“Scholars contesting each other’s views.” Ink painting in the Zibo Chinese Ceramics Museum in Zibo City in Shandong Province in Summer 2007. Artist unknown.
Image edited by David Henry.
Of the fifteen tales in this section, the first fourteen are set in the State ofLǔ and the last in the State of Qí.
Lǔ 魯 was a State located in what is now the western portion of Shāndōng Province, just north of Mount Tàishān. It was originally the fief of Bóqín 伯禽, the son of the Duke of Zhōu, a major Chinese culture hero who was younger brother of King Wǔ (reigned 1045 to 1043), and regent to King Chéng (reigned 1042 to 1006). The Rulers of Lǔ were, thus, all descendants of the Duke of Zhōu. A set of Court Records known as “Chūnqiū 春秋, or the “Spring and Autumn Annals,” covering a 242-year period extending from 722 to 481, was compiled in this State. Lǔ was also the home State of Kǒngzǐ (Confucius, 551–479), the supreme Chinese arbiter of ethics and behavior. The capital of Lǔ was Qūfǔ 曲阜.
Qí 齊 was a large and powerful State to the east of Lǔ, in what is now central Shāndōng Province. It was originally the fief of Jiāng Tàigōng 姜太公, the military strategist who enabled King Wǔ of Zhōu to defeat and overthrow the Shāng Dynasty in 1045. The Rulers of Qí, through most of its history were, thus, his descendants and bore the surname Jiāng. The capital of Qí was Línzī 臨淄 on the west bank of the Zī River, a broad body of water with handsome forested islands. That State’s most celebrated Ruler was Qí Huángōng, who was the first in a series of particularly efficacious Rulers of different States known as the “five hegemons” (wǔbà五霸). According to legend, Qí Huángōng owed his supremacy among the Lords to the wise advice of a great statesman named Guǎn Zhòng 官仲, who was his Prime Minister. In the present work, the “Tales from Qí” are limited to eight items that show Guǎn Zhòng giving advice to Qí Huángōng. Excerpted at the end of this section is a tale in which Guǎn Zhòng unfolds a scheme for obtaining military supplies. ~ Eric Henry.
Summary: As Lord Zhuāng of Lǔ (reigned 693–662) prepares to do battle with Qí at Cháng Sháo, Cáo Guì, a commoner in his State, asks him what he will rely upon to gain victory. Lord Zhuāng observes that he, Zhuāng is not covetous, but Cáo Guì objects that his largesse and his sacrifices have been insufficient. People and spirits must both be satisfied if they are to give support and confer blessings in warfare. Lord Zhuāng, then, observes that he always attempts to base his rulings on circumstances when adjudicating suits. This satisfies Cáo Guì. Sincerity of intention will manifest itself even if the execution is not perfect. This is Item 1in “Tales from Lǔ” (Book 1). A parallel item appears in Zuǒ Tradition, Zhuānggōng 10, Item 1.
This is a sort of Confucian “miracle tale” in which civic virtue is seen as leading directly to military success. In his “Refutation,” the Táng literatus Liǔ Zōngyuán objects with special vehemence to this tale: “The questions posed by Guī,” he says, “have no relationship to the reality of warfare. And the talk of satisfying the spirits with seemly sacrifices is absurd in the extreme. When two States are on the verge of a conflict that will determine their own survival and the fate of their peoples, to neglect reality and talk about propitiating spirits is to put the whole enterprise in danger. Asking the Ruler about his management of civil suits is neither here nor there. If the Ruler’s virtue is such that he can gain the acquiescence of the Lords and avoid warfare, that is one thing. But if war is imminent, I find it impossible to believe that dealing properly with civil suits can help the situation. Guī should speak as follows to his Ruler: ‘Who among your officers is a strategist capable of quelling the enemy? How many men do you have who will die to save the State? Are your experienced men and officers numerous or few? In what state of repair are your instruments of warfare? How will you use the terrain when fighting the enemy?’ Only by taking these things into consideration can you talk about warfare. To speak only of the influence of civil procedures on warfare is tantamount to bringing misfortune on the altars of the State projects.”
We may observe, however, that the apparent disjunction between cause and effect in this tale is precisely what makes it viable as a tale.~ Eric Henry.
Prior to the Battle of Cháng Sháo[1] [684, 1st month], Cáo Guì[2] asked Lord Zhuāng what he intended to rely upon in doing battle. Lord Zhuāng answered, “I do not economize in my bestowals of food and clothing on the people,[3] nor am I miserly in my use of animals and jade objects when sacrificing to the spirits.”
Cáo Guì replied, “Only when favor is shown to the base, please note, will the people give their allegiance; only when the people are in harmony will the spirits confer their blessings. If you show favor everywhere to the people and make your measures just and equitable, if those in high position devote themselves to governing and the common people devote themselves to toil, if you perform no unseasonable action and do not overuse the riches of the land, then our resources will not be exhausted, and no one will fail to offer goods for sacrifice. Then, if you seek to deploy your people, everyone will listen, and if you seek blessings from the spirits, they will surely reward you.
“But now you propose to offer a minor gratuity and to offer a single sacrifice to the spirits. A minor gratuity will not supply all wants, and a single sacrifice will not be sufficiently splendid. If you leave their wants unfulfilled, the people will not be yours; and if the sacrifices are not splendid, the spirits will not confer their blessings. What, then, will you be able to rely upon to make war? What the people seek, let us note, is a sufficiency of goods; and what the spirits seek is richness and enjoyment when they partake of offerings. It is, therefore, not right to fail to lay the foundation.”
Lord Zhuāng said, “When I adjudicate civil suits, I always base my rulings on the circumstances, even if I am unable to determine the truth of every detail.”
“In that case, it may be done,” Cáo Guì replied. “As long as you truly have the people’s interests at heart, then your measures will accord with the Way, even if your wisdom falls short in some respects.”
Summary: Cáo Guī advises Lord Zhuāng against going to observe the Qí earth-spirit sacrifices, saying that Qí has abandoned the exact practices of Tàigōng Wàng (the Qí lineage founder) and the former Kings, and turned the sacrifices into an empty spectacle. Besides, it is irregular for a Vassal Lord to attend another Lord’s sacrificial ceremonies. The journey will certainly become the subject of an official Court notation, which will provide a bad example for Lord Zhuāng’s descendants. This is Item 2 in “Tales from Lǔ” (Book 1). See also Zuǒ Tradition, Zhuānggōng 23, Item 1.
It would appear that Rulers in the system portrayed here and elsewhere in this work had little freedom to give way to random impulses. The argument here against Lord Zhuāng’s impulsive desire to gaze at a spectacle is that there is no precedent for it. ~ Eric Henry.
When Lord Zhuāng was about to go to Qí to observe the sacrifices to the spirits of the land [671], Cáo Guì admonished him, saying, “This won’t do. Ritual, please note, is used to govern the people. The rules of the former Kings, therefore, stipulated that in each five-year period the various Lords would send emissaries with tribute to the King four times and meet once among themselves. Upon completion of their audiences, they practiced the rites in meetings so as to perfect themselves in their observance of the usages pertaining to different ranks. The order of seniors and juniors was followed, examples of superiority and subordination were taught, and the proper use of property and implements was specified; there was no opportunity for omission or laxity between these meetings. Qí, let us note, has cast aside the usages of Tàigōng[4] and makes a show of her people by the altar of the earth spirit. If you go there just to see that, you will have abandoned the institutions of your forebears. What can you use to instruct the people then?[5]
“Earth is raised to make an altar to the soil to pray for blessings at the start of the planting season. Gleanings are gathered to make a grain offering at the winter sacrifice to ensure the following year’s harvest. Now Qí is conducting sacrifices to the soil, and you propose to go and observe the celebrants in their formations. This does not accord with the teachings of the former Kings. When the Son of Heaven sacrifices to the Supreme Lord, the Vassal Lords gather there to receive his commands. When a Vassal Lord sacrifices to a former King or Lord, his Ministers and Officers assist him so as to receive their assignments. I have never heard that Vassal Lords meet each other to conduct a sacrifice, and this sacrifice is moreover an irregular sacrifice. This action of yours will inevitably be recorded. If irregular deeds are recorded, what will subsequent generations have to look at?”
Lord Zhuāng ignored this advice and went to Qí.
Craftsmen, too, were voluble sources of counsel.
Summary: Lord Zhuāng paints and carves the temple of his father Lord Huán in preparation for the arrival of Āi Jiāng, a bride from Qí. Chief artisan Qìng objects that the redecoration is extravagant, useless, and has no basis in the practices of the former Kings, or of Lord Zhuāng’s father. This is Item 3 in “Tales from Lǔ” (Book 1). Related items appear in Zuǒ Tradition, Zhuānggōng 23, Item 3, and Zhuānggōng 24, Item 1. ~ Eric Henry.
When Lord Zhuāng had the pillars of Lord Huán’s temple painted red, and had the rafters carved [in 671 and 670],[6]Qìng, the Chief of Artisans[7] spoke to him, saying, “I have heard that those first enfeoffed as Rulers of the various States by the sage Kings of old left precedents for their successors, so that they might not fall into unseemly ways. They caused later generations to do honor to the bright traditions of the past, so that they would be always visible to the world, and, in this way, they were able to make their ways unchanging and secure. But now you are extravagant, while our former Lord was frugal, and thus you cause their bright virtue to come to naught.”
“But my functionaries want to make it beautiful,” protested Lord Zhuāng.
“It will bring you no benefit and will diminish the virtue of your forebears,” Qìng replied. “That is why I said that it would be just as well to abandon it.”
Lord Zhuāng failed to heed this advice.
Precedent again.
Summary: When Lord Zhuāng orders that silken gifts be presented to his bride, Āi Jiāng, upon her arrival from Qí, Xiàfù Zhǎn points out that such gifts are not in accord with precedent. Gifts for women are limited to dates and chestnuts, whereas those for men include jade, silk, and birds. To give silk to the new Consort is to obliterate the distinction between the sexes; and this distinction is one of the fundamental principles of the State. This is Item 4 in “Tales from Lǔ” (Book 1). See also Zuǒ Tradition, Zhuānggōng 24, Item 2. ~ Eric Henry.
When Āi Jiāng arrived [in 670], Lord Zhuāng had the Court Officers, and those of their wives who bore the royal surname, present her with gifts of silk in greeting. The Clan Director, Xiàfù Zhǎn,[8] said, “This offends precedent.”
“Whatever a Ruler does is itself a precedent,” countered Lord Zhuāng.
“If a Ruler’s actions accord with ritual,” said Zhǎn, “then they will be regarded as precedents; but if they conflict with ritual, then their lack of accord will be set down by the Court Archivists. Ever since I have held this position, I have been fearful of leaving records of ritual violations for subsequent generations to see; therefore, I dare not refrain from speaking. Gifts for women are limited to dates and chestnuts, and are used to show respect. As for men, jade, silk, and various birds are given to serve as insignia of rank. But now, in having women accept gifts of silk, you have obliterated the distinction between the sexes. The distinction between sexes is a fundamental principle of the State that cannot be allowed to disappear.”
Lord Zhuāng failed to heed this advice.
Summary: When a famine occurs in Lǔ, Zāng Wénzhòng, a Lǔ savant, volunteers to take precious objects to Qí and ask to purchase grain. Lord Zhuāng accepts his proposal. A retainer of Wénzhòng’s asks him if it is right to put himself forward in this manner. Wénzhòng replies that not to have done so would have been to fail to fulfill his responsibility as an officer. ~ Eric Henry.
He then goes to Qí with a sacrificial wine vessel and jade chimes, and asks for help in terms that stress the close relationship of Zhōugōng and Tàigōng, the founders of the States of Lǔ and Qí. The men of Qí return the gifts and allow him to purchase grain. This is Item 5 in “Tales from Lǔ,” (Book 1). Compare with Zuǒ Tradition, Zhuānggōng 28, Item 4, which consists of a brief notice only. ~ Eric Henry.
When famine occurred in Lǔ [in 666], Zāng Wénzhòng 臧文仲[9] spoke to Lord Zhuāng, saying, “Of all the things that serve to secure aid from surrounding States and that establish mutual trust among the Vassal Lords, marital ties have the greatest weight, and oaths of alliance are used to make those ties explicit. It is for the express purpose of managing matters when the State is hard-pressed that these alliances are formed. Great vessels are cast and precious objects stored away so that there may be a means of doing away with the people’s afflictions. The State is now afflicted. Why don’t you use some great bronze vessels to request permission to buy grain from Qí?”
“Who will undertake the mission?” asked Lord Zhuāng.
“When States are visited with famine,” replied Wénzhòng, “The ancient regulations stipulate that Court Officers may go forth to announce their desire to purchase grain. I hold such an office, so I beg permission to go to Qí.”
A retainer of Wénzhòng’s said, “His Lordship didn’t give you an order; instead, you volunteered. Wasn’t that the same as choosing your own assignment?”
Wénzhòng said, “A worthy man is quick to act in the face of distress and is yielding in times of ease. One who holds office does not recoil from difficulties in the course of service; one who occupies an exalted station commiserates with the people in their misfortunes. In this way, the ruling house is kept free of disharmony. If I now did not go to Qí, I would be failing to act quickly in the face of distress. When those above fail to commiserate with those below, and аrе lazy to boot, the Ruler would not be well served.”
Wénzhòng went to Qí with a jade tablet in the shape of a sacrificial wine vessel and a set of jade chimes, and made his request as follows: “The calamities of Heaven, moving from place to place, have now come to our humble settlement. Famine has descended heavily upon us, and the people are sick and not far from death. We greatly fear that we will lack the means to supply the sacrifices ordained to be offered to the Duke of Zhōu and to Tàigōng Wàng, and that we will be guilty of crime in our failure to supply the tribute that our appointment requires of us. With this silk and these implements of our unworthy former Lords, I wish, presumptuously, to point out your long-stagnant surpluses of grain, so as to relieve the minds of those responsible for them and to rescue our humble settlement, so that we will be able to meet the obligations of our appointment. It will not be our Ruler and his officers alone who will have a deep sense of the favor bestowed by your Lord; the Duke of Zhōu, Tàigōng Wàng, and the many Kings and spirits of heaven and earth will enjoy and depend on the fruits of your generosity forever!”
The men of Qí returned his jade implements and allowed him to purchase grain.
Summary: Shortly after Jìn’s destruction of Cáo, Zāng Wénzhòng stays overnight at a waystation in Zhòng, where the keeper informs him that Lord Wén of Jìn is distributing the territory of Cáo among the Vassal Lords. He advises Wén Zhòng to go at once to Jìn, as the land is being given out on a first-come-first-serve basis. This is Item 8 in “Tales from Lǔ,” (Book 1). See also Zuǒ Tradition, Xīgōng 31, Item 1. ~ Eric Henry.
When Lord Wén of Jìn divided the territory of Cáo, distributing it among the other Lords [in 629], Lord Xī had Zāng Wénzhòng go forth on a mission, and he passed the night at a waystation in Zhòng 重.[10] The keeper of the waystation spoke to him as follows: “The Lord of Jìn has just obtained the overlordship and wishes to strengthen the allegiance of the other Lords. He is, therefore, dividing the territory of a guilty party to give to the Lords. Each and every one of the Lords are anxious to benefit from this; all are cultivating their relations with Jìn and striving to be first. The Lord of Jìn is not basing the distribution on established rank; rather he is forming relations with those who come forward earliest. You must not fail to travel there at once. Lǔ is the most senior State, and if she is first to apply as well, who among the Lords can hope to compare with her? If you tarry here at all, I fear you will be too late.”
Zāng Wénzhòng acted upon this advice and gained more territory for Lǔ than was gained by any other State. After returning to Lǔ and delivering his report, he made a special request: “That we gained so much territory is due to the efforts of the waystation keeper in Zhòng. Your servant has heard that ‘good behavior produces clear signs; it must be rewarded, however humble the person possessing it. Wrongdoing is accompanied by bloody omens; it must be punished however noble the guilty party may be.’ The words of this person have enlarged our borders; the results achieved have been great. I beg permission to reward him.”
He, then, went out and conferred noble rank on the waystation keeper.
Summary: When a yuánjū seabird comes and lingers by the city gate, Zāng Wénzhòng has people conduct sacrifices to it. Liǔxià Huì, an elder statesman of Lǔ, protests that this is entirely irregular. Proper objects of sacrifice include only those who have made great contributions to human welfare (he cites many legendary sage Kings as examples), the spirits of the altars of the State, and certain useful entities in nature such as the sun, moon, and stars, the five phases, and famous hills and streams. He surmises that the bird’s flight inland may presage some disturbance at sea. This is borne out by the unusual winds and temperatures that occur that year. Zāng Wénzhòng has a record made of Liǔxià Huì’s words. This is Item 9 in “Tales from Lǔ” (Book 1). A brief—three-word—reference to this irregular sacrifice appears in Zuǒ Tradition, Item 5. ~ Eric Henry.
When a seabird called yuánjū 爰居[11] perched just beyond the eastern gate of Lǔ for three days, Zāng Wén Zhòng had the people of the State capital offer sacrifices to it.
Liǔxià Huì[12] said, “Excessive indeed are the policies of Master Zāng! The rules of sacrifice, let us note, are among the principal regulations of the State, and it is through regulation that government comes into being; therefore, care in the conduct of sacrifices is among the sacred canons of the State. But now the canons have been added to for no reason. This is no way to conduct the government.
“According to the regulations, note, of the sage Kings concerning sacrifice, those who give models of government to the people are to receive sacrifice; those who give their lives in the service of others are to receive sacrifice; those who, through their toil, help settle a State are to receive sacrifice; those who are able to avert natural calamities are to receive sacrifice; and those who are able to stave off great misfortune are to receive sacrifice. Personages who do not belong to these categories are not included in the sacrificial canons.
“In former times, when Yándì[13] ruled the land, he had a son, Hòu Jì,[14] who was able to make the hundred grains and vegetables flourish. The rise of Xià[15] was continued by him,[16] so he is sacrificed to as Jì, the millet spirit.[17] When Gònggōng Shì was lord over the nine regions, his son Hòu Tǔ was able to pacify the nine provinces, so he is sacrificed to as Shè 社, the earth spirit.[18] The Yellow Lord[19] was able to give names to the hundred objects in order to make manifest the people’s common possessions, and Zhuān Xù[20] was able to continue his accomplishments. Dì Kù[21] was able to establish the order of the three starry bodies,[22] so as to bring stability to the people. Yáo[23] was able to systematize norms of behavior, so as to bring proper behavior to the people. Shùn[24] devoted himself to the people’s affairs and died in the wilds.[25]Gǔn[26] blocked up the flooding rivers and was executed.[27]Yǔ,[28] through his virtue, was able to complete his work. Xiè[29] was Director of Multitudes under Yáo and the people lived in harmony. Míng[30] devoted himself to his office and died while working on bodies of water.[31] Tāng,[32] founder of the dynastic Shāng, ruled though lenience and did away with evil.[33] Jì 稷 [Qì of Zhōu] devoted himself to cultivating the hundred grains and died on a mountain.[34] King Wén grew illustrious through culture, and King Wǔ did away with the filth suffered by the people.[35]
“Therefore, the clan of Yǒu Yú 有虞 performs the dì 禘 or supreme sacrifice[36] to the Yellow Lord, and the zǔ 祖 or “progenitor” sacrifice[37] to Zhuān Xù;[38] they perform the jiāo 郊 or “suburban” sacrifice[39] to Yáo and the zōng 宗 or “lineage” sacrifice to Shùn. The clan of Xià Hòu 下后 performs the dì or “supreme” sacrifice to the Yellow Lord, and the zǔ or “progenitor” sacrifice to Zhuān Xù, the jiāo or “suburban” sacrifice to Gǔn, and the zōng or “lineage” sacrifice to Yǔ. The Shāng perform the dì or “supreme” sacrifice to Shùn, the zǔ or “progenitor” sacrifice to Xiè, the jiāo or “suburban” sacrifice to Míng, and the zōng or “lineage” sacrifice to Tāng. The Zhōu perform the dì or “supreme” sacrifice to Kù 嚳, the jiāo or “suburban” 你 sacrifice to Jì 稷, the zǔ the “progenitor” sacrifice to King Wén, and the zōng or ‘lineage” sacrifice to King Wǔ.
“Mù 幕[40] was able to continue the tradition of Zhuān Xù, so the clan of Yǒu Yú 有虞 performs the bào 報 or “requital” sacrifice to him.[41] Zhù 杼[42] was able to continue the tradition of Yǔ 禹, so the clan of Xià Hòu 夏后 performs the bào sacrifice to him. Shàng Jiǎ Wéi 上甲微[43] was able to carry on the tradition of Xiè 契, so the Shāng perform the bào sacrifice to him. Gāo Yú 高圉[44] and Tàiwáng 大王[45] were able to carry on the tradition of Jì 稷, so the Zhōu perform the bào sacrifice to them. These five types of sacrifice, the dì (“supreme”), the jiāo (“suburban”), the zǔ (“progenitor”), the zōng (“lineage”), and the bào (“requital”) are what the sacrificial canons of the State prescribe.
“In addition to these there are the spirits of the altars of land and grain, and of the mountains and rivers. All these are of proven worth to the people. And as for wise and shiningly virtuous men, these became bright examples to the people. And there are the three starry bodies;[46] these are looked up to by the people. It is the Five Planets;[47] that spur the generation of all things. And there are the famous hills, and the streams and marshlands, of the Nine Regions; these are the source of useful materials. Things other than these are not included in the sacrifices.
“But now a seafowl has come here, and he sacrifices to it—though he himself does not know what it is. To make this practice a part of the sacred canons of the State is hard to reconcile either with empathy [rén] or wisdom [zhì]. The empathetic can distinguish merit, and the wise can identify objects. To sacrifice where no merit has been achieved is not empathetic. To be ignorant of something and be incapable of inquiry is not wise. Will not a disaster occur at sea? The birds and beasts of the plains and streams always know how to fly beforehand from calamity.”
That year there were great winds upon the sea, and it was warm in winter. When Zāng Wén Zhòng heard these words of Liǔxià Huì, he said, “I have indeed been at fault. The words of Liǔxià Huì cannot but be taken as a standard.” He had them recorded on three small scrolls.
Summary: Xiàfù Fújì, in his capacity as Director of Sacrifices for the ruling house, proposes to elevate the position of Lord Xī in the order of his ancestors, placing him above his predecessor, Lord Mǐn. A temple functionary protests that this will upset the zhāomù sequence of the former Rulers. Xiàfù Fújì appeals to the etymological meaning of zhāo (“bright,” hence “enlightened”), but the functionary, citing Shāng and Zhōu ruling lines as examples, insists that these terms relate only to the order of generations.
When Liǔxià Huì hears of the change, he categorically condemns it and predicts that Xiàfù Fújì will suffer calamity. Xiàfù, as it turns out, enjoys a normal lifespan. This is Item 11 in “Tales from Lǔ” (Book 1). See also Zuǒ Tradition, Wéngōng 2, which has a very different account.~ Eric Henry.
When Xiàfù Fújì became Lineage Director (zōng),[48] he sought an audience with the Ruler so as to elevate the position of Lord Xī (reigned 659–627). There was a member of his staff who said, “This does not accord with the zhāomù system.”[49] Xiàfù Fújì replied, “I am the Director of Sacrifices. ‘Brightness or illustriousness’ belongs properly to zhāo; lesser qualities are designated by mù; how could any other principle apply?”[50]
The subordinate official said, “The use of the zhāomù system in sacrificial temples, we may note, is based on seniority across generations, and fosters proper understanding of clan relations among descendants. Sacrifice, it may be observed, is used to make bright the filial principle. When each member of the clan undergoes abstinence[51] and makes offerings of respect to their royal ancestors, this is an illustration of filiality at its brightest. Thus, blind reciters and learned archivists make records of the succeeding generations of Rulers, and directors of sacrifices record the zhāomù sequence; and even with all this they fear that their actions may be transgressive. But now you are placing illustrious merit foremost and according lesser importance to succession. From King Xuán to Zhǔ Guǐ,[52] no Ruler came up to Tāng in the Shāng line.[53] From Jì to Wáng Jì in the Zhōu line,[54] no Ruler came up to Wén and Wǔ.[55] In the Temple Lists of Rulers of the Shāng and Zhōu, neither Tāng nor Wén and Wǔ have ever been elevated above their predecessors. So would it not be inadmissible for Lǔ, which is not the equal of Shāng or Zhōu, to change its constant rules?”
Xiàfù Fújì failed to heed this admonition, and placed Lord Xī’s tablet in a higher position.
Liúxià Huì,[56] hearing of this, said, “Xiàfù Fújì will assuredly suffer disaster. The functionary’s words were plainly in accord with accepted practice, and Lord Xī was moreover not an enlightened Ruler. Going against proper advice is inauspicious; to use that which is against accepted practice to direct others’ behavior is also inauspicious, as is to change the placement of the spirit tablets. To elevate the memorial tablet of an unenlightened Ruler is inauspicious as well. He has in two ways violated the ways of the spirits, and in two ways violated the ways of people. Can he, then, escape disaster?”
A servant asked, “If disaster comes to him, what form will it take? Will it be execution? Or will it be an early death from plague?”
“This cannot yet be known,” was the reply. “If his blood and breath are sturdy, so that he dies at an advanced age, he cannot even thus be said to have escaped disaster.”
At the time of Xiàfù Fújì’s burial, fire consumed his coffin and flames arose from the grave.
This is an example of a type of tale in which an upright servant of a Ruler, in this case a shǐ or Court archivist, risks death in order to avoid violating an ethical principle. Here, the Crown Prince of Jǔ, a small State, after having murdered his father, comes to seek refuge in Lǔ, offering rich gifts in exchange for protection. Pleased by the gifts, the Lǔ Ruler, Lord Xuān, sends a message to Jì Wénzǐ, his Prime Minister, directing him to give a town to the Crown Prince. Lǐ Gé, the Court Archivist, intercepts the message and changes the wording so that it becomes an order to send the Crown Prince out to dwell among the Yí barbarians. This is carried out. When Lord Xuān learns what has happened, he accuses Li Gé of violating his order. Lǐ Gé acknowledges that he has committed a capital crime, but points out that not interfering with the order would likewise have been a capital crime. This is Item 12 in “Tales from Lǔ” (Book 1). A parallel account appears in Zuǒ Tradition, Wéngōng 18, Item 7. ~ Eric Henry.
Pú, the Crown Prince of Jǔ, murdered his father Lord Jì and sought to use his father’s treasure to seek refuge in Lǔ.[57] Lord Xuān [reigned 608–591] sent an attendant to Jì Wénzǐ[58] with a message that said,
The Crown Prince of Jǔ has not hesitated to murder his Ruler for my sake and has come here with his treasure. His love for me is great. Give him a town for me. You must give it today. Do not disobey this order.
Lǐ Gé[59] intercepted the man and changed the wording of the message as follows:
The Crown Prince of Jǔ has killed his Ruler and stolen his treasure. Ignorant of his complete disgrace, he has compounded his error by seeking a relationship with us. Have him exiled to the Eastern Yí tribes for me. This must be carried out today. Do not disobey this order.
The following day, the official concerned gave a report on the execution of the order. Lord Xuān conducted an inquiry, and the attendant who had carried the message related what Lǐ Gé had done. Lord Xuān had him seized and said, “Have you heard of a crime called ‘violating the order of a Ruler?’”
“I have incurred death by bestirring my brush,” replied Lǐ Gé, “but that is far from all I have heard of. I have heard that one who violates a principle is a bandit, that one who conceals a bandit is an accomplice in crime, that one who steals treasure is a pilferer, and that one who uses the goods of a pilferer is a scoundrel. One who causes his Ruler to be an accomplice in crime and a scoundrel must be done away with, but an officer who violates his Ruler’s command must also be killed.”
“I have indeed been guilty of greed,” replied Lord Xuān. “The crime is not yours.” He pardoned him.
Summary: When news arrives at the Lǔ Court that Lord Lì of Jìn has been assassinated, Lord Chéng of Lǔ asks his officers whose fault it is when a Ruler is murdered. Lǐ Gé replies that it is the fault of the Ruler. No Ruler can be murdered unless he has first lost prestige, given way to perverse practices, and alienated his people, as did King Jié of the Xià, King Zhòu of the Shāng, and Kings Lì and Yōu of the Western Zhōu. People imitate their Rulers as fish follow the current of a stream. This is Item 15 in “Tales from Lǔ” (Book 1). ~ Eric Henry.
When Lord Lì [reigned 599–581] was killed in Jìn, and witnesses came to report it, Lord Chéng of Lǔ [reigned 590–573] was presiding in Court. “When an officer kills his Ruler,” he asked, “whose fault is it?” When no Court Officer responded, Lǐ Gé[60] said, “It is the Ruler’s fault. The prestige of one who rules others, let us note, is great. To lose prestige to such a degree as to be killed shows that his faults have been great. A Ruler, moreover, is a shepherd to the people and corrects their erroneous ways. If he gives way to his own wicked inclinations[61] and ignores the people’s affairs, they will then form disloyal schemes. And then the Ruler will have no means of investigating them, and crimes will increase. If a ruler uses extreme behavior to gain the people’s adherence, if he falls into egregious error and fails to overcome it, if he is unwilling to make exclusive use of worthy officers, and in consequence is so unable to lead as to meet with violence and destruction upon which no one takes pity—then what purpose can be served by such a Ruler?
Jié fled to Náncháo,[62] Zhòu met death at Jīng,[63] Lì lived as an exile in Zhì,[64] and Yōu was destroyed at Mount Xì[65]—these are all examples of such behavior. A ruler, one may observe, is a fructifying river to his people. He acts, and all follow after him; all fine and ugly things arise from the ruler. What can the people do on their own?
This tale dramatizes the declining strength of Lǔ in the sixth century BCE relative to the growing strength of Chǔ, her semi barbarous neighbor to the south. Lǔ’s weakness, the tale makes plain, has turned the Lǔ ruler into a helpless and unhappy pawn of external forces.
The tale is in two parts. In the first, the Lǔ ruler, Lord Xiāng, is traveling to pay a tribute visit to Chǔ—in itself a humiliating show of subservience. When he hears that Chǔ’s ruler, King Kāng, has died, he wishes to abandon the mission and turn back. An officer of his, however, points out to Lord Xiāng and his entourage that returning would be unwise, as Chǔ would regard this as an insult and attack Lǔ. They continue on to Chǔ.
On his way back from Chǔ, Lord Xiāng hears that his officer Jì Wǔzǐ has seized a town in Lǔ. He wants to go back and use a Chǔ Army to attack Jì Wǔzǐ. Another officer, however, persuades him that this would be unwise, as Chǔ would then simply conquer and annex Lǔ. This is Item 4 in “Tales from Lǔ” (Book 2). A parallel version appears in Zuǒ Tradition, Xiānggōng 28, Item 12, and Xiānggōng 29, Item 4. ~ Eric Henry.
When Lord Xiāng of Lǔ went to Chǔ[66] he heard, upon arriving at the Hàn River,[67] that King Kāng[68] had died, so he wished to return to Lǔ. Shúzhòng Zhāobó[69] said, “It was not just for the sake of one person that Your Lordship came here—it was due rather to the authority and the great extent of the State of Chǔ. Though the King has died, Chǔ’s authority is no different than before, and the strength of her armies has not yet failed. Why, then, should you return?”
The officers all wished to return. Zǐfú Huìbó[70] said, “As none of us knows what is best, let us do as our Lord says!”
Shúzhòng said, “It was not to seek repose that you came here, but because you wished to benefit our State. It was for this reason that you did not shrink from undertaking a laborious journey to hear the decrees of Chǔ. It was not because you admired Chǔ for its devotion to principle, but because you feared the authority and strength of Chǔ. One who looks up to another, let us note, must necessarily congratulate him when he has cause for joy and condole with him when he has cause for grief. Is this not doubly so with one who serves another out of fear?
“Hearing that Chǔ is fearsome you came; hearing of a funeral, you would return. If the clan of Mī[71] indeed has an heir, none but he will lead the mourners. The Crown Prince is, moreover, a grown man, and the great Ministers of State have not been replaced. If you come on the former King’s behalf, but then drop the matter when he dies, who would be willing to say that the present ruler is inferior to the previous one? If you return the moment you hear that they are about to carry out a State funeral, who among them would be willing to excuse your behavior on the grounds that it is not insulting? Who among those who serve their ruler, and are responsible for the policies of their State, will permit other Lords to change allegiances at will? And when they seek to clear away this insult, surpassing the officers of the previous reign in determination, will not their enmity swell to yet greater proportions? They will not be weak in dealing with this insult—those who carry out Chǔ’s policies will not waver in loyalty, and when they descend on our small State with all the force of their great hatred, who among us will be able to confront them?
“Better to disobey your Lord and thereby avoid calamity than to blindly follow him into disaster. It is said that a man of quality does not act until his plans are complete. Have you gentlemen made your plans? If you know of a way to resist Chǔ and preserve our State, then we may return to Lǔ. If you do not, we had better proceed to Chǔ.”
They resumed their journey.
During their return from Chǔ, they heard upon arriving at Fāng city[72] that Jì Wǔzǐ[73] had taken the Lǔ city of Biàn[74] in a surprise attack. Lord Xiāng wanted to go back and have a Chǔ Army go out and attack Jì Wǔzǐ.[75] Róng Chéngbó[76] said, “That won’t do. The authority of a ruler far surpasses that of his minister. If you cannot give orders within your own State, but must rely upon other Lords to enforce them, who among the Lords will conceal it? And if you obtain a Chǔ Army and use it to attack Lǔ, the people of Lǔ are sure to put up a stout resistance. They did not oppose Jì Wǔzǐ[77] when he took Biàn—that shows they follow his orders. If Chǔ should conquer Lǔ, then no State bearing the royal surname of Jī would enjoy the slightest share in that victory, much less Your Lordship. Would Chǔ not, then, place people of their own surname in Lǔ, so as to subjugate the eastern Yí and put the Central States to rout? The one who gains the realm is the realm’s King—what regard does he have for you that he would give it all to you?
“If Chǔ did not conquer Lǔ, then you would have to use the Mán or Yí barbarians in a second attempt to reenter, which would surely fail. Your best course is to let him have the town. Jì Wǔzǐ won’t dare be anything but obedient to you. He will be like one who was drunk and angry, but is now sober and pleased. What harm is done? Your Lordship must go on to Lǔ!” They, then, returned.
This is one of eight stories appearing in the latter part of the second book of “Tales from Lǔ” that are devoted to the wise sayings and actions of the mother of Gōngfù Wénbó, a minor Lǔ Court figure. It is typical of the collection as a whole that such steady attention should be directed, first of all to a woman (cf. the “mother of Lord Kāng” who appeared previously), and second of all to a figure who appears nowhere else in China’s ancient literature. The idea seems to be that wisdom may be found in unlikely places, and is always to be regarded with wonder and appreciation.
Upon returning from Court and paying respects to his mother, Gōngfù Wénbó finds her spinning. He fears that his kinsmen Jì Kāngzǐ will blame him for not properly caring for her. His mother sighs, predicts the destruction of Lǔ, and orders him to sit while she explains matters to him. She recounts how the Sage Kings of old settled their people in barren places, so they would sharpen their wits and build their character with toil. She, then, recounts how the different classes of people, from the Son of Heaven down to the common man, achieve security by distributing their toil through the hours of the day and night. She, then, does the same for all the different classes of women. She herself, she says, is a widow, and her son holds a low position. Though she works early and late, she still fears that she may forget the ways of the ancients. Her son’s concern for repose, she fears, may lead to the decay and disappearance of their entire clan. Kǒngzǐ (Confucius) hears of this and tells his disciples to take note that this woman of the Jì clan is not self-indulgent (yín 淫). This is Item 13 in “Tales from Lǔ” (Book 2). Parallel versions appear in Zuǒ Tradition, Xiānggōng 28, Item 12 and Xiānggōng 29, Item 4. ~ Eric Henry.
One morning when Gōngfù Wénbó returned from Court and entered his dwelling, he paid the formal morning visit to his mother, who was just then spinning. “If you do this in my house,”[78] said Wénbó, “I fear our clansmen will look askance, thinking I do not know how to provide proper care for you.”[79]
His mother sighed and said, “Lǔ will surely perish! How could a boy like you, not knowing the tenets of official conduct, have become an officer? Sit, and I will inform you. Long ago, when Sage-Kings managed the people, they settled them in places with poor and barren soil, land that could only be improved through bitter and laborious toil, and thus they were able to rule the entire realm in perpetuity. Because they toiled hard, the people were able to exercise their minds, and because they exercised their minds, their hearts were able to become good. Ease and idleness give rise to unrestrained behavior, and unrestrained behavior gives rise to neglect of goodness, and neglect of goodness gives rise to ugly impulses. That people who dwell on fertile land fail to become useful is due to ease and idleness; those who live on poor land are all inclined to principled and industrious behavior.
“And thus each year, in the spring, the Son of Heaven wears five-hued vestments to pay respects to the sun, and together with the Three Dukes and the Nine High Ministers seeks to become knowledgeable concerning the character of the soil in different locations. At noon he considers administrative affairs, and reviews the cases pursued by all the officers; the high-level officials line up to recount their cases in turn. Each year, he dons three-colored vestments to pay his respects to the moon, and with his Chief Archivist and Astrologer investigates the laws and portents of Heaven.[80] At sunset, he assembles his Nine Ladies and has them put in order the items used in the ancestral sacrifices and the suburban sacrifices to Heaven and Earth; and only then does he take his rest. The various Lords carry out their ruler’s commands in the morning, attend to their own States’ affairs during the day, investigate the enactment of their directives in the evening, and direct the various craftsmen in the evening, to ensure that they do not grow lazy and undisciplined; only then do they take their ease. The high ministers attend to their official duties in the morning, examine the actions of their subordinates during the day, examine the regular procedure of their establishments in the evening, and attend at night to the governance of their families; only then do they take their ease. Men-of-service receive their directives in the morning, study and practice during the day, review what they have learned in the evening, check to see at night if there has been anything lacking in their behavior, and take their ease only when they are satisfied that they have failed in nothing. And the commoners, from high to low, all toil in the day and rest at night, and spend not even one day in idleness.
“The Consorts of Kings weave their husband’s tassels with their own hands; the Consorts of Lords weave not just their husband’s tassels, but their sashes and headdress-ornaments as well; the Consorts of High Ministers weave their husband’s great sashes of office; the Consorts of officers weave their husband’s sacrificial vestments; and the wives of men of service weave their husband’s Court attire. From the wives of low-ranking men of service on down, all make their husband’s clothing.
“At the time of the spring sacrifice they must concern themselves with crop cultivation and silkworm production; and at the time of the winter sacrifice they must concern themselves with the fruits of their handicraft. Men and women both exert themselves to the fullest and, if they prove lacking, are penalized for it; this has been the rule from days of old. Men of quality labor with their minds, while lesser people labor with their bodies; this is what the Kings of former times taught. From the highest to the lowest, who can presume to yield to excess and abandon toil?
“And now, in this case, I am a widow and you, moreover, are an officer of low-rank. Even though we work from morning to dusk, we still must fear that we are losing the ways of our predecessors; especially as you already are inclined to laziness—how can we escape penalty! My hope is that you will say to me, ‘We must not put aside the ways of our forebears: but just now you said, ‘Why don’t you take your ease.’ I fear that if this is the way you serve your ruler, your father’s posterity will come to an end.”
When Kǒngzǐ heard of this, he said, “Take this to heart, young gentlemen! This woman of the Jìsūn clan is not self-indulgent.”
Summary: In the presence of the elders and retainers of her husband’s clan, Gōngfù Wénbó’s mother intimates, by singing the third stanza of Odes 27, that she desires to get a wife for her son. Musicmaster Hài of Lǔ praises her use of the ode on that occasion. This is Item 15 in “Tales from Lǔ” (Book 2). No parallel account appears in Zuǒ Tradition.
Gōngfù Wénbó’s mother wanted to get a wife for Wénbó, so she spread a banquet for the elders and retainers of her husband’s clan, and sang the third stanza of “Green Coat.”[81] An elder had a tortoise shell diviner make prognostications concerning the clan of the bride. ~ Eric Henry.
Hearing of this, Musicmaster Hài 亥 said, “How skillful! Banquets at which both sexes take part do not extend to the clan retainers, and plans concerning clan affairs are discussed only within the clan. The way she broached the matter without violating these principles was both subtle and splendid. Verses are used to bring intentions together, and melodies are used to intone verses. Now a verse has been used to bring two households together, and a melody has been used to celebrate it—this fits the rules to perfection.”
Summary: When Gōngfù Wénbó dies, his mother does not want his concubines to make a great show of grief, for then people might think that he had been fonder of domestic (“inner”) affairs than public (“outer”) enterprises. She, therefore, instructs them not to beat their chests, not to look sick or woebegone, not to wear deep mourning, and so on. Zhòng Ní, hearing of this, remarks that she is as wise as a husband and wife put together. This is Item 16 in “Tales from Lǔ” (Book 2). ~ Eric Henry.
When Gōngfù Wénbó died, his mother admonished his concubines, saying, “I have heard that women die for the man who is devoted to domestic matters, and that men of service die for one who is devoted to public matters. My son has now died at an early age. I would hate it if he became known for being devoted to domestic matters.[82] So when it comes time to perform the sacrificial rites, I must request you ladies to accede to my wishes: do not appear starved, nor allow your tears to roll down, nor pound your chests, nor appear sunk in grief. And simplify your dress a bit without adding items expressive of mourning. You must follow the rites in a composed manner. This is the best way to do honor to my son.”
When Kǒngzǐ [Confucius] heard of this, he said, “A maiden’s knowledge is not the equal of a married woman’s, and a youngster’s knowledge is not the equal of a mature man’s. The wisdom of Gōngfù Wénbó’s mother was great indeed! She wished to make her son’s fine character clear for all to see.”
Summary: Gōngfù Wénbó’s mother excites Kǒngzǐ’s admiration by weeping for her deceased husband in the morning, and for her deceased son in the evening. This is Item 17 in “Tales from Lǔ” (Book 2).~ Eric Henry.
Gōngfù Wénbó’s mother wept for Mùbó 穆伯, her husband, in the mornings, and for Wén-bó in the evenings.[83] Hearing of this, Kǒngzǐ [Confucius] said, “The matron of the Jì clan can truly be said to know the rites. She is loving, yet does not indulge any personal attachment. Elder and younger both receive their due.”
Summary: Lord Huán asks Guǎn Zhòng how supplies of armor and weapons can be built up. Guǎn Zhòng advises him to establish a system of criminal punishments redeemable through payment of commutations, such as rhinoceros-hide armor, leather shields, and metal. People involved in civil suits will similarly be called upon to supply bundles of arrows. The good metal will be made into swords and dagger-pikes and tested on dogs and horses, and the inferior metal into hoes and choppers, which are to be tested on the earth. This is Item 5 in “Tales from Qí.” ~ Eric Henry.
“Well,” said Lord Huán, “our military bodies have all been disguised as civil administrative enterprises, but Qí still lacks armor and weapons. How shall we deal with this?”
“Reduce punishments—and let fines be received in the form of armor and weapons,”[84]replied Guǎn Zhòng.
“How shall this be done?” asked Lord Huán.
“Let those convicted of great crimes redeem themselves with one suit of rhinoceros-hide armor and one dagger-axe,” said Guǎn Zhòng. “Let those convicted of lesser crimes redeem themselves with one embossed leather shield and one dagger-axe. Let those convicted of minor crimes redeem themselves with metal ingots, and let those merely suspected of crimes be pardoned. Let those who bring accusations against others be held three days. If, at the end of that time, neither party has admitted their guilt, then both parties must submit a bundle of twelve arrows for their cases to be adjudicated. Good metal must be used to make swords and dagger-axes; they may be tested on dogs and horses. Poor quality metal may be used to make spades, hoes, trowels, and hatchets; they may be tested on sod.”
The armor and weapons of Qí were then in good supply.
[1] Cháng Sháo 長勺 was located in Qí.
[2] Cáo Guī 曹劌 was a commoner of Lǔ, who evidently had access to the ruler, perhaps due to a reputation for wisdom.
[3] The word used in the text is “mín,” people, but the implication is “troops,” or people who are to be used as troops.
[4] The reference is to Tàigōng Wàng, also known as Jiǎng Tàigōng, the founder of the ruling line of Qí.
[5] In his Russian translation, V.S. Taskin suggests that men of Qí took the opportunity of the shè 社, or earth-spirit, sacrifice to assemble her armies and make a boastful display of their majesty and numbers, calling upon others to witness it.
[6] This was in preparation for the arrival of a bride, Āi Jiāng 哀姜, from Qí. As a new bride, she would be presented in the temple that Lord Zhuāng wished to redecorate. Āi Jiāng was the daughter of Lord Xiāng of Qí, who had Lord Zhuāng’s father assassinated in 694.
[7] Qìng, the Chief of Artisans 匠師慶, was also known as Yù Sūn 禦孫.
[8] As clan director, Xiàfù Zhǎn 夏父展 was in charge of gift-giving rituals.
[9] A.k.a. Zāngsūn Chén 臧孫辰, the son of Bóshì Píng 伯氏瓶 and grandson of Zāng Āibó 臧哀伯.
[10] A town in Lǔ, later known as Zhòng Xiāng. It was located five kilometers northwest of the modern town of Yùtái in Shāndōng Province. In antiquity, waystations for officials were set up along the border every fifty li or so. Each had a watch tower and accommodations for travelers acting on behalf of a State government.
[11] Commentaries say that this was a large bird, perhaps a raptor, or perhaps an albatross, or other large sea bird. The bird was said to live on islands at sea. Mariners would judge their distance from the shore when the bird was sighted.
[12] Referred to in the text as “Zhǎn Qín.”
[13] Yán Dì 炎帝, the Fire Lord, is here referred to in the text as “the Lièshān clan chief 烈山氏.”
[14] Hòu Jì 后稷: referred to here as “Zhù” 柱.
[15] “Xià” here refers not to the Xià Dynasty, but to “the Xià people.” The reference is most probably to the Shāng realm.
[16] Referred to as Qì 棄of Zhōu in the Chinese text.
[17] Hòu Jì 稷后, also known as Qì and (more rarely) Zhù, was the mythical founder of the Zhōu Dynasty. Wéi Zhāo identifies the Lièshān clan chief, his putative father, as Yán Dì, but others say he was the son of Shén Nóng. He is usually described, not as the son of Yán Dì or Shén Nóng, but as the product of a miraculous pregnancy that began when his mother stepped in a gigantic footprint (cf. Odes245, “Shēng Mín” 生民).
[18] “Shè 社” (Hòu Tǔ后土), the earth spirit, is often mentioned in Chinese texts, but the account of his birth given here is rare. Gòng Gōng 共工氏 is a mythical figure, said to have fought unsuccessfully with Zhù Róng, a fire god, and then, in fury at his defeat, to have knocked his head against Mount Bǔ Zhōu, after which the supports of Heaven were broken and had to be repaired by the goddess Nǚ Wā.
[19] Huáng Dì 黃帝, the descendent of Shào Diǎn 少典, also called Dì Xuānyuán 帝軒轅.
[20] Zhuān Xù 顓頊: the grandson of Huáng Dì and the son of Chāng Yì 昌意; also known as Dì Gāoyáng 帝高陽.
[21] Dì Kù 帝嚳: the great-grandson of Huáng Dì, grandson of Xuán Xiāo 玄囂, and son of Jiǎo Jí 蟜極; also known as Dì Gāo Xīn 帝高辛.
[22] The sun, the moon, and the stars.
[23] Yáo 堯: The son of Dì Kù by a secondary Consort; known as Fàng Yùn 放勛 of the clan of Táo Táng 陶唐; the first of a triumvirate of three sage Kings, the others being Shùn and Yǔ.
[24] Shùn 舜: also known as Dì Zhòng Huá 帝重華 of the clan of Yǒu Yú 有虞, a sixth generation descendent of Zhuān Xù.
[25] He died in the wilds of Cāngwú 倉梧 while campaigning against the Yǒu Miáo 有瞄.
[26] Gǔn 鯀: A descendent of Zhuān Xù; famous for exacerbating, rather than solving, the problem of flooding.
[27] He was executed by Yáo at Yǔshān “Feather Mountain” 羽山.
[28] Yǔ 禹: also known as Dà Yǔ 大禹, Yǔ the Great; [putative founder of the Xià Dynasty].
[29] Xiè 契: the primal ancestor of the Shāng.
[30] Míng 冥: He was a sixth generation descendent of Xiè, and the son of Gēn Yú 根圉.
[31] He was Minister of Water under the Xià.
[32] Tāng 湯: He was a ninth generation descendent of Míng 冥, and the son of Zhǔ Guǐ主癸.
[33] i.e. he destroyed King Jié 桀 of the Xià Dynasty.
[34] Jì 稷: Hòu Jì 后稷; according to Máo Shī Zhuàn 毛詩傳 he died on Hēishuǐ Mountain 黑水山.
[35] i.e. he destroyed King Zhòu 紂 of the Shāng.
[36] This was the great sacrifice to royal ancestors, performed once every five years, or, according to some, every three years.
[37] The zǔ sacrifice was made to the Five Lords, or to the founders of a dynasty. There was a closely related ritual called zōng, referred to in the following phrases, that was an offering made to successors of the founder who distinguished themselves in continuing the founder’s efforts.
[38] Grandson of Huáng Dì and son of Chāng Yì.
[39] This was a sacrifice to Heaven and Earth performed in the city outskirts north of the capital.
[40] Yú Sī 虞思, a descendent of Shùn and a Vassal Lord of Xià.
[41] A sacrifice of thanksgiving to the spirits.
[42] Jì Zhù 季杼, the son of Shào Kāng 少康 and the seventh generation descendent of Yǔ.
[43] The eighth generation descendent of Xiè 契 and a forebear of Tāng 湯.
[44] The tenth generation descendent of Hòu Jì and the son of Gōng Fēi 公非.
[45] Also known as Gūgōng Dǎn-fù 古宮亶父; he was the great grandson of Gāo Yú.
[46] The sun, moon, and stars.
[47] Wú xíng 五行: another possibility is that this refers to the five social relationships.
[48] Xiàfù Fújì 夏父弗忌 was a Lǔ officer. The zōng 宗 was also in-charge of the interests and behavior of individuals belonging to the ruling line.
[49] The “zhāo mù 昭穆,” “bright and dark” system determined the placement of memorial niches, or tablets, of deceased rulers, in the ancestral temple. The second, fourth, and sixth generations were called zhāo 昭, and situated to the left, facing south. The third, fifth, and seventh generation were called mù, and located to the right, facing north.
[50] The argument here is that Xīgōng was “brighter,” i.e. had a longer and more illustrious reign than his predecessor Mín-gōng (reigned 661–660), and should therefore be elevated to the zhāo position.
[51] Reading qí 齊 as zhāi 齋.
[52] Xuánwáng 玄王 refers to Xiè 契, the mythical founding ancestor of the Shāng, and Zhǔ Guǐ 主癸 refers to the father of Tāng 湯 (see below).
[53] Tāng, also known as Chéng Tāng, was the first Ruler of the Shāng in its dynastic phase.
[54] Jì 稷 refers to Qì 棄, also known as Hòu Jì 候稷, the mythical founding ancestor of the Zhōu Dynasty, and Wáng Jì 王季 refers to the father of King Wén (see below).
[55] Wén and Wǔ refer to Kings Wén and Wǔ, the first two Rulers of the dynastic Zhōu.
[56] Referred to here as Zhǎn Qín.
[57] Lord Jì 紀 of Jǔ莒 had two sons, Pú 僕 and Jì Yì 季仡. After establishing Pú as Crown Prince, he transferred his affection to Jì Yì and took away Pú’s status. The assassination occurred in 609, when Lord Xuān of Lǔ had just come to the throne.
[58] Jì Wénzǐ 莒文子, a.k.a. Jìsūn Xíngfù 季孫行父, was the chief of the Jìsūn clan and Prime Minister of Lǔ.
[59] Lǐ Gé 里革, a.k.a. Lǐ Kè 里尅, was the Chief Archivist of Lǔ.
[60] Lǐ Gé 里革 is the same LǔCourt Officer who appears in the preceding story.
[61] Huí 回 here has the sense of xié 邪, “perverse, wicked.” (Wéi Zhāo).
[62] This refers to King Jié 桀, the last Ruler of the Xià Dynasty, depicted in legend as a colorfully depraved character, who fled to Náncháo 南巢 after being deposed.
[63] This refers to King Zhòu 紂, the last Ruler of the Shāng Dynasty, also depicted in legend as colorfully depraved (though his unusually long reign, a solid historical datum, does not appear to harmonize with the idea that he was depraved). Jīng京 refers to the Shāng capital.
[64] This refers to King Lì 厲 of Zhōu (reigned 878–857), who lived in exile in Zhì 彘, a place in Jìn, from 856 to 828, after being driven from the throne.
[65] This refers to King Yōu 幽 the last Ruler of the Western Zhōu, who appears to have brought destruction upon himself by setting aside his original Consort (from the powerful State of Shēn) and elevating Bào Sì, a female favorite, to her position. He met his death at Mount Xì戯.
[66] This occurred in 544; see Zuǒ Traditions, Xiānggōng 29, Item 1, p. 1154.
[67] The Hàn 漢, a major river in Chǔ.
[68] King Kāng of Chǔ, reigned 559–545.
[69] Shúzhòng Zhāobó 叔仲昭伯, aka Shúzhòng Dài 帶, a Lǔ officer, grandson of Shúzhòng Huìbó 叔仲惠伯.
[70] Zǐfú Huì-bó 子服惠伯, aka Zǐfú Jiāo 椒, a Lǔ Officer, son of Zhòngsūn Tuō 仲孫他.
[71] Mī 羋 was the surname of the Chǔ ruling clan.
[72] Fāng 方 city, located near Běishān 北山 in Chǔ.
[73] Jì Wǔzǐ 季武子, chief of the Jísūn clan in Lǔ.
[74] Biàn 卞, a town in Lǔ.
[75] The Chinese text says “attack Lǔ.” Wéi Zhāo, however, explains that the choice of “Lǔ” is meant to suggest that Jì Wǔzǐ had, in effect, seized the State of Lǔ.
[76] Róng Chéngbó 榮成伯, a.k.a. Luán 欒, a Lǔ Officer, son of Shēngbó 聲伯.
[77] Referred to in the text by his given name, Sū 夙.
[78] Here, and in the next phrase, Wénbó uses his personal name, Chù 歜, as a first-person pronoun.
[79] The implication is that a mother of a Court Official should not engage in such lowly tasks as spinning fabric.
[80] For xíng 刑 read xíng 形.
[81] Odes 27, “Lǜ Yī” 綠衣. The third stanza goes, “Green is the silk; / It was worked by you; / I think of my old love; / It causes me to have no faults.”
[82] Conceivably this means, “I would hate it if it came to be noised about that he died early due to his excessive fondness for his wives and concubines.”
[83] According to the rites, widows were to refrain from weeping at night lest they fall prey to amorous desire.
[84] In other words, the harsher physical punishments were to be foregone and lesser punishments—requisitions of materiel—were to be imposed.
