Zhang Juzheng's Ten Years, and Our Own Confusion

When the roots are firm, the flowers and fruit will flourish. When the source runs deep, its light and ripples will shine. So the gentleman dwells in substance, not in show, and tends to what is within, not what is without. To carry on the legacy of the great kings, to make clear where virtue leads, to probe the mysteries of nature and fate, and to fathom the depths of the classics: this is truly what I hope of you all.

– Collected Works of Zhang Taiyue, vol. 15, "On Study at the Hanlin Academy"

Zhang Juzheng graduated from the Hanlin Academy as a Hanlin bachelor¹ in the 28th year of the Jiajing reign (1549). After that he stayed on at the Academy as a compiler, a seventh-rank official.

A Hanlin bachelor had no official rank in itself. But in the society of the time, they were seen as the top talent produced by the imperial exams, and some of them were likely to join the Grand Secretariat one day, even become chief minister.

Zhang Juzheng's background wasn't illustrious. His family were hereditary military households in Jingzhou, and his father was a scholar who failed the provincial exam again and again. He made a name for himself young, but compared with the sons of great families, he came from humble stock at best.

And when a jinshi graduate from a humble family entered the Hanlin Academy, it was easy for his narrow horizons and circumstances to lead him astray. Some could think of nothing but getting an official post, put their studies and ideals aside, and only wanted to graduate as soon as possible. Others were even more impatient and started cozying up to powerful officials at court before they'd even graduated, looking for a patron.

Zhang Juzheng was something of a breath of fresh air. I think he at least knew what he wanted more clearly than his peers. In those times, he didn't want to stand aside and retire home early, and he didn't want to bury himself in scholarship all his life either.

More importantly, he looked down on going with the flow at court and flattering the Jiajing Emperor in exchange for wealth and glory.

But he also knew that throwing his life away on a remonstrance to the death was just a moment's impulse. Not long after becoming a compiler, he submitted his "Memorial on Current Affairs," which laid out the ills of the time very bluntly. But that's as far as it went. He didn't gamble his future on making a name for himself.

So I think Zhang Juzheng was a clear-headed person. He knew what he wanted, and he knew what he was up against and how many difficulties lay along the way.

His ten years at the Hanlin Academy weren't smooth sailing either. In the 33rd year of Jiajing (1554), he took sick leave and went home, and only returned to the capital in the 36th year (1557). I imagine his clear-headedness was slowly ground into shape through those advances and retreats.

As the saying goes, the great affairs of the world must be done through the small things. During those years he kept reinforcing his foundations, laying solid ground for what came later. As for what he was thinking at the time, I don't know. I can only guess from what he did.

These days, few people put ten years into one thing, and few have a clear and lofty ambition in their hearts. Look out across a ten-year horizon, and I think most people are lost.

So when I read about the young Zhang Juzheng in Twilight Radiance: Zhang Juzheng and the Politics of the Mid-to-Late Ming,² it really struck a chord with me.

Especially when I put him side by side with the different choices of the other Hanlin bachelors of his time, it felt a bit like the era I'm living in now. Of course, the confusion of the Jiajing years came from political pressure and an emperor who neglected his duties, while today's confusion comes more from too many choices and no clear direction. They're not quite the same. But what they share is this: temptation is close at hand, the future you dream of is far away, and there are obstacle after obstacle in between.

If you can't find your direction in times like these, maybe you can do what Zhang Juzheng did.

When the roots are firm, the flowers and fruit will flourish. When the source runs deep, its light and ripples will shine. So the gentleman dwells in substance, not in show, and tends to what is within, not what is without.

He wrote this later to the scholars of the Hanlin Academy, but when I read it, it also felt like his summing up of his own years there.

For Zhang Juzheng, firm roots and a deep source meant learning, character, and an understanding of the affairs of the world. For us today, I think it means not forgetting who you really are when you're lost, and not just going with the flow.

As Zeng Guofan put it: in company, guard your tongue; alone, guard your heart.

At the same time, keep reinforcing your foundations and building up your abilities. Exercise, for example: a healthy body is a foundation. Or learn English well: good English is a foundation too. Things you earn through hard work may be, in other people's eyes, things that would take them a long time to achieve.

So when you're lost, don't forget to keep building the abilities that truly matter. That's important in any era.

Footnotes

1. A Hanlin bachelor (shujishi) was a short-term post in the Ming dynasty's Hanlin Academy. The best of the newly passed jinshi graduates were selected for it, studied at the Academy for three years, and then took a final exam before being given a real post. Most Grand Secretaries of the Ming came up this way. ↩

2. By Wei Qingyuan. The book follows Zhang Juzheng and the politics of the mid-to-late Ming dynasty, and is an important work on late Ming politics. ↩