his time called him a devoted learner. Confucius said that he “did not let anger spill over onto others, and did not make the same mistake twice.” He also said, “Do not look at what is contrary to ritual, do not listen to what is contrary to ritual, do not speak what is contrary to ritual, and do not do what is contrary to ritual.” He further said that Yan Hui was “as though he had nothing when he had something, as though he were empty when he was full,” and that he did not take offense when others slighted him. Did Cheng Bochun—Cheng Hao, the Northern Song Confucian philosopher—not embody all these qualities as well?

See how he sat upright all day, like a figure molded from clay; yet in his dealings with others, he was always warm and harmonious. He truly never let anger spill over onto others and never repeated the same mistake. His self-cultivation showed in his words and actions. His grave, composed expression inspired respect and left no room for carelessness. When matters arose, he handled them calmly and without haste; his sincerity was so evident that no one dared respond lightly. When did he ever speak or act recklessly? He would rather study the sages without yet attaining their level than make a name for himself through a single strength. He would rather regard a failure in even one matter as his own fault than claim a momentary advantage as his achievement. Is this not precisely what it means to seem to have nothing while being inwardly full? Among the many Confucian scholars, he alone grasped the pure essence of this teaching and was no different from the sages.

When Master Yichuan, Cheng Yi, was eighteen, he once submitted a memorial to the court, urging the emperor to set aside worldly opinion and make the kingly way the guiding principle of governance. While studying at the Imperial Academy, he visited Master Anding—Hu Yuan, the Northern Song educator—and asked what kind of learning Yan Hui delighted in. He then wrote an essay on the subject, which said:

“Learning is for the sake of attaining the state of a sage. How should one learn? Heaven and Earth gather vital energy and bring forth human beings from the finest elements of the Five Phases. Human nature is originally pure and tranquil; before it becomes manifest, the five virtues of benevolence, righteousness, propriety, wisdom, and trustworthiness are already complete within it. Once the body has taken shape, external things stir it, and the mind responds. When the mind is stirred, the seven emotions appear: joy, anger, sorrow, fear, love, dislike, and desire. When these emotions grow intense and are indulged without restraint, human nature is harmed. Therefore, those who understand this restrain their emotions…”

Bring oneself into accord with what is balanced and upright: rectify the heart and nurture one’s nature. The foolish do not know how to restrain themselves. They give free rein to their desires and ultimately meet ruin. Those who study, however, must first understand their hearts and recognize their nature, then strive to put their learning into practice, pursuing benevolence, righteousness, loyalty, and trustworthiness, and keeping these virtues ever present in their hearts. Whether in haste and confusion or in hardship and disappointment, if they persist over time without abandoning them, they will be able to hold fast to these virtues in peace. When their conduct and bearing accord with proper ritual, deviant thoughts will have no way to arise.

Mr. Anding, the Northern Song scholar Hu Yuan, held an academic post at court. Lü Xizhe became his student, diligently put his teachings into practice, and took pleasure in the study of antiquity. He was content with poverty and steadfast in his principles. He read widely, and made sincerity the foundation of his scholarship. In action and stillness, in speech and silence, he took the sages as his models. He would not stop until he had attained the realm of the sages. In time, he grasped the learning of Confucius and Mencius that had been lost, and became a leader among Confucian scholars. He once said that if a scholar’s achievements and benevolence never benefited others, and he merely let the years pass in ease and inaction, he was a parasite upon Heaven and Earth. Only by organizing and compiling the texts left behind by the sages might he still make some contribution. He therefore wrote the Commentary on the Changes and the Commentary on the Spring and Autumn Annals, passing them down to later generations.

The editor of the Hongdao lu comments: “What Master Lianxi, Zhou Dunyi, sought to understand was what brought joy to Confucius and Yan Hui; what Master Anding asked about was the kind of learning that Yan Hui loved. This shows that what teachers use to instruct their students, and what students pursue in learning, rests on the principles of Dao, virtue, and human nature and life, and takes the great sages and worthies as its destination. The transmission of the Learning of the Dao in the Song dynasty surpassed that of earlier ages. The flourishing of social customs and the refinement of popular ways were closely connected to it.”

Master Hengqu, Zhang Zai, was a revered teacher among scholars in the Guanzhong region. His learning was firmly grounded; he loved the study of antiquity and worked hard to put it into practice. In his Western Inscription, he wrote:

“Qian is called Father; Kun is called Mother. I, in my smallness, dwell amid the vastness of the cosmos, where Heaven, Earth, and all things form one body. The Qi that fills the space between Heaven and Earth is my body; the Dao that governs the workings of Heaven and Earth is my nature. All the people beneath Heaven are my siblings, and all things are my companions.

The Son of Heaven is the eldest son of Father and Mother; ministers are his household’s assistants. To honor the old is to show reverence for our elders; to cherish the orphaned and the weak is to care for the young. The sage is one whose De accords with that of Heaven and Earth; the worthy are the finest among them. All those beneath Heaven who are destitute, frail, disabled, orphaned, or without support are my brothers and sisters. When they suffer and are helpless, I should protect them. This is the duty of assistance that a child owes to their parents. To fulfill it is to live at ease and without worry: this is pure filial piety.

To go against this Way is to violate virtue; to harm benevolence is to injure one’s own virtue; to help another do evil is to be unfit for one’s calling. Only by putting human nature into practice and aligning oneself with the Dao of Heaven and Earth can one truly resemble Heaven and Earth. Only by understanding the principles of change in all things can one be said to have inherited the work of one’s forebears well.”

By probing the mysteries of Heaven, Earth, and all things, one can carry on the aspirations of the ancients; even alone in a dark room, one can remain free of self-reproach. Harboring not the slightest improper thought, one cultivates one’s nature and remains diligent without pause. Bozi did not covet fine wine and valued care for his elders; Bing Fengren extended his reverence and affection for his elders to others, benefiting generations to come.

To bring joy to Shun without imposing hardship on him was his achievement. Shengsheng, knowing he would be boiled alive, did not flee: this was his reverence. To receive one’s body from one’s parents and return it intact was Zeng Shen’s courage. Boqi was the one who obeyed his father’s command and accepted his fate without distress.

Wealth, honor, and good fortune may only add to my burdens. Poverty, low station, sorrow, and hardship may be Heaven’s way of tempering me and preparing me for great things. In life, I act in accordance with Heaven’s principles; in death, too, I can be at peace and without regret.

Cheng Yi, the Master of Yichuan, once said that the Western Inscription explains how principle is one in its entirety, while all things each have their proper place. It brings to light what the sages of earlier generations had not yet fully explained. Its purpose is the same as Mencius’s teachings on the goodness of human nature and the cultivation of the vast, flowing Qi. Since Mencius, only Zhang Zai has attained this level.

The Record of the Broadening of the Dao says that the two Cheng brothers, Cheng Hao and Cheng Yi, were naturally clear-minded and fully endowed. So when they first met Master Lianxi, Zhou Dunyi, and Master Anding, Hu Yuan, and heard them speak of Confucius and Yan Hui’s joy, they seemed to see it with their own eyes and point it out with their own hands, without needing to ponder and investigate at length. Their lucid wisdom illuminated the principle; everything came together naturally, without leaving a trace.

Zhang Zai, styled Hengqu, by and large struggled hard and pursued his inquiries with all his might, and so lacked an easeful, unhurried quality. His intentions and wording had yet to become so fully integrated as to leave no trace. For this reason, readers of his writings might find it difficult to grasp them with ease; only after later explanations did their doubts fall away. This is the difference between the two Cheng brothers and Zhang Zai.

Yang Shi, styled Guishan, repeatedly examined and debated the Western Inscription, and later Zhu Xi explained it in detail and wrote treatises about it. As a result, the text has remained widely read to this day. This shows that their friendships were not merely formed through literary exchange; they also relied on one another to deepen their virtue of benevolence.

When Master Kangjie, Shao Yong, was young, he was rather proud of his talents and full of ambition, hoping to achieve distinction. He pushed himself relentlessly: in cold weather he lit no fire, in hot weather he used no fan, and at night he did not lie down to rest. He continued this way for several years. Li Zhicao, a native of Beihai, heard of his love of learning and asked him, “Have you heard of the learning that investigates the patterns of things and the principles of nature and life?”

Shao Yong then became Li Zhicao’s student and studied the Yellow River Diagram and the Luo River Writing, as well as the diagrams of the Eight Trigrams and sixty-four hexagrams attributed to Fuxi, the legendary sage-king of antiquity. Li Zhicao’s teachings had a long history behind them. Shao Yong probed their hidden depths, and through subtle insight brought his understanding into accord with their principles. He thoroughly grasped their deeper meaning, acquired broad learning, and developed many insights of his own.

As his learning matured and his virtue deepened, he devoted himself to contemplating lofty and far-reaching principles and observing the workings of Heaven and Earth and the waxing and waning of Yin-Yang. He looked as far back as the changes in human affairs across past and present, and as close at hand as the distinct natures of birds, beasts, plants, and trees. Through deep inquiry and precise understanding, he ultimately expanded and developed Fuxi’s teachings.

Shao Yong, whose courtesy name was Yaofu and literary name Kangjie, wrote more than a hundred thousand words. When worthy men such as Fu Bi, Sima Guang, and Lü Gongzhu retired to Luoyang, they held him in great respect and even bought him a garden estate. He named his home the “Nest of Ease and Contentment,” and so came to be known as the “Master of Ease and Contentment.” Sima Guang revered Shao Yong as he would an elder brother. Both men were deeply virtuous and especially admired by the people of their community, who often reminded one another, “Do nothing wrong, lest Sima Duanming and Shao Yaofu find out.”

Shao Yong had a pure and upright disposition; even at a distance, one could see his virtue. Yet he did not make a point of displaying himself, nor did he set himself apart or keep others at arm’s length. He often gathered with people to talk and laugh, and even after spending the whole day with them, he never seemed affected. In conversation, he liked to discuss principles and other people’s strengths, but did not publicize their faults. When someone came to ask his advice on learning, he answered, but never forced anyone to listen. He treated people sincerely, without regard to status or age. Thus, the virtuous admired his character, while even those lacking virtue were changed by his influence. At that time, Luoyang was especially rich in talented people, and its atmosphere of honesty and simplicity was renowned throughout the realm.

The editor of the Hongdao lu says: “When I consider the achievements of the ancients in virtue and breadth of character, some benefited from a naturally generous disposition, some from the accumulation of wide-ranging learning, and some from being shaped by good customs. Master Shao possessed all three, and so stood out above others. In a thousand years, there has been only one such person.”

Master Guishan, Yang Shi, was naturally open-hearted and cheerful, and his learning was profound. Gifted from childhood, he had already developed virtue and breadth of character in his youth. His inner cultivation was pure and deep, while his outward manner was simple and composed. In his private life he was warm and amiable; his expression and smile made people feel drawn to him. When matters arose, he judged and acted with calm composure, showing no agitation. Those who spent time with him—even all day—often found him quiet and sparing of words, yet felt at ease in his presence. His gentleness left no room for contempt or disdain to surface.

He was generous and tolerant, never letting others see the limits of his forbearance. Nor did he deliberately act against common ways to appear aloof and superior. He steadily deepened and broadened his learning and cultivation, and so did not dare to indulge himself carelessly. Even at eighty, his resolve had not weakened, and his energy nearly surpassed that of the young. When judging urgent and difficult matters or dealing with worldly affairs, his decisions were clear and precise, as though illuminated by a lamp, calculated, and divined.

Master Yuzhang, Luo Congyan, was naturally intelligent, rigorous and thorough in self-cultivation, and pure in conduct. He enriched himself with a broad and generous heart, and treated others with kindness and forgiveness. His learning was profound and subtle, reaching the highest levels in many areas; among Confucian scholars of the Han and Tang dynasties, hardly anyone came close to him. He needed few words to calm others with his gentleness; simply being beside someone could transform them, like a spring breeze stirring life and nourishing all things. However, the source text ends here before explaining how this influence worked; the remainder is missing.

This was because, having heard that Master Guishan (Yang Shi) had received the learning of the Cheng brothers (Cheng Hao and Cheng Yi), he admired them deeply and went on foot to seek instruction. He said, “If I cannot attain that level, I will have all but wasted my life.” From then on, he devoted himself to reflection and practice, taking the responsibility upon himself. He once sat in meditation on Mount Luofu for three years, investigating the principles of Heaven, Earth, and the myriad things. In the end, his inner life became full, and he gained insight for himself.

He once said, “The laws handed down by our ancestors must not be discarded, and we must not presume upon the kindness of those who came before us.” He also said, “When a scholar serves at court, uprightness and loyalty should be the foundation. With uprightness, the court will make no errors; with loyalty, the people of the realm will have no grievances. To speak only of uprightness and not of loyalty is gradually to become harsh; to speak only of loyalty and not of uprightness is to fall into timidity.” His arguments were measured and principled, and most of them expressed ideas of this kind.

Master Li Tong of Yanping had an exceptionally resolute nature and a bold, expansive bearing. Yet his inner cultivation was deep and complete, and he never flaunted his sharpness. His refined character showed in his face: his expression was gentle, his words firm and proper, his spirit settled, and his breathing calm. Whether speaking or silent, active or still, he was dignified and composed. He seemed natural and easygoing, yet inwardly appeared to follow his own clear standards.

In his everyday dealings, he treated others with humility and respect, and was slow to show approval or disapproval. But when responding to affairs or handling unexpected changes, once he had judged according to principle, he would take a clear stand and brook no encroachment.

After his lectures and readings, he often sat upright for the entire day, observing the mind before joy, anger, sorrow, and pleasure had arisen, and seeking what is called “the Mean”—a state of calm and balance before emotions emerge. He believed that all the principles of the world stem from this. Once the root was grasped, however different the kinds and measures of things, however many their twists and changes, they could all be brought together and understood. Their patterns could be gradually integrated and explained, each with its own distinct logic, like the courses of rivers, which must not be confused.

From the vast height and depth of Heaven and Earth, to the growth and transformation of the myriad things, to the fine points of classical interpretation and the small details of daily life, everything could be assessed by this root, and nothing lay beyond proper understanding. Through this, he held more firmly to his original mind, refined his cultivation, and made his understanding ever clearer and more focused. Whatever he encountered, he could see through it and respond with flexibility, so that what arose within him was always fitting and measured. Scholars of the time greatly admired him and said, “Wenzhong (Li Tong’s courtesy name) is like an autumn moon in an ice-clear vessel: pure and flawless, beyond the reach of people like us.”

The compiler says: These three masters were the orthodox inheritors of the learning of Cheng and Zhu, and models for scholars of later generations. Their words and bearing were exceptional and worthy of emulation, not only in their own time. People a hundred generations hence, if they share the same innate moral awareness, will share the same utmost virtue; they should therefore always honor and remember these masters.

Keep the way of the sages firmly in your heart, and never forget it.

Mr. Huian, Zhu Xi, resolved from childhood to study the way of the sages. His father, Mr. Weizhai, Zhu Song, carried on the scholarly tradition of the Central Plains, elucidated the teachings left by the sages, and stressed the need to work at “extending knowledge” (seeking true understanding) and “making the intention sincere” (making one’s thoughts genuine). Zhu Xi was familiar with these teachings from a young age and loved them wholeheartedly.

Mr. Yanping, Li Tong, was a fellow student and close friend of Weizhai. Despite the long journey, Zhu Xi made a special trip to study with him. Li Tong praised Zhu Xi: “His eagerness to do good and respect for the Way are rare in anyone.” He also said, “His intelligence is exceptional, and his commitment to putting what he learns into practice is admirable.”

In his studies, Zhu Xi pursued a thorough investigation of principle to gain true understanding, then examined himself so that he could put what he knew into practice. “Maintaining reverence” (sustaining a respectful, attentive, and undivided state of mind) ran through the whole process; it was essential from beginning to end. He held that if the pursuit of knowledge was not rooted in reverence, the mind would grow muddled and distracted, unable to discern where the principles pointed. And if personal practice was not rooted in reverence, one would become lax and self-indulgent, unable to put those principles into effect. The first method for maintaining reverence, then, is to give one’s undivided attention. Sit upright and composed throughout the day, studying the rules of the classics. From one’s own mind and body to all the things and affairs of the world, there is nothing that does not contain principle.

In a dignified, quiet, and focused state, hold fast to the original mind; through study, inquiry, reflection, and discernment, investigate principle. Whenever you put what you know into practice, return to yourself and examine your conduct. Even when unseen and unheard, be all the more vigilant, respectful, and cautious; in private and in the most subtle moments, reflect and examine yourself with particular care. Before thoughts arise, awareness within the mind is already clear; when events come before you, you will respond with proper measure. In this way, selfish desires have no room to grow, and the right path of heavenly principle is preserved. Here lies the orthodox transmission of the Way.

The Hongdao Lu comments: This passage describes the origins and development of the learning of Master Wen, Zhu Xi. As his father, Weizhai laid deep foundations for his achievements; and the teachers Jixi, Baishui, Pingshan, and Yanping also helped him greatly. As for establishing a foundation through maintaining reverence, gaining true understanding through investigating principle, and putting what one knows into practice by examining oneself, these were principles that Zhu Xi himself grasped and lived by. The path he followed in seeking the Way, from beginning to end, never went beyond these three. In the more than one thousand years since the Qin and Han dynasties, people of this caliber have been exceedingly rare.

Zhu Xi internalized the principles he had understood and made them part of his virtue: with a single heart, he investigated the source of creation, discerned the mysteries of human nature and emotions, and penetrated the profound meaning of the sages’ teachings. He embodied the Way of Heaven and Earth, understood the principles governing the myriad things, and accepted the responsibility of upholding the ethical order. In nurturing his original mind, he remained empty…

He was sincere by nature, decisive and firm in his actions, and orderly in the way he handled affairs and dealt with people. Through change and even in danger, he held fast to his principles and never wavered in his purpose. Deeply cultivated and composed, he was accomplished and rigorous, yet mild and generous toward others. He did not need to exert himself deliberately to sustain his inner cultivation; it remained steady of its own accord. Nor did he need to wait for formal instruction before his learning became profound. Still, he felt that moral principles were without end while human life was limited, and he was often conscious of how much remained to be learned.

The Hongdao lu says: This was Zhu Wengong’s (Zhu Xi’s) achievement in moral cultivation. He once praised himself, saying, “I dwell calmly within ritual and law, and immerse myself deeply in the Way of benevolence and righteousness. Though I do not display my virtue outwardly, it grows clearer with each passing day.” Perhaps he came close to this ideal. Mencius said that when people truly grasp the Way, they can dwell in it with ease; when they dwell in it with ease, their accumulation becomes deep, and in drawing on the principles of the things around them, they find their source everywhere. Master Zhu’s attainment was truly profound, nearly reaching the highest level.

The teachings of the sages are scattered throughout the classics. If the sages’ central purpose is not understood, the transmission of the Way—the inheritance of their teachings—will gradually fall into obscurity. Zhu Xi therefore devoted himself wholeheartedly to the study of the sages’ classics and instructions. He corrected omissions in the Great Learning and the Doctrine of the Mean, and clarified the order of their chapters so that their guiding principles and details once again stood out clearly. He probed the original intent behind the questions and answers in the Analects and the Mencius, so that readers who studied them closely could feel as though they were seeing the sages teach in person. In the Classic of Changes and the Classic of Poetry, he sought out their original meanings and corrected later misreadings, gaining a deep understanding of what people in antiquity had intended thousands of years earlier. He questioned the difficult and obscure passages in the received text of the Classic of Documents, judging them less plain and accessible than the ancient text. As for the Spring and Autumn Annals, he held that the sage’s intent was upright and broad, and could not have been as strained and far-fetched as some explanations in the commentaries made it seem. On ritual, he criticized Wang Anshi for abolishing the Ceremonies and Rites, leaving only related accounts behind. On music, he lamented that later generations had lost the pitch-measuring rulers, leaving them without a basis for judging the heights and qualities of musical tones. As for the histories of successive dynasties, he examined and assessed events from the Western Zhou through the Five Dynasties. Taking the chronological histories as his framework and adopting the Spring and Autumn Annals’ method of recording events, he compiled an account whose outline was clear without being cluttered, and whose details unfolded in order without becoming confused.

The Hongdao lu says: Zhu Wengong made a great contribution to carrying on the Way of the former sages. Since the Han dynasty, Confucian scholars had often produced strained interpretations, fragmented arguments, and explanations that seemed right but were not. Few truly understood the precise meaning of the classics. The Commentary on the Classic of Changes, the prefaces to the Classic of Poetry, and related commentaries and annotations numbered in the hundreds and thousands. They were vast in scope, yet their main points were often difficult to discern. Which of them truly concerned the original intent of Heaven’s Mandate still required further clarification.

The depths of the human heart are the gateway to entering the realm of De (Virtue/Power). In this regard, nothing surpasses the commentaries that have come down to us today. In them, every word and each layer of meaning is explained clearly, and the prose flows smoothly. They are fit to guide generations of learners for thousands of ages, enduring as long as Heaven and Earth.

The writings of Zhou Dunyi, Cheng Hao, Cheng Yi, Zhang Zai, and Shao Yong carried forward the lineage of the Dao (the Way) taught by Confucius and Mencius. Yet not long after these thinkers had died, their profound teachings and essential principles were still not clear. Master Zhu Xi gathered their writings and explained them, and only then did these teachings spread widely.

The Taiji (Supreme Ultimate) Diagram and the Xiantian Diagram, which explain the generation of the cosmos and the order of Heaven and Earth, are subtle and expansive, with no limit to their content. Zhu Xi analyzed them layer by layer, laying out their details so that the foundations of Heaven and Earth and the profound meaning of the sages’ thought would not be lost. Zhang Shi, known as Lord Zhang of Nanxuan, and Lü Zuqian, known as Lord Lü of Donglai, lived in the same era as Zhu Xi. He shared their aims and accorded with them in principle, and took pleasure in their company. Even when their views differed slightly, they would always discuss and debate them together, striving to reach a common understanding.

Some people grew weary of the labor involved in commentaries and recitation, and held that written texts were unnecessary so long as one recognized the original heart and clearly saw one’s nature. Learners were drawn to this easy path, straying into narrow and shallow views and believing they had already grasped the Dao. Others advanced even baser arguments, promoting the teachings of the Han and Tang dynasties and forcing them into alignment with the institutions of the Three Dynasties—Xia, Shang, and Zhou—to serve their own pursuit of gain. Zhu Xi vigorously criticized these practices, teaching people to begin with the Great Learning, the Analects, the Mencius, and the Doctrine of the Mean, and then move on to the other classics.

Zhu Xi held that without first studying the Great Learning, one could not grasp the main framework, nor understand the subtleties of the Analects and the Mencius thoroughly. Without drawing on the Analects and the Mencius, one could not bring the ideas together and deeply comprehend the purpose of the Doctrine of the Mean. But without grasping that work’s central teaching, how could one establish fundamental principles, manage important affairs, and then read the books of the world and discuss its affairs? Perhaps Heaven was aiding Confucian learning by deliberately sending down a sage to bring the lineage of the Dao to greater prominence.

After Confucius, Zengzi and Zisi carried forward the subtle teachings; with Mencius, they were finally brought fully to light. After Mencius, Zhou Dunyi, the Cheng brothers, and Zhang Zai continued the lineage of the Dao after it had been broken; with Master Zhu Xi, those teachings were once again made clear.

The Hongdao lu comments: “This passage shows that Zhu Xi made a great contribution to enlightening learners in later generations. Confucius gathered the teachings of the sages and brought them together into a complete school of his own, and for this he was considered superior to Yao and Shun. Zhu Xi gathered the teachings of the Confucian scholars and brought them together into a complete school of his own. Could his achievement have been less than Mencius’s? For countless ages, learners have read Zhu Xi’s words closely and sought out their principles, benefiting from them throughout their lives and drawing on them without end, yet they often do not know that this achievement should be credited to Zhu Xi.”

He often immersed himself in studying how things work, pondering them again and again. Sometimes he stayed awake all night; sometimes he continued for months without a break, devoting himself diligently each day. How should such a person be judged? His benevolence was truly profound: whether dealing with the wise or foolish, young or old, high or low in rank, rich or poor, he treated everyone equally, with sincerity and care. Yet almost no one in the world could compare with him.

Mr. Zhang Shi of Nanxuan (a Southern Song scholar, known by the courtesy name Nanxuan) was born with exceptional gifts, intelligent and precocious. His father, the Duke Zhongxian, taught him the practical principles of loyalty, filial piety, benevolence, and righteousness. When Zhang Shi grew older, his father sent him to study under Hu Renzhong. On first meeting him, Hu recognized that he was destined for great things, and shared with him his own understanding of the Confucian school’s profound teaching on benevolence. Zhang returned home and reflected on it. Feeling that he had grasped something, he wrote to Hu to ask for guidance. Hu replied, “The Sage’s school has found an heir; my teachings have hope.” From then on, Zhang Shi applied himself with still greater resolve, taking the ancient sages as his model and writing Record of Aspiring to Be Yan Hui to spur himself on.

Though his learning had already grown deep, he did not dare become complacent. He made friends widely and strove to reach what was still beyond him. Through repeated reflection, discussion and analysis, and testing his ideas in practice, his earlier understanding gradually became more profound and expansive, until in the end it returned to simplicity and plainness. The principles of the world were all clear to him, and he truly saw that there were things he had no choice but to do. Thus he was decisive and courageous, forceful in action, and firm in his integrity. In matters of loyalty to the ruler, filial devotion to his parents, and wholehearted adherence to the Dao and righteousness—commitments he kept throughout his life—he never acted out of self-compulsion or to gain anything.

When teaching others, he always began by helping them distinguish righteousness from self-interest. Then he explained the principles of things, set their minds in order and taught them reverence, guiding them toward the highest understanding. In analyzing questions and explaining ideas, he was both thorough and earnest, and would not stop until he had made both sides clear. He often said, “In learning, nothing takes precedence over distinguishing righteousness from self-interest. Righteousness is what one’s original mind knows one ought to do, something one cannot refrain from doing; it is not done for the sake of some purpose. Once one acts for the sake of a purpose, it is all personal desire, not the principle of Heaven.” These words are truly profound. They may be said to clarify what earlier sages had not fully expressed, and accord with their teaching that human nature is originally good and that one must cultivate one’s disposition.

The Hongdao Lu comments: “Since the distinction between righteousness and self-interest ceased to be clear, the harm done to people’s minds has become immense. The calamity even went so far as foreign peoples invading, the people driven from their homes, cities reduced to ruins, ruler and ministers taken captive, and the state and its altars of soil and grain destroyed. This did not happen only during the Warring States period…”

In the end, they took seeking ease and peace as the best policy, believed that making peace was the wise course, and were willing to serve enemies, bend their principles and change their will, even accept the clothing and caps of foreign peoples. Such conduct was not merely the kind of service to a ruler that Guan Zhong and Shang Yang rendered.

At that time, among court and country, between ruler and minister, was everyone devoid of conscience and confused in mind? Yet Jingfu still struggled against them; the more he struggled, the more resolute he became, and the more courageous his actions grew. If he had not truly perceived that the Heavenly Principle is inherently so, and if his conduct had sprung from personal desire or hypocrisy, how could he have advanced so bravely and regardless of all consequences? His discernment between righteousness and profit was gained through personal practice and exhaustive inquiry, not by fabricating words to deceive the world.

In the age of Master Zhen Xishan (Zhen Dexiu), the prohibition on learning grew ever stricter. Yet he resolutely took the transmission of Confucian learning as his own responsibility, lectured and studied, and strove to practice it. He compiled the Record of Reading (Dushu Ji), holding that the learning of nature and destiny is the root of moral principle and righteousness, and therefore placed it first. Nature issues forth as feeling, and the mind governs both nature and feeling; these three form the guiding framework of the whole book.

The specific topics discussed in the book include: benevolence, righteousness, propriety, wisdom, and trustworthiness are the nature endowed by Heaven; the relations between father and son, ruler and minister, husband and wife, elder and younger, and friends are the Dao that follows nature. What people commonly follow is called Dao, and what an individual truly apprehends and possesses is called De (Virtue); in reality there is no distinction between them. Therefore, next it discusses centrality, oneness, the ultimate, and sincerity—all of these are Dao, only their names differ.

Where should scholars begin in seeking the Dao? Reverence is the root of learning, so it is placed at the beginning; next it discusses the way of the teacher, the methods of moral transformation, and the way of the sage. Distinguishing the gentleman from the petty person and the Confucian Dao from heterodox teachings belongs to the content of the Great Learning, so it is discussed afterward. The principles of Yin-Yang transformation and the generation of the myriad things have already been touched on briefly in the chapter on nature and destiny; what remains unfinished is placed at the end.

The Yanyi (Extended Meaning) points out that if a ruler does not understand the Great Learning, he cannot clarify the root of governing the realm; if a minister does not understand the Great Learning, he cannot fulfill the duties of ruler and minister. What the book sets forth is indeed a vital classic transmitted from generation to generation and embodying the minds of the sages and worthies, not the private doctrine of Confucius alone. Great scholars of recent times wrote chapter-and-verse commentaries and questions and answers on this book to elucidate its principles. I privately consider that to assist in expounding this book, one should take the learning of the sages and worthies as the root, clarify the way of emperors and kings in governing the realm, and rely on past deeds to respond to future affairs. I firmly believe that this book can serve as a rule and regulation for those who rule the realm. Therefore, beginning with “Clarifying the Dao”…

The ability to distinguish matters clearly, understand people’s talents, examine the foundations of governing the state, and take account of the people’s circumstances is the key to investigating things and extending knowledge—that is, to probing the principles of things and attaining genuine understanding.

To be mindful of what one should revere, and to abstain from ease and desire, is the key to making one’s intentions sincere and setting one’s heart right. To be careful in speech and conduct, and proper in one’s appearance and bearing, is the key to cultivating oneself. To give due weight to marriage, put the household in good order, secure the foundations of the state, and instruct one’s kin is the key to ordering the family. Grasp these four principles, and governing the state and bringing peace to all under Heaven are already encompassed within them.

The editor says: I have read the central teachings of two books and privately compared them with one another, compiling them into this Record of Broadening the Way. The book cites wise words and good deeds from the sages of antiquity through writers of our own time. In general, it follows the format of The Extended Meaning of the Great Learning, beginning quotations with “The Record says,” and offers commentary in light of what I myself have observed. I am not bound by established precedents or constrained by explanations of words and phrases; in my view, there is nothing wrong with this approach.

When the learning of the Way is widely made clear, every household reads and everyone studies. If we merely cling to established precedents, we might as well not compile a book at all. Moreover, principle has no limits, and the human heart is stirred by what it encounters; from this arise transformations without end. To cling to textual explanations is to limit one’s own progress. Confucius said, “People can broaden the Way; the Way does not broaden people.” How could later generations fail to think diligently and strive to measure themselves against the worthy people of the past? I shall seek instruction from those who have attained the Way and ask them to correct me. This brings privately to mind the repeated sighs of the True Master Wen, Zhu Xi.

Mr. Heshan, Wei Liaoweng, was exceptionally intelligent from childhood and was called a child prodigy. At the time, the court was wary of discussion of the learning of the Way. After he passed the metropolitan examination, Han Tuozhou and Shi Miyuan came to power in succession. He therefore firmly declined the court’s summons, built a house on White Crane Mountain, and taught students the learning he had heard from Fu Guang, Lian Bu, Li Fan, and others. From then on, people in Shu came to understand the learning of principle.

In his studies, Wei Liaoweng focused on understanding principles through concrete things and examining himself in pursuit of humaneness. He first investigated the practical details of skills and proprieties in the Elementary Learning, then extended his inquiry to the greater principles by which ritual is put into practice and all matters are brought into coherence. He began with subtle, barely perceptible aspects of daily life, then went on to seek the great principles manifest in Heaven, Earth, and the spirits. He held that the writings of the sages and worthies had survived to the present because generations of Confucian scholars had recited and transmitted them since the Han dynasty. Teachers and students each adhered to their own school and held it in high regard. Though they might not, in the end, all have grasped the essentials, those writings still preserve the institutions of the ancients and the words of worthy people of earlier times, and there is indeed much in them that cannot be discarded. After the learning of Lian and Luo—represented by Zhou Dunyi, Cheng Hao, and Cheng Yi—arose, Zhu Xi carried on and elucidated its teachings. Only then did scholars clearly understand that they should seek the foundations of morality, human nature, and life. Yet those who pursued this learning often did no more than recite and familiarize themselves with received explanations day after day…

People often treat knowledge of the classics and of practical affairs as unimportant. In recent times, moreover, a bad habit has taken hold: people like to act hastily. Some students fail to put what they have learned firmly into practice in their own character and mind; when they turn to other matters, their study is neither detailed nor wide-ranging. As a result, the commentaries and annotations that have been handed down merely repeat one another, passing along errors and contradictions that no one can distinguish from the truth. Meanwhile, the names of things, institutions, and ritual regulations that have luckily survived are left without anyone investigating their origins. If one wishes to accomplish something in the world, how can one examine the original intentions behind the institutions established by the sages, and use them as a standard for adapting, adding to, or subtracting from those institutions as times change?

The Master must have been deeply concerned about this. He therefore devoted special attention to the Yili, the Zhouguan, and the Da Dai Liji and Xiao Dai Liji—that is, the Yili, the Zhouli, and the Liji compiled by Da Dai and Xiao Dai. He also selected passages from the annotations and subcommentaries on the Nine Classics that illuminate the meaning of the classics, and arranged them by subject and principle in a work called Essentials of the Nine Classics. His aim was to show that principle and institutions cannot be separated, and to dispel the confusion brought upon people by conjecture and endless disputes. This is precisely Zhang’s view that people should be transformed through ritual education, and what Cheng meant by “extending from above to below”—that is, joining profound principles with everyday practice.

The Record says: When I read the discussions of Heshan, I could not help lamenting the state of scholars today; it is especially painful to speak of. They pursue a path of learning based on what is passed from mouth to ear, seeking only words and phrases, yet refuse to read commentaries and annotations. They look for a shortcut to official advancement, while seeming to know nothing at all about the names of things or the institutions governing them. If things continue this way, who knows how far their failings will go before they stop? In the past, there were still people who sincerely sought learning, but when they gathered for a time, they were criticized by the crowd. Today, such people are scarcely heard of, yet no one finds this strange. People simply grow more shallow, narrow-minded, and uncultivated by the day. This trend causes the human heart to sink and damages the Way of government; its effects are far from minor. Who will be roused to take heed and feel alarm at Wei’s concern? It was for this very reason that this book was compiled with diligence and without pause.

The Yuan dynasty scholar Xu Luzhai, Xu Heng, was by nature resolute and steadfast. Under Yao Shu, known as Xuezhai, he grasped the learning of the He and Luo traditions, centered on the Hetu, the Luoshu, and the Zhouyi. Wherever he went, he gathered many students; his virtue was outstanding and his reputation spread far. At a time when the north and south had not yet been unified, Emperor Shizu, Kublai Khan, came to hear of the Way of the sage rulers largely through Xu’s guidance. In this way, Confucian learning was preserved from being lost. The emperor spared no expense in high offices and generous ranks to recruit worthy men from across the realm. Xu, however, firmly declined a position in government and instead took charge of the Imperial Academy, where he led the work of education.

His teaching began with the Xiaoxue, then proceeded to the Four Books, and after that advanced to the Yi, the Shi, the Shu, and the Chunqiu. He always taught his students personally and repeatedly, making filial devotion, fraternal respect, loyalty, and trustworthiness the foundation in every respect. Everyone was transformed by his example: fathers used these principles to instruct their sons, and older brothers used them to encourage their younger brothers. And this was not merely a matter of teaching each student according to his own abilities…

He always guided students step by step according to their progress. Starting from what they already understood, he helped them grasp what they had not yet understood. He then directed them toward various good deeds, helping them put their learning into practice, while watching carefully for the first signs of deviation and taking timely steps to prevent it. Over time, the students changed without even realizing it. He cared for everyone who came to study with him as if they were his own children, helping them become self-reliant and useful members of society.

He also said that study and making a living must begin with securing the means to live. When people lack the necessities of life, their pursuit of learning is burdened. Those who scheme for advancement or, once in office, seek personal gain are probably driven by financial hardship as well. Educated gentlemen should make farming their primary occupation. Trade is considered a lesser pursuit in comparison with farming, the “fundamental” occupation, but it is not entirely out of the question. So long as one conducts business without violating what is right, using it for the time being to support oneself is acceptable. But treating teaching or government service as a way to make a living was probably not what the ancients intended.

The editors of the Hongdao Lu comment: Some have compared Heng, the person discussed here, to Yang Ziyun and Wang Anshi. This comparison seems inappropriate, since Heng lived in a different era and faced different circumstances from either of them.

Yang Ziyun (Yang Xiong) lived at a time when the realm had only one emperor. Although Wang Mang concealed his intentions, his designs to usurp the throne were already apparent. In such circumstances, it was understandable that people like Pang Meng and Qiao Xuan chose to withdraw from public life. During the reign of Emperor Shenzong of Song, too, there was only one ruler over the realm, and Wang Anshi’s self-serving motives could more or less be discerned. In those circumstances, it was reasonable to condemn him harshly from the standpoint of honoring the inner realm and resisting outsiders.

Heng, however, lived in a time when the realm was divided, and he had seen with his own eyes how treacherous men brought the country to ruin. As the ancients said, even a realm of foreign peoples with a worthy ruler is better than the central states of the Xia with no ruler. In such a time, how can we blame Heng for departing from the great principles of the Spring and Autumn Annals and following the example of the Qin dynasty’s harsh rule?

Consider what he did from the Jianyuan era onward. He received ten imperial summonses, yet in the end he refused to compromise his principles to obtain office. He firmly declined a post in the Secretariat and chose instead to serve at the Imperial Academy. He never used his position to promote claims to kingship or proposals to disrupt the Central Plains; he devoted himself wholly to urging people toward goodness. These actions reveal his intentions. A man like Heng was simply unlucky to have been born into a time of turmoil; he was not taking reckless chances or seeking fame and office by a stroke of luck.

Xue Wenqing, the honored Xue Xuan of our dynasty, studied and expounded from childhood the teachings of Zhou Dunyi, Cheng Hao, Cheng Yi, Zhang Zai, and Zhu Xi. He lamented, “This is the orthodox lineage of Learning of the Dao.” He then devoted himself to its study, even forgetting to sleep and eat. As an adult, he was upright and principled, neither following the crowd in how he treated himself and others nor bending to please them. He once said, “When reading to investigate principle, one must truly grasp it, then test it in one’s own body and mind and put it into practice. Otherwise, it is like buying a box for pearls, then returning the pearls.” He remained earnest in his efforts to restore his original nature…

When teaching, the most essential point for Cheng Yi and Zhu Xi was to explain the “nature” (human nature and one’s original nature) spoken of in the Six Classics and the Four Books. The single word “nature” already sums up what Confucian thinkers after Mencius sought to investigate: things often fail to reach fulfillment because human nature has not been clearly understood.

They transmitted understanding from mind to mind, grasping the thought of the Confucian scholars around Lianxi and Luoshui, and the learning of Confucius’s school around the Zhu and Si Rivers. Starting with the mind and the person, they extended their inquiry to all things, then drew it together and brought everything back to its root. They would often sit upright with their eyes closed, reflecting again and again. When insight came, they rejoiced, and their delight showed in their faces. This may well have been the state of taking pleasure in the pursuit of knowledge.

As for sensing the life-giving energy of all things in the wind, and singing of kites soaring and fish swimming in the water, they understood these things inwardly and fell naturally into accord with them; they could see them simply by looking up. This can indeed be compared with the joy Zeng Dian, a disciple of Confucius, described in going on a spring outing and singing freely.

When faced with choices about yielding or accepting, taking or giving, entering public service or withdrawing, holding office for a long time or leaving swiftly, they always acted with clarity, integrity, and purity. Since Lu Zhai (Xu Heng), I have seen no one who could match them. Even Liu Jingxiu (Liu Yin), with his bearing like a phoenix soaring a thousand fathoms above the ground, could hardly surpass them.

The Record says: Among this dynasty’s (the Ming dynasty’s) Confucian scholars who studied principle learning, after Wang Huan’gu, Zhao Kaogu, Song Lian, and Fang Xiaoru came Xue Xuan, Wu Yubi, Yang Shiqi, and Qiu Jun. By the Chenghua era, talent emerged in abundance: Luo Lun, Zhang Mao, Huang Zhongzhao, Zhuang Chang, and He Qin, as well as Hu Juren, Zou Shouyi, Chen Xianzhang, Chen Chen, Zhou Ying, and Zhang Yuanzhen. It was a period of unprecedented flourishing.

Yet none of them clearly explained the origins of their learning or where its transmission ultimately led. After their deaths, they also left no clear indication of whom they had taught or how their schools branched out. Perhaps Zhou Dunyi, Cheng Hao, Cheng Yi, Zhang Zai, Zhu Xi, and figures such as He Ji, Wang Bai, Jin Lüxiang, and Xu Heng lived at a time when the learning of the Way had already become widely known. People could distinguish for themselves between Zhu Xi’s and Lu Jiuyuan’s teachings, and develop the scholarship of You Zuo and Yang Shi. These thinkers achieved much through natural gifts akin to those of the sages who came before them; they had not all been taught by a teacher, but had silently apprehended the substance of the Way.

Consider Jingxuan (Xue Xuan) today. He devoted himself wholeheartedly to recovering human nature: beginning with the mind and the person, he extended his inquiry to all things, then gathered what he had learned and brought it back to its root. One may say that he grasped the foundation of the sages’ learning. I have therefore recorded him in particular, so that those with aspirations may use this path as their point of entry. In this way, the scholarly work of Cheng Yi and Zhu Xi becomes easier to understand, and the transmission from Confucius to Yan Hui is found on this path as well.

Hongdao lu, juan 4

Righteousness

The Righteousness Between Ruler and Minister

Yao said, “I tell you, Shun: the imperial position bestowed by Heaven has now fallen to you. You must sincerely hold fast to the mean and upright Way. If the people under Heaven are left to suffer hardship, your Mandate of Heaven and your blessings and emoluments will end forever.”

The Hongdao Lu explains that the character “Centrality” (zhong) was first put forward by Emperor Yao and marks the source of the Dao lineage—the transmission of the Way of governance through sages and worthies.

The moral bond between ruler and minister is more than a matter of rank, with each occupying a higher or lower position. Heaven’s clarity, Earth’s stability, the trustworthiness of spirits, and the brightness of the sun and moon all depend on this “Centrality.” Governing all under Heaven therefore requires a thorough understanding of the Way that connects Heaven, Earth, and humanity, so that people may correspond with Heaven and Earth and all things may find their proper place and flourish.

This is not a principle contrived through the cleverness of an individual. It can be discerned from the innate goodness of human nature: in the human heart there is already a principle that is impartial, neither excessive nor deficient. It is naturally ordained by Heaven and is the most subtle of standards. Only a sage of the highest order can truly grasp and uphold it. Just as Heaven moves above, the ordering of the heavenly mandate and its cycles cannot depart from this Way. Without it, how could Heaven and Earth, vast as they are, and the people, so numerous, be brought into relation and held together? How could the people be kept from falling into hardship, or the ruler’s heavenly mandate from being cut short? This is the guiding principle that gathers the essentials, carries on the heavenly mandate, and establishes the foundation of all under Heaven. It is the foremost duty revealed for rulers and ministers throughout the ages.

Shun admonished Yu: “The human heart is perilous and difficult to settle; the Dao-centered heart is subtle and hard to discern. Examine it carefully and hold to it with singleness of purpose, so that you may grasp its central and upright Way with sincerity.”

The Hongdao Lu explains that the more carefully this principle of “Centrality” is distinguished, the less confusion there is; the more deeply it is explored, the more inexhaustible it proves. The more closely one experiences it within oneself, the less effort it requires. And when measured against the myriad affairs of the world, it can still bring them all together through a simple principle, without complication.

Yao expressed the principle’s utmost meaning in a single sentence. Shun added three more, not to introduce a different principle, but because anyone who has not yet attained reverent discernment, refined virtue and thorough reflection, or profound understanding and manifest virtue, is bound to confuse heavenly principle with human desire. The difference between them may seem no more than a hair’s breadth, yet the smallest deviation can ultimately lead to immense error. Shun was concerned that the Dao lineage would be difficult to preserve, so he stressed in particular the importance of diligent effort. Later generations of enlightened rulers and worthy ministers should reflect carefully on this.

The Great Yu Plan (Dayu mo) says: “If a ruler understands how difficult it is to be a ruler, then ministers, too, will understand how difficult it is to be a minister.”

The Hongdao Lu explains that this is the opening sentence of the Great Yu Plan, where it first discusses the way to deliberate on governance. Shun and Yu had experienced these difficulties firsthand, so their words carry particular weight and invite reflection. From the time Shun was summoned to serve despite his humble standing, through the many examinations he underwent, his temporary administration of affairs, the return of power, and finally his travels to distant regions, what among his tasks was easy? Whether coordinating the affairs of the seasons, overseeing the officials, appointing the Nine Ministers, or putting down the Four Criminals, none of it was easy to accomplish. The hardships Yu endured were even greater. His work managing the land and controlling the floods, and the toil of his tireless efforts, are truly heartrending…

A father’s labor is fulfilled through a son who never slackens; the hardship of keeping the mourning rites for eight years lay also in having no spouse at his side. The difficulty of assisting a ruler and bearing the affairs of the four quarters exceeds even the burden of laboring for oneself. If we do not keep these hardships in mind, how can we avoid repeating past mistakes?

Thus, resisting the temptation of fine wine is a way of restraining desire; cherishing the fleeting hours is a way of restraining idleness; regulating one’s appetites for sights and sounds and keeping one’s conduct within proper bounds is a way of restraining oneself; governing according to the laws is a way of restraining arbitrary action. To rise ten times during the time it takes to eat a meal and attend to affairs is diligence; to grasp one’s hair three times while washing it and pause to deal with affairs is care. From laboring in anxious thought and exhausting one’s strength to becoming someone beyond reproach, which of these is not difficult?

Alas, only through arduous devotion can a state be brought to peace; without it, the state falls into disorder. Only through arduous devotion can circumstances be made secure; without it, they become perilous. Later, Confucius once said solemnly, “One saying can bring a state to prosperity, and one saying can bring a state to ruin.” How could this not call for careful reflection?

Gao Yao, a legendary worthy minister of antiquity, said, “Do not teach the ruler to crave comfort and indulge his desires. Be vigilant and diligent: in the space of a day or two, the affairs of government undergo countless changes. Do not leave any office vacant, for the duties entrusted by Heaven must be carried out by people.”

The Hongdao Lu records: Did Gao Yao mean that the more diligent one is, the more meticulous and cautious one must be? What people find hardest to overcome is their unwillingness to bear hardship. The key to carrying this resolve through to the end lies in attending to the fine details of countless affairs.

In a single day and night, Heaven and Earth complete a circuit of 365 and one-quarter degrees. The sun and moon turn, the stars move, Yin-Yang alternates, and the Five Phases gather and disperse: how many thousands of changes are involved? The ruler is the same. Within a day or two, matters ranging from daily routines and sweeping to chariots, horses, and armies; from close ministers and attendants to distant peoples beyond the borders—all bear on the quality of government at court, the people’s comfort or distress, the safety or danger of the state, and the rise or decline of all under Heaven. How many thousands of changes are involved? Yet in the end, they all hinge on the slightest movement of a single thought in the heart. When the thought turns toward good, all things can move toward good, and the myriad affairs and threads can be set in order. When the thought is not good, good results are hard to achieve, and many things will go wrong.

Therefore, use vigilance to guard the mind and diligence to uphold one’s duties, so that every point under one’s charge is free of even the slightest selfishness or error. Then, even amid affairs that are tangled, intertwined, and infinitely varied, one principle can guide their handling, and nothing need be overlooked. This is what is meant by “the duties entrusted by Heaven must be carried out by people”: bringing inner thought and outward affairs of state into accord as one.

Yi Ji, another legendary worthy minister of antiquity, said, “A minister is the ruler’s assistant; to assist is to serve as the ruler’s minister.”

The Hongdao Lu records: Where there is Heaven, there is Earth, which depends on Heaven for its existence; where there is a ruler, there are ministers…

A minister depends on the ruler just as Heaven and Earth depend on one another. Heaven has but a single breath of Qi, yet it brings forth and nourishes all things. Each thing that grows has something on which it relies. Trees stand high above, birds fly through the air, creatures lie hidden in the water, and upright beings live upon the earth. The land bears all things, while also causing water to flow everywhere. Vast without limit and deep enough to reach all things, these are the functions of Earth.

There is only one ruler, yet he can bring order to the court and set the states of the realm aright. By appointing worthy people and issuing policies, he keeps those above secure and the people at peace. His influence corresponds to the sun, moon, and stars above, extends to all living beings below, and reaches the distant frontiers in every direction; nothing is left out of place. These are the achievements of ministers. The moral bond between ruler and minister exists throughout Heaven and Earth; there is nowhere to escape it. When the court of Yu Shun deliberated on affairs of state, it first put forward the central idea, “Ministers are close companions,” and repeated it in explanation and praise. Those who hold the throne should reflect on this carefully and never forget it.

Emperor Shun said, “My ministers are my limbs and eyes and ears. If I wish to help the people, you must assist me. If I wish to extend my influence in every direction, you must carry it out for me. I wish to view the images of the ancients: the designs of the sun, moon, stars, mountains, dragons, and pheasants, along with the patterns of ritual vessels, water plants, flames, grains, axes, and embroidery. These are displayed in the five colors on the five-colored garments that make up ceremonial robes. You must make these institutions clear. I wish to hear the Six Pitch-Pipes, the five notes, and the eight kinds of sound, so that I may understand whether governance is going well, and to hear and accept the five kinds of counsel. You must listen attentively.”

The Record of Broadening the Way says: Once the idea that ministers are the ruler’s “limbs and eyes and ears” had been established, the indispensable role of the ruler as the “head and heart” became all the more apparent. This is required not only by reason but by practical necessity. When a person’s hands or feet are numb, this is called “insensibility”; when the eyes cannot see clearly, a person cannot move about properly. Can the human body do without any of its parts? Only when the body directs the arms and the arms direct the fingers, with the senses working outwardly and clear understanding and discernment within, can one stand between Heaven and Earth as a whole person. Without these, one cannot see things or take even a single step.

The same is true of the ruler. With ministers to assist him, the ruler can accomplish things; with ministers to support him, his commands can be carried out; and with ministers who serve as his eyes and ears, he can see clearly and hear distinctly, so that the functions of governance, like those of a complete body, are whole. Then governing the realm is as easy as turning one’s palm. But the essential point is that the ruler must first make his own Virtue clear. Does the Book of Songs not say: “If your Virtue is not clear, no one will stand at your side to assist you; if your Virtue is not clear, you will have no ministers beside you”? Ah, how could a ruler fail to cultivate his Virtue with care?

“If I have faults, you must correct me. Do not agree with me to my face and then say something else when you leave. You must respectfully assist me at my side.”

The Hongdao Lu says: When ministers comply in the ruler’s presence, must they always be acting under duress? If the saw and execution block lay before them and the cauldron for boiling them stood behind, compliance under such pressure might be understandable. Yet some people decide what to do after only a brief conversation, reading the ruler’s casual gestures and tailoring their words to please him. They care only about what the ruler has said, never contradicting him, without regard for whether it is reasonable or whether the course of action has advantages and disadvantages. Alas, things have come to this!

Is a ruler’s fondness for hearing agreeable words something to praise? It is understandable for ministers to adapt their views to circumstances and choose what is fitting to say. Yet some exploit private friendships to cultivate influence, stirring up trouble in court discussions. Worse still, they seize fragments of their own past remarks and use them as proof of their distorted arguments. Alas, things have come to this! This is perhaps because rulers have failed to respect the duty of their assisting ministers to speak frankly, while ministers have failed in their duty to support their colleagues. If ruler and ministers rely only on personal prejudices, listening selectively and appointing people arbitrarily, how can they forget that the court belongs to all, and the realm belongs to everyone? How can one person’s likes and dislikes determine right and wrong in all the affairs of the realm?

Yi, the worthy minister said to have assisted Shun, said: “Be vigilant! Even when there is no danger, remain on guard at all times; do not abandon the standards. Do not crave ease or indulge in pleasure. Appoint the worthy without wavering; remove the corrupt without hesitation. Do not allow doubtful schemes to be carried out. In this way, every worthy aspiration can flourish. Do not abandon the right way to win the people’s praise, nor defy the people merely to satisfy your own desires. Do not grow slack or neglect the affairs of government. In this way, the tribes from every quarter and distant region will come to submit.”

The Hongdao Lu says: Ruler, do not agree to someone’s face, then say something different once they have left. When, in the great court hall before the assembled officials, people dare to offend the ruler’s dignity and touch upon what is taboo, they do so to restrain human desire as soon as it begins to arise, and to preserve the Principle of Heaven before it is extinguished. This should serve as a warning!

“Even when there is no danger, remain vigilant” means that a ruler should stay on guard even while dwelling in spacious chambers and sitting on soft cushions. With a wise ruler at the front and those who dare to remonstrate frankly behind him, order can be established before the state falls into disorder and the realm preserved before it comes to peril.

Yi did not say that the tribes from every quarter and distant region came to submit because weapons were sharp and armor strong. He attributed it instead to appointing the worthy, removing the corrupt, and uniting those above and below. This reveals Yi’s aspirations. During his tenure, the Miao came to submit and Heaven responded. Could such events have been mere chance?

Mencius said: “Tang of Shang upheld the Middle Way in his conduct and appointed the worthy without regard to convention.”

The Hongdao Lu says: Yao, Shun, and Yu spoke only of upholding the Middle Way; they did not specifically speak of appointing the worthy without regard to convention. This was because in the age of Yao and Shun there were worthy people in abundance: the Eight Yuan and Eight Kai, renowned figures of virtue, as well as the Nine Ministers and the Twelve Pastors. Worthy people lived together in harmony and humility, and the court had no shortage of talent. In the time of Tang of Shang, however, he personally sought out the worthy minister Yi Yin and went to invite him five times. Yi Yin had served both Tang and Jie. If Tang had not sent people to invite him time and again, how would Yi Yin have come to his senses and entered service as his assistant?

This practice of yielding the imperial throne to another and handing over the state, and the practice of eliminating a doomed state and making a surviving one secure, arose from different circumstances. Yet, in the end, both sought to attain sagely understanding and to pursue with wholehearted devotion the Way of centrality and correctness. Did they not travel the same road?

The Tang Proclamation says, “Sincerely seek a great sage and work with him to accomplish a great undertaking.” It also says, “Sincerely seek a person of pure and undivided virtue and appoint him to serve as the spirit lord—the one who presides over the sacrifices.”

The Hongdao lu says: These words show how important the moral standing of those who assist a ruler truly is. There can be no doubt that Shang Tang took this responsibility upon himself. He called the person he sought not merely a “sage,” but a “great sage”; he spoke not merely of virtue, but of “One Virtue”—virtue that is pure and without equal. Such a person can establish the right order for Heaven and Earth and secure the people’s destiny. When he follows Heaven’s intent, Heaven does not oppose him; when he responds to the times, he can carry out Heaven’s timing. That is why the text says, “work with him to accomplish a great undertaking” and appoint him “to serve as the spirit lord.” How unlike the rulers of later generations, who were willing only to let their ministers do what they had taught them, and not what they themselves had learned from others. Such a ruler’s Way is merely ordinary and shallow. No wonder such rulers consider themselves enlightened.

Wan Zhang asked, “Is it true that Yi Yin sought employment with Shang Tang by using his skill at preparing food?”

Mencius said: Yi Yin once farmed in the outskirts of the Youxin domain, taking joy in the Way of Yao and Shun. If something did not accord with righteousness and the right Way, then even if offered the income of the whole realm, he would not so much as glance at it; even if offered four thousand horses, he would not care. If something was unrighteous and contrary to the right Way, he would not take even a small portion of it to give to another, nor take even a small portion of it from someone else.

Shang Tang sent people with gifts to invite him. Yi Yin said calmly, “Why should I want the gifts Shang Tang has sent? Would I not be better off staying in the fields, finding joy in the Way of Yao and Shun?”

Shang Tang sent people to invite him three times. Later, Yi Yin suddenly changed his mind and said, “How could staying in the fields and finding joy in the Way of Yao and Shun compare with making this ruler a ruler like Yao and Shun? How could it compare with making these people like the people of Yao and Shun’s age? How could it compare with seeing such a state come to pass with my own eyes? Heaven gives life to the people so that those who know and awaken first may enlighten those who know and awaken later, and those who awaken first may rouse those who awaken later. I am one of the people Heaven has brought into the world who awakened first, and I intend to enlighten the people through this right Way. If I do not enlighten them, who will? I think that if even one ordinary man or woman among the people of the world has not received the blessings of Yao and Shun, it is as though I myself had pushed them into a ditch.”

Yi Yin shouldered the weight of the whole world in this way. He therefore went to see Shang Tang and urged him to attack Xia Jie and save the people.

The Hongdao lu says: After the Four Peaks—the senior ministers said to have assisted Yao and Shun—recommended candidates, Yao still had them undergo all kinds of difficult trials……

Governing one’s own household is difficult, while governing the realm is easier; drawing close to one’s own family is difficult, while drawing close to all under Heaven is easier. Could Shun truly have yielded the realm to another? I will now try to examine this matter. Yin (Yin Yin, that is, Yi Yin) was invited three times, yet remained composed and at ease, in no hurry to answer the summons. It was not that the ruler lacked reverence. Rather, a ruler who hopes to accomplish great things must have ministers who maintain their dignity without waiting to be summoned. Unless a ruler honors virtue and cherishes the Way, he cannot join such a person in accomplishing his aims. The formalities of the three invitations certainly showed the ruler’s lofty bearing and the grandeur of an imperial ceremony. Even so, Yi Yin was mocked as someone who “cut and cooked his way to Tang”—it was said that he used his skill in cooking to approach King Tang of Shang. This shows how carefully one must weigh when to enter public service and when to withdraw.

Someone else asked, “Why did Yi Yin cherish the Way of Yao and Shun?” The Way of Yao and Shun is already inherent in human nature. How could it exist because I am myself, yet disappear because others are other people? People simply fail to value themselves. When poor and low in station, they worry and feel unsettled, though poverty and low status are no more than they are; what is so terrible about eating coarse grain and wild greens? When wealthy and honored, they pursue these things with urgency, though wealth and honor are no more than they are; what is there in wood and stone, deer and pigs, that deserves such concern?

What matters most, then, is to focus the mind and hold fast to the middle way. If something does not accord with righteousness and the Way, what can be said of focused devotion? What is most rare is to possess the realm without treating it as private property. Yi Yin held only the status of a commoner, yet was unmoved by a state with a thousand chariots. How steadfast was his resolve! What is most essential is to preserve and nurture the original mind: those who awaken first should inspire those who awaken later, and those who know first should guide those who know later. How personally he felt this responsibility! What must come first is the resolve to rescue the suffering and needy, taking every person under Heaven—even an ordinary man or woman—as one’s own responsibility. How urgent was his sense of duty!

Could this have been empty talk, invented to deceive the world and steal a reputation? Later, Mencius seems to have taken up this same responsibility. He said, “If others understand me, I am at ease; if they do not understand me, I am still at ease.” This was just the state of mind in which Yi Yin declined three invitations and entered public service only when he was finally engaged. Mencius also said, “In poverty, do not lose your moral principles; when prominent, do not depart from the right path.” This was the state of mind that did not change according to whether the people of the realm valued him. He said, “Stand at the center of the realm and bring peace and security to the people of the four quarters.” This was the state of mind expressed in the question, “If I do not take this on, who will?” He also said, “When your aims are fulfilled, bring blessings to the people; when prominent, benefit the whole realm.” This was the state of mind of willingly shouldering a great responsibility.

Sadly, the Warring States period was no longer like the Three Dynasties of Xia, Shang, and Zhou, and King Hui of Qi and King Xuan of Qi could not accomplish great things as King Tang of Shang had. We hear only that Mencius stayed in Qi for three nights before leaving Zhudi; we do not hear that a ruler of Qi personally went out three times to welcome him into the state, as King Tang had done when inviting Yi Yin. How moving this is!

The Shuoming says, “Advise and admonish me morning and night, helping me bring my conduct into accord with virtue. Be like a whetstone that sharpens me; like the boat and oars that help me cross a great river; like timely rain that falls in a year of severe drought and nourishes me.”

The Hongdao Lu says, “A whetstone is a stone from another mountain that can be used to polish jade. The boat…”

When circumstances are perilous and action is difficult, even crossing a great river is no easy matter. When unrelenting rain falls, if one can heed remonstrance and accept advice, it is like sweet rain descending upon the people. These three situations all show the role of advisers. Some advisers are like metal: they can help a ruler bring about change. Some are like cinnabar: they can influence those around them. Others are like drought, leaving people in hardship; still others are like a fire that spreads as everything burns together, bringing disaster. So if a ruler can find the right advisers, what can he fail to accomplish? If he cannot find the right people to assist him, will he merely grow dazed with illness and eventually fall gravely sick? What I fear is that the ruler may even wound his own feet, ending up exposed and in distress. This is the profound meaning of the Hongdao lu.

Shuo Fu said to the king, “When wood is cut to the ink line, it becomes straight; when a ruler listens to remonstrance, he can become a sage.”

The Hongdao lu says: “When wood is cut to the ink line” describes the highest purpose of rules and measures: bringing the square and circle into conformity with their proper standards. “When a ruler listens to remonstrance” describes the highest expression of wisdom in human relationships. The rulers who maintained the legacies of the Xia, Shang, and Zhou dynasties, carrying on their predecessors’ work without letting it decline, succeeded because of this. Tang Taizong once quoted these words to instruct the crown prince, thinking they might be a principle worth discussing with him. Later, he added, “If the core of a piece of wood is crooked, all its grain and fibers will be crooked too.” Ah, perhaps that kind of wood is unlike wood cut to the ink line!

Confucius said, “The world was divided into three parts, and King Wen of Zhou held two of them, yet he still remained a subject of the Shang. The virtue of Zhou may truly be called supreme.”

The Hongdao lu says: Confucius praised King Wen of Zhou because he understood the praise of Wen in the Zhouyi (Book of Changes). The Qian hexagram symbolizes Heaven, the ruler, the upper position, the crown, and the head. The Kun hexagram symbolizes Earth, subjects, the lower position, shoes, and the feet. Subjects must not rise above their ruler, just as Earth must not rise above Heaven, the lower position must not exceed the upper, shoes must not be worn on the head, and feet must not be higher than the head. These are the meanings the sages expressed in their commentary on the Zhouyi. Though King Wen was favored by Heaven’s Mandate and won the people’s allegiance, he chose to keep his brilliance in check and act with caution, like someone stepping onto the first thin frost. He was generous in his intentions, upright and open in his conduct, and just and humble in governing the people. The virtue and blessings he gained were therefore boundless—how could they ever be fully recorded or measured? That is why Confucius called his virtue not merely high, but “supreme virtue.” The histories say that King Wen did good in secret. This shows that his excellence would become clear of its own accord, even without waiting for later generations to examine it in detail.

The Records of the Grand Historian recounts that when King Wu of Zhou set out to attack King Zhou of Shang, Boyi and Shuqi seized his horses and remonstrated with him. The people around King Wu wanted to kill them, but Jiang Taigong said, “They are men who uphold righteousness.” He had them helped to their feet and sent away.

The Hongdao lu says: When I consider the remonstrance of Boyi and Shuqi, even today it fills me with awe, as though it still carried the force of life. Yet they ultimately failed to stop King Wu from marching. So, did the remonstrance of men of righteousness indeed…

“What use is there in acting this way?” The reply was: “That is not so. The principles of Heaven endure, and the human heart does not perish, because someone gives them form in a single sentence and establishes them between Heaven and Earth.

“Zhou had already risen, and Yin had already been defeated; these outcomes were settled. King Wu of Zhou had also come in response to the Mandate of Heaven. Yet the moral principle of honoring Heaven and placing Earth below it still endured. If no one had spoken a single word at that moment, would not the firm and vigorous Way symbolized by the Qian hexagram have nearly come to a halt? Would not the principle that ruler and minister each keep to their proper roles have nearly vanished?

“Thus Boyi and Shuqi, sons of the ruler of Guzhu at the end of the Shang, had no choice but to argue their case. They did not argue to prevent the fall of the Yin dynasty, but to preserve the heart of loyalty to Yin. Nor did they argue to stop the rise of Zhou, but to uphold the heavenly principle on which Zhou’s rise depended. Is this not the inexhaustible vital force between Heaven and Earth, which cannot be erased or depleted? It is said that no one can take away the resolve of an ordinary person. But if Boyi and Shuqi refused to accept what their ruler approved, would their moral principle not seem narrow?”

The Wucheng says: “Heaven protects the people below and establishes rulers and teachers for them, so that rulers and teachers may assist the Lord on High and bring peace to the four quarters. Whether people are guilty or innocent, how dare I go against Heaven’s will?”

The Hongdao Lu says: “The Taishi has already called the ruler the parent of the people, and the Wucheng calls the ruler their lord and teacher. Why repeat this so often?” The reply was: “It is not repetition. Heaven nurtures all things with benevolence and sets the people right through moral principle. The Taishi begins with benevolence to show that a ruler must fully carry out moral principle. The Wucheng begins with moral principle to show that a ruler puts benevolence into practice through it.

“Therefore, only the Son of Heaven bears responsibility for setting the laws and institutions in order, establishing rites, appointing the virtuous, and punishing the guilty. Shang Shou, King Zhou of Shang, had become the Son of Heaven, yet he acted recklessly, plunged into disorder and immorality, and abandoned the sacrifices. Where, then, were the laws and rites? He put whole clans to death for the crimes of individuals, and appointed officials solely by hereditary rank. Where, then, were the principles of recommending the worthy and attacking the guilty?

“If the Son of Heaven cannot assist the Lord on High and bring peace to the four quarters, then Heaven and Earth’s clear discernment will cease, and the spiritual nature of all things will be scorned. This is the great Way between Heaven and Earth, and it is for rulers and teachers to put it into practice. Without King Wu, the realm could not have been governed for even a single day; not one matter could have been set right, not one step could have been made secure, and not even one person could have been settled. Whoever holds even the smallest thought of benefiting the realm bears the same responsibility as King Wu. How, then, could anyone be sure they were not going against Heaven’s will?”

King Wu then corrected the Shang government’s decrees while retaining its established policies. He freed the imprisoned Jizi, repaired Bigan’s tomb, and paid his respects as he passed Shang Rong’s home. He distributed the wealth of the Deer Terrace and opened the granaries at Juqiao, extending generous benefits throughout the four quarters. The people rejoiced and submitted to him.

The Hongdao lu comments: This was the time when the Zhou defeated the Yin-Shang and began to establish a new regime. The qualities of governance shown by King Tang also shine through here. The old political and religious institutions of the Shang dynasty formed the foundation for the new government of the Zhou. The Dao lineage passed down by Jizi must never be broken, even for a day; the traditions preserved in Shang ritual and law must never be abandoned, even for a day; the principles upheld by Bigan in his commitment to the right way must never be bent, even for a day; and the will of Heaven, toward which the people looked, must never grow distant or fall apart. Distributing wealth was not an act of private generosity, but a way to enrich all under Heaven. Bestowing rewards widely was not a bid for a reputation for giving, but a way to enrich worthy people. This was why the people rejoiced and submitted with sincere hearts.

Noble ranks were divided into five grades, and scholars into three. Official posts were to be filled by choosing the worthy and capable; duties were to be assigned to those with the ability to carry them out. The people were to be valued, and the five teachings—fatherly duty, maternal care, brotherly affection, fraternal respect, and filial devotion—were to be put into practice. The people were to have food, and funerals and sacrifices were to be properly conducted. Sincerity and trustworthiness were to be cultivated, and righteousness made manifest. Those with De were to be honored, and those with merit rewarded. The ruler could then sit with his robes hanging and his hands folded—an image of governance so well ordered that he need not attend personally to every matter—and all under Heaven would be at peace.

The Hongdao lu comments: This was the final stage in the Zhou’s establishment of its great enterprise, and its qualities of governance were in no way inferior to those of antiquity. The words explaining the “Supreme Norm” (Huangji), the highest standard for a ruler’s governance of all under Heaven, run throughout this whole passage. Only after the people are prosperous can they follow the right path, so noble rank and fiefdom must not be treated lightly. Those who draw near to the Son of Heaven’s radiance must not receive empty titles and rewards without merit. The five teachings must not be neglected in caring for the people. Governing the state and securing the people’s livelihood must come first. By cultivating sincerity and making trustworthiness shine, the Kingly Way becomes broad and open; by honoring those with De and rewarding those with merit, the Kingly Way becomes fair and just. This is why the ruler can sit with his robes hanging and his hands folded, while all under Heaven is at peace.

The Zhouguan records: The king said, “The ancient Way established order before disorder arose and preserved the state before it faced ruin. Tang Yao and Yu Shun examined the institutions of antiquity and appointed the hundred officials. At court there were the Chief Ministers and the Four Peaks; beyond the court there were the provincial governors and the lords. Thus the affairs of government were harmonized, and the myriad states lived in peace. The number of official posts in the Xia and Shang dynasties doubled, yet the system still functioned. When wise rulers establish the institutions of government, what matters is not how many posts there are, but whether the right people have been appointed.

“Now I, a young ruler, am reverent and diligent in virtuous government. I strive day and night, yet still feel I fall short. I admire and follow the governing ways of earlier generations, and use them to instruct officials at every level. The Grand Preceptor, Grand Tutor, and Grand Guardian are established together as the Three Dukes. They deliberate on the Way of governing, administer the state, and harmonize Yin-Yang. The posts need not all be filled; what matters is having the right people. The Junior Preceptor, Junior Tutor, and Junior Guardian are established together as the Three Orphans. The Three Dukes and the Three Orphans spread the teachings and, with reverence and care, assist the Way of Heaven and Earth and assist me, the one ruler.

“The Chief Minister oversees the affairs of the state, directs all the officials, and brings harmony to the four seas. The Minister of Education oversees the state’s instruction, puts the five constant relationships into practice, and cares for the people. The Minister of Rites oversees the state’s rituals, makes offerings to the spirits, orders human affairs, and brings harmony between those above and below. The Minister of War oversees the state’s commands, leads the six armies, and brings stability to the feudal states. The Minister of Justice oversees the state’s prohibitions and investigates wrongdoing…”

This passage comes from the Hongdao lu. It first quotes the Zhouguan, then offers the author’s commentary, and finally turns to the Zhouli account of the “Eight Powers.”

It begins by describing the duties of the Minister of Works (the official responsible for construction and land): to oversee the realm’s territory, settle the four classes of people—scholars, farmers, artisans, and merchants—and bring forth the benefits of the land in their proper seasons. The six ministers, heads of the offices of Heaven, Earth, Spring, Summer, Autumn, and Winter, each manage their own duties and lead their subordinates. They guide the governors of the nine provinces so that the countless people may live in prosperity and peace.

The author says that King Cheng of Zhou drew this teaching from the Duke of Zhou’s discourse, making it a model for all ages that could not be altered. The Zhouguan provides for the Three Dukes and Six Ministers; its principle can be summed up in one sentence: “The offices need not all be filled; what matters is finding the right people.” The Zhouli provides for 360 offices; its principle is likewise summed up in one sentence: “What matters is not the office itself, but the person who holds it.” The Duke of Zhou’s intention is clear from this. Why, then, do those who study the Zhouli offer such conflicting opinions, unable to reach agreement? The Duke of Zhou established a system and entrusted it with a purpose. It is enough to study the system and follow its purpose. Those who merely follow its diagrams and cling to minor details are not good students. This record goes no further than the Zhouguan.

Next comes a warning from the original Zhouguan: Learn the ancient teachings before taking office, and base your discussions of affairs on established rules; then governance will not fall into confusion. Uphold your statutes and precedents, and assist your ruler. Do not use eloquence and clever argument to disrupt your duties. Letting doubts accumulate will ruin your plans; carelessness and neglect will ruin the affairs of government. Without learning, you are like someone facing a wall, unable to see anything; when you handle affairs, all you can do is create confusion.

This is a warning to you ministers: Achievements depend on resolve, undertakings grow through diligence, and only decisiveness prevents future troubles. Do not expect your rank to make you arrogant, or your salary to make you extravagant. Respect and frugality are virtues; do not be deceitful. Practicing virtue brings peace of mind and makes you better day by day, while deceit wears you out and makes you worse. When you hold a favored position, think of the dangers it brings. In every matter, you should remain respectful and cautious; if you do not, you will fall into danger. When worthy people are recommended and capable people given their place, the officials will work in harmony. Without harmony, government affairs become disorderly. If the people you recommend can fulfill their offices, that is your ability; if they are unsuitable, that is your failure in office.

The author comments: This is what is meant by “what matters is not the office, but the person.” An office is an empty vessel; a talented person is its practical use. To be “the right person,” one must study from childhood and put learning into practice in adulthood. This is the standard for educating scholars. Reaching this stage enables one to build great achievements without arrogance or extravagance, to practice virtue and grow better day by day, and to remain mindful of danger while enjoying favor. These are the qualities a high minister should possess. When the worthy are recommended, the capable are given their place, and able people hold the offices suited to them, the government can be administered well over the long term without growing weary. Only the Duke of Zhou could embody this principle, and only King Cheng could put it into practice; later generations have not matched them.

Finally, the Zhouli is quoted: The Grand Steward, head of the Office of Heaven and chief administrator of the court, uses eight powers to assist the ruler in directing the ministers. The first is rank, used to direct those of high status; the second is salary, used to direct matters of wealth; the third is dismissal, used to direct those who have committed offenses; the fourth is the next power in the Eight Powers, which is discussed below.

Noble ranks, stipends, appointments, grants, confiscations, dismissals, and punishments should each follow their proper standards: use appointments to guide people’s conduct, punishments to restrain their faults, grants to encourage good fortune and virtue, promotions to spur people toward good fortune, and confiscations to address poverty.

The Record says: “Handles” are the powers a ruler holds to manage affairs. The ruler holds nine such powers and brings them together in his hands. “To harness” means to control and guide, carrying things forward over a great distance. A ruler governs the realm in order to lead the people of an age toward the good path.

Heaven does not bestow blessings because of good conduct or bring down calamity because of depravity, so people may not necessarily feel awe toward it. If a ruler does not reward the good and punish the wicked, he cannot win people’s trust either. The people’s respect is not owed to those the ruler favors, and the rewards they receive should not depend on his partiality. Rulers and officials alike should emulate the Way of Heaven: Heaven covers all things without favoritism, so how could a sage indulge private preferences? He should neither favor nor despise anyone. Thus, ranks should be granted according to virtue, stipends allocated according to merit, offices assigned to the worthy and capable, and livelihoods provided in proportion to people’s labor. Each person should be placed according to their actual circumstances, not according to the ruler’s personal wishes. Rewards should match good deeds; confiscations should correspond to offenses; dismissals should fit the crimes; and punishments should be proportionate to the faults. These are consequences people bring upon themselves through their own conduct, not decisions the ruler makes arbitrarily.

In this way, the ruler can renew the realm without exhausting his strength and govern an age without wearing down his spirit. If appointments, ranks, and stipends are all granted according to personal preference, while dismissals and confiscations target those the ruler dislikes, this destroys the foundations of government rather than wielding its powers. It is like driving a chariot with rotten reins instead of securely controlling six horses. These principles were meant to admonish rulers. If they are instead used to invite calamity, what purpose can the offices and powers bestowed by Heaven serve? This is the foremost principle of governing the realm, and it must be understood.

The Grand Minister of Education, who oversees instruction and civil affairs, uses eight punishments in the local districts to correct the people: first, punishment for failing in filial duty; second, for failing to live in harmony; third, for neglecting one’s kin by marriage; fourth, for showing disrespect to elder brothers; fifth, for breaking faith; sixth, for failing to care for others; seventh, for spreading rumors that mislead the people; and eighth, for disrupting the people.

The Record says: Of the eight punishments, why are “fabricating statements” and “disrupting the people” singled out? Speech that accords with what is right does not count as fabrication. “Fabricating statements” means slanderous, flattering, and wicked speech: calling what everyone recognizes as right wrong, and what everyone recognizes as wrong right; or introducing unrighteous deeds among the people and making them hard to discern, thereby bringing harm upon the whole realm. This is precisely what the Book of Songs means when it says, “Do not indulge the deceitful flatterers; in this way, guard against those who lead others astray.” Conduct that follows established norms is not called “disruption.” Only conduct that takes reckless chances and seeks gain through luck…

Such people despise and abandon the bonds of proper conduct, seeking only what they have no right to obtain. They defy reason and law, eager to satisfy their own selfish desires. Those skilled at harming others like poisonous snakes and lizards follow their lead, and no one can stop them. As a result, the people throughout the realm suffer. This is precisely what the Book of Songs says: “The people are now in peril; they gaze up at Heaven, bewildered and unaware.” In ancient times, such people were surely put to death.

Tan Xi served his ruler. When the ruler made a mistake, he was to speak up and remonstrate frankly, concealing nothing. In attendance on the ruler, he was also to serve and provide for him within the bounds of his official duties. A minister should diligently fulfill his responsibilities until the end of his life; after the ruler’s death, he should observe mourning for three years according to ritual.

The Record of Broadening the Way says: Why must a minister remonstrate when the ruler makes a mistake? Because the thoughts of a single ruler are bound up with countless affairs. His favor can determine people’s fate, and his authority can decide whether they live or die. If he advances, he can bring peace to the realm; if he retreats inappropriately, he may plunge it into crisis. A minister speaks out because he has no choice: the matter concerns the ruler’s life and death and the safety of the realm. This is called “offending”—that is, challenging the ruler’s wishes and advising him frankly.

Why must a minister keep within the bounds of his duties? Though a minister may be wholly devoted to the ruler, his status and responsibilities have limits. Though affairs may be wide-ranging, an individual cannot take responsibility for everything. Thus, what is great must not encroach on what is small, and those below must not overstep those above. Each person has no choice but to carry out his own duties. Because this concerns good or ill fortune, honor or disgrace, it is called “measure”—that is, keeping within the bounds of one’s responsibilities.

“Those on the ruler’s left and right” refers to attendants close to him; “conceal nothing” means that when he makes a mistake, it must not be kept from him. Though people have different duties, anyone who encounters a matter that calls for remonstrance has a responsibility to speak frankly. It is therefore wrong to evade that duty by claiming to hold no office or have no responsibility to offer advice, or to accuse someone else of speaking beyond their position. How could that be called diligently fulfilling one’s responsibilities?

In “No Ease,” a chapter of the Book of Documents whose title means “Do Not Crave Comfort,” the Duke of Zhou admonishes: “Alas, the noble person should not crave ease. First understand the hardships of sowing and reaping, and only then may one be at ease. In this way, one will understand what the people depend upon. When the people’s parents toil at farming, yet their children do not understand the hardships of agriculture and care only for comfort, their words become reckless and absurd. Otherwise, they will slight their parents and say, ‘People in the past knew nothing.’

“The Duke of Zhou said: ‘Alas, I have heard that in ancient times, Zhongzong of the Yin dynasty was solemn and reverent, stood in awe of Heaven’s mandate, and measured all things against it. He governed the people with care and vigilance, never daring to neglect their well-being. Thus Zhongzong ruled for fifty-five years. When Gaozong was young, he labored for a long time away from home and came into contact with the people. After ascending the throne, he dared not crave ease. He brought peace and harmony to the Yin state, and no one, high or low, harbored resentment. Thus Gaozong ruled for fifty-nine years. Zujia understood what the people depended upon. He was able to comfort them and extend favor to them, and he too did not dare…’”

Zu Jia, who bullied widowers and widows and acted recklessly, reigned for thirty-three years. After him, the kings who succeeded to the throne were born into ease and pleasure. They knew nothing of the hardships of sowing and reaping, nor understood the toil of the people, but gave themselves over to pleasure. From then on, none of the kings lived long: some reigned for ten years, others for seven or eight, five or six, or three or four.

The Duke of Zhou admonished: “Alas! Only the Great King and King Ji of our Zhou house could restrain themselves and remain reverent. King Wen wore plain clothes and personally attended to pacifying the people and farming. He worked from morning until the sun had passed its zenith, with scarcely time to eat. King Wen received Heaven’s Mandate to rule the realm and reigned for fifty years.”

The Duke of Zhou also said: “Alas! From now on, kings who succeed to the throne must be careful not to become absorbed in spectacles, comfort, recreation, and hunting. Let the people supply the state through proper work, and do not neglect government affairs. Do not say, ‘A little pleasure today will do no harm.’ The people should not take this as a model, and it does not accord with Heaven’s intent. To act this way is to commit a grave error. Do not become like the dissolute King Zhou of Yin, who indulged in wine and ruined his Virtue.”

The Duke of Zhou said: “Alas! I have heard that in ancient times people would admonish one another, support one another, and teach and correct one another. The people did not deceive one another or create illusions. Otherwise, they would harbor resentment and defiance in their hearts, and curse and call down misfortune with their words.”

The Duke of Zhou said: “Alas! From King Zhongzong of Yin to King Wen of our Zhou, these four rulers were all discerning and wise. When someone told them, ‘The people resent and revile you,’ they became all the more vigilant and cultivated their Virtue, acknowledging, ‘This is my fault.’ They truly acted this way: instead of daring to harbor anger, they reflected on themselves.”

The Duke of Zhou said: “Alas! Kings who succeed to the throne should take these matters as a warning.”

The Record of Broadening the Way says: This is the foremost principle in the Duke of Zhou’s admonition to King Cheng. Nothing in the world is more humble than sowing and reaping, and nothing is more arduous; yet nothing benefits the people more. At the furthest extreme, one who tills the soil personally can come to possess the realm. No conduct, then, could be more benevolent. This is the foundation for whether Heaven’s Mandate departs or remains, the source of whether people’s hearts turn toward or away from a ruler, the cause of long or short lifespans, and the clearest proof of whether Virtue and good fortune are broad or narrow. Since the time of their ancestors, the Zhou house had accumulated Virtue and practiced benevolent government for more than a thousand years, never forgetting these principles for even a single day.

Yet failing to understand the people’s feelings also falls short of discernment and wisdom. Since the desire for comfort is part of human nature, people must all the more admonish and teach one another. The people’s foolish acts, such as reviling and cursing, can be passed over; what matters is reflecting on oneself and holding oneself accountable. In this way, the Virtue of Wuyi (freedom from craving comfort) can be shared from ruler to people and people to ruler. Is this not something that King Cheng alone should observe…

Be vigilant! The worthy ministers and rulers of later generations were all like this. Indeed, the rulers and ministers of every age were the same. That is why writings often begin with an exclamation such as “Alas!”—to express deep regret and offer earnest admonition.

The Duke of Zhou worried that King Cheng did not yet understand the hardships of farming. So he told him about Hou Ji, the legendary god of agriculture and ancestor of the Zhou people, and Gong Liu, an ancestor of the Zhou, and how they taught the people. He also had blind musicians—who in ancient times performed music and chanted poems—recite poems morning and evening to instruct the king. One poem says:

In the seventh month the weather turns cool; in the ninth month we sew our winter clothes. In the eleventh month the wind bites; in the twelfth the cold cuts to the bone. Without coarse cloth garments or padded jackets, how can we endure the year? In the first month we mend our tools; in the second we go out to the fields. The young men who return home with me carry food to the southern fields. The field officer comes among the crops, greatly pleased.

In the seventh month the weather turns cool; in the ninth month we sew our winter clothes. Spring grows warm, and the oriole calls. A woman takes a deep basket and follows the path to gather tender mulberry leaves. Spring days are long, and those gathering young plants stream along without end. The woman’s heart is heavy; she fears she will soon be sent to marry the young lord.

In the seventh month the weather turns cool; in the eighth month we cut reeds. In the month for raising silkworms, we prune the mulberry branches. We take up axes and cut down distant poplars; the mulberry branches are graceful and supple. In the seventh month the shrike calls; in the eighth we begin to weave. We weave black and yellow cloth, and the bright red cloth shines especially vivid, to make clothes for the young lord.

In the fourth month the milkwort flowers; in the fifth, locusts chirr. In the eighth month we harvest the grain; in the tenth, leaves fall from the trees. In the first month we hunt, taking fox and raccoon-dog pelts to make a fur coat for the young lord. In the twelfth month we hunt together, continuing our martial training. We keep the small pigs to eat ourselves and present the large ones to the authorities.

In the fifth month the grasshoppers spring with their hind legs; in the sixth, the katydids beat their wings. In the seventh month the crickets are in the fields; in the eighth they reach the eaves; in the ninth they come to the door; in the tenth they crawl beneath the bed. We plug the mouse holes, smoke out the rats, seal the north-facing window, and patch the doors. Alas, my people returning home! The year is drawing to a close; come inside and stay.

In the sixth month we eat Chinese plums and wild grapes; in the seventh we cook mallow and beans. In the eighth we gather jujubes; in the tenth we bring in the rice. With these we brew spring wine and wish for long life. In the seventh month we eat melons; in the eighth we pick gourds; in the ninth we gather hemp seeds, bitter greens, and the leaves of the tree of heaven, to feed the farmhands.

In the ninth month we prepare the threshing floor; in the tenth we bring in the harvest: millet, glutinous millet, early and late-ripening grains, as well as other grain crops, hemp, beans, and wheat. Alas, farmers! The harvest is all gathered, yet you must go to the government offices to perform labor service. By day you cut thatch; by night you twist rope. Hurry and repair the houses. Then it will be time to sow all the grains.

In the first month we chisel ice, clink, clink, and store it in the ice cellar. In the early morning of the fourth month, we offer a lamb and chives in sacrifice.

In the ninth month, the weather turns cold, and frost and dew gather on the plants. In the tenth month, the grounds are cleared, and the season’s farm work comes to an end. The people prepare food and wine, slaughter lambs, enter the public hall, and raise their cups to wish the king a boundless life.

The Record of Broadening the Dao says: This poem and the chapter “Wuyi” can be read as mutually illuminating. Ordinary people understand each word and each layer of meaning in the poem, and so do exemplary persons. As for its profound principles, even a sage may not be able to express them fully. The Book of Songs contains writings that order Heaven and Earth and words that connect all affairs above and below, yet it does not lay its principles plainly before the reader. Instead, it lets people grasp them through the singing and recitation of poetry. This has a stronger power to guide and transform than simply explaining the principles directly.

Singing and recitation can nurture a person’s disposition. When a king is young and his vital energies have not yet settled, musicians are made to perform these poems for him. In this way, the private company of palace attendants and servants grows more distant. The poems of antiquity were like songs today: sung around the king morning and evening, they could lead him away from indulgence, pleasure-seeking, idleness, and arrogance. Those who counseled kings in ancient times did not need to forbid pleasure in music and beauty; the king would naturally turn away from it. They did not need to forbid hunting; the king would naturally give it up. They did not need to stop his carriage or interrupt his bathing; without realizing it, he would be deeply affected. They did not need to offend him with direct remonstrance; without realizing it, he would grow accustomed to hearing advice. How rarely one finds a wise ruler able to preserve the ancestral legacy as in the time of the “Three Campaigns”!

When the Duke of Shao Kang accompanied King Cheng on an excursion, he composed a song at Juan’e. Drawing on the poem that King Cheng sang, he made this one to admonish the king:

“The hillside rises and dips; the southern breeze blows. O gentle and gracious lord, come wander and sing, and give voice to what is in your heart.

“You roam at ease and rest in peace. O gentle and gracious lord, may your nature unfold fully, and may you accomplish great things as your forebears did. Your territory is vast, and the dependent states are prosperous.

“O gentle and gracious lord, may your nature unfold fully, and may you become the lord of the hundred spirits. May you long receive Heaven’s mandate, in well-being and good fortune.

“O gentle and gracious lord, may your nature unfold fully, and may you continually enjoy pure and generous blessings. You have supporters and protectors, and filial, virtuous people to help and assist you. O gentle and gracious lord, the four quarters take you as their model.

“Your bearing is noble and dignified, as beautiful as a jade gui and a jade zhang. Your good name is renowned, your reputation illustrious. O gentle and gracious lord, you are the standard followed by all four quarters.

“The phoenix soars, its wings light and swift; it flies here, then settles there. The court is full of capable people. The lord appoints them and brings them close to the Son of Heaven.

“The phoenix soars, its wings light and swift; it flies upward into the sky. The court is rich in worthy people. The lord appoints them and brings them close to the people.

“The phoenix calls from the lofty ridge, where the paulownia tree grows…”

The phoenix, beneath the morning sun, has luxuriant wings and sings in harmony. The gentleman’s chariots and horses are many and splendid; the horses are well trained and run with ease. The poem I offer is not long. I simply use this song to express my feelings.

The Hongdao lu says: Looking back to the ancients, none showed greater loyalty and devotion to their ruler than the ministers of King Cheng of Zhou. Yet consider how they admonished their ruler: first, they described a delightful place like Juan’e, with its refreshing breeze and fine scenery; then they used song to offer counsel, without sharp or urgent words. The poem was brief and carried no air of pressing the ruler to listen. It began with a scene that stirred the heart and ended by presenting images of peace and auspiciousness. This was the way of the sages of antiquity: their words found their own way into the world, and through them, principle and expression fulfilled one another. The ruler listened at ease, reflecting on the words again and again without tiring of them, while his heart gradually came into accord with their deeper meaning. Ah, once hearts are in accord, words can be forgotten. What need, then, is there for stern admonition?

The Hongdao ends here.

Hongdao lu, Section Five, “Righteousness”

Righteousness between Ruler and Minister

The “Charge to King Kang” records: King Kang entered the inner side of the Ying Gate. The Grand Protector led the western lords in through the gate’s left side, while Bi Gong led the eastern lords in through its right side. They all presented chariots drawn by four yellow horses. The guests held jade tablets and gifts as they announced, “We, your servants, respectfully offer the tribute of our fiefs.” They bowed twice, touching their foreheads to the ground. King Kang, as ruler and heir to the virtue of the former kings, returned their bow.

The Grand Protector and the Earl of Rui came forward together and said, “We respectfully address the Son of Heaven: Heaven changed the Mandate of the Yin dynasty and entrusted it to Zhou. King Wen and King Wu of Zhou received the Mandate in full and brought peace to the west. Now that Your Majesty has newly ascended the throne, you must coordinate rewards and punishments in every respect, establish and consolidate your achievements, and pass this fine legacy on to future generations. May Your Majesty act with reverence and care, and order and strengthen the Six Armies. Do not damage the great responsibility entrusted by your high ancestors.”

King Kang said, “Leaders of the various states, and those who hold the offices of Hou, Dian, Nan, and Wei: I, Ji Zhao, issue this charge to you. In the past, King Wen and King Wu worked strenuously to pacify the realm. They did not make punishment their sole concern, but brought the world to peace and justice. Their enlightened commands won the trust of all, and so they had brave soldiers and steadfast ministers who together defended and governed the royal house. Now I hope that you, my uncles, will continue to support one another. Keep in mind and bring peace to the people left by our former lords, and ensure that they obey the governance of the former kings. Though you may be far from the court, do not let your hearts stray from the royal house. Give your full support to the affairs of government. Do not abandon your young ruler and bring shame upon me.”

The Hongdao lu says: Earlier Confucian scholars thought that “ordering and strengthening the Six Armies” sounded like urging the ruler to prize military force. Others said that people in an age of peaceful succession are liable to sink into ease and pleasure and lack ambition. Both views are mistaken.

The great affairs of the state are sacrifices and warfare. When King Kang of Zhou received the final instructions of the late king, the Grand Protector (Duke of Shao Shi, a high minister who assisted the royal house) presented the wine cup and performed three libations and three ritual pourings. He then left the hall and waited outside. This was no ordinary occasion. The final instructions began by calling for the military to be put in order precisely to show that this was a great affair of the state. The modern-script version of the Book of Documents incorporates this passage into “The Testamentary Charge” for just this reason. The rites of returning a bow and stating one’s name, among others, all took place within the first year after the late king’s death. Thus, the phrase “the heir to the virtue” does not mean that someone foresaw trouble in advance, before it had arisen; to read it that way is to go too far.

The chapter “Jun Chen” records King Cheng as saying: “Jun Chen, you possess fine virtue: you are filial and respectful, and you love your brothers. You can put these qualities into practice in government. Now I appoint you to govern the eastern suburbs—the area around Chengzhou, where the surviving people of the Shang are settled. Be prudent! In former times, the Duke of Zhou served as a teacher and protector of the people, who remain grateful for his kindness. When you go, carry out your duties with care and follow the enduring principles. Make the Duke of Zhou’s teachings clear, and the people will be well governed. I have heard that the finest governance has a fragrance that moves the spirits. The millet offered in sacrifice is not itself fragrant; only bright virtue is truly fragrant. Model yourself on the Duke of Zhou’s plans and teachings. Be diligent each day and never slacken; do not dare to seek ease. Before ordinary people see a sage, they seem unable to catch up with him; once they have seen him, they still may not follow him. Take this as a warning!”

The author of the Hongdao lu comments: “I believe that when the Duke of Zhou lived in the east for three years, he was not personally there to supervise the people of Shang. Rather, the people of the east longed for him. That is why the Odes say, ‘I saw this gentleman, dressed in robes embroidered with patterns,’ and also, ‘Do not take our Duke of Zhou away; do not leave our hearts in sorrow.’ The surviving people of Shang had probably already come to understand that ‘bright virtue alone is fragrant.’ Seeing a sage with their own eyes moved them profoundly. Because Jun Chen was filial, loving toward his brothers, respectful, and prudent, and could model himself on a sage, he was appointed to govern and encouraged to aspire to ‘see the worthy and strive to equal them.’ King Cheng’s treatment of Jun Chen was exceptionally thoughtful. This does not mean that stubborn people can be transformed without seeking someone resolute and strong, or that the task should simply be entrusted to the filial and brotherly Jun Chen. To understand it that way would make the relationship between ruler and minister far too narrow.

“King Cheng also said: ‘If you have a sound plan, enter the court and report it to your ruler; offer your counsel within the court, then carry it out beyond the court in accordance with his direction. And say: These plans are all the result of our ruler’s virtue. Ah! When ministers are all this compliant, they are good ministers, and they bring honor to their ruler’s virtue. Do not rely on your authority to throw your weight around, and do not use the law as a pretext to diminish generosity. Keep to the rules while remaining calm and measured; in this way, bring the people of Shang into harmony. If the people commit offenses and I say they should be punished, do not punish them lightly; if I say they should be pardoned, do not pardon them lightly either. Seek only what is appropriate to the middle way. If anyone resists your orders and refuses your instruction, use punishment to prevent further wrongdoing. But those who give themselves over to wickedness, undermine the enduring principles, and disrupt the customs must also be dealt with according to the law.’”

Do not overlook every petty fault that arises in the world; but do not lose patience out of distaste for stubborn people, and do not demand that everyone be without flaws.

Only through patience can things be accomplished; only through tolerance can virtue show its greatness. When judging others, see both what they do well and what they do poorly. Promote the worthy so that they may guide those who are less worthy.

I alone bear many misfortunes.

The Hongdao lu says: “When I read King Cheng of Zhou’s decree to Jun Chen, I see that it was in truth written for all generations to come. Bright virtue, filial devotion, and fraternal affection are the foundations of governance; loyalty, obedience, generosity, and harmony are the means by which governance is carried out. If there is any error in bestowing favor or asserting authority, in imposing punishments, or in taking action and rushing to judgment out of anger, one may end up catering to one side or showing favoritism. To reproach others for what one cannot do oneself, to lead them by ways they cannot follow, or to demand that they be without flaws—none of these is a wholly good course. King Cheng therefore set out these situations one by one, and in the end concluded that tolerance and patience are the greatest virtues. At the time, King Cheng was in the prime of life. What he had most to fear was his own inability to be patient and tolerant. Since he used these principles to admonish his ministers, surely he also used them to encourage himself. Otherwise, why would he have said, ‘Do not wait for me to pardon you, nor wait for me to punish you’? Was this not precisely meant to prevent punishments from being imposed recklessly?”

The “Biming”: In the twelfth year of King Cheng of Zhou, in the sixth month, the first day was the day Gengwu. Three days later, on the day Renshen, King Cheng set out in the morning from Zongzhou for Feng and appointed Duke Bi, a minister of the early Zhou, to pacify and govern the people of the eastern outskirts. King Cheng said:

“Ah, Master Fu! King Wen and King Wu transformed the world through their abundant virtue, and so were able to receive Heaven’s Mandate from the Shang. The Duke of Zhou assisted the former kings and brought stability to the Zhou house. He also moved the stubborn remnants of the Shang to Luoyi, placing them near the royal house so that they could receive its teaching. Now thirty-six years have passed. The times and customs have changed, the regions in every direction are at peace and free from worry, and I too have found peace.

“The way of governance rises and falls, and government affairs must be adjusted as customs change. If what is bad is not improved, the people will not be diligent. Duke Bi, your virtue is deep, and you attend even to the smallest matters with diligence. You have assisted four generations of kings, and have led your subordinates with stern integrity; none has failed to follow your instruction. Your achievements surpass those of the former kings. Now I, a young ruler, sit with my robes hanging and hands folded, relying on you to bring governance to completion.

“Now I appoint you to take up the responsibilities of the Duke of Zhou and go to the eastern outskirts. Distinguish the good from the wicked; commend good conduct and punish wrongdoing. Establish good customs so that people may take them as their example. For those who do not follow the laws and teachings, set out the boundaries of their fields so that they may feel apprehension and learn to admire good conduct. Redraw the boundaries of the countryside as well, and secure the frontier with care, so that the realm may be brought to peace.

“In governance, what matters is perseverance; in speech, what matters is relevance. Do not pursue novelty for its own sake. The customs of the Shang region…”

The clever-tongued, who delight in showing off their verbal skill, are still subject to the lingering influence of the instruction left by worthy and enlightened men. Jun Chen, you must keep this firmly in mind! The Duke of Zhou carefully laid the foundations; Jun Chen was able to bring harmony to what he began; and Duke Bi was able to bring the work to completion.

The three former kings worked together in unity of heart and turned toward the Dao (the Way). When the Dao was put into practice, government was clear and orderly, and its beneficence nourished the people. Even among the peoples of the four quarters—those whom the text calls the “Four Barbarians,” including those who wore their garments fastened on the left—there was none who did not receive its benefits. You, their successors, will enjoy abundant blessings for a long time.

The Hongdao lu says: In my view, Jun Chen was commissioned to govern the state not merely to pacify the stubborn people of Yin and Shang. It seems that King Cheng of Zhou divided the realm into eastern and western parts, placing each under the rule of a regional lord. East of Shaan was under the Duke of Zhou; Jun Chen succeeded him, and Duke Bi succeeded Jun Chen. Thus, when Jun Chen took office, he often led the eastern lords through the Ying Gate, the main gate of the palace city. The king’s commission to him was probably not issued only when he first took up his post; when King Cheng first came to the throne, there must also have been words of commission. Duke of Shao, as lord of the west, alone left no such proclamation. Perhaps he remained at court to assist the Son of Heaven; perhaps the records simply failed to preserve it. We cannot know.

The Jing (classic) speaks of “warning the stubborn people of Yin and Shang” because it begins with the matter at hand. It also speaks of “the old customs of Shang” and “the men of Yin and Shang” because the Zhou took the Shang as a lesson in everything they did. Could these words really have been casual remarks made only in a proclamation? Zhou poems also speak of “the men of Yin, excellent and quick-witted” and “the descendants of Shang.” These are the very people in question.

The Jing’s words about “honoring the good and distinguishing them from the wicked, making good conduct evident and punishing evil” set out the fundamental duties of governing a state. They do not mean that all attention should be fixed on the people left behind by Yin and Shang. Nor do they mean that the Duke of Zhou was responsible only for carefully laying the foundations, Jun Chen only for embracing and harmonizing what he inherited, and that the task of distinguishing good from evil began only now. The commentators failed to grasp the Jing’s main point. They made “warning the stubborn people of Yin and Shang” and the city of Luoyi the center of their interpretation, distorting the broad principles of statecraft into a narrow account of instructing the people of Yin. They also departed from the charge that King Kang should calmly carry on the successful governance he had inherited.

Because they cling to this one interpretation, their explanations of the passages about “peace throughout the four quarters,” “stability across the realm,” “beneficence nourishing the people,” and “all the Four Barbarians receiving its benefits” come across as strained and awkward. Readers should consider this carefully.

I have heard that families who have enjoyed stipends for generations rarely follow ritual and proper conduct. They indulge themselves and use their power to override virtue, acting in clear defiance of the Way of Heaven. They corrupt instruction and pursue luxury and display; this has gone on for thousands of years. Some among the men of Yin and Shang had long relied on favor, indulging in extravagance without regard for what was right. They dressed more splendidly than others, and were arrogant, licentious, and boastful. They were likely to end by doing evil. Even if they were to curb their indulgence and submit to restraint, that would be difficult. Only those who have ample wealth and are willing to accept instruction can establish themselves for the long term. Taking righteousness as one’s standard is the truly essential teaching. If one does not follow the lessons of the ancients, how can one teach others?

The Hongdao lu says: When I read King Cheng’s words of admonition to the men of Yin and Shang, how earnest they are!

When a good name and widespread praise accrue to oneself, a gentleman does not envy another’s fine clothes.

The hats of Zheng Zizang, and the cap cords and jade ornaments of Chu Dechen, ultimately brought disaster upon them, and neither met a good end.

And these are not the only examples. The appetite for fine food, the fashion for seductive beauty, the desire to indulge in pleasure, and the urge to amass wealth are all bound to emerge as circumstances unfold. Because this passage is of great importance, I cannot casually mix it into other material; here I discuss only the beauty of clothing. Alas, if this was so even in the Three Dynasties of Xia, Shang, and Zhou, how much more so in later ages! It is precisely because freedom from envy and greed is so difficult that it is hard to find suitable talent.

The chapter “Jun Ya” says: The king spoke as follows: “Alas, Jun Ya! Your grandfather and father served the royal house with loyalty and integrity, laboring through generations; their achievements were recorded on the Taichang banner. I, their descendant, have inherited the work of Kings Wen, Wu, Cheng, and Kang, and must also rely on the ministers of former kings to assist me in governing the four quarters. I worry over the state’s security as if treading on a tiger’s tail or crossing thin ice in spring. Now I appoint you to assist me as one of my chief ministers, to continue your ancestors’ duties. Do not bring shame upon them. You must widely put the Five Canons into practice, using them to harmonize the people’s standards of conduct. If you can set yourself right, others will not dare to remain crooked. If the people lack a fair standard in their hearts, it is your duty to uphold what is fair.

“When summer is hot and rainy, the people complain; when winter is bitterly cold, the people complain as well. Governing the people is indeed difficult! Only by anticipating where the difficulties lie can one find ways to get things done and bring peace to the people. Alas, how bright were King Wen’s plans, how magnificent King Wu’s achievements! They protected and enlightened later generations, enabling those who came after them to remain upright and free of fault.”

The Hongdao lu records: “These were the words of King Mu of Zhou. Did Confucius approve of him?” The reply was: “No. I observe that in the former dynasties, although carriages and horses traveled to and fro, the roads for public and private affairs were always kept separate. Thus, the laws and institutions, punishments and decrees, rites and music belonged to the sphere of selecting talent for public service. Banquets and amusements, sightseeing and spectacles, sensual pleasures and material gain, by contrast, served private desires. Public affairs did not have to abolish private life, nor could private life be allowed to hinder public affairs. The two had always proceeded side by side without conflict, and so disorder did not arise.

“Did Confucius not say that Zhong Buyu managed affairs concerning guests, while Wangsun Jia managed military affairs? How, then, could the state have fallen into disorder? Suppose King Mu had followed his own whims, appointed Zaofu as a trusted chief minister instead of appointing Jun Ya as Minister of Education, and mixed the Five Teachings and Five Canons into a single path, allowing gentlemen and petty men alike to occupy important posts. Who then could have found a way to quiet the people’s complaints? And who could have carried on the teachings and admonitions of Kings Wen and Wu? The sage…”

These passages were compiled in the scriptures precisely to make clear that established laws and standards must not be thrown into disorder, and that the institutions governing society must not be allowed to lapse. Their purpose is profound.

The Jiongming records the Zhou king as saying:

“Bo Jiong, I have not lived up to the standards of De. Having inherited the great undertaking of my forebears and taken the throne, I am constantly on guard and filled with apprehension. Even when I wake in the middle of the night, I think about how to avoid making mistakes.

“In the past, Kings Wen and Wu were wise and enlightened. Their great and lesser ministers alike were loyal and well-intentioned. Among those who served beside them, drove their chariots, and accompanied them, there was not one who was not upright. These men assisted their rulers day and night. They attended them with respect and diligence as they came and went and went about their daily lives, and none of the commands they issued was improper. The people were settled and obedient, and the feudal lords throughout the realm lived in peace. This was not because I alone am worthy. In truth, it depended on the ministers who served around me, both before and behind me: they corrected my shortcomings, restrained my faults, pointed out my errors, and set my improper thoughts right, enabling me to carry on the work of my forebears.

“I now appoint you to serve as Grand Director, responsible for overseeing the many attendants and officials close to me. You must work hard to strengthen the ruler’s De and help one another correct your shortcomings. Choose your subordinates with care. Do not appoint those who speak glibly, appear agreeable, and excel at flattery and ingratiation. Select only upright and worthy men.

“When attendants are upright, the ruler can remain correct; when they flatter him, the ruler comes to believe himself wise. Whether the ruler has De or lacks it is also the responsibility of his ministers. Do not draw close to treacherous and base men, letting them serve as the ruler’s eyes and ears and lead him toward actions that violate the standards of the former kings. Such men are not worthy; they regard only material wealth as something good. If you allow this to happen, you will have failed in your duty. If you cannot respectfully assist the ruler, I will hold you accountable.”

The Hongdao Lu comments:

The Jiongming concerns officials responsible for overseeing the ruler’s attendants. According to the Rites of Zhou, these positions were held by members of the educated class. They accompanied the ruler day and night, joined him at banquets, and served and attended him at his side. Among their subordinates were the Sacrificial Attendant, who handled ritual matters; the Household Attendant, who cared for the ruler’s daily needs; the Military Chariot Attendant, who drove the war chariot; and the Royal Carriage Attendant, who oversaw the ruler’s vehicles. With the right people in these roles, the ruler would gradually be drawn toward goodness through their influence. With the wrong people, he would be misled by the treacherous and flattering, and gradually turn toward evil without realizing it.

In later ages, rulers relied exclusively on eunuchs and favored intimates, yet gave them no clearly defined duties or responsibility to offer counsel. As a result, they concerned themselves only with pleasing words, flattery, and winning the ruler’s favor, while accumulating wealth and accepting bribes. The Zhou court historians had already foreseen the beginnings of this calamity. Although this proclamation appears to admonish Bo Jiong, in fact it was also meant to instruct later generations. Must we wait until the roots of disorder have taken hold and the abuses are fully exposed before recognizing the problem?

It is also said that earlier Confucian scholars believed that, in these two texts, the benevolent and worthy men of the time refined their words and expressed their sincerity to encourage the ministers. This was precisely intended to move the ruler. The original text is incomplete here.

Chapter “Observing the One” says, “His descendants consider themselves wise”; Chapter Two says, “They regard wealth alone as auspicious.” These two statements point to the roots of calamity.

Was King Mu of Zhou unable to listen to others? When he indulged himself in pleasure and raced about for amusement, he must have compared himself to Yao and Shun, who ascended to Heaven and left the world. When he rejected remonstrance and concealed his faults, he must have thought himself as worthy and virtuous as Yu and Tang. And when he refused to rest and busied himself with affairs of state, he must have justified himself by invoking the diligence and concern for the realm of Kings Wen and Wu. In this way, he could do as he pleased, with no qualms. Once extravagance took root, who could make the state prosperous? The “Punishments of Lü” chapter in the Book of Documents repeatedly discusses redeeming crimes with goods. This shows how highly people of that time valued wealth.

The “Punishments of Lü” also earnestly urges the ruler to correct his faults. It warns his close attendants, who curry favor and excel at pleasing him, and reminds the ruler to pay heed to what he hears and sees around him. This may be called a skillful, tactful way of remonstrating with a ruler. Whether Bo Wen actually heeded these words and used them to correct himself, or continued to do as he pleased, I cannot know. But acting in this way would not have betrayed the remonstrator’s intent.

The Discourses of the States records that King Mu of Zhou was preparing to campaign against the Rong of Da, when the Duke of Ji, Moufu, remonstrated with him: “You must not. The former kings made their Virtue shine; they did not flaunt their military might. Their armies were kept in reserve and deployed only when the time was right; when deployed, they could display their authority. If military might is merely flaunted, people will grow accustomed to it. Once they are accustomed to it, it can no longer inspire awe.

“The former kings governed the people by striving to set Virtue upright and cultivate the people’s nature, by ensuring that goods were plentiful and implements convenient, and by explaining what was beneficial and harmful. They also instructed the people through rites and laws, so that they pursued what was beneficial, avoided what was harmful, cherished Virtue and righteousness, and feared authority. In this way, the state could remain at peace for generations and gradually flourish.

“The former kings established different duties for the subjects of each region. The royal domain was called the Dian domain; the lands beyond it, the Hou domain; the Hou and Wei territories, the Bin domain; the Man and Yi peoples, the Yao domain; and the Rong and Di peoples, the Huang domain. Those in the Dian domain made daily offerings; those in the Hou domain, monthly offerings; those in the Bin domain, seasonal offerings; those in the Yao domain, annual tributes; and those in the Huang domain came to court at appointed intervals. This was the order taught by the former kings.

“If anyone failed to make offerings on time, one first examined and corrected one’s own intentions. If they failed to present offerings on time, one corrected one’s words; if they failed to make seasonal offerings, one corrected one’s written instructions; if they failed to pay tribute, one corrected their status; and if they failed to come to court, one cultivated and clarified one’s Virtue. If the proper order had been established and they still did not come, one then put the punishments in order. Thus, those who failed to make offerings were punished; those who failed to present them on time were attacked; those who failed to make seasonal offerings were brought to heel; those who failed to pay tribute were reprimanded; and those who failed to come to court received a written warning. Accordingly, there were punishments, attacks, campaigns, forceful admonitions, and written cautions.

“After commands had been issued and admonitions delivered, if they still did not obey, one should all the more cultivate and clarify one’s Virtue, rather than burdening the people with expeditions to distant lands. Then none of those nearby would fail to obey, and those far away would also come to submit.”

The passage then says, “Now, since the death of Da Bi Bo Shi…”

The Dayong clan, a tribal group during the Western Zhou, came to pay court according to the rites for visits by the feudal lords. King You of Zhou said, “I must send troops against them because they failed to attend the banquet, and use this opportunity to see what their army is like.” Someone advised him: “Would this not discard the teachings of the former kings and damage Your Majesty’s authority? I have heard that the Dayong are honest and sincere. They can learn the virtues of their forebears, remain steadfast to the end, and hold firm to their convictions. They are capable of resisting us.” King You would not listen. He still sent out troops, captured four white wolves and four white deer, and returned. From then on, the distant tribes no longer came to pay court.

The Hongdao lu comments: This was the first sign of the calamity that would later lead to King You’s death. Frost does not turn to solid ice in a single day. King Mu and King Kang of Zhou were separated by only two generations; the beneficence of Kings Wen and Wu still ran deep, and the foundations of peace had not yet been shaken. What was there to fear from the small Dayong clan? Yet King You failed to see that the poison of a wasp’s sting could bring about a catastrophe that engulfed the realm. The fall of the Western Zhou truly began here. The Guoyu begins its account with this incident, perhaps expressing Confucius’s intent.

Taking this as a warning, some later proposed without cause that the state of Yan be seized, ultimately bringing on the Jingkang calamity. Others rashly launched a northern campaign, which ended in the tragedy at Yashan. Did Mencius not say, “A state must first have brought about its own destruction before others can attack it”? Perhaps this is what is meant by “making virtue manifest without flaunting military power.”

King Li of Zhou favored Rong Yigong. Rui Liangfu warned him: “The royal house is likely to decline. Duke Rong likes to monopolize wealth and profit, but does not understand that this invites great calamity. Wealth and profit are produced by all things and sustained by Heaven and Earth. If someone monopolizes them, the harm will be great. All things between Heaven and Earth draw upon them; how can anyone claim them all for himself? This will anger many people, yet he makes no provision against disaster. If the king is taught to govern in this way, can the royal house endure?

“Those who rule the realm should guide the circulation of wealth and profit, distributing them among all levels, so that spirits, people, and all things each receive their proper share. Even so, they must remain vigilant, fearing that resentment may arise. Now the king is learning to monopolize wealth and profit. How can that work? When ordinary people monopolize wealth and profit, they are called thieves. If the king does the same, few will follow him. If Duke Rong is appointed, the Zhou dynasty will surely decline.”

Later, Rong Yigong was indeed appointed as a high minister. The feudal lords stopped coming to pay court to King Li, who eventually fled into exile at Zhi, in the area of present-day Huozhou, Shanxi.

The Hongdao lu comments: How could wealth and profit make the royal house prosper or decline? When the Zhou dynasty flourished, it distributed the treasures of the Deer Terrace and opened the granaries at Juqiao. Thus all under Heaven turned to them, and they came close to governing without punishments. To this day, the people still praise them. But when the Zhou dynasty declined, it declared, “Only goods and wealth bring good fortune,” and “It is enough simply to be rich.” The rulers gradually…

Earlier, it was said that by the time signs of decline appeared in the various feudal states, and the Son of Heaven had descended from his hall to meet with the feudal lords, the royal house had already lost all its authority. The remonstrance of the Earl of Rui, a minister under King Li of Zhou, was earnest and to the point, drawing on the lesson left by the fall of the Shang. Even so, later sages and worthies shared a common purpose and understanding. Confucius rarely spoke of profit; Zengzi treated “rightness” as true “profit”; and Mencius asked, “Why speak of profit?” Their intentions were in harmony and their aims alike. Only because the age had declined and the Great Way had fallen into disuse, leaving everyone consumed by private desires, did people like Liangfu appear. This account is entirely credible. The Way of Kings Wen and Wu had not yet vanished from the land. So even amid the calamities of the reigns of Kings Yi, Li, You, and Ping, the kingdom did not yet meet the fate it would later suffer through oppressive levies and household taxes imposed head by head.

“Bans,” from the “Major Odes” of the Book of Songs, is a poem in which Fan Bo, a minister under King Li of Zhou, censures the king. Its general meaning is this: Heaven has become perversely cruel, and the people are all suffering and sick. What you say does not accord with the Way, and your plans do not look far ahead. There is no sage on whom you can rely, nor any firm and honest counsel. Since your plans do not look far ahead, I urge you so earnestly. Heaven is sending down calamity; do not act so complacent and dismissive. Heaven is about to bring ruin; do not be so slack and dilatory. When government orders are harmonious, the people can live together in accord; when they bring contentment, the people can be at peace. Though my duties differ from yours, I am your colleague. I have come to advise you, yet you listen with arrogant disdain. My words are practical and useful; do not treat them as a joke. The ancients said that when there is a matter to attend to, one should seek counsel even from those who gather firewood and cut grass. Heaven is bringing calamity; do not make light of it. I, an old man, am sincere and wholehearted, yet you young men are arrogant and self-important. It is not that age has clouded my judgment; it is you who treat danger as a joke. If indulgence and pleasure grow ever more intense, there will be no remedy. Heaven is sending down its anger; do not fawn and flatter. Ritual has been utterly discarded, and good men stand in office like silent statues. The people are groaning, yet no one dares take their measure. After upheaval and disorder, their lives are stripped of what they need, and no one is willing to show kindness to us common people. Heaven guides the people as easily as a xun and chi flute sounding in harmony, a zhang and gui tablet fitting together, or a hand taking up and carrying an object with natural ease. Guiding the people is truly easy; it is because you have set up crooked laws that the people have become so wayward. Good people are the state’s hedge; the common people are its walls; great states are its screens; powerful clans are its supports. Cherish Virtue and there will be peace. The royal kinsmen are the city walls. Do not let those walls be destroyed; do not isolate yourself and stand alone in fear. Revere Heaven’s thunderous anger and dare not indulge in play or ease. Revere Heaven’s portents and dare not give yourself over to reckless abandon. Heaven sees clearly and walks with you; Heaven reveals its signs and roams with you.

The author of the Hongdao lu comments: “Reversal” means that the natural order is for light to shine below and radiance to appear above. But “The Lord on High is perverse; the people below are all afflicted” describes a reversal of that order. Phrases such as “now in distress,” “now in ruin,” “now in cruelty,” and “now in anger” all indicate that Heaven’s anger has not yet endured for long. By contrast, “complacent,” “slack,” “mocking,” and “arrogant” describe people whose minds have grown lax from the outset: they are dismissive and playful, and eager to go along with things. This is perhaps ordinary human nature: lacking a far-reaching perspective, people cannot see the dangers lying ahead.

Those in positions of great power scheme in their hearts, believing that there are no sages left in the world and nothing worth revering. They settle into a life of mere expedience without realizing it. If someone could guide them with sober reverence and correct them through upright words and conduct, their absurd and reckless thoughts could surely be set right. Their habits of frivolity and impatience would be curbed, and their speech and conduct would become harmonious and agreeable; then they might yet improve.

But petty people either deceive them with grand claims or cater to them with flattery. Their hearts then begin to run unchecked: they deceive Heaven and people, stopping at nothing. Afterward, crafty and unscrupulous men seize the opportunity to enter the court and harm the people. Reckless evil deeds rise in turn; decent people can do nothing, and the people’s suffering reaches its utmost. This is speaking from the beginning of events.

The Book of Songs says: “Vast is the Lord on High, ruler of the people below. The Lord on High is awe-inspiring, yet the commands sent down are often mistaken. Heaven brings forth and nurtures the people, but the destinies it gives them are not dependable. Things often begin well, yet few can persevere to the end.”

King Wen warned the Shang: “Alas, Shang! You are so overbearing and cruel, so stubborn and hard. You hold high office and command authority. Heaven has brought forth a man of corrupted virtue, yet you strengthen his power.”

King Wen also said: “Alas, Shang! You administer the government but act against what is right. You appoint the overbearing and resentful; you answer with rumors and harbor bandits, stirring up war and calamity without end.”

King Wen also said: “Alas, Shang! You throw your weight around in the Central Lands—the ancient name for the central plains—stirring up the people’s resentment, and then call this virtue. Your virtue is dark and obscure; you have no upright advisers at your side and no worthy ministers.”

King Wen also said: “Alas, Shang! Heaven did not make you lose yourself in wine. You yourselves have failed to uphold what is right and have given free rein to your desires. Your conduct is already out of order. You no longer distinguish day from night: you only shout and clamor, turning daytime into night.”

King Wen also said: “Alas, Shang! You chatter like cicadas and clamor like boiling water. From top to bottom, within and without, everything is close to ruin. The people in the Central Lands are filled with anger, and calamity has even spread to Guifang, an ancient northern state or tribal group.”

King Wen also said: “Alas, Shang! It is not that Heaven has failed to bestow blessings in their proper season; it is that Shang refuses to follow the old laws. Even without elders of virtue and wisdom, there are still statutes and institutions to follow. You have ignored them, and so the Great Mandate has been overturned.”

King Wen also said: “Alas, Shang! The ancients had a saying: when a tree falls, its branches and leaves may not yet be damaged, but its roots have already been destroyed. The warning from Shang is not far away; it lies in the fall of the Xia dynasty.”

The Record of Broadening the Dao says: These words speak from the final outcome of events. Benevolence and cruelty are far apart, but Heaven does not endow people with such vastly different natures from birth. The key lies in the heart being clouded and ensnared; only then does this develop into throwing one’s weight around, inward anger, and ceaseless clamor.

Did Confucius not say that the wicked deeds of King Zhou of Shang were not, in fact, as grave as legend made them out to be? When someone is brought low and hated by all, every evil reputation in the world is laid at his door.

At that time, the institutions and hereditary ministers of the Zhou, from the Duke of Zhou and the Duke of Shao down to the rulers of Mao, Fan, Rui, Ji, and other states, all shared the Zhou royal house’s fortunes and fate. Their grief, then, must have been deep and intense. As the saying goes, “Only in a fierce wind can one tell whether the plants are strong; only in a time of upheaval can one recognize a loyal minister.” How could we read these words a thousand years later without sighing over them again and again?

King Xuan of Zhou was resolved to restore order. After disaster struck, he grew vigilant and fearful, governed himself with care, and corrected his conduct in the hope of dispelling the calamity. The people of the realm rejoiced that the kingly way of moral instruction was being put into practice once more, and the common people saw their ruler’s concern. So Shu Yong composed a poem in his praise. It says:

“The Milky Way hangs high in the sky, its radiance turning in a circling sweep. The King of Zhou said, ‘Alas, what wrong have the people committed? Heaven sends down calamity, and famine follows famine. There is no spirit we have failed to sacrifice to, no sacrificial animal we have begrudged offering. Even the jade tablets and jade disks have all been used up. Why do the spirits still refuse to heed my prayers?

“‘The drought has long been far too severe. The air is stifling, and the dry spell will not end. We have held sacrifices from the outskirts to the ancestral temple, presenting offerings and burying sacrificial gifts everywhere, above and below. There is no spirit to whom we have not made sacrifice. Yet Houji, ancestor deity of the Zhou, cannot help us, and the High God does not descend. I govern the realm and wear the people down with hardship. Must calamity fall upon me alone?

“‘Since the drought is so severe, there is no evading responsibility. I tremble as though thunder were about to strike. Few of the Zhou people who remain will be able to preserve their descendants. High God of Vast Heaven, will you not let us live? Why do you show us no care? Are the ancestral sacrifices to be cut off?

“‘Since the drought is so severe, the blazing sun burns fiercely, and there is nowhere to find shelter. The Great Mandate is nearing its end; I have nowhere to look for guidance and nowhere to seek help. The high ministers and the upright officials of former generations do not help me either. Fathers, mothers, and ancestors, why do you bear to treat me this way?

“‘Since the drought is so severe, the mountains and rivers are drying up. The drought ravages us like a band of thieves, and the heat scorches like fire. I fear the heat and grieve as though the flames were searing me. High ministers and the upright officials of former generations, do none of you hear my cries? High God of Vast Heaven, must I flee into exile?

“‘Since the drought is so severe, I struggle to endure, yet I fear having to leave. Why make me suffer through drought? I truly do not know the reason. We held the prayers for a good harvest early, and did not delay in sacrificing to the spirits of the land and grain. Yet High God of Vast Heaven still shows us no care. We have made our offerings to the spirits with reverence; surely the spirits should not be angered.

“‘Since the drought is so severe, the order of the state is in disarray, the many officials are worn down, and the chief steward is full of worry. The horse masters, the officers of the royal household, the provisioners, and the attendants at my side have all done their utmost to provide relief, yet no one can stop the calamity. Looking up to Vast Heaven, what are we to do?

“‘Looking up to Vast Heaven, I see only the stars glittering. The great officers and gentlemen have all done their utmost to make our prayers known to the spirits. The Great Mandate is nearing its end. Do not abandon the work you have already completed. What more do you require of me before you will bring peace to all the officials?’”

The original continues at this point; its final sentence is incomplete.

Gazing up at the vast heavens, when will they grant us peace?

The Hongdao lu says: This was the foundation of King Xuan of Zhou’s revival. King Wen of Zhou sincerely cared for the people, treating their injuries as though he himself had been hurt. The Rites of Zhou records that, in years of famine, the Grand Minister of Education and Administration used twelve measures to relieve hardship and gather and settle the people. These were practical methods. With sincere concern for the people and real measures to aid them, how could one fail to work with anxious vigilance and a heart consumed by worry?

From this we can see that the former kings did not use familiar patterns of disaster as an excuse, nor did they plead that Heaven’s intentions were too remote and obscure to understand. Instead, they personally took responsibility for disaster relief. Only then would the officials do their utmost and the people find stability; the chief minister, who oversaw government affairs on the king’s behalf, would also care for everyone comprehensively. If there were even a little negligence, I believe the Three Dukes, the Nine Ministers, and other high officials would not work diligently from morning to night, nor would the rulers of the feudal states fulfill their duties day and night. How, then, could they bring order to the officials and govern the people well?

Thus Emperor Wu of Han said that floods and droughts were simply part of the natural order, while Emperor Shenzong of Song said that celestial anomalies were nothing to fear. Each deceived himself; no one else misled him. Alas, if you take hold of something scorching hot and do not wash your hand, the pain will never end. When disaster strikes, recognizing the need for vigilance means you must act without hesitation. Panic and disorder, stumbling and losing one’s bearings, are worlds apart from rallying one’s strength and bringing about a revival.

When the Zhou royal house declined, the people were driven from their homes. King Xuan of Zhou was able to comfort and gather them, bringing the displaced back and settling them again in communities. The people were grateful, and so they made this poem:

Wild geese fly, their wings beating in unison.

That man hurries off on campaign, laboring in the fields;

he also cares for those in hardship,

taking pity on widowers and widows with no one to rely on.

Wild geese fly, settling in the marshes.

That man builds city walls, setting many ramparts in motion.

Though the labor is hard, at last we have a place

where we can settle in peace.

Wild geese fly, crying out in sorrow.

Those who understand say that we toil;

the foolish say that we are arrogant.

The Hongdao lu says: This records the achievements of King Xuan of Zhou’s revival. Only after first awakening to worry and exertion could he undertake the work of comforting the people and settling the displaced. In the Minor Odes, this poem comes before “The Sixth Month” because it tells of the achievement of gathering and settling the people. Among the poems included in this book, “Wild Geese” is also the most significant. It differs from another poem that depicts the people’s suffering and their grievances boiling over.

A high official criticized King You of Zhou, saying:

O King, thick frost falls month after month, and my heart is heavy with grief. Rumors among the people grow ever more numerous. Thinking that I alone am burdened with worry, I feel my sorrow weigh upon me. Poor me, so cautious and careful, yet sick with anxiety. My parents brought me into the world—why must I suffer so? It was not before my time, nor after it, but this very age I had to meet. Good words come from the mouth, and bad words come from it too; my sorrow grows deeper and deeper…

Someone has abused me, leaving me full of worry, and thinks of me, this luckless man. The people are innocent, yet they and their servants suffer together. Pity these people: where can they turn to survive? Look where the crow has settled, and you cannot tell whose eaves might offer it shelter.

Look deep into the woods: firewood and kindling lie piled there. The people are now in danger. They look up to Heaven, yet Heaven’s intent seems dark and hard to discern. In the end, matters will be settled; no one can prevail forever. Whom does the Most High God truly hate? Some say a mountain may look low, yet rise into a lofty ridge. When the people’s rumors spread, is there no one to stop them?

Summon the old ministers and ask them to interpret the omens in their dreams. They all say, “I am the wisest.” But who can tell a male crow from a female one? Some say Heaven is high, yet people dare not fail to bow; Earth is broad, yet people dare not walk without care, on tiptoe. Who spoke these words? They make sense, and they stir the heart. Pity the people of today: why do they wound others like venomous snakes?

Look at the fields on the hillside: only one plant grows lush. Heaven has brought me low, as though it will not let me accomplish anything. Even when it has me, it is as if it did not; even when it has hold of its enemy, it will not make him truly exert himself. The worry in my heart is knotted tight. Why is the government so cruel now? The fire is blazing—can no one put it out? The illustrious Zhou royal house was destroyed by Bao Si.

My grief and worry never cease, and now days of rain have come. The cart is loaded with goods, but its side brace—the piece of wood supporting the body—has fallen away, and the goods have tumbled off. Please, elders, come and help me! Do not discard the brace; set the spokes in place, and keep looking back to check on the driver. Then the goods will not spill, and at last we can cross the obstacles. Who could have imagined things would come to this?

Fish in a pond are not necessarily happy just because they are there. Though they hide beneath the water, they are still easy to see. My heart aches with worry as I think of the state’s tyranny. Others have fine wine and delicious food; they are close with their neighbors and get along well with their in-laws. I alone am solitary, weighed down by grief. Their homes are grand and their lives comfortable; the people today have no good fortune, as though Heaven were laying waste to them. The rich may still manage, but pity the lonely and helpless.

The Hongdao lu comments: “Ban” and “Dang” speak of fearing Heaven’s warnings and reproof; this poem speaks of distress that no one takes to heart. “Sang Rou” speaks of a state’s fall and the rise of disorder; this poem speaks of Bao Si bringing down the state. King Li of Zhou was greedy and tyrannical, and King You of Zhou worsened the calamity through his licentious conduct. Thus the poet describes himself looking up to Heaven and down at Earth, as though there were nowhere he could find shelter.

This poem mentions Bao Si and also offended the taboos of the ministers, yet the court did not punish the poet for slander or seditious talk. Had there been no upheaval among the royal kin and no calamity of invasion by the Quanrong, what would have happened is hard to say. Alas, the spokes failed and the wheel broke, and in the end no one stopped it all. Heaven’s benevolent care for humanity ultimately did not...

Does it not grieve us to surpass others, yet be deluded by our own ignorance?

At the start of the tenth month, on the first day, Xinmao, a solar eclipse occurred. It was truly an ugly sight. The moon’s waning is commonplace; but when the sun is obscured, the people now suffer grievous hardship as well. The sun and moon display ominous signs, yet the king does not correct his conduct. Affairs in the four quarters are in disorder, and worthy people are not appointed to office. A lunar eclipse is usual enough, but why is a solar eclipse so inauspicious? Thunder and lightning flash; Heaven and Earth are unsettled. The great rivers boil, high mountains collapse, lofty banks become deep valleys, and deep valleys rise up into hills.

Why do people today take no warning from this? Huangfu serves as chief minister, Fan as Minister of Instruction, Jiabo as Grand Steward, Zhongyun as chief of the royal kitchen, Juzi as palace scribe, Jue as master of the royal horses, and Yu as director of the royal school. His favored wife stirs things up at his side, and Huangfu seizes the chance to wield his power as he pleases. Would he say that his conduct is out of keeping with the times? Why must he treat us this way without discussing it with us beforehand? He tears down our walls and houses, and leaves our fields fouled and abandoned, yet says, “I have done you no harm.” That is merely the language of ritual propriety.

Huangfu is arrogant and overbearing. He is building a city at Xiang, selecting three kinds of officials and seeking only those with wealth. He will not retain even one elder minister to assist the king; he chooses only men with carriages and horses and sends them to Xiang. We can only strive to do our work, not daring to complain of our hardship. Though guilty of no crime, we are slandered on every side. The people’s calamities do not fall from Heaven; backbiting, mutual hatred, and endless strife all have their roots in human beings. My homeland is beset by deep troubles; people throughout the four quarters have gained something, while I alone am distressed. Most people live at ease, while I alone dare not rest. Heaven’s decree is hard to change. I dare not imitate my friends and seek comfort for myself.

The Hongdao Lu comments: According to the Rites of Zhou, the Three Dukes advise on the way to govern the state, while the Six Ministers each oversee their own affairs; originally, there was no such office as “chancellor.” King You, however, established a chief office outside the Six Ministers to oversee their work. Was this not, in effect, a chancellor? Huangfu alone disrupted the old system, ultimately bringing on the calamity of a solar eclipse, and in a month of pure Yang at that. King You’s virtue was clouded and feeble: he let the people suffer calamity while continually undertaking private construction projects. His ministers formed factions and followed one another. How long could the state endure? Alas, in King Li’s time, the laws and punishments had not yet been cast aside; in King You’s time, he would not retain the elder ministers. Under King Li, the ruler kept the profits for himself; under King You, Huangfu and the others each amassed wealth and expanded their power. Both kings brought calamity upon themselves, yet the Zhou royal house met different ends under each.

After the Zhou royal house moved east, a great minister was sent on a journey. Passing by the old ancestral temples and palaces, he found that they had all become fields of grain…

The background to the poem “Millet and Panicled Millet”: After the Zhou court moved east, a high official passed through the old capital. He saw the ancestral temples and palace buildings in ruins, with millet and panicled millet growing everywhere. Grieving over the collapse of the ancestral temples and the altars of soil and grain, he wandered about, unable to bring himself to leave, and composed a poem:

“Those millet plants grow lush and thick;

the panicled millet has already sprouted.

I travel on, slowly and reluctantly,

my heart unsettled and wavering.

Those who understand me say my heart is full of sorrow;

those who do not ask what it is I seek.

Vast, distant Heaven, what sort of person brought this about?”

The commentary in Hongdao lu says: When Confucius spoke of the Spring and Autumn Annals, he once said, “Those who understand me, perhaps do so through the Spring and Autumn Annals; those who blame me, perhaps do so through the Spring and Autumn Annals.” How is this different from the lines in “Millet and Panicled Millet”: “Those who understand me say my heart is full of sorrow; those who do not ask what it is I seek”? The answer is: there is no difference.

The upheaval that accompanied King Ping’s eastward migration was no minor matter. For the Son of Heaven, it meant being murdered; for his subjects, suffering humiliation; for the altars of soil and grain, being laid waste; and for the ancestral temples, being destroyed. It was a catastrophe without precedent since the beginning of the world. Yet the people of that time paid it no heed. The ruler was content to serve his enemy, and the ministers were content to endure disgrace. Heaven and Earth had grown shut and blocked, yet no one knew to open them; people had lost their hearts, yet no one knew to awaken them.

Could that high official really have seen the millet growing lushly and merely been “seeking something”? In truth, he grieved over the abandonment of the royal Way and its ordinances, and feared that Heaven’s punishment would henceforth be put aside. That was why he wanted to go forward but could not make his feet move. Those who understood him knew that seeing the millet and panicled millet made him sigh, and seeing the palace and temples filled him with sorrow. Those who did not understand him thought that, as a mere high official, he was taking on the burden of the state’s survival, worrying excessively over the great affairs of the ancestral temples and altars, and trying to do what could not be done and achieve what could not be achieved. Hence they asked, “What is it I seek?”

Yet he could not forget this matter for even a moment, and so he cried out to Heaven with a long sigh. His lament was neither for any private aim of his own nor an overstepping of his proper role. When Confucius selected and revised the Book of Songs, he deeply understood this intention and spoke in the same way, to show that the Spring and Autumn Annals had to be written, just as the high official’s journey and sorrowful lament could not be stopped. The meaning at work here is indeed far-reaching.

Spring, first year of Duke Yin of Lu: the first month, according to the Zhou calendar.

The commentary says: The Spring and Autumn Annals arose after the elegant and refined music of the Book of Songs had fallen silent. Confucius composed the Spring and Autumn Annals to teach its great principles to the world for all generations. Where, then, were these principles first to be expressed? By then, the authority of the king had ceased to command respect. The feudal lords acted without restraint, and the king’s government and commands no longer reached throughout the realm. The lords therefore dated their records by their own reigns and no longer followed the calendar issued by the Son of Heaven; each state recorded events for itself and no longer upheld the principle that “the king has no territory beyond his rule”—that is, that the Son of Heaven governs all under Heaven, with no division between what lies within and beyond his realm. This was precisely why Confucius began the Spring and Autumn Annals with the words “the king’s first month”: to reaffirm the Son of Heaven’s legitimacy.

When was this? Shaozi (Shao Yong) said that the age when the Five Hegemons—the lords who successively held power during the Spring and Autumn period—ruled was like winter. In winter, the earth’s Qi does not rise and the sky’s Qi does not descend; Heaven and Earth are sealed off from one another. How, then, could anyone expect that age to return to spring?

Even the wise and discerning Zigong once wanted to dispense with the live sheep offered in sacrifice at the monthly announcement ritual. Confucius told him, “You care about the sheep; I care about the ritual.” The monthly announcement ritual was the ceremony in which, on the first day of each month, the ancient ruler made offerings to his ancestral temple and proclaimed that month’s ordinances. The “sacrificial sheep” was the live animal used in the rite.

Ritual keeps the Central Plains from becoming like the lands of the Yi and Di peoples, and distinguishes what makes human beings human from what makes animals animals. Why say this? The Yi and Di do not understand the duty to honor their ruler; animals do not understand spring. How could people willingly be inferior to them?

Legitimate succession comes first, and the kingly way follows; when the kingly way comes first, the Qi of spring’s renewal can arrive. The point here is to stress the vital importance of a unified political order. Violating this order demands severe punishment; usurping one’s proper status is an unforgivable crime. When the guiding moral relationships are properly upheld, the order of ranks and titles is honored; when the laws governing human relations are established, ritual and right conduct can be put into practice. The great duty between ruler and minister can then endure alongside Heaven and Earth, without being lost.

Hongdao lu, Section Six: Righteousness

The Duty Between Ruler and Minister

The Records of the Grand Historian says: When Liu Bang, King of Han, crossed south over the Pingyin Ford and arrived at Luoyang’s Xincheng, Dong Gong, an elder of the Three Elders, stopped him and offered this advice: “I have heard that those who follow virtue and righteousness prosper, while those who oppose them perish. If a campaign lacks a just cause, it will not succeed. So first make clear why the enemy is a traitor; only then will the people of the realm be convinced. Xiang Yu is without the Way. He drove his ruler into exile and killed him; he is the realm’s traitor. Benevolence and righteousness cannot rest on physical courage alone, and justice cannot depend on brute force. Your Majesty should lead the three armies in donning mourning garments for the Righteous Emperor, announce this to the lords, and then punish Xiang Yu.”

Liu Bang therefore held a funeral for the Righteous Emperor and announced to the lords: “The Righteous Emperor was jointly installed by the people of the realm, yet Xiang Yu has now driven him into exile and killed him. I have personally mourned him, and the whole army has donned white mourning garments. I have already levied troops in Guanzhong and assembled soldiers from the Three Rivers region. We are preparing to cross south over the Yangtze and Han rivers, and I hope to join the lords in punishing the Chu army that killed the Righteous Emperor.”

The Hongdao lu comments: “The Han dynasty held the realm for 420 years. Its grand principles and righteousness shone as brightly as the sun, moon, and stars. The key lay in Liu Bang’s action on this occasion. It is a pity that Dong Gong was not included when the meritorious officials were ranked later. As a result, the name Xincheng gradually faded from memory, until it became unknown even in our own day. This is truly regrettable.”

It also says: “It was inevitable that Emperor Zhaolie of Han, Liu Bei, would fail to unify the realm. A campaign without a just cause will not succeed; people must be convinced that the enemy is a traitor. This is a plan of lasting consequence and a matter of great importance to the realm. Xiang Yu and Cao Cao, in terms of their power and momentum…”

Not long after the events involving Liu Bang, Liu Bei found himself in a situation much like Liu Bang’s: neither man could match Cao Cao’s power. Liu Bang could denounce Xiang Yu as a bandit, but Liu Bei could not publicly proclaim Cao Cao’s crimes. Why was that?

A ruler and an empress hold equal importance in terms of status. When Cao Cao had Empress Fu killed, Liu Bei could have championed the cause of justice, sent a proclamation throughout the realm, announced that the empress was to be mourned and that he would observe mourning for her, and declared to all under Heaven that Cao Cao had committed an act of treason so heinous that it deserved an unforgivable punishment. He could then have raised an army to punish him. Had he done so, few would likely have refused to respond or would have remained loyal to the Cao clan. This was a path passed down from ancestors to descendants, yet no one thought to take it. Dong Cheng, by contrast, cited only “the secret edict in the emperor’s girdle,” claiming that he would join forces with Liu Bei to kill Cao Cao. Alas, could a so-called “secret edict” ever be the public grounds a ruler ought to invoke?

In this light, Dong Cheng of the Three Kingdoms period was clearly different from the Dong of Xincheng. Still, Dong Cheng does not deserve blame. At the time, even Fa Zheng, famed for his bold remonstrances, and Zhuge Liang, famed for his profound grasp of the larger picture, failed to recognize the significance of this opportunity. They merely voiced the charge that Cao Cao was “a traitor to the Han” in a memorial at San Pass, which did little to help. Only when Zhu Xi compiled the Comprehensive Mirror to Aid in Government: Outline and Digest (Zizhi tongjian gangmu) and explicitly recorded that Cao Cao had Empress Fu killed did this principle become clear. Is this not an enduring regret?

The Book of Han records that Emperor Gaozu of Han did not enjoy reading or writing, but was naturally intelligent and perceptive, fond of planning, and good at listening to advice. Even gatekeepers and border garrison soldiers, when they met him, felt as if they had known him for years. At first, he followed the people’s wishes and established the “Three Articles of Agreement.” After pacifying the realm, he ordered Xiao He to compile the laws, Han Xin to revise military regulations, Zhang Cang to establish institutions, and Shu Suntong to devise rituals. He then divided tally tokens with his meritorious officials and made an oath with them, inscribing it on an iron deed in vermilion and storing it in a golden coffer in a stone chamber, to be enshrined in the ancestral temple. Though he was occupied every day with no time to spare, his plans for governing the realm were broad and far-reaching.

The Hongdao lu comments: These plans were broad and far-reaching because they drew lessons from the successes and failures of the Qin and Xin dynasties. Simplicity and leniency accord with the Dao of Heaven. After the Qin rose to power, its prohibitions became so strict that they seemed to allow no room for error. After the Xin dynasty arose, it changed institutions so often that it seemed unable to keep up with its own efforts. By the time of the First Emperor of Qin, official documents were processed by weight and number; he worked each day until he had no time to sleep, believing that no affairs of the realm could possibly be overlooked. Yet he did not understand that the Dao of Heaven is not so petty and constrained.

The Dao of Heaven is vast. It accommodates what is minute and what is immense, what is high and what is low, yet never violates its own principles. A ruler should model his governance on the Dao of Heaven: what must be held firmly and what must be let go, what should be granted and what should be taken away—all must be provided for, without thereby violating what is constant…

The Qin dynasty abolished the system of enfeoffment and replaced it with a system of commanderies and counties; the Xin dynasty, in turn, restricted the princes’ ownership of land. They calculated every minor detail with great care, yet failed to see that the state had already begun to crumble like earth collapsing, and was on the verge of breaking apart piece by piece. Grand Historian Sima Qian, too, believed that only by taking the failings of the previous dynasty as a lesson and adapting to the times could people avoid growing weary. He was indeed skilled at observing the affairs of the world.

In the second year of Emperor Wen’s reign, the emperor issued an edict: “When a ruler’s Virtue is deficient, Heaven sends down unusual signs as a warning that his government is misguided. I have failed to govern and care for the people below, and have also dimmed the radiance of the sun, moon, and stars above. This is a grave failure of Virtue. I now command everyone to consider carefully my faults, including anything I have failed to notice or attend to. Speak freely and tell me what you think. At the same time, recommend worthy and upright people who dare to remonstrate with the strongest candor, so that they may correct my shortcomings.”

The Hongdao lu comments: “This was the beginning of the court’s call for ‘the strongest candor in remonstrance.’” Jia Shan then submitted a memorial entitled “Zhiyan” (“Words of Utmost Importance”). However, it is not included in this book. Jia Shan’s words were frank, but they did not reach the heart of the matter. He used the Qin dynasty as a comparison, hoping to make the emperor take the fall of the Shang dynasty as a warning. Yet he failed to see that Emperor Wen’s reverence for Heaven’s Mandate, diligence in government, care for the people, frugality, openness to frank counsel, respect for remonstrance, restraint from grand construction projects, and refusal of tribute were all expressions of the emperor’s true character. Soon after Emperor Wen took the throne, these qualities had already become broadly evident. The problems Jia Shan raised were not among the emperor’s failings.

Why did he have to keep stressing that a ruler’s power was like thunder and weighed ten thousand jun? And why say that the Zhou dynasty supported the people of “eighteen hundred states,” while the Qin dynasty had to bear the cost of support from “eighteen hundred states”? Court officials at the time had been influenced by the Qin habit of suppressing forbidden speech. When they suddenly encountered Jia Shan’s essay, they blindly praised it as “Words of Utmost Importance.”

In my view, Emperor Wen’s shortcoming was that he did not persevere in pursuing the highest good. He settled for modest aims and neglected the way of the sages. This was no small failing. The Analects says, “Only when you know where you should stop can you find your place.” Could a human being really be less wise than a bird? These words are profoundly important in guiding the world and generations to come.

Influenced by the teachings of Huang-Lao, a Daoist school that advocates tranquility and Wuwei (non-action), Emperor Wen valued stillness but did not understand that a noble person should do everything within their power. In this light, it is hardly surprising that he indulged in horseback riding and archery for pleasure, chasing rabbits and hunting solitary beasts. If he had found worthy ministers like Yi Yin, Fu Yue, Lü Shang, and the Duke of Shao, and sat with them to discuss the Dao, I believe he would have revered them like divine beings and trusted them as he would the result of a divination. If so, how could he have cultivated Virtue at home while allowing affairs of state to fall into disorder at court? The reason he acted this way was entirely because…

…These practices were not the way of the sages. Even so, those in high office sought worthy talent, while those below offered only men skilled in horsemanship and archery. Such men could not become deeply cultivated Confucians; how, then, could anyone expect them to understand the kingly way?

Jia Yi submitted a memorial, saying, “I privately believe that the present situation contains one matter grave enough to make us weep aloud, two that make us shed tears, and six that make us sigh for a long time. As for the other problems that defy reason and damage the Great Way, they are too numerous to list one by one. Those who offer advice all say that the realm is already stable and well governed. I alone believe this is not so. Those who say that the realm is peaceful and secure are either ignorant or flattering; they do not truly understand the roots of order and disorder. They place a firebrand beneath a pile of firewood, lie down on top of the wood, and, before the fire has even started, declare the place safe. How is the situation today any different?”

The Hongdao lu comments: During Emperor Wen’s reign, there were two worthy men surnamed Jia. Jia Yi of Luoyang was beyond comparison with Jia Shan of Yingchuan. His words not only struck at the heart of the problems of his time, but also showed how deeply the Qin dynasty’s past still affected the Han. For this reason, his memorial is recorded here in full. Yet governing the state requires observance of ritual propriety. Confucius himself once criticized someone for speaking without sufficient modesty. How much more inappropriate, then, to begin speaking at court by weeping aloud, shedding tears, and sighing at length, as though hoping to sway one’s listeners through emotional display. Such conduct was hardly fitting.

Jia Yi also said, “Establishing vassal states is bound to make ruler and subject suspicious of one another. The subjects repeatedly suffer calamity, while the ruler repeatedly lives in fear. This is no way to secure the ruler or protect the subjects. The best way to bring peace to the realm is to establish more vassal states while reducing the power of each one. When their power is limited, they can readily be restrained by the principles of right conduct; when their territories are small, they will not give rise to improper ambitions.

“Today, the subjects throughout the realm are like a body governed by its arms and arms governed by their fingers: all are under the court’s control. The rulers of the vassal states dare not harbor disloyal intentions. They come to court in a steady stream and submit to the Son of Heaven. The court can divide territories and establish new arrangements, dividing Qi, Zhao, and Chu into several smaller states, so that the vassals’ descendants receive fiefs in turn. If there are many fiefs but few descendants, the states can first be established and left temporarily vacant; when descendants are born, suitable heirs can then be appointed as their rulers. Even if the Son of Heaven grants away only an inch of land or a single subject, he seeks no personal gain from it. His purpose is truly to secure the political order.”

The Hongdao lu comments: The proposals of Chao Cuo and Zhu Fuyan in later years both drew on this idea. Emperor Jing of Han failed to handle the matter properly, and disorder followed; Emperor Wu of Han implemented it skillfully and achieved results. In truth, this too was an effect of Jia Yi’s proposal. During Emperor Wen’s reign, the conditions were already in place to put these measures into practice. Had the division of the vassal states begun…

The king of a great state has grown old, and the young ruler who will succeed him has not yet come of age. The chancellor appointed by the Han court has only just taken charge of government affairs. This is precisely the moment to quietly divide the power of the feudal states and gradually reclaim the authority of their rulers. The task should not require much effort. If the opportunity is missed, it will eventually take enormous effort and leave everyone scrambling to keep up. So, is weakening the power of the feudal lords really an idea that only a young and impractical person would come up with?

In general, the Han’s founding was accompanied by an unprecedentedly hurried distribution of fiefs to the feudal lords. The Rites of Zhou discusses the system of senior and junior lineages, and distinguishes between the ancestral temple and the temple of one’s father: the direct line of the clan is to inherit the throne for generations, collateral branches are to rule as feudal lords, and sons who establish separate households are to serve as high officials. Under this system of clan hierarchy, granting fiefs widely was only natural. How could it be that some people, though collateral kin of the ruler, became commoners, while others were rich enough to possess fifty or even seventy cities, and still others were so poor they had not even a patch of land to stand on? This violates not only the proper distribution of power, but also every reasonable expectation. The enlightened and filial Han Gaozu, who extended affection and generosity to many, failed to investigate the roots of this problem. Fortunately, someone later raised the matter, but could not finish setting out the proposal; then Marquis Jiang, Zhou Bo, and Guan Ying joined in opposing it. Looking at this, is it any wonder that scholars go unrecognized? Is it not a matter of fate?

Someone asked: The ruler cast aside ritual, righteousness, benevolence, and kindness, and devoted himself entirely to conquest. Only two years after this policy was put into practice, the Qin dynasty began to decline day by day. Thus, when a family is prosperous and its sons grow up, the sons leave and set up households of their own; when a family is poor and its sons grow up, the sons leave to marry into another family. If a son borrows his father’s hoe and cultivates the fields, the father feels the son owes him a favor. If a mother brings out a winnowing basket and broom, her son stands there and scolds her. A daughter-in-law holds a child and sits beside her father-in-law, both treating each other with insolence and disrespect. When a mother-in-law and daughter-in-law fall out, they talk back and quarrel. Parents may love their children, yet still pursue profit and disregard family bonds. Such people are scarcely different from animals, and few remain in the world.

Even now, the customs and habits left behind by the Qin have not changed. People cast aside ritual and righteousness and scorn a sense of honor and shame; the situation worsens by the day, changes month by month, and is different from year to year. Some now even murder their fathers or elder brothers, yet ministers treat as grave matters only the failure to review documents on time or to meet an agreed deadline. As for the decay of customs and the decline of the age, they have grown so accustomed to it that they find nothing strange, and think things are simply as they should be. Changing customs and habits, and turning the people’s hearts toward the right path, is beyond the ability of officials who can only manage routine affairs. Ordinary officials are busy with documents and accounts, but do not understand the larger picture. Your Majesty does not personally concern himself with this matter either, and I privately grieve for Your Majesty.

The Hongdao lu comments: This is exactly what I mean when I say that the Han is gravely ill, its sickness at the point of no return, and beyond all remedy.

Why did the ancients insist on distinguishing good from evil, commending good deeds in local communities, promoting virtue and punishing wrongdoing, spreading these examples to establish good customs, and marking out the boundaries of different districts so that people would know what to respect and admire? Did they take pleasure in such elaborate rules? In truth, the customs of the Shang had declined, and the harmful practices they left behind had not yet been eradicated. Even after the state had grown prosperous and its government stabilized, people could not forget the damage caused by failed moral instruction and a life of extravagance.

Thus it was said, “The security of the state depends on the scholars of Yin and Shang.” It was also said, “Arrogance, indulgence, and self-conceit often end in wrongdoing.” The Duke of Zhou took care in laying the foundations of moral instruction; Jun Chen brought that instruction to a harmonious and balanced form; and Bi Gong ensured that it reached a proper conclusion. These three worthies governed the region in succession. From this we can see how difficult it is to change customs and turn the people of the realm back toward the Dao.

When the Han dynasty arose, it first won the realm by force and later governed it through civil rule. Yet it continued the Qin practice of combining humane government with coercive rule, and every kind of abuse arose. Even worse, it became fixated on the teachings of Huang-Lao. How could this fail to grieve us? If rulers had the resolve of Kings Cheng and Kang, and sought a venerable minister of deep virtue and unwavering diligence to assist them as they sat with folded hands and awaited success, they would still labor day and night for fear of falling short. To regard such men as merely young and inexperienced is almost enough to make one heave a long sigh.

Guanzi said, “Ritual, righteousness, integrity, and a sense of shame are called the state’s four supports. If the four supports cannot be upheld, the state will perish.” If Guanzi had been a fool, that might have been the end of it. But since he understood something of the art of governing, how could this not give us cause for concern? When Qin fell, the four supports had not been upheld. The ruler and his ministers fell out, order and discipline collapsed, members of the royal family were killed, wicked men rose one after another, and the people scattered and turned against the state. After thirteen years, the country had become an empty shell.

Even now, the four supports are still incomplete. As a result, wicked men can still find openings, and people’s hearts remain uneasy and uncertain. Why not take this opportunity to establish sound institutions for the state, so that ruler and ministers each keep to their proper roles, rank and status are ordered, and fathers, sons, and other family members each fulfill what is proper to them? Then wicked men would have no opening, ministers and people could trust one another, the ruler would no longer be suspicious, and the people would no longer be confused. If the institutions are not established in time, it is like trying to cross a river without ropes or oars: when the boat reaches midstream and a storm rises, it is bound to capsize. This is truly cause for a long sigh.

The Hongdao lu says: This is the most urgent matter in governing the state, and the establishment of its various institutions must be considered with care. Guanzi is someone we Confucians are reluctant to praise, yet even he understood that ritual, righteousness, integrity, and a sense of shame are the state’s four supports. How can the disciples of the great sages, of all people, fail to understand the state…

Could this be the road to ruin? The wicked have always waited for opportunities to seek profit. Wherever power and profit lie, people flock like flies drawn by the smell of something rank, or ants gathering without being summoned. How much more so when the ruler openly recruits and relies on them? The world then falls into complete disorder, with no boundaries left; people lose all sense of shame and all abhorrence of evil. Human beings, the most intelligent of all creatures, become inferior even to mosquitoes.

A state can exist as a state because of its people; people can be human because of their hearts. In governing, the sages of antiquity valued lasting, unchanging ordinances and concise, well-framed instructions. Their aim was to make people’s hearts turn clearly toward the right path and follow a common standard. In this way, reason could prevail, government could be clear and orderly, its benefits could reach the people, and even the peoples of the four regions could share in them. Without a means to uphold and preserve order, people everywhere would be lost and unsure how to proceed. Private desires would run unchecked, the natural order would be extinguished, and the state would soon perish.

After the Western Han established its capital at Chang’an, its institutions were not firmly established, and in the end this brought about Wang Mang’s usurpation of the Han. Only then were Jia Yi’s arguments vindicated. In light of this, could Guan Zhong really have been a fool?

Ritual prevents wrongdoing before it occurs; law prohibits it after it has occurred. The effects of law are therefore easy to see, while those of ritual are harder to discern. Did the former kings deliberately refuse to use rewards to encourage good and punishments to curb evil? They valued ritual more because it cuts off evil thoughts before they arise, guiding people through instruction that begins with the smallest things. The people thus grow more virtuous day by day, without realizing that they are being guided.

When advising a ruler on the affairs of state, the best course is to decide carefully what to accept and what to reject. Once the standard for choosing is settled in the heart, signs of the state’s security or peril will appear outwardly. Shang Tang and King Wu of Zhou widely practiced virtue, and their regimes endured for centuries without being lost. The Qin ruler governed the realm for little more than ten years before the state suffered a great collapse. The reason was no other than this: Tang and King Wu chose carefully and clearly, while the Qin ruler failed to make a careful decision. The realm is a great vessel: set it in a secure place, and it remains stable; place it in danger, and it will overturn. Tang and King Wu set the realm within benevolence, righteousness, ritual, and music, while the Qin ruler placed it under laws and punishments. This is plain for all the world to see. Is it not clear proof?

The Record says: Mencius asked, “Is the man who makes arrows really less benevolent than the man who makes armor?”

What is meant by “some are afraid of harming the people, while others are eager to govern and afraid only that they may fail to harm them; healers and craftsmen are the same” is this: among those in power handling government affairs, some fear harming the people, while others rush to carry out policies and fear only that they may not harm them. Healers and craftsmen behave similarly. Therefore, the methods used to govern a country and carry out affairs must be chosen with care. The “method” here means the way of weighing alternatives and making choices.

Tang of Shang and King Wu of Zhou made benevolence, righteousness, ritual, and music the foundations of governing the realm. They feared harming the people. The King of Qin, by contrast, made laws, decrees, and punishments the foundations of government, fearing only that he might fail to punish and harm the people. If we examine their original intentions, could they really have differed in their innate goodness or evil? A slight deviation in what one does can lead to a result a thousand miles away. Those who govern must therefore carefully examine what they uphold.

A person’s likes and dislikes first take shape in the heart, and only then determine what they choose or reject. The sages can hold all things in their hearts without being ruled by selfishness, and respond to all things without being constrained by personal feelings, precisely because they do not let their likes and dislikes lead them. If what one favors is a partisan practice, everyone in the realm may rush to follow it; if what one condemns is a one-sided view, everyone may suddenly turn toward it. Emperors are not unaware that benevolence and righteousness, on the one hand, and laws and decrees, on the other, each have advantages and drawbacks. They are simply misled by other divergent paths and lack firm, unwavering convictions. Dong Zhongshu did not speak this way for lack of insight. If an emperor could truly set aside old practices and establish a different system, and if it were appropriate and reasonable, what would there be to worry about? Yet yielding is an outward action, while respect for elders is an attitude of the heart. If the heart is not intent on deliberately performing one action after another, one will see only oneself busily engaged in doing too much.

In the first year of Emperor Wu of Han’s reign (140 BCE), the court issued an edict calling for recommendations of worthy and upright men who dared to speak frankly and offer remonstrance. Emperor Wu personally posed questions about the ways of governing in ancient and modern times. Dong Zhongshu, a native of Guangchuan, replied:

When I consider the relationship between Heaven and humanity, I find its principles cause for serious reflection. Unless the age has fallen into extreme disorder, Heaven always seeks to support and preserve the realm. The key lies in people’s efforts: study diligently, and one’s knowledge and understanding will grow; diligently practice the right Way, and one’s De will increase day by day and one’s achievements will become greater. The “Way” is the path that leads to enlightened government; benevolence, righteousness, ritual, and music are all means of reaching that goal.

Thus, after sage kings have passed away, their descendants may remain secure for generations and their states endure for centuries. These are the effects of education through ritual and music. The Way of government in the Zhou dynasty declined under King You and King Li, not because the right principles of governance had disappeared, but because they refused to follow them. Under King Xuan of Zhou, the dynasty’s Way of government once again shone brightly: he remembered the virtue of the former kings, revived neglected affairs of state and repaired their failings, and brought the achievements of Kings Wen and Wu into prominence. This was the result of his constant efforts, morning and night, to do good.

The Hongdao lu comments: This is the content of Dong Zhongshu’s first response to the policy questions. The phrase “mianjiang” (“strive diligently”) refers to …

“‘Even those of ordinary ability can attain the subtle through focused effort.’ This speaks of people below the level of great worthies: if they apply themselves with care to the smallest details, they too can gradually attain understanding. Since the Han dynasty, few scholars have understood this. Dong Zhongshu, the Western Han classicist, once shut himself away behind a curtain to study, striving with all his might and devoting himself to the study of the Great Dao. His diligence brought him many accomplishments. Thus, when responding to policy questions at court, he would first put this learning to use in addressing matters of state. He was unlike some later scholars, who merely gathered up stale sayings from their predecessors and spoke of things with no bearing on practical governance.

The emperor of that time was exceptionally gifted, yet seemed hasty and cursory, intent on accomplishing great deeds that would surpass the ancients and outdo his contemporaries. Dong Zhongshu, by contrast, simply devoted himself to putting his own principles into practice. Would he really have been content merely to imitate the emperor? Moreover, Jia Yi and Dong Zhongshu served under rulers such as Emperor Wen and Emperor Wu of Han. Dong Zhongshu’s determined program was suited to a ruler who was moderate and restrained; Jia Yi’s broad and penetrating talents were suited to assisting a ruler of great ambition and vision. Sadly, Heaven did not arrange for them to meet the rulers best suited to them, and their ideas were never given the chance to flourish as they should have. So, a hundred generations later, people can only recite their words, recall their character, and discuss the times in which they lived—while regretting that they did not encounter the right rulers. Alas, how moving this is!

A ruler should first set his own heart straight, then bring the court into order; once the court is in order, he should bring the officials into order; once the officials are in order, he should guide the people to live rightly; and once the people are upright, he should bring the four quarters into order. When all the four quarters are in order, no one, near or far, will dare stray from the right path, and no wicked or treacherous influences will rise up to cause disorder. Then Yin-Yang will be in harmony, wind and rain will arrive in season, all things will flourish in peace, and the people will thrive and multiply. Blessings and auspicious signs will follow one after another, and the royal Way will at last be fulfilled.

Now Your Majesty is honored as Son of Heaven, possesses all under Heaven, occupies the position from which these aims can be achieved, holds the authority to achieve them, and has the means to do so. Your conduct is noble and your benevolence far-reaching; you are intelligent and perceptive, good-hearted and devoted to the people, and you cherish worthy men. One may say that you are a wise ruler. Yet Heaven and Earth have not responded in harmony, and auspicious signs have not appeared. Why is this? Because instruction has not been established, and the people have not been guided toward what is right.

The people chase profit as water flows downhill. Unless instruction is used to guide and restrain them, this tendency cannot be stopped. The ancient kings understood this well. Thus, whenever they faced south to govern the realm, they made instruction their foremost concern: they established the Grand Academy to teach the people in the capital, and set up local schools to spread instruction in the towns and villages. They nourished the people with benevolence, strengthened them with righteousness, and restrained them through ritual. As a result, punishments could be reduced and prohibitions need not be numerous, because instruction had taken root and social customs had become gentle and refined.

The Hongdao lu comments: ‘After the Qin dynasty, the study of the mind and nature had almost entirely disappeared. Dong Zhongshu brought these principles forward; they truly served as a guide for the Han court. Sadly, the ruler had too many desires, and the ministers…’”

Making the rectification of the heart the foundation of governance is like pointing a carriage pole north while trying to see what lies south of the carriage: the direction is fundamentally wrong. Yet people have failed to reflect on this. In the Longxing era of Emperor Xiaozong of Song, Taizu (here, the founding emperor of Song) finally understood the principle. He said:

“Since ancient times, few rulers have been able to rectify their hearts and truly bring themselves to a state free of fault. Day and night I remain vigilant, guarding against mistakes and restraining my desires, in the hope of influencing the people through virtue. This is the right way. Only with such a person can one speak of rectifying the heart and rectifying the court. Under the Song dynasty, Yin-Yang was in harmony, rain and wind came in season, the people lived peacefully, and all things flourished. Could Dong Zhongshu’s words really have failed to come true?”

I have heard that enlightened kings govern the realm by using ranks and stipends to nurture people’s virtue and punishments to deter wrongdoing. Thus the people understand ritual and righteousness, and feel ashamed to offend their ruler. King Wu of Zhou upheld righteousness and subdued violent rebels; the Duke of Zhou established ritual and music, bringing refinement and order to society. During the flourishing reigns of Kings Cheng and Kang, the prisons stood empty for more than forty years. This, too, was the result of moral instruction gradually taking effect and benevolence and righteousness spreading widely.

Now Your Majesty possesses the realm, yet your achievements and virtue have not benefited the people. Perhaps the ruler’s benevolent heart has not truly been put into practice. Zengzi said, “Revering what one has heard brings greater understanding; practicing what one knows makes one’s virtue and work flourish.” Greater understanding and flourishing virtue depend on nothing else: they come from putting what one has heard and knows into practice. May Your Majesty be sincere within and put this into action. Then how would you differ from the sage kings of the Xia, Shang, and Zhou dynasties?

The Hongdao lu comments: These are two memorials by Dong Zhongshu. The ruler was of exalted status, yet asked about this matter again and again, showing how seriously he regarded it. Dong Zhongshu did not change his position. He continued to urge the ruler to revere what he had heard and practice what he knew. How could this be compared with confusing black and white or failing to distinguish fragrant from foul? From this, we can glimpse the depth of his purpose. He was unlike men such as Du Qin and Gu Yong, who relied on their own private opinions, let opportunities slip by, and resorted to deceptive words. If the principle could be made clear in a single statement, why wait until the ruler had asked repeatedly before changing what one said?

The Dao endures through time and does not decline. What is called decline comes from departing from the Dao. The Xia esteemed loyalty and sincerity, the Shang plainness, and the Zhou refinement; each dynasty did so because, in succeeding the failings of the preceding age, it needed corresponding measures to remedy them. The source of the Great Dao lies in Heaven. Heaven does not change, and neither does the Dao. Thus Yu succeeded Shun, and Shun succeeded Yao: the three sage kings passed down and upheld the same Great Dao. They did not alter their government to remedy failings, so the classics record no specific changes they made.

From this we can see that when succeeding an age of peace, the way of governing remains the same; when succeeding an age of turmoil, the way of governing should change. The Han dynasty followed an era of great disorder, and therefore should seemingly have made appropriate reductions to the institutions of the Zhou dynasty…

The Wen and Jing emperors adopted the political and religious institutions of the Xia dynasty and upheld loyalty and sincerity. The “Great Unification” described in the Spring and Autumn Annals is an enduring law between Heaven and Earth and a principle that links antiquity with the present. Today, teachers propound different doctrines, people hold different views, and the various schools of thought pursue different aims and make different claims. As a result, the emperor cannot maintain a unified standard. I believe that any teaching outside the Six Arts—the Confucian traditions of ritual, music, archery, charioteering, writing, and mathematics—and outside the Way of Confucius should be cut off and not promoted alongside Confucian learning. Only then can the guiding principles be unified, the laws and standards made clear, and the people know what to follow.

The Hongdao lu comments: These are three distinct positions. Dong Zhongshu set out the way of governing handed down from Yao and Shun through the Three Dynasties of Xia, Shang, and Zhou. What Emperor Wu of Han favored, however, was a doctrine of political expediency, profit, and literary display. And when the chancellor submitted his request to dismiss the other schools, the position he advanced belonged to the tradition of Shang Yang, Han Fei, Su Qin, and Zhang Yi. These three positions are not merely unrelated to one another; they are worlds apart. If one intends to reject the Hundred Schools and honor Confucius, why not adopt Dong Zhongshu’s approach? Strive to study and put into practice what one knows, and the harms of heterodox teachings will gradually recede while the results of lofty and upright principles gradually emerge.

Yet the emperor turned away from genuine Confucians and instead kept Zhuang Zhu, Sima Xiangru, Dongfang Shuo, Mei Gao, and others in his service. How can this be called honoring one school and suppressing another? From this, we can see what the emperor meant by “Confucian.”

At the time, the emperor was summoning Confucian scholars to the Imperial Academy and often spoke of what he wanted to do. Ji An was arrogant and informal; he openly contradicted others and could not tolerate their faults. He replied to the emperor, “Your Majesty has many desires in your heart, yet outwardly practices benevolence and righteousness. How can you expect to emulate the reigns of Yao and Shun?” The emperor fell silent, his expression changed, and he soon withdrew from court. He said to those around him, “Ji An is far too rash!” The high ministers and officials of the time all worried for Ji An; some repeatedly warned him. Ji An said, “Does the Son of Heaven appoint high ministers and counselors to conceal the truth and comply with his wishes, thereby leading the ruler into unrighteousness? Once one holds such a position, even if one cherishes one’s own safety, how can one disregard the humiliation of the court?”

The Hongdao lu comments: Emperor Wu of Han could tolerate Ji An but not Yan Yi because concerns of fame and profit outweighed what was right. Can praising Yao and Shun and admiring the good government of the Shang and Zhou make someone change through frank remonstrance alone? The emperor did not truly admire those reigns, but had no choice but to invoke them as a public pretext. As for someone who indulges in extravagant desires, can mutual remonstrance make him restrain himself? Without imposing punishment and establishing authority, it cannot be done. For this reason, although the emperor understood that he had many desires, he…

The “sharp retort” did indeed harm the conduct of government. This may explain why some people were executed while others were spared.

In the fourth year of the Zhenghe era, Emperor Wu of Han issued an edict expressing deep regret for his past mistakes: “Someone has submitted a proposal to establish military agricultural colonies at distant Luntai and build military installations such as watchtowers and beacon tunnels. This would exhaust the people throughout the realm; it is no way to bring them peace. I cannot bear to hear such a proposal. From now on, our chief priorities should be to forbid harsh tyranny and stop the unauthorized levying of taxes, encourage agricultural production, put the administration of horses in order, and restore the relevant laws to make up for what is lacking. It is enough if our military preparations are not neglected.” From then on, Emperor Wu no longer sent out armies. He also enfeoffed Tian Qianqiu as Marquis of Enriching the People, to show his intention to let the people recover and prosper.

The Hongdao lu comments: “Was the Edict of Self-Reproach at Luntai the same as the Edict of Self-Reproach at Feng Tian?” The answer is: “They were not the same. Emperor Wu’s remorse came from within. As the saying goes, when a bird is about to die, its call is mournful; when a person is about to die, their words become kind. His edict thus washed away the accumulated grime of the past and opened the way to a renewed era of good government. Tang Dezong’s change of heart, by contrast, depended on the counsel of Lu Zhi, a Tang official. It is said, ‘The virtue of the noble person is like the wind; the virtue of the petty person is like grass. When the wind passes over the grass, it must bend.’ Thus Dezong too was able to quell the rebellion, turn disorder into order, and transform danger into security. Since ancient times, nothing has worked more swiftly than words that move people and sounds that touch their hearts. Indeed, the changes of wind, clouds, frost, and dew are hard to predict; even when the sun and moon are eclipsed, their brilliance cannot be entirely obscured. How could rulers of later generations ignore these lessons?”

Emperor Xuan of Han had grown up among ordinary people and understood the hardships of their lives. After Huo Guang’s death, he began to handle state affairs himself and governed diligently, holding court every five days. Officials from the chancellor downward each carried out their duties and submitted reports on government affairs, setting out their views in detail. Emperor Xuan assessed their performance and abilities. Attendants to the Emperor, Secretaries, and other officials who had earned promotion or achieved particularly good results received generous rewards. These rewards were never withdrawn, even when they extended to their descendants. The court’s decisions were discreet and thorough, its institutions complete, and relations between those above and below were harmonious. No one approached their duties with a careless, merely perfunctory attitude.

The Hongdao lu comments: “The Shang dynasty produced six or seven wise and worthy rulers in succession because, in their youth, they had gained experience outside the court and learned of the people’s hardships. The rulers of Zhou were able to carry on their predecessors’ work so well because they understood the importance of not seeking comfort and ease. It is human nature that, unless people see what they desire, they will not pursue what they like; unless they see what they find loathsome, they will not avoid what they hate. Emperor Xuan of Han was exceptionally gifted and loved learning, but if he had not grown up among ordinary people, how could he have understood the hardships of the people and the successes and failures of government? How could he have brought about a revival and matched the virtue of the wise rulers of Shang and Zhou?”

This does not simply mean that people are tempered by adversity and ultimately achieve success; it also reveals more clearly the purpose behind Heaven’s will.

At the time, Bing Ji and Wei Xiang served together as chancellors. Wei Xiang liked to consult old precedents and gather records of the successes and failures of government policy since the founding of the Han dynasty, as well as proposals made by worthy ministers such as Jia Yi, Chao Cuo, and Dong Zhongshu that had been approved and put into practice. He had his clerks investigate affairs in the commanderies and kingdoms. When the clerks returned to the government office after leave, Wei Xiang would always hear what they had learned in different regions. If he heard of a rebellion, a storm or flood, or some other unusual event, he would report it to the court first, even if the commandery or kingdom had not yet submitted a report.

Wei Xiang and Bing Ji worked in harmony to assist the court. Bing Ji was generous and even-tempered, valued courtesy and deference, and did not personally handle trivial matters. People of the time believed he had a deep understanding of the essentials of governing. They said: “When Gaozu founded the dynasty, Xiao He and Cao Shen were the foremost ministers. When Emperor Xuandi restored the Han, Bing Ji and Wei Xiang became renowned. No chancellor in later generations could match them.”

The Lu says: After Xiao He and Cao Shen, most of the Han chancellors appointed were former meritorious officials or military men skilled in war. They were unfamiliar with literature and did not discuss the Book of Odes or the Documents. Later, people such as Gongsun Hong went to the opposite extreme: their learning was narrow, and they knew only how to cater to popular tastes. Wei Xiang alone entered office with an outstanding result in the examination for worthy and good candidates. Known for his uprightness and resolve, he also happened to serve during the reign of Emperor Xuandi. He was therefore able to petition for the abolition of the system of attaching duplicate copies to memorials, dissuade the emperor from launching military campaigns, and reclaim the power held by the Huo clan, curbing its excessive influence. Had Jia Yi, Dong Zhongshu, and the others encountered such an opportunity, would they have failed the Han? Sadly, they did not live to see their proposals later put into effect. A gentleman often worries that his proposals may not be adopted; he does not worry that no one of like virtue will understand him. Beyond the renown of Bing Ji and Wei Xiang, the aspirations of Jia Yi and Dong Zhongshu were thereby brought to light as well.

The emperor considered the Xiongnu and other frontier peoples to have submitted. Reflecting on the outstanding service of those who had assisted the court, he ordered their portraits painted in the Qilin Pavilion, with their offices, titles, and names inscribed. Huo Guang was the only one whose full name was omitted; the inscription read only: “Grand Marshal, General-in-Chief, Marquis of Boling, of the Huo clan.” The others, in order, were Zhang Anshi, Han Zeng, Zhao Chongguo, Wei Xiang, Bing Ji, Du Yannian, Liu De, Liangqiu He, Xiao Wangzhi, and Su Wu, making eleven in all. All were renowned in their time for their achievements and virtue. The court honored them with portraits to celebrate the ministers who assisted in the Han restoration, likening them to the ancient worthy ministers Fang Shu, Shaohu, and Zhongshan Fu.

The Lu says: The order of the portraits in the Qilin Pavilion probably placed the merit of securing the emperor’s accession first. As for the purpose of painting the portraits, it was that the peoples of the four quarters had submitted, and the emperor was thereby reminded of the achievements of these ministers who had assisted him… The original text ends here, unfinished.

The value of this story was never in comparing Su Wu’s moral integrity with anyone else’s. If the aim is to boast that China was rich in talent, then Emperor Wu of Han had once gone to great lengths, constantly seeking fine horses that could not be tamed and people of exceptional ability. His plans for sending envoys to distant foreign lands were also thoroughly considered. Yet Li Ling, Wei Lü, and others one after another surrendered to the Xiongnu. After searching everywhere and waiting nineteen years, only one man, Su Wu, courtesy name Ziqing, had still not abandoned his principles. This is enough to make one lament the decline of talent in China. Had Su Wu been born in the reign of Emperor Shizong—Emperor Wu of Han—he would surely have been appointed to high office outside the usual rules. Sadly, by the time he returned to Han, the news carried by the white goose had arrived too late, and his youthful hair had long since turned white. Su Wu was unlucky in his time; this was no success of Han policy. And besides, Chanyu Huhanye was then in dire straits. Most of what candidates for official examinations say when discussing the meaning of the classics is not speech that comes from having heard the Dao, and cannot be taken as instruction.

When Emperor Cheng of Han was still Crown Prince, he enjoyed drinking and often sought pleasure at banquets. When the Prince of Zhongshan, posthumously known as Ai, died, the Crown Prince went to offer condolences but showed no grief. Emperor Yuan of Han was furious. The Commandant of the Imperial Carriage, Shi Dan, removed his official cap and apologized to Emperor Yuan; only then did the emperor’s anger subside. Later, when Emperor Yuan was gravely ill, he repeatedly asked the Secretariat about the precedent of Emperor Jing’s decision to make the Prince of Jiaodong crown prince. Shi Dan was a trusted minister close to Emperor Yuan and was able to attend him at his sickbed. One day, while the emperor was resting alone, Shi Dan went straight into the bedchamber, knocked his head against the floor, and prostrated himself on a green rush mat. Weeping, he said, “The Crown Prince was made heir because he is the eldest son born to the empress. He has held this title for more than ten years, and the people have long known his place in the succession; the hearts of all under Heaven are with him. Recently, ministers have been spreading rumors along the roads that the Crown Prince may be deposed. If that were to happen, the ministers, from the highest officials down, would surely resist to the death and refuse to obey the decree. I ask to be put to death first, so the assembled ministers may see what happens.” Moved by these words, Emperor Yuan came to his senses and said to Shi Dan, “My illness is growing worse, and I fear I will soon be unable to manage affairs myself. Guide the Crown Prince well, and do not go against my wishes.” Shi Dan rose, sobbing. From then on, the Crown Prince’s position was secure.

During the Yuanyan reign period of Emperor Cheng of Han, Zhu Yun, formerly magistrate of Huaili County, submitted a memorial requesting an audience. With the high ministers gathered before the throne, Zhu Yun said, “The ministers of the court now occupy their posts without doing their work and take their salaries for nothing. I ask the emperor to grant me the Imperial Sword for Beheading Horses, so that I may cut off the head of one treacherous minister and warn the rest.” The emperor asked whom he meant. Zhu Yun replied, “Marquis Zhang Yu of Anchang.” The emperor flew into a rage and said, “A low-ranking official dares to slander his superior and publicly disgrace his teacher. His crime is unforgivable!” The imperial censor stepped forward to drag Zhu Yun away, but Zhu Yun clung to the balustrade before the hall, breaking it. He shouted, “If, after I die, I can go below and roam with Long Feng and Bi Gan, that will be enough for me!”

That was enough. The Censor then took Yun—Zhu Yun—away. At that moment, the Left General Xin Qingji removed his official cap, knelt below the palace steps, and said, “Zhu Yun has always been known for his unruly candor. If what he said was right, he should not be killed; if it was wrong, he should still be forgiven.” Only then did the emperor’s anger subside. Later, when the emperor planned to repair the railing, someone asked whether it should be replaced. The emperor said, “Do not replace it. Repair it, and use it to honor an upright minister.”

The Hongdao lu comments: Shi Dan’s remonstrance on the green rush mat and Zhu Yun’s breaking of the railing were both praised in their time, but this alone does not tell us which of them acted more appropriately. The troubles of the Han began when the Wang clan usurped power in Emperor Cheng’s reign, and grew worse under Zhang Yu. Had Shi Dan not remonstrated, the indecisive Emperor Cheng might have brought about an even greater calamity; it is uncertain whether the Han would have survived. Had Emperor Cheng truly followed Zhu Yun’s advice and beheaded the sycophantic minister, it is uncertain whether the Wang clan could have become what it did. It is regrettable that although Shi Dan succeeded in remonstrating and Zhu Yun broke the railing, their actions showed resolve but may not have reflected an understanding of how to weigh circumstances and adapt. Once Shi Dan’s advice was accepted, no one pursued the underlying principles further; although Zhu Yun’s words received a response, they did not prompt the court to correct its abuses. This is why the two events differed in their gains and losses.

The Book of the Later Han records that Deng Yu, a native of Nanyang, followed Emperor Guangwu, Liu Xiu, to Ye, carrying a horsewhip in his hand. Emperor Guangwu said, “I can now appoint nobles and officials as I see fit. You have come from far away—do you hope to gain office?” Deng Yu replied, “I do not seek office. I only hope that Your Excellency’s virtue and authority will spread throughout the world, and that I may contribute what I can and leave my name in the historical record.” The emperor laughed and invited him to stay.

Deng Yu then offered this counsel: “Shandong is still unsettled. Rebel forces such as the Red Eyebrows and the Green Bulls number in the tens of thousands. Emperor Gengshi is merely mediocre and refuses to make decisions himself. His generals are mediocre as well. They rose to prominence through opportunistic uprisings, care only for wealth, and compete to use force for their own immediate gratification. They are not loyal and discerning men capable of far-sighted plans, nor do they truly seek to honor their ruler and bring peace to the people. Your Excellency has long been known for outstanding virtue and remarkable achievements, and enjoys the support of people throughout the realm. Your army is disciplined, and its rewards and punishments are fair and reliable. The best course now is to welcome heroes from every quarter, do everything possible to reassure the people, build a great enterprise, and save the lives of the multitudes. With Your Excellency’s reputation and strength, pacifying the realm will not be difficult.” Emperor Guangwu was delighted.

The Hongdao lu comments: Who would not want to leave a name in the historical record? Yet in a great drought, even a divine dragon may be trapped where the waters have dried up; if hunting nets are not removed, even an auspicious qilin may meet disaster. Had Liu Xiu not risen in arms, Nanyang would have been little more than a wasteland of weeds. How, then, could Deng Yu have put his abilities to use? Consider Deng Yu’s age: he was barely past twenty, yet already able to see clearly the state of affairs…

Da Ji (here referring to Feng Yi) devoted himself to achieving the kind of distinction won by Han Gaozu and saving the people’s lives. Few could compare with him. When he and Emperor Guangwu discussed the greater or lesser depths of virtue, their minds met and they grasped the truth that “the benevolent have no enemies.” So when Geng Sheng came from afar, could his real purpose have been to secure an official post? He wanted to strengthen his conviction that, just as clouds follow when a dragon rises, auspicious signs appear when a qilin is seen. Was it not only right that Geng Sheng should become one of the founding heroes?

When the Red Eyebrows rebelled, powerful local families across the commanderies and counties of the Three Fu (the areas around Jingzhao, Zuopingyi, and Youfufeng) gathered troops to defend themselves. Emperor Guangwu therefore sent the deputy general Feng Yi to subdue them. The emperor personally escorted Feng Yi as far as Henan and instructed him: “The Three Fu suffered the upheavals of Wang Mang’s time and the Gengshi Emperor’s reign, and then endured the Red Eyebrows’ brutal depredations. The people are in dire distress, with nowhere to turn for help. You are now under orders to put down the rebels. Send the leaders of any camps that surrender to the capital. Disperse the ordinary people and let them return to farming and sericulture. Tear down their fortifications so they cannot gather again. A campaign does not have to seize territory or slaughter cities. Its purpose is to restore order and let the people live in peace. The generals are not incapable of fighting; they simply enjoy winning credit and plundering the countryside. Those who can already keep their troops in check should discipline themselves and make sure the commanderies and counties are not harmed.”

Feng Yi bowed and accepted the order, then led his troops west. Wherever he went, he exercised his authority with generosity, and many bandits surrendered.

The Records comments: When Emperor Guangwu instructed Feng Yi, he was not as severe as he had been when rebuking Deng Yu. His sole concern was to restore order and settle the people. This shows that he cared for them as parents care for their children. It is never easy to use benevolence and righteousness to oppose brutality. Feng Yi and Deng Yu worked together in purpose, while Deng Yu was also able to adapt to changing circumstances. Each of them likely corrected excesses at the right time, without straying from the proper course, and this deserves a ruler’s praise. The Northern Song brought calamity upon itself by employing Wang Anshi, Tong Guan, Cai Jing, and Cai Bian. Yet during the Southern Song’s revival under Emperor Gaozong, he appointed Huang Qianshan, Wang Boyan, and Qin Hui, apparently without seeing anything wrong. It was like birds already bringing ominous signs: the situation was truly beyond rescue. At that point, there was little reason for further blame.

In the third year of the Yongping era under Emperor Ming, the emperor recalled the heroes who had helped restore the dynasty and ordered portraits of all twenty-eight generals to be painted in the Yuntai Pavilion of the Southern Palace. Deng Yu was placed first, followed in order by Ma Cheng, Wu Han, Wang Liang, Jia Fu, Chen Jun, Geng Yan, Du Mao, Kou Xun, Fu Jun, Cen Peng, Jian Tan, Feng Yi, Wang Ba, Zhu You, Ren Guang, Ji Zun, Li Zhong, Jing Dan, Wan Xiu, Gai Yan, Pi Tong, Yao Qi, Liu Zhi, Geng Chun, Zang Gong, Ma Wu, and Liu Long.

Thirty-two men were selected, including Wang Chang, Li Tong, Dou Rong, and Zhuo Mao. The relatives of the imperial consort’s household—the empress and her kin—were not among them.

The Record of Exalting the Dao says: In my view, the generals at the Cloud Terrace seem to have been no match in strategy or bearing for the meritorious officials who founded the Western Han. Yet how did they achieve such extraordinary distinction? Perhaps it was because Emperor Gao was skilled at leading generals, while Emperor Guangwu was skilled at directing armies. Those who are broad-minded and able to oversee the whole picture excel at leading generals; those who are perceptive, intelligent, brave, and strategic are the foundation of directing armies.

Thus, Emperor Gao might not have understood the tactic of forming ranks with a river at one’s back, while Emperor Guangwu won through the Battle of Kunyang. The strategy of planning with chopsticks would have been hard to decide without Zhang Liang, whereas Emperor Guangwu could grasp at a glance the tactic of using rice grains to map terrain and work out military plans. Had Emperor Gao encountered Kou Xun and Deng Yu, he might not have established his achievements so swiftly in his later years; had Emperor Guangwu commanded Han Xin and Peng Yue, he might not have won a victory like the Battle of Gaixia. The generals of the two Han dynasties each encountered different times and rulers. Though their paths to success differed, they all ultimately achieved distinction.

Record of Exalting the Dao, “Righteousness: The Righteousness Between Ruler and Minister”

Zhuge Liang’s “Memorial on Sending Out the Troops” says:

The late emperor, Liu Bei, had not completed the founding of his enterprise when he died midway. Now the realm is divided among three kingdoms, and Yi Province is exhausted and weakened. This is truly a moment when the state faces peril and may either survive or perish. Yet the ministers and guards within the palace remain tireless, while loyal and resolute soldiers outside it risk their lives. They do so because they remember the late emperor’s kindness in recognizing their worth and wish to repay Your Majesty.

Your Majesty should indeed listen widely to advice, so as to carry forward the virtues the late emperor left behind and inspire those with resolve. You should not belittle yourself without cause or speak in ways that violate reason, thereby closing off the path for your ministers to offer loyal remonstrance.

The palace and the prime minister’s office, the government offices that handle state affairs, form a single whole. Promotion and demotion, punishment and reward, praise and censure should not follow different standards. If anyone breaks the law and does evil, or acts loyally and does good, the matter should be referred to the officials in charge for deliberation and a decision on punishment or reward. In this way, Your Majesty’s just and clear governance will be made manifest. There should be no favoritism or private dealings that cause different laws to be applied inside and outside the palace.

The attendants-in-waiting Guo Youzhi, Fei Yi, Dong Yun, and the others are kind and honest, with loyal and upright intentions and judgment. The late emperor selected them and left them for Your Majesty. I believe that if all palace affairs are discussed with them, they will surely make up for what is lacking, remedy oversights, and bring further benefit.

General Xiang Chong is good and fair in character and well versed in military affairs. The late emperor praised his ability, and after discussion, the people recommended him as commander-in-chief. I believe that if all matters in the military camps are discussed with him…

When those above and below in the army are in harmony, each person’s abilities are put to proper use, worthy ministers are brought close, and petty men are kept at a distance, the result is the prosperity of the Western Han. Bringing petty men close and keeping worthy men at a distance was the cause of the Eastern Han’s decline.

I was originally a commoner, and worked the fields in Nanyang myself. I only wished to preserve my life amid the chaos of the age; I did not seek fame or advancement among the warlords. The late emperor did not look down on me because of my humble status and limited understanding. Instead, he lowered himself and visited my thatched hut three times, asking my counsel on the affairs of the day. Deeply moved, I agreed to serve the late emperor and work on his behalf. Later, when the state was on the verge of collapse, I accepted my appointment after the army’s defeat and carried out my orders amid danger and hardship. Twenty-one years have passed since then.

The late emperor knew that I was cautious, so as he neared death he entrusted the affairs of state to me. Since accepting that trust, I have labored with anxious diligence day and night, fearing that I might fail to fulfill it and thereby damage the late emperor’s good name. That is why I crossed the Lu River in the fifth month and ventured deep into remote territory. Now the south has been pacified, and the army is fully equipped. We should encourage and lead the whole army north to campaign and pacify the Central Plain. This is my duty: to repay the late emperor and serve Your Majesty loyally. As for weighing the merits and faults of government, offering loyal counsel, and speaking out with all one’s strength, that is the responsibility of Guo Youzhi, Fei Yi, Dong Yun, and the others.

I hope Your Majesty will entrust me with completing the campaign against the enemy and restoring the Han house. If I fail, let me be punished for my crime. Your Majesty, too, should plan for yourself, seek sound policies for governing the state, listen to and accept upright counsel, and deeply remember the late emperor’s final decree. I am about to set out on a distant journey. Facing this memorial, my tears stream down, and I hardly know what to say.

The Hongdao lu comments: How could one make light of Zhuge Liang’s loyalty and steadfastness? If he could serve as an assistant, he should have done so to the very end; if he could not, he should have decided for himself whether to stay or leave. This was the charge entrusted to him by Emperor Zhaolie on his deathbed, and Zhuge Liang could not help but give his life amid the circumstances of that time. He remembered the late emperor’s exceptional kindness toward him and wished to repay Your Majesty: this was the outstanding insight of Marquis Wu. He resolutely took up this responsibility in the name of righteousness.

Dong Zhuo, Yuan Shao, Cao Cao, and figures of the Sima clan appeared one after another. Yet in his two memorials Zhuge Liang vowed to remain loyal, like the auspicious star standing firm amid the crisscrossing appearance of ominous stars and comets; like the sun and moon shining brilliantly even as stubborn darkness, licentiousness, and cruelty arose. When he says, “The palace and the offices of the government should form a single whole,” he is not merely urging them to speak to one another as members of a family: this bears on the survival or demise of the Later Lord. When he says, “Bring worthy ministers close and keep petty men at a distance,” he is not merely reminding the Later Lord to take warning from recent history; he also points to the root of order and disorder, flourishing and decline, for all ages. As for “Your Majesty, too, should plan for yourself…” [the original text ends here]

By seeking counsel on sound principles of statecraft, examining upright words and adopting them, Zhuge Liang pursued plans whose hopes extended beyond what could be achieved in his lifetime. They concerned the fate of the Han dynasty’s foundations after his death as well. For this reason, Kongming (Zhuge Liang) was a figure of the stature of the sages of the Three Dynasties; Guan Zhong and Yue Yi could not be compared with him.

The “Memorial on the Later Campaign” says:

“Our late emperor (Liu Bei), far-sighted and deeply thoughtful, believed that the Han dynasty could not coexist with the rebel forces, and that the Han imperial enterprise could not find security in a corner of the realm. He therefore entrusted me with the grave responsibility of attacking the rebels. Given the late emperor’s wisdom, he surely understood that my ability to defeat the rebels was limited and that the enemy was strong. Yet if we did not attack, the Han imperial enterprise would perish. Rather than sit and await death, why not send out troops to fight? That is why the late emperor entrusted me with this responsibility without hesitation.

“From the day I accepted the appointment, I could not sleep soundly or eat in peace. It was not that I did not value my own life; I simply knew that the Han imperial enterprise could not remain confined to Shu. So I braved danger and hardship to carry out the late emperor’s wishes. Yet now those who debate these matters say this is not a sound strategy.

“The enemy has just been worn down in the west and is now occupied with affairs in the east. The art of war says to attack when the enemy is exhausted. This is the moment to advance. The wisdom of Emperor Gaozu of Han shone like the sun and moon, and his advisers were far-sighted in their calculations. Even so, it was only after enduring peril, injury, and danger that he was able to pacify the realm. His Majesty’s strategic judgment does not yet match Gaozu’s, and his advisers are no match for Zhang Liang and Chen Ping. Yet you hope to win through long-term planning, sitting at ease while bringing the realm to peace. This I cannot understand.

“It has not yet been a year since I came to Hanzhong. Zhao Yun, Yang Qun, and the others have died. They were elite soldiers gathered from across the realm over several decades, not the kind of men any single province could provide. If a few more years pass, what will we have left to oppose the enemy? The people are suffering and the army is exhausted, yet the war cannot be stopped. Since it cannot be stopped, the labor and supplies consumed by defending our positions are much the same as those required for a campaign. Rather than wait in vain, should we not consider sending out troops?

“The course of events is hard to predict. In the past, when our late emperor was defeated in Chu, Cao Cao clapped his hands in triumph, believing the realm was already pacified. Later, our late emperor allied with Wu and Yue in the east, seized Ba and Shu in the west, and sent troops north; Xiahou Yuan was killed. Cao Cao had misjudged the situation, and the cause of restoring the Han seemed, for a time, close to success. After that, Sun Wu broke the alliance, Guan Yu was defeated, we suffered a setback at Zigui, and Cao Pi proclaimed himself emperor. Such is the course of events: it is difficult to foresee.

“I will devote all my strength and stop only when I die. As for whether things will succeed or fail, advance or retreat, and bring gain or loss, these are beyond my ability to judge in advance.”

The Hongdao lu comments:

“Zhuge Liang’s use of troops was like that of Sun Wu and Wu Qi. Yet in the earlier and later ‘Memorials on the Campaign,’ he set out no extraordinary stratagems or secret plans. He merely said that one should attack when the enemy is exhausted, and made this the immediate…”

Did Zhuge Liang not consider all this? Because Tang of Shang was neither complacent nor arrogant, he later won the Battle of Mingtiao, in which he campaigned against Jie of Xia. Because King Wu of Zhou harbored no divided loyalties, he was later able to unleash his force and press forward with courage. Zhuge Liang served as minister to Liu Shan, with Liu Shan as sovereign, yet he would treat Cao Rui as an enemy and Sima Yi as a subject. This was like… having Yao lead while a wolf herded the sheep: how could good order be achieved? [One character is missing from the original after “for example,” so the first half of the comparison cannot be determined.]

Yet the Han house and those who usurped it could not coexist, and the enterprise of kingship could not be confined to a corner of the realm. The great and upright cause had to be made known to all under Heaven. Thus Zhuge Liang exhorted and led the three armies to pacify the Central Plain in the north, restore the Han house, and return to the old capital. He also said that he could neither sleep in peace nor enjoy his food, and that he would devote himself to the task until his death. Zhuge Liang already understood that this undertaking might not succeed. His conduct was so open and principled, his cause so just, that he could not be compared with those who relied on flattery and ingratiation, or hoped to succeed by luck.

The Great Admonition to the Emperor, submitted by Zhang Yungu of the Tang dynasty, says:

Looking across the world, from ancient times to the present, we can see that although a ruler can bestow blessings on others, being a ruler is truly no easy task. Seated above all under Heaven in the dignity of a king, he receives local products from the people, while his ministers present the policies he has set in motion. As a result, a ruler can easily grow lax, and thoughts of crookedness and self-indulgence can gradually take root. How can he fail to see that affairs often begin in neglect, and calamities frequently arise from the unexpected?

The sages received the Mandate to rule in order to rescue the suffering and turn a troubled age toward peace. They took faults upon themselves and thought at every turn of the people. A ruler should be discerning and impartial, fair and free of favoritism. Therefore, one person should govern the world; the people of the world should not be made to serve one person. Ritual restrains extravagance, and music teaches against excess. Do not imagine that no one knows: even in a high place, one must hear the voices below. Do not imagine that small matters do no harm: accumulated, they can bring about great calamity.

Pleasure must not be taken to excess, for excess gives rise to sorrow. Desire must not be indulged, for indulgence brings calamity. Even when building splendid palaces deep within the imperial precincts, one needs only a place to shelter oneself. Yet the foolish and ignorant do not understand this: they build terraces as splendid as precious jade and adorn halls as though they were made of fine stone. Even when delicacies fill the table, one eats only what suits one’s taste. Yet the reckless and unrestrained give no thought to the consequences: they pile up wine like mountains and dig wine pools on a grand scale.

Do not become infatuated with women or absorbed in hunting. Do not prize rare treasures or listen to the music of a fallen state. Punish only after the people have all condemned a deed; reward only after they have all welcomed it. Restrain the powerful and unruly, and bring order to what is in turmoil. Let the wronged have redress, and set right what has been unjustly done.

Thus, a ruler should be as fair as a balance and as steady as its weight, judging things without letting personal feelings sway him. When an object is hung on the balance, its weight becomes clear of itself. He should also be like water and a mirror, reflecting things without distortion…

If we observe things and judge people through personal feelings, treachery and folly will naturally arise. Do not be muddled and turbid, nor excessively aloof and high-minded. Do not be obscure, nor scrutinize things to excess. Even with the hanging strands of a ceremonial crown veiling the eyes, one should see what is formless; even with yellow silk wadding in the ears, one should hear what is soundless. Let the heart abide in stillness and purity, and let the spirit roam through the subtlety of the utmost Dao (the Way).

Those who understand this principle respond appropriately to matters great and small, like an echo. Those who draw upon it, whether from its shallows or its depths, find what they need. Thus it is said: Heaven’s Dao follows its constant course; through it, the earth is at peace and the ruler is upright. The four seasons take turns without speaking; the myriad things transform and come into being of themselves, without speaking. Who would imagine that this is the ruler’s doing? The world is thereby brought to harmony and stability.

Our King pacified disorder and governed the people through wisdom and strength. The people feared his authority, but had yet to feel gratitude for his De (Virtue/Power). Our August Emperor followed the course of the times and taught the people through an unadorned, generous spirit. The people were grateful that he had founded the realm, but it had not yet achieved lasting stability. Thus he composed the Golden Mirror, probing the hidden and plumbing the principles of the sages, so that people might answer words with sincerity and put what they say into practice. He set forth the way of governing the state in its entirety, weighing and judging the language of policy, so that the world might belong to all under Heaven, and the ruler might share in the blessings of peace. He spread kindness widely and prayed for the people’s good fortune, playing the qin and composing poems, while keeping these matters of governance always in mind. People bring misfortune or good fortune upon themselves; if their conduct is upright, Heaven will surely protect them. Your ministers, who dare to speak frankly in remonstrance and uphold the law impartially, respectfully submit to Your Majesty the questions raised earlier.

The Record of Broadening the Dao (Hongdao lu) states: After the Han, through the Six Dynasties and the north-south division, and then through the two Jin dynasties, the great bond between ruler and minister came to be regarded as light and useless as a gourd hung up for show. Remonstrating ministers and upright men fell silent and vanished from public life, and this had gone on for a long time. When the Tang dynasty arose, it was as though the clouds had parted and the sunlight been revealed; only then did people understand that being a ruler was no easy task. The Admonition for the Great Treasure was once again presented and expounded. This, too, may be called a rare event. Yet Wei Zheng and Yun Gu served the ruler at the same time: Xie Yan won favor through praise and flattery, while Zhang Yun Gu admonished him sharply. The two received equal rewards at first, but later suffered very different punishments. This shows just how difficult it is to be wholly impartial and to make the world belong to all. How could people easily answer a ruler’s words with sincerity and carry out his commands in their actions?

The Comprehensive Mirror for Aid in Government (Zizhi Tongjian) records: Emperor Taizong of Tang became ever closer to Wei Zheng. Wei Zheng believed he had met an exceptional, enlightened ruler, and so poured out everything he had to say, submitting more than two hundred memorials over time. Each went straight to the point and accorded with Taizong’s wishes. Someone accused Wei Zheng of favoring his relatives, so Taizong sent Wen Yanbo to investigate, but nothing improper was found. Wen Yanbo said to Taizong, “Wei Zheng does not concern himself with minor details or deliberately avoid suspicion. Although he has no selfish intentions, his conduct still gives cause for reproach.” Taizong then ordered someone to reprimand Wei Zheng and warned him, “From now on, you should take care to avoid suspicion and observe the outward forms of propriety.”

Later, Wei Zheng entered the palace for an audience and said, “I have heard that only when ruler and minister share one mind can they be called a single body. It stands to reason that…”

If rulers and ministers, high and low alike, merely appear to devote themselves fully to their duties, the rise and fall of the state will still be hard to predict. I dare not accept the imperial command.

The emperor, Tang Taizong, said in surprise, “I already regret it.” Wei Zheng bowed again in gratitude and said, “I am fortunate to serve Your Majesty. I only hope that you will let me be a good minister, not a loyal minister.”

The emperor asked, “Is there a difference between a loyal minister and a good minister?” Wei Zheng replied, “Ji, Xie, and Gaoyao—worthy ministers said to have served Emperors Yao and Shun—worked in concert with their ruler and shared in his honor and esteem. Such men are called good ministers. Long Feng and Bi Gan, loyal ministers who were killed for speaking frankly in remonstrance, argued their case before the court and in the ruler’s presence; in the end, they were killed and their states destroyed. Such men are called loyal ministers.” The emperor was pleased to hear this.

The Hongdao lu comments: Duke Wei’s learning came from the scholarly tradition of the He and Fen regions, yet in these words he seems to say nothing that he had truly put into practice in his own cultivation. Why is that? Were Ji, Xie, and Gaoyao merely in accord with their ruler and sharing his honor and esteem? They ensured that fathers and sons, from the highest ranks downward, each fulfilled their proper way; that brothers lived in harmony; and that husbands and wives in each household kept to their respective roles. Everyone found their proper place. Only then could they enjoy honor and leave a name that would endure for ages.

During Tang Taizong’s reign, the relationships between fathers and sons were in disarray, the order of seniority among brothers was overturned, and the ethical bonds between husbands and wives were violated. It was only in rewards and punishments, appointments and dismissals, laws and government orders that, thanks to his natural intelligence, he happened not to disrupt the order. Wei Zheng thus won the emperor’s favor and was able to set out these principles. This is precisely what Zhang Yungu meant when he said, “The people fear the ruler’s might, but have not yet felt gratitude for his kindness.” How could such a situation be called the good governance of Yao and Shun or of the Xia, Shang, and Zhou dynasties? The way of loyal and good ministers as Wei Zheng describes it amounts to little more than ruler and minister winning a good reputation for one another. Readers should discern the true state of affairs.

In a memorial, Wei Zheng wrote: “Many rulers make a good beginning, but few are able to bring things to a good end. Is it because acquiring the realm is easy, but holding on to it is difficult? The reason is that in times of hardship, a ruler gives his whole heart and listens to his ministers; in times of ease, he is prone to arrogance and self-indulgence, and to treating others with contempt. When he is willing to listen to his ministers, even people far away can unite with him in purpose. When he treats others with contempt, even those close to him grow estranged and lose their virtue. Even if he uses threats and anger to intimidate his ministers and people, they will only obey outwardly; inwardly, they will not be convinced.

“If Your Majesty can now do the following: when you see something you desire, think of being content; when you are about to build or renovate, think of knowing when to stop; when you occupy a high position, think of maintaining humility and self-restraint; when you enjoy abundance, think of exercising moderation; when you enjoy ease and pleasure, think of restraining desire; when you are at peace and comfort, think of future calamities; when you guard against being deceived, think of listening widely to different views; when you detest evil and slander, think of setting yourself straight; when you grant rewards and confer titles, think of not giving them lavishly in a moment of delight; and when you impose punishments, think of not administering them harshly in a moment of anger. If you put these Ten Reflections into practice, then select the worthy and appoint the capable, you can bring order to the realm without exhausting your mind and strength. Why spend your energy and wear out your body by taking on every task on behalf of the people?”

The recorder says: Wei Zheng’s words are very good, but unfortunately they have not yet reached the root of the sage ruler’s achievements in governing the state. The heart governs thought: are the heart’s reflections limited to only ten things? And in a single day there are countless affairs of state—how could they be confined to a number? The key is to remain steadfastly focused and guarded when no one sees or hears, in quiet solitude, and in the subtle moments before things become apparent; in this way, stillness preserves the mind. With single-minded focus, stray thoughts do not arise; when there are no stray thoughts, external things cannot seize the opportunity to disturb us. With stillness, we are not caught up in turmoil; without turmoil, the heart always has a guiding center. Then, even when considering a thousand matters, one can still accomplish something. Why count only ten? Things that delight us are encountered through the eyes and ears; considering how to be content is the heart’s function. Once we have seen something desirable, the heart has already come into contact with external things. After that contact, when we begin to reflect, how many people can avoid being led astray by those things? Thus, the methods by which the ancients cultivated the heart and nature were easy to practice, whereas Wei Zheng’s “Ten Reflections” are difficult to make truly effective.

Wei Zheng says: When I served Your Majesty at your side, Your Majesty once promised me that you would steadfastly uphold the Way of benevolence and righteousness, never losing your sense of restraint; that you would remain frugal and plain, as consistent as ever. In recent years, however, Your Majesty has gradually failed to persevere to the end.

In the early years of Zhenguan, Your Majesty was tranquil and had few desires, and your influence through De reached far in every direction. Now, however, you send envoys on journeys of thousands of miles to buy fine horses and seek rare and unusual objects. This is the first change.

In the early years of Zhenguan, Your Majesty sympathized with the people’s hardships and cared for them as a parent cares for children, undertaking public works only when necessary. Recently, however, you have gradually become extravagant and indulgent, often thinking of putting the people to labor. This is the second change.

In the early years of Zhenguan, Your Majesty personally labored to bring benefit to the people. Recently, however, you have indulged your desires and made the people suffer. Though you often say that you are concerned for the people, what you truly value in your heart is pleasure. This is the third change.

In the early years of Zhenguan, Your Majesty drew close to gentlemen of virtue and kept petty men at a distance. Now, however, you treat virtuous gentlemen with respect but keep them at a distance, while drawing near to petty men and treating them familiarly. This is the fourth change.

In the early years of Zhenguan, Your Majesty did not value exotic goods or undertake useless projects. Now, however, precious and rare goods are presented one after another, and the making of objects for amusement and pleasure never ceases. This is the fifth change.

In the early years of Zhenguan, Your Majesty was eager to find worthy people. When appointing officials, you valued their strengths and were often afraid you would not appoint them in time. Recently, however, you have acted according to your own likes and dislikes: even when the people recommend someone worthy, Your Majesty may not appoint him, while a single person’s slander may cause you to dismiss him. This is the sixth change.

In the early years of Zhenguan, Your Majesty remained in the depths of the palace and sat at ease while attending to affairs of state, with no fondness for hunting or shooting birds. A few years later, you gradually ceased to hold fast to your resolve, accepting hawks and hounds offered by distant foreign peoples. You would leave at dawn and return only at dusk, taking delight in riding out to hunt. This is the seventh change.

In the early years of Zhenguan, Your Majesty treated your ministers with courtesy, and the ministers’ feelings toward you were also…

Even today, when officials from elsewhere present memorials to the throne, Your Majesty often does not look at their faces or attend to their words. At times, you even question them about minor faults. Even when they are loyal and sincere, they find it difficult to express their views fully. This is the eighth sign that respect is gradually being lost.

In the early years of the Zhenguan era, Your Majesty governed the state with diligence and often felt you had not done enough. Now, relying on your illustrious achievements and considering yourself wise and enlightened, you have gradually grown proud and self-indulgent, seeking pleasure. At times, you even raise armies without cause and send troops on distant campaigns. This is the ninth sign that respect is gradually being lost.

In the early years of the Zhenguan era, frost and drought struck year after year. The people around the capital moved beyond the passes, bringing the old and young with them, yet did not flee the country. Recently, the people have been worn down by labor service, and those in the Guanzhong region are especially hard pressed. This is the tenth sign that respect is gradually being lost.

Good fortune and disaster have no fixed paths; people bring them upon themselves. A rare opportunity that comes once in a thousand years, if missed, is difficult to find again. An enlightened ruler could have acted, but did not. This is why his ministers grieve and lament.

After the memorial was presented, Taizong said, “I have heard of my own faults.” He had the points raised in the memorial written on a screen, then entrusted them to the court historians to record, so that later generations would know the proper duties between ruler and ministers.

The Hongdao Lu comments: What does it mean for reverence at the beginning to prevail over neglect, and righteousness to prevail over desire? And what does it mean for neglect later to prevail over reverence, and desire over righteousness? How did King Wu of Zhou and Emperor Taizong of Tang differ at the outset? Yet their final outcomes were not the same, because of this gradual change. Wei Zheng’s remonstrance struck at a failing common to rulers throughout history. Though Taizong entrusted the memorial to the historians to record and thereby uphold the great duty between ruler and ministers, he soon acted against its message. The screens and couches remained as they had been, and later he was mocked for a stable decorated with gold. Clearly, he could not hold to his resolve, and had already forgotten the determination he had shown at the beginning.

Taizong, recalling the meritorious officials who had helped him establish the empire, ordered painters to make portraits of them. The portraits were hung in Lingyan Pavilion. There were twenty-four in all: the Duke of Zhao, Zhangsun Wuji; Li Xiaogong, Prince Yuan of Zhao Commandery; Du Ruhui, Duke of Laicheng; Wei Zheng, Duke Wenzhen of Zheng; Fang Xuanling, Duke of Liang; Gao Shilian, Duke of Shen; Yuchi Jingde, Duke of E; Li Jing, Duke of Wei; Xiao Yu, Duke of Song; Duan Zhixuan, Duke of Baozhongsheng; Liu Hongji, Duke of Kui; Qutu Tong, Duke Zhong of Jiang; Yin Kaishan, Duke Jie of Yun; Chai Shao, Duke Xiang of Qiao; Zhangsun Shunde, Duke Xiang of Pi; Zhang Liang, Duke of Yun; Hou Junji, Duke of Chen; Zhang Gongjin, Duke Xiang of Tan; Cheng Zhijie, Duke of Lu; Yu Shinan, Duke Wengyi of Yongxing; Liu Zhenghui, Duke Xiang of Qiao; Tang Jian, Duke of Ju; Li Shiji, Duke of Ying; and Qin Shubao, Duke Zhuang of Hu.

The Hongdao Lu goes on to comment: Why are Pei Ji and Liu Wenjing absent from the portraits in Lingyan Pavilion?

Ji Bu had once been an enemy of the Han dynasty, yet the Han pardoned him. Ding Gong had once shown kindness to the Han, yet the Han put him to death. Surely an enlightened ruler values more than personal enmities and favors. Wang Gui and Wei Zheng had once opposed the Tang, but because they were loyal to their sovereign, they left behind honored names. Pei Ji and Liu Wenjing had once received the Tang court’s favor, but because they violated what was right, even their portraits became a source of shame. After seeing these examples, can we still fail to know which path to choose?

In the early years of Emperor Xuanzong’s reign, Yao Yuanzhi, also known as Yao Chong, a Tang official, served as Minister of War and as a chief minister in the Secretariat and Chancellery. He understood that the emperor was broad-minded and eager to govern the state well, so he first raised several matters to strengthen the emperor’s resolve. He submitted this memorial:

“Since the Chuigong era, the court has used harsh punishments and severe laws to keep its officials in check. I hope that governance may take benevolence and leniency as its foundation. May it be so?

“After the court’s defeat in Qinghai, it has yet to learn from the lesson. I hope we will no longer gamble on seeking military glory at the frontier. May it be so?

“Recently, treacherous and sycophantic officials have violated the law, yet have always escaped punishment through imperial favor. I hope the law will be enforced strictly, beginning with those close to the sovereign. May it be so?

“When the empress ruled from court, the power to convey commands and assist in government fell into the hands of eunuchs. I hope eunuchs will take no part in government. May it be so?

“Relatives of the imperial house have offered gifts to curry favor with the emperor, and senior ministers and local officials have gradually followed their example. I hope such offerings will be prohibited, apart from tax payments. May it be so?

“Relatives of the imperial house and noble princesses have interfered with government, and the order of official ranks has become confused. I hope that imperial relatives will not hold important posts in the central offices. May it be so?

“Earlier courts treated ministers with undue familiarity and disrespect, harming the solemn decorum that should govern the relationship between ruler and minister. I hope Your Majesty will treat ministers with due respect. May it be so?

“Yan Qinrong and Wei Yuejiang were punished for offering loyal remonstrance, and from then on remonstrating officials were suppressed. I hope all ministers will be able to speak frankly and offer counsel, without being obstructed even when their words touch on matters the ruler dislikes. May it be so?

“Empress Wu had the Fushan Temple built, and the Retired Emperor later had the Jinxian and Yuzhen Abbeys built, at great expense. I hope construction of Daoist temples and Buddhist monasteries will cease. May it be so?

“The Han realm fell into disorder because the Lü, Wang Mang, Yan, and Liang clans disrupted government. The state should take these events as warnings. I hope we will learn from them and reform the abuses in government. May it be so?”

The emperor replied, “I can do all these things.”

The Hongdao Lu comments: Mencius said, “The people are not to blame, nor is the government to be faulted; only a person of lofty virtue can correct the errors in a ruler’s heart.” When Xuanzong first took power, his spirit was strong, but his intentions were not yet clear. Yao Chong was able to raise these matters in advance and correct the unsound thoughts in the ruler’s heart, setting governance on the right course in general. This may have spared him the regret of failing to uphold his principles in later life. Looking at these ten proposals today, we see that such principles as putting benevolence and leniency first in governance, not gambling on military achievements at the frontier, enforcing the law beginning with those close to the ruler, and prohibiting eunuchs and imperial relatives from interfering in government were all important to appointing officials and administering state affairs at the time.

He spoke only of faults, without a word addressing the key to setting the ruler’s heart aright. Moreover, anyone who remonstrates with a ruler should first consider whether the proposed measures are truly workable, and only then speak. This is different from simply reproaching the ruler. Later, favored frontier officials, imperial consorts who monopolized the ruler’s favor, powerful eunuchs, and maternal relatives all abused their power and indulged in extravagance and pleasure, until the state perished. Few avoided repeating Chongjin’s mistake. What use were his words, in the end? We can see from this that the words of a great worthy may sound impractical while actually striking at the heart of the matter; Chongjin’s ten proposals may sound practical while actually being impractical.

Song Jing, Minister of Justice, was appointed Tongping Zhangshi (chief minister). As chief minister, he focused on selecting capable people and assigning them posts suited to their abilities, so that every official could fulfill his duties. He distributed rewards and punishments fairly and without self-interest, and dared to remonstrate frankly with the ruler. Emperor Xuanzong greatly respected him and was wary of him; even when he disagreed with Song’s views, he often yielded to them tactfully.

The Turkic leader Mochuo had plagued China’s borders for generations. The court was deeply concerned, yet even mobilizing the strength of the whole realm had failed to destroy him. When Hao Lingquan returned with Mochuo’s head, he believed he had accomplished a once-in-a-thousand-years feat. Fearing that the emperor’s taste for military exploits would lead ambitious men to take reckless risks in pursuit of glory, Song Jing strenuously argued for limiting Hao Lingquan’s reward. A year later, Hao was finally given the post of langjiang. Overcome with grief and indignation, he wept bitterly and died.

At the time, Yao Chong and Song Jing served successively as chief ministers. Yao Chong excelled at adapting to changing circumstances and handling the affairs of the day; Song Jing excelled at upholding the law and maintaining integrity. Though their aims and principles differed, they worked together in service of the court, keeping taxes and labor duties moderate, punishments simple, and the people prosperous. Among the Tang dynasty’s worthy chief ministers, Fang Xuanling and Du Ruhui came first, followed later by Yao Chong and Song Jing; few others could compare.

The Record comments: In my view, Duke Guangping Song—Song Jing’s title—truly deserves to be called a great minister. He held the brothers Zhang Yizhi and Zhang Changzong in check while treating them with respect; he set aside his own dignity to show courtesy to Li Sizu; he wept over the matter of Hao Lingquan; and he could not dissuade Xuanzong from placing Wang Maozhong in an important position. These were all difficult challenges that a great minister had to face. If Song had served rulers like those of the Xia, Shang, and Zhou dynasties, could he have become an Yi Yin or a Duke of Zhou? I think not. Yi Yin said, “All must hold fast to one Virtue”—ruler and minister alike must devote themselves to upholding a single Virtue. The Duke of Zhou said, “I aspire to embrace the Three Kings”—he resolved to draw together the governing principles of Yu of Xia, Tang of Shang, and King Wen of Zhou. How far-reaching their hopes and aspirations were! Song Jing’s governance amounted only to restoring the old institutions of the Zhenguan era. Thus, the horses that had briefly been included in the court procession were soon excluded again, and the slanderous words of entertainers were quickly believed. Perhaps his achievements were not sustained to the end, which explains this assessment. As for choosing talented people, appointing officials, and risking the ruler’s displeasure to remonstrate frankly, these were things that any chief minister could do. To sum up Song Jing’s character in these terms is to judge him too narrowly, seeing only the minor details.

Han Xiu was appointed Huangmen Shilang, an official responsible for palace affairs, and Tongping Zhangshi. He was stern and upright, and did not scheme for fame or profit. Once he became chief minister, he lived up to the expectations of the people of his time, holding fast to the right path and refusing to attach himself to the powerful. At times, Xuanzong, while in the palace…

Emperor Xuanzong of Tang held banquets and entertainments in the palace, or went hunting in the rear garden. If he did anything even slightly improper, those around him would ask, “Does Han Xiu know?” Before they could finish speaking, Han Xiu’s memorial of remonstrance would already have arrived.

Once, Xuanzong looked in a mirror and silently seemed displeased. Someone nearby said, “Since Han Xiu became chancellor, Your Majesty has grown much thinner than before. Why not dismiss him?” Xuanzong replied, “Though I may have grown thinner, the people of the realm must surely be growing more prosperous. Xiao Song always reports matters in a way that pleases me; after he leaves, I cannot sleep soundly. Han Xiu often argues his case on principle; after he leaves, I can finally rest easy. I employ Han Xiu for the sake of the state, not for myself.”

The Hongdao lu comments: Xuanzong’s attendants believed that Chancellor Han Xiu was making the emperor thin. From this, we can infer that they must have thought Chancellor Li Linfu made the emperor plump. In truth, the emperor was not growing thin because of the people’s circumstances, but because before his eyes there were no beautiful women to admire, no pleasing sounds to hear, and no sycophants at his side who could be put to work for him.

Later, Xuanzong came to enjoy the sumptuous beauty of Yang Taizhen, also known as Yang Guifei, the fawning cleverness of An Lushan, and the seductive, debauched sights and sounds of the “Rainbow Skirt and Feathered Robe” court dance. He became carefree and content, broad in both body and mind. In the end, he sank into pleasure and would not turn back. Disaster struck, and he was driven into exile. At that point, even if he had wished not to grow thin, sorrow and anxiety would surely have left him haggard. Thus, Xuanzong’s sigh before the mirror may well have foreshadowed the grief he would later feel on hearing the bells at Mawei.

Therefore, the gentleman says: “An emperor’s body growing thin while the realm grows prosperous is only an empty reputation. An emperor’s body growing plump while the realm suffers is a true calamity.”

On Xuanzong’s Thousand-Autumn Festival, his birthday, the officials presented him with treasured mirrors. Zhang Jiuling said, “The late emperor once said: Use bronze as a mirror to straighten your robes and hat; use history as a mirror to see the rise and fall of states; use people as a mirror to recognize your own gains and losses.” Zhang Jiuling then recorded the causes of earlier dynasties’ rise and decline in a five-volume work: the first volume, “Founding States and Establishing Enterprises”; the second, “Selecting the Civil and Preparing the Military”; the third, “Serving the State and Restoring Its Strength”; the fourth, “Giving One’s Life in Service to the State”; and the fifth, “Leaving Behind Ancient Simplicity and Advancing New Refinement.” He called the five volumes together the Record of the Golden Mirror for the Thousand-Autumn Festival. He hoped Your Majesty would not take beauty as a source of pleasure, lest the state and its territory be lost in time to come. Instead, he should set himself right and govern the state, using the past as a mirror for the present.

After the book was presented, Xuanzong sent Zhang Jiuling a letter praising him.

The Hongdao lu comments: According to the records, Zhang Jiuling burned the draft of the Record of the Golden Mirror in the Secretariat, so it did not circulate in his time. Later, he entrusted the manuscript to the descendants of his two sons-in-law, Han and Song. Only a thousand years later did the book reach the world. Read today, its words are profound and bright as the sun and moon. What he saw through was not An Lushan alone, but also those of his own time who helped bring about the calamity…

Everyone knows of these events, but were they meant only as warnings about the rise and fall of states? In fact, the book is also adept at discerning the underlying patterns and reasons in things. The saying “to distinguish things as clearly as a bright mirror” describes precisely this ability; it does not mean merely recording events in general terms.

The book says: “An Lushan was the essence of a wild boar, with a belly hanging below his knees; Shi Siming was the essence of a ji bird, a legendary kind of bird, with two wings growing beneath his arms; Yang Guifei was the essence of a silver pheasant, a kind of bird, and all her fingernails were red. There were also the expressions ‘wood and child,’ ‘double wood,’ ‘wood and easy,’ and ‘walking metal.’” “Wood and child,” “double wood,” and “wood and easy” each allude respectively to surnames such as Li, Lin, and Yang; “walking metal” is likewise a word puzzle in a prophetic saying.

The book also says: “Neither rhinoceros nor tiger, yet it leans eastward and moves westward; it dances in a strange manner and speaks strange words; palaces turn into millet fields.” It also says: “Your Majesty has governed the state for many years, and your benevolence has gradually grown faint. Loyal ministers’ remonstrations have become enmity, while flattering and treacherous men have joined together. Sheep and carp drift among them: ‘sheep’ means Yang Guozhong, and ‘carp’ means Li Linfu. Coconut and elm advance together; the state is ruined and families destroyed, and only then comes regret and longing for the past.” “Coconut” and “elm” are also borrowed characters alluding to people or things, though the original text does not explain them.

The book further says: “The ruler sheds tears at Bashan and struggles along the road through Shu. Affection has turned to resentment; only then does he admire the loyalty of the honest and unworldly.” During the Kaiyuan era, the state was at its height, and even in the Tianbao era it had not yet reached its end. How could the book have known in advance of such future hardships as “the difficulty of the road through Shu,” or of the turning point around Lingwu? During the An Lushan Rebellion, Emperor Xuanzong of Tang fled to Shu to escape the turmoil; later, Emperor Suzong of Tang took the throne at Lingwu. This shows that the book could reflect not only people’s outward appearance but also their inner nature; it could illuminate not only gains and losses in a single moment, but also the rise and fall of two generations. Yet, judging from Yan Ling’s story, the strange dances and bizarre speech later attributed to supernatural portents appeared time and again. How could one find anyone with Yan Ling’s foresight to discuss the rise and fall of states with him?

Yan Zhenqing, governor of Pingyuan, learned that An Lushan was about to rebel. Taking advantage of several days of heavy rain, he strengthened the city walls, dredged the moat, counted the able-bodied men, and filled the granaries. An Lushan dismissed him as merely a scholar. After launching his rebellion, An Lushan sent orders to Pingyuan and Boping and dispatched seven thousand troops to guard the Yellow River crossing. Yan Zhenqing resisted and also sent Li Ping, a military officer from Pingyuan, by a secret route to report to the court.

Until then, the court had heard only that the prefectures and counties of Hebei were submitting to the rebels at the first sign of trouble. Xuanzong was deeply worried and sighed, “Of the twenty-four prefectures, is there not one person with integrity?” When Li Ping arrived, Xuanzong was delighted and said, “I did not know what Yan Zhenqing looked like, yet he has managed to do this!” Yan Zhenqing then sent trusted men in secret to carry documents calling on the rebel forces to join his cause, and deliver them to various prefectures. From then on, more and more prefectures responded to him.

The Hongdao lu comments: Confucius said, “When those in high positions esteem ritual, among the people none will dare to be disrespectful; when those in high positions esteem righteousness, among the people none will dare to be insubordinate; when those in high positions esteem trustworthiness, among the people none will dare to deal with others without sincerity.” The sages spoke these words to use them to transform the world, because they were always concerned that the people might follow the prevailing wind and abandon their principles. During Xuanzong’s reign, he favored flattery and was consumed by women; ritual, righteousness, and trustworthiness were swept away…

The realm is on the verge of collapse, yet people lament that there is not a single person of loyalty and integrity in the world. Is that not absurd?

From this we can see how weighty the Three Bonds—the relationships between ruler and subject, father and son, and husband and wife—and the Four Cardinal Virtues—propriety, righteousness, integrity, and a sense of shame—are. We cannot go a single day without them. Can the customs of the eras of Tang Yao and Yu Shun really be revived? Is that merely empty talk without foundation?

Yan Gaoqing, a Tang official, had been in rebellion for only eight days when Shi Siming and Cai Xide arrived with troops at the city walls, before its defenses were ready. Yan Gaoqing asked Wang Chengye for reinforcements. Wanting to claim all the credit for himself, Wang Chengye kept his troops back and gave no aid. Yan Gaoqing fought day and night. When both food and arrows ran out, the city fell. The rebels stormed it, captured Yan Gaoqing, Yuan Lüqian, and others, and sent them to Luoyang.

An Lushan challenged Yan Gaoqing: “You were originally only a registrar in Fanyang. I petitioned to have you appointed as an aide. In just a few years, you rose to the position of governor. How have I wronged you, that you would rebel against me?”

With his eyes closed, Yan Gaoqing cursed him: “You were originally a Jie slave herding sheep in Yingzhou. The Son of Heaven raised you up and made you military governor of three circuits, showing you favor beyond compare. How has the Son of Heaven wronged you, that you would rebel? My family has served the Tang for generations; the Tang gave me my rank and stipend. Even if you petitioned for my appointment, was I therefore supposed to join you in rebellion? I fought for the state to punish a traitor. I regret only that I failed to kill you. How can you call me a rebel?”

An Lushan flew into a rage and sentenced Yan Gaoqing and Yuan Lüqian to death by dismemberment. To their dying moments, they continued to curse him.

The Hongdao Lu comments: When I consider the two gentlemen of the Yan family—Yan Gaoqing and Yan Zhenqing—did they merely decide the question of life and death in a moment of crisis? More than that, they upheld the proper order between ruler and subject that had sustained the Tang for three hundred years. Ever since the uprising at Jinyang brought disorder, through Liu Wuzhou and Pei Ji’s rebellion against the Sui, and Wu Zetian’s transformation of the Tang into the Zhou, Tang officials had done nothing but flatter and comply. The state endured for more than a hundred years, yet it seemed that no one knew what it meant to die for loyalty and integrity. Hearing of the two gentlemen’s deeds, one might think they had descended from Heaven or emerged from the earth. I do not know what kind of person Yan Zhenqing was to be capable of such a thing. Though they suffered cruel torture and died with their tongues cut out, their names still spread far and wide like a fragrant scent, shining brightly. They surpassed the declining Sui and outshone the brutal Wu Zhou. Is that not worthy of praise?

Zhang Xun, a Tang general, raised troops to resist An Lushan. Linghu Chao besieged Yongqiu for more than forty days. At the time, word came that Emperor Xuanzong of Tang had fled to Shu. Six generals told Zhang Xun that their forces could not match the rebels, and that the emperor’s fate was unknown; they would be better off surrendering to the rebels. Zhang Xun appeared to agree. The next day, he set up an image of the Son of Heaven in the hall and led his soldiers in paying their respects before it. Then he summoned the six generals, rebuked them in the name of righteousness, and executed them. This strengthened the soldiers’ resolve, and they swore to fight to the death.

Yin Ziqi led five hundred men to cut down trees and build a camp. Outside the city, the rebel forces continued to grow, tightening their encirclement of Suiyang. The patrol commander, General Lei Wanchun, stood atop the city wall and spoke with Yin Ziqi across it. Before their conversation was finished, rebel crossbowmen shot Lei in the face. He was struck by six arrows but did not move. Thinking he was a wooden figure, Yin Ziqi sent someone to find out who he was. When he learned it was Lei Wanchun, he was deeply astonished. Calling from a distance to Zhang Xun, he said, “Seeing General Lei just now showed me how strict and clear the orders in your army are. But what can be done against the will of Heaven?” Zhang Xun replied, “You do not yet understand human relationships and duty. How could you understand the Way of Heaven?”

The Hongdao lu comments: “Did Zhang Xun give his life for righteousness in vain? A person must first hold firm convictions, so that the heart has a guiding purpose. With such purpose, one can carry things through and accomplish great deeds. When human relationships and moral duty are fulfilled to the utmost, the principles of Heaven naturally become manifest. That is why later generations heard that the Tang dynasty was restored, but not that the rebels’ fortunes prospered for long. They heard that Zhang Xun and Xu Yuan seemed still to live among us, but not that Linghu Chao had never died. Who can say that, in sudden danger and crisis, a person cannot follow the right path just as in ordinary times?”

After Yin Ziqi had besieged Suiyang for a long time and the city’s food had run out, Zhang Xun and Xu Yuan discussed abandoning the city and withdrawing eastward. They believed Suiyang was the barrier protecting the Jianghuai region. If they gave it up, the rebels would surely press forward in the wake of victory, and Jianghuai could no longer be defended. They therefore decided to hold the city and wait for reinforcements.

At first, Zhang Xun and his soldiers ate tea leaves and paper together. When these ran out, they killed horses for food. When the horses were gone, they caught sparrows and dug up rats to eat. After the sparrows and rats were gone, Zhang Xun killed a favorite concubine to feed the soldiers; Xu Yuan also killed his servant. Then they gathered the women in the city for food. When the women were gone, they ate the men, the elderly, and the children. Everyone knew they were bound to die, yet no one defected. In the end, only a little over four hundred people remained in the city. On the guichou day, the rebels climbed the city walls, while the defenders were too ill and weak to fight. Zhang Xun turned to the west, bowed, and said, “Your servant has exhausted all his strength and can no longer save the city. In life I can no longer repay Your Majesty; in death I shall become a vengeful ghost and kill the enemy.”

The Hongdao lu comments: “I wonder whether the stories of vengeful ghosts are truly credible. Peng Sheng and Boyou became vengeful ghosts because of their personal crimes. But the defense of Suiyang upheld the moral courage of the ages. Zhang Xun’s strength could be overcome, but his resolve could not be subdued; his body could die, but his moral courage could not perish. Though people could neither see nor hear the loyal spirits and righteous souls, events such as Zhu’er turning against and killing An Qingxu, and Li Chaoyi taking up arms to fight back, seem as though ghosts and spirits were secretly directing them. Who can say that these were not the manifestations of vengeful ghosts? The Tang dynasty could recover its lost territory, though it could no longer kill the corpses of rebels such as An Lushan and Shi Siming. Given this, can the stories of vengeful ghosts taking revenge really be dismissed as untrue?”

During Emperor Daizong’s reign in the Tang dynasty, Guo Ziyi was ennobled as the Loyal and Martial Prince of Fenyang. As a commanding general with a large army at his disposal, he was repeatedly slandered and framed by Cheng Yuanzhen, Yu Chao’en, and others. Yet whenever the court summoned him with a single imperial edict, he set out that very day and never resisted. Their slander therefore came to nothing.

Guo Ziyi once sent an envoy to Tian Chengsi. Facing the direction in which the envoy stood, Tian bowed again and again, saying, “For many years, these knees of mine have not bent before anyone.” When Li Lingyao occupied Bianzhou, he seized all public and private goods passing through the city. The only property he dared not touch was Guo Ziyi’s; instead, he sent troops to escort it out of his territory.

Guo Ziyi served as Secretariat Director for the prescribed twenty-four months and received a total of twenty thousand strings of cash in salary (a string was an ancient unit of currency). This did not include his private wealth. His home was piled high with treasures, and his household numbered three thousand. His eight sons and seven sons-in-law were all prominent officials, and he had dozens of grandchildren. When they came to pay their respects, he could not recognize them all individually, so he simply nodded in response. Pugu Huai’en, Li Huaiguang, Hun Jian, and others had all served under him. Even after they rose to princely rank, they often still carried out Guo Ziyi’s instructions, respectfully hurrying to serve him.

For nearly thirty years, the security of the realm depended on Guo Ziyi. His achievements were unparalleled, yet the ruler did not suspect him; his rank reached the highest possible for a subject, yet no one envied him. His life was extraordinarily luxurious, yet people did not criticize him. He lived to the age of eighty-five. Many of his commanders and staff later became high-ranking officials and celebrated ministers.

The Hongdao Lu comments: “Guo Ziyi’s service and retirement were bound up with the security of the realm. Why did he escape harm from the ruler’s suspicions and avoid being divided from him by slander? Yu Chao’en constrained him from the front, while Cheng Yuanzhen sowed discord behind his back, yet he remained free of resentment throughout. Why was this?”

The Book of Changes says: “In Obstruction, it is not advantageous for the noble one to persist; the small departs and the great arrives—good fortune and success.” This means that when things are blocked and communication has broken down, the noble one is in an unfavorable position. But when the small recedes and the great comes forward, circumstances turn auspicious and things can prosper. The reigns of Emperors Suzong and Daizong were precisely a time when the noble were in a difficult position. Guo Ziyi was able to turn the situation around because he had the ruler’s trust and the prestige to pacify the various factions, enabling him to fulfill his ambition to save the realm.

When he went on campaign, he obeyed the court’s orders and thus incurred no fault. When he was not campaigning, he was tolerant and patient, acting in accordance with circumstances. So when the court asked him to retire for a time, he did so; when it asked him to disperse his troops, he complied. Whatever his circumstances, he remained at ease. He first took the field during the An Lushan Rebellion, went out again when the Tibetans invaded, and campaigned repeatedly amid the turmoil caused by Pugu Huai’en’s rebellion and the Uyghur threat.

Had he ignored the need to prevent trouble before it arose, and allowed himself to be constrained by undeserved disgrace or humiliation, he would have known only security and not danger, and seen only immediate advantage without considering the disasters it might bring.

In this way, he would put himself in danger, and the state would perish with him. How could this be called a great man’s good fortune and success?

In the first year of the Xingyuan era (784), a decree proclaiming a change of era and granting a general amnesty had been drafted. The emperor gave the draft to Lu Zhi, a Tang official known for his memorials, and asked him to review it. Knowing that the emperor’s virtue and resolve were still uncertain, Lu Zhi submitted a memorial:

“Words alone have limited power to move people. And if they are not spoken with sincerity, who will willingly believe them from the heart? Now, when proclaiming a statement of virtue and admitting past mistakes, the words must be profound; when accepting responsibility, the admission must be complete. When the people of the realm hear them, they should be transformed in an instant, as if dense darkness had parted to reveal the bright sun.”

The emperor then issued this decree:

“I have lived for a long time within the palace and do not understand the work of governing the state. Habit can easily lead a person astray, and a life of ease makes one forget danger. I have not known the hardships of farming, nor sympathized with the hardships of those who guard the frontier and fight in battle. My beneficence has not reached the people, and the truth of their circumstances has not been able to reach me. As a result, government affairs became obstructed, and people grew suspicious and alienated from one another. Still, I did not reflect on my conduct. At last I raised troops and made war, summoned soldiers from every region, transported provisions over a thousand miles, and requisitioned carts and horses, causing turmoil in places near and far. The people were exhausted: some had to follow the army carrying grain, while others remained at home to supply it with provisions.

Heaven sent warnings, but I did not awaken to them; the people harbored anger, but I did not know it. Disorder gradually took shape, and warfare spread to the capital. Everything fell into chaos, and the ancestral temples were shaken. Above, I failed my ancestors; below, I betrayed the people. I am stricken with grief and shame; the guilt truly lies with me. Whenever I think of this, shame and sorrow overcome me, as if I were falling into an abyss. From now on, in all memorials and documents submitted within or beyond the court, I must no longer be called ‘Sage, Divine, Civil, and Martial.’”

After the amnesty was proclaimed, people’s hearts were greatly gladdened. The following year, Li Baozhen came to court and said to the emperor: “When the amnesty decree spread through Shandong, the soldiers were moved to tears. Seeing how people felt, I knew the rebels were no cause for concern and could ultimately be subdued.”

The Hongdao lu comments: The Book of Changes, in the fourth line of the Hexagram Huan, says, “The dispersion gathers into a mound; this is beyond ordinary understanding.” The fifth line says, “In dispersion, his great command is like a sweat.” This is because an extraordinary crisis cannot be resolved by ordinary means, and extraordinary disorder cannot be addressed with commonplace words alone. Without sincerity, one cannot move people; unless loss has reached its extreme, recovery will not come. The influence of virtue truly spreads faster than commands carried by relay stations.

Emperor Dezong of Tang knew only that Heaven had sent Li Sheng, the Tang general, to preserve the state. He did not understand that once people’s hearts were moved, the rebels could be subdued. In times of national peril, people offered loyal remonstrances; once the disorder had been quelled, the emperor instead pursued and punished those who had spoken frankly. This is why, although Dezong briefly escaped danger and achieved his aims, in the end he could not reunite the hearts that had grown divided or attain a grand and enlightened state of affairs. How regrettable.

Lu Zhi, a Tang dynasty minister, did all he could to expose Pei Yanling’s treachery, listing his crimes. In essence, he wrote: “Pei Yanling treats plundering wealth as a long-term strategy and deception and concealment as sound policy. He calls exploiting the people and incurring their resentment ‘putting public duty before private interest,’ and describes suppressing accusations and silencing slander as ‘serving loyally and upholding integrity.’ He is just like Gonggong in the time of Yao, or Shaozheng Mao of Lu.”

When the memorial was submitted, the emperor was displeased. Lu Zhi was often treated with great favor by the emperor, but whenever he believed something was wrong, he always argued his case with all his strength. Those close to him sometimes urged him not to be so forceful. He replied, “I will not fail the Son of Heaven above, nor betray the principles I have learned below. I cannot concern myself with anything else.”

The Hongdao lu comments: How could anyone bear to fail the Son of Heaven? Yet when a ruler is arrogant, his ministers become sycophants; when a ruler is suspicious, his ministers become corrupt. In truth, it is the Son of Heaven himself who has failed the Way of the Son of Heaven. And who would willingly betray the principles they have learned? Yet if one treats exploiting the people as the best policy and plundering wealth as good practice, then one has put one’s learning to wrongful use.

A noble person does not act this way. A noble person studies in order to become a sage. Therefore, rulers such as Yao, Shun, Yu, Tang, King Wen, and King Wu should be held to exacting standards; ministers such as Gaoyao, Yi Yin, Fu Yue, the Duke of Zhou, and the Duke of Shao should likewise be expected to meet the highest standards. If a ruler is harsh, a minister still cares for him through loyalty; if a ruler is suspicious, a minister still meets him with sincerity. Do they deliberately set themselves against one another? One need only act in this way oneself. Did Mencius not say, “If you cannot assist your ruler in becoming worthy, you cannot be called a loyal minister”? Someone who betrays the principles they have learned is truly worse even than a thief. How, then, could anyone who is Son of Heaven lead others to betray the Way of the Son of Heaven?

Li Sheng, a Tang dynasty general, had more than a hundred people in his household, and the families of the Shence Army’s soldiers had also remained in Chang’an. When someone in the army mentioned his family, Li Sheng wept and said, “Where is the Son of Heaven? How dare I speak of my own family?” Later, Zhu Ci sent a trusted aide with a letter saying that Li Sheng’s family was safe. Li Sheng was furious. “How dare you come on behalf of a rebel to ask after my family?” he said, and immediately ordered the man executed.

The Hongdao lu comments: Those who take on the great affairs of the realm put their families aside. Even if they worry about their families, what good can it do? The Book of Changes says, “In the midst of danger, there is trust; the heart is open, and one’s actions win approval.” At the time, Zhu Ci had rebelled and occupied the capital, while Huaiguang had also rebelled at Xianyang. The situation was perilous, and provisions were scarce. Without steadfast concentration, one’s mind would become unsettled—how, then, could one go forth and accomplish great deeds? If Li Sheng had cared only for his family then, he would not only have failed to save them; he would have lost the country as well. Later, Li Sheng was granted a residence, and the court provided him with curtains, ceremonial guards, and a formal reception and send-off. How could that compare with the ordinary circumstances of his household in those earlier days? And what of descendants such as Li Xian and Li Su?

Even if you find yourself among bandits who mean you harm, how could they bring about your downfall?

In the third year of the Yuanhe era under Emperor Xianzong of Tang, Pei Ji served as Vice Director of the Chancellery and Tongpingzhangshi, a chief minister.

At first, Emperor Dezong of Tang did not trust his chief ministers and personally decided every matter of state, great or small. While Xianzong was still a prince, he understood that this was the wrong way to govern. After ascending the throne, he selected and appointed chief ministers, entrusted them with affairs wholeheartedly, and Pei Ji, for his part, served him with all his strength. Xianzong once asked Pei Ji, “What matters most in governing?” Pei Ji replied, “First, set your own heart right.”

After Emperor Muzong of Tang ascended the throne, he once saw the calligraphy of Liu Gongquan, an administrative aide to the regional inspector of Aizhou, and admired it greatly. He appointed Liu as You Shiyi, an official responsible for remonstrating with the emperor. Muzong asked him, “How do you write so well?” Liu Gongquan replied, “The key to wielding the brush lies in the heart. When the heart is upright, the brush will be upright.” Muzong fell silent, his expression turning solemn. He clearly understood that Liu was using calligraphy to offer him remonstrance.

The Hongdao lu comments: From the time of Taizong onward, many people in the Tang dynasty offered remonstrances, but none probed as deeply into the root of the matter as Pei Ji, who proposed that one must first set the heart right. Liu Gongquan, too, used the saying “when the heart is upright, the brush is upright” to admonish the emperor. Yet Xianzong ultimately failed to put this principle into practice to the end, and Muzong failed to set himself right from the outset. Why? Because, at root, the “heart” is simply the Principle of Heaven. Though people possess a heart, the Principle of Heaven truly originates in Heaven; without study, one cannot understand it. Thus the Way of cultivation in the Great Learning begins with the investigation of things and the extension of knowledge, then proceeds to making the intention sincere and setting the heart right. The sequence cannot be reversed, and none of the work can be omitted. Pei Ji and Liu Gongquan opened the way to this principle, but did not explain it fully; Xianzong and Muzong heard their words but failed to recognize their own faults. If a person is made into something less than human, and allowed to fall into neglect without correction, what use is the heart? One can only heave a deep sigh.

From the end of the Yuanhe era onward, the eunuchs grew ever more powerful. The appointment and deposition of emperors lay in their hands; their influence even surpassed the emperor’s, and no one dared speak out. In the second year of the Taihe era under Emperor Wenzong, Liu Fen, a native of Changping, forcefully exposed the dangers of eunuch dominance in his policy essay, written in response to questions on current affairs. In essence, he said: “What Your Majesty should fear most is that upheaval will break out within the palace, the state will fall into peril, the realm will face collapse, and the whole empire will be plunged into turmoil.” He also said: “If Your Majesty wishes to prevent the disasters of usurpation and regicide, you should establish the ruler in his rightful position, draw close to upright people, keep your distance from eunuchs who control punishments, and draw near to ministers who are forthright and dare to speak. Then the chief ministers can devote themselves to their duties, and officials at every level can hold fast to their responsibilities. Why let five or six intimate attendants control the great affairs of the realm? Disaster has already gathered within the palace walls, and treachery is taking root behind the curtains. I fear Cao Jie, Hou…”

Reading Liu Fen’s essay again today, I feel as though he has come alive in our own age. He also said: “Loyal ministers and worthy scholars cannot win the ruler’s trust, while eunuchs, relying on their power to manipulate the succession, framed the late emperor and prevented him from meeting a proper end. As a result, Your Majesty could not make a good beginning either. Why does Your Majesty not block the path of those who harbor dark and treacherous intentions, dismiss the insolent and disrespectful attendants, and put a stop to their schemes of bullying and coercion? You should revive the effort to clear away the accumulated abuses within the court, remain alert to what calls for vigilance, and be troubled by what deserves concern.” The examiners, Feng Su and the others, were all impressed and moved, but, fearing the eunuchs, did not dare to select him.

The Hongdao Lu comments: During the reign of Emperor Wenzong of Tang, Liu Fen dared to speak plainly, like someone beating a drum and rushing about to warn people during a solar eclipse. His strength was no match for the celestial portent, yet he could not help sounding the alarm. The Hongdao Lu records this to show that the Tang dynasty’s fortunes had reached their end.

End of the Hongdao Lu

Hongdao Lu, Scroll Eight

Righteousness

The Righteousness Between Ruler and Minister

The History of the Song records: When Taizu of Song first came to the throne, Guang and Jiao, Jiannan, Taiyuan, Jinghu, and Jiangbiao, as well as Liao and Xia, were all hostile powers. He therefore placed great importance on his generals. He appointed Li Hanchao to garrison Guannan, Ma Renyu to defend Yingzhou, Han Lingkun to guard Changzhou, He Weizhong to defend Yizhou, He Jiyun to command Dizhou, Guo Jin to control Xishan, Wu Shouqi to guard Jinzhou, Li Qianpu to defend Xizhou, and Li Jixun to guard Zhaoyi. He also sent Zhao Zan to garrison Yanzhou, Yao Neibin to defend Qingzhou, Dong Zunhui to garrison Huanzhou, Wang Yansheng to defend Yuanzhou, and Feng Jiye to guard Lingwu, in order to counter Taiyuan and Western Xia.

The families of these generals lived in Bianjing, where Taizu of Song ensured they were well cared for. He gave the generals full control over the income from government monopolies and special levies collected in their commanderies, allowing them to trade freely. They were also exempt from taxes and fees when traveling through other regions. Taizu permitted them to recruit fugitives as trusted retainers. They could handle military affairs as they saw fit. Whenever they came to court, Taizu always summoned them, gave them seats, and spoke with them; after granting them generous rewards, he would send them on their way.

As a result, the frontier generals accumulated wealth, enabling them to support retainers willing to die in their service and to send out people to gather intelligence on the enemy. When enemy forces invaded, they ambushed and attacked them, winning repeated victories. For twenty years, there was no troubling warfare in the northwest. Later, the subjugation of Shu and Chu and the expansion into Wu and Yue all went smoothly. This was because Taizu of Song treated his subordinates sincerely and used this approach to govern his officials.

The Hongdao Lu comments: As I see it, there were five main ways Taizu of Song governed and employed people: first, he was good at recognizing talent; second, he was good at putting talent to use; third, he treated people with sincerity; fourth, he treated his subordinates generously; and as for the income from government monopolies and special levies…

This fifth benefit is to give all these profits to the generals, allowing them to trade freely so that each may benefit.

Today, the northern frontier faces incursions by the Tatars, an old term for Mongol and other northern peoples, while the south maintains ties with Jiaozhi, an ancient name for the region around northern Vietnam. The revenues from goods monopolized and controlled by the various departments, including the share that goes into the state treasury, can be set aside for now. Even the income from trade with foreign merchant ships along the southeastern coast is substantial. When some people discuss affairs of state, they speak only of encouraging profit and say nothing about clearly established laws; others talk of expanding the frontier but do not discuss practical means. They fail to understand that people often see a small gain but not the harm ten times as great, and still refuse to take that harm into account. The seas have now been calm for more than three years. Merchant ships come and go as though along a well-traveled road. That is why a Fujian saying calls the sea “familiar”—and the saying is no exaggeration. Foreigners profit from trade, while China does nothing. In my private view, this shows that the matter has not been given careful and thorough consideration.

The first source of profit in the Eastern Sea is the salt trade. Besides salt, there are extensive timber resources and abundant supplies of aromatics. The military offices responsible for the two Guang regions have their own established arrangements for obtaining supplies. Why not adapt these methods, as appropriate, for Fujian and Zhejiang, and establish reserve treasuries to secure the allegiance of Annamese leaders, or collect trade surpluses to ease the troubles in the northwest? All these measures are feasible. Why treat them as taboo and refuse to discuss them? To neglect such matters while quibbling over exposing wrongdoing and suppressing and dispossessing people only gives them an incentive to fight, seize, steal, and climb over walls. This cannot be called a far-sighted policy.

Emperor Taizong of Song said to Song Qi and the others: “Whether the state is well governed or in disorder depends on whether rewards and punishments are properly applied. If rewards match merit and punishments match guilt, no state will be impossible to govern. But if rewards and punishments are used to embellish one’s record or vent one’s anger, no state will escape disorder. You must be careful.” He also said to Lü Mengzheng: “Before scholars attain prominence, when they see things in the world that violate reason, they feel indignant. Once they hold office and can offer sound advice and correct errors, they should do their utmost to state their views. Even if those views are not necessarily all correct, they should be discussed and amended so that matters accord with the right way. I do not rely on my high position to make people afraid to speak.”

The Hongdao lu comments: “A ruler exercises his role through rewards and punishments; a minister exercises his through offering sound advice and correcting errors. One may say that Emperor Taizong of Song understood the principles of government. Yet, judging by what he actually did, did he act this way in every instance? Duosun and Zhao Pu could not serve together. If the emperor truly valued Zhao Pu, he should first have dismissed Duosun. Even if he had clung to his authority and reserved all rewards and punishments for himself, who could have said that was unacceptable? Instead, he let the two sides entrap one another, using this to bring about the downfall of…”

As for Zhao Tingmei, once the emperor had formed his opinion of him, the matter was no longer merely a means of expressing favor or displeasure; it may well have affected the crucial judgment of what to gain and what to lose. After Chai Yu and Tang reported the disturbance, the emperor one day rewarded the informers and the low-ranking attendants for their service, and the next discussed the case against the clerks in the central offices. Among the officials, both senior and junior, were there none who understood the affairs of the age? Yet Grand Preceptor Wang Pu and seventy-three others fawned and acquiesced, leading the ruler into unrighteousness. Could such conduct be called morally right? Nor did the emperor simply rely on his exalted position to have his way.

Li Hang, a renowned minister of the Northern Song, posthumously titled Wenjing, was broad-minded and far-sighted from childhood. His father, Li Bing, once told someone, “This child will surely become a chief minister one day.” Li Hang attended an imperial banquet with Emperor Taizong. Afterward, Taizong personally saw him off and remarked, “Li Hang carries himself with such solemn dignity. He is truly a person of distinction.” When Emperor Zhenzong asked what should come first in governing the country, Li Hang replied, “Above all, do not appoint frivolous, shallow newcomers who are eager for quick results.”

One night, Zhenzong sent a messenger bearing an edict in his own hand, intending to make Lady Liu a Noble Consort. In the messenger’s presence, Li Hang held the edict to a candle and burned it. He told the messenger to report back: “Simply say that I, your servant Li Hang, consider this matter unacceptable.” The proposal was then abandoned.

The Hongdao Lu comments: Whenever I read of Li Hang holding the edict to a candle and burning it, I cannot help admiring Lord Wenjing’s forthright integrity. Returning the edict would already have been commendable; revising and correcting it would have been a worthy deed. How much more remarkable, then, to destroy it outright! Without an open heart and steadfast judgment, it would have been difficult not to be swayed by personal interest.

And what sort of person was Lady Liu? Her family background was humble; her talents were not exceptional; and her lineage was far removed from the imperial house. As the poem says, “A flat little stone lies low beneath one’s feet.” Should the emperor not have considered such things? Yet Lady Liu was naturally clever and skilled in handling documents. The gradual change in the character of government began here. Li Hang’s foresight lay not only in detecting disaster at its first faint signs, but also in clearly rejecting the emperor’s powerful command. Later, Li Di’s refusal to flatter and comply, and Yang Yi’s refusal to draft the decree installing Lady Liu, both reflected Li Hang’s example of integrity. Who can say that an act taken in a single moment cannot shape the gains and losses of an entire generation?

Because Li Hang had submitted no secret memorials, the emperor asked him, “Everyone has secret memorials, but you alone have none. Why?” Li Hang replied, “As a chief minister, I should present public matters openly. Why submit secret memorials? Those who send secret memorials either make slanderous accusations or seek favor through flattery. I have always detested such conduct. How could I follow their example?”

The Hongdao lu says: Since the habit of accusing one another and disrupting the government became widespread, the calamity of mutual hostility took shape. Nothing is more harmful than secret memorials to the throne.

No one is more deceptive than a person who points to a deer and calls it a horse; no one is more sycophantic than one who points to a bird and calls it a luan, a mythical bird of good omen. But a deer can at least be identified, and a bird can be examined. Though such acts deceive the ruler, the truth can sometimes still be established. Sealed memorials, by contrast, begin with secret actions and concealed traces, known to no one. Once they have been passed from one place to another, what evidence can be used to establish the facts? This is more than calling fragrant plants mugwort: it is calling white black.

Moreover, during the reign of Zhenzong, men such as Wang Qinruo and Ding Wei served in the court one after another. What they said when discussing Li Hang, a renowned minister of the Northern Song, showed that they assumed he would act as they did. They did not understand that, in the eyes of a noble person, even when standing in broad daylight, one fears concealing the slightest thing. How could such a person willingly place himself in a shadowy realm of favoritism?

The minds of petty people are different. When dealing with themselves, if things do not go their way, they scheme to profit; when dealing with others, they are either resentful or harsh. They advance through flattery and drive others out through envy and slander. Slander and flattery are what upright people detest most. So petty people invoke “secrecy” as a pretext for treacherous, underhanded schemes. First they stir in the ruler a vague anger that is hard to identify; then they probe for matters the ruler cannot openly discuss. The ruler and minister come to think they are bound by complete intimacy and trust—nothing could seem to inspire greater confidence between them. Next, these people seal and mark their memorials, submitting them in secret. With hearts like venomous snakes and the force of tigers, they deceive the ruler and mislead the people wherever they choose, stopping at nothing. What could they possibly fear?

As a result, a ruler’s hearing is inevitably one-sided, and his trust is inevitably placed in a single person. The victims are not only the people who suffer in secret; the court, too, is plainly thrown into disorder. Li Hang’s words deserve the reverence of generations to come.

Zhang Qixian was generous in spirit and rich in strategy, and he was often guided by the ambition to assist the ruler. He once spoke calmly with Zhenzong about the principles by which an emperor should govern, tracing them back to their source. Zhenzong said, “I believe there is no fixed form for the way emperors govern. As long as every matter is handled properly and comes close to the requirements of good government, that is enough.”

The Hongdao lu also says: The Book of Songs, in the “Greater Odes,” says, “Do not be stubborn or seek the favor of the powerful.” Zhenzong may not have reflected seriously on these words. The sage kings were Yao, Shun, Yu, Tang, King Wen, and King Wu. Their way of governing lay in holding faithfully to what is centered and correct, and transmitting the teaching of “concentrate and unify.” Thus this teaching resides in the heart, and…

Putting Heaven’s De (Virtue) into practice in government is the Way of the King, as the classics such as the Book of Documents explain. Revering Heaven, diligently serving the people, governing the populace, and making offerings to the spirits are all concrete matters. How could one say that they leave no tangible traces? The phrase “without traces” is really vague and unfounded; it is an absurd claim that runs counter to reason. It is a pity that Qixian began to make this point but did not explain it fully. He treated it only as an extraordinary retribution, without realizing that the institutions, deliberations, admonitions, and decrees recorded in ancient classics express principles that hold true for all ages. These principles do not require searching out hidden things, parading the strange, or pursuing an austerity rare among ordinary people. They are found in everyday life and conduct. Later, the doctrine of “using the spirit realm to establish instruction”—that is, teaching the people through spirits and rites—seemed to confirm this view. As a result, pretense, deception, and embellishment became pervasive, and the paths and realms of the Dao grew remote.

Han Qi, a renowned statesman of the Northern Song, was distinguished in insight and bearing. When faced with affairs, he did not show his anger or pleasure. Twice he served as chief minister and took part in decisions on major matters, helping the state turn from peril to security. At a time when the court was beset by troubles, Han Qi found himself amid crises and difficult choices, yet he believed that nothing that ought to be done should be left undone. Someone urged him: “What you are doing is indeed admirable. But if it should fail, you may not only be unable to protect yourself; your family may have nowhere to live.” Han Qi sighed and said, “What kind of talk is that? A minister should serve his ruler with all his strength and put life and death aside. Success or failure is a matter of Heaven’s decree. How can one stop before acting simply because one fears in advance that the task may fail?” Everyone who heard these words was humbled and convinced. In putting forward his views, he looked only to where duty lay, without selfish bias or fixed opinions. He and Fu Bi, another renowned Northern Song statesman, both achieved great things. Thus, in those days, whenever people spoke of worthy chief ministers, they would name “Fu and Han.”

The Record says: Han Qi believed that nothing that ought to be done should be left undone. This accords exactly with what Mencius called “first attaining the mind.” A minister who “brings stability to the altars of state,” in other words, makes the country’s security his own concern. One explanation says: “A senior minister devises plans to secure the country just as a junior minister devotes himself to pleasing his ruler: each focuses on this and never forgets it. How could such a person be swayed by the country’s security or peril, or by personal gain and loss? If he could be swayed by security, peril, gain, or loss, he would not be someone worth working with.”

Bao Zheng, a renowned Northern Song statesman, was stern, forthright, upright, and resolute. He despised officials who were harsh and oppressive toward the people, and in handling public affairs he strove to be generous and fair. Though he detested evil, he always treated others with loyalty and forbearance. He did not casually agree with others, nor did he put on a pleasant face to ingratiate himself. In his entire life, he never wrote a private letter asking someone for a favor. After he became prefect of Kaifeng, powerful nobles, imperial relatives, and eunuchs all reined in their conduct, and officials and common people did not dare deceive him. Even children and women knew his name and called him “Commissioner Bao,” a title referring to his official post. A saying circulated in the capital: “When it comes to pulling strings, …”

Even if King Yama truly exists, Lord Bao’s smile—Bao Zheng, known as “Bao the Just” for his fairness and strict integrity—is as rare as the Yellow River running clear.

The recorder says: I have never seen or heard, from ancient times to the present, of King Yama and Lord Bao offering such admonitions. Yet judgments must be grounded in the human heart and accord with the principles of Heaven. If someone has been wronged, I will surely set matters right for him. If an upright person suffers a setback, I can find a way to help him clear his name. If there is truth to a claim, I will investigate it; if someone has been falsely accused, I will bring the truth to light. This is certainly no place where right and wrong go unexamined, where justice is ignored, where people may act as they please, or where they can evade punishment.

If King Yama truly holds office in the underworld, he must promote the good and condemn the evil. Otherwise, even Heaven would punish him—how much more so would people? In recent times, some have believed themselves powerful and influential, acting arrogantly without regard for consequences, so blindly that they seem unaware of anyone around them. Before long, however, they too meet their downfall. It is clear, then, that they can escape neither Heaven’s punishment nor King Yama’s judgment. And what can be said of all the bribery, backroom dealings, and calls on connections?

When Zhao Bian, a Northern Song official whose posthumous title was Qingxian, served as Investigating Censor, he impeached the powerful without hesitation and earned an imposing reputation. People in the capital called him “Iron Face.” He argued that the court should clearly distinguish between gentlemen and petty people: even a minor offense by a petty person should be firmly checked, while a gentleman who unfortunately errs should be protected and treated with care, so that he may fulfill his virtue. Many eminent officials of the time thereby found peace.

Later, Zhao Bian was appointed Transport Commissioner for Zizhou Circuit, and soon afterward transferred to Yizhou. Shu was remote, its people vulnerable, and officials often broke the law; officials in the prefectures and counties also exchanged gifts among themselves. He took the lead in reforming these practices, riding alone into Shu with only a zither and a crane for company. His administration was simple and accessible, and his methods apt. He was generous and incorruptible, disciplined and self-controlled. No one could tell what pleased or angered him. Each day he attended to government affairs, and each night he would dress formally, burn incense, and report to Heaven. Anything he dared not report to Heaven, he dared not do. He governed by adapting skillfully to local customs, varying his leniency and strictness as needed, and was especially admired in Chengdu. Whenever Emperor Shenzong of Song appointed a prefect, he often held Zhao Bian up as an example, urging the appointee to make the people’s welfare his foremost concern.

In his later years, Zhao Bian gained insight into the Dao. At the end of his life, he bid farewell to his son Zhao Ji. His words and expression remained composed, and he died peacefully while seated. Han Qi praised Zhao Bian as a model for the world, saying that no one could surpass him.

The recorder says: Did Zhao Bian, Duke Qingxian, achieve his cultivation of the Dao by taking elixirs and refining lead and mercury? It was because he had few selfish desires, cultivated his nature, and upheld an upright integrity that set him apart from worldly convention. As the saying goes, a person…

This is something one must understand. Some people cultivate their bodies until they resemble withered trees, withdraw from worldly life, and wander about without a trace. Who would not say they had attained the Dao (the Way)? Yet they do not realize that this brings no benefit to human relationships or moral instruction. It is merely a way to cling to life and escape the affairs of the world, so a noble person does not take this path. How much better to leave kindness among the people and extend one’s virtue to all things, so that there is no divide between court and common folk, or between inner life and outward conduct. For someone like Qingxian, though Heaven and Earth may reach their end, his good name and integrity will endure without limit. Small wonder people consider him beyond compare.

When Lu Zongdao served as Right Remonstrator, an official charged with advising the emperor, he spoke about government affairs without fear. Emperor Zhenzong once wrote the words “Lu the Upright” on a palace wall, showing that Lu had remained much in his thoughts. After Lu entered the Secretariat, he repeatedly offered counsel, setting out the benefits and harms of proposed measures.

At the time, Empress Dowager Mingsu was ruling from behind the curtain. She once asked what kind of ruler Wu Zetian had been in the Tang dynasty. Lu Zongdao replied, “She was a criminal against the Tang. She nearly brought the state and its altars of soil and grain to ruin.” The empress dowager said nothing. Later, a minor official named Fang Zhongxi asked that seven ancestral temples be established for the Liu clan. The empress dowager consulted her senior ministers, but none dared to answer. Only Lu Zongdao spoke up: “If seven temples are established for the Liu clan, what will the succeeding emperor think?” The matter was dropped.

The empress dowager once went with the emperor to Cixiao Temple and wanted her palanquin to travel in front of his carriage. Lu Zongdao said, “After death, one should follow one’s son. That is a woman’s proper place.” The empress dowager then ordered the palanquin to go behind the emperor’s carriage. During the seven years she assisted in governing, she was firm and impartial, and detested evil. The powerful nobles who abused their influence feared Lu and called him “Fish-Head Vice Minister of State.” “Fish-head” referred both to his surname, Lu, and to his bluntness, like a fish bone that is sharp and hard to swallow.

Xue Kui later succeeded him as Vice Minister of State. He too was forthright and would not go along merely to please others; when occasion demanded, he spoke plainly. When the empress dowager went to make offerings at the Imperial Ancestral Temple, she wanted to wear the ceremonial robe and crown worn by emperors at sacrifices. Xue Kui said, “If you wear these garments, how will you perform the rites before the late emperor?” When the empress dowager was gravely ill and near death, the emperor saw the ministers weeping and said, “The empress dowager is too ill to speak, but several times she has tugged at her clothes, as if entrusting us with something. What does this mean?” Xue Kui replied, “She is probably referring to the ceremonial robe and crown. How could she meet the late emperor below while wearing them?” The emperor understood his meaning, and in the end the empress dowager was buried in her own ceremonial robes.

The Hongdao Lu comments: Shi Yu, a Spring and Autumn period official renowned for his integrity, was recognized for it only after his death; Lu Zongdao’s integrity was plain to all while he was still alive. Moreover, senior ministers in government and remonstrating officials had different duties, and their views were not necessarily in agreement. How could anyone be called “Fish-Head Vice Minister of State”? This shows that Empress Dowager Mingsu’s faults far exceeded Wu Zetian’s. Even so, the two ministers did not need many words when they remonstrated. They argued from principle and went straight to the heart of the matter, and the court truly benefited from their counsel, both during their lives and after their deaths. Perhaps this was the influence of the ancestral traditions of our dynasty. Otherwise, how could their words and actions have inspired such awe?

Fu Yaoyu could write essays at the age of ten. Shi Jie and Yan Shu both admired him, saying, “You have sharp insight, an elegant bearing, and writing that is concise and reasoning that is thorough. You have the makings of a chief minister.” Wang Anshi later became a close friend of his as well. When the new policies were first introduced, Fu Yaoyu saw that some of them were unsound, so he repeatedly offered candid remonstrances.

After Cai Que was demoted, seven or eight people were dismissed, from senior ministers and palace attendants to other officials. The central government offices and local administrative bureaus were left almost empty as a result. Fu Yaoyu said, “Those among Cai Que’s faction who are guilty of the gravest offenses should indeed be expelled. The rest may all be pardoned. I hope Your Majesty will heed this advice and regard their affairs as no more than a gnat passing your ear. Do not let petty resentments disturb the harmonious and even Qi between Heaven and Earth. This is how a sage cultivates the utmost sincerity of De and enjoys lasting blessings.”

Later, Fu Yaoyu was transferred from his post as a remonstrance official to serve as a regional governor. Someone asked him what he would do if he found a law or decree unsound. He replied, “A gentleman is content in his post and carries out its duties. As a remonstrance official, it is his duty to offer advice; as a regional governor, he need only follow the laws.” He was later appointed vice director of the Secretariat. Emperor Shenzong and the Grand Empress Dowager both praised him, saying, “Vice Director Fu is upright and incorruptible, and has remained so throughout his life. He is truly a gentleman like gold and jade.” Sima Guang said to Shao Yong, “Integrity, uprightness, and courage are virtues rarely found together. Yet I have seen them in Fu Yaoyu.” Shao Yong replied, “What makes him so exceptional is that he is incorruptible without showing off, upright without being extreme, and brave while remaining gentle.”

The compiler of the Hongdao lu commented: “The phrase ‘a gentleman like gold and jade’ probably derives from the Book of Songs, ‘Qi’ao’ in the ‘Airs of Wei’: ‘Like gold, like tin; like a jade tablet, like a jade disc.’ The commentators explain that gold and tin stand for purity refined through tempering, while the jade tablet and disc stand for a naturally gentle and lustrous character. By this reckoning, Duke Wu of Wei need not be the only one to enjoy the reputation of a gentleman. In later times, some became arrogant and contentious, while others formed factions and parties. The world seemed to turn into a place where leopards and tigers prowled and thorns grew thick; customs seemed filled with demons and barbarians. In such times, a gentleman could only hone himself like a whetstone. How could he take uncarved jade and work it into a finished piece, bringing out its nature like gold and jade? Fu Yaoyu’s story lets us see not only the De he achieved; it also captures the rise and decline of the times and the ebb and flow of moral conduct.”

When Sima Guang served as an official in the Remonstrance Bureau, he once submitted three memorials to the emperor. One discussed the ruler’s De, which had three aspects: benevolence, understanding, and might. “Benevolence” does not mean being indulgent and lenient, or making excuses and yielding to everyone. It means spreading instruction, putting government in good order, caring for the people, and enabling all things to flourish; this is the ruler’s benevolence. “Understanding” does not mean being fussy and harsh, or scrutinizing everything. It means knowing what is right, recognizing danger and security, distinguishing the worthy from the foolish, and discerning right from wrong; this is the ruler’s understanding. “Might” does not mean showing off one’s strength…

This passage recounts what Sima Guang, a prominent minister of the Northern Song, said in advice to the emperor, along with later commentary.

The preceding text discusses faults such as being “stubborn and fierce.” It then turns to the ruler’s “martial virtue”: when something accords with the Dao, he should act decisively and without hesitation; he must not be deceived by the wicked or swayed by flatterers. This is the kind of “martial strength” a ruler should possess. Sima Guang said that he saw His Majesty sit upright with hands folded before his ministers, silently reflecting. The ministers each submitted proposals according to their own views, but His Majesty no longer asked about their advantages and drawbacks or examined their gains and losses. He simply approved them all. Sima Guang hoped that His Majesty would draw on his innate utmost benevolence, extend a radiance like that of the sun and moon, and rouse himself to resolute, vigorous judgment. Then it would not be difficult to attain the flourishing eras of Tang Yao and Yu Shun, or of the Three Dynasties of Xia, Shang, and Zhou.

His second piece of advice concerned the principles of governance, which he divided into three points: appointing officials, keeping promises of rewards, and carrying out punishments. The state selected people on the basis of reputation rather than actual achievements, and imposed penalties according to the letter of the rules without considering their intent. If rewards were given for reputation, people throughout the land would polish their reputations to seek merit. If punishments were imposed according to the written rules, they would exploit the wording to escape blame.

His third piece of advice was to select troops, arguing that an army should be maintained at high quality rather than in large numbers. The emperor’s response to the three memorials was to keep the first in the palace, send the second to the Secretariat, the agency of the chief ministers, and send the third to the Privy Council, which managed military affairs. Sima Guang also presented five precepts: preserve the foundations of the state, value time, plan far ahead, take care over small matters, and strive to be generous and kind. The emperor accepted his advice wholeheartedly.

The author of the Hongdao lu comments that Zhu Xi, a scholar of an earlier generation, praised Sima Guang, known as Lord Wen, for possessing wisdom, benevolence, and courage. His vision for governing the state was broad, he was learned, and his character upright. The author reflects that, judging from Zhu Xi’s words, what Sima Guang set out in the Court of Remonstrance must have been the fruit of his own understanding. Wisdom, benevolence, and courage—the three virtues that prevail throughout the world—are the gateway by which sages enter the Dao. The state of being free from anxiety, confusion, and fear was one sages earnestly sought throughout their lives. Sima Guang’s endowment from Heaven was undoubtedly rich, and his efforts in learning were undoubtedly steadfast. As for the “three matters and five precepts,” they were only the order in which his advice should be carried out; the root lay in the ruler’s virtue. Does the Doctrine of the Mean not say, “The means by which these virtues are put into practice is simply sincerity”? In this light, Sima Guang’s commitment to sincerity had a clear basis.

When Emperor Zhezong of Song ascended the throne, he appointed Sima Guang Left Grand Councilor, a position equivalent to chief minister. Sima Guang was already ill, while the Green Sprouts Law, the Service Exemption Law, and the Military Commanders Law—all measures of Wang Anshi’s reforms—remained in force, and the problems concerning Western Xia had not been resolved. Sima Guang sighed, “If these four evils are not removed, I will die with my eyes open.” He wrote to Lü Gongzhu, “I have entrusted my body to the physicians and my household affairs to my unworthy son. The affairs of state are the only matters I have not entrusted to anyone; I now entrust them to you.” Before long, the court issued an edict excusing him from the ceremony of appearing before the emperor, allowing him to travel in a sedan chair, and requiring him to attend court only once every three days.

When Sima Guang came to court for an audience, he humbly said that he did not dare accept such a great responsibility. Without seeing the ruler, he could not handle government affairs. After the imperial order was issued, Zikang supported him into court to answer the ruler’s questions. Hearing of this, the Khitans instructed their frontier officials: “Sima Gong is the chancellor of the Central Plain. Do not make trouble or provoke a border dispute.”

At the time, both ministers were modest and humble, and treated one another with virtue. Sima Guang also received visitors in person. His words and actions, and the plans he proposed, were all accepted. He was wholly intent on serving the state, personally attending to every matter without pause, day or night. When his guests saw how thin he had become, they reminded him that Zhuge Liang had fallen ill because he ate too little while taking on too much. Sima Guang replied, “Life and death are determined by fate,” and worked even harder. As his illness worsened, he could no longer remain fully conscious, yet he continued to give instructions over and over, as if in a dream. Everything he said concerned the court and the affairs of the realm.

The Hongdao Lu records that as Lü Xianke was dying, he wrote a letter entrusting Sima Guang with this charge: “There is still much that can be done for the realm. Junshi, you must strive.” When Sima Guang was near death, he too wrote a brief letter to Lü Gongzhu, saying, “The affairs of state have not yet been entrusted to anyone else. I now entrust them to you.” Their conduct at the end of life was much the same because what they held fast to in their hearts had always been one and the same. The Classic of Changes says, “The king’s ministers are steadfast amid hardship, not for their own sake.” This means that ministers give their utmost not for themselves, but for the state. They carried their duty through to the end, devoting themselves until their final moment. As long as they drew breath, their resolve to serve the state could not slacken for an instant. How, then, could they not continue giving instructions in their dreams?

During the Xining era, after an unusual celestial event, the emperor temporarily stopped holding court in the main hall, reduced his meals, and suspended music. Wang Anshi told him, “Such anomalies are all determined by Heaven’s will and have nothing to do with the gains or failures of human affairs.” When Fu Bi heard of this on the road, he sighed and said, “The only thing a ruler fears is Heaven. If he does not revere Heaven, what would he not dare to do? Surely this is an evil-minded person trying to advance a crooked doctrine and sway the emperor’s judgment, so that the ministers assisting in government and the remonstrance officials cannot do their utmost. This concerns the turning point between order and disorder in the realm; it must be urgently set right.”

Fu Bi therefore submitted a memorial of several thousand characters, drawing widely on examples from the Spring and Autumn Annals, the Great Plan, and historical accounts from ancient and more recent times. He also reasoned from human nature and common sense to show that this view was wholly mistaken. When he appeared before the emperor, he added, “Whether gentlemen or petty men advance or withdraw determines the flourishing or decline of the kingly Way. I hope Your Majesty will examine this carefully, and not let agreement or disagreement give rise to pleasure or anger, nor let pleasure or anger determine whom to appoint or dismiss. Your Majesty likes to send people to secretly investigate affairs outside the court, and this has allowed evil-minded people to gain influence. Matters within and beyond the court are now gradually changing; this must be an idea that petty men have put before Your Majesty. Petty men, by their nature, like to stir things up and create trouble, using the opportunity to pursue private gain. If the court keeps to established principles and every matter follows fixed rules, what could petty men gain from it?”

Alas!

The Hongdao lu comments: The emperor was wavering, while Lü Hui spoke frankly to remonstrate with him. This was like pointing out a deaf person’s ears to him, or blaming a blind person for not seeing clearly. Yet remonstrances should not be discarded for that reason. Times may change, but the principles of Heaven never vanish completely. Heaven itself is not to be feared, but its principles deserve reverence. An individual need not be indulged, but the people’s sentiments should be heeded. One person’s anger or delight cannot serve as a guide, but the anger and delight of officials and the common people can. A person’s appointment or dismissal at a particular moment is not enough to inspire confidence, but the judgment of all under Heaven and of later generations is worthy of trust. If such words are deemed useless and cast aside, all ages will be plunged into darkness like an endless night.

When Wang Anshi was in power, everyone thought him a suitable choice. Only Lü Hui believed that he did not understand the affairs of the day and was unfit for high office. At the time, Sima Guang also went to the imperial lecture hall, where the emperor listened to lectures on the classics and histories, and privately asked Lü Hui what he intended to say that day. Lü Hui replied, “I have an impeachment memorial hidden in my sleeve. It is directed against the newly appointed Vice Chief Councillor, Wang Anshi.” Sima Guang said in surprise, “Everyone is delighted to have gained such a talent. Why impeach him?” Lü Hui said, “Do you think so too, Junshi?” Junshi was Sima Guang’s courtesy name. “Although this man is famous for the moment, he is stubbornly attached to his prejudices, trusts treacherous people too readily, and enjoys being flattered. His words sound polished, but when put into practice, they are full of gaps. If he is placed in the position of Chief Councillor, assisting in the governance of the empire, the realm will surely suffer.”

Lü Hui then submitted a memorial: “A great villain can look like a loyal minister, and a great deceiver can look like a trustworthy person. Wang Anshi appears plain and unpolished, but conceals cunning within. He is arrogant and haughty, shows no respect for his sovereign, and secretly harms others with ruthless malice. I will cite several dozen examples. I am deeply concerned that Your Majesty will be swayed by his eloquence and, trusting and relying on him for a long time, lose sight of his true character and become unable to distinguish right from wrong. Once a great villain gains power, he draws in those like himself and drives out the worthy. When all the virtuous have been expelled, disorder and calamity arise. I privately fear that this man is the one who will bring mistaken harm upon the people of the realm.”

The Hongdao lu comments: How can a gentleman’s words be treated lightly? “He appears plain and unpolished, but conceals cunning within; he is arrogant and haughty, and shows no respect for his sovereign; he secretly harms others with ruthless malice.” These four phrases lay bare Wang Anshi’s true character, which neither the realm nor later generations can conceal. Given this, why be concerned with whether the emperor listens or whether the memorial is acted upon? If one says only that Lü Hui had foresight, Li Shizhong also discerned the signs in advance; Lü Hui was not the only one to offer admonition.

When Li Shizhong first took up a post in a prefecture or county, a government courier’s dispatch arrived with the news that Bao Zheng was to become Vice Chief Councillor. Someone remarked, “The court will have plenty of trouble from now on.” Li Shizhong said, “How could Lord Bao…”

Someone remarked, “Wang Anshi, the current magistrate of Yin County, has a great deal of white in his eyes and looks very much like Wang Shu. One day he will surely throw the realm into disorder.” It was not until twenty years later that these words were borne out; the prediction also came earlier than Lü Hui’s criticism.

Fan Chunren memorialized the throne, saying that Wang Anshi was extracting wealth and profit, leaving the people uneasy. In his memorial he wrote, “Must resentment be openly displayed before it can be seen? We should guard against trouble before it arises.” The emperor asked, “What do you mean by ‘resentment that cannot be seen’?” Fan Chunren replied, “It is what Du Mu meant when he said, ‘The people dare not speak aloud, but dare to grow angry in their hearts.’” The emperor said, “Well said.”

The emperor also asked Fan Chunren to assess affairs of state and set out, point by point, examples from past and present of good and bad governance that could serve as lessons or warnings. Fan then completed and presented his Explanation of the Book of Documents. He discussed the deeds of Yao, Shun, Yu, Tang, King Wen, King Wu, and the Duke of Zhou, saying that nothing was better for governing the realm than their example. He hoped the emperor would study it deeply and strive to put it into practice.

When the court introduced the equalized tax law in the six circuits, Fan Chunren again advised the emperor: “I have personally heard Your Majesty express the wish to restore the well-field tax system of the former kings. Yet now you are imitating Sang Hongyang’s equal transport system, a Han dynasty fiscal policy for regulating the movement and prices of goods, and have even assigned petty men to implement it. This extraction of wealth from the people will only make resentment accumulate and calamity arise. Wang Anshi has encouraged Your Majesty with methods for enriching the state and strengthening its armies. He seeks only immediate results and has forgotten what he once learned. In devising laws, he praises Shang Yang; when discussing wealth and profit, he acts against Mencius. He despises elders with experience, calling them rigid and old-fashioned. He dismisses public opinion as vulgar convention, regards those who disagree with him as unworthy, and treats those who please him as worthy.”

Fan Chunren submitted memorial after memorial in forceful terms, but the emperor did not send them to the outer court for discussion. Only then did he have all the memorials copied out and sent to the Central Secretariat. Wang Anshi was furious and asked for Fan Chunren to be punished more severely. The emperor said, “He has committed no offense. For now, give him a good post.” He therefore appointed Fan governor of Hezhong Prefecture.

The Hongdao Lu comments: Many have criticized the new laws, but no one has spoken more directly to the heart of the matter than Fan Chunren. Why, moreover, did Du Mu speak as he did? Qin employed Shang Yang, just as the emperor employed Wang Anshi; the methods Wang Anshi put into practice were precisely Shang Yang’s methods of governing.

Wang Anshi’s claim that “those who speak of the highest virtue are unlike ordinary people, and those who achieve great undertakings do not consult the crowd” reveals his stubbornness and lack of reason. His further claim that “ordinary people are content with old habits, while scholars are confined by what they have seen and heard” reveals his defiance of the common view and his deliberate pursuit of novelty. He pursued profit single-mindedly, until the people’s wealth was drained and their strength exhausted. How could their resentment be confined to words? Thus Du Mu’s judgment of Qin applies to Wang Anshi as well: in the end, he would harm the state, turn away from the right path, and make it impossible for the people to live in peace…

The calamities brought by foreign invasion would soon arrive as well, and the situation would be little different from what happened when the Qin dynasty fell. Alas, it is truly heartrending!

A prolonged drought had brought poor harvests, while the authorities imposed taxes and demanded payment with urgency and severity. In the northeast, disaster victims filled the roads, bringing the old and young with them, trapped in hardship and grief. Whenever windblown sand darkened the sky, people had not even a complete set of clothes to wear. City residents bought hemp seeds and wheat bran, mixed them with rice, and cooked them into gruel. They also gathered fruit from trees and dug up grass roots to stave off hunger. Some even wore cangues and shackles as they carried tiles and timber to sell, using the money to repay debts to the authorities. Their lines stretched on without end.

At the time, Zheng Xia, an assistant judicial officer from Guangzhou, was stationed at Anshang Gate to keep watch. He painted what he had witnessed and submitted the picture to the emperor. He wrote: “Your Majesty has campaigned in the north and south, and everywhere the signs point to victory. I submit this picture, believing that no other image could better show the suffering of the people throughout the realm: parents, spouses, and children unable to depend on one another; people forced to wander from place to place, sunk in hardship and left with no means to survive. I have recorded the scenes I see each day at Anshang Gate and painted them here. The reality is a hundred times worse than this. Yet even seeing it once with Your Majesty’s own eyes should be enough to bring you to tears. And this is only a small part of what can be seen a thousand li away. If Your Majesty looks at my picture and accepts my words, but takes no action within a single day, then please behead me, to punish me for deceiving my sovereign.”

After the memorial was submitted, the emperor studied the picture again and again, sighing deeply several times. He then hid it in his sleeve and carried it into the inner palace. That night, he lay awake for a long time. The next day, the emperor ordered that the capital’s government offices be opened and the “exemption from service” fees paid by merchants be waived. He directed the Three Departments, which oversaw finance, to review the affairs of the Market Exchange Office, responsible for managing trade. He ordered the Court of the Imperial Granaries to open the Ever-Normal Granaries, used to stabilize grain prices and provide relief during famine. He instructed the Three Guards to investigate military operations in the Xihe region, and ordered each circuit to report why its people had been displaced. He temporarily halted the enforcement and collection of payments under the Green Sprouts and Exemption from Labor laws, and abolished the Square-Field and Baojia measures, among others—a total of eighteen policies. When the people heard the news, they cheered and celebrated together.

Zheng Xia then gathered biographies of Wei Zheng, Yao Chong, Song Jing, Li Linfu, Lu Qi, and others from the Tang dynasty, divided them into two volumes, and titled the work Illustrations of the Deeds of Upright Gentlemen and Crooked Petty Men. He classified court officials who secretly resembled Li Linfu in opposing reform, while resisting the kind of conduct associated with Yao Chong and Song Jing, and entered them in the illustrations under their respective categories. He presented the work to Yang Zhongxin, an official of the Censorate. Yang visited Zheng Xia and said, “Censors are supposed to speak out and remonstrate, yet now they keep silent, while you, a gate guard, keep submitting memorials. It seems that the person responsible for speaking out is at the gate, while no one is left in the Censorate.” He took two volumes of memorials by renowned ministers from his sleeve and gave them to Zheng Xia, saying, “Use these to help upright men.”

The Hongdao lu comments: “A gentleman’s thoughts and actions do not go beyond his position.” Zheng Xia might be said to have gone beyond his proper role. Yet his words clearly distinguished praise from blame, and his picture was based on what he had personally seen and heard. Zheng Xia therefore deserves genuine praise. He was willing to give up his post as a review official and become a gate guard; his purpose can perhaps be understood from that choice.

Knowing full well that speaking this way might bring disaster, I am not acting rashly. Death is right before me, so I do not begrudge my life. We must do everything we can to help them. With disaster on the verge of striking, why should I begrudge my life if giving it might bring peace? The emperor had gone to bed, yet still could not sleep; his heart remained confused, and he could not come to his senses. Why was this? In the end, Yingzhou’s good name was passed down to later generations, while the calamity at Bianzhou struck with terrible force in its own time. A gentleman must never refuse to speak out merely because his official rank is low.

During Emperor Huizong’s reign in the Song dynasty, Chen He served as Right Remonstrant, an official responsible for advising the emperor. Tong Guan, Huang Jingchen, and Lu Hang conspired with one another and engaged in wicked deeds. Chen He said, “This concerns the foundations of the state’s security and survival. Since I have been entrusted with the duty of speaking out, how can I remain silent?” He submitted a memorial impeaching Tong Guan for abusing the emperor’s favor to seize power. Before he had finished speaking, Huizong rose and swept out. Chen He caught hold of the emperor and asked him to hear him out, tearing the front of the emperor’s robe in the struggle. Huizong said, “The Right Remonstrant has torn my clothes.” Chen He replied, “Your Majesty does not begrudge a torn garment. Why, then, would I begrudge my life? These men enjoy wealth and rank today, but Your Majesty will one day bear the calamity of the state’s collapse.” As his words grew more urgent, Huizong’s expression changed. “If you can show such devotion,” he said, “what have I to worry about?” When an attendant asked the emperor to change his clothes, Huizong refused. “Keep this garment,” he said, “as a reward for a minister who speaks frankly and serves with loyalty.”

The Hongdao lu comments: “We have heard of ministers correcting an emperor’s faults, but never of one tearing the front of the emperor’s robe. Is that worth recording? The turmoil of the Song dynasty began with Wang Anshi and Lü Huiqing, then was brought about later by Tong Guan and Wang Fu. The ministers around the emperor had failed so badly that the state was already falling apart. Even a worthy minister like Zhongshanfu could not have saved the situation.”

When Li Ruoshui was serving as Vice Minister of Personnel, Emperor Qinzong of the Song dynasty went once more to the Jin army’s camp. The Jin soldiers forced the emperor to put on foreign clothes. Li Ruoshui clung to the emperor, weeping, and denounced the Jin as dogs and swine. The Jin soldiers dragged him out, bound him, and threw him to the ground. The Jin general Nianmohe ordered, “Li, the Vice Minister, must be kept safe and unharmed.” But Li Ruoshui steadfastly refused to eat. Someone urged him, “The situation can no longer be turned around. Submit to them today, and tomorrow you can enjoy wealth and rank.” He sighed and said, “There cannot be two suns in the sky. How could I have two lords?” His servant also tried to comfort him: “Your parents are old. Bear with this for a while; perhaps you may still return home to see them.” Li Ruoshui rebuked him: “I have already ceased to think of my own household. A loyal minister serves his ruler and gives his life in loyalty; he must never serve another lord. Still, my elderly family may be frightened, so they should be told gradually.” Later, the Jin discussed installing Zhang Bangchang as ruler and summoned Li Ruoshui to confer with them. Li denounced and cursed them to their faces. The supervising general then struck his mouth until his lips were split. He died only after his neck had been broken and his tongue severed, at the age of thirty-five. The Jin…

People said to one another, “When the Liao dynasty fell, more than ten people died rather than betray their loyalty. In the Southern Court—that is, the Song dynasty—there was only Li the Attendant.”

When Liu Ge, a Song official who rose to become Academician of the Hall for the Cultivation of Governance, was serving in Zhending, Jin troops invaded the area. The local elders cried out, “If Academician Liu were still here to defend us, how could this disaster have happened?” The Jin then learned even more of his reputation and resolved to win him over.

After the capital fell, Liu Ge was taken to the Jin camp. The Jin sent their chancellor, Vice Director Han Zheng, to lodge him at Shousheng Monastery south of the city. Han said, “The chancellor knows of you and intends to appoint you.” Liu Ge replied, “I would rather cling to life and serve two dynasties than go on living.”

Han Zheng said, “The army has discussed installing someone from another family, and they want to make you Vice Director of the Department of State Affairs. You may take your family with you. Rather than die alongside your companions, go north and win wealth and rank.” Liu Ge looked up to the heavens and cried out, “Can such a thing really be?” He then returned to his room and wrote a note explaining what had happened, which he entrusted to a close attendant to deliver to his son.

His son Liu Ziyu and the others immediately bathed and changed their clothes. They poured a cup of wine, then hanged themselves. The Jin lamented Liu Ge’s loyalty and integrity, and buried him on the hill south of the monastery. When his body was taken up for burial eighty days later, his face still looked as though he were alive.

The Hongdao lu records: “To this day, the people still praise Li the Attendant of the Southern Court and Academician Liu of Zhending. Compared with the likes of Zhang Bangchang and Liu Yu, they are no more than things to be spat out and cast away. What is there to say about them?”