Sources of Chinese Tradition, Volume 2 Read online

  However, with those who later became princes it was different. They believed that since they held the power over benefit and harm, there was nothing wrong in taking for themselves all the benefits and imposing on others all the harm. They made it so that no man dared to live for himself or look to his own interests. Thus the prince’s great self-interest took the place of the common good of all-under-Heaven. At first the prince felt some qualms about it, but his conscience eased with time. He looked upon the world as an enormous estate to be handed on down to his descendants, for their perpetual pleasure and well-being. . . .

  This can only be explained as follows: In ancient times all-under-Heaven were considered the master4 and the prince was the tenant. The prince spent his whole life working for all-under-Heaven. Now the prince is master and all-under-Heaven are tenants. That no one can find peace and happiness anywhere is all on account of the prince. In order to get whatever he wants, he maims and slaughters all-under-Heaven and breaks up their families—all for the aggrandizement of one man’s fortune. Without the least feeling of pity, the prince says, “I’m just establishing an estate for my descendants.” Yet when he has established it, the prince still extracts the very marrow from people’s bones and takes away their sons and daughters to serve his own debauchery. It seems entirely proper to him. It is, he says, the interest on his estate. Thus he who does the greatest harm in the world is none other than the prince. If there had been no rulers, each man would have provided for himself and looked to his own interests. How could the institution of rulership have turned out like this?

  In ancient times men loved to support their prince, likened him to a father, compared him to Heaven, and truly this was not going too far. Now men hate their prince, look on him as a “mortal foe,”5 call him “just another guy.”6 And this is perfectly natural. But petty scholars have pedantically insisted that “the duty of the subject to his prince is utterly inescapable.”7 . . . As if the flesh and blood of the myriads of families destroyed by such tyrants were no different from the “carcasses of dead rats.”8 Could it be that Heaven and Earth, in their all-encompassing care, favor one man and one family among millions of men and myriads of families? . . .

  If it were possible for latter-day princes to preserve such an estate and hand it down in perpetuity, such selfishness would not be hard to understand. But once it comes to be looked upon as a personal estate, who does not desire such an estate as much as the prince? Even if the prince could “tie his fortune down and lock it up tight,”9 still the cleverness of one man is no match for the greed of all. At most it can be kept in the family for a few generations, and sometimes it is lost in one’s own lifetime, unless indeed the life’s blood spilled is that of one’s own offspring. . . .

  It is not easy to make plain the position of the prince, but any fool can see that a brief moment of excessive pleasure is not worth an eternity of sorrows.

  On Ministership

  Suppose there is someone who, in serving the prince, “sees [what to do] without being shown and hears without being told.”10 Could he be called a [true] minister? I say no. Suppose that he sacrifices his life in the service of his prince. Could he then be called a [true] minister? I say no. “To see without being shown and hear without being told” is “to serve [one’s prince] as one’s father.”11 To sacrifice one’s life is the ultimate in selflessness. If these are not enough to fulfill this duty, then what should one do to fulfill the Way of the Minister?

  The reason for ministership lies in the fact that the world is too big for one man to govern, so governance must be shared with colleagues. Therefore, when one goes forth to serve, it is for all-under-Heaven and not for the prince; it is for all the people and not for one family.

  When one acts for the sake of all-under-Heaven and its people, then one cannot agree to do anything contrary to the Way even if the prince explicitly constrains one to do so—how much less could one do it without being shown or told! And if it were not in keeping with the true Way, one should not even present oneself to the court—much less sacrifice one’s life for the ruler. To act solely for the prince and his dynasty and attempt to anticipate the prince’s unexpressed whims or cravings—this is to have the mind of a eunuch or palace maid. “When the prince brings death and destruction upon himself, if one follows and does the same, this is to serve him as a mistress or some such intimate would.”12 That is the difference between one who is a true minister and one who is not.

  But those who act as ministers today, not understanding this principle, think that ministership is instituted for the sake of the prince. They think that the prince shares the world with one so that it can be governed and that he entrusts one with its people so that they can be shepherded, thus regarding the world and its people as personal property in the prince’s pouch [to be disposed of as he wills].

  Today only if the toil and trouble everywhere and the strain on the people are grievous enough to endanger one’s prince do ministers feel compelled to discuss the proper means for governing and leading the people. As long as these do not affect the dynasty’s existence, widespread toil, trouble, and strain are regarded as trifling problems, even by supposedly true ministers. But was this the way ministers served in ancient times, or was it another way?

  Whether there is peace or disorder in the world does not depend on the rise or fall of dynasties but upon the happiness or distress of the people. . . . If those who act as ministers ignore the “plight of the people,”13 then even if they should succeed in assisting their prince’s rise to power or follow him to final ruin, they would still be in violation of the true Way of the Minister. For governing the world is like the hauling of great logs. The men in front call out, “Heave!,” those behind, “Ho!”14 The prince and his ministers should be log-haulers working together.15 . . .

  Alas, the arrogant princes of later times have only indulged themselves and have not undertaken to serve the world and its people. From the countryside they seek out only such people as will be servile errand boys. Thus from the countryside those alone respond who are of the servile errand-boy type; once spared for a while from cold and hunger, they feel eternally grateful for his majesty’s kind understanding. Such people will not care whether they are treated by the prince with due respect (lit., according to the proper rites governing such a relation) and will think it no more than proper to be relegated to a servant’s status. . . .

  It may be asked, Is not the term minister always equated with that of child?16 I say no. Father and child share the same vital spirit (psycho-physical force, qi). The child derives his own body from his father’s body. Though a filial child is a different person bodily, if he can draw closer each day to his father in vital spirit, then in time there will be a perfect communion between them. An unfilial child, after deriving his body from his father’s, drifts farther and farther from his parent, so that in time they cease to be kindred in vital spirit. The terms prince and minister derive from their relation to all-under-Heaven. If I take no responsibility for all-under-Heaven, then I am just another man on the street.17 If I come to serve him without regard for serving all-under-Heaven, then I am merely the prince’s menial servant or concubine. If, on the other hand, I have regard for serving the people, then I am the prince’s mentor and colleague. Thus with regard to ministership the designation may change.18 With father and child, however, there can be no such change.

  On Law

  Until the end of the Three Dynasties there was Law. Since the Three Dynasties there has been no Law. Why do I say this? Because the Two Emperors and Three Kings19 knew that all-under-Heaven could not do without sustenance and therefore gave them fields to cultivate. They knew that all-under-Heaven could not go without clothes and therefore gave them land on which to grow mulberry and hemp. They knew also that all-under-Heaven could not go untaught, so they set up schools, established the marriage ceremony to guard against promiscuity, and instituted military service to guard against disorders. This constituted Law until the end of t
he Three Dynasties. It was never laid down solely for the benefit of the ruler himself.

  Later rulers, once they had won the world, feared only that their dynasty’s lifespan might not be long and that their descendants would be unable to preserve it. They set up laws in fear for what might happen, to prevent its coming to pass. However, what they called “Law” was laws for the sake of one family and not laws for the sake of all-under-Heaven. . . .

  The Law of the Three Dynasties “safeguarded the world for the sake of all-under-Heaven.”20 The prince did not try to seize all the wealth of the land, high or low, nor was he fearful that the power to punish and reward might fall into others’ hands. High esteem was not reserved for those at court; nor were those in the countryside necessarily held in low esteem. Only later was this kind of Law criticized for its looseness, but at that time the people were not envious of those in high place, nor did they despise humble status. The looser the law was, the fewer the disturbances that arose. It was what might be called “Law without laws.” The laws of later times have “safeguarded the world as if it were something in the [prince’s] treasure chest.”21 It is not desired that anything beneficial should be left to those below but rather that all blessings be gathered up for those on high. If [the prince] employs a man, he is immediately afraid that the man will act in his own interest, and so another man is employed to keep a check on the other’s selfishness. If one measure is adopted, there are immediate fears of its being abused or evaded, and so another measure must be adopted to guard against abuses or evasions. All men know where the treasure-chest lies, and so the prince is constantly fretting and fidgeting out of anxiety for its security. Consequently, the laws have to be made tight, and as they become tighter they become the very source of disorder. These are what one calls “un-Lawful laws.”

  Some say that each dynasty has its own laws and that succeeding generations of the royal house have a filial duty to follow the ancestral laws. Now “un-Lawful laws” are originally instituted because the first prince of a line is unable to curb his own selfish desires. Later princes, out of the same inability, may break down these laws. The breaking down may in itself do harm to all-under-Heaven, yet this does not mean that the original enactment of the laws did no such harm. Yet some still insist that we get involved in this kind of legalistic muck, just to gain a little reputation for upholding the regulations22—all of which is just the “secondhand drivel” of vulgar Confucians.23 . . .

  Should it be said that “there is only governance by men, not governance by law,”24 my reply is that only if there is governance by law can there be governance by men. Since un-Lawful laws fetter men hand and foot, even a man capable of governing cannot overcome inhibiting restraints and suspicions. When there is something to be done, men do no more than their share, content themselves with the easiest slapdash methods, and can accomplish nothing that goes beyond a circumscribed sphere. If the Law of the early kings were still in effect, there would be a spirit among men that went beyond the letter of the law. If men were of the right kind, all of their intentions could be realized; and even if they were not of this kind, they could not slash deep or do widespread damage, thus harming the people instead [of benefiting them]. Therefore I say that only when we have governance by Law can we have governance by men.25

  Establishing a Prime Minister26

  The origin of misrule under the Ming lay in the abolition of the prime ministership by [the founder] Gao Huangdi.27

  The original reason for having princes was that they might govern all-under-Heaven, and since all-under-Heaven could not be governed by one man alone, officials were created for the purpose of governing. Thus officials shared the function of the prince.

  Mencius said, “The Son of Heaven constituted one rank, the duke one, the marquis one, and viscounts and barons each one of equal rank—five ranks in all. The ruler constituted one rank, the chief minister one, the great officers one, the scholars of the highest grade one, those of the middle grade one, and those of the lowest grade one—six ranks in all.”28 In terms of external relationships,29 the Son of Heaven was removed from the duke to the same degree that the duke, marquis, earl, and viscount and baron were in turn removed from each other. As to internal relationships,30 the prince was removed from the chief minister to the same degree as the chief minister, great officers, and scholars were in turn removed from each other. Rank did not extend to the Son of Heaven alone and then stop, with no further degrees of rank.

  In ancient times during the regencies of Yi Yin and the Duke of Zhou,31 these men, in serving as prime ministers, acted for the emperor, and it was no different from the great officers’ acting for the chief ministers, or the scholars acting for the great officers. In later times princes were arrogant and ministers servile, so that for the first time the rank of emperor fell out of line with those of the chief ministers, great officers, and scholars. . . .

  In ancient times the prince treated his ministers with such courtesy that when a minister bowed to the emperor, the emperor always bowed in return.32 After the Qin and Han this practice was abandoned and forgotten, but still when the prime minister presented himself to the emperor, the emperor rose from the throne, or, if he were riding, descended from his carriage.33 When the prime ministership was abolished there was no longer anyone to whom respect was shown by the emperor. Thus it came to be thought that the Hundred Offices34 were created just for the service of the prince. If a man could serve the prince personally, the prince respected him; if he could not, the prince treated him as of no account. The reason for having officials being thus corrupted, how could the reason for having princes be understood?

  In ancient times the succession passed not from father to son but from one worthy man to another. It was thought that the emperor’s position could be held or relinquished by anyone, as was the prime minister’s. Later the emperor passed his position to his son, but the prime minister did not. Then, even though the sons of emperors were not all worthy to rule, they could still depend on the succession of worthy prime ministers to make up for their own deficiencies. Thus the idea of succession by a worthy man was not yet entirely lost to the emperors. But after the prime ministership was abolished, the moment an emperor was succeeded by an unworthy son, there was no worthy person at all to whom one could turn for help. Then how could even the idea of dynastic succession be maintained?

  It may be argued that in recent times matters of state have been discussed in cabinet, which actually amounted to having prime ministers, even though nominally there were no prime ministers. But this is not so. The job of those who handled matters in the cabinet has been to draft comments of approval and disapproval [on memorials] just like court clerks. Their function was inconsequential enough to begin with, yet worse still, the substance of the endorsement came from those closest to the emperor35 and was then merely written up in proper form. Could you say that they had real power?

  I believe that those with the actual power of prime ministers today are the palace menials. Final authority always rests with someone, and the palace menials, seeing the executive functions of the prime minister fall to the ground, undischarged by anyone, have seized the opportunity to establish numerous regulations, extend the scope of their control, and take over from the prime minister the power of life and death, as well as the power to award and confiscate, until one by one all these powers have come into their own hands. . . .

  The best that could be done by the worthy men in these cabinets was to talk about “following the ancestral example.” This was not because the ancestral example was always worthy to be followed but because no one took the position of these men seriously, so they were forced to use the prestige of the royal ancestors as a means of restraining their rulers and thwarting the palace menials. But the conduct of the royal ancestors was not always what it should have been, and the craftier of the palace menials could find a precedent for each of their own bad practices, saying they were “following the ancestral example.” So the argument abou
t following ancestral law became absurd. If the prime ministership had not been abolished, the practices of wise kings and ancient sages could have been used to mold the character of the ruler. The ruler would have had something to fear and respect, and he would not have dared to flout it.

  There follows a detailed discussion of how governmental business should be handled by the prime minister’s office and the various ministers so as to ensure that all petitions and memorials from the people are properly acted on.

  Schools

  Schools are for the training of scholar-officials. But the sage kings of old did not think this their sole purpose. Only if the schools produced all the instrumentalities for governing all-under-Heaven would they fulfill their purpose in being created. . . . Indeed, schools were meant to imbue all men, from the highest at court to the humblest in country villages, with the broad and magnanimous spirit of the classics. What the Son of Heaven thought right was not necessarily right; what he thought wrong was not necessarily wrong. And thus even the Son of Heaven did not dare to decide right and wrong for himself but shared with the schools the determination of right and wrong. Therefore, although the training of scholar-officials was one of the functions of schools, they were not established for this alone.

  Since the Three Dynasties, right and wrong in the world have been determined entirely by the court. If the Son of Heaven favored such and such, everyone hastened to think it right. If he frowned upon such and such, everyone condemned it as wrong. . . . Rarely, indeed, has anyone escaped the evil tendencies of the times; consequently, people are apt to think the schools of no consequence in meeting the urgent needs of the day. Moreover, the so-called schools have merely joined in the mad scramble for office through the examination system, and students have allowed themselves to become infatuated with ideas of wealth and noble rank. . . .