← Back to 梁書

卷三十八 列傳第三十二 朱异 賀琛

Volume 38: Zhu Yi; He Chen

Chapter 38 of 梁書 · Book of Liang
← Previous Chapter
Chapter 38
Next Chapter →
1
Book of Liang, Volume 38, Biography 32
2
Zhu Yi; He Chen
3
Zhu Yi, whose courtesy name was Yanhe, came from Qiantang in Wu Commandery. His father Xun won renown for steadfast courage and rose to be an aide to Qi’s Prince of Jiangxia and magistrate of Wuping.
4
While Yi was still small, his maternal grandfather Gu Huan held him on his knee and told Yi’s grandfather Zhao Zhi, "This child is no common talent—he will uphold your clan." By his teens he ran with gamblers in the lanes and became something of a trial to the township. When he matured he checked his ways, took up study under masters, and worked through the Five Classics, excelling in the Rites and the Changes while reading broadly in belles-lettres and history; he also picked up assorted skills—games, chess, writing, and calculation were alike his forte. At twenty he presented himself at court; Director Shen Yue tested him face to face and teased, "You are young—why so stingy? Yi faltered, unable to catch the point of the joke. Then Yue explained: "In all the realm only literary craft, the Changes, and chess matter—and you walk off with every one at once; that is stinginess indeed." In that same year he memorialized that Jiankang ought to establish a prison bureau modeled on the Court of Review. The throne ordered the Secretariat to examine the plan in detail, and it was approved.
5
便 使 使 西 使
By longstanding custom, men did not enter office until twenty-five. Yi was just twenty-one, yet an exceptional order promoted him to clerk in Yang Province’s council office. Before long the court called for exceptional talent; Five Classics Erudite Ming Shanbin recommended Yi, writing, "I have seen Zhu Yi of Qiantang—young in years, yet already mature in conduct. In solitude he shows no wandering mind; in quiet he keeps the composure of a host receiving guests—his bearing is vast, his presence steep and bright. A golden mountain rises ten thousand feet, yet its summit is still unscaled; a jade ocean stretches a thousand fathoms, and no eye can plumb it. His jade is newly polished, his brocade freshly woven—strike him and the tone rings true; set him a task and he answers on the spot. Judge his trustworthiness and action: he is scarce even among ten households; set him to carry weight over a long road and he will go a thousand li." The Founding Emperor received him, heard him lecture on the Classic of Filial Piety and the Book of Changes, and delighted in him, telling his attendants, "Zhu Yi is indeed exceptional." Later, meeting Ming Shanbin, he said, "Your recommendation hit the mark." He called Yi to regular duty in the Western Secretariat and shortly made him an erudite of the Imperial Academy as well. In that year the emperor personally expounded the Classic of Filial Piety and appointed Yi to hold the book and read. He rose to gentleman in the secretariat’s ceremonial office, served concurrently as a palace secretariat attendant, and climbed through chamberlain for dependencies, right commandant of the heir’s guards, and supernumerary palace attendant.
6
使
In Putong year five the court mounted a major northern campaign; Yuan Faseng, Wei governor of Xuzhou, sent envoys to offer his province in submission, and the throne ordered officials to test the offer’s sincerity. Yi argued: "Ever since our northern campaigns began, triumph has piled on triumph; Xuzhou weakens daily, and everyone wants to blame Faseng—so, terrified of ruin, he cannot be faking his surrender." The emperor dispatched Yi to answer Faseng and directed the field armies to cooperate, all under Yi’s direction. On arrival Yi found Faseng obeying the court’s orders exactly as he had predicted.
7
簿 便
In Zhongdatong year one he became palace attendant. When Zhou She died, Yi inherited control of state planning—frontier appointments, court ritual, national statutes, and every edict and order flowed through him. Memorials from every direction, the registers of each bureau, and files awaiting judgment and reply heaped up on his desk. He drafted as he scanned, glanced at a case and sent it on for debate—swift, fluent, brush never still—and within moments the stack was cleared.
8
便 使 使 使
The emperor dreamed the north was pacified; courtiers rejoiced. At dawn he told Yi, who answered, "It foretells the unification of the empire." When Hou Jing came in with a surrender offer, the court was convoked to debate; Vice Director Xie Ju and others opposed acceptance, while the emperor leaned toward yes but could not settle his mind; one dawn he went early to Wude Pavilion and murmured, "The realm has known such peace—if we take his lands now, is that wise? Once disorder starts, regret will come too late. Reading the emperor’s mind, Yi answered immediately: "Under your sage rule, answering heaven above, every survivor in the north looks to you with longing— only lacking the chance to reach you. Now Hou Jing holds more than half of Wei, brings loyalty and tribute, and returns to the sacred court—is this not heaven inclining his heart and men rewarding his design? Weigh motive and fact together, and much deserves praise. Reject him now and you may extinguish the hopes of all who would follow. The point is plain; I pray Your Majesty will not hesitate." The emperor embraced Yi’s counsel, remembered his dream, and accepted Hou Jing. After Prince Zhenyang fell into Wei hands, messengers returned saying Chancellor Gao Cheng wished to restore peace. The throne ordered deliberation; Yi again favored peace, and the emperor agreed. That sixth month he sent Jiankang magistrate Xie Ting and direct attendant Xu Ling north to negotiate amity. Hou Jing, then at Shouchun, repeatedly petitioned to sever relations and recall the mission. He wrote to Yi as well, his tone sharp; Yi answered solely by citing the emperor’s orders. In the eighth month Hou Jing rebelled, naming his cause the punishment of Zhu Yi. Yi mustered three thousand men and, when Hou Jing came, still held the Grand Marshal’s gate with them.
9
使 殿 宿
Before the revolt, Prince Fan of Poyang and Governor Yang Yarén of Si had sent repeated warnings; Yi, believing Hou Jing isolated and clinging to the court’s protection, would never dare rebel, told their couriers, "The Prince of Poyang will not even let the state keep one guest! And buried their reports, so the capital was caught unprepared. When the enemy reached the walls, every official inside the city reproached him. The crown prince wrote the "Rhapsody on the Besieged City," whose final lines run: "They of high caps and thick soles, feasting on rich fare and riding plump horses, climb the scarlet courts of purple heaven and thrust open the golden gates of jade halls—counseling at the inner audience, wielding the blessings and terrors of law—till the suburbs bristle with ramparts and the realm knows no rest. Who are the wolves and jackals? Who are the vipers and basilisks?" The lines plainly targeted Yi. Stung by shame and anger, Yi took ill and died at sixty-seven. The edict read: "The late Central Commander-in-Chief Yi bore a great and open mind and ample talent; for years he counseled within the command tent. He was to have upheld the court’s order and long borne our commission. Suddenly he left the world, and our sorrow is twofold. Let him be mourned as Palace Attendant and Right Vice Director of the Secretariat, with one set of secret burial vessels. All funeral needs are to be furnished as required." Formerly secretariat posts were not granted posthumously; when Yi died the emperor grieved and debated what honor to give. An attendant who admired Yi submitted: "For all his long service, his lifelong wish was to wield the law." Honoring that lifelong wish, the emperor granted this exceptional title.
10
簿
For over thirty years Yi stood at the center of power, reading every nuance of the emperor’s mood, flattering and aligning with his wishes until favor became absolute. From supernumerary palace attendant through palace attendant he wore the sable at four offices; from right guard commandant to commander-in-chief he led the imperial escort at four commands—unprecedented in living memory. Yi and his sons strung mansions from Chaogou to Qingxi, with gardens and pools for delight, and on leisure days entertained guests there. Tribute from every quarter packed his storehouses with riches. He was tight-fisted by nature and never gave freely. Fine foods spoiled in his kitchens; each month he threw away ten-odd cartloads of delicacies, and would not even share them with his sons in other residences. His exegeses on the Rites and Changes, ritual manuals, and collected works ran to more than a hundred chapters, most of which perished in the rebellion.
11
His eldest son Su rose to erudite of the National University; his second son Run served as a secretariat clerk. Both perished in the chaos.
12
便
He Chen, whose courtesy name was Guobao, came from Shanyin in Kuaiji. His uncle Qian, commandant of footsoldiers, was a preeminent scholar of the time. As a boy Chen studied under Qian; hear a passage once and he understood it. Qian admired him and often said, "This child will win rank through the classics." After Qian’s death the family was poor; Chen shuttled to Zhuji, buying and selling grain to live. In idle hours he kept at his books and became a master of the Three Rites. Qian had once taught a village school; now the pupils attached themselves to Chen.
13
殿 西滿
During Putong the Prince of Linchuan, as inspector, took him on as libationer and clerk. On first reaching the capital Chen was summoned to Wende Hall; the emperor, pleased by their talk, told Vice Director Xu Mian, "Chen indeed inherits a scholarly house." He was made a gentleman of the prince’s establishment, then imperial academy erudite, and rose to central guard army aide and secretariat attendant, sharing in ritual matters. He advanced to direct attendant with regular rank while keeping his attendant post. He also served as recorder to the Western Expedition Prince of Poyang and concurrently left assistant director of the Secretariat, confirmed in the latter after a year. The throne ordered him to draft the "New Method of Posthumous Titles," still applied today.
14
Then the crown prince argued that in the final days of greater mourning one might cap one’s son or marry off one’s daughter. Chen objected in these words:
15
The crown prince holds that "at the end of greater mourning one may crown one’s son and marry one’s daughter, but not crown oneself or marry oneself." Weighing this against the Record of Rites, I remain unconvinced. Marriage and capping are ceremonies a father performs; only the fatherless may crown themselves. Hence in both greater and lesser mourning the phrasing is "crown the son" and "marry the daughter"; it does not mean one may act for a son but not for oneself. At the end of lesser mourning one may already marry on one’s own account, yet the text also says "crown the son and take a wife"—which makes the sense plainer still. So the passage first names the two grades, each time specifying crowning the son and marrying the daughter, and only in the closing clause reveals the right to marry oneself. If lesser mourning allows self-marriage, greater mourning must allow self-capping too—the text speaks briefly but the point is clear. If one claims that because the father is in greater mourning and the son in lesser, the lighter grade lets one crown and marry the son while the heavier forbids self-capping and self-marriage—then at the end of lesser mourning the Record would not need to stress that father and son wear different grades, nor repeat "crown the son and marry the daughter. If lesser mourning allows self-marriage but greater mourning never mentions self-capping, the inference is that in greater mourning one cannot celebrate for oneself—only crown a son or marry off a daughter. The ban on festive rites during mourning exists so joy and grief never collide. A son in the final days of lesser mourning may receive cap or spouse, yet the father should still perform those rites for him. If a father at the end of greater mourning may crown his son and marry his daughter, joyous and mourning obligations no longer clash; and if they do not clash, why forbid crowning or marrying on one's own account? If self-capping and self-marriage are blocked, how can crowning the son or marrying the daughter alone be allowed? To allow crowning the son but deny self-capping—that is what puzzles Chen.
16
The crown prince further argues: "If one in lower infant mourning with lesser mourning may not marry, then in reduced greater mourning one may not crown a son or marry a daughter either." Consider that logic: if reduced greater mourning forbids crowning or marrying for a child, reduced lesser mourning must forbid self-capping and self-marriage too—so every reduced grade, greater or lesser, would bar all cap and marriage. The Record should then say simply "reduced mourning forbids it," not single out lower infant mourning alone. Yet the text names lower infant mourning, not reduced mourning in general—and that choice is deliberate. Marriage out or adoption into another line can lower the grade twice; an adopted son, toward his birth sisters, wears only greater mourning; and when a noble mourns a commoner, rank reduces the bond again to lesser mourning. For capping and marriage the rule is the same. A daughter given away is received by another house; an heir who continues another's main line owes that house the heavier bond—mourning is thinned on one side and thickened on the other. Even when a bond that was full mourning is reduced twice, one still follows lesser mourning—and may cap or marry. When full mourning drops one grade to greater, or greater to lesser, the steps are orderly; at the end of mourning, cap and marriage are treated alike. Only lower infant mourning expressly forbids marriage—likely because the deceased was an infant. Early death stirs deep sorrow; the child neither joined another clan nor bore another line's succession—lest tender years and light dress erase the bond too fast, the text forbids marriage to preserve the original weight of kinship. Hence for every reduced grade, cap and marriage are the same; only lower infant mourning expressly forbids marriage. On that reading one cannot claim that every reduced greater mourning forbids cap and marriage. The Record says "lower infant mourning, lesser mourning": "lower infant" cannot cover middle or upper tiers, and "lesser mourning" cannot swallow greater mourning. If every reduced greater and lesser grade, and middle and upper infant mourning too, all forbade cap and marriage, the Record could not stop at "lower infant mourning with lesser mourning is forbidden." That, I think, is not what the text means. Here too Chen remains unconvinced.
17
The court adopted Chen's view.
18
殿
He was promoted to supernumerary attendant of the discretionary cavalry. By old custom ministers of the southern secretariat wore no sable; Chen was the first to wear it. Soon he became censor-in-chief and continued to share in ritual matters as before. Chen's family was already wealthy; he purchased a former imperial mansion and was impeached and dismissed. He was soon restored as left assistant director of the Secretariat, then attendant gentleman of the yellow gates and concurrent erudite of the National University—before taking the latter he was made regular-attendance adviser of the discretionary cavalry, still left assistant director and still in charge of ritual. In every post he helped shape suburban rites and much of the court's ceremonial code. Audiences with Emperor Gaozu often ran long, and secretariat wits joked, "He who goes up to court and never comes down—that's Elegant He." Chen's carriage was so polished that the nickname stuck. He rose to regular attendant of the discretionary cavalry and kept his ritual duties.
19
By then every man in power under Gaozu trimmed his conduct with flattery and fraud, corroding government; Chen submitted a sealed memorial, item by item, saying:
20
I have enjoyed Your Majesty's favor yet rendered no service worthy of a single post; I hold a remonstrance office yet have not offered one loyal word. I know that "a loving father keeps no useless son, a wise ruler keeps no useless minister"—and so I lose my appetite and sigh through the night. I venture to set out the times, point by point below. This is not polished counsel, only an honest opening of the heart. I have locked it in my breast and told neither wife nor child. My words are unadorned; if they are rejected I will burn the draft. If Your Majesty will read them, please weigh them yourself. If they miss the mark, bear with my blunt folly.
21
使 使
First: the north has submitted and the armies stand down—this should be a season to gather and teach the people, yet registers shrink everywhere. Nothing is more urgent. Depopulation touches every district, but beyond the passes it is worst: commanderies buckle under provincial oversight, counties under commandery exactions; officials harry one another and govern only by racing to meet levies. People cannot endure the burden; they flee—some to great clans, some to fortified estates—not from choice but from necessity. Taxes beyond the passes are already light, yet annual rents still pile in arrears while families lose their homes—is this not the magistrates' failure? The east stands depopulated on the registers chiefly because envoys are too many. When dogs need not bark at night, the people can live in peace. Today in large commanderies and counties a dozen boats bearing imperial orders are nothing unusual; and the remotest hamlets and farthest districts are reached without exception. Each envoy harasses whatever lies under his charge; how much more when such visits layer upon layer—the harm to the people is profound. Worn-out county magistrates fold their hands while envoys plunder; and brutal senior officials use the chance to grow greedier still. Even an honest man finds the commandery pulling his elbows. Magistrates keep their seals but face no real review; commoners quit their trades and wanderers multiply—edicts recall them to the fields and taxes are forgiven again and again, yet they never return home.
22
使 滿 便 使 使
Second: the sage ruler's pity for the suffering and his will to save the drowning reach the four quarters—even insects he would spare, how much more the people. Yet provinces and commanderies show no care for the people, so the realm fixes its hope on Your Majesty alone—as the saying has it, "loving you as parents, looking up as to sun and moon, revering you as spirits, fearing you as thunder." When the body aches, medicine must follow—how can the sickness go untreated? Today magistrates and governors are greedy and cruel, rarely honest—because extravagant custom drives them to it. Luxury makes them so. Extravagance has many faces; I name two of the worst. Before a table ten feet across, the tongue savors only one taste. Today's feasts compete in display—fruit heaped like hills, dishes laid like brocade; a terrace garden's yield cannot pay for one banquet, yet host and guest eat only their fill and leave the rest to rot before they quit the hall. Courtesans and dancers once had fixed ranks; the "two eight" maidens were reserved for pacifying barbarians. Today men who keep women observe no rank—even the humblest pack their houses with concubines, greedy for graft, vying in silk and finery. Officials who should shepherd the people race to strip them; though they amass tens of millions, a few years after leaving office the fortune is gone. Banquets alone can ruin several families' worth; and song and dance demand capital of a thousand gold. Spending mounts like hills; pleasure lasts a breath. Then they regret having taken too little before and spending too much now. Give them wings again and they tear all the harder—how perverse! Other luxuries fill a hundred lists; habit deepens daily—how can we ask men to stay honest and officials to stay clean? Impose stern bans, teach frugality, demote ornament, impeach showy waste, until all see it and change what they desire. People too regret excess—they only fear falling behind the crowd and force themselves on; when they cannot keep up, they still bear the cost. Correct the wind and the fault rights itself—easier than turning the hand. Supreme rule begins in plain simplicity; to cure ornamental excess nothing beats thrift.
23
便 使
Third: Your Majesty bears the people's weight and takes the four seas to heart, unafraid of toil that callouses hand and foot or hardship that wastes the flesh—forgetting hunger as the sun sets and sleep at midnight. Every office may memorialize; above, no blame for pressing down, below, no fault for pressing up—a government surpassing a hundred kings. Yet petty men, once they may speak behind the curtain, scheme for promotion and never speak for the realm's whole design. They forget that each post exists to set disorder right and mend what is lacking—with a heart of clarity and forbearance, affairs find their balance. They split hairs, split hairs again, wield petty cleverness, grasp beyond their share, prize harshness and chase by the letter—seeming dutiful while building private power. Crime multiplies, evasion grows clever, posts empty and duties rot—long corruption and fresh treachery spring from this. Demand fair results, purge slanderous hearts—then the lower ranks rest, the throne is secure, and lucky scheming ends.
24
使 使 使
Fourth: northern campaigns have emptied the treasury. The realm is at peace, yet you have no leisure day by day—and there is reason. When the state is strained, cut tasks and spending; fewer tasks nurture the people, less spending piles wealth—in five years of peace the realm can grow rich. Sustained over years, this is how Fan Li destroyed Wu and Guan Zhong made Qi hegemon. Examine each office inwardly; let every department audit its own charge. In the capital—bureaus, offices, lodges, markets—of ten duties cut five, or of three cut one; state ceremony and armaments once needed to be many; today they should be few. What future need may bring can wait; what present need does not require—cut it all. Throughout the realm—garrisons, relays, lodges, offices—whether obsolete, useless, or harmful—abolish what should be abolished; trim what should be trimmed. Every project, every outlay of treasure—not urgent, or pressing the people into labor; Every requisition and levy, however vital to state finance, must be judged on its merits and made to spare the treasury and spare the people. Unless spending is curbed, wealth cannot accumulate; unless the people are given rest, their strength cannot be gathered. Wealth is hoarded so it may be spent greatly; the people are rested so they may bear great toil. Call waste trivial and spending never stops for a year; call corvée slight and conscription never ends for a year. Harass the people and expect them to multiply and prosper—that cannot be done. Drain the treasury while heaping up taxes, and deceit and theft flourish; abuses never end and the people cannot be commanded—then there is no talking of power or far-reaching aims. For more than twenty years since Putong, penal labor and corvée have surged without pause, and popular strength has been worn to nothing. The Northern Wei are reconciled and the borders are quiet. Fail now to give the people real rest, let them multiply, cut state expense, and stock the coffers, and when a neighbor turns hostile and the frontier must be held, the realm will already be hollow and the people exhausted—what grand design can you then pursue? Wait until crisis comes to plan, and you will find you are already too late.
25
The memorial was read; Gaozu flew into a rage, called the chief clerk to his side, and dictated a rebuke to Chen:
26
So your bold reputation precedes you—exactly as we anticipated. Yet I have ruled more than forty years. Memorials from the remonstrance office, everything brought to my ears—your complaints are nothing new. I have long meant to act on them and hold to that resolve, but am crushed by daily urgency and only grow more bewildered. You bear high rank and wide learning. You should not be like Xi Rong, collecting a reputation and peddling it in the streets. Boasting, "I can remonstrate and lay bare what is right and wrong, and I resent that the court will not heed me." Or quoting the "Li Sao": "Far and wide, no true man—so the chariot will not travel a thousand li." Or quoting the Laozi: "Few know me, and therefore I am honored." Such counsel is cheap; everyone can mouth it. The tiger goblet at New Year—that whole crowd. Name your charges one by one. Open your heart and refresh mine.
27
You wrote: "The north has submitted. This should be a time to let the people settle and thrive, yet they cannot live in peace—that is the fault of local officials." I am no sage of discernment. I stumble into wrong after wrong. My ears and eyes do not reach everywhere. I blame only myself and cannot escape that blame. Yao was a sage, and still the Four Evils sat in court; how then can I, of all men, have none? A great marsh holds dragons and snakes alike. Not every officer is worthy, but not every one is corrupt. Name them plainly: which governor is brutal, which prefect greedy and cruel, which magistrate savage; which minister, which Orchid Terrace clerk, which recorder or attendant is crooked or on the take. State the facts and they can be promoted or removed. If Shun had listened only to anonymous memorials, the Four Evils would never have been exposed and Yao would have remained a blind ruler forever.
28
使使 使 使 使
You also say, "The east is depopulated because envoys are too many." Which envoys do you mean? You say, "Weak magistrates can only stand by while others plunder; and crafty senior officials use the chance to grow greedier still." Who are they? Name them. And who are the upright officials being blocked? The throne seeks worthy men as a thirsty man seeks water. That the honest should be obstructed would be extraordinary. List them at once. We will promote them without delay. Most missions answer lawsuits or move army grain. Urgent business leaves little choice but to send men. Without envoys, how is justice to be done across the land? How is real business to get done? Villains multiply by the day while the good are shut out. Do you imagine the realm can then rest easy? To govern without envoys and still set everything right—that would be splendid. Feet that need not walk, wings that need not beat, yet arrival everywhere; obedience without coercion—what could be more fortunate? You have raised the matter, so you must know the remedy. Reveal your secret art. Do not hide wisdom and leave the realm in the dark.
29
使 使 便
You also say, "Local greed and cruelty all come from extravagant food." On greed, cruelty, and waste I have already replied. Han Wendi loved his terrace garden and Deng Tong's wealth filled the realm. I rule no worse and feel no shame. Nor is it true that commoners eat beyond their station. I considered this carefully at the beginning of Tianjian. Those who work hard prosper; the idle and careless grow poor. A man who builds his estate and eats what he earns—how does that harm the realm? Wastrels who neglect their fields end penniless and useless—what good is that to the realm? You speak as if all wealth were the same, but it is not. The miser may be rich yet can do nothing with it; the spendthrift rich—what injury do they do the state? Relax the law and excess will never end; tighten it and who can see what happens behind closed doors? Search every home and the scrutiny becomes unbearable. You want officials never to knock on a door—is that possible? Men threatening one another for money only breed worse trouble. That is no way to govern. If you mean the court by this, I know nothing of it. For years we ceased slaughtering for sacrifice. Court feasts were vegetables only. I thought I had found a fair balance of frugality and dignity. Cut more and you will invite the reproach of the "Cricket." If you mean Buddhist merit works, their food comes from the palace gardens. Even merit feasts cost little. One melon becomes a dozen dishes, one vegetable a dozen flavors—yet without artifice there are few kinds. What harm is there in variety? It does not touch the state at all. Wealth lawfully gained and lawfully spent is nothing to be ashamed of. Apart from state banquets I have not eaten public rations for many years, and even the palace women have gone without them for a long time. Every building project avoids the materials bureau and state craftsmen. I hire labor and pay for the work myself. Money lately raised has served everyone: the people profit, the state profits, I profit, and merit works are funded. Perhaps you judge me by yourself, and that is why you do not understand. What I receive is open to the world. Do not argue in evasions.
30
使使使使 使西 使西 使 便
You also complain that courtesans are too many. That is the censors' business, though the cases differ. The great mostly keep musicians, but even meritorious lords and the two palace wings—one seldom hears of a household keeping "two-eight" girls or hoarding courtesans. Name every offender. Let the responsible offices strip away their arrogance. You also wrote: "They regret having taken too little, and if given wings again they tear all the harder—how perverse!" Courage and cowardice are not the same, nor are greed and integrity. Use the brave for advance, the timid for defense, the greedy for the border, the honest for civil rule. If Bo Yi alone had held the western river, would anything have been accomplished? If Wu Qi had only nurtured the people, he would never have succeeded. Had Wu Qi not been used as he deserved, the western river would never have been won. The same is true of civil and military men today. Use their predatory talents and you cannot avoid employing them heavily again. The court did not give them wings so they could prey harder. You call the court perverse yet still serve it willingly. Ask yourself what makes it perverse. You say, "They should be guided by frugality." And, "Perfect government begins in plain simplicity." That is well said. Confucius said, "When the ruler's person is upright, things are done though he does not command; when his person is not upright, they will not obey though he commands." I have kept no harem for more than thirty years and have known no debauchery. By my own reckoning I have not slept in the same room with a woman for more than thirty years. My living space is no larger than a bed. Ornament does not enter the palace. Everyone knows this. I have never drunk and never cared for music, so at court gatherings no instruments are played. The ministers have seen it themselves. I rise in the deep night to work. When business is light I may finish before noon. When it is heavy I eat only after the sun has slanted west. As a rule I eat once, by day or night, at no set time. When I am ill I may eat twice. Once my belly measured more than ten spans around. Now I am scarcely two feet about the waist. The old belt is still here. I do not lie. For whom did I do this? For the sake of the living—that is why. The Documents say, "Arms and legs are the man; worthy ministers make the sage." Had I such ministers, I might have been a passable ruler. As it is I remain no better than the lowest grade of ruler. "Without being ordered it is done" is only an empty phrase. You press your case so hard that I scarcely know how to reply.
31
使 鹿
You also say, "Every office memorializes, scheming for promotion." Who are they? Name them. Which are these deceptive affairs again? If outsiders may no longer present memorials, is that right in principle? No men, no offices—can you abolish the offices themselves? Abolish offices and men fall into disorder; men in disorder—and the realm is secure? Reject the meal because the throat hurts—that is the case. Cut off memorials—who then answers for the charge? Where will you find men fit to be trusted with everything alone? The ancients said it plainly: "Listen to one voice and treachery is born; trust one man alone and chaos follows. Think of Er Shi handing everything to Zhao Gao, or Yuandi's heir giving the realm to Wang Mang. Call a deer a horse, and in the end Yan Le brings ruin at Wangyi; Wang Mang too shifts the Han throne from its base.
32
You wrote "splitting hairs for flaws"—whose flaws? Name him. "Splitting muscle to distinguish principle"—who is that? When you speak of "severity" and "driving by the cord," who are they? You also named "bureaus, offices, lodges, markets"—which should be abolished? Which should be cut? "State ceremony and armaments"—what should be trimmed? What is not needed now? "Garrisons and relays in all four quarters"—which do no good? Which harm the people? Where do you build at the cost of forced labor? Where is treasure spent on what is not urgent? What of "summons and recruitment"? What of "levies and requisitions"? The court has never done such things. What is your plan to bring them to rest? Let each charge be named and reported in full.
33
便
You wrote, "Fail now to give the people real rest, and plan only when crisis comes—you will know you are already too late." By your own logic you are overworking the people right now—where? You say "the realm is hollow and the people exhausted." If that is so, name the facts. Do not speak in empty generalities. Who can talk must also act. Ways to enrich the state and strengthen the army, plans to spare the people and cut corvée, orders for near and far—list them all. Fail to list them and you deceive the throne with nothing but lip service. Before you judge others, judge yourself. Only the spotless may sit in judgment. You may not slander everyone within and without the palace and still refuse to speak plainly. I await your next memorial. I shall read it again, send it to the Masters of Writing, and publish it throughout the realm—so the bad sheep are driven off, the harmful horse stilled, and renewal shines once more.
34
Chen took the edict and could only apologize. He did not dare remonstrate again.
35
祿
In time he was made Minister of the Grand Treasury. In the second year of Taiqing he became General of the Cloud Cavalry and chief clerk to the Prince of Xuancheng, commander of the central army. When Hou Jing marched on the capital the prince withdrew into the inner palace and left Chen and Marshal Yang Xun to defend the Eastern Palace. The rebels soon broke the city and unleashed slaughter. Chen was speared but lived. They found him, bore him in a litter to the palace gate, and demanded Wang Ke, Vice Director, and Zhu Yi, Commander of the Army, begging them to open the gates to the rebels. Wang Ke and the others reproached him until he wept and fell silent. The rebels carried him back to Zhuangyan Monastery to heal his wounds. The next year the inner city fell. Chen fled to his home district. That winter, when the rebels marched on Kuaiji, they seized Chen again and sent him to the capital as Household Counsellor with Golden Seal and Purple Ribbon. He later fell ill and died at sixty-nine.
36
He wrote the Exegesis of the Three Rites, the Stalled Meanings of the Five Classics, and many works on ritual—over a hundred chapters in all.
37
西
His son Xu, early in Taiqing, left a post as aide to the Marquis of Xichang, Equal in Rank to the Three Dukes, to serve as Administrator of Bashan, and died there when rebellion swept the region.
38
[1]
Yao Cha, Chen Director of the Ministry of Personnel, said: Xiahou Sheng once said, "The scholar's trouble is not knowing the classics; Once the classics are clear, rank and office are like picking up a mustard plant from the ground." Zhu Yi and He Chen both rose from humble beginnings; the classics brought them to high rank in their day—exactly as he said. Yet Yi sought favor and power, held office, and could not guide his lord by the Way—only by pleasing and flattering. When the rebel ravaged the realm, the blame was truly Yi's. Once disaster was plain his guilt went unnamed; even in death his honors were lavish. No punishment fell, rewards ran wild—how can a state encourage good and restrain evil like this? A gentleman therefore knows that the chaos of Taiqing could not have stopped short of this. Editorial footnote marker in the source text.
39
The full text has been collated against the Zhonghua Shuju edition of 《Book of Liang》, May 1973.
← Previous Chapter
Back to Chapters
Next Chapter →