Luxuriant Gems of the Spring and Autumn

ON THE whole, the five chapters of group 2, “Monarchical Principles,” express an intellectual viewpoint quite different from those of group 1.¹ Those chapters were based on close readings of the Spring and Autumn, whereas these chapters are made up of essays and essay fragments that mention neither the Spring and Autumn nor any other texts of the Confucian canon.² The ideal ruler described in these chapters is not defined by the praise-and-blame methodology of the Spring and Autumn but instead is crafted from different raw materials and embodies different ideals and practices, as their titles suggest.

The influences at work in these chapters include Laozi’s emptiness and nonpurposive action; Shen Buhai’s technique of assessing officials by comparing their official titles with their actual performances; Han Feizi’s notion of impartial rewards and punishments, as well as his ideal of a remote and mysterious ruler visible to his subjects only through the actions of his ministers; Mozi’s emphasis on elevating the worthy; and Guanzi’s techniques of inner cultivation. They consequently employ a number of technical terms that do not generally appear in other chapter groups of the Chunqiu fanlu or, when they do appear, carry decidedly different meanings from those found here. These terms include shen (spirit or spiritlike), ming (brilliant), wuwei (non-action), and jing and jing qi (quintessence and quintessential qi).3 Moreover, political techniques are recommended for their efficacy alone, as their legitimacy derives from their ability to preserve the power and authority of the ruler and nothing more. Although humaneness, righteousness, and other moral values appear in these chapters, they do not have an especially privileged status. Such characteristics distinguish these writings from other materials in the Chunqiu fanlu, and they raise compelling and challenging questions concerning their provenance, dating, and authorship.

Chapter 18, “Departing from and Conforming to the Fundamental,” prescribes the roles of the ruler and his ministers in accordance with their respective correlates: Heaven and Earth. Although separate, with each performing its proper duties, they ultimately form a unity, fitting together like two halves of a tally: “Heaven elevates its position yet sends down its manifestations; conceals its form yet reveals its light.”⁴ These Heavenly activities generate the pairs of contrasting qualities of being spiritlike (dark and mysterious) yet brilliant (bright and clear), and honorable (revered) yet humane. The ruler emulates these qualities of Heaven:

When the ruler implements such techniques, he “takes holding to ‘no action’ to be his Way, and takes holding to ‘no self’ to be his treasure.”⁶ This enables him to rely completely on his officials, whose activities are likened to the ruler’s feet, which do not move; his mouth, which does not speak; and his mind, which does not scheme.

The second half of the chapter has suffered damage, and portions of the original essay have been lost. What remains describes the roles of the ministers, who complement the Heavenly characteristics of the ruler by taking Earth as their model. Just as the Way of Earth “exposes its form and reveals its true nature,”⁷ so that its qualities may be discerned and judged, the ministers are to value trustworthiness and fully manifest their true nature so that likewise the ruler is able to discern and judge them. When such techniques of bureaucratic control are implemented, the essay concludes, the Way of the King will be “awe inspiring and faultless.”⁸

A second, longer, and more complete recension of this essay is found near the end of the Chunqiu fanlu in chapter 78, “The Conduct of Heaven and Earth” (in Su Yu’s reconstructed version, which we endorse).⁹ Chapters 18 and 78 are the first of several pairs of linked chapters that appear throughout the text. We call these “linked chapters” because they have a common topic, parallel passages, and numerous similarities of wording. Their common features suggest that they are interrelated in some fashion. For example, they might be two recensions of an originally identical essay or perhaps two distinct essays, one of which reworks an earlier original.¹⁰

Chapter 19, “Establishing the Originating Spirit,” brings together materials of varying degrees of completeness from no fewer than six essays. We designate them as sections 19.1 through 19.6 to indicate that they are largely independent of one another. We believe that these six essays or essay fragments were collected into a single chapter given the descriptive title “Establishing the Originating Spirit” because they address a common theme: the ruler’s spirit or spiritlike qualities. But they appear to do so in different ways and with different aims. Section 19.1 begins by asserting that the ruler is “the origin of the state,” but in contrast to the activist interpretation of this concept that appears in Dong Zhongshu’s memorials (collected in his biography in the Han shu and translated in appendix B of this book), here the concept is defined as follows: “Uttering words and initiating undertakings, he is the axial mechanism of the myriad things. The operation of the axial mechanism is the trigger of honor and disgrace. If it errs in the smallest degree, a team of horses cannot put it right again.”¹¹ To avoid error, the ruler is advised to cultivate a non-active and quiescent state: “His will resembles [the stillness of] dead ashes; his body resembles [the emptiness of] abandoned clothing; he calms his quintessence and nourishes his spirit.”¹² Still and silent, not only will the ruler not err but he will remain beyond the judgment and possible manipulation of his ministers. He occupies the optimal position to judge the ministers, which he does “by relying “on the internal to verify the external, … the insignificant to verify the significant, and so without fail will ascertain the true reality of things.” The section concludes by referring to this technique of rulership as “opening and closing.” This expression is found in a number of early texts, such as the Laozi and Guanzi.¹³ The following passage from the Huainanzi, however, best illuminates how the expression functions as a metaphor for the ruler’s critical role in governance:

This seemingly arcane expression about “opening and closing” compares the ruler to the key of a door; that is, the ruler controls his ministers as the key controls the door. What the ruler wields is very small, but his positional advantage makes it very powerful. With the key, the ruler can open the door to observe and assess the conduct of his ministers yet remain closed off to them as he keeps himself secluded and mysterious. Since they cannot see him, he is forever beyond the reach of their possible machinations.

Section 19.2, one of only two sections in this group of chapters that promotes the sorts of Confucian virtues and policies readily identified with Dong Zhongshu,16 depicts the ruler as the revered “root of the state,” possessing spiritlike qualities that give him the ability to transform his people below. As the root of the state, the ruler must serve the three great roots of the myriad things—Heaven, Earth, and humankind. These, in turn, are identified with filial piety and fraternal love, food and clothing, and ritual and music. The three are intimately interconnected: “The three assist one another just as the hands and feet join together to perfect the body; it is not possible to dispense with one of them.”¹⁷ Ignoring any one of the three roots spells inevitable social chaos and disaster for the ruler. Thus a brilliant ruler and worthy lord respectfully attends to the three roots by promoting these decidedly Confucian policies. By doing so, his government will take on the characteristics of a family: the people will be like sons and brothers, not daring to act on their own authority; the ruler will be like a parent, not having to rely on grace to demonstrate his love for the people or on sternness to command them. And like children who cannot bear to leave their parents, should the ruler fall on hard times and be forced to relinquish his throne, “the people will strap their children on their backs and follow him.”¹⁸ This is because there is simply nothing better than virtue for administering the state: “It is sweeter than cake or honey and firmer than glue or lacquer.”¹⁹

Section 19.3 begins by claiming that the ruler is “the authentication of the state.” He occupies a position of leadership but does not use its strategic advantage. What remains of this essay is only a fragment, however; it breaks off before it can fully develop its opening claims, and its conclusion is missing.

Section 19.4, another essay fragment, returns to the ruler’s qualities of being honorable and spiritlike and recalls chapter 18 but describes the ruler somewhat differently. Here, being honorable is the means by which the ruler effects his policies, and being spiritlike is the means by which he extends his transforming influence. To achieve these desired qualities, the ruler must employ worthies and unify their minds.

Section 19.5 similarly advocates recruiting worthy men and unifying their minds but justifies these policies through yet another set of correlations drawn between Heaven and the sage: “[T]he Way of Heaven strives to make its quintessence flourish; the sage strives to make his worthies numerous…. Only after unifying its yang can [Heaven] extend its spirit; only after unifying their minds can [the sage] extend his achievements.”²⁰

The last section of this chapter, 19.6, also promotes the ruler’s spiritlike qualities and encourages him to prize and emulate them. In contrast to the arguments made earlier in the chapter, here the ruler’s spiritlike qualities are identified with his mysterious and unfathomable qualities. Like the spirits, he cannot be apprehended through sight or hearing. The chapter contends that these qualities are advantageous for the ruler because they enable him to stand beyond the discernment and judgment of others. Thus the ruler resides in yin, occupying a hidden position, but he is yang because his status is superior to that of his ministers. His ministers reside in yang because they occupy an exposed position, but they are yin because their status is inferior to that of their ruler.

Chapter 20, “Preserving Position and Authority,” consists of three short essays that recommend different techniques closely associated with the Hanfeizi. Section 20.1, from which the title of the chapter is taken, aims to preserve the ruler’s position and authority in relation to his people. It argues that the successful ruler does so by building on the intuitive preferences of the people—that is, what they love and what they hate.²¹ This ensures that the ruler will be authoritative and awesome. In turn, these qualities enable the ruler to impose prohibitions and regulations on the populace, rewarding what they love and prohibiting what they hate. This will safeguard his strategic advantage and place of honor above those over whom he governs. By thus manipulating the preferences of the common people, the ruler can encourage and awe the people and thereby regulate them in order to preserve his position and authority as the supreme source of power in the world.

Section 20.2 pairs power and fearsomeness as the ruler’s defining characteristics. It contends that those qualities must not be shared with or delegated to others under any circumstances, as this will inevitably lead to chaos and rebellion. Power is the basis on which the ruler subjugates his people, and authority is the means by which he rectifies his ministers.

Section 20.3 emphasizes the ruler’s non-active and quiescent qualities, maintaining that these are the true wellsprings of his power. “Silent and voiceless, quiescent and formless,” the ruler takes “the ministers’ speech as his voice” and “the ministers’ tasks as his form.” The ruler, “with an empty mind and in a quiescent state,” is perfectly positioned to listen to and observe the metaphorical echoes and shadows of his ministers and thereby implement rewards and punishments by assessing their actual performance against the official titles they hold: “The lord clings to their titles and investigates their true substance in order to assess their actual performance.”22 This will ensure an impartial basis for bestowing rewards and imposing punishments. That will inspire the ministers to maintain the various distinctions in their duties and compete to advance their meritorious deeds while the ruler is carried along by their achievements. This, the essay concludes, is a technique of governance that spontaneously extends the lord’s strength.

As the title suggests, chapter 21, “Investigating Achievement and Reputation,” enumerates various strategies to test bureaucratic personnel. Because of the radical discontinuities in its content, we have divided the chapter into four sections. Whether these four segments of text were once part of a much longer continuous essay from which substantial portions have been lost over the centuries, or whether the compiler of the text simply collected four fragments on the subject of how best to assess the merit of officials as a basis for rewards and punishments, is now impossible to ascertain. The first and most complete section, 21.1, uses the Way of Heaven to describe the theoretical underpinnings of an examination system that tests officials in order to establish appropriate rewards and punishments, not in accordance with the longevity of their tenure in office or based on their noble rank (their main qualification for office), but determined by the merit they have accumulated in their service to the government: “The Way of Heaven accumulates and collects an abundance of quintessence in order to be radiant; the sage accumulates and collects an abundance of excellence in order to be meritorious.”²³ Therefore, just as the sun and moon must depend on the radiance of quintessence to generate their brilliance, the sage must rely on the merit of many acts of goodness by his officials to generate an age of Great Peace. He must assess his positional advantage, establish his authority, adapt to the current situation, and institute standards of righteousness. In doing so, the ruler must follow the natural tendencies of the situation to bring benefit to the world, as “the spring qi engenders the vegetation,” and to eradicate wrongdoing, as “the rivers and streams flow into the sea.”²⁴ It does not matter if he departs from the practices of former sages, because although sages possess “different methods, their virtue is the same.” The best way, however, to bring benefit to and eradicate harm in the world is to establish a clear system of evaluation: “Investigate the merit [of the officials] and demote or promote them; examine the affairs [that they have managed] and employ or dismiss them…. Reward those who have merit; punish those who commit crimes.”²⁵ When such a system is established, the distinction between worthy and unworthy officials is not determined by empty reputation but by an official’s record of actual performance.

The remaining three sections of this chapter describe a more detailed program for implementing these ideals. Section 21.2 addresses how much time should be spent testing officials of varying ranks and how often they should be assessed. It distinguishes high-ranking from low-ranking officials and recommends that more time be devoted to high-ranking officials. Accordingly, as one moves up the three ranks of government described in this section—from the Lords of the Land, through the provincial governors, to the Son of Heaven—officials are tested monthly, seasonally, and annually. Section 21.3 lists which factors should be considered when testing officials: degree of nobility, salary, duties, length of service, achievements, merits, and faults. These determine how officials should be ranked. Section 21.4, which, like the preceding section, has suffered considerable textual damage and can be translated only tentatively, discusses in greater detail the re-rating of officials. As we discuss at length later, this material may express the views Dong Zhongshu and his disciples.

Chapter 22, “Comprehending the State as the Body,” once again argues that the best state is one that promotes worthy men to staff its bureaucracy. Like chapter 19.2, it evokes associations that are consistent with the known views of Dong Zhongshu, although it couches those associations in a matrix of self-cultivation that is not quite like anything found in works that unquestionably can be attributed to him. In this chapter, promoting worthies is viewed not as the basis for enhancing the ruler’s power but as the basis for spreading Virtue throughout the realm. The essay justifies this political ideal by making analogies of the body to the state not seen in previous chapters. For instance, those who regulate their bodies consider accumulating quintessence—the purest form of qi—as their treasure, just as those who regulate the state consider accumulating worthies—the purest men—as their Way. Those who wish to accumulate pure qi must do so by emptying their mind and stilling their body; those who desire to acquire worthy men must do so by humbling and abasing themselves. The quintessential qi that enables the adept to achieve enlightenment and longevity is analogous to the worthy men who enable the sagely ruler to extend his Virtue and achieve Great Peace.

The political techniques recommended in these chapters also appear foreign to those promoted by Dong Zhongshu in writings of unquestioned authenticity that have survived from the Han, such as those preserved in Han shu 56. But the corpus of authentic Western Han writings is not very large, and much of what has survived dates from the reign of Emperor Wu. This has led some scholars, including Sarah Queen, to entertain the possibility that chapters 18 through 22 preserve materials that are best understood as expressions of the syncretic stream of political thought that enjoyed imperial patronage during the formative years of the Han. These currents of thought might include Daoism as defined by the Han historians Sima Tan and Sima Qian in their famous essay on the “Six Traditions,”²⁶ as well as the poorly understood and much debated tradition known as Huang-Lao, “the teachings of the Yellow Emperor and Laozi.”²⁷ Although the early Han emperors summoned Confucian scholars to the central court to take up posts as Erudites, just as Dong Zhongshu was summoned under Emperor Jing, imperial patronage before the time of Emperor Wu was granted mainly to adepts identified with Huang-Lao techniques. The Shiji and Han shu record that numerous officials and politically prominent figures studied Huang-Lao doctrines and practiced Huang-Lao techniques. Indeed, some of the clearest and most unambiguous indications of official support for Huang-Lao practitioners dates from the reign of Emperor Jing, and many of Dong’s associates were identified with Huang-Lao learning. In the Huang-Lao atmosphere of Emperor Jing’s court, the Confucian Erudite Dong Zhongshu might have trimmed his sails to the prevailing winds and written in a Huang-Lao vein himself. But there is no evidence that he did so and some evidence that he did not.

Ban Gu’s biography of Dong Zhongshu in the Han shu recounts that during this time, Dong “first transmitted his interpretations of the Spring and Autumn according to the Gongyang tradition” and embraced his teaching and scholarly agenda with such dedication that “scholars regarded him as a teacher to be respected.” Thus in a period dominated by Huang-Lao, Dong appears to have been actively transmitting his own interpretations of the Spring and Autumn to an ever-widening group of disciples and winning a reputation for doing so among the most prominent scholars in the capital.²⁸ We see no reason to doubt that he remained steadfast in his advocacy of Gongyang Learning.

In our work on the Chunqiu fanlu, we have generally avoided the term “Huang-Lao” and instead have designated chapters 18 through 22 as the “Monarchical Principles” group. We believe that the term “Huang-Lao” has not been helpful as an analytical rubric for dealing with early Han materials. Despite a flurry of scholarly activity and debate over the question of Huang-Lao in the 1990s and the early 2000s,²⁹ no scholarly consensus has emerged about exactly which doctrine(s) were associated with Huang-Lao and which (if any) received or archaeologically recovered texts should be classified as Huang-Lao works. We therefore wonder not whether chapters 18 through 22 are a “Huang-Lao group” but why these chapters are included in the Chunqiu fanlu.

As we noted earlier, of the chapters in this group, chapter 19.2 and chapter 22 are the most consonant with what we know from reliable sources about the teachings of and policies advocated by Dong Zhongshu. One can imagine him crafting an essay promoting the kinds of Confucian virtues and rituals described in chapter 19.2. Similarly, one can envision him arguing, as in chapter 22, that the ruler must be humble and self-abasing if he hopes to attract worthy men to serve him so that he may extend his virtue and usher in an age of Great Peace. (In contrast, the overt emphasis on inner cultivation that pervades chapter 22 seems atypical of Dong’s known views, and the concept of Great Peace, though pervasive in Han political discourse, is not especially associated with Dong.) Even though there is no proof, and no prospect of proof, that Dong Zhongshu was the author of these essays, they could have been written by him or some member of his immediate circle.

In addition to chapter 19.2 and chapter 22, portions of chapter 21 have some points in common with Dong’s known views. In general, chapter 21 is concerned with the proper recruitment of officials, and Dong wrote at length about that issue in one of his memorials to Emperor Wu. He contends that the later kings of the Three Dynasties, in contrast to the earlier thearchs,³⁰ followed different policies because it was necessary to rectify the faults they inherited from their predecessors. Likewise in the present, Emperor Wu ought to adopt policies that will rectify the faults of his Han predecessors. Chief among them is the sorry state of official recruitment, which, Dong insists, is surely the source of the anomalies that plague Emperor Wu’s reign:

Currently the governors of the commanderies and prefects of the provinces are the teachers and leaders of the common people. They are the ones who have been commanded to propagate transformation [among the common people]. Thus if the teachers and leaders are not worthy, then the virtue of the ruler will not be proclaimed, and his benevolent and saturating [moral influence] will not flow forth…. This is why yin and yang are out of step and noxious qi fills and chokes the heavens so that the numerous forms of life rarely reach maturity and the common people have yet to find relief.³¹

This acerbic and cutting response analyzing the Liu family’s hiring policies testifies vividly to the lengths to which Dong would go to express his disapproval of policies emanating from the emperor. The chapter’s suggestion that “those who recommend unworthy men should be punished” is a strong critique of the favoritism and nepotism prevalent at the imperial court. Based on this evidence, Dong Zhongshu was a brave man and an engaged and astute adviser. The detailed procedures outlined here for recommendation and recruitment of officials testifies to Dong’s strong interest in this subject and the extent to which he grounds his policy reforms on an understanding of history. On the basis of this analysis, we conclude that at least some of the passages in (the textually damaged) chapter 21 may have been written by Dong Zhongshu or one or more of his immediate disciples.

The remaining essays in this group offer a different scenario. It is not likely that Dong Zhongshu could have written any of them, as they recommend political techniques and ideas that contradict everything we know about his interests and beliefs. They support the unrivaled power of the ruler. They depict a ruler who cares for neither the material well-being of his people nor their moral grounding. They are decidedly suspicious of the ministers who staff the bureaucracy, often assuming that these officials present the most serious political threats to the ruler. These essays also do not justify the political techniques they recommend based on the authority of either the Confucian canon or Heaven, the usual strategies adopted by Dong Zhongshu to promote his political ideals, and they have little or nothing to say about Humaneness, Righteousness, or other Confucian virtues.

Moreover, just as there is no reason to think that these chapters were written by Dong Zhongshu or any member of his circle, there also is no reason to think that they were written by a single individual. These chapters present different perspectives on power and position, as well as different means to achieve them. They present varied and inconsistent strategies to legitimize the political techniques that they recommend. Some, as is the case with the three essays in chapter 20, imply that the ability to secure the ruler’s power and position requires no justification; royal authority by definition is seen as being good. Other chapters, such as 18 (and its alternative version, chapter 78.1), draw on cosmic models to justify the policies they recommend. In addition, these chapters’ views of such crucial issues as rewards and punishment, non-action, and the need for the ruler to have spiritlike qualities are inconsistent. Finally, these chapters employ a distinctive vocabulary of technical terms, quite different from the vocabulary of most of the rest of the Chunqiu fanlu.

Why, then, are these chapters in this text? They are most similar not to other chapters of the Chunqiu fanlu but to texts classified as za (miscellaneous, eclectic, syncretic) works in the bibliographic treatise of the Han shu and later official histories—such as the Lüshi chunqiu, the Guanzi, and the Huainanzi. Possibly, the essays in these chapters somehow acquired associations with the name of Dong Zhongshu, despite their divergence from his known works and views and for reasons that we now cannot fathom. We may, then, imagine that the unknown compiler of the Chunqiu fanlu, eager to collect in one volume everything that he could lay his hands on that was in any way associated with Dong, dutifully included them in his compilation.

1. These chapters are often called the “Huang-Lao chapters,” a term that Sarah A. Queen also used in From Chronicle to Canon: The Hermeneutics of the “Spring and Autumn” According to Tung Chung-shu (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1996). But we now feel that it is better to avoid that term, because there is no consensus on what “Huang-Lao” signifies and not enough evidence to settle the issue. See the section “Issues of Dating and Attribution” and the discussion in John S. Major, Sarah A. Queen, Andrew Seth Meyer, and Harold D. Roth, trans. and eds., The “Huainanzi”: A Guide to the Theory and Practice of Government in Early Han China (New York: Columbia University Press, 2010), 27–32.

Duke Huan questioned Guanzi saying, “Youyu implemented planned fiscal management. I wish to do the same. How do I go about it?” “States involved in warfare,” replied Guanzi, “concentrate their efforts on building city walls and moats. Consequently, they invariably fail to make proper use of their land. On the other hand, states that adhere to the Kingly Way act in accordance with the seasons.” “What do you mean by ‘in accordance with the seasons?’ ” “Issue orders setting a standard price [for grain] and maintain control over land utilization and policies affecting people. In this way, opening and closing the gates to wealth will lie entirely in the hands of the ruler on high, and there will be no need to seek it directly from the people.”

If you are able to take charge of the four seasons, control the opening and closing of the gates of wealth, and your people do not move away, it will provide a stability similar to placing a square object on the ground. This is what is meant by the art of planned financial management. (W. Allyn Rickett, trans., Guanzi: Political, Economic, and Philosophical Essays from Early China [Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 1998], 2:365, 367)

18. This phrase recalls the story of King Danfu of high antiquity, who was followed into exile by the entire population of his state. There are many versions of the story. See Zhuangzi 28 in Victor H. Mair, trans., Wandering on the Way: Early Tales and Parables of Chuang Tzu (Honolulu: University of Hawai‘i Press, 1997, 285–86); Lüshi chunqiu 21.4 in John Knoblock and Jeffrey Riegel, trans., The Annals of Lü Buwei: A Compete Translation and Study (Stanford, Calif.: Stanford University Press, 2000), 557–58; and Major et al., Huainanzi 12.15, 451.

29. For example, Hsiao Kung-ch’uan, A History of Chinese Political Thought, trans. F. W. Mote (Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 1979), 570–82; Charles Le Blanc, Huai-nan Tzu: Philosophical Synthesis in Early Han Thought: The Idea of Resonance (Kan-ying) with a Translation and Analysis of Chapter Six (Hong Kong: Hong Kong University Press, 1985), 4–8; John S. Major, Heaven and Earth in Early Han Thought: Chapters Three, Four, and Five of the “Huainanzi” (Albany: State University of New York Press, 1993), 8–14; Harold D. Roth, The Textual History of the “Huai-nan Tzu,” Monograph no. 46 (Ann Arbor, Mich.: Association for Asian Studies, 1992), 13–19; Tu Wei-ming, “The Thought of Huang-Lao: A Reflection on the Lao Tzu and Huang Ti Texts in the Silk Manuscripts of Ma-wang-tui,” Journal of Asian Studies 39 (1979): 95–100; Randall Peerenboom, Law and Morality in Ancient China: The Silk Manuscripts of Huang-Lao (Albany: State University of New York Press, 1993); Robin D. S. Yates, Five Lost Classics: Tao, Huang-Lao, and Yin-Yang in Han China (New York: Ballantine Books, 1997); Mark Csikszentmihalyi, “Emulating the Yellow Emperor: The Theory and Practice of Huang-Lao, 180–141 B.C.” (Ph.D. diss., Stanford University, 1994); Wang Aihe, Cosmology and Political Culture in Early China (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2000), 184–85.