Document – Excerpts from the Kangxi Emperor on Ruling (1717)

“On Ruling”

Giving life to people and killing people—those are the powers that the emperor has. He knows that administrative errors in government bureaus can be rectified, but that a criminal who has been executed cannot be brought back to life any more than a chopped string can be joined together again. He knows, too, that sometimes people have to be persuaded into morality by the example of an execution. . . . [T]he ruler needs both clarity and care in punishing: his intent must be to punish in order to avoid the need for further punishing. . . . I have been merciful where possible. For the ruler must always check carefully before executions, and leave room for the hope that men will get better if they are given the time. In the hunt one can kill all the animals caught inside the circle, but one can’t always bear to shoot them as they stand there, trapped and exhausted. . . .

It’s a good principle to look for the good points in a person, and to ignore the bad. If you are always suspicious of people they will suspect you too. . . .

There are too many men who claim to be ju—pure scholars—and yet are stupid and arrogant; we’d be better off with less talk of moral principle and more practice of it. Even in those who have been the best officials in my reign there are obvious failings. . . . P’eng P’eng was always honest and courageous—when robbers were in his district he simply put on his armor, rode out, and routed them—but when angry he was wild and vulgar in his speech, and showed real disrespect. Zhao Shen-jiao was completely honest, traveled with only thirteen servants and no personal secretaries at all, but was too fond of litigation and was constantly getting the common people involved in complex cases. Shi Shi-lun was an official of complete integrity, but he swung too much in favor of the poor—in any lawsuit when a commoner was involved with a junior degree holder he’d favor the commoner, and when a junior degree holder was involved with a member of the upper gentry he’d favor the junior degree holder. In the same way Yang Ming-shi kept insisting on failing the rich examination candidates and passing the poor, even if they were really crude at letters. And Zhang Peng-ge, whom I praised so often and kept in the highest offices, could write a memorial so stupid that I ordered it printed up and posted in major cities so that everyone could read it—for he claimed that the drop in the river’s level was due to a miracle performed by the spirit of the waters, when the real reason was that no rain had fallen for six months in the upper reaches of the Yellow River. . . .

There is no way the emperor can know every official in the country, so he has to rely on the officials themselves for evaluations. . . . But when they are in cliques, he has to make his own inquiries as well; . . . for example, Governor Wen-pao, who reported that he was so virtuous that the people had begged to be allowed to erect honorary tablets in his name. But I made inquiries and found that most of them were murmuring in fury and would much rather have eaten him. Partly the trouble lies in failure of contact between top and bottom—after I began to make regular tours . . ., then things got better there.

The emperor can get extra information in audience, on tours, and in palace memorials. From the beginning of my reign, I sought ways to guarantee that discussion among great officials be kept confidential. . . . A court audience has the important function of reducing arrogance. Naturally one can’t summon all military governors for audiences at the same time, but regular audiences are crucial with military men, especially when they have held power a long time. There might have been no rebellion if [the military governors] . . . had been summoned for regular audiences and made properly fearful. . . .

On tours I learned about the common people’s grievances by talking with them, or by accepting their petitions. In northern China I asked peasants about their officials, looked at their houses, and discussed their crops. In the South I heard pleas. . . . But if someone was attacked in an anonymous message, then I refused to take action, for we should always confront a witness directly; and if someone exaggerated too stupidly, then too I would not listen. A man swam toward my boat in Hangchow with a petition tied around his neck, shouting out that he had a certain enemy who was the number-one man in the world for committing evil acts—and I simply had my retainers ask him, “Who then is number two?”

I’ve tried to be impartial between Manchus and Chinese, and not to separate one from the other in judgments: neither to have the ministers sit in silence like wooden puppets, nor to let them write out enormous memorials on some subject like the granting of an honorary sage’s title to a Sung scholar. There are certainly differences in their characters: the Manchus are direct and open, whereas the Chinese think it better not to let any joy or anger show in their faces. And the Manchus are often tougher and braver . . ., and treat both slaves and horses better. But the Manchus’ scholarship is often in no ways inferior to that of the Chinese. . . .

In river conservancy work also, though there are only two broad choices—should one speed the flow of water to the sea, or should one heighten the dikes?—it’s the constant attention to details that is of the greatest importance. . . .

. . . Talent does not depend on geographical location. Even in the mountain wildernesses how can there be no one with ability? Have the talented ever chosen where they were to be born? . . . When a person is truly good, then one should use him and promote him . . . regardless of whether he has advanced degrees. . . .

“There’s an old saying that if the civilian officials don’t seek money and the military officials aren’t afraid of death, we need never fear that the country won’t have Great Peace.” How true that is!

The Doctrine of the Mean says: “The superior man does what is proper to the station in which he is; he does not desire to go beyond this. In a high situation, he does not treat with contempt his inferiors. In a low situation, he does not court the favor of his superiors. He rectifies himself, and seeks for nothing from others, so that he has no dissatisfactions. He does not murmur against Heaven nor grumble against man. Thus it is that the superior man is quiet and calm, waiting for the appointments of Heaven, while the mean man walks in dangerous paths, looking for lucky occurrences.” These are truly wise words, clear as sun or stars.

This is what we have to do: apply ourselves to human affairs to the utmost, while remaining responsive to the dictates of Heaven. . . .

The superior man is firmly resolved.

He walks alone and is caught in the rain. He is bespattered,

And people murmur against him. No blame.

And again:

In dealing with weeds,

Firm resolution is necessary.

Things may seem determined in our lives, but there are these and other ways in which man’s power can develop Heaven’s work. . . . We must urge on Heaven in its work, not just rely upon it. . . . [I]f you do not perform your human part you cannot comprehend Heaven’s way. If the fortuneteller says you will be successful, can you then say, “I’m bound to do well and needn’t study properly”? If he says you’ll be rich, can you sit still and let the wealth come? If he offers you a life without misfortune, can you be reckless without fear? Or be debauched without harm because he says you’ll live long without illness? . . .

Once as a youth I was in the mountains, among deep woods, when suddenly there were crashes of thunder and I fled. Moments later the trees among which I had been walking were struck. So we see that though it is hard to fathom Heaven’s signs, if you approach them openly you can attain a kind of foreknowledge. . . .

When I was young, Heaven gave me great strength, and I didn’t know what sickness was. This spring I started to get serious attacks of dizziness and grew increasingly emaciated. Then I went hunting in the autumn beyond the borders, and the fine climate of the Mongolian regions made my spirits stronger day by day, and my face filled out again. . . . Since there are some things that I have wanted to say to you on a normal day, I have specially summoned you today to hear my edict, face to face with me.

The rulers of the past all took reverence for Heaven’s laws and reverence for their ancestors as the fundamental way in ruling the country. To be sincere in reverence for Heaven and ancestors entails the following: Be kind to men from afar and keep the able ones near, nourish the people, think of the profit of all as being the real profit and the mind of the whole country as being the real mind, be considerate to officials and act as a father to the people, protect the state before danger comes and govern well before there is any disturbance, be always diligent and always careful, and maintain the balance between leniency and strictness, between principle and expediency, so that long-range plans can be made for the country. That’s all there is to it.

No dynasty in history has been as just as ours in gaining the right to rule. The . . . roving bandit Li Zi-chengⁱ stormed the city of Peking, the Ming Emperor Zhong-zhen hanged himself,ⁱⁱ and the officials and people all came out to welcome us. Then we exterminated the violent bandits and inherited the empire. . . . From this we can tell that all the rebellious officials and bandits are finally pushed aside by truly legitimate rulers.

I am now close to seventy, and have been over fifty years on the throne—this is all due to the quiet protection of Heaven and earth and the ancestral spirits; it was not my meager virtue that did it. Since I began reading in my childhood, I have managed to get a rough understanding of the constant historical principles. Every emperor and ruler has been subject to the Mandate of Heaven. Those fated to enjoy old age cannot prevent themselves from enjoying that old age; those fated to enjoy a time of Great Peace cannot prevent themselves from enjoying that Great Peace.

“Valedictory”

Over 4,350 years have passed from the first year of the Yellow Emperorⁱⁱⁱ to the present, and over 300 emperors are listed as having reigned. . . . In the 1,960 years from the first year of Qin Shi Huangdi^iv to the present, there have been 211 people who have been named emperor and have taken era names. What man am I, that among all those who have reigned long since the Ch’in and Han Dynasties, it should be I who have reigned the longest?

Among the Ancients, only those who were not boastful and knew not to go too far could attain a good end. Since the Three Dynasties, those who ruled long did not leave a good name to posterity, while those who did not live long did not know the world’s griefs. I am already old, and have reigned long, and I cannot foretell what posterity will think of me.

With me it is different. I am letting you know what my sincerest feelings are in advance.

When I had been twenty years on the throne I didn’t dare conjecture that I might reign thirty. After thirty years I didn’t dare conjecture that I might reign forty. Now I have reigned fifty-seven years. The “Great Plan” section of the Book of History says of the five joys:

The first is long life; The second is riches;

The third is soundness of body and serenity of mind; The fourth is the love of virtue;

The fifth is an end crowning the life.

The “end crowning the life” is placed last because it is so hard to attain. I am now approaching seventy, and my sons, grandsons, and great-grandsons number over one hundred and fifty. The country is more or less at peace and the world is at peace. Even if we haven’t improved all manners and customs, and made all the people prosperous and contented, yet I have worked with unceasing diligence and intense watchfulness, never resting, never idle. . . .

In pacifying the Three Feudatories^v and clearing out the northern deserts, I made

all the plans myself. Unless it was for military matters or famine relief, I didn’t take funds from the Board of Revenue treasury, and spent nothing recklessly, for the reason that this was the people’s wealth. . . .

I came to the throne at eight, fifty-seven years ago. I’ve never let people talk on about supernatural influences of the kind that have been recorded in the Histories. . . . Those are all empty words, and I don’t presume so far. I just go on each day in an ordinary way, and concentrate on ruling properly. . . .

I wish all of you officials to remember that I have been the peace-bearing Son of Heaven for over fifty years, and that what I have said to you over and over again is really sincere. Then that will complete the fitting end to my life. I’ve been preparing this edict for ten years. If a “valedictory edict” is issued, let it contain nothing but these same words.

I’ve revealed my entrails and shown my guts, there’s nothing left within me to reveal.

I will say no more.