Shrines to Living Men in the Ming Political Cosmos 0674987144, 9780674987142

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Shrines to Living Men in the Ming Political Cosmos

Harvard-Yenching Institute Monograph Series 115

Shrines to Living Men in the Ming Political Cosmos Sarah Schneewind

Published by the Harvard University Asia Center Distributed by Harvard University Press Cambridge (Massachusetts) and London 2018

© 2018 by The President and Fellows of Harvard College Printed in the United States of America The Harvard-Yenching Institute, founded in 1928, is an independent foundation dedicated to the advancement of higher education in the humanities and social sciences in Asia. Headquartered on the campus of Harvard University, the Institute provides fellowships for advanced research, training, and graduate studies at Harvard by competitively selected faculty and graduate students from Asia. The Institute also supports a range of academic activities at its fifty partner universities and research institutes across Asia. At Harvard, the Institute promotes East Asian studies through annual contributions to the Harvard-Yenching Library and publication of the Harvard Journal of Asiatic Studies and the Harvard-Yenching Institute Monograph Series. I gratefully acknowledge permission to reproduce material from my article, “Beyond Flattery: Legitimating Political Participation in a Ming Living Shrine,” Journal of Asian Studies 72.2 (May 2013): 345–66. © 2013, published by Cambridge University Press. Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Names: Schneewind, Sarah, author. Title: Shrines to living men in the Ming political cosmos / Sarah Schneewind. Other titles: Harvard-Yenching Institute monograph series ; 115. Description: Cambridge, Massachusetts : Published by the Harvard University   Asia Center, 2018. | Series: Harvard-Yenching Institute monograph series 115 |   Includes bibliographical references and index. Identifiers: LCCN 2017060586 | ISBN 9780674987142 (hardcover : alk. paper) Subjects: LCSH: China—Politics and government—1368–1644. |   China—History—Ming dynasty, 1368–1644. | China—Social Conditions—960–1644. |   Shrines—China—History. | Dong lin shu yuan (China) | Dissenters—China—History. |   Public opinion—China. | Wei, Zhongxian, 1568–1627. | Gu, Yanwu, 1613–1682. Classification: LCC DS753 .S36 2018 | DDC 951/.026—dc23 LC record available at https://lccn .loc.gov/20170605 Index by Bruce Tindall Printed on acid-free paper Last figure below indicates year of this printing 23 22 21 20 19 18

For Bruce and Leo

Contents

List of Illustrations and Tables

ix

Acknowledgments

xi

Abbreviations

xv

Chronology

xvii

Introduction

1

Part I: Foundation and Floor 1

An Ordinary Institution

29

2 Parentalism

64

3 Worship

88 Part II: Pillars and Beams

4 Political Work

119

5

148

From Flattery to Participation

6 Commoners

176

Contents

viii

Part III: Walls and Roof 7 A Political Investment

207

8 Complications

235

9 The Minor Mandate

271

Conclusion

287

Glossary of Chinese Terms

297

Bibliography

303

Steles and Other Primary Texts Cited by English Title

303

Gazetteers Cited

313

Other Works Cited

319

Index

343

Illustrations and Tables Figures I.1 1.1 1.2 2.1 4.1 5.1 8.1 8.2 8.3 9.1

Tortoises bearing steles at a posthumous shrine Mr. Bi’s Living Shrine The Shrine to Local Worthies and the Shrine to Eminent Officials Li Jing’s Premortem Shrine Seeing off the departing magistrate Smashing the prefect’s image The Revering Merit and Admiring Virtue Premortem Shrine The Responding to Grace Shrine at West Lake Happy commoners at the Premortem Shrine of Palace Eunuch Liu Jing Elevation of an honorary title for magistrate in a gazetteer

19 31 60 79 124 150 239 250 251 285

Tables 1.1 6.1 7.1

Contributions to Li Wenkui’s Premortem Shrine, 1607–10 Sponsors of the Living Shrine to Taiping Magistrate Zhang Tingbang Magistrates of Shahe County and their honors

40 181 210–15

Acknowledgments

I

would like to thank the University of California for a President’s Fellowship, awarded in 2007–8, to start this project and the National Endowment for the Humanities for a year of research funding in 2012– 13. The University of California, San Diego (UCSD) Humanities Center sponsored a one-course relief in 2010 and in 2016. The UCSD Academic Senate also provided funding for me to hire graduate research assistants Judd Kinzley, Jenny Day, Sixiang Wang, Cherry Lui, Peter Braden, and Lin Yang, whom I thank. I am grateful for the questions and comments from discussants, co-panelists, and audiences at talks given at the Association for Asian Studies, the American Association of Religion, and the American ­Historical Association. I also learned from audiences at talks on premortem shrines at the University of Oxford, the Fairbank Center for Chinese Studies, Harvard University, UCLA, SUNY Buffalo, the University of Michigan, Columbia University, Rutgers University, and Southern Methodist University, and would like to thank the organizers: Hilde de Weerdt, Rob Weller, Natasha Heller, Roger V. Des Forges, Christian de Pee, Wendy Schwartz, and especially Kathleen Wellman. The celebrations for Madeleine Zelin and Robert P. Hymes gave me another chance to learn from my teachers, from participants, and from my classmates at Columbia, who provided aid, comfort, and reading assignments on this project: especially Christian de Pee, Xiaofei Kang, Rebecca Nedostup, and Margherita Zanasi. I do not forget Jaret Weisfogel, Professor Pei-yi Wu, or Professor de Bary. I do history in the library, so I am especially grateful to UCSD ­librarians Jim Cheng (before Columbia purloined him), Victoria Chu, and Chen Xi. I would also like to thank the Columbia librarians,

xii Acknowledgments

especially Chengzhi Wang, and the very helpful librarians at Harvard, UC Berkeley, Princeton, the University of Michigan, the Library of Congress, and Stanford. I am also grateful to the guru of the Chinese Text Project, Donald Sturgeon. And I would like to thank Bob Graham, Deborah Del Gais, and the whole patient editorial team at Harvard. I started collecting references to living shrines on my Committee on Scholarly Communication with China Ph.D. research grant in 1994 and have been obsessed with them since 2007, so the number of people who have asked useful questions (chapter 2 answers one from Matti Zelin), explained things, answered questions, encouraged me, or sent me primary and secondary sources is long. As well as my classmates mentioned above, these patient and knowledgeable folk include Allan Barr, my mentor Katy Carlitz, John Dardess, Joe Dennis, Peter Ditmanson, Yongtao Du, Ben Elman, Society for Ming Studies Founding President Ted Farmer, Siyen Fei, Anne Gerritsen, Vincent Goossaert, Martin Heijdra, Mark Hendrickson, T. J. Hinrichs, Tomoyasu Iiyama, Paul Katz, Jérôme Kerlouégan, Keith Knapp, Ya-pei Kuo, Cho-ying Li, Francine Lipton, Liu Hsiang-kwang, Weiwei Luo, Eugenio Menegon, Mark Meulenbeld, Tobie Meyer-Fong, Harry Miller, Tracy Miller, Emily Mokros, Oliver Moore, D. E. Mungello, James Robson, Bill Rowe, Gershon Shafir, Vivienne Shue, Jeff Snyder-Reinke, Deborah Sommer, Yang Su, Takashi Sue, Michael Szonyi, Harold Tanner, Ann Waltner, Chelsea Wang, Sixiang Wang, Rob Weller, Thomas Wilson, Chuck Wooldridge, Yi-Li Wu, and Roberta Wue. Friends, that I am jamming you all into one list for purposes of publication does not mean I have forgotten your individual contributions, and I am very grateful. I would like to thank Ye Baomin, who worked through some whole texts with me when I was learning the premortem genre; and Meghan Cai, Bob Hymes, Xiaofei Kang, Liu Hsiang-kwang, Weijing Lu, Bruce Rusk, Richard Wang, Stephen West, and Ting Zhang for help with puzzling words, phrases, or sentences. Richard Madsen’s work shaped the way I think about values, and I am happy to be his colleague at UCSD. I am grateful to colleagues who critiqued a draft of chapter 7, including Nancy Caciola, Suzanne Cahill, Denise Demetriou, Claire Edington, Karl Gerth, Nancy Kwak, Guang Lei, and Pamela Radcliff. The introduction benefited from thoughtful comments by my former colleague Joe Esherick; my fellow Humanities Fellows Gloria Chacon,

Acknowledgments

xiii

Cristina Rivera Garza, Kwai Ng, Fernando Dominguez Rubio, and Alena Williams; and my father and my son. Matt Wills made excellent points about several chapters. Then there are the saints who read the whole manuscript at various times: Bob Hymes, John Dardess, Michael Szonyi, Joe Dennis, an anonymous reader, Ann Waltner, Bruce Tindall, and Felipe Pait. I heartily thank them all for their detailed and helpful criticisms and suggestions. Needless to say, I bear sole responsibility for remaining errors. I deeply appreciate the support of my friend Martha A. L. Schulman; my godbrother Tim Anderson; my sisters, Rachel and Hannah Schneewind; my aunt Helen and uncle Sebastian Brock; my late great-uncle Buzz Borges; my mother-in-law, Blossom Tindall; and ­especially my parents, Jerry and Elizabeth Schneewind. I am grateful for my mother’s insistence that humans have, or ought to have, a life outside of work, and for my father’s approach to understanding ideas in historical context. Most of all, I thank Bruce McGarrity Tindall and Leo Franklin Schneewind Tindall for their consistent willingness to take care of me in multiple dimensions and to discuss just one more cool story about living shrines.

Abbreviations

General DMB Dictionary of Ming Biography j. juan 卷 jr. juren 舉人 js. jinshi 進士

Reign Period Codes CH Chenghua CZ Chongzhen HZ Hongzhi JJ Jiajing KX Kangxi LQ Longqing SZ Shunzhi TQ Tianqi WL Wanli YL Yongle ZD Zhengde ZT Zhengtong

xvi Abbreviations

Provincial Codes BZ Beizhili FJ Fujian GD Guangdong GX Guangxi GZ Guizhou HG Huguang HN Henan JX Jiangxi LD Liaodong NZ Nanzhili SC Sichuan SD Shandong SH Shaanxi SX Shanxi YN Yunnan ZJ Zhejiang

Chronology

Major Dynastic Periods Shang 1554–1045 BC Zhou 1045–256 BC Qin 221–207 BC Han 206 BC–AD 220 Sui 581–617 Tang 618–907 Song 960–1276 Yuan 1234–1367 Ming 1368–1644 Qing 1644–1911

Ming Reign Eras Hongwu 1368–98 (posthumous title Taizu) Jianwen 1399–1402 Yongle 1403–24 Hongxi 1425 Xuande 1426–35

xviii Chronology

Zhengtong 1436–49 (title Yingzong) Jingtai 1450–56 Tianshun 1457–64 (Yingzong restored to throne) Chenghua 1465–87 Hongzhi 1488–1505 Zhengde 1506–21 Jiajing 1522–66 Longqing 1567–72 Wanli 1573–1620 Taichang 1620 Tianqi 1621–27 Chongzhen 1628–44

Introduction

S

ecular and sacred intertwined in Great Ming. To hold Heaven’s Mandate to rule, the emperor had to carry out ritual duties properly, heed wise men, and secure his subjects’ lives and livelihood. Shrines and temples stood beside and inside palaces and government offices. Complex and violent debates swirled around both practical policies and ritual offerings. This book brings together two aspects of these debates often dismissed as hollow shams: rhetorical concern about the common people and shrines that housed images of living men. One of the earliest books written in Ming times recorded a common view of the body politic as expressed by successful official Chen Tianxiang of the preceding Yuan dynasty: The relationship of the dynastic family with the common people is that superior and inferior form one body: the people are the blood and breath of the dynasty, and the dynasty is the flesh and bones of the people. . . . If the people are rich, then the dynasty will be rich; if the people are poor, then the dynasty will be poor; peace for the people is peace for the dynasty; difficulties for the people mean difficulties for the dynasty; and this is how the pattern goes.1

A healthy ruling class requires a healthy economic base: that seems like common sense. But the Mandate of Heaven ideology also linked 1. Song Lian, Yuanshi 13/168/3945 (that is, vol. 13, juan 168, p. 3945).

2 Introduction

the ruler with deities and cosmic forces.2 Heaven, also known as the Jade Emperor or God-on-High, would warn and eventually remove a dynasty that failed to assure the people’s livelihood. As the first Ming emperor, posthumously titled Taizu or “Great Ancestor,” commented: Above I fear Heaven and below I fear Earth. In between I fear people! . . . Now, the people’s lord is the one who takes Heaven as his father and Earth as his mother and acts as the mother and father of the people. . . . If I cannot bring peace to this people under the canopy of the sky, this would be losing the heart-mind of the people. It is like that! How can I not be afraid?3

Taizu positioned himself as the child of Heaven and Earth and the parent of his subjects. Authority over people meant responsibility to them. Real exploitation and neglect by the dynasty and the ruling class often overwhelmed the pragmatic and religious theory of the people as the foundation of the state. Yet I will argue that rhetoric expressing the sacred aspect of Ming rule did, in fact, also empower its subjects. The second side of my story is institutional. Temples large and small across the Ming landscape combined politics and religion. They honored exemplars and deities, taught core values, and mediated prayers for help. The emperor worshiped Heaven and Earth at vast complexes in the capital. Officials in every jurisdiction made offerings to natural forces and hungry ghosts at open-air altars, to exemplars and heroes in roofed shrines, and to the City God and Confucius in larger temples. Families venerated ancestors on home altars; schools honored benefactors within their walls. Every community maintained temples and smaller shrines housing Daoist and Buddhist figures and deities who had once been human. Among these shrines stood some that honored men who were still alive. Yuan official Chen Tianxiang, for instance—the man quoted above—had acted on his belief that the people’s livelihood took priority. 2. On the religious and cosmic nature of the Ming state see Jiang, Mandate of Heaven; Lagerwey, China: A Religious State; and Taylor, “Cosmos and History.” 3. Yu Jideng, Huangming diangu jiwen 3/12 (p. 145).

Introduction

3

As the Yuanshi puts it, “In every arrangement Tianxiang made, he followed the yearnings of the masses.” After he showed mercy to locals whom poverty had led into banditry, the common people of his jurisdiction put his image into a shrine.4 Such “living shrines” or “premortem shrines” (shengci), dating back to Han times, often centered on rhetoric about the people’s livelihood. Ming people saw some living shrines as worthy and others as questionable, and their doubts have echoed more loudly in the halls of history than has their enthusiasm. Twentieth-century reformers mocked living shrines as merely embodying corrupt tradition, and post-imperial historians have often overlooked or even hidden them or have treated them as uniformly bizarre and wrong. The role of living shrines in the dramatic late Ming power struggle between Wei Zhongxian and the Donglin Party is one reason for this treatment. A closer look at that well-known case will reveal a central aspect of the politics around living shrines, one fleshed out in this book’s exploration of hundreds of shrines across all of Ming space and time.

Wei Zhongxian versus the Donglin Party The most famous—most infamous—living shrines in history are those that honored eunuch dictator Wei Zhongxian. In 1626, fifty or more shrines honoring the same man sprang up, reaching right out to the borders of the 1.5 million square miles of Great Ming. Small shrines consisting of one courtyard with a building of four columns appeared everywhere around Beijing. Others were large temple complexes, their main buildings roofed with gleaming glazed tiles. Shrines to Wei stood beside the imperial tombs and beside the capital’s Confucian temple. Bejeweled images and elaborate decorations called for the protection of armed guards and cost several hundred thousand taels of private and public gold and silver. The scale was truly imperial: in the old capital of Kaifeng ten huge columns supported a grand hall. Countless trees fell to supply beams, and



4. Song Lian, Yuanshi 13/168/3944.

4 Introduction

hundreds of homes were demolished. At least sixty scholar-officials participated in the shrine building.5 A stone inscription of praise accompanied each shrine; one such stele still stands—a yard across, a foot thick, twelve feet tall.6 Each shrine centered on an image of palace eunuch Wei Zhongxian: wood, bronze, or gold-plated. Minister Huang Yuntai welcomed Wei’s image into a new-built shrine with five bows and three kowtows—the protocol required for an imperial audience—and then led the assembled civil and military officials in bowing and personally thanked the image with more kowtows for aid rendered.7 His obsequiousness so embarrassed bystanders that sweat soaked their backs all the way down to their heels.8 “It was as if the whole world at that time had gone crazy,” commented a later writer.9 A high provincial official could only bow his head in acquiescence as two of his subordinates set up a gold-plated image in a grand hall. When one official sighed that a shrine did not belong on the street the emperor traversed to the National University, he was fired. There was no recourse, for the emperor himself had approved the shrines.10 Wei Zhongxian, an illiterate street tough, like other poor men had had himself castrated to enter the palace, where he befriended the sickly Tianqi emperor and formed canny alliances with some scholarofficials. His chief rivals were a faction of scholar-officials centered on the Donglin Academy, who called themselves righteous men and who had dominated the central government from around 1620.11 Wei displaced them and struck back hard when they repeatedly impeached 5. Mingshi 21/245/6367–68, 26/360/7846–47, 26/360/7867–70. I count about fifty living shrines to Wei Zhongxian in the Mingshi. Naquin, Peking, says supposedly there were more than one hundred, including nine in Beijing (166). 6. “Beijing shike yishu bowuguan,” 82. For composition of the stele texts by someone not afraid to attack Confucius himself, Mingshi 26/360/7846–47. 7. Mingshi 26/360/7869. 8. Wen Bing, Xianbo zhishi, 113. 9. Zheng Zhongkui, Yu zhu xin tan 7/9 (504). 10. Mingshi 2/22/306, 26/360/7869. 11. For the basic facts, see Atwell, “T’ai-chang, T’ien-ch’i, and Ch’ung-chen,” 592–613. For a more detailed and recent account, see Dardess, Blood and History.

Introduction

5

him. It was in 1626, at the very time when he was extorting, torturing, and murdering Donglin men, that his party proposed the building of shrines housing his image. Even as they suffered arrest and atrocities at Wei’s hands and fought for their lives and property, the Donglin men spared energy to write vociferously and voluminously objecting to Wei’s living shrines. Even after Wei’s fall from power and suicide, a 1627 memorial warned the new Chongzhen emperor that leaving the shrines in place would encourage rebellion.12 They were rapidly pulled down or turned to other uses.13 But the Donglin outrage has lasted, and its echoes in the official Ming History go a long way toward explaining why post-imperial historians have treated the whole idea of shrines to the living as abnormal, ridiculous, and perverse.14 Premortem shrines appear in history, fiction, and polemic as symbols of unprecedented corruption, self-aggrandizement, and despotism.15 Even historians who recognize the phenomenon treat it as unusual: “The usual practice,” write the editors of the Dictionary of Ming Biography, “was to let a number of years elapse after the death of an official before dedicating a shrine to him; to do so while he was still alive meant either extreme flattery, as 12. Gu Yingtai, Mingshi jishi benmo 66/1045. 13. Most famously, one honors five Suzhou commoners executed for leading a protest again Wei. Atwell, “T’ai-chang, T’ien-ch’i, and Ch’ung-chen,” 613; Mingshi 22/256/6610; Naquin, Peking, 166. 14. Cai Jingxian, Zhongguo gudai mingren zhuan, 246: shrines to the living were very rarely seen. Wang Heming, Zhongguo citang, 227: premortem enshrinement was relatively rare, reserved for the very prominent or those who had greatly influenced society or the masses, or for the powerful and corrupt, like Wei Zhongxian. See also Fryslie, “Inside Out,” 104. Some writers simultaneously report and overlook them. Dean, Lord of the Three in One, for example, excludes living shrines from a list of ritual spaces and assumes that all cult objects are dead (p. 42) yet reports that religious leader Lin Zhao’en contributed land in 1562 to a shrine to General Qi Jiguang (d. 1567) (p. 77). 15. Fan Shuzhi, Quan yu xue, 106–14; Dennis Bloodworth and Ching Ping Bloodworth, Chinese Machiavelli, 257. Huhai Shanren, The Classic of Cheating, in the chapter “The Art of Manipulating Power,” has a section called “The Grand Eunuch Who Built Shrines While He Was Still Alive,” stressing absurdity. In Li Boyuan’s 1903 novel promoting reform, Wenming xiao shi, chapter 11 is titled “. . . the Prefect is embarrassed by the destruction of a shrine erected to commemorate his merits” (Li Boyuan, Wenming xiao shi 11/90–96, trans., Lancashire, Modern Times, 101–6).

6 Introduction

in the case of the eunuch Wei [‌Zhongxian‌], or sincere gratitude.”16 As we shall see, however, premortem shrines were not unusual in Ming times, and they fulfilled a number of functions that encompassed but went beyond both flattery and gratitude. This complexity appears even in the Ming History itself. The succeeding Qing dynasty (1644–1911) compiled the Ming His­ tory, as Ming had written the history of Yuan, to support governance by dispensing “praise and blame” (bao bian) that would both teach about right and wrong in matters of policy and personnel, and help spirits and karmic processes settle injustices by rectifying reputations.17 Wei’s misdeeds and his shrines hold a noticeable place in the Ming History. Opposing or building shrines to Wei Zhongxian signaled goodness or wickedness. For instance, the biography of Donglin philosopher and official Zou Yuanbiao mentions that Zhu Tongmeng, who impeached Zou, built a Wei Zhongxian shrine: Zhu was bad, and Zou was good.18 Librarian He won praise for telling Wei to his face that, no, he certainly had not petitioned to build Wei shrines in Huguang; Wei stomped out of He’s house and fired him the next day.19 But within the pages of the Ming History, alongside these righteous officials and others who opposed shrines to earlier living palace eunuchs and to earlier living corrupt officials, we meet heroes enshrined while alive for military achievements at the beginning, middle, and end of the Ming

16. The Dictionary of Ming Biography hides premortem enshrinement, for example, by reordering the Ming History report on offerings to Hai Rui’s portrait, moving it from after his retirement to after his death (p. 477 and Mingshi 19/226/5932). Other DMB entries recognize premortem enshrinement. Of the approximately seventy indexed cases in DMB of “temples or shrines, to men of note,” fifty-five entries specify or imply posthumous enshrinement and about thirteen, premortem. Premortem examples include Guo Ying (781); Pang Shangpeng (1114); Xiao Daheng (545); Hu Zongxian (635); Tan Lun (1244—shrine called a “monument”); and Wu Guolun (1489). 17. Moloughney, “From Biographical History to Historical Biography,” 1. Dynastic historiography had other purposes, too. 18. Mingshi 21/243/6306. 19. Mingshi 22/264/6815–16. He Fengsheng also requested lenience for a general whom he particularly disliked. Both stories show that he put righteousness above personal considerations.

Introduction

7

period.20 We meet good officials to whom shrines were dedicated in their jurisdictions while they were still alive.21 Wei’s living shrines are not the only ones in the Ming History, nor were living shrines necessarily wicked or absurd. In fact, the Ming History tones down the ­accounts by Donglin partisans—omitting the bystanders sweating with embarrassment and admitting that some conscientious officials had no choice but to curry favor with Wei.22 Why did Wei’s shrines upset the Donglin men so much? Simply put, it was because of their own close relations with living shrines. Donglin affiliates celebrated many premortem shrines. Li Sicheng, who as minister of rites in 1626 clashed twice with Wei Zhongxian, about twelve years earlier had bidden farewell to a county magistrate with an essay noting that locals would recall him with gratitude at his shrine.23 When Gong Mian was enshrined in the Chengnan Academy while still alive, Donglin founder Gu Xiancheng wrote the commemorative inscription.24 Han Kuang commemorated a colleague’s living shrine shortly before the creation of the Wei Zhongxian shrines he 20. Earlier eunuch shrines, Mingshi 17/201/5318, 17/191/5054–55; Gu Cheng, who conquered the Southwest for Taizu, Mingshi 13/144/4073–77; Li Huaixin, who defended Gansu in 1612, Mingshi 20/265/6228–29; Huang Degong of the Southern Ming, Mingshi 23/268/6903. Many of the mid-sixteenth-century officials who fought pirates were also enshrined alive. 21. E.g., Tang Boyuan as magistrate of Wannian and Taihe, Mingshi 24/282/7257. 22. Mingshi 26/360/7869; Wen Bing, Xianbo zhishi, 113. The Ming History compilers say that some responsible officials had had little choice but to flatter Wei (Mingshi 26/360/7867). 23. DMB, 819. Li appears on Wei Zhongxian’s Donglin blacklists (Harry Miller, personal communication, March 2013); and he spoke up for another official jailed for clashing with Wei (1736 NZ Jiangnan tongzhi 144/33). Li Sicheng, “Preface for Magistrate Chen [‌Yu‌]’s Promotion to Magistrate of Shangyuan.” (Footnotes cite local gazetteers by date of publication, a two-letter provincial code, and title; the second section of the bibliography lists them alphabetically by province. Footnotes cite premortem steles and a few other key sources by author and English translation of title; the corresponding Chinese titles appear in the first section of the bibliography.) 24. Gu Xiancheng, “Record of the Living Shrine and Eternal Yearning Stele at the City South Academy to Mr. Gong [‌M ian‌] Yisuo.” Gong Mian had already been enshrined while alive in a building where he used to teach in Jiaxing Prefecture; see Lu Guangzu, “Stele Record of the Living Shrine to Prefect Gong [‌M ian‌].” Later chapters discuss these sources.

8 Introduction

deplored.25 Minister of Rites Li Biao, a Donglin ally who helped Han Kuang compile the list of wicked Wei Zhongxian partisans, in 1642 wrote a record that complained about the number of unjustified honors for incumbent magistrates—precisely in order to celebrate a welldeserved living shrine.26 The Donglin faction opposed Wei’s shrines but celebrated others. And living shrines celebrated Donglin men. Ouyang Dongfeng was a Donglin partisan and supporter of public lecture–study practice (jiangxue) for reaching a broader, nonofficial audience. In the 1590s, he had gone over the heads of his superiors to get help for his jurisdiction in a natural disaster, and grateful locals enshrined him while he was still alive.27 Lü Weiqi, who wrote to gentry in Kaifeng urging them to fight the Wei shrines, as prefectural judge in Yanzhou in 1614–19 had earned living shrines for thwarting a sectarian rebellion.28 Jiang Zhili, whom Wei Zhongxian forced into retirement, was enshrined in Quanzhou while still alive; a stele assures the reader that Jiang certainly did not aim at enshrinement when he undertook the project being commem­ orated.29 Ding Qijun, who spoke up for Zhou Shunchang and another Donglin partisan when Wei imprisoned them, was enshrined while alive in his native place.30 Li Shoujun, who avoided the nationwide order to set up shrines to Wei Zhongxian by giving up a post, had been enshrined alive by merchants grateful for a tax reduction.31 Minister Li Zongyan, stripped of his rank by the Wei faction, had been enshrined

25. Han Kuang, “Record of the Virtuous Governance of Mr. Li [‌Xuanyou‌]”; Chen Ding, Donglin liezhuan 17/19–20; DMB, 48. 26. DMB, 484; Li Biao, “Gone Yet Remembered Record of the Benevolent Magistrate of Yuan[‌shi‌] Mr. Zhang [‌Shenxue‌] Quzheng”; Mingren zhuanji ziliao suoyin, 222. 27. 1684 NZ Xinghua xianzhi 3/847; Mingshi 20/231/6033. 28. DMB, 1015. 29. Li Guangjin, “Record of the Landholdings of the Shrine to the Living Prefect Jiang [‌Zhili‌]”; Mingshi 20/237/6168–69. 30. 1737 FJ Fujian tongzhi 45/ (i.e. juan 45); He Qiaoyuan, “Stele for the Premortem Shrine to Mr. Ding [‌Qijun‌].” 31. Chen Ding, Donglin liezhuan, 19/20.

Introduction

9

alive; so had at least three Donglin partisans who served in Yuanshi County.32 Wei Zhongxian’s shrines appalled Donglin men precisely because they themselves had adopted the institution as part of what Ying Zhang has recently dubbed “Confucian image politics.”33 By accepting so many shrines, in so many places, Wei made a mockery of the very ­serious matter of premortem shrine practice and rhetoric. Harry Miller has argued that Donglin partisans and other landed, educated Ming men, whether in or out of office—that is, gentry—claimed that they, not the throne, properly held what he calls “sovereignty,” the right to make national policy. In the Wanli era, gentry making such claims challenged fiscal reformer and centralizer Grand Secretary Zhang ­Juzheng; in the Tianqi era, they fought Wei Zhongxian.34 It may be that Wei desired enshrinement not out of mere vanity, but to enhance his political standing and the authority of the throne he spoke for. The Donglin circle could not allow Wei’s challenge to stand. That he claimed the very institution that honored so many Donglin men constituted an intolerable attack on their authority, in ways that will be clear by the end of this book.

Why Study Living Shrines? Setting aside late Ming high politics, premortem shrines deserve study for six reasons. First, they raise intriguing questions about religious conceptions. In the Ming cosmos every part potentially resonated with every other part in a process called “movement and response” (gan­ ying). The spheres of politics and religion—both spheres of personal 32. Zhang Dujing, Zheng Sanjun, and Su Ji’ou. 1774 HN Henan tongzhi 60/28; 1692 SD Ji’nan fuzhi 25/62–63; Zhao Minshuo, “Stele Record of the Virtuous Governance of Yuanshi County Magistrate Mr. Zhang [‌Dujing‌]”; Wei Kewan, “Stele on the Virtuous Governance of Yuanshi County Magistrate Mr. Zheng [‌Sanjun‌],” 6/46 (609). 33. Ying Zhang, Confucian Image Politics. 34. Harry Miller, State versus Gentry, 2–3. On using the word “right” to describe a claim on some good in Chinese thought, see Solinger, “Three Welfare Models,” 980. I see no reason to avoid the term, since we use other etic terms like class and society.

10 Introduction

and public vice and virtue—were connected, through the impersonal laws of karma, through the responses of Heaven and Earth to human actions, and through lesser spirits with clearer personalities, from gods of various kinds to strange old nature cults to demons. The spirits of dead humans also played a role in the resonant cosmos. Shrines and temples to dead humans showcased exemplars and settled abandoned ghosts so they would not cause disaster. Some such spirits might also efficaciously answer prayers for assistance by doing miracles. What about the spirits of living men? In the 1930s, Katō Genchi treated premortem shrines as a normal phenomenon in world religion and as continuous with postmortem shrines, calling both “anthropolatry.”35 But it is not a foregone conclusion that the two types were the same or that shrines to the living entered the economy of miracle making and recognition to which posthumous and divine temples belonged.36 Premortem shrines complicate basic dichotomies like presence and absence, honor and worship, virtue (de) and spiritual efficacy (ling), life and death. Most Ming people drew on all three major religious traditions as well as popular religion, and my basically Confucian sources include flashes of Buddhism and Daoism that I assume were more extensive in practice.37 Second, living shrines were built over two millennia and across East Asia.38 They occur in every dynastic history from the Latter Han onwards, as Japanese scholars documented in the 1930s.39 In Song times, 35. Katō, Honpō seishi no kenkyū. Katō, who ran a study group on the topic, reports varying opinions on living shrines. One Christian thought some living shrines could express sincere admiration for good governance, even if others signaled decay and flattery, as Chosŏn writer Chŏng Yag-yong thought (Katō’s appendix 2, 377). 36. Hansen, Changing Gods. This study appeared in 1990, aligning it with the scholarship on the public sphere discussed below. 37. Robson, “Searching for a Better Return,” studies arrangements people made in advance of their own deaths. Premortem images received veneration in Buddhist and Daoist traditions; see Foulk and Sharf, “Ritual Use of Ch’an Portraiture”; and Campany, Making Transcendents, 180–83. 38. Katō, Honpō seishi no kenkyū, chap. 3; Ledyard, “Confucianism and War,” 109. 39. Osabe, “Shina seishi shoko,” and Katō, Honpō seishi no kenkyū. Mu-chou Poo presents a number of premortem enshrinements, arguing that they sometimes amounted to apotheosis and sometimes did not. Poo, In Search of Personal Welfare, 149, 151, 196, 212.

Introduction

11

as all shrines multiplied, so did they.40 Just to give one example, loyal official Tiger Zhou (Zhou Hu) and his mother were both enshrined alive in 1207, he for fighting to protect Hezhou from Jin forces and she for bankrolling the effort.41 Song living shrines may well have played some of the same roles as in Ming times; I do not study them here. Yuan living shrines fed seamlessly into Ming practice: for instance, Liaodong people dedicated such a shrine to Xu De, a northern Red Turban commander who joined the Ming forces in 1366.42 Post-Ming gentry enshrined pirate king and turncoat Zheng Zhilong along the Fujian coast during his lifetime, and Qing and Nationalist officials were enshrined alive.43 With respect to place, premortem enshrinement occurred from the Liaodong peninsula to Guizhou and Yunnan, from Gansu to the tip of the Leizhou peninsula in Guangdong. The ubiquity and longevity of the premortem shrine earn it a place in historiography. A third reason to study living shrines is to consider the role of reputation in individual, family, and community choices. The Ming landscape was littered with monuments to individuals that were essentially private, like tombs and pavilions at poetic spots, and others that represented a relation of living and dead family members to the state, such as arches granted by the center to honor graduates of the civil service examinations and chaste widows. Living shrines were part of a repertoire of local honors that embodied a broader community relation to the state. The repertoire was a set of strategies to incorporate transient bureaucrats into localities long term. It included extravagant displays of grief at parting, naming practices, songs and steles, the retention of items of apparel, certain poetic and historical tropes, and the well-known but poorly understood “parental metaphor”: calling officials “the father-and-mother of the people.”44 In keeping with the 40. Hansen, Changing Gods; Chen Wenyi, “Cong chaoting dao difang,” 61. 41. 1575 NZ Hezhou zhi, 401. 42. 1537 LD Liaodong zhi 6/63 (639). 43. Huang Zhenzhen, “Ming-Qing zhi ji Fujian Zheng Zhilong.” A late Qing minister wrote about a living shrine (Weng Tonghe riji 4/1902). Katō saw one in Hangzhou in 1914 (Honpō seishi no kenkyū, 376). See Ebrey, Chinese Civilization, 376, on one by and for warlord Zhang Zongchang, and C. K. Yang, Religion in Chinese Society, 175, on a shrine built in the Nationalist era. 44. Schneewind, “Political Science of Ming.”

12 Introduction

May Fourth–style contempt for traditional government natural to those whose parents and even grandparents had grown up under the beleaguered post–Opium War Qing, Kung-ch’üan Hsiao saw such honors as managed by corrupt gentry flattering officials in hope of favors, despite their claims to “represent the spontaneous or genuine sentiment of the common people.”45 The negative view may seem to be substantiated by Ming mockery of the institution; one text that does so, for instance, is the opera Peony Pavilion.46 But Ming people mocked everything at one time or another, and if all honors had been fake, people would not have bothered to mock, let alone to pursue, manipulate, suspect, and test them. Career officials knew that they could earn local honors as well as self-respect or self-contempt; the respect or contempt of their families, their peers, and succeeding generations of scholar-officials; and promotions, demotions, punishments, and posthumous honors from the central state. Without recognizing this widespread and well-known phenomenon, we cannot understand the motives and choices of the men who ran the empire. Fourth, living shrines embodied core values. Scholars have considered other standard rituals worth study for being at the heart of “Chineseness.”47 Ancestral temples centered on the Confucian value of filial piety; we study them without knowing whether particular parents were nurturing or particular sons loving. As a ritual site, living shrines expressed another core Confucian value: that rulers and officials should tend to the popular livelihood and attend to popular feeling, and subjects should recompense that care.48 As one writer put it, premortem shrines were supposed to “originate in the sincerity of the love and admiration in the people’s minds for those who were effective and

45. Hsiao, Rural China, 436–37. 46. Volpp, “Texts, Tutors, and Fathers,” 48. 47. Watson, “Structure of Chinese Funerary Rites,” 3. 48. Davis, “Arms and the Tao.” A cult to strange mountain spirits claimed respectability through a cover story that it had begun as a living shrine. Ministers of rites who commemorated premortem shrines included Zhou Hongmo, who coauthored a 1488 memorial on cult reform (Schneewind, Community Schools, 76–81).

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13

virtuous” and were intended to “reciprocate virtue and repay merit.”49 Osabe Kazuo was less dismissive than Hsiao of local honors: although some living shrines merely served gentry networks, he concluded, others truly expressed how “commoners” (minjian) appreciated good officials and objected to the more common corrupt and harsh governance.50 Likewise, sociologist C. K. Yang described the cults to living and dead men in every community as “dedicated to local leaders and officials who in their lifetime had prominently served the public interest, sometimes by sacrificing their lives and fortunes. These . . . served as virtuous exemplars for later generations because of their great deeds.”51 Ming people knew that living shrines served both sincere and corrupt purposes, just as any core value produced hypocrisy. Studying this institution expands knowledge of what it was possible to think and do in Ming times, whether or not particular officials were benevolent or particular communities grateful.

Public Opinion and Ming Populism A fifth reason to study shrines is that they reveal possibilities for political speech and action by locals within the autocratic, bureaucratic Ming state.52 Scholarship on the possibilities of a late imperial “public sphere of civil society” permitting all citizens freely to organize associations, assemble, debate issues of general interest, and express their

49. Zhang Sheng, “Record for the Premortem Shrine to Prefect Xie [‌Shiyuan‌].” Also quoted in Zhao Kesheng, “Mingdai shengci xianxiang,” 127. 50. Osabe, “Shina seishi shoko,” 39, 43, 44. 51. C. K. Yang, Religion in Chinese Society, 161. 52. I use “the state” to mean the institutions of violence, resource appropriation, and other aspects of government that maintained the control of the dynasty (the Zhu family) over its territory in ways that remained somewhat constant from 1368 to 1644 and to refer to the particular decision makers at a given time. “The state” thus includes all officials, even those often confusingly called “local officials” (i.e., resident administrators) and their office staff and police forces, so I distinguish “the central state” when necessary. European theory at this time did not yet fully abstract the state from its incumbents (Skinner, “The State,” esp. 98–104).

14 Introduction

opinions exploded after the Tiananmen Movement of 1989.53 While simultaneously questioning the validity of a search for European theoretical constructs in Chinese history, historians and anthropologists have located legal voluntary associations at all levels of Chinese society, in the religious sphere and elsewhere, linked to the state with varying degrees of intensity.54 Such organizations did not necessarily oppose the state, but rather played, in William T. Rowe’s words, “a role in fostering a participatory mentality . . . from late Ming onward.”55 But this scholarship generally saw late imperial “public opinion” (gong­ lun and related terms)—a recognized, legal arena of debate on issues of governing—as limited in several ways. First, it was “strictly local,” not addressing national issues until after the Taiping rebellion of the mid-nineteenth century. 56 Second, it lacked a medium of publication.57 Third, it represented the opinions only of elite men or, even more exclusively, only officials.58 Fourth, as in Europe at the time, it might mean merely impartial truth: Qing official Chen Hongmou seriously considered and even followed “public opinion” yet held that it ultimately boiled down to what he thought was right, and Chen quoted Ming reformer Lü Kun: “Public opinion is definitely not whatever happens to be uttered by the masses. If everyone is wrong on an issue and but one man is correct, then public opinion lies with that one man.”59 The picture is of a public opinion limited to highly educated gentry in a close relation to the state. But this scholarship centers on Qing times, which Rudolf Wagner has noted marked “a very low ebb” in public involvement in policy 53. Wakeman, “Civil Society and the Public Sphere,” 112. Mary Backus Rankin and R. Keith Schoppa both published books related to the issue in 1982. 54. For a retrospective overview, see Weller, Alternate Civilities, esp. 14–17, 83–84. 55. Rowe, “Problem of ‘Civil Society,’” 147. 56. Rowe, “Problem of ‘Civil Society,’” 153; Rankin, “Some Observations,” 170. 57. Wakeman, “Civil Society and the Public Sphere,” 127–28; Rankin, “‘Public Opinion,’” 453. 58. Rankin, “Some Observations,” 162; Rankin, “‘Public Opinion,’” 453; Judge, “Public Opinion,” 66. 59. Rowe, “Problem of ‘Civil Society,’” 153; Rowe, Saving the World, 376. For “public opinion” as impartial truth perhaps recognized by only one sincere man, see also Dardess, “Civil Society,” 48. For Europe, see Gunn, “Public Opinion.”

Introduction

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debates.60 If we consider what Roger V. Des Forges, Kai-wing Chow, Frederic Wakeman, and others have called Ming “populism,” we might expect a different political picture in Ming. Populism had many facets. The commercial economy facilitated physical movement and aspirations to social mobility, as did recruitment for office through civil service examinations.61 Late Ming gentry-led charitable associations not only included commoners but explicitly imitated their forms of organization.62 While a small elite dominated political speech and writing, the ideas and organized forums of political and philosophical speech of the Wang Yangming school—which taught that a person of any rank could become a sage—let loose a flood of such speech in popular and populist channels.63 People literate at a variety of levels devoured publications of every kind, including gazettes reporting on official business and plays, songs, and stories about public affairs.64 Ming people from the emperor on down had direct access not only to cheap books, but to spirits’ knowledge that might create new scriptures through a professional spirit medium—a commoner—using the planchette.65 Lynn Struve and others have pointed out a “spirit of revolt” in late Ming China, manifested in bondservant rebellions, refusal to pay rent, worker strikes, sectarian movements, troop mutinies, and rural uprisings.66 Social mobility, organizations, philosophical movements, cheap 60. Wagner, “Early Chinese Newspapers,” 7. 61. However rarely, some officials did come from very humble backgrounds. Yang Nianqun, “Middle-Range Theory,” 117, 144. 62. Smith, Art of Doing Good, 46–50, 97, 116. 63. Dardess, “Civil Society”; Wakeman, “Boundaries of the Public Sphere,” 168– 70. But this populism focused on lecturing to the people and paternalistically caring for them rather than on listening to them. See Ching, To Acquire Wisdom, 131–35, 209–11. 64. Yuming He, Home and the World; Hammond, “Wang Shizhen,” 65; Mittler, Newspaper for China, chap. 3; Hardie, “Self-Representation.” 65. The planchette is a tray of ash or sand one writes in with a chopstick. Zeitlin, “Spirit Writing,” 103, 109. A planchette manual appears in a 1478 collection by Fujian Senior Administrative Vice-Commissioner Li Ang (Boltz, “Legacy of Zigu,” 363, 383); Li was enshrined alive (Ming Xiaozong shilu 53/61/1187–88, for Hongzhi 5.3 [‌April 1492‌]). For a political use of the planchette under Jiajing, see Pollard, Real Life in China, 75–76. 66. Struve, Southern Ming, 13–14.

16 Introduction

books, participatory religion, and class struggle have all contributed to the label of “populism” being applied to Ming, especially late Ming. Within this broadly populist culture, there were explicitly political elements. At court, Charles Hucker explains, most proposals affecting basic policy, even if they originated from censors, outer officials, or nonofficials, went through the relevant ministry (Revenue, Personnel, Works, Justice, War, Rites) before grand secretaries, after variable amounts of discussion, drafted an imperial response. Then the emperor often called for advice from a few ministers or held a court deliberation of a dozen or more officials who threshed out the issues, on a basis of equality, ideally until they all agreed. By custom the emperor had to carry out such a unanimous decision. Moreover, Taizu had given almost all subjects the legal right to petition for redress and to memorialize the throne with suggestions; late in his reign, he had also created avenues for commoners to impeach and even arrest their resident administrators.67 Students (those who had qualified to register in government schools from the county level upwards) were the only group legally denied the right to memorialize, but they engaged in political speech nonetheless.68 One writer has called late Ming “an age when people wanted public opinion to be as loud as possible, whether or not it would be heard by policymakers, [‌and with a‌] common perception of its positive influence on national affairs.”69 Wealth (class) and rank (with the attendant possibility of serving in office) did not fully align— there were wealthy and powerful commoners. Alongside the old and 67. Hucker, “Governmental Organization,” 64–66; Schneewind, “Visions and Revisions,” and the scholarship cited there, esp. Lin, “System of Direct Petition.” 68. For the ban on student speech, see Schneewind, “Visions and Revisions,” 330. Students could express political views in the policy questions on provincial exams (Elman, Cultural History of Civil Examinations, 445; Elman, “New Answers to Old Questions”). Von Glahn, “Municipal Reform,” shows students cooperating with wealthy commoners on an equal basis in putting forth demands for urban reform in the Jiajing period. Since students were the only group banned from speaking, it made sense for opponents to blame any protest on them; see, for instance, Wakeman, “Price of Autonomy,” 44; and Muzong shilu 93/24/653–56 for Longqing 2.9.renxu (Oct. 6, 1568). Contra Mittler, Newspaper for China, 223, n. 184 (for Qing), a crackdown on student speech need not indicate a broader crackdown. 69. Hu, “Daughter’s Vision,” 209.

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deep (and globally normal) belief in a stable social hierarchy as the source of order, the Ming exhibited what historian Pierre-Étienne Will calls a “deeply internalized principle of egalitarianism,” sometimes played out in rotating leadership or elections to leadership.70 We cannot, without examination, dismiss ordinary people as “traditionally” assuming a posture of “absolute subservience” in politics before midQing.71 Ming living shrines, I will show, provided an institutional focus for “public opinion” of an explicitly populist cast. And public opinion mattered: as one Ming writer explained, it was the primal life-force (qi) of the dynastic nation (guo), on which it had relied for some 240 years, just as a person relied on his primal qi for health.72 Once premortem discourse had been developed, it moved into ­intellectual and political debates. This is the sixth reason for studying living shrines. Everyone could see the likelihood that, to create a patronage relationship, enshrinement might stem from gentry or would-be gentry flattering an official on his way up the career ladder. Honors for an official’s forebears could do such work, too, but in the case of living commemoration the problem appeared acute. The tension between sincere commemoration and corrupt flattery produced genre conventions designed to resolve it in particular cases. Those conventions then contributed to further elaborations of thought in a number of ways. First, the focus in premortem discourse on the emotions of common people as the guarantee of truth and sincerity prefigured the Wang Yangming school’s arguments in the early to middle sixteenth century

70. Will, “Introduction: History Has No End,” 30–31. For gentry statements such as “even people without official positions should take responsibility for carrying out the Way,” see Smith, Art of Doing Good, 46–50, 116, 97. 71. Hung, Protest with Chinese Characteristics, 15. For all protests before midQing, Hung relies (e.g., in tables 2.2 and 3.1) only on a study of urban protests that necessarily excluded rural action. Hung further postulates literati organization of protests, even though he is only sure they were involved in 19 percent of cases (p. 98) and even though his own data show tenants and well-off peasants using posters and pamphlets (pp. 79, 91, 93; for a protest stele, 146). 72. Kong Zhenshi, “Public Opinion the Primal Qi of the Dynasty” 公論國之 元氣 (ca. 1608), in his Zai Lu zhai wenji 3/47–49.

18 Introduction

about the inherent moral capacity of people of all classes.73 Second, as discussed above, the Donglin and eunuch parties later in the sixteenth century adopted and adapted premortem conventions to promote their claims to sovereignty. Third, the local repertoire of honors, including premortem shrines, aimed precisely to counter the alienating logic by which bureaucracy circulated officials quickly from post to post; locals responded by recasting good magistrates as “lords,” a move that informed the early Qing bureaucratic feudalism of Gu Yanwu. Arising out of old ideas in a new context, Ming premortem discourse, by resting the legitimacy of officials on recognition by the people, contributed to further revisions of argument and elaboration of thought. Ming living shrines were and are good to think with precisely because of the contradictions and tensions they embodied.

Departure Steles and Shrine Records The story goes that Magistrate Gao Zhizhi loved bribes yet permitted the setting up of a stone inscription that covered up his corruption by lauding his merit and virtue. Workmen would first have cut a slab of limestone (about six to nine feet high by a yard in breadth). Then artisans carved dragons around the rounded top centered on a seal script title, smoothed the surface, and set the stone into a sculpted ­tortoise-​ shaped base (fig. I.1). One literatus composed a mendacious essay lauding Gao, a second brushed the text in long lines down the smooth front, and an artisan engraved it.74 The titles and names of donors—pressured into contributing or hoping for a favor from Gao—would have been engraved, following the year and month and the stipulation “lucky

73. Wang was perhaps the only person to have as many living shrines as Wei Zhongxian, but these were mainly temporary altars along his route back to the capital after a campaign. Chang, Wang Shou-jen, 27 and note 16; 1684 FJ Fujian tongzhi 32/9b (1909). Liu Jie, “Record of the Premortem Shrine to Capital Censor Mr. Wang Yangming.” 74. For stele production, see Harrist, Landscape of Words, 24, 205, 26, 158, 85, 61. Ming premortem steles ranged from elaborate to very simple and varied in size. A late Ming living shrine that failed within fifteen years has a surviving stele with a seal script heading that is photographed in Ye Hongqi, Tong’an wenwu daguan, 405. Katz lists all the kinds of texts inscribed on stone in Images of the Immortal, 95–96.

Fig. I.1.  Tortoises bearing steles at a posthumous shrine. This illustration of the shrine and tomb of one of Confucius’s disciples shows clearly what the stele-bearing tortoise who rejected Gao Zhizhi’s claim to have governed well would have looked like. What appear to be holes in the tops of the steles probably represent the smoothed-out areas for the seal script headings, although early steles did sometimes have holes from which to hang offerings, underlining their nature as inside-out ritual vessels. Source: 1515+1541 BZ Changyuan xianzhi Maps/6.

20 Introduction

day.” 75 Early in 1611, the head of the stele lauding Gao Zhizhi began to shake, and it shook, for no reason and without stopping, for an entire month. Furthermore, a ploughman nearby turned up an enormous egg, as big as a ten-quart measure. Both the egg and the stele were ordered sunk in the Yellow River, and people sang: “The stele shook its head, the tortoise laid an egg” 碑搖頭虌下蛋. Soon afterwards, Gao Zhizhi himself, the author of the inscription, and the calligrapher were all sentenced to hard labor and exile for committing crimes.76 Clearly, Gao was a bastard (a “turtle’s egg”) who connived with other corrupt elite men to glorify himself. The county residents knew it; the stele and tortoise resented having to lie about it; and Heaven and Earth set the record straight. Ming people, in other words, shared post-imperial historians’ suspicion of the “facts” in commemorations. Nevertheless, steles accompanying living shrines have been my most valuable source for this book. The official Ming History, the Veritable Records of court actions compiled at the end of every Ming reign, epitaphs, and the very short “capsule” biographies in local gazetteers mention premortem enshrinement matter-of-factly but without detail. Local gazetteers provide some institutional history of shrines. They also, like the collected works of the authors of such texts, contain the essays (or records, ji) that constitute the bulk of what I will call the “premortem genre.” I rely mainly on two types of essay. First, as with most temples, schools, and other institutions, when a premortem shrine was built or renovated, donors and sponsors might engrave a record of the event on stone to stand at the building. I call these texts “shrine records.” (I use “shrine” to mean “premortem shrine” unless otherwise specified.) Second, there are stand-alone steles honoring living men. These go by the term “Virtuous Governance Steles” (dezheng bei) and other names, but usually qusi bei: stone inscription about an official who has left his post here yet we 75. Presumably the month when a stele would be erected could be planned, but not the exact day, so “a lucky day” was practical as well as auspicious. Print versions, even those collected from steles in late Qing, usually exclude the donor names. 76. Wang Tonggui, Ertan leizeng 31/6 (narrated as a case of nomenclatural determinism). 1729+1736 SD Shandong tongzhi 15.1/62 and 1735 BZ Jifu tongzhi 26/60 confirm Gao’s native place, degree, and posting as Changyuan magistrate. Steles could also harbor divine items; see Zheng Zhongkui, Yu zhu xin tan 6/2.

Introduction

21

locals still miss him—or “Gone Yet Remembered Stele.”77 I often call these “departure steles.” Premortem shrines and steles commemorating living officials ­appeared together in the law from Tang times onwards and have been studied together.78 But to historians, who produce words, stele texts in their specificity seem more powerful than shrines for offerings. Timothy Brook has written of how steles “textualized the social landscape,” inscribing the prestige and authority of the elite and the government in permanent, dignified stone, while the less wealthy or powerful had recourse only to scrawled graffiti and fleeting, anonymous leaflets or placards.79 Jamie Greenbaum argues that before the seventeenth century, elite men aspired to fame in life and death only through the written record, so the common people, who “were not editing any docu­ ments,” did not contribute to reputations.80 But Ming premortem stele records, composed by literati, present a less literary theory of fame, a theory that ultimately relied on commoners and was instantiated in their hearts and in shrines. We should avoid “textism,” just as Lluis Oviedo has urged caution about a scholarly bias toward the rational.81 Many—perhaps most—premortem shrines evade the historian by having worked without text. Their purposes overlapped with those of steles but were not quite the same. Both were meant to prompt eternal remembrance, but Ming people had mixed feelings about steles: sincere memory should need no prompt, and, unlike people’s hearts, a stone is a mere material object without Heavenly principle.82 In a shrine, they tell us again and again, one makes offerings, not only to remember but to bao—to requite, recompense, repay, reciprocate. 77. The term invokes the ritual practice of intensely yearning for (si) ancestors. For discussion of that practice, see Brashier, Ancestral Memory, 39, 207, 236. See 1632 BZ Gu’an xianzhi 4/8 for a Qusi Shrine (ci), 1882 BZ Huailai xianzhi 11/24 for a Qusi Hall (tang). 78. E.g., Liu Shengjun, “Tangdai ‘shengci libei,’” and Chen Wenyi, “Cong chaoting zhi difang.” See Schneewind, “Can Peculiar Yuan Living Shrines?” 79. Brook, “Communications and Commerce,” 645–47. 80. Greenbaum, Chen Jiru, xxx–xxxi. 81. Oviedo, “Religious Cognition,” 55. 82. Chen Rang, “Stele for the Premortem Shrine to Nan’an Magistrate Tang”; Brashier, Ancestral Memory, 162–63.

22 Introduction

In studying shrines, I rely mostly on stele records. Can we trust what they say? They were themselves public performances that often described and embellished other performances. Even if, as with that turtle’s egg Gao Zhizhi, every detail of action and character in these public commemorations was a lie, the tropes and arguments of the steles—historical artifacts no less real than buildings and stones—­ reveal Ming political claims and conceptions.83 The details that stele essays record of what was said and done may not be “true,” but they were meaningful, or they would not have merited engraving on stone. As for the facts, reading a commemorative genre, I avoid prefacing each claim of merit with words like “supposedly” that often reflect the bias of the secular historian rather than evidence-based doubt. Even outright lies reveal genre convention and the political theory that lay behind it and was further developed within it. I read steles not only to see at a remove what people were doing with premortem shrines but primarily to observe what shrines made it possible to think and write in Ming times. For thought plays a role in even the most traditional practice, while practice lies behind even the most elevated thought. Shrine records and departure steles constitute a genre with well-­ defined tropes: a statement of the locality’s difficulties; a list of the honoree’s concrete accomplishments; a comparison, implicit or explicit, with other officials; a summary of his career to date, sometimes of his later career and, rarely, of his family background; classical or historical allusions; and a narration of public expressions of sorrow at parting. If commemorating a living shrine, the stele describes its sponsors and their conversations about planning; the request to the author for the record; the author’s connection to locals or the enshrinee; the author’s view of the purposes of shrines or of the way to govern; an expression of hopes for the future; and the shrine building and rituals.84 Generally treating the genre as a whole, I point out some developments in Ming premortem discourse, referring to other dynastic periods only when relevant; since I have not researched them any 83. For a premortem stele as a source of economic data, see Xiang Huaicheng, Zhongguo caizheng shi, 16. 84. Following Wilson on genre in Genealogy of the Way, 5–6.

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contrasts are speculative. I have previously published a county case study, and Ho Shu-yi has published a prefectural study, which I will address below.85 The back matter of this book is structured to facilitate clarity and further work by other scholars. The steles I cite (not all of those I read) and a few other primary texts are cited by English translation and appear in part one of the bibliography, listed by author. The local gazetteers I directly refer to are cited by date of publication, a two-letter code for the relevant Ming province (see list of abbreviations), and title, and are listed in the second part of the bibliography (alphabetically by Ming province and then alphabetically within the province). This list gives a sense of geographical coverage, but not all the gazetteers I consulted are listed. The third part of the bibliography lists other primary and secondary sources. Online at the Ming History English Translation Project I have also provided a list of at least fifty more Ming men enshrined alive whom I do not discuss in the book. The index provides dates and native places for individuals discussed in the book. The chapters of this book are arranged to make an argument about premortem shrines in Ming politics overall. Since I am not providing a narrative, let me mention here some moments in Ming history that recur in the book. In the Hongwu reign (1368–98), the Ming founder, Zhu Yuanzhang, or Taizu, cycled through a number of approaches to governance, burdened village families with collecting taxes from their neighbors and delivering them to the capital, and empowered village elders to govern locally and to report on and even arrest their magistrates. These measures faltered, and magistrates and prefects became the key figures in governance. In the high Ming, from about 1475, when the examination system became virtually the only route to office, to sometime in the mid-sixteenth century, activist resident administrators, especially county magistrates, built and demolished institutions and wrote local gazetteers chronicling the counties and their own



85. Schneewind, “Beyond Flattery”; Ho Shu-yi, “Wan Ming de difangguan.”

24 Introduction

­activities.86 The chronological midpoint of the dynasty at 1506 often features as the pivot toward decay, when the Hongzhi emperor, who dutifully listened to Confucian advice, was succeeded by the willful Zhengde, who favored palace eunuchs and others over civil officials. When Zhengde died childless in early 1521, a cousin became the Jiajing emperor (r. 1522–66) and fought bitterly with civil officials over the Great Ritual: whom should he treat as a father, his own father, as he wished, or the Hongzhi emperor? Jiajing won. His interest in ritual regulation continued, as reflected in his ban on images of Confucius in the nationwide temples to the First Teacher that stood beside each county school. Wang Yangming’s school of Confucian philosophy emerged in the early sixteenth century. In the 1540s, the menace of piracy along the coast became severe, until it was finally settled in 1567 by military action, cooperation with the Portuguese, and a policy that permitted more coastal trade. The Wanli era (1573–1619) saw the growth of the Donglin school, the onset of serious factionalism at court, increasing gentry dominance of society, and the arrival of Matteo Ricci and other European Jesuits. The conflicts of the Tianqi reign (1621–28) and the ascendance of Wei Zhongxian have appeared above. The dynasty fell in 1644 to rebellion of desperate commoners within and invasion from without, both aided by disillusioned literati. Part I, “Foundation and Floor,” lays the groundwork for the analysis to follow. Chapter 1, “An Ordinary Institution,” introduces basic facts about living shrines, such as their funding, location, activities, number, longevity, legality, and propriety, and compares them with postmortem shrines and Shrines to Eminent Officials. Chapter 2, “Parentalism,” considers what sorts of men were enshrined while alive and why, testing previous scholarly conclusions. I argue that what we have called “paternalist” government expressed a set of concerns generated from below and expressed in a metaphor that emotionalized the official’s duty to respond to those concerns. Chapter 3, “Worship,” explores whether we should understand live enshrinement as offering honor or worship. Were the shrines primarily religious, and can that account for their establishment across a wide area? The evidence is intriguing but leads



86. See Schneewind, Community Schools, chap. 4.

Introduction

25

back to politics. I propose that living shrines may turn the hoary “bureaucratic metaphor” understanding of popular religion on its head. Part II, “Pillars and Beams,” builds the central argument. Chapter 4, “Political Work,” builds on C. K. Yang’s delineation of the messages sent by premortem shrines and how those messages addressed departing, incumbent, and incoming officials and other audiences, up to the regional and even national levels. The chapter further shows that premortem discourse explicitly validated the local voice in politics, countering the common view that premortem enshrinement constituted no more than intragentry flattery. Chapter 5, “From Flattery to Participation,” argues that Ming worries about fake honors created a dynamic tension that generated a solution—broad popular acclaim—that took on a life of its own. Ming premortem rhetoric valorizing popular emotion was picked up by Donglin and other thinkers, who both pushed it further and reacted conservatively against it. Chapter 6, “Commoners,” addresses Ming social categories as cited in premortem records to ask who sponsored premortem shrines. The key distinction is between gentry and commoners. “Gentry” roughly translates shi (in other sources often shenshi), meaning, at its narrowest, men holding the highest metropolitan civil service examination degree (jinshi) and the provincial degree (juren), the pool from which officials were normally chosen. But low-ranking official posts could be filled by government students, especially National University students; and students along with the families of jinshi and juren were socially, though not legally, “gentry.” All others, whether civilians or soldiers, clergy or laymen, rich or poor, were “commoners,” and their sponsorship of shrines meant that they participated in Ming politics. Part III, “Walls and Roof,” fills in, complicates, and caps the argument. Chapter 7, “A Political Investment,” presents a case study of one county that illustrates in one neat package how premortem shrines sponsored by locals, including commoners, formed part of a repertoire of local honors that constituted legitimate political action with a religious angle. But, like all widespread and long-lived institutions, premortem shrines did many things, so chapter 8, “Complications,” presents some that fall outside the main argument. Chapter 9, “The Minor Mandate,” suggests that Ming people may have adapted the Mandate of Heaven ideology to reconceptualize their relationships

26 Introduction

with the state at the prefectural and county levels. The Conclusion reiterates the major points and offers some final thoughts. “Some may say,” wrote philosopher Wang Dao in about 1543, “that shrines are for serving the spirits [‌and that‌] living shrines are not ancient [‌and are therefore wrong‌]. This is not so.” The principle that “rites arise from righteousness”—permitting innovation—has long been ­accepted, Wang continues. He recounts how a good Song resident administrator who had been enshrined upon departure from Dongchang Prefecture one day at court suddenly felt very drunk. Questioned by the emperor, he replied: “Your minister does not habitually drink. This must be because the people of the prefecture are making an offering to your minister.” Upon inquiry, it was found to be so. Looking at it from this angle, we see that humans and spirits share one Principle, and movement and response (ganying) are one mechanism.87

Wang had parted ways with his teacher Wang Yangming precisely by focusing on the teaching that “Heavenly principle is realized everywhere.”88 In their own time, living shrines could uphold and illustrate the central principles of the cosmic order, or they could portend disaster. In our time, they illuminate Ming thinking about principles and pragmatics in the linked political and spiritual realms.

87. Wang Dao, “Record of the Living Shrine to [‌Dongchang‌] Prefect Mr. Chen [‌Ru‌],” 8/39a. The story also appears in Zhu Shengfei, Ganzhu ji 11/7. For a similar Tang case with a different moral, see Lei Wen, “Tangdai difang cisi,” 36. 88. Ching, Records of Ming Scholars, 25.

Part One

Foundation and Floor

Chapter One

An Ordinary Institution There are front and back halls; there are east and west covered passages; there are inner and outer gates. For cooking there is a kitchen, for washing there is a well, for storage there is a storehouse. It is completely surrounded by a wall; it is announced with a decorated signboard reading “Mr. Yang’s Legacy of Love Shrine.” It is awe-­inspiring and beautiful enough to comfort the people’s yearning. On the day it was completed, the old and the young, with incense and silk in their hands and sacrificial meat and wine in vessels, followed Prefect Xu in bowing (bai) at the shrine: both happy and sad, truly as if thinking of a deceased father or deceased mother. His Honor’s virtue ­entering into the people’s hearts, how could it be both as deep and as long lasting as this? —Fei Hong, “Record of Mr. Yang [‌Jizong‌]’s Legacy of Love Shrine”

T

his chapter will describe what Ming premortem shrines looked like and what people did in them. It will explain how the shrines were funded and how many existed in Ming times. It will discuss how the Ming Code—the law of the land—regulated them and consider whether, as scholars have assumed, it was ritually improper to enshrine a living man. Finally, it will contrast premortem shrines with another kind of enshrinement that also honored good officials. All these basics were not only social facts, but were also matters of debate and the

30

Chapter One

foundation for tropes within the premortem discourse examined in the remainder of the book.

What Did Living Shrines Look Like? From Wei Zhongxian’s grand temples to small buildings housing the image of one magistrate, most Ming premortem shrines that are described in the historical record looked like deity temples and posthumous shrines. Valerie Hansen defines ci (shrine) as “a building to someone who is alive or once lived—hence the term shengci ‘living shrine,’ which denotes shrines built to living people, often to virtuous officials upon their leaving a given district. When the recipient of a living shrine died, the same building then became a [‌posthumous‌] ci.”1 In Ming usage, which I will follow, “premortem enshrinement” (sheng ci) could also refer to an altar with a statue, painted portrait, or name tablet of a living man placed inside an existing temple complex, school, or other building; to people posting portraits in their own homes; to placing temporary celebratory altars along an official route; or to carrying out onetime ceremonies at a temple.2 A permanent premortem shrine often comprised a walled courtyard with between one and six buildings, each of three beam-spans, called “bays.” The 1430s shrine to Song An in Neihuang was planned to have a hall of three bays and a gate to match, a surrounding wall plastered in white and black, and auspicious plants and unusual trees planted inside.3 Two centuries later, a pamphlet commemorating construction of a shrine shows a roofed gate with wooden posts and a signboard reading: “Mr. Bi’s Living Shrine” (fig. 1.1). Shrines sometimes had special names on the signboard but often were just called “Mr. X’s 1. Hansen, Changing Gods, 179. 2. Two examples appear at 1612 FJ Quanzhou fuzhi 20/1553–55. See also Chang, Wang Shou-jen, 27 and note 16; and Israel, Doing Good, 88, where other officials involved with the pacification were honored in shrines at the same time. Naquin mentions that kith and kin placed small altars along a funeral route (“Funerals in North China,” 43). 3. Liu Ju, “Hanlin Senior Compiler Liu Ju Takes Up [‌His Brush‌] to Record the Living Shrine to Subprefect in Charge of the Affairs of Neihuang County Mr. Song An.”

Fig. 1.1.  Mr. Bi’s Living Shrine. Source: Zhang Tingyu, Bigong shengci ji [‌Record of the living shrine to Mr. Bi‌]. Tianqi era. Block print pamphlet, Shaanxi. Harvard-​ Yenching Library.

32

Chapter One

Living Shrine” (X gong shengci). The word gong, originally a feudal lord, here just means “Mr.” or “His Honor.” Gong has appropriate resonances, for it also refers to the public good and appears in combinations meaning “public opinion.” To the right of the gate of Mr. Bi’s shrine stands a departure stele recording his accomplishments. Inside, a screen wall typical of temples is flanked by slightly offset trees, and one-bay halls face each other east and west. A flight of four steps leads up to the raised main hall of five bays, four with paneled folding doors topped by latticed paper windows. The middle bay’s probable door or curtain has been omitted from the illustration to show a central clothdraped offering table with incense, candlesticks, or offerings laid out on it. Bi’s carved or painted image, not visible, would be behind the altar table. Above the doorway hang two signboards, mimicking a temple’s sequential bestowals of titles by grateful community members or approving emperors.4 The signboards read: Soaking [‌grace‌] extends even after departure, Passing down a fragrant [reputation] to a thousand ages.

澤流去後 流芳千古

No surrounding wall appears, although there surely was one.5 The size is typical for stand-alone premortem shrines. Some permanent living shrines were larger, looking like bigger temples: one had a main building of five bays, east and west side verandas of three bays, a big gate of three bays with a signboard reading “Heyang Living Shrine,” and a second back courtyard with a main building and side buildings, each of three bays.6 A shrine built over five months in 1542–43 designated the side halls for ritual preparation and animal pens. In front of an inner gate was a small pavilion for the stele and then another “great gate” facing the river with a sign reading “The

4. See Hansen, Changing Gods, chap. 4. 5. For instance, Wu Yan, “Record of the Living Shrine to Mr. Tang [‌Chun‌]” 5/24. 6. 1550 BZ Guangping fuzhi 7/6.



An Ordinary Institution

33

Living Shrine of Dongchang Prefect Mr. Chen of Celery Hill.”7 A shrine built in 1567 for ten living officials backed on a mature bamboo grove of about one Chinese acre (mou), was surrounded by a brick wall pierced by a large gate, and had either three big halls (tang) of three bays each or one big hall whose three bays were separated into “main hall,” “left hall,” and “right hall,” housing modeled images and wooden tablets. To the side were the same number (still unclear) of smaller halls (ting). Behind all that was a building of two bays where the caretaker lived, a Daoist priest affiliated with a large, old hermitage.8 In size and layout, premortem shrines looked the same as post­ humous or deity shrines or temples, which in turn were basically the same as schools, offices, palaces, and houses. Indeed, such spaces were interchangeable, so a shrine could be put anywhere. Some premortem shrines used converted buildings: Prefect Gong Mian’s living shrine was in a defunct prefectural postal station.9 Others shared space in existing religious institutions, such the Purple Marsh Palace.10 The Tianzhu Chan monastery housed a living shrine to the man who had organized the building of Lotus Tower there in the mid-sixteenth ­century to serve as the town’s bell tower.11 Some men were enshrined alone and others together; some in separate shrine buildings and others in homes; and some living shrines were incorporated into county schools or Buddhist or Daoist temples. A tiny shrine could just mean “putting his image in a cupboard and setting it at a temple.”12 One Legacy of Love Shrine for a living resident administrator was first put in the Luohan Temple, then moved—to another temple.13 Military Commissioner-in-Chief Yang Hong had rebuilt Longmen garrison’s two 7. Wang Dao, “Record of the Living Shrine to [‌Dongchang‌] Prefect Mr. Chen [‌Ru‌],” 8/38. 8. Lu Bi, “Record of the Group of Honorables Soaking Grace Shrine.” 9. 1596 ZJ Xiushui xianzhi 2/3 (103), 2/8 (113). He had another shrine in an operational academy, commemorated by Gu Xiancheng. 10. 1684 FJ Fujian tongzhi 31/2. 11. 1755 NZ Jixi xianzhi, 143–44. The shrine apparently lasted until mid-Qing. 12. Yao Shihua, “Stele Record of the Rebuilding of the Spirit Shrine for Prefect Fang Chu’an.” 13. 1736 ZJ Zhejiang tongzhi 224/7.

34

Chapter One

Buddhist temples. A premortem record tells us that garrison troops discussed their gratitude for Yang’s assuring peace (in 1449!) lest he be forgotten, and, because business meant he was rarely in Longmen, they built a shrine near the middle gate of one of the temples where they could pay reverence each morning and evening, and make offerings at fixed times.14 Ming architecture did not distinguish sacred from secular space, so a premortem shrine could use whatever space was available and affordable.

What Did People Do in Living Shrines? Ming texts explain that living shrines expressed that the group still missed a person and enabled them to remember him, to pass knowledge of him on to later generations, and—as with any shrine to a deity or spirit—to recompense or reciprocate (bao) his contributions and virtue (gongde) as well as his kindness or benevolent grace (en). (Similar language appears in some inscriptions for ancestral shrines.)15 The reciprocation took the form of remembrance and offerings. At the heart of a premortem shrine stood a name tablet or, more often, a likeness. After the departure of a late Ming prefect, locals “created a likeness (xiao xiang) to make offerings to him.”16 When Fan Ji left Yangwu, locals reciprocated his grace (bao en) by drawing an image (hui xiang) to establish a living shrine.17 Xue Xiang “moved [‌locals he had rescued from banditry‌] to gratitude as if he were Heaven. They drew a portrait (xie zhen) to enshrine him alive.” Perhaps the portrait served as a touchstone, for the source says they encouraged one another to act morally so as not to betray him.18 One record explained a living shrine as follows: “Missing him and not seeing him, they get to see 14. Feng Yi, “Record of the Living Shrine to Mr. Yang [‌Hong‌].” 15. E.g., Lu Xinyuan, Wuxing jinshi ji 15/6 (613). 16. 1684 FJ Fujian tongzhi 32/13b. For another official, the people (min) made an image of him (xiao mao); see 1596 FJ Xiushui xianzhi 6/18 (311). Peng Ze wrote an essay on such an image, created a dozen years after the shrine had been built; see 1525 HN Yangwu xianzhi 1/19b–20a (872–73). 17. 1525 HN Yangwu xianzhi 2/5. 18. Huang Jin, “Biography of Xue Xiang,” 58/31. Mingshi 13/138/3973. For the term zhen for a portrait, see Foulk and Sharf, “Ritual Use of Ch’an Portraiture,” 161–62.



An Ordinary Institution

35

something like [‌him‌]—that’ll do.”19 For emotional connection and visualization, just as in posthumous shrines and deity shrines, pre­ mortem shrines centered on images.20 Living shrines witnessed activities basic to all temples and shrines: praying; bowing or kowtowing; and offering incense, food, drink, or animals.21 Matteo Ricci described what was familiar to every Ming person. Each “temple” to a departing magistrate has an altar where they put the statue, made lifelike, and a gift of an annuity to some men [‌for‌] lighting candles and putting incense in great censers, which have stands of iron and of bronze, before the altar, as they also do for their [‌Buddhist and Daoist‌] idols, with various stones where they keep engraved their works done for the public good of that city. And at some times of the year the citizens and important persons go to make their accustomed genuflections, and to some they offer things to eat and make other ceremonies.22

Given the Christian investment in understanding Chinese rites, it is not surprising that missionaries and converts provide further information on premortem shrines. In 1692, a Chinese Christian, Mathias Xia, received a letter from a Jesuit superior asking about the history of living shrines. Xia replied at length. He writes that people put in the shrine a text of the former official’s birth year, month, day, and hour (“the eight characters”), and sometimes a modeled image on a platform, and offer worship (shang gong). While the person is still alive (apparently—the text is a bit confused), an official holds rites twice a year, in spring and fall, on days worked out through complex calculations and approved by the authorities. The official enters the shrine and does a ritual of four bows, offers incense and wine three times, and then bows 19. Wang Jianping, “Gone Yet Remembered Record for Mr. Chen [‌Weizhi‌].” 20. The preference for images in premortem shrines survived Taizu’s replacement of City God images and the Jiajing emperor’s replacement of statues of Confucius with wooden tablets. Sommer, “Destroying Confucius,” 95, 109. 21. Naquin, Peking, 22, gives a nice summary. 22. Elia and Ricci, Fonti ricciane, 1/82–83 (N 131), passage trans. Bruce Tindall. Cf. Gallagher, Journals of Matthew Ricci, 71.

36

Chapter One

again. In addition, however, “in ordinary time, on every first and fifteenth day [‌of the month‌], according to the will of the gentry and commoners, they just employ incense burning and reverent bowing, not only on specified days but each as it suits his convenience.” Xia also reports that, once the official has died, offerings become those for the spirits of the dead—not as for gods (shen).23 Other sources bear out Xia’s report that premortem offerings included both formal, official ceremonies and informal individual or group rites, but I have not found much solid evidence about the nature of the offerings. The picture so far includes an image; an altar; bowing and kowtowing; and biannual offerings of incense, food (one shrine record specifies pigs’ feet),24 and wine.25 One record writer wrote that, where there is ritual, one needs music—so he, like others, provided a poem to sing.26 Paid attendants might keep candles burning; some were Daoists, others yinyang officials, and others probably Buddhists.27 So far, except for the items offered, which are unclear, premortem shrines seem much like posthumous shrines.

23. Mathias Xia, Shengci yuanyou ce, 45–46. Xia informs Francesco Saverio Filippucci about the premortem shrine to Tang statesman Di Renjie, some Ming living shrines, and local posthumous shrines like Han Yu’s in Chaozhou. He also reports that at death a living shrine became a Shrine to a Former Worthy, but I have seen no such automatic change of label. For Xia and his work, see the Ricci Institute’s bibli­ ography, riccilibrary.usfca.edu/view.aspx?catalogID=5314. Xia’s research may have included interviews (Eugenio Mene­gon, personal communication, February 14, 2010). 24. Li Sicheng, “Preface for Magistrate Chen [‌Yu‌]’s Promotion to Magistrate of Shangyuan.” 25. Offerings at the 1530 Legacy of Love Shrine to Magistrate Zhang Yunxian came at the same time as those to the official altars and the Confucius temple, on the middle day of the middle month of spring and autumn. The offerings consisted of four fruits, one pig, one sheep, and one “divine meal,” shenshi, but, by the time of this description, 1603, Zhang was probably dead, so we cannot conclude that living men received animal sacrifices. 1618+CZ+SZ BZ Cheng’an yi cheng, 440. 26. Wang Pin, “Record for the Praising Loyalty Shrine [‌to Zeng Xian‌].” 27. Lu Bi reported that the “Grouped Honorables Grace-Soaking Shrine in Shangyuan” had a building of two bays behind the sanctuary to house the caretaker, a Daoist priest affiliated with a venerable Daoist hermitage of the county. 1550 BZ Guangping fuzhi 7/6 reports yinyang officials in charge. A Daoist had charge of a shrine on the Daoist Mt. Mao (Wang Shizhen, “Epitaph for Xu Jiusi” 111/19).



An Ordinary Institution

37

Like other temples open for individual worship, premortem shrines welcomed unscheduled visits by the public. A retired gentryman explained the need for a second shrine to a former official by saying the southern one was “not convenient” for people living to the north and west “to burn incense morning and evening.”28 Another group of locals “all looked at each other and said, ‘This official [‌Tang‌] has already left—there is no way to keep him. But how can we forget his grace to us people? We will build a shrine and make an image to sacrifice to (si) him so that morning and evening, whenever someone sees it, he [‌i.e., the passer-by‌] can respond to [‌Tang’s‌] grace and cherishing and make the people’s missing him last.’”29 We can picture people offering a stick of incense and a bow on the way to or from market or the fields. At a living shrine already in operation “all the old and weak black-headed people [‌commoners‌] in a continuous train compete to offer incense in [‌the shrine‌], as [‌numerous and excited‌] as if going to a market.”30 Many capsule biographies in gazetteers state simply that people sacrificed to (si) or “personated and invoked” (shi zhu) someone with no explicit shrine or stele.31 Where? When Magistrate Wen Lin left Yongjia in about 1480, the Wenzhou people painted an image (tu xiang) of him on the eastern wall of a military office.32 A late Ming Chinese Christian official described how, “in the homes of commoners, images of gods and Buddhas are worshipped in home shrines (jiatang), where also the ancestral tablets are kept together in one place.”33 Dead officials could take a place there too. Early Ming Jiangning magistrate Ji Su referred to himself as “your father-and-mother official.” When he died in office, “people, men and women, came all day to the yamen, crying 28. Pei Dong, “Record of a Living Shrine to Mr. Ren [‌Yingzheng‌],” 569. 29. Chen Rang, “Stele for the Premortem Shrine to Nan’an Magistrate Tang [‌Ai‌].” 30. Wang Jianping, “Gone Yet Remembered Record for Mr. Chen [‌Weizhi‌].” 31. 1596 ZJ Xiushui xianzhi 4/15 (225–26), 6/11 (297), 6/16 (308). I will translate shi zhu and shi er zhu simply as “worship,” in the sense of “perform a ceremony to express reverence,” and examine both the term and the acts in more detail in chapter 3. For shi as “personate,” an ancient practice in which a living son or grandson stood in for a dead father in ritual, and for zhu as “invoke,” see Davis, Society and the Supernatural, 186–90. 32. 1503 ZJ Wenzhou fuzhi 8/341–52; for Wen Lin, 365–66. 33. Menegon, Ancestors, Virgins, and Friars, 263, 269.

38

Chapter One

and weeping, as if burying a parent. After the funeral, the people set up wooden tablets in their private quarters to make offerings to him. In the Chenghua period, the tablets were still there.”34 Living officials could join these home altars.35 When they did, people’s rituals probably did not carefully distinguish gods and ancestors from officials or living from dead officials. To summarize: at an altar holding an image or tablet, in order to remember and reciprocate or recompense the enshrined man’s contributions, various officials, paid attendants, and local residents offered regular and irregular obeisances; spoken, sung, and written prayers; wine, incense, food; and perhaps animal sacrifices. Dispersed among public and private spaces, premortem worship looked more or less like postmortem worship. Meant to assure eternal remembrance, a pre­ mortem shrine could seamlessly become a posthumous shrine at the moment of death.36

Funding and Longevity To build a shrine more elaborate than a portrait over an existing altar required money. We rarely know how much, however.37 Zhao Kesheng argues that, generally, living shrines were built by the local public.38 Bearing out Zhao’s view is the Veritable Record Recording the Righ­ teous [‌Donations‌] to the Living Shrine to Mr. Li [‌Wenkui‌]. Along with texts lauding Li, the Record includes a 1608 appeal to the public for 34. 1519 NZ Jiangning xianzhi 8/5. 35. Schneewind, Community Schools, 136, citing 1873 JX Chongren xianzhi. 36. When a shrine built for a living man outlasted him, its name might change from “Mr. X’s Living Shrine” to “Mr. X’s Shrine” (1658 SX Gaoping xianzhi 2/12–14 [‌141–46‌]); or it might not: a town in Jiangsu is named Shengci zhen after its living shrine to Song hero Yue Fei (Ding Xingguo and Chen Xinyu, Ma zhou yin ji). 37. One nicely painted living shrine to “Father-and-Mother Liu” had a signboard reading “Merciful Love Shrine” centered on a wooden tablet. With a main hall and a side hall, each of three bays, it cost the gentry donor an unspecified amount of money and 40 mou of land endowed for its upkeep. BZ CZ Dacheng xianzhi 7/389. 38. Zhao Kesheng, “Mingdai shengci,” 128. His examples include a shrine funded by about a hundred gentry families; a shrine funded with labor and contributions from the commoner masses; and one funded by almost 130 officials, students, and commoners.



An Ordinary Institution

39

funds, signed by ten students of the three government schools in the Hangzhou prefectural seat, and a list of donations totaling about 485 taels from donors listed by category, name, and title, in order of status within each part of the prefecture.39 Listed last, as the climax, is the “Leader,” Wang Tingxi, a local Qiantang man who passed the metropolitan exam in the same year as Prefect Li but never amounted to much. Wang contributed 20 taels, twice as much as any other single contributor. That was fair, because it was he who had insisted on a stand-alone shrine, rejecting the original plan to add Li into existing buildings. Wang’s colophon credits six gentrymen and claims that the place was full to bursting on the day they installed the image, with sturdy men and elders all burning incense and “muddying their heads” in kowtows. Besides Wang, who else paid for the shrine? Several points emerge to illuminate the nature of “public” funding (table 1.1). First, incumbent officials in the circuit, prefecture, and counties—whether using their own or official funds is not specified—played a small role, providing about 6 percent of the total: six of them gave 39 taels in all, including 10 taels each from the current prefect and two salt administrators. Second, in geographical terms, the prefectural seat and its two counties handily led the spending in all categories except that no group village contributions are recorded for these inner counties. The inner counties contributed three-quarters of the total, 366 out of 485 taels. Third, local gentrymen, including Wang, contributed about half of the total amount if we include the eighty-seven office-holding locals (a number are lowly ushers), who together contributed not quite one-third of the total; the provincial graduates and National University students; and another 5 percent from members of families that long included officials. “Blue gowns,” that is, students who had not passed the provincial exam, wrote the appeal for funds; of them, three contributed no funds, half gave 1 to 3 taels, one gave 10 taels, and one gave a meager 2 qian. Yet all together, 39. “Veritable Record of the Recorded Donations of Righteousness to the Living Shrine of Prefect Mr. Li Juwu” 君矦聚吾李公生祠 捐資紀義實錄 (1608), in Zeng Jinxue et al., Li gong shengci. Whoever wrote the title on the outside of this compilation when it was rebound for the library broke the lines in such a way as to show that he assumed it was a posthumous shrine for a Mr. Li Sheng.

40

Chapter One Table 1.1 Contributions to Li Wenkui’s Premortem Shrine, 1607–10 Total Number Percentage number from outer Total amount Range of total (485) of people counties (approximate) in taels (rounded)

Office holders

87

4

146.1

.1 to 5

30

Provincial graduates ( juren)

47

3

39.5

.3 to 2

7

National University students

50

1

37.2

.2 to 5

8

145

6

84.6

.1 to 5

17

Members of families that have long held office

26

0

23.7

.3 to 1

5

Venerable and virtuous

63

1

62.3

.1 to 10

13

Incumbent officials

6

3

39.0

1 to 10

7

All villages in four outer counties

not given

not given

53.0

not given

11

Blue gowns

Totals

424+

18+

485.4

98

Source: Zeng Jinxue, Wang Tingxi, et al., Li gong [‌Wenkui‌] shengci ji yi shilu [‌Veritable record recording the righteous (donations) to the living shrine to Mr. Li (Wenkui)‌], 6–23.

the 145 “blue gowns” contributed about 84 taels. If we consider them socially to be gentry, that would bring the local gentry total to 68 percent of the entire cost. The remaining quarter of the funds—plus the untabulated work and materials and a few objects—came from commoners, whether under pressure or voluntarily. Sixty-three “venerable and virtuous men,” or elders, contributed 13 percent of the total. They were commoners, perhaps educated, perhaps wealthy (see chapter 6); their contributions range from one-tenth of a tael to 10 taels, as much as any single donor but Wang Tingxi. Together, the elders gave twice as much as the incumbent officials. Commoners probably also gave the 53 taels from “all the villages” of the outer counties. In Xincheng the magistrate led this



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effort, which netted 5 taels in addition to his one; in Yuqian the district jailor’s leadership netted 8 taels; in Changhua an “elder of virtue” netted 20 taels. No numbers of people or individual names are given for this 11 percent of the total. To summarize funding by social group, incumbent officials contributed about 6 percent, local gentry and near-gentry about 68 percent, and commoners about 24 percent.40 Of the 424 named contributors, 1 percent were incumbent officials, 84 percent were local gentry, and 15 percent were elders.41 This case supports Zhao’s picture of a very wide social base of donors, contributing unevenly; other steles and gazetteer records similarly speak of raising money, materials, and labor from locals, commoners, and even merchants. Such claims, like the pamphlet’s many emotional testimonials to the contributions of Prefect Li, were meant to forestall charges of coercion and boost the reputations of all involved. Endowments providing operational funds, or an official commitment to funding, could aid a shrine’s long-term survival. Data on this are scarce and scattered.42 Two late Ming living shrines still owned modest endowments of 2 to 3 mou of fields in Qing times.43 More details come in a case that links a posthumous and a living shrine. Leizhou prefect Qin Shizhong, between about 1384 and 1390, had brought rain by prayer and had rebuilt dikes. Each county and district set up an altar (tan) to repay him with offerings spring and autumn; when he died, still in office, they built a shrine.44 A century later, in 1488, a magistrate, a prefect, and a palace eunuch endowed it with 60 mou of fields. Another century later, in 1600, retiring prefect Ye Xiu earned a shrine alongside Qin’s. Prefect Zhang Yingzhong visited Ye at his home. Zhang wrote that Ye simply could not stop talking about Leizhou matters and answered every question Zhang tested him with; clearly he still cared about the place. Zhang was upset, therefore, when 40. Zeng Jinxue et al., Li gong shengci. 41. “Veritable Record of the Recorded Donations,” in Zeng Jinxue et al., Li gong shengci. 42. For Jiaxing Prefecture, see Ho Shu-yi, “Wan Ming de difang guan shengci,” 819ff. 43. HN Kaocheng xianzhi huibian. 44. 1731 GD Guangdong tongzhi 41/62b.

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he visited Ye’s shrine and learned it had no funding, while the Qin shrine had fields that yielded 1 tael of silver annually to cover offerings, plus 3 qian (0.3 taels) per year from the prefectural office to prepare the shrine before each ceremony. Zhang located and purchased some nearby land (possibly with donations from others), and recorded the seed required, the tax measurement, and the income from the grain. That income of 1 to 2 taels a year could cover the offerings, and an incoming prefect then agreed to provide 1 dan and 5 dou of grain, worth 180 wen. All this sufficed to comfort the spirits (ling) of the two men and to influence later generations, Zhang wrote; but to prevent the funds vanishing in future, he was engraving the arrangements on stone.45 In this case, premortem outdoor worship of incumbent Qin was replaced when he died by a shrine, which had a small endowment and official funding that preserved it for at least two hundred years. Yet Zhang’s worries that the land endowment might not last were justified. For such funding often failed. The Legacy of Love Shrine to Zhang Jiuhua in Cheng’an County, built in 1530 by “the county gentry and commoners,” was well supported at its inception but fell into neglect. “[‌The sponsors‌] set up 44 mou of “incense fields” [‌to support the shrine‌]. . . . As the years lengthened, the hall, rooms, gate, and wall fell into ruins and the land also passed into private ownership.”46 Living shrines, like other public buildings, often fell into private hands. The takeover could reflect a lack of public support, or a strong family might disregard neighbors’ wishes. Or officials could be at fault, converting shrines to other public uses. People who respected a departing magistrate of Zengcheng gathered money, bought materials, divined a place for a shrine, and modeled his image to serve him. But “after a short time, the shrine was converted into a community school and the people 45. Zhang Yingzhong, “Record of the Sacrificial Fields for the Living Shrine to Mr. Ye [‌X iu‌].” The accounting is very confused. 46. 1618+CZ+SZ BZ Cheng’an yi cheng, 404. The gazetteer continues: “In 1603, Magistrate Liu Yongmai rebuilt the main shrine of three columns, the gate, and the surrounding wall, and decorated them all. The land, too, he investigated and reclaimed, renting it out to people to supply the [‌expenses of the‌] sacrifices.” Mag­ istrate Liu, making a name for himself with local construction and reform extensively recorded in this gazetteer, was reviving a shrine to a predecessor, presumably over the objections of those who were benefiting from the endowment.



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(min) could not snatch it back,” so they had to build again elsewhere.47 Ho Shu-yi goes so far as to say that “most of our records describe the demolition and abandonment, or conversion to other uses, of living shrines shortly after their construction.”48 However, a premortem shrine could outlast a man’s career, his life, even his dynasty.49 One Tang official’s living shrine had become a Legacy of Virtue Temple (yi de miao) and had answered prayers for rain around 1240.50 Bao Ergeng’s late Ming shrine still stood in Republican times, used as a warehouse or shop.51 Some Ming living shrines still exist today.52 One of the few gazetteers to report survival times lists a dozen Ming living shrines; in 1684, four were “long defunct”; others had been moved or were doubling up with local institutions like the community compact bureau; six were apparently still extant.53 But there was no guarantee that a shrine would last, and everyone knew it. As a gazetteerist wrote of Ouyang Dongfeng and another man, “Both were worthy officials. Even after a hundred generations, it would still be permitted to worship them. Today they are inside the lecture hall: that is, their shrines have not been transmitted. I fear [‌their cults‌] will gradually be submerged and become defunct. My heart is troubled for them.”54 47. Lu Wangfeng, “Stele for the Living Shrine to Military Vice-Commissioner Wang [Dayong].” This confiscation may have come at the behest of Wei Jiao (who corresponded with the enshrinee, Wang Dayong); see Schneewind, “Competing Institutions.” Or it may have been a response to the 1530 edict from the Jiajing emperor discussed below. Conversely, a living shrine to another official was rebuilt in 1531 where a community school had stood (1688 GD Xin’an xianzhi 12/21). 48. Ho Shu-yi, “Wan Ming difangguan shengci,” 819. 49. In 1206 Zhou Hu and his mother were enshrined alive for defending Hezhou against the Jin, and a subprefect reenshrined both in 1527. This is the only living shrine to a woman I have found (1575 NZ Hezhou zhi, 401, 583–91). A Han living shrine lasted into Song (1880 HG Chongxiu Jingzhou fuzhi 27/11). For Song and Yuan living shrines still standing or rebuilt in Ming, see 1561 ZJ Zhejiang tongzhi 19/7–8 (982–83); 1612 FJ Quanzhou fuzhi 10/819; Wang Zhi, “Record of the Rebuilding of the Loyal Unto Death Shrine to Mr. Fan [‌Zhongyan, aka‌] Wenzheng.” 50. 1736 ZJ Zhejiang tongzhi 220/27; 1560 ZJ Ningbo fuzhi 15/9. 51. 1935 GD Luoding xianzhi 2/339. 52. For a visit to a Ming living shrine in 2006, see Xie Shi, Li ji Lingfeng, 27 n. 33. 53. See 1684 NZ Xinghua xianzhi 3/845–50 for the list of shrines, 2/405–31 for the list of magistrates, and j. 12 (3/859–62) for steles and other prose records. 54. 1684 NZ Xinghua xianzhi 3/847.

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How Many Ming Living Shrines Were There? Historians fit living shrines into a familiar narrative of decline: an early practice of honoring good officials became corrupt so undeserved shrines proliferated over time, culminating in the Wei Zhongxian ­disaster.55 Historian Zhao Kesheng adduces a post-1500 “trend toward universalization” from a few localities with increasing numbers of shrines and contemporary complaints like “today, among the resident administrators, who does not get a shrine? What shrine does not have a stele of commemoration?”56 Ho Shu-yi argues that living shrines ­proliferated from the mid-sixteenth century but then gradually diminished after Wei Zhongxian gave them a bad name.57 The trouble with such arguments is that, even with online databases and word searches, we simply cannot count premortem shrines. First, many are just called “shrines,” like posthumous shrines. A search on shengci turns up about twenty in the Veritable Records and the Ming History (excluding the Wei Zhongxian shrines) with some overlap, but many more lurk unlabeled. For instance, locals set up shrines to worship Wu Chengqi everywhere he fought pirates; timing suggests he was not dead, yet the shrines are not called “living shrines.”58 Second, although some are conveniently labeled “Mr. X’s Living Shrine,” others are called things like “Shrine to Repay Your Contributions” (baogong ci), “Shrine Showing that We Hold the Virtuous to Our Bosoms” (huaide ci), or “Shrine to Honor Virtue Like that of a Brooding Hen”

55. Osabe, “Shina seishi shoko.” 56. The point of this late Wanli complaint by Rites Secretary Ding Yuanjian (a Donglin partisan) is that the shrine he is commemorating, by contrast, was well deserved. “Stele Record of the Rebuilding of Mr. Chen Yuntang, Prefect of Wuxing,” in Zhao Kesheng, “Mingdai shengci,” 128, referring to Pinghu and Jiaxing, both in Zhejiang. After the 1558 shrine to Hu Zongxian, ten shrines to Pinghu magistrates followed; and, in Jiaxing, magistrates were enshrined in 1564, 1585, 1590, 1600, 1604, 1609, 1618, and 1622. 57. Ho Shu-yi, “Wan Ming de difangguan shengci,” 815, 830. Through word searches on a database of stone inscriptions, Ho found twice as many local honors after 1567 as before (p. 846). 58. Mingshi 18/205/5419.



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(fude ci).59 When one magistrate left Hainan, “the masses [‌or “everyone”‌] (zhong) made for him two shrines, called ‘Respecting Virtue’ (chongde) and ‘Recompensing Contributions’ (baogong) to make offerings to him.”60 Word searches would miss these. Many premortem shrines were named “Legacy of Love,” yet searching for that term does not reliably locate premortem shrines; posthumous shrines also bore the name.61 Yongjia County even had a “Legacy of Love Daoist Temple.”62 Third, Ming people maintained no strict shrine/temple distinction— a living shrine record speaks of “temple offerings” (miao xiang), for instance.63 The Ming History calls Tang Shao’en’s living shrine beside a lock he constructed a “temple” (miao).64 A fourth difficulty with counting is that living shrines were common enough that a slip of the pen could add one. Prefectural Judge Wang Deren saved thousands of people from banditry and charges of collusion with bandits before dying of a sudden illness in 1449. The gazetteers make it quite clear—even when they are confused about his surname—that only after his funeral did locals make offerings to his portrait and in about 1457 petition the court for two shrines.65 Yet a 59. Zhao Kesheng, “Mingdai shengci,” 127. Rare or unique names include “Forever Relying on You Shrine,” “Rewarding Your Accomplishments Shrine,” and “Preserving the Memory of Your Generosity Shrine” (1684 NZ Xinghua xianzhi 845–46); as well as “Plum Creek Shrine” and “Cai the Loyal and Benevolent Shrine” (1684 FJ Fujian tongzhi 31/3, 5). 60. 1684 FJ Fujian tongzhi 32/13a. For the same pair of phrases applied to a very old water goddess, see Tracy Miller, Divine Nature, 148. 61. For instance, Wang Jianzhi died in 1519 and was enshrined in Yuanshi in about 1528, resulting in Gu Dingchen’s “Stele for the Legacy of Love Shrine to County Magistrate Mr. Wang [‌Jianzhi‌].” For a Legacy of Love Stele (yi’ai bei), see 1534 BZ Gaocheng xianzhi 8/21. 62. Alongside its “Repaying Grace (bao en) Nunnery”; 1503 ZJ Wenzhou fuzhi, 753. 63. Hanyu da cidian 3/1274 notes that miao “can also indicate living shrines.” Yang Bi, “Record of the Living Shrines to Shangyuan Magistrate Mr. Dongying Lin [‌Dafu‌].” 64. Mingshi 24/281/7212 (Mao Qiling wrote this biography). 1736 ZJ Zhejiang tongzhi 221/20 says the shrine was inside the Kaiyuan Temple. 65. Mingshi 15/165/4470. An uxorilocal marriage led the Tingzhou prefectural gazetteer to attribute Wang’s prefectural and county shrines to two different sur­ names. 1631 FJ Minshu 59/56; 1491 FJ Bamin tongzhi 38/8 (528), 59/22 (840); 1527 FJ Tingzhou fuzhi 9/3, 9/13, 11/14; 1879 FJ Changting xianzhi 23/12.

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later biography refers to his “premortem enshrinement.”66 Likewise, Chenzhou subprefect Hou Junzhuo died cursing Li Zicheng’s rebel troops. His loyal death earned a posthumous title, appointment to ­office for one son—and, says the gazetteer, an imperial order for a “living shrine.”67 The phrase flowed naturally from the brush, for many shrines to such men indeed pre-dated death. Fifth, and most fundamentally, if a living shrine succeeded in the long term to become a posthumous shrine, its origin might be forgotten. Many gazetteers (not all) list pre- and postmortem shrines together, without differentiating.68 The Wucheng County seat map shows “Mr. Chen’s Shrine” just outside the western city gate; both editions of this gazetteer—one very concerned with ritual propriety— predate Chen Ru’s death in 1561. There was no need to specify “living shrine” in the label, for the shrine was meant to outlive the man.69 The variety of names and continuity across the line between life and death mean that one cannot reliably even identify premortem shrines, still less track trends over time or variation across space. Certainly, late Ming had more living shrines than in earlier eras; late Ming had more of practically everything. But still only a minority of officials won them. A Shandong gazetteer reports fourteen “illustrious officials” in one prefecture from the Tianshun era on: three had living shrines and seven some other kind of honor; one was dead.70 A Shanxi gazetteer with about fifteen shrines to Ming magistrates (and one Ming vice-magistrate) recorded up to a dozen magistrates not 66. Guo Haozheng et al., Mingdai zhuangyuan shiliao huibian, 463–64, citing ‌Zhuangyuan tukao [‌Pictures and study of top jinshi]. Another example is Magistrate Wang Tianyu; one page of the gazetteer says that a shrine was set up after his death, but the next refers to it as a “living shrine.” 1552 GD Xingning xianzhi 4/15b–16a (1180–81). 67. 1618+CZ+SZ BZ Cheng’an yi cheng, 623. Some sources give his name as Hou Zhuo. Later gazetteers correct the error. 68. For instance, see the lists in Wang Ao’s 1506 NZ Suzhou Gusu zhi, 27/ and 28/. Furthermore, reporting is inconsistent across sources: Xiang Zhong’s living shrine appears in the Ming History 16/178/4728 but not in his hometown 1596 ZJ Xiushui xianzhi 6/6–7 (288–89). 69. 1549+1557 SD Wucheng xianzhi maps/1b. 70. 1533 SD Shandong tongzhi 27/274–75, for Laizhou Prefecture.



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enshrined serving between those who were.71 In an unusually orderly gazetteer, the end of the subsection on shrines reports six officials enshrined while alive between 1597 and 1620, all but one of them magistrates; each shrine is listed as “Mr. X’s living shrine,” and each entry gives the enshrinee’s personal name, the location of the shrine, and the name and title of the author of the shrine record; about ten more magistrates without shrines preceded the compilation of the gazetteer.72 If living shrines had really been standard, orderly lists should be more common or (as in another unusual case) should appear in a separate section headed “living shrines.”73 But instead records are scattered and irregular, and two dozen living shrines in one county would be a lot. With about 1,500 prefectures, subprefectures, and counties changing resident administrators about every three years, enshrining every one of them alive for the last century of Ming rule would have meant about 50,000 living shrines after 1544, far more than the record shows. The late Ming grumping that “every magistrate is getting one now” exaggerates for dramatic effect. We cannot know how many living shrines the Ming landscape held: probably between 2,000 and 10,000.

Following the Law Living shrine practice and discourse were shaped by the law, and tensions within the law generated thinking about political participation. To appreciate later chapters, readers should first understand the law. Article 191. In all cases where incumbent officials who have no governmental achievements erect steles or shrines without authorization, they shall be punished by 100 strokes of beating with the heavy stick. If they send other persons to praise their virtues fraudulently or to petition the throne [‌for erecting steles or shrines‌], they shall be punished by 80



71. 1658 SX Gaoping xianzhi 2/12–14, 4/6–9. 72. 1634 SD Yuncheng xianzhi. 73. As in 1551 BZ Qinghe xianzhi 1/20–26.

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strokes of beating with the heavy stick. For those who are sent by them, in each case the penalty shall be reduced one degree. 凡見任官無政跡輒自立碑建祠者，杖一百。 若遣人妄稱己善申請於上 者，杖八十；受遣之人各減一等。74

Article 191 of the Ming Code anticipates that people will set up congratulatory shrines and steles to living officials in accord with long custom. It anticipates self-glorification by ineffectual ninnies and incumbents forcing or swaying others to promote the process. Read straight­ forwardly, article 191 required four things: concrete accomplishments, nonincumbency, authorization, and independent sponsorship. Premortem stele tropes responded to each requirement and to the anxiety that lay behind it. People knew the law.75 Long lists of what an official had done, which we will see in chapter 2, evinced “governmental accomplishments.” When an enshrinee objected to plans for a shrine, and a broad public built one, that could “prove” he had not sought the honor. Descriptions of grief at parting “demonstrated” a lack of coercion and proved that the enshrinee was not an incumbent. When Jiao Hong, a follower of Wang Yangming and his radically populist student Wang Gen, commemorated a living shrine to Gaoyou subprefect Huang Jishi, he carefully aligned the shrine with each of the three legal requirements. First, he expatiated on Huang’s “governmental achievements”: Huang had regularly asked the elders and youngsters (fulao zidi) about their customs and problems; he had straightened out corrupt government office personnel and beaten local bullies, much to the amazement of onlookers; and he had rebuilt the school and supported the local gentry. Second, it was local residents (shiren) who divined for a good spot east of the school and built a shrine to make offerings to Huang. Then, “when it was completed, the filial and pure [‌‌ local juren] Mr. Li Zihua, in accordance with the wishes of the local 74. Da Ming lü, article 191, in j. 12 on ritual (452), translation in Jiang, Great Ming Code. This article appears in the Qing Code as well, adding explanations that dis­ ambiguate no complexities (Xu Ben et al., Da Qing lü li 17/12a). 75. For officials’ adherence to Ming law generally, see Jiang, “Defending the Dynastic Order.”



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gentry-officials and the elders (xiang shidafu fulao), came to ask me for a record.” Third, scrupulous about incumbency, Jiao said, “This may not yet be done, lest we disgrace our lord.” Once Huang’s transfer came through, the gentry and commoners led one another to make a request to the acting Yangzhou prefect, pointing out that they had waited a bit and had not forgotten Huang. Prefect Wei then asked Jiao to fulfill his earlier promise, reminding him of the precedent of Zhu Yi and the Tongxiang people (see below). With local sponsorship and authorization, Jiao could now mention that he and Huang had earned their degrees the same year.76 The elders’ request neutralized any suspicion that Huang and Jiao cooked up the shrine; the conditions of the law had been met, so gentry networking could openly accompany honors. The question of incumbency was critical. Born out of late Yuan warlordism, beset by factional networks that cut across social lines, and worried by rebels and bandits somewhere in the empire every year, the Ming dynasty feared that magistrates and prefects would develop loyalties that would make them truly “local officials.” Short terms in office, assignments far from home, and a ban on retiring in a former jurisdiction were intended to prevent such ties, and article 191 intended a ban on all shrines to incumbents for the same reason.77 As explained by Song Lian, who had a hand in writing the Ming Code, Yuan law had explicitly stated: “Incumbent officials, even if they practice good governance, are not permitted to have steles set up.”78 Article 191 was less explicit, yet many people must have understood that that ban on shrines to incumbents held. The wording in one gazetteer biography after another is along the lines of “at/after his departure, the people set

76. Jiao Hong, “Record of the Living Shrine in Gaoyou Subprefecture to StraightPointer Mr. ‘Yunjiao’ Huang [‌Jishi‌],” 438–39. 77. For the rule of “avoidance” of native-place connections, see Hucker, “Ming Government,” 53. For place of retirement, an edict of 1448, Shen Shixing et al., Da Ming huidian, j. 19. 78. Song Lian et al., Yuanshi 105/2682, cited in Chen Wenyi, “Cong chaoting dao difang,” 62. Yuan law further specified that if an official had a stele that he had fairly earned, but he then went bad, the stele should be destroyed, as should a stele raised on the basis of empty praise instead of a real “record of governance” (zhi zhuang).

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up a shrine to him.”79 One petition for a shrine justified the request on the grounds that the magistrate had retired to his native village.80 When officials rejected shrines before leaving office, they protected themselves against charges of self-promotion or violating the incumbency clause. A Tianqi era incumbent stopped locals from making him a living shrine, reminding them of the law and asking them: “You love me, so how could you do this to me?”81 Wang Daokun was especially careful to preserve appearances. Having earned a living shrine as prefect of Xiangyang, he was soon thereafter dismissed from office for cause and then was returned to office, some suspected because he had sponsored an arch honoring Chief Grand Secretary Zhang Juzheng. His new post was in Yuanyang, next to Xiangyang, and, at his urging, his living shrine was converted into the Testimonial to Worthies Shrine, honoring many other men. He may have felt that in his precarious situation he could not risk having a living shrine in the county next door.82 Nevertheless, the Ming Code as written left open the possibility that incumbents who had done something worthwhile could legally be enshrined, as Zhao Kesheng mentions.83 And creative justifications of shrines to incumbents were a significant phenomenon that contributed to conceptual developments, as later chapters discuss. What about a requirement of “authorization”? Tang and Song required central government verification and approval before locals could erect a stele or shrine, but Song may not have enforced the law, and Yuan abandoned it.84 Chen Wenyi calls Ming and Qing enforcement of permission for steles lax, citing Gu Yanwu’s comment that, “in recent ages, in erecting a stele, there is no need to request permission.”85 79. For two Jiajing examples for magistrates, see 1890 SH [‌G ansu‌] Lixian zhi 3/1–2. 80. Wang Shizhen, “Record of the Living Shrine to Great Minister of Successive Reigns and Former Magistrate of Huaiyuan Mr. He [Li] of Xinyang,” also cited in Zhao Kesheng, “Mingdai shengci,” 127 n. 13. 81. Zhao Kesheng, “Mingdai shengci,” 127 n. 14. Dinghai County magistrate Gu Zongmeng. 82. DMB, 1428–29; 1584 HG Xiangyang fuzhi 29/1–2. 83. Zhao Kesheng, “Mingdai shengci,” 128. 84. Liu Shengjun, “Tangdai ‘shengci libei,’” 466–68; Lei Wen, Jiaomiao zhi wai, 232–35; Chen Wenyi, “Cong chaoting dao difang,” 58–60, 62, 107. 85. Chen Wenyi, “Cong chaoting dao difang,” 63 n. 47.



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Zhao Kesheng contends that a petition from gentry and commoners would be approved by the incumbent magistrate, prefect, or governor, and gives some evidence.86 But recorded requests for permission for premortem shrines are scattered and suggest no orderly process.87 Most records merely say something like “The people set up a shrine for him and planted a Gone Yet Remembered Stele.”88 A later Ming edict reinforces the impression that premortem shrines did not require bureaucratic approval. The Jiajing emperor loved to revamp ritual and was jealous of his power. Playing up him, Shandong Regional Inspector Xiong Rong in 1530 wrote a memorial deploring how licentious subjects and incumbents were encroaching on the imperial decision-making power by enshrining or honoring all officials, worthy or not. The emperor ordered investigation and destruction.89 If the problem was that shrines had been put up without required legal approval, Xiong would have mentioned that; instead, his contention was that local decisions in themselves encroached on imperial privilege. Further, the emperor exempted from investigation and destruction shrines to those who really had left a “legacy of love” (yi’ai) among the people and about whom “local opinion was reliable” (xiang ping youju), and he permitted commoners (minjian) to rebuild shrines too dilapidated for reverent memory and worship.90 No approval process was specified. This edict may 86. Pinghu County’s shrine to Hu Zongxian was planned by the gentry and the people and built by the magistrate; Wang Yangming when administering Jiangxi approved a petition from an elder and others to enshrine Prefect Dai Deru; and the Jingxian County people petitioned the governor for a shrine to Magistrate Liu. Zhao Kesheng, “Mingdai shengci,” 127. 87. The circuit might grant the request or pass it to the regional inspector (e.g., Gu Po, “Record of the Encouraging Loyalty Shrine”; 1633 NZ Taizhou zhi 6/20). In other cases the current magistrate approved. 88. E.g., for former magistrate Gao, 1642 BZ Yuanshi xianzhi 3/349. 89. Yu Ruji, Li bu zhi gao 6/19. This law, not merely the general and violent contention over ritual matters that began with the Great Ritual Controversy, may have prompted what Ho Shu-yi discusses as a reconsideration of the ritual status of living shrines (“Wan Ming de difangguan shengci,” 822–23). Xiong and the edict also targeted private chapels and temples and “improper shrines,” in the wake of a movement against them carried out by activist resident administrators (Schneewind, Community Schools, 73–93; and Schneewind, “Competing Institutions”). 90. In the Kongzi jiayu, Confucius uses “legacy of love” to describe the long-term influence of officials on localities. Li Zhizao, “Memorial on Offering-Ritual,” 9/7–8.

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account for the many Jiajing-era premortem shrines called “Legacy of Love,” as sponsors hoped to skirt any investigation.91 But I have seen no evidence of widespread destruction of premortem shrines. Regardless of the original intent of article 191 and despite occasional requests for permission, local people made the decisions about premortem shrines. In the social dynamics of living enshrinement, official permission did not signify; the views of locals did. As one Yang Bi wrote of the premortem shrines to the hard-working but obscure Lin Dafu, who fed and saved many people in various jurisdictions, “This expression of public opinion cannot be stopped” 輿情之不容巳.92 Posthumous shrines, by contrast, did require official approval. State personnel and members of the gentry initiated most of the many requests recorded.93 Posthumous shrines could be initiated by gentry petition or by the state. A censor-in-chief, for instance, ordered the authorities to set one up to a long-dead minister in his home, with his grandson living there as caretaker.94 And a shrine in Guizhou to make offerings to local jinshi Shen You was erected after his death when a regional inspector ordered the prefecture to do so.95 The difference is clear. Posthumous shrines could be openly, legally initiated by pro­ vincial officials and even family members—in one case a dead official’s father, himself still in office.96 Living shrines were supposed to 91. The Zhejiang provincial gazetteer reports three such living shrines: to Jiajingera Quzhou prefect Li Sui (he had first earned a portrait in the “Teaching and Think­ ing ‌] Hall” of the local Wang Yangming–style “lecture and discussion” [‌jiangxue association); to a Jiajing-era Xi’an magistrate (he originally had a living shrine in the Lohan Temple; when the temple became disused, it was moved to the Xiabao Temple and renewed by the prefect); and to a Chongzhen magistrate (1736 ZJ Zhejiang tongzhi 224/6–7, 220/8). For a signboard reading “Mr. Li’s Legacy of Love Shrine,” see Yuan Zhu, “Record of the Shrine to Mr. Li [‌Dai‌].” 92. Yang Bi, “Record of the Living Shrines to Shangyuan Magistrate Mr. Dongying Lin [‌Dafu‌].” 93. E.g., Gu Dingchen, “Stele for the Legacy of Love Shrine to County Magistrate Mr. Wang [‌Jianzhi‌]”; 1561 Zhejiang tongzhi 19/4–5 (976–77); Fei Hong, “Record of the Shrine Hall to Mr. Li of Yanping.” Postmortem requests for “especial enshrinements” (te si) often were approved by education intendants, including premortem enshrinee Cai Chao (1533 SD Shandong tongzhi 32/24). 94. TQ (ca. 1612) HN Wu’an xianzhi, 265. 95. 1536 GZ Sinan fuzhi 6/1 (422). 96. 1609 BZ Raoyang xianzhi 3/34–37 (86–91).



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be initiated by broad consensus, including commoners, and did not really require bureaucratic approval. This is a first and a critical difference between the two. Is it also true that posthumous shrines accorded with ritual propriety but premortem shrines did not, as some have assumed?97

Were Living Shrines Ritually Proper? Rule through bureaucracy, imposed across the empire after the Qin unification, differed fundamentally from feudal rule. Zhou feudal lords had inherited their domains and passed them on to their sons, permanently ruling the same families of subjects. Bureaucrats, by contrast, served short terms at the pleasure of the emperor in a system specifically designed to keep them from developing loyalties and ties to localities instead of to the center. Yet the written tradition, and in Ming times the existence of the enfeoffed princes, kept feudal ideals alive as a source of inspiration. For instance, one of the key tropes in premortem discourse centered on the Gantang tree. The sixteenth poem in the Book of Odes recounts how feudal subjects gratefully preserved the tree under which Duke Shao of the Zhou had meted out justice, never cutting its branches in memory of him. This eternal remembrance, referred to in many genres of commemoration, sentimentalized the very temporary relationship of a Ming resident administrator with his jurisdiction. Premortem enshrinement itself was known to be postclassical. It had already been accepted in Song times as, in Ellen Neskar’s words, “a phenomenon of normal, or tolerable, historical change.” Song statesman and historian Sima Guang wrote that to enshrine some­one after death is what is ritually correct. [‌Nevertheless,‌] since Han times, commoners have made living shrines for some of the ‘shepherds and protectors’ [‌i.e., magistrates and prefects‌] who practiced merciful governance towards commoners. Although this is not in



97. E.g., Fei, Negotiating Urban Space, 280 n. 54.

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the system of the former kings, it all arises from the people’s yearning for them after they have left. Surely it cannot be done away with.98

In fact, Neskar’s exemplary case of a Song “Former Worthy Shrine” (xian xian ci) to a departing prefect is a premortem shrine.99 Principal architect of the Ming ritual order Tao An was enshrined alive; had that been improper, the Ming History compilers would surely have omitted it.100 The classical principle permitting change, frequently deployed in premortem discourse, was that “rites arise from the right” (li yi yi qi). The “Liyun” chapter of the classic Record of Rites says: “Rules of ceremony are the embodied expression of what is right. If an observance stand the test of being judged by the standard of what is right, although it may not have been among the usages of the ancient kings, it may be adopted on the ground of its being right.”101 Premortem enshrinement did not in itself violate ritual propriety. Early Ming edicts and premortem steles drew on the “Laws for Sacrifice” (Jifa) passage in the Record of Rites in establishing standards for worship. Anthony Yu writes that the passage shows state worship of benefactors of the people, including “the worthy human dead.”102 But the passage itself does not specify death: “Sacrifice should be offered to him who gave laws to the people; to him who labored to the death in the discharge of his duties; to him who strengthened the state by his laborious toil; to him who boldly and successfully met great calamities; and to him who warded off great evils.”103 Only one category of worthy had to die; and nothing says that the contributions came before death. The Han History redaction omits death and law entirely 98. Sima Guang, “Record of the Offering Hall to Han [Qi], Duke of Wei.” Song scholar Wei Liaoweng agreed with Sima’s view. Neskar, “Cult of Worthies,” 50–​51, 52, 55. 99. Neskar, “Cult of Worthies,” 81–82. 100. Mingshi 13/136/3925–26; Zhu Guozhen, Huang Ming kaiguo chen zhuan 3/31. 101. Legge, Liji, “Liyun,” “Ceremonial Usages; Their Origins, Development, and Intention.” 102. Yu, State and Religion, 43–44. Yu is citing an identical passage in the Guo yu. His translation “Those who did not belong to the same clan would not be inscribed in the sacrificial canon” should read “those not of this kind.” 103. Based on James Legge’s translation in Liji.



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and talks about contributions to the people: “The sacrificial codes of the Ritual Records state, ‘When the sage kings regulated the sacrifices, if his achievements extended to the people (gongshi yu min), then they sacrificed to him. If he labored to settle the state, then they sacrificed to him. If he was capable of averting major calamities, then they sacrificed to him.’”104 Early Ming edicts recruiting spirits and protecting the cults even of those who were not taken into the state ritual rolls conjoined this passage with the chapter “Royal Regulations” (Wang zhi), which praised “those who have [‌made‌] contributions and [‌shown‌] virtue to the people” (you gong de yu min zhe).105 This awkward phrase, a mainstay of premortem discourse, stresses contributions to the people and downplays death.106 (The term gongde also refers to Buddhist and Daoist merit and may have been understood that way in Ming premortem discourse.) Commenting on changes in the Hongwu laws on various altars and shrines, one gazetteer mentions three kinds of contribution and concludes, as if waiting for death were not even an option: “These are why living shrines are built.”107 Educated men did not merely follow Ming law or go along with imperial views, but debated the propriety of individual shrines and temples, and a myriad of other ritual questions on the basis of their own reading of the Classics. Debates over posthumous shrines raged 104. Hanshu treatise on offerings and a biography, in Brashier, Ancestral Memory, 138–39. Neskar quotes a Song man riffing on this passage (“Cult of Worthies,” 15). 105. The Da Ming huidian, j. 93, and Mingshi 5/50/1306–11 disagree over whether cults protected in 1369 had benefited people “in the past” (chang), or “constantly” or “regularly” (chang). The latter might suggest contributions continuing from life into death. Gongde is sometimes translated as “meritorious virtue,” but Wechsler argues that it refers to two different things, both deserving recognition: merit or contributions, that is, concrete accomplishments; and virtue, the quality of the person (Offerings of Jade and Silk, 176). Ming usage generally bears him out. Taizu had similarly distinguished between talent (cai), which enabled a resident administrator to deal with affairs, and virtue (de), which suffices to manage and order people. He Dongru, Huangzu si da fa 3/30 (314). 106. E.g., 1614 GD Leizhou fuzhi 11/entry for “Mr. Ye’s Living Shrine.” Referring to a government student and an elder who won enshrinement, 1593/1597 NZ Shangyuan xianzhi 7/13–14. For the same phrase in instructions to gazetteerists, see Dennis, Writing, Publishing, and Reading, 42, 46. 107. 1595 NZ Baoying xianzhi, 6/1–2.

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in Ming times, and people were enshrined after death for a wide variety of reasons, including military prowess, scholarship, drowning or untimely death, having loving children or disciples, being the emperor’s father, resisting rape, and so on. Ming writers mostly agreed that living shrines were not built before the shrine to Yu Dingguo’s father in Han times.108 Yet they creatively read and revised classical passages to normalize premortem worship by ignoring death as a variable. Instead, it was service to the people that made premortem shrines proper. One writer reports, “The gentlemen and ministers and gentry and commoners and elders . . . built a living shrine to repay his virtue and asked me to make a record. I examined the ritual regulations [‌and found‌]: ‘Officials who have benefited the commoners: worship them.’”109 A record for a joint living shrine makes reaching the people the sole criterion for worship: The [‌Record of Rites chapter‌] “Laws for Sacrifice” says: Those whose law/ methods/models (fa) reached to the people then make offerings to them. If not, they are not in the ritual statutes. Is not what the several gentlemen have done for the people what is called “putting law into practice”? Therefore, they made an image to invoke them without decay [‌of their memory‌].110

108. But one county school instructor wrote that ancient people had indeed set up stones and living shrines for wise officials, as Fan County people, he predicted, would commemorate those who built walls once they left office. Instructor Liu [‌no given name‌], “Record of the Rebuilding of the Fan County Wall” (1470), in 1535 SD Fanxian zhi 7/3–5. Wang Zhi wrote that posthumous shrines to worthies were also postclassical (Chongbian Wang Wenduan 27/7a). 109. The quotation is from the “Monthly Ordinances” chapter of the Record of Rites: in the second summer month, sacrifices are made to various ranked dignitaries who “benefited the people” to pray for a good harvest. One of Yuan’s steles replaces the word “ranked” (qing) in that source with the similar-looking word “local” (xiang), an error revealing of Ming thinking. Yuan Zhu, “Record of the Shrine to Mr. Li [‌Dai‌]” and “Record of the Living Shrine to Mr. Wang.” 110. 1593/1597 NZ Shangyuan xianzhi, 81a. Additionally building onto the Group of Honorables Grace-Soaking Shrine Qungong Huize shrine, which originally honored ten men. On the range of fa, see Strickmann, Chinese Poetry and Prophecy, 94–95.



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A more dramatic version introduces the chapter on “Shrines and Temples” in a Jiajing-era gazetteer: When the former kings regulated the ritual statutes: living, able to bless the dynasty/country and protect the people; dead [‌or “with their deaths”‌], able to prevent disaster and forestall calamity—these were worshiped 生能福國庇民,死能禦災悍患者:祀之. Although some of Gaocheng [‌C ounty‌]’s shrines and temples have not been recorded in the ritual statutes, in general they have all been set up to benefit this place and this people. So we record them all. 111

This gazetteer reworks the key phrase in the Rites to equate able government with postmortem miracles: virtuous living officials and efficacious spirits equally merit enshrinement. Like Taizu, the writer saw no reason to destroy or denigrate local cults not on the ritual rosters, as long as they had aided locals.112 Another gazetteer’s chapter on “Shrine Worship” explains that the sage-kings regulated worship to announce who deserved temple offerings for their “dark” (spiritual, after death) and “bright” (secular, before death) contributions and virtue (gongde).113 In short, Ming writers interpreted the Classics to say that contributions to the people mattered more for a shrine’s propriety than whether the shrine subject was living, dead, or divine. How should historians understand this creativity? In another context, Pauline Lee speaks of rewording as the writer “ably tailor[‌ing‌] . . . words to suit the particular needs of his argument.”114 But that suggests that people think with a set of tools derived from outside the tradition and then wordsmith classical texts to “justify” whatever it is they want to argue for. Instead, variations probably reflect that men neither 111. 1534 BZ Gaocheng xianzhi 3/2. 112. One stele for a postmortem shrine suggests that the Liji passage sets a low bar; Wang Jianzhi did not merely prevent catastrophes to the people, but also provided long-term benefits, so it is certainly proper to register him among the sacrifices. Gu Dingchen, “Stele for the Legacy of Love Shrine to County Magistrate Mr. Wang [‌Jianzhi‌].” 113. 1577+1592 NZ Yingtian fuzhi 5/2–3, 20/1. Cf. Hansen, Changing Gods, 37–38. 114. Pauline Lee, Li Zhi, 95.

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memorized all the Classics word for word nor were so unfamiliar with them as to have to look them up. Rather, they knew the Classics well enough to think with them. Writers remembered classical passages in ways that made sense to them and understood them in combination with other texts and sources of social thinking as part of an organic creative thinking process.115 This is how new conceptions arise within old language. Reading the Rites as focusing on service to the people rather than on life or death did not “justify” an illegitimate institution; it i­ llustrated widespread Ming ways of thinking. When premortem writers turned to the Odes and to history, again, the difference between life and death was less salient than the relation between official and subjects. A burial and posthumous enshrinement recorded in the Han History became a trope common in the premortem genre. Zhu Yi called his sons to his deathbed and told them: “Once, I was the official in charge of Tongxiang. Those people (min) loved me. I must be buried in my Tongxiang. Later generations of sons and grandsons making cooked offerings to me would not be as good as the Tongxiang people [‌doing so‌].” And he died. His sons buried him in Tong­xiang, outside the western suburb. The people thereupon together raised a mound and established a shrine to [‌Zhu‌] Yi, and the seasonal offerings have not ceased, even up until today.

This story recurs in countless premortem texts as well as in com­ memorations of posthumous honors.116 Writers sometimes invoked the precedent of the several Han living shrines, of Gengsang Chu in the Zhuangzi and of Tang official Di Renjie.117 But Zhu Yi’s story 115. See Nugent, Manifest in Words, 73. Examination candidates specialized in one classic. 116. E.g., Li Sicheng, “Preface for Magistrate Chen [‌Yu‌]’s Promotion to Magistrate of Shangyuan”; Yao Hongmou, “Stele Record for Magistrate Zhu [‌Laiyuan’s‌] Living Shrine.” 117. For Zhuangzi, see Schneewind, “Can Peculiar Yuan Living Shrines?” He Qiaoyuan’s “Stele for the Premortem Shrine to Mr. Ding [‌Qijun‌]” invokes Zhuangzi and other precedents. The shrine to Di Renjie was built by grateful Weizhou people, who then destroyed it out of hatred for Di’s wicked son and successor, and rebuilt it



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made the point that a connection with a jurisdiction could be as deep and lasting as a family or native-place connection. Before or after death, a shrine instantiating such a connection was ritually proper.

Shrines to Eminent Officials Officials could be enshrined posthumously in their jurisdictions, whether in individual shrines or in group shrines. Song Neo-Confucians had initiated Shrines to Former Worthies (xian xian ci) to honor both local scholar-officials and resident administrators.118 As part of a broader adoption of Neo-Confucian local institutions, in 1373 Taizu ordered each county and prefectural Confucian school to set up a pair of shrines: Former Worthies for local gentrymen and Wise Shepherds (xian mu ci) for resident administrators. In 1405, the names became Shrines to Eminent Officials (ming huan ci) and Shrines to Local Worthies (xiang xian ci), but adoption was slow and uneven.119 Ming activist resident administrators of the high Ming period made the pair standard by about 1530, often placing them at schools or Confucian temples (fig. 1.2). Carlitz shows how the shrines instantiated a national elite network. Entry into these shrines could be initiated by local gentry, by descendants of the honoree, or by a resident administrator or twenty-two years after Di’s death. See Lei Wen, “Tangdai difang cisi”; Liu Xu et al., Jiu Tangshu 89/80/2895. 118. Neskar, “Cult of Worthies.” These shrines also had other names. 119. Li Zhizao, “Memorial on Offering-Ritual at the Eminent Officials and Local Worthies Shrines.” If true (invoking Taizu was useful; see Schneewind, Long Live the Emperor), this corrects my earlier view that the paired shrines lacked direction from above (Community Schools, 136). Prefectures and counties initially did this differently, some having one shrine, some two; some behind the main Confucian temple building, some to either side of the gate; see 1729/1736 Shandong tongzhi 14/4. Wise Shepherd Halls had existed in Song, for instance to Fan Zhongyan; see 1736 ZJ Zhejiang tongzhi 44/20. Not all Ming jurisdictions had both of the pair; ZD BZ Xuanfu zhenzhi 3/74b reports an Eminent Officials Shrine only, built in 1504; Local Worthies came later. For a new division into two shrines in 1511 but with nonstandard names, see Zhang Mao, “Record of the Newly Built Legacy of Love Shrine of Sui’an County.” Separating the two groups may have been the point (see Marmé, Suzhou, 299 n. 125), not drawing them together as Carlitz argues in “Shrines, Governing-Class Identity.” On the early Ming central-state adoption of Song localist institutions, see Bol, “‘Localist Turn.’”

Fig. 1.2.  The Shrine to Local Worthies and the Shrine to Eminent Officials. The paired shrines are visible inside the county Confucian temple, to either side of the first courtyard. The half-pond is located in the front courtyard, and in the back courtyard stand steles from Yuan and Ming times. Source: 1565 BZ Gu’an xianzhi.



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education intendant, and it was approved through official petition up to the Ministry of Rites and the Censorate.120 In each county, the paired shrines housed a group of dead exemplars admitted by official processes. They relied on official funding and were not shy about their gentry connections. Local popular consensus might support enshrinement as a local worthy or eminent official.121 But it primarily reflected gentry opinion and required official investigation and permission. And it also required death. That made the paired shrines different from living shrines. Wang Yangming disciple Liu Kui was enshrined alive in Yuzhou (in a Legacy of Love Shrine) and elsewhere, but only after Liu’s death did serial premortem enshrinee Guo Zizhang memorialize that enshrinement as an eminent official would comfort Liu’s loyal soul.122 Education Intendant Geng Dingxiang reports that he had ordered Magistrate Xu Jiusi enshrined in the Jurong Shrine to Eminent Officials and in the Shrine to Local Worthies in Xu’s native county because he mistakenly believed that Xu had died.123 To be admitted into one of the paired shrines, a man had to be dead. After all, as one sternly proper gazetteer says of local worthy status, firm judgment

120. Liu Hsiang-kwang, “Mingdai Huizhou minghuan ci,” 110; Carlitz, “Shrines, Governing-Class Identity,” 631–33, 625. 1729/1736 SD Shandong tongzhi 14/4 specifies that the provincial education intendants were in charge of receiving and investigating petitions. Carlitz says the shrines were never efficacious: “no one prayed for sons or success at Ming worthies’ shrines.” On placement at schools, see Ho Shu-yi, “Wan Ming de difangguan shengci,” 821–22. 121. Within one list of enshrinees: “the county people responded to his virtue and sacrificed to him in the Eminent Officials [‌Shrine‌]”; “the people of his village because of his worthiness offered sacrifice in the Local Worthies [‌Shrine‌]”; “the people all lauded him as having worthiness and virtue”; “the village people, knowing his worth, sacrificed in the Local Worthies [‌Shrine‌]”; and so on (1561 BZ Xuanfu zhenzhi, j. 36). Cf. Liu Hsiang-kwang, “Mingdai Huizhou minghuan ci.” 122. 1774 HN Henan tongzhi 56/105; Mingshi 18/209/5530–31; 1743 Da Qing Yitong zhi 151/19, 250/31; Dardess, Ming Society, 230–33; 1731 GD Guangdong tongzhi 60/179– 81. Jiajing had jailed him for gently remonstrating about expensive renovations to the thunder altar and released him only briefly on the advice of spirits speaking through the planchette. For Guo Zizhang’s own live enshrinements, see DMB, 775. 123. Geng Dingxiang, Xian jin yi feng 21/2/39 (654); Xu Kairen, Ming ming chen yan xing lu 52/40/21 (46).

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awaits death.124 A common pattern was premortem enshrinement in the jurisdiction by local residents and posthumous enshrinement as a local worthy by the authorities at home.125 Overlap between enshrinement alive and as an eminent official was less common.126 The explanation is not that official posthumous shrines conferred more prestige. To the contrary, one record suggests that a living shrine commemorates greater achievements than a posthumous one: a (posthumous) shrine building (ciyu) assures remembrance of a person’s achievements and virtue (gongde), whereas a living shrine, further (you), is for someone who, as a live human, achieves deeds as bright as those of spirits and is requited using the way of spirits as the utmost expression of respect.127 Likewise, a county gazetteer that records only one living shrine to a Ming magistrate, that to Dai Zhi’er, comments that “he properly takes precedence in the [‌Shrine to‌] Eminent Officials”; the others there had had no living shrine.128 Locals enshrining officials upon departure did not wait to see a man’s whole career. Chapter 2 will show why and how the grounds for admittance 124. 1549 BZ Zhending fuzhi, fanli/2. (This beautiful gazetteer, organized to echo the Shiji, deserves study.) Most entries in another long list of local worthies specify that death had preceded enshrinement (1561 BZ Xuanfu zhenzhi 36/2). Gazetteerists often decline to include biographies of the living lest they turn bad (Dennis, Writing, Publishing, and Reading, 38). But they did record living shrines to men who were still alive when the gazetteer was compiled. 125. E.g., 1515/1541 BZ Changtan xianzhi 7/45. 126. For instance, of the live enshrinees in the 1634 SD Yuncheng xianzhi, none appears in the Shrine to Eminent Officials, and only one author appears as a local worthy. But a prefect put Li Jing into the Shrine to Eminent Officials because he had profited the people and they continued to sacrifice to him (1488+JJ HG Yuezhou fuzhi, 173–75.) A derelict living shrine from Song times was absorbed into the Shrine to Eminent Officials (1614 GD Leizhou fuzhi 11/18a). One Eminent Officials Shrine took in a group rendered homeless when their joint Legacy of Love Shrine, originally a solo shrine for Zhou Tang, became defunct (1732 JX Jiangxi tongzhi 109/47). A study of Raoping gazetteers points out that, besides the 25 good magistrates listed (out of 165 in four centuries beginning in 1477), there were also those with roadside steles or shrines (Yu Gouyang, “‘Qusibei,’” 232). 127. Cai Ang, “Record of the ‘Forever Relying’ Shrine to Mr. Hong [‌Yuan‌].” The steles of this county refer to Fan Zhongyan, end with a verse, and describe steles and shrines as feng, meaning tall and grand, as for kings or feudal lords. 128. 1625 BZ Dong’an xianzhi 2/51, 6/114–16.



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to the official Shrine to Eminent Officials contrasted with the reasons for creating a premortem shrine. To summarize, living shrines could cost a lot or a little. They were common enough to be well understood but were bestowed on a small minority of officials. They looked just like posthumous shrines, and, like other kinds of worship, ceremonies there were meant to reciprocate the contributions of one or more enshrinees. At an altar holding an image or table, officials and subjects offered regular and irregular obeisances; spoken, sung, and written prayers; wine, incense, and food; and perhaps animal sacrifices. But there were differences from posthumous shrines, too. Whereas many different kinds of people were commonly enshrined after death, living shrines were normatively for resident administrators and other officials (but see chapter 8). Posthumous shrines could have a single sponsor and a single donor; if public, as in the case of the Shrines to Eminent Officials, they required government approval. Premortem shrines were supposed to draw on a broad base of local support, which could include friends, but should not be limited to them. If the enshrinee had done something worthwhile and had left office without suborning anyone into honoring him, a living shrine was functionally legal with or without government permission. Similarly, real service to the people made living shrines ritually proper even without specific government permission. And why not? After all, every living person is merely a dead person in the making. Or, as Erik Mueggler writes, “the living are as imaginary as the dead”129—at least after they have left town.

129. Mueggler, “Corpse, Stone, Door, Text,” 39.

Chapter Two

Parentalism Today I have carefully chosen you and am handing over a prefecture to you with the people of a thousand li area. Their safety and well-being all depend on you. You should embody my dedication and take on caring for the people as your duty. You must ensure that they have enough food and clothing and that propriety and rites are taught. You should investigate their joys and sorrows, equalize their division of labor, implement good policies, and eliminate the harmful. You should accord with [‌or even “obey”‌] popular feeling in everything (yi shun min qing). . . . You also need to follow the law and govern reasonably, and from the beginning to the end do not lose your resolution so that you will uphold my commission. —Xuande emperor to new prefects, 14301

W

hat sort of man won a living shrine? What class of people enshrined him? To address these questions, I will begin with three late Ming enshrinees who happen to share a surname.

1. Translated in Nimick, Local Administration, 49.

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Three Exemplars Named Ding The first is Ding Liyuan (d. 1633). Harry Miller calls Liyuan a “fairly typical gentry stalwart.” Occasionally generous, Ding was one of a Jia­ shan County group who consistently cheated on their taxes by registering their landholdings in other counties with lower tax rates. Resident administrators and gentry of the other counties tried repeatedly to correct the registration. Ding Liyuan opposed any new land survey by every possible means, sabotaged and forged land registers, and led a mob to riot at the prefectural office and vandalize the house of one of the opposing gentry faction. The resident administrators all resigned. Liyuan’s dauntless, illegal opposition to state authority and his protection by Donglin friends at court illustrate the late Ming gentry focus on protecting their class interests against state demands as part of their struggle with the court over control of state policy.2 It was probably members of his faction who engineered Liyuan’s premortem enshrinement at home. Quite a different sort was Ding Gaiting (js. 1571). “Known for his extraordinary generosity,” writes Joanna Handlin Smith, Gaiting enjoyed a long and honorable career after a brief run-in with Grand Secretary Zhang Juzheng. His long life was thought to be due to his merit for he handed out grain to long lines of people in time of famine, personally visited the poor and the sick, and contributed to rebuilding the city wall and defending against pirates. He arranged for commendations of the filial and the chaste. Although he may have decided to contribute grain only to forestall its less-creditable requisition, Gaiting had accrued enough moral authority to be a useful ally to a gentry neighbor forming a benevolent society in 1632. New in late Ming, benevolent societies permitted constructive, legitimate civic activism to men of all walks of life, even “farmers, merchants, or yamen staff.” They were approved by government officials but led by gentrymen of conscience, working for their neighbors with local pride.3 Gaiting fits into



2. Harry Miller, State versus Gentry, 112–15. 3. Smith, Art of Doing Good, 66–70.

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this category. His contributions were recognized with a premortem shrine in his hometown.4 Ding Qinghui (b. 1541), by contrast, favored government activism in negotiating equitable solutions within a hierarchical society heavily slanted toward big landowners like Liyuan, few of whom were as responsible as Gaiting. As Si-yen Fei has explained, Ding Qinghui took extraordinary steps to carry out tax reform that accorded with the “people’s will” in Nanjing in 1609. As censor in Nanjing, he received a petition from the subjects of Nanjing requesting tax reform and noting that a lack of “public consensus” (gong yi) had undermined previous efforts. To build that consensus, Ding first personally interviewed three or four representatives of both rich and poor residents of each neighborhood association in the city; held a well-publicized public hearing at which every complaint was investigated by censors for the five boroughs; convened a conference of all important central government officials in Nanjing and a thousand Nanjing residents, asking the latter whether the proposed reform was appropriate, asking the question again of only the poorer residents, and demanding that they explain their answers; sent out censors to visit the households of the poor, solitary, and disabled to fit their payments to their situations; and called for opinions once again after all the final accountings had been posted.5 Ding mobilized state personnel en masse to assure that both rich and poor residents agreed to a proposal put forward by the urban community and then carried out the reforms and inscribed them in stone. Had every official carried out Ding Qinghui’s kind of detailed state activism with attention to each and every family, the tax abuses of Ding Liyuan and his manufacturing of a mob would have been impossible and the benevolent charity of Ding Gaiting unnecessary. Ding Qinghui was honored with a shrine in Nanjing three years before he died, which Fei calls “the ultimate recognition by the Nanjing community.”6 Each Mr. Ding had a living shrine. Each was a different type of man, drawn by three historians from the primary sources without

4. 1743 Da Qing yitong zhi 220/24a. 5. Fei, Negotiating Urban Space, 51–55. 6. Fei, Negotiating Urban Space, 280 n. 54.

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e­ rror or prevarication, without deception or carelessness. So different! Yet they are all the same man: Ding Bin (1541–1631, js. 1571, Jiashan native, zi Liyuan, hao Gaiting, posthumous name Qinghui).7 “What sorts of men were honored with shrines?” is the wrong question, it turns out. For a shrine commemorates what matters to its particular sponsors or writers. Others surely disagreed. No one is purely “good,” and no action is good for all. Zhangqiu County magistrate Zhang Qicheng built community schools and charitable granaries; when he left, “the people all made images and worshiped him” 民皆肖像尸祝之.8 But when the imperial tombs were flooded, he memorialized that they were the belly and heart, and the people’s lives only the hands and feet—the security of the tombs came before people’s needs.9 Dangtu magistrate Wang Siren had dissuaded a eunuch from opening a mine, worked on water control, and overseen six good harvest years, so that he had surplus funds to use for public works and buildings. But he was also an arrogant fellow who got himself demoted by offending a colleague. His own father expressed the hope that his demotion might teach him a lesson in humility. Any such lesson was surely undermined when he arrived home in disgrace only to hear that the Dangtu people had set up a shrine “to honor him.”10 Even honest commemorations select and shape facts, focusing, like the three American historians writing about Ding Bin, on certain aspects of a complex human being’s career or character. So a better question than “What sorts of men were honored with shrines?” would be “What actions of the man does this shrine honor?” Since most premortem shrines honored prefects or magistrates, I will briefly introduce the resident administrator’s job.

7. Ding also appears prominently in Ho Shu-yi, “Wan Ming difangguan shengci,” 829–38. 8. 1692 SD Ji’nan fuzhi 25/60. 9. 1735 SH Shaanxi tongzhi 60/108. 10. DMB, 1421–22.

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The Resident Administrator’s Job The resident administrator held great authority and power in his ­assigned prefecture, subprefecture, or county, managing almost all ­aspects of government. Living and working in a compound of gov­ ernment buildings usually called a yamen, he oversaw six offices that matched the six ministries of the capitals (Rites, Personnel, Revenue, Public Works, Punishment, War) as well as dispensing justice in the local court and sometimes giving lessons in the school. Whenever he left the yamen, the streets were cleared before him and a ceremonial umbrella like a halo was held up behind him. Yet he was a stranger to the area and often a new examination graduate. To survive, the prefect, subprefect, or magistrate had to satisfy his superiors with gifts and deference as well as good work; avoid alienating local power holders who might be bitter enemies; control his staff, his demeanor, his words, and his documents to preserve a spotless reputation and the distance authority required; and answer to and control spirits and deities both local and national.11 The difficulties of governing—and being governed—are laid out in a record for a posthumous shrine. No matter how well laid his plans, writes Zheng Ji, a resident administrator may fail to win fame. Assigned to a difficult county, he finds that what he orders is not done and what he prohibits does not stop. Though he may announce plans to every family and inform every household, yet not one person will follow them. In this case, the locality has ungratefully turned its back on the man. On the other hand, a law-abiding and good jurisdiction may be saddled with so cruel and covetous an administrator that even the best families must abandon their fields and turn bandit: this is the man ungratefully turning his back on the locality. In one out of ten cases, a bad locality rejects a good man; in nine out of ten, a bad official betrays his jurisdiction.12 Hired, fired, and frequently transferred by the central state, the resident administrators delegated to run the country had to negotiate on a daily basis with local society, including gentrymen who outranked

11. On the last item, see Taylor, “Official Religion,” 844, 879–81. 12. Zheng Ji, “Legacy of Love Stele Record for Xinghua Prefect Mr. Wang [‌Bi‌].”

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them, in order to get anything done.13 David Robinson glosses the common admonition to “accord well with the wishes of the people” as referring to the “constant mediation needed to harmonize the dictates of the court with local interests.”14 To both manage the balancing act and win lasting local approbation was a hard job.15 But these Confucian scholar-officials were steeped in classical and historical thinking about the people’s well-being as the basis of the state. Many took the job seriously and did their best. Those who held jinshi degrees had the best chance of making a difference, but some juren and even students serving as magistrates or in lower county positions like instructor or warden made an effort and won local recognition. American scholarship on Qing governance has moved from emphasizing imperial control, gentry hegemony, and the corruption of yamen clerks and runners to stressing achievements. But Qing controlled its magistrates closely, as John Watt shows.16 In Ming times, until 1380 the magistrate had considerable authority and autonomy; for the next two decades commoners designated as tax captains and 13. Ming offices were ranked in eighteen grades from 1a at the top to 9b at the bottom. The term “resident administrators” includes prefects (ranked 4b, 4a, or 3b), subprefects (5b), and county magistrates (7b, 7a, or 6b). In a populous late Ming prov­ ince, a prefect would oversee roughly 10,000 square miles and 600,000 people, and a magistrate, 1,300 square miles with 90,000 inhabitants (Hucker, “Ming Government,” 15). The Ming magistrate had a staff of one or more centrally appointed subordinates, about twenty centrally registered clerks from the same province (who had paid a fee to qualify for the post after being certified by their home county’s magistrate as literate and reputable), and many more local staffers, who typically had paid for their posts or had ties to local power holders (Nimick, Local Administration, 5, 97). 14. Robinson, Bandits, Eunuchs, 159. 15. Yu Gouyang, “‘Qusibei,’” 232. Yu draws the moral that it is not an easy job today either. 16. Chü, Local Government, paints a dark picture of a magistrate unable to speak the local dialect, reliant on the self-interested help of the local gentry, and fighting rampant corruption among clerks and runners. Hsiao, Rural China, adds a wealth of detail on magistrates trying to shape and even assist their jurisdictions, but emphasizes ruling-class exploitation of commoners. Watt, District Magistrate, argues that the Qing court was too obsessed with controlling magistrates to allow them the leeway to act for good. Zelin, Magistrate’s Tael, portrays the fiscal complexities of a state trying to serve the people on a low budget, under a strong-minded and competent emperor; and others also paint a more favorable picture.

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leaders of hundreds and tithings (lijia) collected revenue, and elders managed local conflicts. Control reverted to magistrates—with so few guidelines that practices diverged dramatically—and then shifted to prefects recommended and retained for their competence. Exami­ nations and seniority regained dominance from about 1470, and, by about the midpoint of the dynasty (1506), magistrates had charge of all county affairs. Two provincial officials held them responsible mainly for results—regardless of method—in filling tax quotas, containing violence within the jurisdictional border, and resolving lawsuits, with Confucian moral leadership a secondary duty, but did not press magis­ trates with metropolitan degrees (jinshi) too hard even in these areas.17 Thomas Nimick argues that the dynasty long survived enormous changes in population, agriculture, commerce, and the composition of the literate elite precisely because the contradictions of the magistrate’s position gave him “independent authority” to respond flexibly to pressure from above and below.18 The resident administrator, whether prefect, subprefect, or magistrate, also had charge of the state worship of spirits, from the City God with his army of restless ghosts to Confucius and the eminent officials. On arrival, he visited each deity, swearing to do his best and asking for help, reminding each spirit, “Your world and mine are closely connected.”19 In governing, secular and sacred techniques were intertwined, and they appear cheek-by-jowl in the sources. As Vincent Goossaert and Donald Sutton have pointed out, the socially recognized “charisma” or “sincerity” of Buddhists, Confucians, Daoists, shamans, or others that could bring rain could also elicit a response (ganying) from gods or humans, whether to change customs, exorcise demons, or win cooperation in a “daunting task,” such as an expensive construction project.20 Although many resident administrators just tried to survive or squeeze money from the population, many others 17. Nimick, Local Administration, 69, 86, 98, 101, and chap. 3. On lijia and other systems see Heijdra, “Socio-Economic Development,” 458–96. 18. Nimick, Local Administration, 97, 112–19, and chap. 5. For a balanced view of the successes and failures of Ming government, see Dardess, Concise History. 19. Shen Shixing et al., Da Ming huidian 59/1453–55, order of 1385. 20. Goossaert, “Mapping Charisma”; Sutton, “Prefect Feng,” 20.

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worked hard.21 And some—Hsiao estimated about one-fifth of resident administrators over the Ming and Qing periods—won local honors, sometimes shrines.22 What did those who won honors do to stand out? Whose interests did they prioritize? Setting aside shrines that represented only gentry flattery of worthless officials, Osabe concluded that enshrinement reflected appreciation of virtuous governance of six key types. “Transforming customs” came first: education, promoting Confucian ritual and family ethics, examination success, uplifting “local customs,” and turning people away from Buddhism, Daoism, and popular cults. The other five items on Osabe’s list are fair taxation; protection from violence; welfare and resettlement; livelihood issues such as fixing homes, aiding the poor, and increasing profit; and, finally, settling lawsuits and disputes and releasing people from jail.23 “Transforming customs” frequently earned one a place in the Shrines to Eminent Officials. If transforming customs also led to enshrinement alive, we may fairly conclude that gentry sponsored premortem shrines. The other endeavors on Osabe’s list appealed to a broader public, gentry and commoners, rich and poor alike. To approach the question of who sponsored shrines and why, I will test Osabe’s types of virtuous governance against the particular contributions of enshrinees. (Recall that I report textual claims without prefacing each with “supposedly” or “we are told.”) The results will suggest a role for ordinary people, showing that local people, including commoners, shaped a style of government we might call Confucian paternalism or—better—parentalism.

Education, Ritual, Customs Many men enshrined as “eminent officials” had worked on jiao­ hua—“teaching and transformation.” Some focused on serving gentry by teaching students and supporting county or prefectural schools and 21. For a magistrate’s own statement on his great responsibility, a duty received from the Son of Heaven to work for the People of Heaven, see 1503 ZJ Wenzhou fuzhi, 978. 22. Hsiao, Rural China, 436–37. 23. Osabe, “Shina seishi shoko,” 42.

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academies. When an incumbent magistrate modestly refused a shrine built to thank him for constructing a pagoda, by turning the shrine into Xuwen County’s first guild, designed for exam study and the arts, it is most likely that gentry or would-be gentry had sponsored the shrine in the first place.24 Neighboring capsule biographies in one gazetteer report honors by “commoners” (baixing) and “elders” (fulao) for other matters, but it was “gentlemen” (junzi) that honored an official who specialized in teaching.25 Education alone rarely earned a premortem shrine without other contributions. Yes, Li Zongyan supported schools, but he also memorialized strongly against an onerous tax-​ transport duty, established a hospital and pharmacy, fed people when the harvest failed, set up an enormous building to house refugees, and kept government from abusing people.26 Yes, Fu Shangbi “worked diligently at promoting schools and making scholars” and implemented the community compact, but he also supported a granary and a charitable graveyard, and he forced the yamen personnel to respect the law. When Fu was transferred, “the people, cherishing his virtue, made a living shrine for him.”27 Improving gentry behavior rarely earned a living shrine, either. Huang Yu, grandfather of the ideologically energetic Huang Zuo, as magistrate of Changle County from 1469 transformed the gentry with ritual, reconciling brothers engaged in a lawsuit; but, to earn his shrine, he also prayed effectively and dealt with an insect infestation.28 Zhang Mian promoted ritual and was so closely associated with the community compact lecture hall that, when he left Wucheng, locals put his stele and image in what they dubbed the “Compact Shrine.” But the shrine explicitly commemorated Zhang’s saving county residents’ lives in the pirate war and resulting grain shortages.29 In the Jiajing period, Taizhou prefect Zhou Shiqi discussed the Classics and propriety with gentry sons every day, but he earned his premortem “Gantang Legacy of Love Shrine” for both settling a long-standing legal dispute among

24. Wu Kai, “Ming Qing dai Xuwen,” 291. 25. 1515 JX Ruizhou fuzhi, 892–96. 26. 1692 SD Ji’nan fuzhi 25/62–63. 27. 1692 SD Ji’nan fuzhi 25/63. 28. 1731 GD Guangdong tongzhi 45/143–44. 29. 1612 FJ Quanzhou fuzhi 20/1568.

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the powerful (hence the reference to Duke Shao’s judgment seat) and (as his “legacy of love”) assuring bureaucratic help in managing damage to floodgates that had hurt production.30 Even moral education that targeted commoners directly did not suffice for premortem enshrinement. Government student Li Gong as magistrate of Xiaoshan in the 1440s promoted schools and strenuously fought the local custom of letting daughters die as infants. When the girls who survived married in a timely way years later, people realized he had been right, but they had enshrined him long before because he had equalized taxes and corvée.31 Activist Li Zikun poured energy into community schools and their endowment, so the gentry (shiren) considered him virtuous, but commoners (min), the supposed beneficiaries of community schools, supported enshrinement for his financial arrangements.32 Osabe argued that across Chinese history influencing local customs through education and guidance secured a reputation for virtuous governance.33 In Ming times, although often honored in the Shrines to Eminent Officials and posthumous individual shrines, education, ritual, and moral instruction rarely brought premortem enshrinement. One premortem stele distinguished jiao, teaching, from zheng, governing: taking care of commoners’ livelihoods and dealing with pestilence, locusts, and famine.34 Locals honored these broader, more practical contributions with premortem enshrinement. Wang Guangyu’s filial prayers to Heaven may have cured his mother’s blindness, but it was his earnest work on behalf of the people, including buying women out

30. 1736 ZJ Zhejiang tongzhi 154/21, 222/12; 1732 JX Jiangxi tongzhi 91/30. When Zhou went to Sichuan as military defense vice-commissioner, the various Miao and other barbarians hung up his portrait, submitted, and stayed contentedly in their homes, we are told. 31. 1612 FJ Quanzhou fuzhi 19/1459. 32. 1557 NZ Jiading xianzhi 2/8, 7/11b. See also Schneewind, Community Schools; and Tang Ai’s biography, 1612 FJ Quanzhou fuzhi 10/884. Wanli magistrate Zhang Xigao worked on community schools and was enshrined alive (1826 GD Dianbai xianzhi 14/25). 33. Osabe, “Shina seishi shoko,” 42. 34. Wei Kewan, “Stele on the Virtuous Governance of Yuanshi County Magistrate Mr. Zheng [‌Sanjun‌].”

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of slavery, that earned him enshrinement.35 Action took the moral measure of a Ming Confucian man long before the crisis over hair, ethnicity, and loyalty in the transition to Qing.36

How to Earn a Premortem Shrine County Magistrate Mr. Hou’s Living Shrines. When His Honor arrived at his post, he did away with things harming the people (min), saved the people’s money, spared the people’s labor, and taught them to live. In everything, he took protecting the people to heart. Therefore, the people, responding to his virtue, competed to establish living shrines to make offerings to him. Elder Wang Wen and others established a shrine at the East Gate. Wang Tingyu and others established a shrine to the right of the City God Temple.37

Imperial commands, the Classics, and Neo-Confucian commentary all legitimated the idea that the people’s well-being mattered. They left open, however, the question of who knew what was best for the people. The basic Neo-Confucian text the “Great Learning” quotes Ode number 251: “Happiness to our lord, who is the father and mother of his people.” The text explains: “When a ruler likes what the people like and dislikes what the people dislike, this is called being ‘father and mother of the people.’” Zhu Xi’s commentary explains: “If one takes the people’s [‌moral‌] heart-mind as one’s own heart-mind, then he loves the people like children, and the people will love him like a parent.”38 Zhu Xi’s abstract empathy might have put decisions in the hands of the ruling gentleman, but there were other ways to read the principle. The Yongle emperor told his revenue officials that “the way to achieve governance of the people is to protect and feed them; that’s all.” This could be seen as mere paternalism, looking after the sheep one wishes to 35. 1735 SX Shanxi tongzhi 124/16. 36. Contra Chow, Rise of Confucian Ritualism, 46. 37. 1529 HN Dengfeng xinzhi 1/21 (30). Neither Wang held a degree or appears elsewhere in the gazetteer. 38. “Great Learning,” paragraph 12 (ctext.org).

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fleece. But, in another speech, Yongle instructed 1,500 new provincial officials that “the way of rulership is to follow the wishes of the people.”39 That could be read as meaning both their expressed desires and their views on how to attain them. Steles for living shrines picked up this thread. “I have known no prior prefect of Yanzhou to match this Mr. Wan,” Wang Zhi wrote. “He can truly be called ‘the father and mother of the people.’ The way of the parent is to like (hao) what they [‌t he children‌] like and dislike (wu) what they dislike, and that’s all.”40 One shrine record drew on language from the Analects to argue that “His Honor’s ‘getting people’ so deeply must be because of his going along with what they want and not doing what they dislike” 聚其所欲,勿施其所惡. The record calls this Mr. Tang’s big principle of practical governance, a principle that he carried out though most officials could not even think it through and certainly dared not act on it.41 Again, the language could suggest to different readers either that the magistrate should listen to people and take their specific suggestions, or that what they would like and dislike generally was clear. Either way, the focus is on their well-being, not the needs of the central state. What kinds of activities did locals honor in shrines? First came protection from organized violence. Zhao Kesheng argues that two types of men generally won proper living shrines: resident administrators and military commanders.42 Indeed, many of the men who fought pirates in the mid-sixteenth century were enshrined, from big names like Hu Zongxian and Qi Jiguang to lesser-known ones enshrined in particular counties.43 Baoying County enshrined eight officials alive 39. Shih-shan Henry Tsai, Perpetual Happiness, 80, citing the Veritable Records. 40. Wang Zhi, Chongbian Wang Wenduan gong wenji 25/9a. 41. Chen Rang, “Stele for the Premortem Shrine to Nan’an Magistrate Tang [‌Ai‌].” Analects 12.2 and 15.24 use these words to speak of not doing to others what you yourself would dislike. 42. Zhao Kesheng, “Mingdai shengci,” 127. 43. Hu Shunhua in Xinghua (1684 NZ Xinghua xianzhi 2/484); Lu Zhongtian, in two jurisdictions in Fujian for antipirate measures and repeated pleadings with superiors on behalf of the locals (1631 FJ Min shu 54/9); Liu Jingshao and Xiong Shangwen (1633 NZ Taizhou zhi 4/22–24, 8/80–86, 80/95–98). For Qi Jiguang, DMB,

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who had worked on defense against pirates.44 Many other enshrinees had defended cities from bandit attack, like Nan’an magistrate Xia Ruli, whose modeled image was added into Tang Ai’s shrine for joint worship.45 The need for protection could override bureaucratic niceties: Lin Jun happened to be on the spot when bandits attacked a place outside his jurisdiction and took charge of the defense at the request of locals; within a week he had chased the bandits out. He earned a shrine.46 The dynasty also cared about peace and security, but subjects faced real dangers of violence to lives and livelihoods in their locales. When in 1517–18 philosopher-official Wang Yangming ended decades of local predation where Jiangxi, Huguang, Fujian, and Guangdong meet, jin­ shi Liu Jie of Dayu County in Jiangxi received a visit from four elders of neighboring Nankang County. In explaining their plan to establish a shrine with an image where they could make offerings to “recompense” (bao) Wang, the elders described to Liu the destruction “beyond words” that the area had experienced and how the pacification “allowed us commoners (wo min) to calm our parents; protect our grandsons and sons; profit from our mulberry, hemp, and grain; and allowed the gentry to complete their studies in the schools; the laborers to eat from their strength; the merchants to sell their goods.”47 In his record, Liu Jie recounted Wang’s political career, his courageous rescue of an official targeted by eunuch dictator Liu Jin, his imprisonment and exile, his self-cultivation and his jiangxue gatherings when he returned to a post in Nanjing, his reputation as a sage, and how his sageliness enhanced his effectiveness on the battlefield. But none of that mattered to the four named elders (local men with no examination degrees) who established the shrine. Rather, the shrine, which “enabled people to keep [‌Wang‌] before their eyes and think of him in their hearts,” 222. The pirate-related shrine materials await further research; I wonder, for instance, whether sponsoring such a shrine was a way to certify that one was not involved in the piracy. 44. 1595 NZ Baoying xianzhi, 6/4–13. 45. 1612 FJ Quanzhou fuzhi 10/885 for Xia. Ren Bin won a shrine for protecting the city and attacking bandits in Pinghe (1735 SX Shanxi tongzhi 125/11). 46. DMB, 924. 47. Liu Jie, “Record of the Premortem Shrine to Capital Censor Mr. Wang Yangming.”

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celebrated how Wang defeated bandits, assuring local security and the popular livelihood.48 Effective protection earned shrines. The second contribution premortem shrines honored was justice, especially clearing backlogs of old cases. Justice loomed large in bureaucratic assessment of a resident administrator. Local subjects also cared about justice, sometimes in the same way as the center: enshrined magistrate Zhang Mei’s justice had been swift and fair.49 But sometimes the locality saw the problem differently. They valued Magistrate Wang for solving cases without beating people much.50 Bao Ergeng earned enshrinement by releasing people jailed on false charges.51 Saving people from the state’s justice process was parentalist protection. Under Wu Xian, magistrate of Yuanshi in the 1450s, “a jungle of melon vines grew up in the court and jail,” so little used were they; everyone cried when he left.52 Less was more, where state justice was concerned. Justice, of course, pitted some locals against others: Magistrate Xia Ji arrested a murderer whose clan was so powerful that no one had dared arrest him; after failing to pressure Xia into releasing the murderer, the circuit had Xia transferred away, and (other) locals enshrined him.53 The shrine presented Xia as a champion of justice for the less powerful. A third contribution sometimes honored by locals was work on infrastructure, which Nimick found to be not a high priority in state assessment of resident administrators. In the Yongle period, Chen Xuan managed the immense task of supplying the north with grain, including reopening part of the Grand Canal; according to gazetteers, he managed to not totally destroy the workers’ lives in the process, and he was enshrined at numerous places along the canal.54 As magistrate, 48. Liu Jie, “Record of the Premortem Shrine to Capital Censor Mr. Wang Yangming.” 49. 1890 SH [‌Gansu‌] Lixian zhi 3/2. He also went easy collecting taxes and worked on water management. 50. Zheng Zhongkui, Yu zhu xin tan 3/3–4. 1736 ZJ Zhejiang tongzhi 156/52 confirms that he served in Rui’an in 1612 and died in office there. 51. 1736 NZ Jiangnan tongzhi 141/27. He also cleared the Yao people out of the district; minorities sometimes did not count as min. 52. 1642 BZ Yuanshi xianzhi 3/336. 53. 1538 NZ Kunshan xianzhi 10/28; Zhang Dafu, Kunshan renwu 4/17 (596). 54. DMB, 159, notes two shrines “in his memory,” but Mingshi 14/153/4205, 4209, and more explicitly Wu Sixue, Song Kanghui [‌Li‌] gong ci zhi, contrast him with his

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government student Liu Yan built the first public buildings in new Heping County, including a community school, and was enshrined alive.55 Li Zongyan, among other things, set up a pharmacy and hospital to heal people.56 Wang Yuan capped a record of good governance in the Yongle period by rebuilding a broken bridge in Chaozhou.57 When excessive rain wiped out a wooden bridge in Huailai late in the Wanli period, Zhang Jingshi replaced it, and the people built a shrine to him to the west of the bridge, in order to worship him (shi zhu zhi).58 Bridges facilitated commerce and replaced dangerous boat crossings. Li Jing’s shrine on the banks of Lake Dongting surely offered a view of “Mr. Li’s Bridge,” “Mr. Li’s Embankment,” and “Mr. Li’s Sluice Gate,” as the inhabitants imaginatively referred to the three-part construction that made the whole lake (Xu says) one great market from east to south, a gathering of sails like clouds (fig. 2.1).59 The kinds of construction rewarded by shrines were projects that met local security and livelihood needs, prominently safety and commerce. Yet infrastructure cost money. A rare man who built a bridge ­without—​the elders swore up and down—demanding money or labor from the people was called “Divine Lord Liu.”60 So infrastructure could clash with a fourth priority: saving the locality from state demands for resources. This could mean cutting expeditures. Enshrined Zichuan contemporary Song Li, who also built canals but was enshrined only in the Hongzhi period or perhaps as late as 1512. Gazetteers record shrines in various places without saying that he was dead: 1506 NZ Gusu zhi 28/26; 1736 NZ Jiangnan tongzhi 40/6, 40/31, 40/37, 58/41 (shrine listed under Yongle 14, i.e., 1415), 112/31 (all along the canal); 1733 HG Huguang tongzhi 56/19 (many). 55. 1556 GD Huizhou fuzhi 11/27–28. 56. 1692 SD Ji’nan fuzhi 25/63. 57. Mingshi 24/281/111. His bridge and the shrine appear in 1731 GD Guangdong tongzhi 41/1 and 60/180: the authorities were still making annual offerings at the shrine. The gazetteer includes a memorial requesting further local official worship of Wang and other earlier illustrious officials, submitted by none other than Guo Zizhang. See also Wang’s biography in Jiao Hong, Guochao xianzheng lu 100/4. 58. 1882 BZ Huailai xianzhi 11/23. His successor also earned a living shrine on the day he left, after alerting the authorities to an earthquake disaster and acquiring relief grain. 59. Xu Zhuo, “Record of the Renovation of Three Shrines.” 60. 1639 NZ [‌Chongxiu‌] Dangshan xianzhi 2/709.

Fig. 2.1.  Li Jing’s Premortem Shrine. Source: 1488+JJ HG Yuezhou fuzhi, 28.

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magistrate Shen Qi’s governance was “simple and economical.”61 Enshrined Zhangqiu magistrate Dong Wencai had eliminated “fire master” duty and spared the lijia from that work or expense.62 Limiting demands could mean that an official was not corrupt. A magistrate whom the commoners lauded in a stone inscription left with not a single coin in his bag.63 Similarly, Xu Wenxian was so upright that he would not take even one coin; his servant boy suffered cold and hunger, and his family was impoverished.64 Xintai magistrate Li Xianming departed with nearly empty—yet elegant—luggage: “nothing more than one trunk of books and pictures. The gentry and commoners visited the imperial court to retain him; having failed, they set up a living shrine to him.”65 Honored magistrates not only curbed their own expenditures and impulses toward corruption, but also curbed the greed of government staff.66 But particularly when demands were newly imposed or came from far away, corruption and taxation looked similar from the local perspective. Those who lowered taxes often won shrines. As well as fend­ ing off bandits, Tang Ai and Xia Ruli, who joined Tang’s shrine, both lowered taxes.67 In 1580, Magistrate Lin Dafu of Shangyuan (half of Nanjing city) joined an existing shrine for much the same reason.68 Feng Weine got a Jiangxi porcelain tax commuted to cash, so the people made offerings to his image.69 Liu Dawen refused to carry out an imperial requisition and earned a Legacy of Love Shrine.70 Posted to the very tip of the Leizhou peninsula, tribute student Wang Pu won a 61. 1692 SD Ji’nan fuzhi 25/64. 62. 1692 SD Ji’nan fuzhi 25/51. Zhangqiu also enshrined Magistrate Zhao Ying, because in 1531 he “pacified bandits and put thievery to rest, caught locusts and prohibited foxes. Even children who could not yet walk spoke of the Way.” 1692 SD Ji’nan fuzhi 25/44–45. 63. 1692 SD Ji’nan fuzhi 25/52. 64. 1743 Da Qing Yitong zhi 157/12. 65. 1692 SD Ji’nan fuzhi 25/61, 62. 66. Wu Jie, “Stele on the Governing Accomplishments of Gu’an Magistrate Mr. Li [‌Duan‌].” 67. 1612 FJ Quanzhou fuzhi 10/884. 68. 1593/1597 NZ Shangyuan xianzhi 7/13–14. 69. 1884 SD Linqu xianzhi 14/26b. 70. 1736 NZ Jiangnan tongzhi 115/8–9.

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shrine for ending onerous court demands for pearls.71 Tribute student Suo Shao earned enshrinement when transferred away from his post in Qinghe County. Both the reward of the shrine and the punishment of the transfer came because he had successfully petitioned so that Qinghe paid only 10 or 20 percent of what other counties did toward Jiajing’s southern tour.72 Didactic texts praised frugality.73 But locally popular practices like cutting taxes and the even more onerous corvée labor duties commoners owed the state, spending less, eschewing bribes, and reining in greedy underlings or overlings received little recognition or encouragement from the central state.74 That tax relief could earn a shrine must have been well understood among resident administrators, who faced choices that affected their careers and reputations— and subjects’ lives. These four priorities all relate to a fifth. The people’s livelihood, both agricultural and mercantile—sometimes their “benefit” or even “profit”—lies at the heart of many commemorations. Following long tradition, officials promoted production through education.75 Shao Min improved textile manufacture in Chuxiong County, Yunnan.76 Officials also arranged handouts to the poor, in ordinary times and in famine. Early in the Yongle period, Guangping prefect Li Zi “soothed and succored the poor and impoverished, and the people (min) loved and honored him as a parent.”77 Enshrined Magistrate Gao Guang in Gansu had succored and saved the famished.78 When flooding caused 71. 1736 ZJ Zhejiang tongzhi 167/29; 1596 ZJ Xiushui xianzhi. 72. 1581+SZ BZ Qinghe xianzhi 75–76; 1550 BZ Guangping fuzhi 7/7. 73. See Schneewind, “Book of the Five Relationships,” 224–25. 74. So perhaps we do know something of lower-class constructions of frugality, contra Clunas, “Regulation of Consumption,” 47, 49. Lü Kun was adopting these values when he railed against the prodigality of the rich. 75. Gang Deng lists ninety-nine manuals on agriculture and sericulture by premodern officials; other officials hired experts to write such manuals for dissemination. One Ming magistrate put up monthly posters of instruction, and others spoke with people to reach the illiterate. Development versus Stagnation, 85–86, 126–32, 187–88. 76. 1625 YN Dian zhi 11/45 (617) and 1510 YN Yunnan zhi 19.2/23–4 (810–11). 77. 1551 BZ Qinghe xianzhi 2/16; 1735 BZ Jifu tongzhi 69/39 has dropped the “loved.” 78. 1890 SH [‌Gansu‌] Lixian zhi 3/1b. For another enshrinee who fed the hungry, 1529 HN Dengfeng xinzhi 1/21.

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the famine, infrastructure might be part of the solution.79 In drought, there was only prayer.80 Many Ming resident administrators prayed for rain to whatever gods locals recommended, as Snyder-Reinke has demonstrated for Qing times; a stele on Guilei mountain recorded Magistrate Xia Ji’s effective prayer there, for instance.81 Jinning subprefect Ding Gui rebuilt county schools and altars, but, more important, in flood or drought his prayers worked immediately. People sang: Drought: everyone tense; His Honor burned incense. Rain: all dismayed; His Honor prayed.82

Magistrate Sheng Chang, in drought, prayed and got rain. But saying, “This is not a plan,” he also had people dig out 1,250 ponds so that, when drought next came, no one was harmed. People (min) made a living shrine for him at the Luozhen Daoist temple.83 Not only weather but insects and bad government could bring hunger. Posted to Chenzhou in about 1436, Zhang Zhidao taught the people to weave and to plough, and prayed to unspecified deities so effectively that his jurisdiction alone in the area escaped a plague of locusts.84 In 1641, when the crop failed in Xiao County and the state still demanded taxes, Donglin protégé and future Ming loyalist Shi Kefa, in charge of the Huai region, diverted grain there to save lives; people built him a shrine.85

79. Wang Du, “Record of Mr. Li’s Living Shrine.” 80. In most cases there was only prayer. But Taizu sent one man to deal with a drought because his name was Gan Lin: “Sweet Soaking Rain.” Gan dreamt of a spirit who told him correctly that he would find in such and such a place a stream to quench people’s thirst. He also led the yamen staff to pray, and a great rain came (1736 ZJ Zhejiang tongzhi 147/29). People thought him divine (Zhang Dafu, Kunshan renwu 3/16 [‌580‌]). 81. Snyder-Reinke, Dry Spells, 67–68, 191–92; 1732 JX Jiangxi tongzhi 13/9. 82. 1625 YN Dian zhi 11/16 (681/603). 83. 1506 NZ [‌Suzhou‌] Gusu zhi 52/46–47. Sheng Chang had held some high positions but was demoted to warden for speaking out too bluntly on some matter; when the Tianshun reign began, he was made magistrate of Luojiang. 84. 1585 HN Kaifeng fuzhi 28/56. 85. 1814 NZ Xiaoxian zhi 7/20; Wakeman, Great Enterprise, 322, 400.

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Sorting the activities that won local honors during life into these five overlapping categories allows us to consider how central and local priorities differed. First, despite general agreement that peace was better than violence, bandits were often desperate local commoners. Enshrined Raozhou prefect Tao An both organized defense against bandits and protected commoners who had followed the bandits from execution.86 When another official had dealt with local banditry by properly registering landownership, both the ordinary people (min) and the bandits claimed him as their parent, for providing security and a livelihood, and he responded: “All the settled resident subjects and all the wayward subjects—they are all my infants.”87 Some resident administrators stood up to bureaucratic pressure in protecting locals who had been driven to banditry. Second, both center and locality cared about livelihood, since agricultural production was the base of the fisc and the whole economy.88 But, to the central state, collecting taxes and requisitioning corvée ­labor was the administrator’s main job, and the key differentiation among subjects in the expanding territorial state was “between people who were ready to provide taxes and corvée duties and those who were not.”89 The Ministry of Personnel condemned incompetent and corrupt officials, commenting that, “out of pity for the harm they cause to the living people, they should not be left in office for a single day” once their crimes had been documented.90 But they were. Even those officially evaluated as violent and corrupt, and who had suffered expressions of public hatred when passing through a former jurisdiction, might only be transferred, not fired.91 To a Confucian official, personal incorruptibility and low taxation looked different—of course he should not condone bribery, but it was his job to collect tax quotas. But to locals both incorruptibility and low taxes saved money: so they honored both. 86. Mingshi 13/136/3925–26. 87. Jiang Long, “Record of the Living Shrine to Military Censor Mr. Wang Yi.” 88. Tong, Disorder under Heaven, 82–83. 89. Shin, Making of the Chinese State, 125. 90. Xu Wenjian, Libu kaogongsi tigao 3/49. 91. Xu Wenjian, Libu kaogongsi tigao 3/91, 391–92.

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Third, for locals, state power was like a natural disaster—imposed from outside, hard to control. Jia Chaohuan’s governance “made people as happy as does a sunny spring after winter”: he both ended a government system of giving wealthy households responsibilities that impoverished them and developed a famine relief technique so effective that it saved everyone and was copied by other counties. He settled lawsuits so impartially that a song called him “the bright mirror of Guangzong.” When he was promoted, people made him a shrine while he was still alive (wei sheng li ci) and worshiped (shi zhu) him.92 To ordinary people, state power—with its demands for labor, grain, textiles, and other goods; its armed might; and its violent halls of justice—could look as unpredictable and dangerous as bandits, locusts, and bad weather. To fight such things required a variety of measures. In a responsive cosmos, sacred and pragmatic efficacy converged. An epitaph reports in one line that a prefect of Yanzhou obtained permission to commute a silk tax into silver and in the next that he successfully prayed to the gods to banish a tiger who was troubling the jurisdiction.93 A H ­ ongwu-​ era magistrate of Hukou was enshrined alive for reducing taxes and effectively praying to the City God to deal with a harmful dragon.94 A retired scholar-official wrote a song for a joint Shrine to Six Magistrates of Three Dynasties (some initially enshrined before death) that praises the men in pairs rather than in chronological order. Chen of the Yuan saved refugees, and Di of the Yuan rendered fair judgments and succored the starving (after a scant harvest that “just happened” to occur on his watch—that is, it was not a cosmic response to him); in both cases approval came from the central government. Wu of the Jin kept out locusts, and Lei of the Ming kept out bandits; approval came as the people’s prosperity and Heaven’s immediate response to Wu’s prayers for rain. Chu’s work on gentry education led to examination success, 92. But he did not enter the Shrine to Eminent Officials. 1598+1663 BZ Guangzong xianzhi, 116–17, 70. A local man, Li Shangbin, who earned a living shrine in his jurisdiction of service, did enter the Shrine to Local Worthies in Guangzong (p. 157). 93. Wang Zhi, “Tomb Inscription for Shandong Left Provincial Administration Commissioner Mr. Wan [‌Guan‌].” 94. Cao Sixuan, Xiuning ming zu zhi, 127.

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whereas Zhang’s term brought three years of recitation and song.95 In all these cases, both the effective actions and the responses to them conjoin the natural, human, and supernatural realms.

The Parental Metaphor At its best, carrying out such tasks, late imperial governance has been seen as top-down “paternalism.” Paternalism was justified by Confucian ideology and governmentality as they had developed over the long term. But the precise shape it took was not unilaterally determined by central institutions or decrees, nor by the religious imperatives of conscience of individual Neo-Confucian officials. As we have just seen, local and central priorities differed, and locals played a role in painting the picture of what counted as good governance. Locals honored some officials for one specific contribution, others for a whole panoply. Such tasks required charisma to influence locals, yamen staff, the higher bureaucracy, and spirits. Yet it was the contributions, not the exemplary self as such, that locals honored with shrines or (as they often said) repaid (bao), and they cared most about security and livelihood. We may call this style of governing “paternalist,” but Ming people called such officials “father-and-mother” (fumu): parents. The metaphor had long classical roots but rarely appears in central sources; even Taizu preferred metaphors of animal management.96 The parental metaphor was propelled to the center of consciousness from below, not by the court. One Guangchang magistrate was said to have “cherished the people as if he were protecting infants”; for another, “the people yearned like youngsters with no one to rely on.”97 Local subjects selected which officials to adopt, and they focused on mutual emotion and parental 95. For the history of one of these shrines, see Schneewind, “Beyond Flattery.” The song is in 1935 SD Linqu xuzhi 5/15 (721); the gazetteerist notes the faulty chronology to cast doubt on the authenticity of the song, wrongly I think, for the logic of the grouping is clear. For Chi’s retirement, 1884 SD Linqu xianzhi 14.1/29a. 96. Ming Taizu spoke of resident administrators as “teaching officials” and “shepherds of the people.” Yu Jideng, Huangming diangu jiwen 5/8 (261). 97. 1630 SX Guangchang xianzhi, 581, 584, 586–87, 589.

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responsibility. Two sequential gazetteer entries report of one local man who served elsewhere that “the people regarded him as virtuous, like a parent” (min de zhi ru fumu) and of another that he “loved the people like sons/children” (ai min ru zi).98 Magistrate Xue “loved the common people (baixing) like children, and the common people loved him like a parent.”99 And “The gentry and commoners of Hezhou today still cry out saying Mr. Chen was a broad and great leader and also call him ‘True Father and Mother.’”100 Over and over we read: “The people (min) loved and respected him like a parent.”101 The parental metaphor was useful because it was so obviously wrong. It attempted to bridge a vast gap. Parents are permanent. Magistrates normally held office for nine years in the fifteenth century, with a few twenty-five-year terms; later the norm dropped to three years or less.102 To call a magistrate a parent was a rhetorical act. What was the purpose? Lien-sheng Yang’s study of bao, “reciprocation” or “recompense,” points out the dual nature of family ideology. On the one hand, Confucianism required absolute filial obedience with the saying “There are no wrong-doing parents in the world.” Yet there was also the view that parents deserved filial care “on a strict business basis” because of the care they gave children: a quid pro quo relation at the heart of the family, covered up with sentiment.103 To call the greatest authority ­figure in a county “father-and-mother” was to attempt to affect his feelings and awaken his conscience. Both the parental metaphor and “parentalism” as a style of governing were demanded and shaped by the locality below rather than imposed by the court and central bureaucracy above.104 98. 1575 NZ Hezhou zhi, 534. 99. Zhao Xingbang and Zhi Sui, “Stele Record of the Virtuous Governing of Mr. Xue [‌Zhen‌].” For another example, see 1593/97 NZ Shangyuan xianzhi 7/12. 100. NZ 1575 Hezhou zhi, 411–16. This gazetteer offers many formulations of remembrance. 101. 1692 SD Ji’nan fuzhi 41/9b. 102. Nimick, Local Administration, 45–46. 103. Lien-sheng Yang, “Concept of Pao,” 302, 308. 104. In Solinger’s terms, this parentalism is both rights/rites based and responsive. Solinger correctly stresses that “Confucian” values do not in themselves determine concrete policy or even its motivation. “Three Welfare Models,” 979–80.

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Better than honoring and remembering a parental official would be keeping him. Premortem steles and shrines had appeared in Song law as appendages to a law on petitions to retain an official in his post.105 In Ming times, when terms were short, locals may have resented losing an administrator whatever his faults just when they had begun to get used to him or to train him in local ways. Shrines usually followed the failure of retention requests or came at the end of an extended term. As many cases in all kinds of sources show, hundreds of residents of a county or prefecture would travel to the provincial office or the capital to request to retain their administrator in the face of a transfer or retirement.106 Government student He Cheng was made magistrate of Hong County in 1436 and “cherished the subofficials and people as if they were younger brothers”; when his nine-year term was up, three hundred people petitioned to retain him.107 Two separate delegations from Shaanxi went to Beijing to petition to retain Xiang Zhong right about the same time locals enshrined him.108 Numbers were surely exaggerated, yet late Ming historian Zhu Guozhen says of retention petitions by several tens of thousands of people: “This is something I have seen with my own eyes!”109 When petition failed, there was prayer: “Let Mr. Xue come again to be our father and mother!”110 When prayer failed . . . could a living shrine retain a parental administrator—one who had attended to people’s livelihood and security through worldly and spiritual work—through other means?

105. Chen Wenyi, “Cong chaoting dao difang,” 59–61: retention requests far outnumbered both steles and shrines after early Song. 106. See Schneewind, “Reduce, Re-use, Recycle,” 147–48 for discussion of Mingshi j. 281, which records many such requests in early Ming times. 107. CH/1488 NZ Zhongdu zhi 2/6/51. 108. DMB, 534–38, and 1596 ZJ Xiushui xianzhi 6/67 (288–89) for the retention requests; for the shrine, Mingshi 16/178/4728 and Ming Xiaozong shilu 59/190/3508–10 for Hongzhi 15.8 gengxu (Sept. 11, 1502). 109. Zhu Guozhen, Yongzhuang xiaopin 13/5. For an extended retention campaign, in which the higher-ups claimed that as magistrate Wang was only a bureaucrat, but if transferred up he could be a parent, see 1658 SX Gaoping xianzhi 10/54–58 (614–22). 110. Mingshi 13/138/3973; Huang Jin, “Biography of Xue Xiang.”

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hen Prefect Gong Mian was about to leave Jiaxing, several thousand people from gentry and scholars on down to clerks and commoners walked to the provincial governor’s office to beg to keep him; in response his rank was raised and his term extended by two years. The next time he was promoted, they tried again but only got a scolding: “This gentleman is a talent of the whole world! How can you greedily wish to keep him in one locality?”1 When some locals failed to get a glimpse of Gong as he traveled through Jiaxing, they regretted it and asked again, “How shall we get a second Mr. [‌Gong‌] to personally protect and shelter us?” They answer themselves: “Set up an image and enshrine it in order to convey our morning and evening longings.”2 But how can the shrine, they ask, substitute for him in governance? An unnamed person—probably the author of the record, devout Buddhist Lu Guangzu—comforts them and pushes them toward compassion for others, saying that, although the whole world looks up to Gong as sprouts look up for rain, even if there were a hundred of him, he could not disperse over the whole world. But later he will be given command 1. Lu Guangzu, “Stele Record of the Living Shrine to Prefect Gong [‌M ian‌].” Another locality was more generous in a similar situation: “Thinking of His Honor: in our pure dreams he sometimes comes on travels; if he does not come, well, he is supporting the emperor with his counsel.” Poem in Guo Xi, “Record of the New-Built Living Shrine to [‌Former Prefect‌] Mr. Heyang Chen [‌Zu‌].” 2. Lu Guangzu, “Stele Record of the Living Shrine to Prefect Gong [‌Mian‌].”

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over all the nine ranks and three affairs, and then how greatly will he be able to protect creatures! And how gloriously will he be praised for helping others!—a glory in which Jiaxing will share. “Having a shining image set up between columns is not only so that His Honor’s spirit can travel locally; His Honor’s shrines will spread to the whole empire.”3 Lu may be referring to later high office or to posthumous apotheosis. Given the dramatic clash of gentry and popular interests in this prefecture in particular, it is tempting to read Lu’s assurance as a kind of opiate of the people. They asked a political question, and he gave them a religious answer, promising pie in the sky. But Lu leaves no doubt that the living shrine allows Gong’s spirit to “travel locally,” now or after his death. Once an enshrined official was dead, his spirit could enter the economy of worship Valerie Hansen has described. This economy included the spirits housed in temples and shrines in every city and village, from the abandoned dead needing propitiation (hungry ghosts) to snake spirits and local deities of various kinds, from Confucius and Laozi to the bodhisattva Guanyin. People offered devotion, made offerings to reciprocate the spirits’ contributions, and prayed for help with flood, drought, locusts, bandits, childbirth, and livelihood issues including commerce. If a prayer went unanswered, the petitioner would try another temple. If a spirit answered the prayers, the devotee would come back with further donations, so the cult of an effective deity would grow, his titles would lengthen, his temple would become larger and more beautiful, and his reputation would grow. This gave him more power to do more miracles, and so the cycle continued, until he began to fail. This spiritual efficacy, ling, is a social product like reputation.4 Successful temples with powerful gods were bustling places, especially during their annual celebrations of the god’s birthday. Fairs selling all kinds of goods were held in the open space of a large temple, a natural gathering spot. Large numbers of people might join in making small donations to raise or renovate the temple and its appurtenances. Steles set up at the temple to record the names of donors and publicize miraculous responses often included conversations and drew on the

3. Lu Guangzu, “Stele Record of the Living Shrine to Prefect Gong [‌Mian‌].” 4. Hansen, Changing Gods, 61; Chau, “Miraculous Response.”

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words of local elders, whose testimony, Hansen explains, “guarantee[‌d‌] the reliability of the account” so that, through written rephrasing into classical Chinese by a literatus, “in some cases the illiterate were able to make their voices heard.” The connection could be very personal: One Guanyin image healed a woman’s arm when the woman had artisans repair the arm of the image. As Hansen sums it up, “People pray to gods to get things done, and they judge gods on the basis of their ability to perform miracles.”5 Living shrines looked much like these deity shrines. Indeed one Ming writer called living shrines the origin of “shrine” (ci) worship of deities.6 When Li Bangzhi left office, locals incorporated him into Dongzhou by building a shrine. “Looking back and thinking of him, but not seeing him, they then all longed for him. Longing for him and not reaching him, then they modeled his image and settled it in a building. It was almost like seeing his face; it was almost like hearing his voice.”7 Living shrines, Zhan Ruoshui explains, “continue the nourishing” carried out by a parental official. But how? A poem by Wang Xiang­chun juxtaposing the reliance of foolish women on the Black Tiger Spring god for healing with the shrines in Jinan city indicted the enshrined officials—“fiercer than tigers” in their oppressive government, as Confucius says in the Record of Rites—for not doing something practical about illness. Wang did not recommend praying at the living shrines instead.8 Would that have been nonsensical? Could living shrines be efficacious? This chapter will show that shrines created a continuing spiritual connection after death in the minds of gentry as well as local commoners. Premortem shrines may have been preemptive bids on the loyalty of a man likely to be useful after death. They promised him posthumous care and hoped for posthumous miracles. Further, there is no reason that Ming people could not have thought that a shrine could be efficacious before death, despite post-imperial scholarly qualms about 5. Hansen, Changing Gods, 13–15, 21–23, 35–38, 52, 54, 65, 77, 46. 6. Gu Qiyuan, Ke zuo zhui yu, 1196. 7. Zhan Ruoshui, “Record of the Living Shrine to Jixi Magistrate Mr. Li [‌formerly Magistrate of‌] Dongzhou.” 8. Wang Xiangchun, “Black Tiger Spring,” in his Qi yin.

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worship as opposed to honor. To break down the concept of worship, I will answer several precise questions raised about premortem shrines posed by a twentieth-century Chinese historian, Zhu Weizheng, and address how social class figured into debates on offerings. Although miracles were possible, and even attested in some cases, spiritual efficacy cannot completely account for living shrines. Instead, shrines may have embodied a political theory that stands on its head the sinological understanding of popular religion’s “bureaucratic metaphor.”

Reciprocity in the Afterlife Most people visited the yamen only if they stood accused of a crime or had an intractable dispute with a neighbor. Popular culture imagined the magistrate sitting in his court, raised above others like the much-portrayed kings of hell curtly demanding answers while one knelt before him or ordering lictors to administer terrible beatings. Gentler magistrates, we are told, earned admiration. Such a one was a magistrate of Rui’an, Wang Zuochang, so closely associated with the jurisdiction that he was known as “Rui’an Wang.” Through his own sincerity and thoughtful questioning, he expertly worked on people’s consciences to clarify the facts in court cases. When he beat people, it was only three or five or at most ten strokes. Wang died after only four months in office; people mourned and wept “as if they had lost a father or mother through death” and held no market for seven days. Because he had died penniless, several elders set up a square box at the crossroads for voluntary contributions; in a few days the box was full of several hundred copper cash to prepare his corpse for burial. He was entered into the Shrine to Eminent Officials, but “the common people” (baixing) also built a shrine to worship him, “serving him as if he were alive.” Even dead, he continued his judicial work, moving a petty criminal to confess. 9 A posthumous shrine enabled a locality to retain an

9. Zheng Zhongkui, Yu zhu xin tan 3/3–4. The 1736 ZJ Zhejiang tongzhi (156/52) con­firms that he served in Rui’an from 1612 and died there. A dead official (remem­ bered, but not a kinsman) was perhaps dangerous, requiring pacification. Sangren, History and Magical Power¸ 217.

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official long-term. And a premortem shrine that lasted would become posthumous. Efficacious temples meant both spiritual aid and bustling fairs, and living shrines may have represented a bet on postmortem efficacy or even a test run.10 Ho Shu-yi shows that many of Jiaxing Prefecture’s premortem shrines were placed at Buddhist and Daoist temples. But the implication is not that they were affiliated with those religions, for both the temples and the remaining shrines were located along the Grand Canal or other major transportation routes; the point was for the shrine to get traffic.11 Indirect evidence for efficacy comes in the competition to host premortem shrines. One Lu Jiujing of a county’s east village disputed with the south, north, and west villages over the right to build a shrine for Magistrate Xu. Lu had prepared wood and stone, but people from the other three villages argued: “He was our virtuous parent [‌too‌]. Why keep us from enshrining him? Who does not want to enshrine him? Why keep the shrine all to your village and keep the expenses all to your lineage?” Other villages in the county heard the dispute and said: “He was [‌a lso‌] our virtuous parent. You four villages cannot keep the shrine all to yourself, and the Lu family, in particular, should not keep the expenditure all to themselves.” The old and the young all went to court and presented their arguments. Finally, they built the shrine in the middle of the county, but Lu Jiujing insisted on using his own wood and stone, while the other villages, unable to prevail in that, contributed labor or competed to feed the workers.12 Even if the shrine did not answer prayers before the enshrinee’s death, it might do so eventually. Ming people knew the bet could pan out: a living shrine to a Tang official had won a long divine title from the Song and Yuan courts for his spiritual efficacy, which continued into the seventeenth century.13 Locals could retain a good administrator by preparing a home for him to return to after death. Seventeenth-century theorist Huang 10. Thomas Wilson suggested this in personal communication, Nov. 17, 2007. 11. Ho Shu-yi, “Wan Ming de difangguan shengci,” 819, 823–28. 12. Wang Shenzhong, “Record of the Living Shrine to Yongding County Magistrate Mr. Xu [‌Wenxian‌]”; DMB, 1398. 13. 1586+1650 ZJ Chongxiu Shouchang xianzhi 9/12b (366).

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Zongxi argued that, whereas ordinary spirits might dissipate after death, the spirits of sages and worthies lingered on, preventing disasters for the people.14 Robert Hymes shows that, although some people conceived of gods as bureaucrats subject to supervision and transfer, others saw them as personal patrons one could deal with directly and who stayed put: more like feudal lords than officials.15 A dead former magistrate retained in a shrine, therefore, might not be merely kept on, but actually transferred out of the imperial bureaucracy into a permanent position more answerable to the local side. Local people could enfeoff a magistrate as a hard-working lord. What did the official stand to gain? If Ming officials shared their Song predecessors’ aversion to serving as judges in purgatory, enshrinement offered a reassuring possibility of continuing to work in one community.16 James Robson has discussed how people’s worries that descendants’ ritual care after death would not suffice led them to perform premortem Buddhist or Daoist rites on their own behalf.17 As the story of Zhu Yi’s request to be buried in his former jurisdiction, recounted in chapter 2, reminded people, the public might be more reliable than one’s sons. The tale of the death of Magistrate Xu Jiusi shows that a former official’s spirit might visit or inhabit a premortem shrine after death, as well as his tomb, the ancestral tablet on a home altar, the netherworld, the lineage ancestral hall, a new incarnation’s body, a City God temple, and other places. Xu Jiusi had worked hard for the Jurong people for nine years. “Every family made an image to personate (shi) him, always praying (zhu) to it morning and evening.” They also built four or five shrines, the largest on nearby Mt. Mao, a Daoist center—in remembrance of how he had saved them from the onerous requirement that they supply imperial sacrifices there. There Jurong people celebrated his birthday by holding a mass of some kind and also checked in at other times. At eighty-five years old, in retirement at home one day, Xu showed slight 14. Wilson, “Spirits and the Soul,” 198–99. 15. Hymes, Way and Byway, 4–5, 188, 196–97, 211, 254–55. 16. Hsien-huei Liao, “Visualizing the Afterlife,” 399–440. 17. A high-profile monk of late Ming times, Yunqi Zhuhong, argued against such practices for gentry. Robson, “Searching for a Better Return,” 73, 102; on life and death as a continuum, see pp. 72–74.

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signs of illness. He refused treatment and did not improve. He said, “I have had a proper mandate/fate/lifespan” (you zheng ming). Lying in bed, he clasped his hands and said, “Mt. Mao has come to invite me!” By the time a family member had galloped to Mt. Mao to report the illness to the god of the mountain, Xu had already closed his eyes in death.18 That night the Daoist in charge of the shrine on Mt. Mao dreamed that Xu opened the door and entered the shrine, dressed in crimson and followed by several mounted attendants.19 A living shrine, like a well-planned coffin and tomb, would be waiting for a parental official when he died.

Worship or Honor? Post-imperial historians of China accept as real posthumous worship of humans. But they often find ways around accepting the existence of worship of live men. They prefer the term “honor.”20 Or they explain that prayers called down blessings upon the enshrinee, which some sources clearly attest.21 Zhao Kesheng gives Ming examples in which locals “worshiped (bai) at set times, also praying and asking that His Honor [‌enjoy‌] good fortune, rank, and salary without limit.” Zhao comments that, “from a basic point of view, what the prayers express

18. Geng Dingxiang, Xian jin yi feng 21/2/39 (654); Xu Kairen, Ming ming chen yan xing lu 52/40/21 (46). The source calls the ceremony jiao. Originally a Daoist ceremony, a jiao had become a “standard vehicle” for worshiping gods generally by Song times. Hymes, “A Jiao Is a Jiao,” 132. 19. Guo Tingxun, Benchao fensheng renwu kao 60/35 (135–508). 20. For instance, DMB reports for Mao Kun that “a shrine was erected in his honor” (1043), although the Mingshi 24/287/7374 uses the term si, to make offerings to or to worship. See also DMB, 869, 1006, 1114, and 1421. (Mao also wrote several living shrine records.) 21. Chang, Wang Shou-jen, 27 and note 16; Naquin, Peking, 166. For “longevity temples,” to pray for benefits for the enshrinee, see Ho Shu-yi, “Wan Ming de difangguan shengci,” 819–20. “The border people, thinking [‌Sun An‌] virtuous, erected for him a living shrine; at fixed times of year they pray for [‌his‌] long life”; 1561 BZ Xuanfu zhen zhi 34/63 (414), but the identical sentence appears in the succeeding 1712 BZ Longmen xianzhi 10/5 when he was dead.

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is still the meaning of grateful reciprocation.”22 Scholarly dichotomies sometimes exclude premortem worship as a possibility, as for instance when Romeyn Taylor notes Confucian views that open-air altars were appropriate to celestial and terrestrial spirits like stars and streams, whereas “only the spirits of deceased humans might be properly housed in roofed temples.”23 Scholars working on sacred images have also ­assumed that the subjects were dead, so that sacrificial offerings could bring into one’s presence “what was distant and unknowable.”24 Distant: dead?—or three thousand miles away? The mere words the sources use do not clearly distinguish secular “honor” from religious “worship.” Wang Shenzhong writes that locals “drew the prefect’s face to honor and worship (zun si) in [‌the shrine‌].”25 In the Zhengtong period, when Huguang Governor Cai Xi saved every­ one from a big famine, “ten thousand households drew his likeness and prayed to/for/at it/him” (wan jia xiao xiang zhu zhi).26 Over and over we read that people shizhu er zudou, or variations on this phrase, which all refer to what is normally done in a shrine or temple: making offerings before an image or spirit tablet, prayer, and congratulation.27 These words alone cannot tell us about people’s mental disposition, whether they prayed to or for the enshrinee, whether he took in offerings, or even whether petitions were made and answered. Religious studies scholars, in contrast to many historians, tend to assume that a shrine will mean worship—the exchange of offerings for 22. Zhao Kesheng, “Mingdai shengci,” 127. There he also mentions the Shanghai shrine to Magistrate Xu built by Huizhou merchants, who summoned Buddhist monks to chant sutras to pray for blessings for the magistrate. 23. Taylor, “Official Religion,” 846. Rob Weller notes that outside worship by Ming times was only for the highest and lowest spirits: Heaven and ghosts. Everyone else had a roof, even ghosts just winning promotion into the pantheon (but they did not get a door). Personal communication, Feb. 12, 2010. Yang Jizong received outside worship while alive, distressing some educated men, as chapter 6 discusses. 24. Sommer, “Destroying Confucius,” 97–98. 25. Wang Shenzhong, “Record of the Living Shrine to [‌Former‌] Quzhou Prefect Mr. Li [‌Sui‌] Kezhai.” 26. Zhang Ying, Yuding yuanjian leihan 108/34. Cai was already enshrined in Quanzhou for repairing a bridge. 27. For the phrase shizhu er zudou, see also Schneewind, “Can Peculiar Yuan Living Shrines.” In fact, ci (“shrine” or “enshrine”) can also mean “to make offerings to.”

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miraculous aid—whether the occupant is alive or dead.28 Historian Zhu Weizheng shares this assumption but asks in perplexity: In erecting a shrine for a living person, is not one treating that person as half human and half divine? Is not one assuming that the two selves can be separated before death, so the spirit directs the body, regulating eating, drinking, defecating, and all biological functions as well as matters relating to one’s reputation and position, and at the same time leaves the body and moves about investigating and judging people’s requests? It is already strange enough to imagine normal human beings having a personality split in this way, with the body in one place and the spirit in another, and people praying to a tablet with their name on it or a statue looking like them in the belief that they can distinguish truth from error, send blessings, and ward off harm.29

Strange? Is a shrine to a living person so much stranger than thinking that a dead person can respond from tablet, tomb, hell, paradise, and/ or new body? In Zhu Weizheng’s own lifetime, images of the living Chairman Mao did miracles while he was busy elsewhere.30 The historian’s question is whether such apparently logical problems bothered Ming people. I will address Zhu’s questions in turn.

“Half Human and Half Divine”? First, the line between the human and the divine was blurry and traversable in Ming times. Humans could gain godlike powers, and gods were given humanlike histories. Secular and sacred efficacy appear side by side in the sources, and locals honored wise, clever, or effective men with the label “divine” (shen). Jiaxing people sang for their prefect: “Divine lord, divine lord” (shen jun).31 As with the Japanese term kami, written shen (J. shin), such verbal divinization could imply spiritual 28. Poo, In Search of Personal Welfare, 196, 212; C. K. Yang, Religion in Chinese Society, 161–62; Lei Wen, Jiaomiao zhi wai, 235. 29. Zhu, Coming out of the Middle Ages, 58. 30. Urban, Miracles of Chairman Mao. 31. Lu Guangzu, “Stele Record of the Living Shrine to Prefect Gong [‌Mian‌].”

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power or merely express awe.32 Similes could be more direct. People talked about how Gao Song, a tribute student, as magistrate of Nankang settled lawsuits “like a deity”33 and of how Zhang Jun, magistrate of large and populous Deqing County, having once met a gentryman or commoner, could always remember his name and surname: “People said that his comprehensive oversight was like that of a deity.”34 Fighting pirates, Liu Jingshao employed troops “like a deity.”35 Zichuan Magistrate Shen Qi earned a reputation for “divine eyes.”36 When Lin Pei prayed to a god for help catching some murderous bandits, a flock of butterflies landed on each of their hiding places; this startling event was “considered divine.”37 Sometimes divinization is linked with offerings: in the Chongzhen era, Chen Zhengzhong died in office; “on the day he died, the people all took him to be divine, and until today they strictly serve him [‌with offerings‌].”38 Shen need not mean literally holding divine abilities, but it shaded into that meaning. Some officials indeed had powerful spirits. Temples and their occupants who answered prayers are considered “efficacious” (ling). Like many scholars, Steven Sangren draws lines between human de and spirit ling in ways that leave no room for live human spirits to intervene in human life.39 But recently, religious studies scholars have questioned the distinction between de and ling.40 Some Ming thinking did distinguish live human de and related terms from spirits’ ling, but not all. Taizu spoke of the ling of living generals and the de of gods.41 Early Ming ritual scholar Song Na, in a passage

32. Katō, Honpō seishi no kenkyū, appendix 1, p. 7, uses the term “anthropolatry” to include “worship of a living human god.” 33. 1561 BZ Xuanfu zhenzhi 36/2. 34. Wang Zhi, Chongbian Wang Wenduan gong wenji 33/5b. See also 36/6b for a shen murder mystery solution. 35. 1633 NZ Taizhou zhi 4/22. Liu was enshrined alive in at least two places. 36. 1692 SD Ji’nan fuzhi 25/64. 37. Yao Zhiyin, Yuan Ming shi lei chao 40/5. 38. 1684 FJ Fujian tongzhi 32/14. 39. Sangren, History and Magical Power, 144–46, 217. 40. Sutton, “Prefect Feng,” 39–40. See also discussion in Snyder-Reinke, Dry Spells, 117, 182–85. 41. Taylor, “Ming T’ai-Tsu,” 40, 41.

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insisting on the difference between spirits and humans, speaks of the de of the “myriad spirits” of the empire.42 David Nivison argued that de, “to obtain,” as in the phrase I translate “to win people over” (de min), and de meaning “virtue” are related. The exercise of de virtue toward another person compels him to respond and thus constitutes a kind of power.43 This was not just verbal play, because words associated with Confucianism and concepts of efficacy mingle elsewhere; for instance, when a prefect prayed at a very old temple, “his benevolence (ren) reached Heaven” and brought rain.44 The line between spiritual and secular power was analytically blurred. The borders between life and death, between the bright and dark worlds, could be traversed. Magistrates not only cooperated with City Gods but often became City Gods after death. Historian of religion Paul Katz shows administrators crossing and recrossing from the world into hell: judging cases in the netherworld by night and in county courts by day.45 A Ming description of a temple to former humans fails to specify whether the central “king” figure, a Daoist of Han times, was dead or alive when his shrine was built and he began to do miracles. Of the two others it comments, “The two gentlemen while alive comforted the people, while dead supported the country.”46 This is not a distinction but an equation. A Ming record equates the work of the City God and the magistrate to argue that a living shrine to the magistrate would be perfectly proper.47 Liu Tianhe was a model Confucian official and military strategist who after death became a City God and therefore the master of local unsettled spirits deployed through the

42. Sommer, “Destroying Confucius,” 95–133, 111. 43. Nivison, Ways of Confucianism, 33. 44. Tian Rucheng, Xihu youlan zhi 2/20. 45. Katz, Divine Justice, 55–57. Most of Katz’s late imperial evidence comes from Qing, but he cites a late Ming collection of legal judgments saying that gods and ghosts had a role to play in earthly justice. For other Ming era tales of officials working with spirits for justice, see pp. 98, 99. 46. Zheng Zhongkui, Yu zhu xin tan 3/4 (518). 47. Record of a City God temple restoration, 1515+1541 BZ Changyuan xianzhi xia/9/50–51. On City Gods as magistrates’ partners, see Zito, “City Gods,” 334–35, 358; see also Taylor, “Official Religion,” 844, 879–81; Goossaert, “Officials and Local Society.”

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Daoist hierarchy as demon soldiers.48 When Liu was enshrined while still alive, did he partake not at all of that kind of power? When locals walked by and saw a placard over the gate or door of a shrine reading “Liu Gong shengci,” would they not think of all the other shrines to “lords” (gong) who were already gods? To answer Zhu Weizheng’s first question on treating a person as half human and half divine, a man effective enough to have earned a shrine was indeed half divine.

“Who Is Going to Enjoy the Offerings?” Zhu Weizheng’s second question was also raised by one imperial-era writer. Cheng Dachang (1123–95), a well-known Song official from Huizhou, wrote: To erect a shrine to someone who is still alive: this seems meaningless. When a person has already died, he needs a temple established so he can accept and enjoy sacrificial offerings. But, in this instance, someone is still alive when a temple is built. Who is going to enjoy [‌t he offerings‌]? 生而立祠，此似無謂也。人已死乃須立廟而血食。今也，生而立廟，誰 當享之？49

This is a seemingly logical objection: there was no spirit to receive offerings in a living shrine. But the objection was applied, in Ming times, only to worship by officials in government-approved shrines.50 A lone 48. Meulenbeld, “Dancing with the Gods,” 156; Taylor, “Spirits of the Penumbra.” For more on Liu Tianhe, see chapter 9. 49. Cheng Dachang, Yan fan lu 5/6–7. See also Osabe, “Shina seishi shoko,” 44–45. The aunt of Han usurper Wang Mang had different objections (Brashier, Ancestral Memory, 142). 50. For Cheng Dachang’s view, see Schneewind, “Beyond Flattery,” 348; and Ho Shu-yi, “Wan Ming de difangguan shengci,” 822. Ho also cites Liu Hsiang-Kwang, “Mingdai Huizhou minghuan ci,” on a refusal to permit enshrinement because the person (Mao Kun) was still alive. But the request was for entry into a Shrine to Eminent Officials. Mao Kun had been enshrined on departure from Dantu fifty years earlier. He had been returned to the rank of commoner, and that, too, might have kept him out of the Shrine to Eminent Officials. See the biographical texts at the end of Mao Kun, Mao Lumen xiansheng wenji, 230–31.

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Ming religious objection to living worship came from departing subprefect Li Xuanyou: “To enshrine me here [‌or make offerings to me here‌] before the announcement of my death 不穀在是而祠 would be to confuse the positions of spirits and humans and to corrupt the great rites.”51 Li does not explain further. Perhaps he feared being prayed to as if dead, which some considered dangerous.52 Rituals in Song Shrines to Former Worthies aimed to inspire gentry to emulate the enshrinee, but a spirit did take in the offerings. In stating that, Ellen Neskar does not except those enshrined alive, usually prefects completing a term in office.53 Thomas Wilson explains that Confucian discourse including the commentaries of Zhu Xi—which were required reading in Ming times—fought the tendency to consider the dead as Other, a tendency that led to neglect. One should exhaustively revere living parents and rulers, and transfer the same feeling to worship ceremonies, Zhu Xi argued: “Death and life, man and ghost: the two are in fact one and the same.”54 If one is already serving the dead “as if they were living,” as in Rui’an Wang’s posthumous shrine, why not sacrifice to the living as if they were living? There is some direct evidence that enshrined men took in offerings. When the shrine statue of former Kaizhou magistrate Wang Qi was repaired twenty years after his departure, a sore on the corresponding part of his body immediately healed.55 Recall Wang Dao’s account in the Introduction of how wine offered to the image of a Song official made the man tipsy. Wang Dao also argued that offerings in Chen Ru’s 51. Han Kuang, “Record of the Virtuous Governance of Mr. Li [‌Xuanyou‌],” 563. 52. See van Gulik, Crime and Punishment, 110–11, for harm done a person through his image or stele; Blake, “Lampooning the Paper Money Custom,” 461. Lirenheqiu, Mindu bieji, chapters 114–15, esp. p. 423: an enshrinee hurls his own image to the ground and stomps it into bits, accusing the locals of returning evil for good by making the image and thus bringing him ill health and misfortune. Against the potential objection that shrines were unlucky because they were for dead people—one I found in no other Ming source—we can also set the widespread filial practice of preparing a parent’s coffin and tomb before death as well as the fact that emperors and Wei Zhongxian built their own tombs. 53. Neskar, “Cult of Worthies,” 14, 206, and 189–90, citing Zhu Xi, Zhuzi daquan 86:1b. 54. Wilson, “Spirits and the Soul,” 190–91. 55. DMB, 1356.

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living shrine would not just reach him once, but would benefit even his descendants.56 Shrine sponsors demanded accuracy: “what was not quite like [‌the official‌] they told the craftsman to change; and, when the likeness was achieved, they happily knelt around it.”57 If it did not look like him, another spirit might take in the offerings.58 That living enshrinees could take in offerings seems perfectly reasonable in Ming terms, but there is only a little clear-cut evidence for it. It may have been too obvious to state, or not significant, or, like so many questions in Chinese religion, open to doubt and debate.59 As Hymes has put it, “One might gather that gods were everywhere . . . [‌but‌] doubt was everywhere too.”60 Ken Brashier has argued that doubt makes sense, given human experiences and the limits of knowledge.61 There is not enough evidence to know how many Ming people thought enshrined living people might take in offerings. Nor is there much evidence, turning to another of Zhu Weizheng’s questions, about whether enshrined living people could respond to prayers.

Shrines without Steles If enshrinement was mainly a replacement for retaining a man in office, it would have been most satisfactory if he could respond to prayers with miracles right away. Indirect evidence—the existence of large numbers of shrines with no stele—may mean that shrines did something besides 56. Wang Dao, “Record of the Living Shrine to [‌Dongchang‌] Prefect Mr. Chen [‌Ru‌],” 8/39b. 57. Chen Rang, “Stele for the Premortem Shrine to Nan’an Magistrate Tang [‌Ai‌].” (See also Schneewind, “Beyond Flattery,” 349.) 58. Sommer, “Destroying Confucius,” 122. In posthumous Song shrines, likenesses were copied from ancestral portraits (Neskar, “Cult of Worthies,” 29–31). For a Buddhist who made his own image out of wicker to prevent worship reaching the wrong being, see Shahar, Shaolin Monastery, 88. 59. Jordan, Gods, Ghosts, and Ancestors, 39; Seaman, Temple Organization; Weller, Resistance, Chaos and Control, 5–7. For some basic principles, see Cohen, “Souls and Salvation”; Menegon, Ancestors, Virgins, and Friars, 267. 60. Hymes, Way and Byway, 12. 61. Brashier, Ancestral Memory, esp. 185, 137, 207; for the medieval period, Bokencamp, Ancestors and Anxiety, esp. 38–80. For action by angry spirits of the living in Hei’an Japan, see Hori, Folk Religion, 43, 71–72.

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give ritual weight to engraved words. Many biographies and gazetteers mention shrines with no apparent or extant shrine record, and some of them lasted for decades. As Hansen argues for deity shrines, “the very absence of written materials . . . testifies to the participation of the illiterate.”62 Scholars assume that the participation of the illiterate meant that shrines were about worship rather than politics.63 A lengthy shrine record by Yang Bi reveals several shrines without steles. Lin Dafu received offerings at four or five places in Shangyuan County, including at three preexisting shrines. In Danyang district, at Tuqiao town, people made offerings to Lin Dafu as a correlate of former magistrate Cheng Jie, who came in 1537 to Shangyuan as one post in a long career. Cheng was a typical high Ming activist who rescued people from wrongful imprisonment, apparently for encroaching on Taizu’s tomb lands, and saved the Shangyuan people money. His tomb inscription comments: “Every place he left, there was always some legacy of commendation: thoughts carved onto stone, worship (shizhu) at home, or offerings in the [‌Shrine to‌] Eminent ­Officials.”64 But the gazetteer that lauds Cheng records no shrine or stele.65 Cheng Jie’s shrine appears in the written record only when Lin Dafu joins it in 1580, after almost four decades. Similarly, in Ciren district, the people enshrined Lin Dafu with Wang Zongyi, a Yingtian prefect of about 1570, making joint offerings to the two at Swallow Rock. The gazetteer places the shrine to Wang outside the Guanyin gate at Swallow Rock and calls it “Grace-Soaking Shrine.”66 The listing adds that the shrine honored three men—Wang, Lin, and Assistant Prefect Lei Jigu—without saying anything more about its 62. Hansen, Changing Gods, 13. 63. Liu Shengjun, “Tangdai ‘shengci libei,’” 487; Chen Wenyi, “Cong chaoting dao difang,” 90–91. 64. Jiao Hong, Guochao xianzheng lu 140/18–20. 65. He is lauded for saving the Shangyuan people money and using redemption money to repair a washed-out stretch of road between Shangyuan and Jurong (1593/1597 NZ Shangyuan xianzhi 7/12). Cheng also erected a community school in Zhenyuan, Guizhou (1555 GZ Guizhou tongzhi 6/20). 66. This is not the shrine to Lin Dafu that Lu Bi commemorated, which was on the other side of town, outside the south gate.

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incarnation before Lin was added.67 In Quanshui district Lin received joint offerings with Wang Zongyi at Sangang village—in a shrine not otherwise listed. The Changning district people enshrined Lin alone at Qixia Hill—in a shrine mentioned only in this later record. All these were in addition to the shrine that Yang Bi was actually commemorating, at Green Dragon Hill.68 The people sponsoring and building these other shrines apparently needed no stele. Had it not been for the later incorporation of Lin Dafu and his stele, we would not know of the other shrines. Shrines without steles that described the man being honored and those who honored him require explanation. C. K. Yang, arguing against Max Weber and Cornell-educated rationalist Hu Shi, pointed out that “temples and sacrifices represented a heavy item of public expenditure [‌and‌] . . . cannot be convincingly dismissed as either empty formalities or as cultural vestiges.”69 A stele records explicitly a man’s achievements and his local reputation, offering him textual immortality. Compared to an inscribed stone alone, a new shrine required a greater commitment of land, labor, materials, personnel, and offerings, lending weight to engraved words as a public space for remembrance and instruction. But a shrine without a stele must have had an additional rationale to justify the expense over the years. The obvious rationale is that shrines did spiritual work, such as protecting the bridge or dike an official himself had built, or answering prayers.

Answering Petitions Scholars have generally presented steles as political work by elite, educated men and shrines as more popular, meant for offerings and prayer.70 There is some justification for this view in the sources. When 67. 1593/1597 NZ Shangyuan xianzhi 5/8–9. 68. Yang Bi, “Record of the Living Shrines to Shangyuan Magistrate Mr. Dongying Lin [‌Dafu‌].” 69. C. K. Yang, Religion in Chinese Society, 178–79. 70. Liu Shengjun, “Tangdai ‘shengci libei,’” 487; Chen Wenyi, “Cong chaoting dao difang,” 107–8; Ho Shu-yi, “Wan Ming de difangguan shengci,” 813. Scholars differ

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Jesuit missionaries insisted that ancestral ritual did not include material exchange, their elite Ming friends provided native sources for the distinction they drew between honor and worship.71 With respect to Shrines to Former Worthies, some Song writers had similarly insisted, as Neskar summarizes it, that educated Confucian men “did not strike deals with the [‌enshrined‌] worthies, nor did they ask the worthies for specific favors. Ritual action did not buy the worshiper special protection, a better life in the underworld, a longer life, or material gains.”72 To ask for such benefits was wrong and vulgar. Only degree holders or students were permitted in Former Worthies Shrines, lest an ignorant lower-class person, seeing an image in a templelike space, assume it was a deity open to prayers for assistance.73 Some Ming writers, too, worried that ignorant people would wrongly petition an enshrined image. A set prayer for the Ming living shrine to Chen Ru appears to demonstrate the tension around petitioning and social class. The incumbent magistrate, the source reports, would preside over services each spring and fall. The prayer text, written by the county school instructor, reviews the difficulties of the county—compounded for a long time by the lack of a compassionate, benevolent prefect—and Chen’s contributions. It concludes that all the pleasure the county’s people now have in life is due to Chen, cites the usual Record of Rites chapter, and notes that Chen both “modeled virtue for the people” and “staved off great disaster.” Then it warns those attending: “Shrines are to send thoughts. Living shrines are for reverent sacrifice.” The current magistrate will pray to (zhu) Chen for our people (wei wu min), just as Chen had governed for our people.74 For locals themselves to petition the enshrinee would be a mistake, though a natural one.

on how far temple inscriptions express, reflect, and shape local and nonelite views. Katz, Images of the Immortal, 97–99; Hansen, Changing Gods, 15. 71. See, recently, Menegon, “European and Chinese Controversies”; Lagerwey, China: A Religious State, 3. 72. Neskar, “Cult of Worthies,” 203–4, 206, also 31–32. 73. Neskar, “Cult of Worthies,” 34–37, 162–63. Confucius himself was subject to such requests; see Murray, “‘Idols’ in the Temple,” 371, 373, 380. 74. Chen Lu, “Prayer Text for the Living Shrine to Mr. Chen [‌Ru‌].”

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A Ming story leaves open the question of whether premortem shrines could still answer prayers. Recounting how the shrine to Tang official Di Renjie responded during his lifetime to “prayers for grace and requests for blessings,” including rain, it asks, “How does this compare with the living shrines of today?”75 In contrast, Fengyang gentryman Liu Ying introduces a gazetteer’s heterogeneous list headed “Shrines and Temples” with a phonological argument about the connection of shrine (ci) with offerings, especially of texts (ci). But he continues: “Further: asking for blessings is called dao (praying for favors); obtaining what was asked for is called ci [‌written with the same character as “shrine”‌].”76 Whereas some Ming prayers before the image in a living shrine brought blessings for the enshrinee, others probably sought blessings from them. Zhao Kesheng writes: “Another social meaning of living shrines lies in their developing sometimes into local spirit temples, which all have a function in stabilizing social psychology.” Zhao’s evidence does not clarify whether he is referring to postmortem worship here. Timing is critical. Shanghai’s shrine to Magistrate Xu was efficacious, but was that before or after he died? A Taihe living shrine became the place where the masses gathered to pray in times of flood, drought, or epidemic—but the source dates from after the enshrinee’s death.77 When Ming sources do not specify that a man had died when prayers brought responses, it might mean that everyone assumed he had or it might mean that they did not care. It is difficult to believe that residents who had just enshrined a powerful man in a nice new shrine, or on their home altars, would wait for news of his death in some distant province before praying to him.

75. Feng Su, “Stele on the Offering Hall of His Honor Di Renjie”; Ling Mengchu, Pai an jing qi 39/844. The evidence that the shrine answered prayers in Di’s life is not convincing, however, because it comes from after the rebuilding of the shrine, twenty years after Di’s departure. 76. See also Tracy Miller, Divine Nature, 30–33; CH/1488 NZ (Fengyang) Zhongdu zhi 1/4/373ff. For this gazetteer of Ming Taizu’s home town, see Taylor, “Ming T’aiTsu,” 33–34. 77. Zhao Kesheng, “Mingdai shengci,” 130.

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“Of Course They Will Pray to Him There” There is some direct evidence that shrines could be efficacious before the honoree’s death. Jiang Hao of Xin’an had overseen Guangchang County, Jiangxi, for nearly two decades: as magistrate starting in 1442, then as assistant prefect in charge of Guangchang County’s affairs, and finally as prefect of Jianchang for a full nine-year term ending in 1462– 63.78 He Qiaoxin wrote the record for the shrine built when Jiang retired from Zhejiang. He reports that the sponsoring group said to one another: “When His Honor was in our county, we people reverently saw and bowed to him every day, and, when he was at the prefecture, we people still had affairs that required going there and occasionally saw and bowed to him. How could we not make a living shrine?” Even after he was transferred to Zhejiang, they hoped he would be promoted again to a provincial post in Jiangxi so that they could still “look upon and bow to him with respect.” But his retirement dashed that hope. “How could we not make a living shrine?” they asked one another. And all agreed, “That’s how it is!”79 Together, they built “a new shrine in its solemn grandeur.”80 In front of the building housing Jiang’s image was a pavilion “to be the place for kowtowing.” What was the shrine’s purpose? He Qiaoxin explained: At set times of year of course they will pay a call on him there; drink and food of course they will offer to him there; in flood and drought, pestilence or epidemic, of course they will pray to him there. If in some matter they experience injustice, of course in the courtyard they will cry out and file a plaint before him. 嵗時必謁焉，飲食必祝焉， 水旱疫癘必禱焉。事有不平者，必號於庭 而愬焉。

Regular offerings will be made, and the people will ask for help with the myriad uncontrollable ills of life: too much rain, too little rain,

78. 1517 JX Jianchang fuzhi 12/32 (193) and 12/10 (182). 79. He Qiaoxin, “Record of the Living Shrine to Mr. Jiang [‌Hao‌].” 80. The allusion is to Odes no. 239.

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infectious disease, and state injustice. While in office, Jiang had reworked flood control at the county seat, strictly controlled government personnel, dissuaded people from bringing lawsuits, and kept them out of jail.81 To ask the enshrined image of such a man for healing, for rain, for justice at the hands of later officials, and to expect efficacious intervention, seems eminently reasonable.82 That is what He Qiaoxin says will happen in this premortem shrine. There is no sign that prayers for help would await word that Jiang was dead. On the contrary, He Qiao­ xin’s final poem mingles plans for worship with good wishes appropriate to the present occasion of retirement.83 Recall that some Song and Ming sources claim there was a class difference: gentry venerate, commoners ignorantly pray for miracles. Was He Qiaoxin merely reporting the beliefs of a group of men below his social level, who might believe in a kind of spiritual retention he himself, as a member of the gentry, did not accept? The group sponsoring the shrine, which He claims spoke for the county’s broader public, was led by “an elder (qijiu) of our county, Huang Yuxuan,” and some (named and unnamed) family members with no titles at all, not even “student.” Jianchang Huangs had been winning degrees and other honors since Song times, so these people may have been from lesser branches of well-established gentry families. In advising Jiang Hao in detail on restoring local livelihoods, the “elders” spoke against the interests of wealthy and powerful gentry houses able to extend limited legal tax exemptions to cover more and more land and family members. 81. Alluding to a Shang court hymn, Odes no. 304, He Qiaoxin describes Jiang as “neither violent nor remiss”—recalling He’s point that mercy is only half the job of governing, complemented by sternness with the wicked. He continues: “This is the modern-day ‘Duke of Shao’s pear tree’” (incorrect in the Electronic Siku quanshu digital text). He Qiaoxin, probably because he wanted to put this line into his “wrap-up” poem, had stuck a reference to the Gantang tree into the midst of his record, in a rather awkward place but one that draws attention to the two sides of governing, “hard and soft,” to which the Shang hymn to King Tang refers and which Jiang exemplifies. 82. See Paul Katz on the “judicial continuum”: people appealed both to the secular authorities and to the City God and Eastern Marchmount, even ritually indicting state personnel as corrupt. “The judicial mechanisms of this world can interact and even overlap with those of the underworld” (Divine Justice, 59, 181–82). 83. He Qiaoxin, “Record of the Living Shrine to Mr. Jiang [‌Hao‌].”

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We might hypothesize that such marginal gentry or commoners were closer to popular religious practice than Qiaoxin and that his anticipation of their petitions and plaints did not reflect his own practices. But the sponsors had worked with Qiaoxin’s younger brother, Qiaonian, even before recruiting the more eminent Qiaoxin, by mail, to write the record for Jiang Hao. Commoners, elders, and gentry are presented as united in their presence at the shrine and in its activities. Their unity was precisely what made such activities legitimate. Finally, Qiao­ xin had a strong family connection with shrines to resident administrators.84 Taking all this together, it seems likely that even prominent gentrymen like Qiaoxin could believe that the image of a still-living man would take in offerings and respond to prayers. He Qiaoxin even hints at worries that it is commoners who might not take the shrine seriously. After wishes for Jiang’s long life, progeny, and prosperity, his concluding poem ends: Our people yearn for His Honor; On what day would they ever forget? At certain times of year coming to visit, Would they dare be disrespectful? [‌Certainly not—because‌] His Honor’s image is in the hall. [‌They will be‌] respectful, reverent, and properly solemn.85

The case provides direct evidence from the mid-fifteenth century that both gentry and commoners expected enshrined men who were still alive to answer petitions with miracles.

Coming and Going An example from a hundred years later addresses another of the questions raised above by historian Zhu Weizheng. To maintain a supernatural connection with a former jurisdiction, would the enshrinee really have to be present in two places at once? Not even gods can

84. I intend to explore this in future work. 85. He Qiaoxin, “Record of the Living Shrine to Mr. Jiang [‌Hao‌].”

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necessarily do that, but, as historian Mu-chou Poo explained to me, “ghosts travel really fast.”86 A premortem essay by Ma Sen (who himself earned a posthumous shrine) records that, at the request of elders who had heard good things about his work nearby, Liu Zongyin had been sent in by the provincial military commander to rescue Liancheng County from bandits and pirates. Liu dealt with a whole series of violent attacks on the county by sheer force of personality as well as planning logistics, deploying troops, and boosting morale. The central state rewarded him with a thousand-tael bonus and a raise; locals rewarded him with a shrine built as he headed for the capital. The 1562 record credits his efficacy to the prestige he had earned among the people by governing well in ordinary times, his talent and knowledge with respect to strategy, and his perseverance. Like ling efficacy, reputation was a social product that could bring more influence with it. Ma Sen continues: From what I can see, when Mr. Liu was in Liancheng, he linked his body’s life or death to that of Liancheng. Now that he has left Liancheng, he will further link his heart-and-mind’s safety and danger to that of the county. Even if he, on a later day, is promoted to glorious [‌government‌] positions, his spirit (jingshen) will often come and go among Liancheng’s hills and valleys, periodically traveling its four borders and protecting its people (renmin) so that they will live always quietly, without incident. . . . The people in Liancheng have received much of his grace; it is fitting that they offer sacrifice to him while he is still alive.87

Liu had risked his life and exerted all his energy for the Liancheng people, keeping them alive amid violence and famine. His success came from persistence and commitment, so why would he stop protecting 86. In one story, a deity fails to respond to an offering because she is out at a birthday party (Mair and Bender, Columbia Anthology, 384). For Song worries about where spirits were when they answered prayers, see Hymes, Way and Byway, 125–26. Hymes likens the question to the situation of elite men still influencing matters at home while serving in office elsewhere. 87. Ma Sen, “Record of the Living Shrine to Tingzhou Prefectural Judge Mr. Liu [‌Zongyin‌].” For Ma’s shrine, Mingshi 19/214/5660.

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them just because his physical body was elsewhere? The more so because of his upbringing: several forebears, including his father, had earned living shrines.88 Through his shrine, Liu could continue to aid Liancheng during his life and afterwards.

Pleading at His Honor’s Court There are a few more pieces of evidence for the efficacy of living shrines. The entry for Wang Sanyu in the Xinghua gazetteer says that, after he had been promoted to a central post and was in the capital, “he did not forget his old coastal county. If the commoners had a matter they pleaded about with heartfelt emotion, he would always support them in seeking their relief. He is worshiped in a living shrine.”89 Whether Wang’s aid came through the shrine is not completely clear from this statement, but elsewhere the same gazetteer leaves no doubt. Zong Chen wrote a record for a shrine to departing magistrate Hu Shunhua that opens with some questions about why there are so many living shrines in Xinghua and a reassurance to the reader that each one is well deserved. Then it details how Magistrate Hu protected Xinghua from pirates and was being made secretary of the Nanjing Ministry of War. His shrine was large and impressive: At that point, the Xinghua commoners, having turned to him, did not wish to forget him, so they built a shrine inside the Wenming Gate. [‌The shrine‌] had a gate with a signboard on it, behind that left and right pavilions, in the middle a hall, behind that a main hall. In the hall there was an image of His Honor. The image was [‌painted‌] yellow as gold and green as jade, but everyone (zhong) still worried that it was not sturdy enough. So at the very back they built another hall and cast another image of bronze, bright and imposing.

88. Ma Sen mentions four. Liu Que’s shrine appears in Fan Yan, “Stele Record and Poem for the Living Shrine to Prefect Hou [‌Donglai‌].” Liu Yu’s appears in 1774 HN Henan tongzhi 54/59. I have not found the other two. 89. 1684 NZ Xinghua xianzhi 2/485.

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This premortem temple has two images of the former magistrate, one either a painting or more probably a brightly painted statue made of wood or clay, and the other of bronze. And what are the images for? Zong Chen writes, “Alas! Since the people of Xinghua sincerely act like this toward His Honor, some other year if someone is sentenced for a crime or oppressed by taxes and demands, how could he not offer incense and, crying, plead at His Honor’s court (ting)?” Zong Chen expects the people of Xinghua to visit the shrine as individuals—when in the grip of the law or oppressed by state demands—to make an offering and plead with the image of Hu for help. But will Hu respond? And further, if someone were to go before His Honor and remotely (yao) plead with him, then His Honor further could not bear to forget that he is invoked (nian) in Xinghua and fail to lend a hand to rescue him. Alas! Like this, then, is the living shrine. How could we make offerings to His Honor only at harvest time or the new year? We will count on him more heavily than that!90

Wherever he is, Hu’s enshrined image will respond to worship and rescue the petitioner. The official, biannual offerings only keep the shrine going—local people will turn to it in need, as with any other deity cult. Finally, as with other protective deities, petition might not even be necessary. Eighty years after Hu Shunhua’s enshrinement, in 1640, the magistrate of Feixiang County in Beizhili, Hao Jiong, violated bureaucratic boundaries to materially aid neighboring Cheng’an County, first in the matter of defense by mustering effective troops in Feixiang and then with famine, when the Cheng’an magistrate had been able to do nothing. Cheng’an people were deeply grateful. Divining a good spot about 20 li to the northeast of the county seat (in the direction of Fei­ xiang), they built a “Bao’en” Repaying Grace Shrine to him (with no stele). One night a group of bandits passed in front of the shrine, 90. Zong Chen, “Record of the [‌Living‌] Shrine to Mr. Hu [‌Shunhua‌].” Zong Chen died in 1560, the same year in which he wrote this record, whereas Hu Shunhua lived at least until 1567 (1732 JX Jiangxi tongzhi 47/42).

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presumably on their way to wreak havoc in Cheng’an. Suddenly, through the darkness, they saw a profusion of banners and pennants arrayed before them. Thinking that they saw the real troops of Fei­ xiang, the bandits hurriedly fled far away.91 Surely these were “shade soldiers,” the spirits of the dead, at Hao’s command. Hao was still alive, and his shrine produced a miracle.

Reversing the Bureaucratic Metaphor A shrine could spiritually retain an effective official. Records spoke of enshrinement as “like” (often ruo) seeing the man’s face; it was not completely the same, for crowds still flocked to see an enshrinee in person or ask about him when an acquaintance passed through.92 In Ming thinking, there was no reason that living men could not take in offerings or do miracles. Yet the record yields only a very few miracles done by the images of living men, compared with the many records of their contributions in office and compared with the many miracles done by images of dead humans—perhaps only because ling grows gradually, and life is short. Even though the ritual relationship sometimes went beyond “honor” to “worship,” efficacy cannot explain the large number of shrines. We could say that shrines exemplify ritualization in the subjunctive key: creating a better possibility in the broken world and allowing people to act while permitting ambiguity about concrete results.93 Or we could consider what kind of political theory living shrines manifested that made it worth local subjects’ time and money to build so many. 91. “Appendix: Transmission of How the Fei[‌x iang‌] Magistrate Blessed and Protected Cheng[‌’an‌] County,” 1618+CZ+SZ BZ Cheng’an yi cheng, 577–78. The last additions were made to this gazetteer in 1646, and there is no evidence that Hao Jiong had died before the incident occurred. He went on to serve as right assistance administration commissioner (1733 HG Huguang tongzhi 29/59). 92. Former Huanggang magistrate Zhao Shideng was enshrined with a successor. Locals asked about him whenever someone came from the capital, where he was posted (1608 HG Huanggang xianzhi 4/19–20 [‌listing for Tu Zongjun‌]). 93. The language is from Seligman et al., Ritual and Its Consequences, chapter 1, referring to Geertz. See also Seligman and Weller, Rethinking Pluralism, 94, and the orthopraxy/orthodoxy debate in Watson and Rawski, Death Ritual.

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Matteo Ricci noted that “the Chinese adore some idols, but when these latter do not grant their wishes, the [‌Chinese‌] give them a good beating, and afterwards make peace with them.” He also wrote that officials were “like gods on earth,” exalted above all others by the layout, accoutrements, costume, and procedures of the government office, where they sat in dignity, meting out judgments and beatings behind a table “just like an altar.”94 The gap between the resident administrator and an ordinary subject was immense, and magistrates were advised to preserve it, with display of privileges, decisiveness, dignity, equanimity, impartiality, and beatings.95 Living shrines embodied the fiction of parent-child closeness between magistrate and subjects. Enshrined former magistrates were more approachable than incumbents—they sat, all day and night, in a public space. And they were more accountable; for spirits had to keep proving themselves to earn worship, and City Gods were indeed beaten, illegally in Ming times, to “satisfy popular expectations of the magistrate.”96 Sinologists once proposed that, since the world of gods was a hierarchy that looked like the state, the state must have possessed divine, unquestioned legitimacy.97 Now scholars have shown that people required efficacious service of their gods; that, in Hansen’s words, “motivated by a desire for recognition, the gods rewarded those who honored them by performing miracles”; and finally that “the gods needed human recognition in order to continue to perform miracles.”98 The very form of a shrine to a living official, a complex that looked just like a scaled-down yamen, sent a political message that did not depend on the specificity of texts. Locals could nominate gods for official rosters, but the state decided whether to add them. Locals could not normally nominate resident administrators, but they could decide which to try to keep, through secular petition or through enshrinement. Spiritual 94. Hsia, Jesuit in the Forbidden City, 73–74. 95. Nimick, Local Administration, 125–26. 96. Taylor, “Spirits of the Penumbra,” 129–30 n. 18. For Qing petitioners burning incense and kneeling outside the yamen to entreat the magistrate “in the way that believers prayed for fulfillment of their wishes in a temple,” then violently protesting when entreaties failed, see Hung, Protest with Chinese Characteristics, 82. 97. See Hymes, Way and Byway. 98. Hansen, Changing Gods, 46–47, 130, 79 respectively.

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efficacy and effective government both earned worship in shrines, for deities and for humans. One record commemorated the renovation of three ill-assorted shrines that had “gradually decayed until they could no longer content the spirits.” One was to Yue Fei, the loyal and doomed Song general, here deified in popular style as “King Yue.” One was to wife Jia, who had drowned herself to escape defilement by Yuan troops after writing a poem that reappeared with her corpse after three days in the water; she had been enshrined by Yuezhou prefect Li Jing in about 1485. The third was to departing prefect Li himself, enshrined for a tremendous engineering project. Writing in 1566, as high Ming attacks on popular religion were slowing down, author Xu Zhuo linked all three shrines by their service to and selection by the people. Shrines come into being because looking up to their meritorious service, [‌locals‌] yearn to requite it; admiring their purity [‌locals‌] yearn to venerate it. Making sacrifices to them—they cannot help but do it! . . . [‌And shrines survive because‌] they obey the people’s hopes. . . . The people’s hopes are what distinguish grace to the people and divine righteousness [‌from ordinary behavior‌]; and are what encompass worship for meritorious service and ritual for the pure.99

The people’s understanding of their own benefit is the rationale for all shrine worship, before or after the enshrinee’s death. Ming philosopher Zhan Ruoshui thought that gods and spirits did not exist of themselves; the sincerity of the worshiper brought them into being.100 In Xu’s presentation, the spiritual power of a shrine lay in the power of the people in their relation to a former administrator. In late imperial popular religion, the people “voted” for cults, co-​ creating the efficacy of gods. I would like to turn the bureaucratic metaphor around to propose that the state and its representatives, like gods, had to earn adherence by continuing merit and virtue. Local people, 99. 1488 +JJ HG Yuezhou fuzhi 2/175–76, 84–85; Xu Zhuo, “Record of the Renova­ tion of Three Shrines.” 100. Sutton, “Prefect Feng,” 39–40.

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by building premortem shrines that required no authorization, theorized that the administrator’s authority while in office similarly sprang from their support. Premortem shrines could house resident administrators not only before but after their deaths, and those shrines entered the economy of reciprocal offerings and efficacious response of which shrines to many other sorts of deities, odd spirits, and dead humans were a part. Some kinds of shrine were meant mainly for elite men’s spiritual self-cultivation, like Song Shrines to Former Worthies, but in all shrines offerings were made and taken in, and prayers blessed both enshrinee and worshiper. Whether it was appropriate for someone to petition for assistance was open to debate. The line between life and death, human and divine, was fine enough that we should not assume it was impossible for living men to respond with miracles when they had taken in offerings. Indeed, how could a benevolent administrator accept offerings without reciprocating? It was reasonable in Ming times to think that a powerful enshrined person could respond to prayers even if he was only far away, and not dead, and there is a little direct evidence for this. But there is not enough evidence to account for the vast investment in premortem shrines. I have suggested, therefore, that premortem shrines also stated a political theory in religious terms: the theory that the resident administrator’s legitimate authority stemmed from public approbation, much as the ling of successful temples grew with public attendance and donations. The next chapter will show that shrines could do more concrete political work.

Part Two

Pillars and Beams

Chapter Four

Political Work

C

hengxiang magistrate Liu Bin was personally thrifty, fair, and effective in setting up community schools, charitable granaries, and the like. When his nine-year term ended, the old and young of the jurisdiction hung on his cart and filled the roads. He said to them: “You should not worry about me. I’ll only be gone a half-year or so!” Not three months later, while Liu Bin was home sick in bed, bandits arose in the neighboring county of Raoping. The city fell, and refugees collected in Chengxiang. When he heard the news, Liu Bin rushed to aid the defense of Chengxiang, arriving in only four days. He was acting on what he had told the people of another of his jurisdictions when he had rescued some of them from hunger and they were wanting to repay him. Liu had refused the money, saying: “To give life to you is my parental heart. How could I permit repayment?” It was little wonder that “the commoners (baixing) hung a living image (sheng xiang) in the Lujing temple” as well as setting up a separate shrine.1 Saving Cheng­ xiang had not been his job when the bandits attacked, but he took it as his mission, based on the central cultural parent-child relation. Perhaps Liu Bin’s parentalism sprang from his own conscience. Perhaps it was

1. Zhan Ruoshui, “Biography of Leizhou Prefecture Vice-Prefect Liu ‘Shaoyan’ Bin”; 1732 JX Jiangxi tongzhi 78/30. Zhan was an associate of Wang Yangming, and Liu’s immediate response based on a sense of what was right fits with Wang’s conception of “innate goodness” (liang zhi). The refusal of money gifts is a trope I will examine in future work.

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prompted, or strengthened, by the emotional (political) demonstrations by the people of his jurisdiction. The paucity of miracles done by living men sends us back to politics for an explanation of the wide establishment of premortem shrines. The most common explanation for the multiplication of shrines was that they enabled locals, particularly gentry, to blandish officials to create a favorable relationship. But the snippets decrying living shrines and other honors as mere puffery and flummery typically appear as straw-man arguments in premortem steles. Jiajing-era Expositor on the Classics Gu Dingchen deplored officials who deceived their superiors and mistreated their inferiors, blaming their own incompetence on difficult local gentry and stubborn commoners and then, when about to leave for a new post, conspired selfishly to build living shrines and set up stones lauding their own meritorious service. But he excepted the worthy magistrate he was commemorating.2 Again, the conscientious grand secretary Ye Xianggao, who vainly tried to damp down the conflict between the Donglin faction and Wei Zhongxian, once wrote, I see prefects today who have no merit or virtue with respect to the people yet make a show of admiring [‌Han official Zhu Yi’s close relationship with the people of‌] Tongxiang, taking his fame to cover up their own shortcomings. And their subjects, also observing what they [‌the prefects‌] want to get, perversely make them offerings in order to target their happiness. Above and below, both ignorant! It is completely meaningless. The corruption of a decaying age has gone so far!3

Yet this condemnation, too, occurred in the context of Ye’s commemoration of a good prefect who had won sincere local gratitude. Certainly, living shrines served gentry networking purposes. But they did more. At the close of chapter 3, I argued that by implication shrines made a general political claim: that, like deities, officials’ legitimacy 2. Gu Dingchen, “Stele for the Legacy of Love Shrine to County Magistrate Mr. Wang [‌Jianzhi‌].” 3. Ye Xianggao, “Record of the Living Shrine to Jiujiang Prefect Mr. Xing” 50/14a.



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and perhaps their power rested on people’s recognition of their real accomplishments. I turn now to more specific political work. Giving examples from 1886 and the early 1940s of the “anthro­ polatry of the living personality,” which he saw as “practiced very sparingly,” C. K. Yang proposed two political functions: “Live” cults, like other popular cults, encouraged civic virtues. For officials who came to rule a district where a “live sanctuary” had been built for one of the preceding administrators, such a sanctuary, and sanctuaries for departed figures as well, served to remind them of their exemplary predecessors and silently suggested that they too might be glorified if they observed similar values and performed similar deeds in the public interest. The cults of exemplary officials, living or dead, also inspired public confidence in government and law, for they proved that, given good men, government could be good, and that bad government by bad officials was no refutation of the basic soundness of government.4

Yang argues that pre- and postmortem enshrinement of exemplars encouraged imitation by promising a like recompense. He argues also that the shrines strengthened the legitimacy of the state overall by showing that the center did, sometimes, send out good administrators. Yang’s argument is at least partially correct. But more specificity is required. First, chapter 2 has shown that enshrined administrators were not “exemplars” as normally understood. Rather, they pursued policies locals appreciated, usually focused on livelihood and security, including shielding locals from taxation and punishment by the state. Second, pre-and postmortem shrines did not do quite the same thing: local residents decided on premortem enshrinements, whereas posthumous enshrinement required official permission. Third, residents of jurisdictions used the repertoire of honors, including the offer of enshrinement, to bind officials to them, working against the logic of bureaucratic practice with its short terms and frequent transfers. But, for that to work, officials had to want living shrines. This chapter will 4. C. K. Yang, Religion in Chinese Society, 174–75; for his translation of ci as “sanctuary,” 161.

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show that they did and consider why. Fourth, although it is possible that shrines strengthened popular faith in the dynasty, premortem rhetoric included denunciations of officials and even critiques of the central government that selected them. Fifth, Yang also understated the political work that shrines could do. Officials’ desire for shrines put some power in the hands of locals.5 Finally, in the contentious politics of the Ming period, lauding resident administrators injected locals and their premorten enshrinement practices into conflicts at the regional and even national level. The chapter concludes with discussion of several specific steles for premortem shrines that further illuminate their political work.

Influencing Those Who Are to Come Telling an incoming administrator what he should do was the most obvious political aim of the premortem genre.6 Steles made the messages very explicit, listing what the honored former official had done. The sponsors of the shrine to Song Jixian intended to “eternize his transmission” (yong qi chuan): to send a message forward into the future about what good government looked like—and bad government, too. One shrine record recounted elders deciding to record Song An’s governing traces on a stone “to show to later officials so they all will not be able to stop them [‌his policies‌].”7 But words alone could not convince a delegate of the central government, from a distant place, expecting to stay only a few years, to serve the interests of the locality 5. Power does not simply inhere in a “powerful” person or group. Social relations involve mutual, even if very unequal, dependence: “each party is in a position, to some degree, to grant or deny, facilitate or hinder, the other’s gratification.” Emerson, “PowerDependence Relations,” 32. See Gordon, “Governmental Rationality,” 5, for Foucault’s insistence on removing actual violence from “power” so that disobedience is possible and all parties have some agency, both in practical fact and in ethical understanding. Faced with a command claimed to be morally right, one may obey but not agree, agree but not obey, obey and agree, or neither obey nor agree. 6. Zhao Kesheng, “Mingdai shengci,” 130. 7. Jiang Jinhe, “Record of Mr. Song [Jixian’s] Living Shrine.”Liu Ju, “Hanlin Senior Compiler Liu Ju Takes Up [‌His Brush‌] to Record the Living Shrine to Subprefect in Charge of the Affairs of Neihuang County Mr. Song An.”



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instead of pursuing promotion and praise from the center. How could the county make its case? Ritual helped. The ceremonious arrival of a new official was meant to impress the staff and important people who had to come some way out of town to meet him. Conversely, if an outgoing magistrate was still in place when the new one arrived, the performance of seeing him off by lying down in the wheel ruts, pulling back on the shafts to the cart, and mourning and wailing could be directed at the newcomer (fig. 4.1).8 Drawing attention to a stele helped. One way was to ask, unnecessarily, for permission. When Magistrate Zheng Luoshu had left Shanghai three named elders (qilao) and a group of a hundred or more people requested the new magistrate to set up a departure stele to him. The new magistrate not only permitted it, saying, “The good in former matters is the teacher of what follows,” but also contributed half a month’s salary. Everyone was so happy that they shouted and clapped and jumped around (we are told). The anecdote lauds the new magistrate, and shows that the stele was meant to instruct such incoming men.9 A stele let locals tell an incoming official exactly what policies they appreciated. A living shrine showed how they could reward him. On arrival, the new administrator was taken on a tour of the temples, where he would ask each spirit for help; living shrines, as sacred, public spaces, may have been included. A record argues that every official serving in Yangzhou or even just passing through will see Jiang Yao’s living shrine and think: If I do as he did, how do I know people will not love me the way they love him? The author asks: How could they see it and not know his worth, know his worth and not imitate it?10 The shrine linked stele words with the sacred and made a promise to the newcomer. Yang Hong’s 1449 shrine at the garrison temple, set up by the soldiers, encouraged successors, wrote the author of the record: 8. Chelsea Zi Wang says it is simply not clear whether outgoing and incoming magistrates would overlap (personal communication, Nov. 2015). See Nimick, “The County, the Magistrate, and the Yamen,” 138–43, on arrival procedures. 9. Tang Jin, “Gone Yet Remembered Stele for Mr. Zheng [‌Luoshu‌].” 10. Ye Xiang, “Record of the New Built Legacy of Love Shrine to Yangzhou Prefect Mr. Jiang [‌Yao‌]” 50/53b. By contrast, as time passed, Ye wrote, locals would not remember all the details of what Jiang Yao had done, but, passing the shrine, they would still stop, look, bow, laud, and think of him.

Fig. 4.1.  Seeing off the departing magistrate. Old and young bow to the departing magistrate on his horse. A porter follows with the scanty luggage and another with the umbrella of honor, which this magistrate has chosen to keep furled. The top register lauds him, explaining that people tried to stop him from leaving by pulling on the shafts and lying down in the wheel ruts and weeping at his departure; and they established a shrine with his image in it. The daily work of farming and herding in the background under­ lines the importance of the people’s livelihood. Since they are wearing gowns, not trousers, it is possible that the sorrowing people are all gentry. Source: 1579 ZJ Xinchang xianzhi.



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whatever gentlemen succeed him in office can accompany him to the left and the right, ten in all. The image will be displayed to “those who come after” for their reverence.11 As C. K. Yang wrote, shrines to former administrators living and dead did send messages to successors—but not “silently.”12 Steles made the demands explicit; shrines made the offer weighty. Resident administrators might see value in acting so as to earn a shrine for several reasons: conscience, self-worth, reputation, career promotion, and political protection. That, in turn, gave the locality some limited ability to shape administrators’ choices. It also made shrines a place to express public opinion on personnel and policy matters on the regional and national stage long before the Wei Zhongxian episode.

Conscience and Reputation The repertoire of honors, including the parental metaphor and enshrinement, tied the community’s well-being to an official’s conscience.13 Officials responded because cherishing commoners was a “core Confucian value.”14 One official’s very name embedded the value in a quotation from the “Great Learning”: Wang Xinmin was Wang “Renew-the-People” or “Draw-Close-to-the-People.”15 Officials themselves used the parental metaphor, and some surely meant it. The conscientious (and enshrined) Hai Rui, as county magistrate, wrote that the emperor and court were his father and mother; the various officials and gentry his brothers; and the clerks, community elders, and

11. Feng Yi, “Record of the Living Shrine to Mr. Yang [‌Hong‌].” Ann Waltner (per­sonal communication) likened this to the way Ming tomb figurines represent processions of officials. 12. C. K. Yang, Religion in Chinese Society, 173–75. 13. Tsai, Accountability, helped me understand this. See Schneewind, “Political Science.” 14. Chow does not list it, but his discussion does treat it that way. See Rise of Confucian Ritualism, 3, 10, 20. 15. He was enshrined on departure from a magistracy in the Longqing period; 1625 YN Dian zhi 11/20.

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common people his descendants.16 In the premortem genre, the parental metaphor stressed benevolent competence and justifiable gratitude rather than obedience. Typically, an enshrined administrator was lauded for “preparing governance for the county as if for his family and overseeing the people as if they were his children.”17 Parentalist service offered the satisfaction of a clear conscience aligned with a major cultural tenet. The satisfaction that came with local recognition of a difficult job well done was real. It might be particularly important to magistrates without metropolitan degrees and officials below the level of the magistrate, both groups unlikely to progress far up the career ladder.18 Focusing on their relationship with locals as a strategy might have made perfect sense for them. Warden Tang En of the Jiajing period articulated this focus: in trouble but knowing that he was well regarded locally in Sha County, he once sighed, “Given that I have no sons, what would I need money for? Just let later generations of Sha people know that there was a Warden Tang, and that is good enough.” Indeed, when he left, the people made an inscription at the Double Phoenix Pavilion, assuring his remembrance.19 For the Jiajing emperor’s expensive southern tour, the center demanded supplies from the counties of Beizhili. Magistrate Suo Shao, a mere government student, convinced the circuit that the “little commoners” (xiaomin) of Qinghe were too poor for the county to be assessed more than 10 to 20 percent of what other counties paid. But precisely because of this, bureaucratic superiors transferred Suo away and Qinghe enshrined him.20 Besides the uncertain official careers of men with low-ranking degrees and offices, another reason officials might be eager for local approval also relates to social mobility and the uncertainty of official careers. Most officials came from gentry families, but others came from wealthy or well-educated commoner families. And the gentry rank that came with passing the civil service 16. Wu Zhihe, “Mingdai de xianling,” 17. 17. 1661 SH Luochuan zhi 1/24, biography of Wanli magistrate Chen Weizhi. According to 1625 YN Dian zhi 11/16, a subprefect managed the subprefecture as if it were his family, and, when he died, the residents mourned as if burying a parent. 18. Wu Zhihe, “Mingdai de xianling,” 11. 19. 1684 FJ Fujian tongzhi 31/33b. 20. 1581+SZ BZ Qinghe xianzhi, 75.



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examinations could be lost. Mao Kun had an ancestor who had held office under the Yuan, but after 1368 he became a bamboo merchant, and the family did well in farming and silk production. Mao Kun was the first to pass the Ming examinations, becoming a juren in 1534 and a jinshi in 1538. In his first post, he earned a shrine for warning local bullies and supporting the businesses of the coppersmiths of Qingyang County. After all, he was from an industrial and mercantile family. When he took up a post as magistrate of Dantu, the county was suffering a drought, and Mao reshuffled tax burdens and distributed food to both meet the tax quota and feed the hungry; again, locals wished to enshrine him when he was promoted. But, in the end, because of his adherence to another core value—loyalty to friends and patrons—he was removed from office and eventually stripped of his rank, becoming a commoner again.21 Resident administrators from relatively lowly backgrounds may have had more motivation to assist commoners and even a tendency to listen to what they had to say. Even for well-entrenched gentrymen, shrines were a source of pride and reputation. Jiang Yonglin and Wu Yanhong have laid out the various ways in which Guo Zizhang’s reputation was promoted.22 But he was also enshrined alive in various jurisdictions and had the related texts published as “Record of Living Shrines in Three Provinces.”23 Chen Longzheng proudly recorded the popularity of his father, Yuwang, when he served in Jurong County: when he left, the people tried to keep him; having failed, they built a shrine to him; when they heard of his death, they wept.24 A collection of biographies of the “famous clans” of a certain county included live enshrinements.25 Wang Shizhen wrote of the son of an old friend, Ma, magistrate of Guidong. When Ma earned a shrine from the clerks and people, a gentryman from the next county composed the stele record, which yet another friend, Li Yangong, admired. Unable to make a rubbing, Li recarved a smaller stone with the inscription text and added a note at the end. Not having 21. DMB, 1042–46. DMB omits the Dantu shrine. 22. Jiang and Wu, “Reputation Construction.” 23. DMB, 775. 24. Smith, Art of Doing Good, 65. See Chen Yuwang’s entry in 1733 HG Huguang tongzhi 41/55. 25. Cao Sixuan, Xiuning ming zu zhi, e.g., 127, 153.

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earned the same admiration from locals, Li “resented and felt envious of” Ma, but he nevertheless gave him the new mini-stele, for Wang saw it set into a display wall of Ma’s house in Nanjing. 26 Officials desired and boasted of local honors, and they appear in epitaphs as well.27 Beyond bragging rights, local honors as evidence of a good reputation could help careers. Well before the reign histories, Veritable Re­ cords, and official dynastic history handed out praise and blame, bureaucratic superiors and an official’s peers were constantly assessing performance. Bureaucratic dossiers for magistrates included both solicited local evaluations and unsolicited “comments or complaints from local commoners or the magistrates’ staffs.”28 Ho Shu-yi gives specific examples of gentry commemorating officials to affect state evaluations.29 Retention petitions by definition reached higher-ups and they might bring advancement. Locals asked to retain Du Qiming when he was transferred, so he was returned to the county with a higher rank.30 A retention petition for Assistant Magistrate Wu during the Xuande period meant he was sent back as magistrate.31 A request from seven hundred people to retain Magistrate Song An in 1422 earned him a promotion to subprefect in charge of the county; he was also enshrined, apparently while still in office there. 32 Sun Yu became prefect of Huizhou as a new jinshi in 1436; a petition to retain him at the end of his term succeeded in keeping him for another nine years and raised his rank. After eighteen years as prefect, he was promoted away and 26. Wang Shizhen, “Preface to the ‘Living Shrine Record’ for Guidong [‌Former‌] Magistrate Mr. Ma.” 27. E.g., living shrines in Zhu Dashao, Huang Ming mingchen muming 58/31, 59/37. 28. Nimick, Local Administration, 98–99. Joseph Dennis argues that gazetteers “had the potential” for bureaucratic use in assessing resident administrators but does not show any such actual use. Writing, Publishing, and Reading, 299. Direct mention of local honors dropped out by the time the Ministry of Rites summarized the dossier for the emperor, to judge by a survey of several mid-Jiajing years in Xu Wenjian, Libu kaogongsi tigao, but magistrates’ assessments included such terms as “close to the people” (lin min) (2/405). 29. Ho Shu-yi, “Wan Ming de difangguan shengci,” 838–43. 30. 1882 BZ Huailai xianzhi 11/24. 31. When he died in office, the commoners (baixing) made a shrine to make offerings to him, 1577+1592 NZ Yingtian fuzhi 25/13. 32. 1537 HN Neihuang xianzhi 5/29.



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enshrined alive.33 It is likely that officials jostled for local honors to bulk up dossiers and promote careers. So how did granting such honors constitute local authority? Gentry and officials could surely fabricate honors, and the desire for a shrine could lead to collusion and illegal pressure on subordinates to offer undeserved flattery. But one case proves that it could also press officials to meet a high standard. Matteo Ricci had established a mission in Zhaoqing under the patronage of Prefect Wang Pan, who earned a shrine while in office. Wang’s mistaken impression that the Jesuits intended to staff this shrine had led him to grant them land adjoining it, but when corrected he did not go back on his word. Shortly there­after, a new grand coordinator came to Guangdong: Liu Jiwen, who had a reputation for incorruptibility second only to that of Hai Rui. Afraid to move into his official residence because of the ghost of his predecessor, Liu was living temporarily near Zhaoqing, where he saw Wang’s shrine and the Jesuit residence. Aspiring to have a shrine right next to Wang’s, he evicted the Jesuits from their beautiful grounds on charges of heterodoxy. They had spent 600 taels on the complex, so, when Liu offered a mere 60 taels in recompense, Ricci scornfully refused it, in a note written just before the group departed for Macao. The very next day, Governor Liu sent a fast boat to recall the Jesuits and finally agreed to permit them to settle anywhere else in the province. Why the change of heart? As Ronald Hsia explains it: Liu Jiezhai [Jiwen] feared for his reputation when [‌Associate Prefect‌] Fang Yingzhi reported on the negotiations with Ricci and showed his superior Ricci’s note refusing the money. As “Hai Rui Number Two,” Liu simply could not afford to hurt his reputation by seizing the Jesuit residence without the foreigners accepting any compensation. A Living Shrine befits a good magistrate, not an arbitrary official. Hence the fast boat, the message of recall.34

33. Zhou Hongmo, “Record of the Living Shrine to Former Prefect of Huizhou Mr. Sun [‌Yu‌].” 34. Hsia, Jesuit in the Forbidden City, 112–15, citing Elia and Ricci, Fonti Ricciane, 263; Liu’s motivation for recalling Ricci appears on page 267. Cf. Gallagher, China in

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Liu’s desire for a shrine meant he had acted in such a way as to earn one, more or less. Living shrines gave disempowered subjects some ability to hold officials accountable.

“The Multitudes of People Are a Wall” Living shrines could establish standards of service in exchange for a sense of self-worth, a good reputation among peers, and career advancement. Furthermore, just as posthumous enshrinement could signal political rehabilitation by the court,35 premortem enshrinement could signal local political support during life that had real consequences in an era when officials often suffered impeachment, dismissal, beating, imprisonment, and execution.36 The signal was not always effective, but it could speak to policy as well as specific personnel issues. Some people protected their resident administrators directly; as just one example, in the Jiajing-era prefect Xu Ying had just brought Jiaxing through the difficulties of the Prince of Ning’s rebellion when he was slandered and dismissed; locals went to court to sue for his release, and he returned to his post with a rise in rank.37 When Qin Hong was jailed early in his five-decade career, five thousand people went to the capital to sue for his release.38 Such retention petitions challenged not only state personnel transfers, but central judgments of right and wrong. Donglin sympathizer Grand Secretary Han Kuang commemorated a shrine with a line from the Book of Odes that had apparently appeared in a local ditty. “The song says: ‘The multitudes of the people are a wall’; the Sixteenth Century, 148, 150. One building of Wang Pan’s shrine still stands, about 50 feet long by 25 feet deep (Zhaoqing wenhua yichan). 35. As in the case of Yu Qian, DMB, 1611. 36. Shen Liang, enshrined for scaring his jurisdiction into good behavior and organizing them against roving rebels, was only one of many Ming officials to die of a court beating; 1533 SD Shandong tongzhi 27/262. 37. Fan Yan, “Stele Record and Poem for the Living Shrine to Prefect Hou [‌Donglai‌].” 38. Mingshi 16/178/4743. For Qin’s living shrine, Ming Wuzong shilu 61/5/155–57, for Hongzhi 18.9 jiashen (Sept. 29, 1505). Hung, Protest with Chinese Characteristics, calls “new” in mid-Qing, or at least rare earlier, protests such as “direct appeals to higher-level officials or even the emperor by travelling to the provincial capital or Beijing” (174). His conclusion rests on a word search for one term.



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the gentleman [‌lasts‌] ten thousand years.”39 Gentlemen could depend on the multitudes—if they had earned their approval. Support through shrines could play out on a national stage and address policy as well as personalities. In the decades after 1430, Zhou Chen was put in charge of reforming the harsh, corrupt, and inefficient taxation of the Yangzi delta, and with imperial support he managed to lighten the burden of transporting tax grain, hinder cheating by tax collectors, and store up grain against famines. His measures hurt the interests of tax captains, powerful families, clerks, and Revenue Ministry officials, and, when a new emperor came to the throne in 1451, impeachments forced him out of office.40 Despite imperial orders not to change Zhou’s policies, revenue officials impounded stored grain, and, when a famine hit the Suzhou area, the victims of hunger lined the roads, yet taxes were still demanded. According to the Ming His­ tory, people thought of Zhou Chen and set up living shrines everywhere to worship him.41 Wang Ao’s gazetteer reports that before Zhou’s death “people worshiped (shi zhu) him at the Tiger Hill [‌Chan‌] Temple and various places.”42 Perhaps they thought that Zhou’s image could provide them with cosmic representation over this issue of taxa­tion at the Heavenly court. Perhaps the shrines worked politically—to assert Zhou’s moral authority, to demand his pardon and return, and to plead for the reimplementation of his methods. The protest was against the locally powerful people who had undermined him but also against the central government that had acquiesced. The shrines to Jiang Yao were another example of public protest against state abuses of power. Jiang had battled eunuch and crony 39. The first line comes from Odes no. 254, an admonition to ruling-class men from one of their number, urging them to cooperate, support the ruler, and care for the people. Han Kuang, “Record of the Virtuous Governance of Mr. Li [‌Xuanyou‌].” For the rejection by powerful men throughout history of such shows of support, which themselves “contained the admission of the ongoing validity” of the importance of popular consent, see Wagner, “Early Chinese Newspapers,” 8. 40. Chan, “Chien-wen, Yung-lo,” 293, 296–97; Marmé, Suzhou, chap. 5. 41. Mingshi 14/153/4217. 42. 1506 NZ Gusu zhi 42/52b. For a picture of this temple, see Yinong Xu, Chinese City, 173. Wang Heming says that the living shrine to Yue Fei expressed the commoners’ support for him and opposition to the Jin invaders (Zhongguo citang, 227).

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power from the beginning of his career as a censor under Zhengde, submitting a memorial so fierce that the eunuch chiefs called him pure trouble, deserving no imperial response, and demoted him to prefect. He continued to fight evildoers at court. For protecting Yangzhou from requisitions for the Zhengde emperor’s southern journey, Jiang Yao was bound with chains and held for several days. “When the Yangzhou people saw [‌Jiang‌] Yao, they were all moved to tears, and, when he was transferred to [‌another post‌], they competed to give money to build him shrines.” The Ming History comments: “Yao’s reputation received a big boost from this.”43 The shrines were seen as a move in the competition between Zhengde’s cronies and his critics.44 Similarly, Han Yong had been active since 1465 in Guangxi, fighting Yao warriors and building institutions, when he was impeached and forced into retirement in April 1474 by officials and eunuchs whose take was threatened by his careful governance.45 “When he was slandered . . . at court,” residents of Guangdong and Guangxi remembered his service and ­regretted his departure, and they built shrines to worship him in, five years before his death.46 Posthumous shrines could also protest central actions.47 But when the man was still alive, there was a chance a shrine might help. A final case of living shrines in national politics was recorded by Matteo Ricci and also appears in the Ming History. Feng Yingjing was jailed in Beijing for protesting against a rapacious eunuch tax collector in Huguang. The people of the province responded by printing and 43. Wan Sitong, Mingshi 268/554; Mingshi 17/194/5153–54 copies Wan’s comment but omits, among other things, Jiang’s aiding nuns who were seized along with other women. A large, formal shrine was not finished until well into the Jiajing reign. Ye Xiang, “Record of the New Built Legacy of Love Shrine to Yangzhou Prefect Mr. Jiang [‌Yao‌],” recounts these events. Cf. Wang Heming, Zhongguo citang, 227. 44. 1461+ Da Ming yitong zhi 62/26: he also received a shrine in Jingzhou when he left his first post to mourn his mother. The enshrinement lasted; according to 1733 HG Huguang tongzhi, he is in the shrine in Jianglin County (the Jingzhou seat) to Prefect Liu along with several other officials. The shrine is also called the “Three Worthies Shrine” (despite holding four enshrinees). 45. DMB, 501–2. 46. 1733 GX Guangxi tongzhi 66/39a. 47. E.g., Mingshi 24/281/7206.



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disseminating commemorations of Feng’s good deeds and pictures of him for veneration, and by building shrines with his image at the altar.48 Clearly, the point was to protest his arrest and support his attack on the tax collector. Living shrines were a component in scholar-officials’ choice between immediate gain through acquiescing in abuses of power and long-term fame for protesting such abuses. Officials who stood up to Ming autocracy knew they might be celebrated, and not only by other elite men. They had a motivation to earn local honors as a claim to moral authority backed by the people. To be useful, a good local reputation had to be promulgated. A list of difficulties for magistrates included the following point: “If the commoners have seen your virtue, but the higher-ups haven’t yet heard, just let the circuit once get angry and you will be in a tough spot with no way out.”49 Since authorization of shrines was not required, it may be that permission was requested when publicity or official funding was the real goal. In a highly unusual case, “the Luo[‌chuan‌] people sent up Mr. [‌Chen‌]’s record of government (zhizhuang) to request to build a living shrine”—but they did so only after a circuit official had visited Luo­ chuan, and he attached a memorial to their application. An announcement went out: “All magistrates in the empire should model them­selves on the magistrate of Luochuan.” And the emperor personally ordered that the shrine be built. The shrine was destroyed by bandits sixty-eight years later, but the image was still majestic, and locals rebuilt the shrine within a month—even though the dynasty had fallen.50 Shrines were also publicized in collections of congratulatory texts like the one for 48. Gallagher, China in the Sixteenth Century, 205. Feng was imprisoned along with He Dongru. Discussing the dismal political climate, they decided the answer lay in reviving Taizu’s style of rule. Upon his release, He compiled a book on the subject. It documented Taizu’s insistence that the people’s security rested on resident administrators, who could win reputations as upright officials if they followed his instructions. He Dongru, Huangzu si da fa 3/30 (314), 3/40 (333). 49. Wu Zhihe, “Mingdai de xianling,” 13, 14. Rowe comments on the protective function of popular opinion and points out that in Qing times it could backfire (Saving the World, 71–72); Chen Hongmou, known as a populist, was also accused of pandering to the people. 50. Chen was also entered into the Xi’an Shrine to Eminent Officials. 1661 SH Luochuan zhi 1/24.

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Guo Zizhang mentioned above.51 Publication made shrines politically useful above the local level. Even when they could not help much, locals acted on the idea that it was their place to try. Magistrate Zhang Ji, a talented poet, had followers among the gentry sons but was also honest and close to the people and did not trouble them. When he bungled or was implicated in an unspecified public matter, elders wished to clear him with his superiors.52 Tribute Student by Grace Guo Lin was magistrate of Laiwu in 1582, when the county was suffering greatly from locusts and drought. He ran a bounty system, rewarding people with tickets for bringing locusts in, and led the local people on foot to pray. The locusts were put to rest, and the rain came pouring down: a good harvest resulted. But, “because he was stupid about giving gifts to his superiors, he was impeached and departed. His luggage was of the simplest [‌so it was not that he had been amassing treasure and withholding it from his superiors‌]. Several myriads of people of the county blocked the road, crying, to send him off, and later also set up a shrine to make offerings to him.”53 Such efforts by locals to protect officials signify even when they fail. In 1950, the historian Ding Yi argued that such a conventional demonstration of support for a magistrate against a powerful eunuch had, in 1482, begun the people’s organized struggle against the Ming dynasty’s “government by special agents,” despite its defeat.54 Local honors could empower both sides politically. They defined and instantiated what a good official meant locally. They could satisfy an official’s pride and his conscience, boost his career portfolio and his reputation, and support him in political trouble. By supporting an official in political trouble, local subjects asserted their right to comment on national issues.

51. Premortem shrines generated at least thirty of these in Ming times; those I looked at were unreadably sycophantic. Huang Yuji lists them (Qian qing tang shu mu 8/47–49). Posthumous shrines also generated such collections. 52. He escaped by leaving office to mourn his mother. 1581+SZ BZ Qinghe xian­ zhi, 74. 53. 1692 SD Ji’nan fuzhi 25/61. 54. Ding Yi, Mingdai tewu zhengzhi, 468.



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A Single-Issue Shrine to Incumbents The claim that shrines did political work for a local public must contend with the view of Hsiao Kung-ch’üan and others that shrines represented mere sycophancy, gentrymen buttering up an official who had done nothing for the broader public. That was sometimes true, and enshrinement of an incumbent was illegal precisely to prevent such malfeasance. Surely, gentry flattery must explain a shrine to ten incumbents in the secondary capital, who included very high ranking officials. At the start of a new reign in 1567, when personnel changes could be expected and gentry might be hoping for positions, the Group of Honorables Soaking Grace Shrine, just outside the south gate of Nanjing, honored officials from an assistant magistrate all the way up to the provincial governor and someone in the Ministry of Revenue. Composing the shrine record, metropolitan graduate Lu Bi had to work hard to justify the illegal and morally suspect enshrinement of incumbents, and so many of them at that. Truly or not, he presented the shrine as a payoff: a simple quid pro quo deal to reward officials who had helped a locality when they were supposed to be working for the central government. The inhabitants of Shangyuan and Jiangning, the counties whose neighboring hinterlands met in the city of Nanjing, had suffered so greatly under the burden of levies that they “almost did not know that there was joy in human life” until the ten-member team dramatically cut their tax and corvée responsibilities. Then, like Duke Shao’s subjects treasuring the Gantang tree, the residents wished to reciprocate virtue (bao de) “quickly” (su); and, like those just saved from fire or drowning, they wanted to recompense all who had played a part in their rescue. Once their sad wails had turned to happiness, “how could the people’s response wait until after they had left office? That is the reason the shrine was initiated. That is why the reciprocation was so comprehensive.”55 Public gratitude would admit of no delay and encompassed all who had helped. That sincerity, Lu Bi argued, meant that the law against enshrining incumbents could be broken without impropriety.

55. Lu Bi, “Record of the Group of Honorables Soaking Grace Shrine.”

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We could see this as mere rhetorical cover for a corrupt shrine. But the size of the honored group surely diluted the compliment. And, for flattery, the sponsors should have picked a different writer.56 With the exception of flowery versions of official titles, Lu writes in the plainest style I have seen. He explains the sufferings of the local population and then gives a no-frills account of the shrine. Perhaps time spent with horses had left its mark on Lu; he had been vice-minister of the Shaanxi Pasturage Office before retiring home to Jiangning, where he lived so that people rarely saw his face. He was a plain man and a plain writer, doing a straightforward job. The shrine is presented as simple repayment for a team effort to reduce the tax and corvée burden. Lu opens by saying that spirits illumine the living shrine and that the initiators (zuo zhi zhe) were the people (ren) of Shangyuan and Jiangning. Later he specifies: Now, in this matter, those who first raised it were the gentry and elderly commoners (qimin) of the districts, all together about 150 of them, but Student Zhao Shanji continued as leader, and thus the shrine was erected. There were Jin He and several other people involved, but Mr. Zhao was the most energetic. Today, there were several friends among those who visited to [‌ask me‌] to make a record, and they also said Mr. Zhao was the primary person. Mr. Zhao certainly had a task! It may be recorded.57

Leading this large group of people was Zhao Shanji, a government student at best, who left little trace in the historical record (if he was angling for a job, he failed). His name appears four times in the record, more than any of the officials enshrined.58 The shrine and stele exalted 56. A second stele with no recorded author, written a year and a half later, more than compensated for Lu’s restraint. “Continued Stele on the Building of the Soaking Grace Shrine” (1568), in 1593/1597 NZ Shangyuan xianzhi 12/77–82. 57. Lu Bi, “Record of the Group of Honorables Soaking Grace Shrine.” 58. A gazetteer biography of another enshrined official confirms the leaders: Student Zhao and elderly commoner Lu Xin and others led everyone (zhong) to build the “Soaking Grace Shrine” outside the southern (Jubao) gate to offer worship to all the various officials who had made contributions and shown virtue to the people. 1593/1597 NZ Shangyuan xianzhi 7/13. It is not clear how long the ten-man enshrinement



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him, expressed gratitude for reduced state demands, and safeguarded that reduction. Rather than representing corrupt intragentry flattery in hope of future favors, this enshrinement constituted a local counter­ offer to the blandishments of the central state. Zhang Juzheng no doubt had such shrines in mind when he complained a few years later about commoners’ priorities misdirecting state personnel, as I discuss below.

Blaming Officials A Song official expressed outrage at locals who enshrined their magistrates or staged demonstrations or hung posters lauding them, giving several reasons. Such people surely meant to demand favors from the magistrate in return and boast of their relation with him to their neighbors. It was not for subjects, but for bureaucratic superiors to judge performance in office. Demonstrations of support might provide cover for violence. And, he wrote, “how can one be sure that those who acclaim this district magistrate today will not some day throw bricks at him, stage a riot, and raise allegations against him?” If local approval was acceptable, demonstrations of disapproval would also seem legitimate, undermining state control.59 In Ming times, the repertoire of honors did slip easily into street protest mode. In the 1590s, the prefect of Songjiang was scheduled for a transfer after only three months. Suspecting foul play, residents hung placards on government buildings and the city wall, and blocked the city gate to symbolize their desire to retain him. For three weeks, until troops were sent in, crowds demonstrated in front of the prefectural office compound and even threatened the house of the retired official suspected of arranging the transfer.60

lasted, for this shrine is not otherwise listed in the gazetteer (there is a shrine of the same name on the other side of town). 59. McKnight and Liu, Enlightened Judgements, 78–80; also 105–6. Cf. Song Taizu’s milder worries about petitioners thronging the roads to ask the court for honors for officials (Chen Wenyi, “Cong chaoting dao difang,” 59). 60. Meskill, Gentlemanly Interests, 168–69. Street demonstrations played a role in the struggle between the Wei Zhongxian and Donglin factions. Dardess, Blood and History, 3, 51, 85–88.

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Political scientist Ho-fung Hung, who “defines an event of protest as collective [‌and‌] noninstitutionalized,” would accept this episode as “contentious action initiated by nonelite groups and directed at the policies or incumbents of the state and its agents.”61 But Hung’s definition bypasses living shrines. With no disorderly conduct, shrines as an institution empowered local people to pass not only a positive judgment, but a negative one on the administrators who had been delegated by the Son of Heaven to rule them and who might later receive final praise or blame in the official history. For honoring one official almost automatically signaled disapproval of his predecessors or peers. Disapproval of others was always implied in the honoring of one, and sometimes it was explicit. A departure stele of about 1530 remarks that in the whole dynasty Raoyang has had few wise magistrates; it names two in the Hongwu period and one in almost every subsequent era.62 All the rest are condemned by their absence. Han Kuang mentions that two or three preceding officials had tried, but failed, to deal with local difficulties aggravated by an earthquake.63 When Tang Ai left Nan’an, the commoners (baixing, says the gazetteer) set him well on his road, and, resting on the way back (says the stele) they said to one another, “From the time this official arrived at his post, there were no confusing, changing orders; there was no more disorderly government; there were no confusing, repeated levies; there were no clerks chasing and yelling; no jails clogged with the oppressed. Such pure, virtuous love has never before been seen in this office.”64 On the one hand, the record lauds Tang; on the other hand, it disparages earlier administrators, some of whom were certainly still alive.65 Steles could sting as well as soothe. 61. Hung, Protest with Chinese Characteristics, 47. 62. 1609 BZ Raoyang xianzhi 3/34 (85). 63. Han Kuang, “Record of the Virtuous Governance of Mr. Li [‌Xuanyou‌].” 64. Chen Rang, “Stele for the Premortem Shrine to Nan’an Magistrate Tang [‌Ai‌].” Tang’s shrine is recorded in the 1612 FJ Quanzhou fuzhi 10/884. 65. The stele author, Chen Rang, had been a poor, fatherless child who only took up study at eighteen; in office he governed benevolently; when he wrote this, he was back home, having been stripped of his ranks and degrees and made a commoner for reprimanding the Jiajing emperor about the way he had buried Empress Dowager Zhang. 1612 FJ Quanzhou fuzhi 19/1541–44; Geiss, “Chia-ching Reign,” 463.



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The poor governance of predecessors appears in a record that Nanjing Hanlin Academy Libationer Jiang Jinhe wrote in about 1565 at the request of a delegation from Hezhou, just across the Yangzi. The delegation comprised seven named teachers of various ranks from the Hezhou Confucian schools; a local juren named Ma Siqi whom Jiang wrongly calls a jinshi; about ten named government students; and five named “elderly commoners,” whom Jiang may have had wait outside. The group had prepared an accounting juzhuang (elsewhere such lists are called zhi zhuang or zhili zhuang) of all the good governance Song Jixian had carried out in Hezhou. The common people (baixing) of Hezhou had petitioned Nanjing to keep Song from being transferred to a ministry post in vain, so they had built him a shrine and wanted a stele essay. Jiang mentions that he had graduated with Song. He agreed to write in order to “soothe the yearning of the Hezhou gentry and commoners.” Whether he was drawing on the local disgruntlement or on his own cynicism after fifteen years in the secondary capital, Jiang then wrote that Hezhou still spoke of a few good officials in the past, but in recent years Song alone had been virtuous. In the vicissitudes of bureaucratic careers, Jiang complains, officials memorialize big plans for managing the times and regulating the nation, and consider diligent governance of one place not worth their while. But Song had paid attention to soothing and nourishing the people as if they were his own children and had done his utmost to manage expenditures on government matters as if managing his own household: encouraging students, carrying out the community libation ritual, restraining bad clerks, facilitating trade, and working on projects supported by the gentry and commoners.66 This critical stele went up in public in Hezhou and was copied into the gazetteer published only a decade later. It reflected well on Song, still alive in 1565 with a career ahead of him. But recent forerunners in office were also still alive to suffer by its disparagement. They seem not an especially bad lot—some were entered into the Shrine to Eminent Officials or are lauded as “benevolent” in the gazetteer list—but each stayed in Hezhou only a year or so before going to posts in the 66. Jiang Jinhe, Record “of Mr. Song [‌Jixian‌]’s Living Shrine.” Jiang was the thirdranked jinshi of 1550.

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ministries or as prefects. Their lack of commitment, contributing to clerkly misbehavior, may have been the target. More likely, however, Song looked good to locals by contrast with the administrator right before him: Chen Qiyu did stay in office for three or so years but then left because of an unspecified accusation.67 Whether they appreciated Song, resented the way juren rotated in and out of the post almost annually, or were bitter about Chen specifically, the delegation of mostly low-ranking local gentry and commoners had kept a list of everything Song had done and prevailed on his classmate to write up their judgment on him to be engraved on stone and placed at the premortem shrine they built. Locals were not shy about their views. One new Ming magistrate was astonished, in his initial audience with “the masses and community elders” (zhong lilao), to see an elder flashing a V-sign with his fingers. When questioned, the elder explained that, by asking first about money instead of about the people’s difficulties, the newcomer had already revealed himself to be a “second-class” official: hence the two fingers.68 But this was a onetime gesture; a shrine institutionalized such judgments. Donglin patron saint You Mao’s Song History biography reports that the clerks and people in You’s former jurisdiction, when he passed through, knelt around him saying, “This is our father and mother,” and erected a shrine to him. At that point, he was not their parent official; he had no standing there.69 What they were saying was that the incumbent fell short. The shared vocabulary of the repertoire of honors allowed them to send a clear message; and by adopting You Mao and the story, Donglin accepted the public’s claim to rightfully judge officials in this institutionalized form.

67. Chart of administrators, 1575 NZ Hezhou zhi, 312–24 for the Jiajing period before Song’s incumbency. I calculated the terms of office based on years of arrival, but the post may have been vacant at times, making for slightly longer terms. 68. Wu Zhihe, “Mingdai de xianling,” 15. 69. Chen Ding, Donglin liezhuan 1/13–14. The very extravagance of their welcome may have reflected that he was not truly a parent: in twentieth-century village society, parents and children did not say elaborate hellos and good-byes, because they suggested that separation was really possible (Stafford, Separation and Reunion, 3).



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Parents or Thieves? The ability of the repertoire of honors to express disapproval gave critics a public venue in which they could claim (truly or not) the support of popular opinion. Zhan Ruoshui, a friend of Wang Yangming, was active in the early Jiajing court, even though his works and the many academies he sponsored were proscribed in the late 1530s. In about 1525, when he still had high hopes for the Jiajing emperor, Zhan wrote a shrine record for a fellow Cantonese, Jixi magistrate Li Bangzhi. Perhaps aiming for a wide audience, Zhan used the essay to focus on corrupt government, a problem he tried to fix later in his career.70 (Indeed, a memorial of 1542 did echo Zhan’s language.)71 Zhan begins, “Living shrines are not ancient. Are they a sign of a decadent age?”72 They are, he answers, but not because they are improper. Rather, they were not needed in ancient times because then all officials were selected for their virtue. When one official left, residents knew the next one would care for them just as parentally; they hardly even noticed it, let alone missing a former magistrate. Now, however, those who select officials honor strength; most officials rob the people. Only now can they recognize the depths of parental care, when they get it. If one of those [‌officials‌] who rob the people is there, the people will say: “When is this thief going to leave here?”73 and they calculate that it has 70. See DMB, 36–39. Zhan Ruoshui was enshrined alive in 1534–35 at Jiuhua mountain by three officials wishing to commemorate his visit to the Buddhist temple there; 1938 NZ [‌Chizhou‌] Jiuhua shan zhi 6/3. Soon abandoned, Zhan’s shrine was rebuilt in about 1577, seventeen years after his death, with a temple to Wang Yangming—one on each side of the Huacheng temple. 71. Xu Wenjian, Libu kaogongsi tigao 3/172. 72. For another text raising questions about the legitimacy of the shrine it commem­ orates (not a premortem shrine), see Junghwan Lee, “Wang Yangming Thought,” 56. 73. This echoes Shangshu: “When wilt thou, o Sun, expire?” The people of Hsia were expressing their hatred of the tyrant Jie, who had once, when warned about his excesses, pointed to the sun and said that his position was as secure as that. Ye Baomin pointed out this allusion (Feb. 2, 2011). See Legge, trans., Shangshu, part 4, the Books of Shang, book 1, “Speech of Tang.”

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been already so-and-so many days, months, years: “He has been harming us for so long already!” At his departure, the people lead each other to follow the thief on his way, some pelting him with stones, some sweeping away his tracks. Anxious indeed! Only worried that he might come back again!74

Those who are like parents (naturally including the man commemorated) the people will try to retain, eventually building a shrine so they might feel as confident as if he were still nearby. Zhan argues that shrines are indeed a sign of a decadent age: one in which only rare officials treat people like their children. Now that most officials act like thieves, people treasure the few good ones.75 This stele by an elite intellectual, speaking in the voice of and for the people, does both local and national political work. The shrine and record, Zhan writes, will inform “coming generations” of administrators, presenting them with a stark choice between being loved as parents or hated as thieves. The engraved shrine record condemns all of Li’s forerunners, many of them still living and active. This very critical stele was by a state-approved author: four of Zhan’s works were published by the state.76 The fault lies with the higher bureaucracy for bad selection principles, Zhan charges. He does not take the next logical step of blaming the emperor; but in early Qing Huang Zongxi, son of a Donglin partisan, wrote that nowadays men hate the emperor, “look on him as a ‘mortal foe,’ call him ‘just another guy.’” 77 Bitter public condemnation of specific, often still living, officials and of central policy was not merely expressed in riots and brick throwing. Expressed in the voice of the common people, it stood in stone and in public, sacralized by the shrine it commemorated. In sum, living 74. Zhan Ruoshui, “Record of the Living Shrine to Jixi Magistrate Mr. Li [‌Formerly Magistrate of‌] Dongzhou.” 75. As Ye Baomin explained to me, Zhan adds a silly joke in his own voice about Li’s other name, Rusi: “Heehee! The world has no ‘Office of You’ [‌Rusi‌]. Rusi is just a name! Isn’t our generation lucky [‌to have had You in Office (Rusi)‌]?” 76. Brook, “Bibliography,” 192. 77. Huang Zongxi, Waiting for the Dawn, 92.



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shrines—so ordinary that we cannot count them—allowed the locality to court bureaucrats whose control by the state depended on them circulating out of the local posts and to judge as good or bad those set above them by the Son of Heaven. Living shrines required no official approval; sponsors of shrines skirted and even broke the law on incumbency; and stele writers justified their breaking it. In theory, shrines depended on the local populace alone for their propriety and longevity. And locals used them to pressure magistrates current and future and to tell them what policies would win local approval and compliance. They also added an emotional component to awaken administrators’ Confucian consciences and move them to choose local interests above those of the center. Did no one object to such autonomous local institutions? Did no one assert the unique privilege of the autocratic pivot of the universe and his bureaucratic delegates?

Objections The political role of living shrines was recognized—and deplored—in the Wanli period by Grand Secretary Zhang Juzheng, who was focused on reclaiming the sovereignty of the throne, centralizing power, and rebuilding the fisc. In a letter arguing that the regional inspectors of the Censorate and the grand coordinators actually in charge of governing should each stick to their due responsibilities, Zhang instances the case of Zhou Rudou. As regional inspector of Songjiang and Suzhou in the Jiajing period of pirate troubles, Zhou, Zhang writes, mistakenly believed those who complained about taxes in the area and got them reduced. Delighted, the gentry and the people built him a shrine. They also requested to retain him, but he was transferred from oversight to management. As grand coordinator of the same area, he had no choice but to reverse the earlier untenable fiscal policy, whereupon the gentry and commoners resentfully destroyed his shrine. You can see, Zhang writes, that, whereas techniques for creating happiness are easily exhausted, the desires of the mass of commoners (zhong shu) are difficult to satisfy. Better to work for the greater public interest and ignore their

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complaints.78 Zhang takes precisely the view one would expect of a fiscal centralizer, but his complaints show that regional officials were being swayed by the public’s unwillingness to pay taxes. Zhang’s objection was essentially practical, but arrayed against him was not merely a motley set of ad hoc actions by selfish constituencies. Rather, a consistent political theory supported the encroachment of popular judgment on state privilege. That theory appears in texts on Cai Chao’s premortem shrine. As assistant administration commissioner in Guizhou in 1516–18, at a time when Ming relations with some of the Miao had turned violent, Cai Chao had protected Qingping County in a major military clash. The Qingping people gratefully enshrined Cai, but at court the minister of war blocked his reward for the campaign.79 Tian Rucheng, serving in Guizhou, visited the living shrine of Cai Chao in 1536 and wrote a private essay on it to describe his emotional response to seeing the image of his fellow provincial Cai Chao, still alive at the time but whom Tian “had never met in life.”80 Without explicit explanation, he comments that what an official achieved could be “confused by officialdom but clear to the people, mistaken at the time but firm in later generations.”81 Tian Rucheng presented local views as wiser and truer than decisions by the center. His essay was private, not engraved, but the challenge that this political theory posed is clear in a public stele record for Cai Chao’s shrine written by a different man named Tian. Tian Qiu’s record, the first one engraved for the shrine, was written some thirty years after Cai’s departure and the shrine’s creation, and one year after Cai’s death in 1549, so the shrine had lasted a long time without text. Tian recounts the effective countermeasures, offensive and defensive, that Cai took to protect the people of the Qingping garrison, and how those people, young and old, all lifted their hands up to their foreheads saluting him and regarded him as having given them life again. When, after only a short time, Cai was transferred to Fujian, 78. Zhang Juzheng, “Letter Replying to Regional Inspector of Suzhou and Song­jiang Mr. Zeng Shichu.” Gazetteers present Zhou more positively, and a Shanghai shrine still appears in the 1743 Da Qing Yitong zhi 39/9. 79. Mingshi 17/194/5148. 80. Tian Rucheng, “Essay Praising the Image of Cai Chao in Qingping.” 81. Tian Rucheng, “Essay Praising the Image of Cai Chao in Qingping.”



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they could not forget him and made a shrine to him of three bays, within the city wall, with an image of him to which they offered food and drink. The record begins by questioning the legitimacy of the institution it celebrates. Living shrines are not ancient. The Record [‌of Rites‌] says: “Those who served the country diligently even unto death, those who by their labor secured the state, those who were able to protect the people from disaster and prevent great calamities—then they should have offerings made to them.” But the idea is that it should all be controlled by the authorities; it is not that officials receive them based on private feeling (si qing) and favoritism. Therefore, the lauding of the banks of the Qi and the cherishing of the Gantang tree also stopped at singing and missing, and we do not hear of worship (shi zhu) [‌of the living at the will of locals‌].82

The author of the record, Tian Qiu, raises two objections to living shrines. First, they were not built in antiquity. Second, enshrinement should be controlled by the authorities (yousi), to prevent enshrinement out of private feeling or favoritism. Popular yearning is fine; singing is fine; enshrinement goes too far. But, like other writers who raise such straw men as a rhetorical strategy, Tian rapidly answers his own objections. Like Zhan Ruoshui, he argues that shrines have arisen since antiquity because from Han and Jin onwards, officials’ administration has had its purity blemished—in the people’s feelings praise has been cut off. Therefore, when there is one official whose work is glorious, whose virtue soaks everything through, who shines before and behind, who stands out from the crowd, then following public feeling (yu qing) about him may not be prevented, and the matter attains to “arising from righteousness,” setting up his name in a Gone Yet Remembered or Legacy of Love [Stele or Shrine‌].83 82. “The lauding of the banks of the Qi” is from Odes no. 55, an Air of Wei praising a dignified, elegant, and magnanimous prince who never allowed rudeness to mar his clever quips. 83. Tian Qiu, “Record of the Renewed Building of the Living Shrine to Cai Chao.” Tian also mentions Yang Cheng and another historical example.

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In other words, since antiquity, most officials have been impure so that people do not honor them; thus, when a rare good official does appear, public sentiment recognizing him should be accepted, on the principle that new ceremonies may be permitted if they arise from a right impulse. The living shrine appears only in the age of flawed government. Since it is not controlled by the authorities, one could, Tian continues, malign it as “private” (si), but he has already invoked “public feeling” against that charge. He ends by likening the shrine to the postmortem shrines of two Tang luminaries who served in border areas.84 Local action, independent of the authorities, springing only from sincere local public opinion, was legitimized by the Classics and the long course of history. The autocratic, bureaucratic monarchy, some have argued, not only disenfranchised commoners, but even “denied [‌gentry‌] a political voice in the decision-making processes in their native places by empowering them politically only after they had passed the higher state examinations and left for a bureaucratic career elsewhere.”85 In contrast, Osabe Kazuo, reflecting one common strain in Japanese studies of Chinese local history, argued in the 1930s that premortem shrines demonstrated a degree of “self-government.”86 As I see it, the repertoire of honors, including shrines and steles, permitted criticism of the state by the governed. They might demand to be governed less, and not in particular ways, or to be governed more, and in particular other ways. This book does not address how often local public opinion succeeded in affecting local, let alone national, policy. The ways that shrines allowed Ming subjects to protest central state action, to support or criticize resident administrators past and present, to instruct future administrators, and to reward them for particular policies are important in themselves. Moreover, creatively building on the contradictions between the state’s Mandate of Heaven political rhetoric 84. See 1895 GX Maping xianzhi; and Miles, “Celebrating the Yu Fan Shrine,” for Liu Zongyuan’s and Han Yu’s posthumous shrines. 85. Brook, “Family Continuity,” 28; Chü, Local Government, 198. 86. Osabe, “Shina seishi shoko,” 39, 43, 44.



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and its exploitative practices, premortem rhetoric assumed and strengthened a political theory that locals had the right to pass judgment in these ways. Living shrines and steles further meant that the local right to political speech was not limited to ephemeral posters or onetime street protests but was carved in stone to stand in public places.

Chapter Five

From Flattery to Participation Prefect Zhao Zhonghui governed harshly and capriciously. He kept an enormous clay pot full of bamboo sticks in his courtroom and beat even some gentry with very thick bamboo for small offences, while sparing even some commoners who had broken important regulations. Aware of his failings, he enshrined himself to improve his reputation. When he fell dangerously ill, he sent someone to take a look at the shrine. His messenger found that the molded image of Zhao had already been smashed by locals and was lying exposed, all in disorder, outside the shrine. Mortified, Zhao died the following night. The gentry and people happily sent his corpse home. Within a few years, there were beggars among his sons and grandsons.1

K

ai-wing Chow argues that Ming populism sprang from the common people’s anger at exploitation by gentry and officials before appearing in intellectual circles.2 Chow argues that first “elite populists” like the Wang Yangming school and Lü Kun reached out to nongentry with “didactic” approaches premised on the idea that they could think, and then Classicism and the ritualism of the Donglin movement and the Qing reacted against this movement, perturbed that—unlike 1. 1550 BZ Guangping fuzhi 15/21. So as not to spoil the effect, the gazetteer omits a grandson who succeeded. Zhao’s biography reports laconically that he “died in office” in Guangping, his only post (1735 SX Shanxi tongzhi 134/58). 2. Chow, Rise of Confucian Ritualism, 18, 20.



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ritual—it allowed commoners to talk back.3 Anger at exploitation was explicit in the premortem genre (fig. 5.1). But so was another emotion, gratitude. Long-lasting appreciation of good officials was the flip side of the inexhaustible hatred commoners (xia min) expressed publicly for officials like Wan Min, who had been in the thick of a scandal in Taicang that led to the arrest of thirty-nine officials and elders.4 One departure stele for a magistrate who had spared his jurisdiction the violence and levies suffered by others in the area comments: In ancient times, a good official acted as a father and mother to the ­people, his grace and righteousness extending to all, and the people’s response to him would be as prompt as a shadow or an echo. Thus, while he was in office, they loved him; and when he left, they thought of him: naturally it was that way. An official who was not like that, while he was in office, they only feared he would not leave; and when he left, they only feared he would not go quickly. This is also a constant principle of emotions.5

As popular hatred and love were evoked precisely because both exploitative and beneficial governance occurred, so, too, were the contradictions and conflicts of enshrinement present together in premortem discourse. First, a man worthy of a shrine would refuse it, opposing the very people who wished to honor him. Second, every shrine had to combat the suspicion that it was initiated only by a small group, perhaps pressured or enticed by the honoree himself. Third, Ming people saw, all around them, the rapid failure of shrines promising eternal remembrance. James Farr has discussed how new political conceptions may come precisely from attempts—informed by logic, emotion, and interest—to resolve contradictions in practices, beliefs, and rhetoric.6

3. Chow, Rise of Confucian Ritualism, 13–14, 21–31, 87, 225–27; on the Donglin elitist reaction, 31–43. 4. Xu Wenjian, Libu kaogongsi tigao 3/171; 1548 NZ Taicang zhouzhi, j. 3. Wan also expanded the jail, in dramatic contrast to benevolent officials who emptied it, j. 4. 5. 1618+CZ+SZ BZ Cheng’an yi cheng, 544. 6. Farr, “Understanding Conceptual Change,” 25, 27, 28, 31.

Fig. 5.1.  Smashing the prefect’s image. A corrupt and incompetent Qing prefect arranges to pay toadies to set up a shrine to himself in a temple and to drum up a ceremony that will include removal of his boots. The disgusted public riots and smashes the shrine. The image is depicted on the ground with a broken arm as commoners (men in trousers) pummel it and gentry or students (in gowns) look on. The prefect escapes with his life. He is shown here in his sedan chair, with the members of the procession still in place, just before he takes to his heels. Source: Li Boyuan, Wenming xiao shi, chap. 11.



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In this case, I argue that the sheer obviousness of the self-congratulation and corruption possible in the repertoire of honors generated populist conceptions of political participation in the genre. Those conceptions in turn brought conservative reactions and a new proposed state form. This chapter will discuss the rhetorical valorization of local commoners’ adamance in the face of modesty on the part of the enshrinee and the classical justification for their disobedience, invoked by a ­Donglin man. It will show how premortem discourse responded to long-standing suspicion of premortem enshrinement, suspicion that had been embedded in Ming law, with arguments for the propriety of particular shrines based on broad participation and long survival. I will consider whether, in premortem discourse as appropriated by Donglin adherents, locals could judge wisely because the good official had transformed them. Donglin reactionary appropriations did not manage to erase more radical claims, including the possibility that the people did not merely recognize, but created, an official’s worth. Gu Yanwu’s proposals for bureaucratic feudalism, too, should be understood against the background of premortem discourse. All these modes of talking emerged from the well-recognized dangers of the abuse of power in the construction of shrines.

Modesty Meets Disobedience Popular deities frequently demanded bigger, more beautified temples and images.7 But when a living person heard that his enshrinement was proposed, he had to prove his moral worth by objecting, to mystify the fact that, as chapter 2 showed, locals enshrined officials for specific policies, rather than as moral exemplars. This set up a rhetorical dynamic in which pigheadedly grateful subjects overrode a modest refusal. Commemorating the shrine to Xie Shiyuan that Xie himself destroyed and the people rebuilt, Zhang Sheng wrote, “Living shrines for those of merit and virtue are established out of the sincerity of the people’s hearts-and-minds loving and admiring them. Even if one



7. Hansen, Changing Gods, 52–61.

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wishes to stop it, it cannot be done.”8 Chen Zu failed to stop his own shrine, which was planned by elders and built with labor from farmers, money from merchants, timber from traders, and tiles from potters.9 In this limited way, the premortem genre portrayed disobedient commoners positively. The positive portrayal of disobedience could be quite dramatic and correlated with cosmic forces. In a 1543 essay the reader may recall from the Introduction, Vice-Minister of Rites Wang Dao wrote that Prefect Chen Ru had saved Wucheng in a flood emergency, partly by obtaining an imperial order that the prefectural treasury pay the whole county’s tax bill, over 4,800 taels. “Old and young, women and children, led one another in shedding tears and burning incense, crying to Heaven, ‘His Honor has given us life—how can we repay him?’” When after eight years disaster recurred, Chen’s successor repeated his solutions, prompting more gratitude to Chen. Four years later, locals “planned with one another,” lamenting that the county knew Chen’s virtue, but the empire did not; he held a place in their hearts, but the younger generation did not know him. A shrine would display his virtue to those far away and to posterity. They sent a local tribute student to Chen in Shaanxi to explain their intentions. His Honor adamantly refused to permit it. The masses/everyone (zhong) did not just give up. They visited the county magistrate, Mr. Qiu Daoming, and announced [‌t heir intention‌]. Qiu told them to desist, saying, “You have raised your sincere righteousness, and His Honor’s opinion [‌is that he‌] does not want it. Why push it?” Again, they consulted with the local gentry-officials (xiang shidafu). The local gentry approved His Honor’s view and told them to desist. Still the masses did not want to quit. They sent [‌tribute student Liu‌] Xiqi to go and explain to the next prefect, Mr. Yu Zhi of Dangtu. Yu said urgently, “To turn one’s back on

8. Zhang Sheng, “Record for the Premortem Shrine to Prefect Xie [‌Shiyuan‌].” 9. Guo Xi, “Record of the New-Built Living Shrine to [‌Former Prefect‌] Mr. Heyang Chen [‌Zu‌],” 7a. It was said that this administrator only by chance heard of the plan to build the shrine, but some writers pooh-poohed the idea that any administrator could avoid hearing of it, insisting that he would certainly not forbid it but would be happy. Katō, Honpō seishi no kenkyū, 383.



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grace is inauspicious. Those who learn from the ancients will last for generations. Our people’s suggestion will not only reciprocate virtue, but also display a model. Those in authority, obey them.”

These pigheaded people whom those in authority should obey Wang Dao later calls husbandmen and old farmers (tian fu ye lao). They were more adamant than stone and bronze, he says, in their sincere response to Chen’s own sincerity, demonstrating that “the fundamental principle of all-under-Heaven is nothing more than movement and response” (gan yu ying: the key terms of correlative cosmology). These ordinary people disobeyed former prefect Chen, their current county magistrate, and the local gentry, persisting until a prefect finally supported them. Their perseverance in establishing this first shrine, Wang predicts, will ultimately win Chen a listing in the dynasty’s ritual roster and wider enshrinement.10 Disobedient commoners could be righteous in ways that reflected and contributed to the smooth operation of the political cosmos. This strange conception arose out of the uncomfortable gap between worthy modesty and its commemoration.

“Rites May Arise from the Right” Similarly, incumbent Weizhou subprefect Li Xuanyou heard that elders planned to erect a shrine to him and asked them to desist. According to the essay by Donglin ally Han Kuang, written in about 1624, Li made three arguments: first, that live enshrinement was counter to propriety (as mentioned above, he did not explain); second, that doing his best job was mere duty;11 and, third, that any accomplishments were due to his colleagues and others. But Weizhou elders overruled him. Citing the benefits the whole community down to women and children had 10. Further, Wang notes that this shrine was proper, whereas a Song prefect had been unable to prevent his portrait from being hung in a Buddhist temple. Wang Dao, “Record of the Living Shrine to [‌Dongchang‌] Prefect Mr. Chen [‌Ru‌].” The shrine included the successor prefect who helped in 1538. 11. A similar Tang objection apparently worked to stop a shrine. Lei Wen, “Tang­ dai difang cisi,” 34.

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gained from Ming rule generally, from the peace and prosperity of the Wanli years recently, and from resident administrators including Li specifically, they argued that “common people” (limin) had to be allowed to enshrine, or they would have no way to express their Gantang-style remembrance. Thereupon the beam men contributed lumber, and the potters contributed tiles; carpenters hurried to do their work, and strong men hastened to serve [‌with their labor‌]. In under ten or twelve days, the shrine was complete and His Honor was portrayed inside it. And the elders led their sons and younger brothers in haste to the building. They gazed up at [‌the image‌]: awesome! For they regarded him as divinely bright. They drew near [‌t he image‌]: kindly and approachable! For they regarded him as a father-and-mother.12

They regarded him as a father and mother: awesome, kindly, and not due obedience if one’s own conscience directed otherwise. Han Kuang approved their disobedience. He comments first on the procedure described in the Classics and then on Ming practice: I ‌have heard [‌i.e., read in the Record of Rites] that of old those officials who “demonstrated virtue and made meritorious contributions to the people” were all entered into the ritual statutes in an orderly way. Thus, these men were all made known to those above: permission was requested from the court, and the matter was discussed by Ministry of Rites officials. They followed the people’s wishing to sacrifice to them and sacrificed to them. Well, not waiting to request or for discussion but following the people’s wish to sacrifice to them by sacrificing to them— today’s officials all do it this way. The so-called Rites may arise from the right—is this [‌not‌] full and admirable virtue? For the residents of a jurisdiction to respect and repay [‌a good resident administrator‌] is proper.13 12. Han Kuang, “Record of the Virtuous Governance of Mr. Li [‌Xuanyou‌],” 564. 13. Han Kuang, “Record of the Virtuous Governance of Mr. Li [‌Xuanyou‌].” The Weizhou elders had sent a gift to Han Kuang to request the essay. Han also gives the



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Han argues that local-level officials acting at the request of local elders or even the people independently should, if they think best, build a shrine, even to an incumbent, without higher permission. Li’s successor came to Weizhou in 1623–24, so the stele was probably written just as Han Kuang’s conflict with the Wei Zhongxian faction entered a critical phase in 1624: having taken the Hanlin fast track to power and risen from vice-minister of rites to chief grand secretary, Han, as a Donglin fellow traveler, had already alienated Wei, and in December 1624 he retired in despair. If the essay was composed that late, Han was already at home in Puzhou, Shanxi, 400 miles from Weizhou, but with time on his hands—not yet dealing with the disasters of imprisonment and death that struck his family in 1625.14 His denigration of the approval process may reflect immediate disgust with the central government under Wei’s sway, or it may represent a deeper affinity with the Donglin belief in gentry sovereignty. In any case, this very conscientious minister of rites and grand secretary argued that a proper living shrine required no official permission, only sincere sentiment. The argument was only a more explicit statement of earlier practice and rhetoric, and in this case overrode the Ming Code’s ban on shrines to incumbents.

“How Could It Be Selfish?” The Ming Code insisted on real “governmental achievements” and proscribed “sending other persons to praise” oneself. For behind local honors there always lurked suspicion of pressure on subordinates and cronyism among gentry. A 1447 tomb inscription by scholar-official Wang Zhi directly addresses the charge that honors were “faked”— staged by a few sycophants, perhaps at the honoree’s behest—in a way that was common and whose political implications played out in the

names and dates of Li’s brother, an acquaintance who told him a bit about their family. Including family members is most unusual in premortem steles. 14. DMB, 483–85.

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genre over the course of the Ming period. In Nanjing, where Li Long served for eighteen years bridging the shift of the capital to Beijing, the people, whether noble or base, lowly or respectable, wealthy or poor, refined or coarse, with all their differences all respected and loved him like a father and mother. On the day he was ordered to return [‌to court‌], none did not wish to retain him, and, when it was not permitted, they all said, “His Honor is leaving! On whom shall we depend?” Those who saw him off, crying, formed an unbroken line along the road from the walls of the capital to the riverside. Mr. Li’s winning people over (de ren) was like this! How could this be faked 是豈以偽為哉?15

The response to suspicion of such drama was to point to the huge numbers of people of all kinds who participated. The early Ming “Placard of the People’s Instructions” had required that large numbers of locals concur in any honoring or chastisement of a county magistrate, and technically the “Placard” remained part of Ming law.16 The Ming Code article on shrines and steles neither required popular action nor outlawed action by gentry. Nevertheless, the idea developed that wide popularity was the guarantee of worthiness. One shrine record ends with a verse that invokes the parental metaphor next to the people’s will: “Like our father and mother, how could we not yearn [‌for him‌]? They say: ‘Make an image of his face, and set it up in a grand memorial shrine (fengci).’ They say: ‘Extol his virtue and display it in a deeplyengraved stele. . . .’ It was the people, so how could [‌t he shrines‌] be selfish 民則何私?”17 Broad-based commemoration of public servants as parents could not serve a selfish or private interest (si); it spoke for the commonweal (gong), and it guaranteed truth. This was the usual explanation for why some shrines failed and others survived: longevity lay in the people’s will. They responded naturally and gratefully to good governance

15. Wang Zhi, “Tomb Inscription for the Duke of Xiangcheng Mr. Li [‌L ong‌]” 33/2b. My emphasis. 16. Farmer, Zhu Yuanzhang, 202–3. 17. Xu Gu, “Stele Record of the Living Shrine to Mr. Fu [‌Pei‌].”



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and could not be fooled. Shrines not founded on their sentiments would fail.

Theorizing Shrine Failure Self-promotion and enshrinement of an incumbent were likely to go together, and both were prohibited by the Ming Code. One writer explained: “Subjects (min) who obey and submit before his eyes may be afraid of something, and thus there is still a selfish intention (si yi). Subjects who look back and think of him after he is gone, by contrast, do not care one way or the other, and so it is a pure feeling.”18 A magistrate’s tremendous power over individuals in the jurisdiction meant that he might force people to set up a shrine. Only once he was gone could they act disinterestedly, out of love rather than fear. Further, a shrine that was not based on real gratitude would not last once the official had left the jurisdiction. A departure stele warns, “Ah! The minds of a people oppressed by power can be forced, but the minds of the people after one has departed are difficult to bind.”19 Another record says: “I wonder at those today who enshrine the ‘lord of the country’ (bang jun). At the start, they keep the building in repair and model the image, coming thick and fast as clouds. But after only a short time has passed, the temple image has collapsed, the incense fires are silent and desolate, and the elders pass by without a glance.”20 Tu Long explained: in such cases, the official really had not won the people over very deeply. Even if locals had not been suborned into building the shrine, it was understood that a surface enthusiasm might wear off. Only deep gratitude and a commitment to reciprocity could sustain a shrine. A shrine might suffer worse than neglect—building or image might be attacked, as in the anecdote, presented as true in a local gazetteer, that opens this chapter. When subjects attacked Zhao Zhonghui’s image, their dramatic criticism, in the resonant cosmos, killed him. And it 18. 1515+1541 BZ Changyuan xianzhi 9/57. 19. Zhao Minshuo, “Stele Record of the Virtuous Governance of Yuanshi County Magistrate Mr. Zhang [‌Dujing‌].” 20. Tu Long, “Stele for the Shrine to Ning[‌hai‌] Magistrate Mr. Yan [‌Yuzhang‌].”

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was their intentions that were effective, for, when righteous incumbent Xie Shiyuan had destroyed his own shrine and toppled his own stele, he felt fine.21 These common understandings underlie a theory of shrine failure presented in a gazetteer. The straight-talking Chen Fei, jinshi of 1535, a magistrate in the next prefecture south of Guangping in Beizhili, compiled Guangping’s gazetteer, expressing typical concern about improper worship typical of the time and genre. Above reproach are the Shrines to Eminent Officials and Local Worthies as well as others placed in the gazetteer’s chapter on schools (juan 5). The introduction to the chapter on altars and shrines ( juan 6) draws on the ­Record of Rites to banish Buddhist and Daoist temples to an appendix while justifying the altars required by the dynasty, the City God temple, and “the various shrines.” All of the latter both “respect the dynasty’s system” and “express the people’s yearning”: two bases for acceptable worship.22 After the entry for “each county’s living shrines” (there were two in Cheng’an, one in Qinghe), Chen admits that living shrines were not a classical institution and could be abused by incumbents. But neither fact renders the whole institution invalid. Someone once asked [‌Han scholar‌] Master Yingchuan, “Do living shrines accord with ritual?” The master replied: “They are a case of how rites can ‘arise from righteousness.’” The person replied, “Are they ancient?” “I have never heard that they existed in high antiquity, but from middle antiquity, yes.” When Shi Qing of Han was the minister of Qi, the people of the country admired his behavior and enshrined him upon departure. Luan Bu had charge of Yan, and the people of the country followed his purity and enshrined him upon departure. There was no case in which the person had not yet departed [‌t he jurisdiction‌] and was precipitously enshrined.

21. Grateful locals restored the shrine after he departed. Fu Weilin, Mingshu 28/11, and Guo Tingxun, Benchao fensheng renwu kao 70/12. 22. 1550 BZ Guangping fuzhi 7/1.



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If, indeed, there were such a case, then if not flattery it would mean [‌t hat the enshrinee‌] had urged it on.23

Chen evinces two cases from the early Han period, as recorded in the Shiji, to insist that incumbents were enshrined only if they themselves instigated it or if others intended to butter them up. These two worries were precisely why the law outlawed shrines and steles to incumbents. Chen goes on to give a faux-philological explanation that equates shrines with long-hallowed examples of other items in the repertoire of honors, the Gantang tree and the very moving stele commemorating gratitude to Yang Cheng, who stopped an imperial demand for a tribute of dwarves. Although there may be such cases, to “enshrine” (ci) is to yearn for (si). When a gentleman gives his all in serving as our official, the grace soaks into the people’s hearts, the congratulations continue with their sons and grandsons, and his achievements are recorded in history. Thus, the not cutting of the wood [‌of the Gantang tree‌] and the shedding tears at the stone [‌for Yang Cheng], although they [‌Duke Shao and Yang Cheng] were not enshrined in a building, were really already the mind-heart of enshrining.24

It is the sentiment of the people rather than the particular form in which they express it that matters. Finally, Chen explains that shrines based on collusion and sycophancy may be built but cannot last. He evinces the destruction of Di Renjie’s living shrine: If, rather than proceeding from [‌popular‌] “yearning,” enshrinement comes from a man’s followers, I have seen that, as soon as he leaves, the image immediately is also expelled, and in a short time the building is also destroyed. [‌For instance‌] although Di Renjie was enshrined, when his son succeeded, he was not the same type and could not hold their

23. 1550 BZ Guangping fuzhi 7/7b. 24. On Yang Cheng’s “Shedding Tears Stele,” see Owen, Remembrances, 22–32.

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esteem, and [‌t he shrine‌] ended. How much more so for someone who is no Di Renjie! Ah—ought one not to be very cautious in this business of making living shrines?25

According to this conception, shrines sponsored by partisans rather than “public opinion” must fail once an official left. Not to speak of neglect, they could be actively destroyed. Yuan and Qing law both specified that improper living shrines should be demolished.26 Ming law did not, and the Ming state, which closely controlled honors for widows, postmortem enshrinements, entry into the Shrine for Eminent Officials, and the like, more or less left premortem shrines up to the locality. That indifference was theorized as proper: only the locals could judge who deserved enshrinement, and only their continuing thought and gratitude could ensure that shrines would neither fall into neglect nor be demolished out of hatred. Nor was this theory limited to the premortem shrine genre; it appeared in a county gazetteer.

Transforming Mind-and-Hearts What could give commoners the right to pass judgment on those whom the Heaven-mandated ruler of the world had delegated to govern them? The key may lie with an expression that on the surface refers only to an official’s popularity, as a way of justifying his shrine: namely, that he had “won people over” (de min), an expression taken from Mencius.27 This expression evokes a deeper, transformative connection. An official’s virtue (de) created a bond with the subjects in his jurisdiction, so that his image could take in their offerings, just as an adoptive parent could receive ancestral offerings because his virtue 25. 1550 BZ Guangping fuzhi 7/7b. 26. Chen Wenyi, “Cong chaoting dao difang,” 62; Xu Ben, Da Qing lü li 17/12a. 27. Mencius speaks of firmly establishing the state by obtaining the people, specifically obtaining their minds-and-hearts, that is, winning their long-term allegiance rather than just their wealth. Mencius Li Lou I.9 and Jin Xin I.14. One source marvels, “The people feared the promotion and departure [‌of Liu Yuantai‌] and competed to memorialize high officials to keep and retain him. His winning people over was like this!” 1593/1597 NZ Shangyuan xianzhi 7/16.



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(de) had transformed the adopted child to resemble him.28 As Osabe argues, the shrine in itself evinces the administrator’s transformation of the people.29 The deep connection with a Confucian official changed people. He could “mold their temperament.” 30 Some records say local people still did things the way the administrator had taught them, long after he had left.31 As one gazetteer puts it, “The people responded to his transforming.”32 I speculate that, when a parental official metaphorically adopted the people, he influenced them so that they could respond (gan) with sincerity resembling his sincerity, even with rational judgment resembling his judgment. This influence might have been theorized as enabling local commoners to act morally and thus politically, even justifiably passing judgment on officials. Building on this line of thought, Donglin founder Gu Xiancheng wrote a record for a shrine to a departing official, Cai Xianchen, an upright official who had clashed with the Wanli emperor as a new jinshi but ultimately won his respect. The shrine was questionable, because Cai was not a resident administrator but a surveillance official of a military circuit in the Suzhou area. Gu begins, therefore, with a (presumably imaginary) conversation that Cai had with himself upon being appointed. Cai argued to himself that the Suzhou area was notoriously difficult to govern; that the way to do it was first to strictly watch himself; next to rein in official corruption and negligence; and finally to help and correct the people. Cai’s conversation with himself aligns his mission with the livelihood concerns appropriate to honored magistrates and conjoins them with self-cultivation and a step-by-step approach appropriate to a Confucian. Gu’s essay then describes Cai’s main achievements; how the elders successfully petitioned to retain him for another term, to the great joy of women and children; people’s sense of loss when he finally had to depart; and how they followed him and tried to bring him back. When that failed, they thought that, if they built a shrine with his image in 28. Waltner, Getting an Heir, 68–69, 18, 74–75. 29. Osabe, “Shina seishi shoko,” 41. 30. Zhao Minshuo, “Stele Record of the Virtuous Governance of Yuanshi County Magistrate Mr. Zhang [‌Dujing‌].” 31. E.g., Yin Shidan, “Record of Building the Shrine to Mr. Xu [‌Kui‌] Loyal Purity.” 32. 1684 FJ Fujian tongzhi 31/1–3, 32/10b.

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it, offering him service from time to time, it would be like having him longer. So the gentry and people joined together, built a shrine with contributions from a named merchant, and asked Gu for an essay. “When I started [‌to write this‌], I sighed, saying: ‘Impressive! Mr. Cai’s virtue really went deep into people!’ After a little, I said: ‘Impressive! How deeply the various elders planned for themselves!’” Gu connects the influence of Cai’s virtue with the ability of elders to think things out for themselves. We might see this as a positive extension of transformation to an argument that commoners can think, or we might see it as a reactionary Donglin assertion that commoners can think only when led by gentry like Cai. When asked for explanation by one of those who requested the essay, Gu replies that there are three points. “For one thing, expressing that they ‘missed him after departure’: they use this to comfort themselves. . . . And then again, in signaling to those [‌officials‌] who will come, so that they follow Mr. Cai.” Gu refers to the qusi genre and to the way that placing an image in a shrine they can visit makes people feel better, as if they could almost see the man himself. This is a reminder of the sentiment at the heart of shrine discourse. The shrines also instruct later officials to imitate Cai’s policies so they too can earn popular support. Gu also asserts his local pride, bucking central government classifications of the counties. With an allusion to the Odes, Gu argues that, in fact, Suzhou people are deeply ethical: Then, they made it known that the heart-minds of the people of our Wu all “grasp the ritual steamer” (bing yi), affirming what is right and denying what is wrong, without a shred of confusion or concealment; they ought not alone [‌in the empire‌] to have the reputation for being difficult to govern!33

Ode 260, “Heaven gives life to the multitudes of the people,” celebrates how Heaven’s moral regulation inheres in all, even commoners (zheng 33. Cf. Tang Zhen’s comment in about 1704: “Everyone thinks it is the people who are hard to govern. They fail to realize that what is difficult to govern is not the people, but rather the officials.” Delury, “Despotism,” 138–39.



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min, lit. “the people who steam” offerings). As translated by Legge to reflect traditional commentary, the ode suggests that it is because the people “grasp the ritual steamer,” which he translated as “possess this normal nature,” that they can love virtue. Gu is arguing that Suzhou folk are good enough to respond to good governance and should not be insulted with the classification “difficult to govern.” If we trace back, it was because of the way Mr. Cai managed himself that he managed the officials so that everyone carefully did his duty. If we trace back, the way that Mr. Cai managed the officials meant that, as he managed the people, every one adhered to his proper role. If [‌future officials‌] do it like this, only then will we truly have Mr. Cai for a long time! The various elders’ planning for themselves—is it not profound? Is it not profound?34

The idea that good officials “transformed” the people under them may have laid the groundwork for a claim that local people could act and organize politically for themselves, wisely and properly. That in turn meant that even Donglin and other elitists who really believed they knew best could draw on the populist strains of the premortem genre to claim authority for gentry.

Donglin Populism In another adoption of premortem populism, Li Biao wrote in his 1642 record for a shrine to outgoing Magistrate Zhang Shenxue: I have seen, on a day when [‌an official‌] occupies the seat of power, the gentry and commoners singing about meritorious service and chanting about virtue; [‌I have seen‌] that seat not yet cold and the steles already fallen, the incense extinguished. This corrupt custom is all too common— contemptible!35 34. Gu Xiancheng, “Record of the Living Shrine to Mr. Cai Xutai [‌X ianchen‌].” 35. Li Biao, “Gone Yet Remembered Record of the Benevolent Magistrate of Yuan[‌shi‌] Mr. Zhang [‌Shenxue‌] Quzheng.”

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Li begins with an apparent contradiction. Government in earlier times was good, yet few good officials are recorded; now government has declined, yet claims about officials being good are rife: I have read that when the Grand Astronomer [‌Sima Qian‌] recorded his “upright officials” not too many were to be seen, and then in Han the number of good officials also could be counted on one’s fingers. Our age, however, is not like this. Counties do not lack shrines, and people do not lack steles. How could it be that government has fewer successes than in antiquity, yet good officials exceed those of antiquity? Is it, perhaps, that in a degenerate age, it is easier to carry out benevolence, or are there more who notice virtue [‌in such an age‌]?36

Li goes on to explain the apparent contradiction by widespread flattery of incumbents, which multiplies steles and shrines. How do the honors granted Zhang Shenxue, which Li is commemorating, escape Li’s contempt? First, Zhang has already departed the county (in fact, he had left earlier the same year and co-compiled the gazetteer containing the record). Since he is gone, the “oral steles” (kou bei) that persist and the sighs of longing show that the people absorbed his soaking virtue, as in the Gantang ode. Second, Li writes that he himself has overseen many officials, and, since he lives just down the road in Gaoyi, he knows the track record or “dossier” (zhi zhuang)—a bureaucratic term Li uses throughout this piece—of every Yuanshi magistrate. In Zhang’s case, not only did he rebuild many institutions, stabilize livelihoods, and go on foot to pray for relief, but, when he took office in 1639, he fortified the town and organized forces to defend against the bandits sweeping north China. In other words, Li shows that Zhang truly had—in the words of the Ming Code—“governmental achievements” to his credit. Third, after describing Zhang’s work at length, Li writes: “I had heard all this, but seeing it once beats hearing it a hundred times.” So he traveled around the villages of Yuanshi (all lovingly laid out on the 36. Li Biao, “Gone Yet Remembered Record of the Benevolent Magistrate of Yuan[‌shi‌] Mr. Zhang [‌Shenxue‌] Quzheng.”



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gazetteer’s map) and saw for himself how good institutions and the local ethos (fengsu) had become: the students all solemn and serious, sounds of recitation in the lanes. Fourth, he went into the fields to interview the elders (fulao), hearing from their own lips how Zhang had provided oxen and well-sweeps. “Rarely indeed have I seen such things,” he writes; and, being by nature unwilling to cheat people, “I especially have narrated plainly what I have seen and heard to make a record.” Returning to his starting point, he says it was just such officials that the first historian, Sima Qian, recorded; if the dynasty set Zhang up as a model, the whole empire would be orderly. Indeed, the dynasty had recognized Zhang, transferring him because of his demonstrated competence.37 Li closes the circle by distinguishing Zhang’s honors from those granted incumbents and withdrawn as soon as they leave: “I rejoice in His Honor’s virtue, which can command people’s yearning even after he is gone; I rejoice in the Yuanshi commoners’ long nonforgetting, from which we can see the honesty of their ethos.”38 So, although Li decries the proliferation of honors, he justifies Zhang’s by his nonincumbency, by his documented accomplishments, by Li’s seeing those accomplishments with his own eyes, and by the testimony of the farmers in the fields, ploughing with the very oxen Zhang had given them. Such proofs of competence and popular favor mean the shrine is proper and will last. This argument by a minister of rites and Donglin partisan developed out of earlier Ming writing on living shrines that tied shrine survival to legitimation through the popular will. Those ideas in turn originated precisely as a rhetorical response to concerns about coercion and corruption, a response that had weight because of a much larger, more anonymous body of local practice of the repertoire of honors. When Donglin members and their rivals both claimed moral and political authority through premortem shrines, they drew on a political theory of popular decision making created by many writers and those 37. Li Biao, “Gone Yet Remembered Record of the Benevolent Magistrate of Yuan [‌shi‌] Mr. Zhang [‌Shenxue‌] Quzheng.” 38. Li Biao, “Gone Yet Remembered Record of the Benevolent Magistrate of Yuan [‌shi‌] Mr. Zhang [‌Shenxue‌] Quzheng.”

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who had commissioned them to write. Pan Ruzhen’s initial sycophantic request that eunuch dictator Wei Zhongxian be enshrined alive lauded Wei for having the good of the people and the dynasty at heart and claimed that recent aid to Zhejiang had everyone singing and dancing to honor Wei’s inexhaustible virtue. “The public (gong) requests to build a shrine,” Pan continued, “where they can go to pray for blessings (zhu li).” The edict of approval responded, “It is right to follow the ­request of the masses (yi cong zhong qing).”39 This language sounds familiar now. On the defensive against Donglin attacks, the Wei faction arrested and pilloried Donglin partisans in public, appealing to the Ming populace to validate the purge, so it could move on to resolving practical problems.40 In part by opposing the shrines, the public denied Wei and the court that validation. The Donglin faction, for its part, having failed to convince others that partisan organizing was a legitimate means of carrying on political life, turned to claiming to derive its just powers from the unforced collective recognition of right and wrong by “every man and woman in the realm,” which they often called “public opinion” (gonglun and related terms). They countered charges of factionalism by claiming the common people as their constituency and recounting how the outrages of the Wei faction and the arrests of Donglin men aroused mass protests.41 Miller writes, “Representing the public was what the struggle for sovereignty was all about.”42 He offers quotations from Donglin men who (like many democratic politicians today) did not actually care what ordinary people thought yet said things like: “When the people’s sentiment is lost, the Mandate of Heaven goes with it”; and “the commoners are the time-honored sovereigns of the [‌one‌] who is the sovereign of the people.”43 These political conceptions drew from a long rhetorical practice of countering charges of self-glorification and sycophancy with claims of local popularity, using the repertoire of honors 39. Wen Bing, Xianbo zhishi, 103. 40. Dardess, Blood and History, 49. 41. On the failure to legitimate party politics, see Elman, “Imperial Politics,” 390–91, 393–96. On public opinion, see Dardess, Blood and History, 3, 7, 51, 85–88, 124; Harry Miller, State versus Gentry, 71. 42. Harry Miller, State versus Gentry, 59. 43. Harry Miller, State versus Gentry, 90, 70–71.



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to “prove” the worthiness of the officials upon whom the regime depended. It only stands to reason that both rival factions built living shrines.

Mystifying the Quid Pro Quo Despite their appeals to popular opinion, the Donglin men were, in Dardess’s words, “monarchical and authoritarian to the core.”44 Enshrinement could be a very explicit quid pro quo. When two Tang ­officials appeared in a dream to demand the rebuilding of their very efficacious temple, Judge Zheng Liangbi led the effort to do so. The gazetteer reports that, “at the time that the rebuilding was completed, Chaoyang residents, considering that Mr. Zheng had contributed (you gong) to this temple, made a shrine for him at the porch. . . . Enshrining Mr. Zheng was mainly because of the one matter of making the temple.”45 A commemorative record by a local gentryman reiterates, “The reason for enshrining Mr. Zheng alive was his being the first to follow the wishes of the people.”46 Likewise, according to the annals section of a gazetteer, “the gentry and commoners established a living shrine to make offerings to [‌Gaozhou prefect Kong‌] Yong, recording his merit in doing six things.”47 The leveling implications of such discourse made the Donglin faction uneasy. In about 1615, at the request of his Hui’an townsmen, Education Intendant Luo Risheng composed a record for a living shrine that ­illustrates gentry discomfort with the people’s ability to pass judgment on resident administrators at the same time that it reports and even supports that ability. Magistrate Chen Cong responded quickly when a flood wiped out all the bridges in this watery area of Fujian in one day, gathering contributions and labor and appointing government student Wu Zhenyuan to oversee the rebuilding of a key bridge about seven miles from the county seat. When it was complete, the “fathers 44. Dardess, Blood and History, 7. 45. 1572 GD Chaoyang xianzhi 10/7a. 46. Lin Dachun, “Stele Record for the Rebuilding of the East Mountain Lingwei Temple.” 47. WL GD Gaozhou fuzhi 7/entry for Chenghua 2.

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and elders, sons and younger brothers” who used this bridge as a road all excitedly went repeatedly to see it, saying that in his rebuilding of the bridge he had not troubled the people. Because he was so diligent and because the benefit to the people in being able to cross back and forth was so great, they said, “We cannot not enshrine him in this place.” So they went to local gentryman Luo Risheng to request an inscription to record it. Luo—who very much identifies as a gentryman in the way that Donglin scholars did, referring to scholar-officials in retirement in Huai’an as “our sort” (wu dang)—comments on his own knowledge of Chen: as a youth he admired Chen’s forceful essays; then he learned of his good work, all gentry priorities such as renovating the school, sprucing up the Confucian temple, purifying improper worship, holding a ceremony to honor the aged, and so on. He reassures himself, or perhaps reassures his audience of “our sort,” as follows: That the people danced and sang and enshrined His Honor at the side of the bridge was really to complete this meaning, not because of the bridge alone. Confucius said: “This people: it is for them that the Three Dynasties carried out the straight way.”48 When the people rely on those above for their lives, how can they lovingly return that feeling? Here is how: when one day the official leaves the place, they think of and enshrine him, expressing their thought (xiang) through an image (xiang). While he occupies the office, they make him a stele with their mouths (kou bei). Having soaked in his flourishing virtue and waded in the waves of his grace, they wish to have a way to transmit it and not let someone ruin it. For this reason, whether one “practices drawing close to them” lies in providing them with benefit or harm, promoting or eliminating [‌t he two‌]. Well, this practicing to draw close to them [‌on the part of the magistrate‌] and thinking of and portraying [‌on the part of the people‌] both emerge from one person’s being unable to stand alone. It is not that they have joined together in collusion. This is just what is called the “straight way” of antiquity.

48. Analects 15.25 refers to objective praise and blame as “a straight road” (zhi dao). Luo sets up the allusion by having “fathers and elders, sons and younger brothers” dao the bridge: use it as a road. The allusion recurs a few lines later.



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Today His Honor has been memorialized as excellent, with the emperor in charge of the reckoning, and Former Censor-in-Chief Yuan has written a statement of recommendation, properly putting our county first. This being so, His Honor’s fame was established beginning here, so how could there be a time when our people’s yearning for and looking to his demeanor could lessen? [‌As they‌] danced and sang, how could I not yield to the fathers and elders, sons and younger brothers? So I did not refuse but made a record for them.49

The commoners themselves explicitly stated (as Luo faithfully reported) that the shrine repaid Chen for rebuilding the bridge quickly and cheaply. But Luo slathers on the words to assure Confucian readers that Chen filled out the whole picture of an exemplary resident administrator, right down to purifying “improper” popular worship: he was the sort education intendants praised, not a mere servant to the people. Luo denies that the bridge alone makes Chen worthy, even though the shrine is there. He insists on a holistic relationship between the magistrate and the commoners: they have drawn together because of the human reality that no one can stand alone. It certainly was not that Chen did something the people wanted, as they wanted it done (i.e., with gentry contributions rather than forced labor and tax money), and so they rewarded him as if they were his superiors. Any suggestion that Chen was answerable to the people may have been especially troubling here because Chen still held office when the people built the shrine and engraved the stele. Luo’s quotation from the Analects seems to refer to the flattery problem, but, rather than defend­ ing Luo from (hypothetical) charges of flattering Chen, it recognizes that people have taken the assessment and reward of their administrator into their own hands and attempts to counteract that by romanticizing the relationship.

49. Luo Risheng, “Record of the Living Shrine to [‌Hui’an Magistrate‌] Mr. Chen [‌Cong‌] on the Restored Jieshi Yongji Bridge.” Luo patronized a close-knit group of four students, one of whom later criticized Wei Zhongxian in an examination essay and one of whom much later, in 1638, allied with Donglin. 1737 FJ Fujian tongzhi 45/49b; Mingren zhuanji ziliao suoyin, 121; DMB, 139, 1540.

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The People’s Choice The people bear witness to good governance. Yet is it that officials are enshrined for their merit, which the people recognize? Or are they enshrined because they are the people’s choice? The people did not merely recognize and thus evince the worth of resident administrators. In the most extreme formulations, their feelings for him constituted his worth. A 1598 departure stele (which by social norms did not require commoners, because no shrine was yet being built, though the author predicts that one would be built) explains: When His Honor was in office in Huai, he molded their temperament, but if we investigate and think it over, there was nothing he wanted from the people. When His Honor departed Huai, they rubbed their heads asking themselves how to reciprocate his grace, unable to bear to forget this lord. His Honor greatly won over the people (de min); the people did not turn their backs on His Honor. The official history will record among the “upright officials” this mutual flourishing at this time. 50

It is not Zhang’s governing actions, objectively measured, that make him worthy of praise—it is the judgment of the local people. Even very high officials like Hanlin scholar and minister of rites Li Chunfang made this kind of argument. Li’s 1580 shrine record for Wang Sanyu followed genre conventions by invoking the parental metaphor and the Gantang tree; met a requirement of the Ming Code by presenting Wang’s way of planning governance as “real” (shi); and ­argued that the shrine itself could be an instrument of governance by fulfilling or expressing the feelings of the people.51 The feelings of the people create good governance, as people’s support for deities produces efficacy. By the seventeenth century, the populist strains in the premortem genre had developed to the point where it was conceivable that the people were not only the judge, but the very source of an official’s 50. Zhao Minshuo, “Stele Record of the Virtuous Governance of Yuanshi County Magistrate Mr. Zhang [‌Dujing‌].” 51. Li Chunfang, “Record of the Living Shrine to Mr. Wang [‌Sanyu‌].”



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effectiveness. Local gentryman Hou Zhenggu’s stele for his fellow-year graduate Magistrate Wang Yuanyi, written in about 1605, recounts the kinds of actions shown to be favored in chapter 2 but conceptualizes them more completely. He uses the phrase yu min, a phrase probably made by analogy with the Guoyu’s yu ren, defined as “according with the people to win their hearts,” just as yu tian in the same source means “acting in accordance with the way of Heaven and gaining its assistance.”52 Yuncheng County, according to the stele, had fallen on hard times, and few had the ability to deal with its problems. I am not sure whether Hou’s phrase wu min means “all of us” or “the common people of our county”: “Mr. Wang spent six years with our people/us people (wu min), cherishing them/us like infants. He accorded with what they/we wanted and took charge of all aspects of administration himself.” The stele recounts the various ways in which Mr. Wang avoided troubling the people and burdening them with unpaid tasks and sums up his first point: “These are all ways in which His Honor united himself with the people.” Second, every day Wang discussed matters with “our people,” and he admonished and taught them to have harmonious relations in a number of ways, including publicly posting the names of the worthy and the unworthy. Hou comments: “This was how he united the people with the people.” Third, Wang built bridges, opened fields, and sincerely prayed by dancing the pace of Yu, receiving a response in the form of sweet rain: “This is, further, how His Honor prayed to Heaven to unite with the people.” Fourth, he also made three requests to his superiors in the bureaucracy: to keep the charitable granary open to prepare for migrants, to give out aid to help the poor, and to boil congee to feed the starving. The three requests were all approved. Hou will not state explicitly that Wang got the bureaucracy to “unite (or accord) with” the people, but that would be the obvious parallel claim. The placement suggests that winning bureaucratic cooperation was even more astonishing than moving Heaven. Fifth, Wang also worked on 52. Hanyu da cidian 2/159. Hou may have been thinking of the Mencius and other places where yu min means something more like “sharing [‌pleasure or profit, good or bad luck‌] with the people,” which does not fit this context. The yu here must be a full verb, something like “uniting with,” so that is how I translate it.

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schools and upper-level education, and built the Wenchang shrine (where one prays for examination success) and a shrine to loyal officials: “All this united the faces of a thousand years with the people.” Hou concludes: “And how can the people unite with him? The people can do no better than to put virtue into office by worshiping (ren de shizhu) and to engrave a pure stone, having me make a record to preserve the basic facts.”53 In the unified political cosmos, Wang accorded with the people by being sure they were not troubled; he focused on harmony and good relationships in the community so people accorded with themselves; he managed the landscape and the weather so Heaven accorded with the people; he managed the bureaucracy so the government accorded with the people; and he spread education and shrines centered on the learned so the people accorded with the great tradition. All this he was able to do precisely by “uniting with the people” (yu min). The people then “united with him” by putting his virtue into office, as if hiring him long term with an image, a prayer, and a stele: a permanent hire and one almost independent of his original selection by the examination system, the Ministry of Personnel, and the Son of Heaven. No wonder the Donglin faction and Wei Zhongxian contended over this kind of legitimacy. No wonder the claim of a vicious eunuch on such legitimacy and moral authority, a claim made through living shrines the emperor himself had approved, called forth street protests, a solar eclipse, a headless zombie, and a city full of people weeping about corruption.54

Bureaucratic Feudalism Against the background of the political theory within the premortem genre and practice, Donglin men look like reactionaries, and the early Qing political critique by Gu Yanwu seems less “startling[‌ly‌] perceptive” 53. Hou Zhenggu, “Prefect Hou Zhenggu’s Gone Yet Remembered Stele Record for County Magistrate Mr. Wang [‌Yuanyi‌].” Hou served as prefect in two places; Wang went on to serve as salt-control censor and in 1624 became chief minister in the Court of Imperial Sacrifice. 54. As recounted in a 1628 novel discussed in Hegel, “Conclusions,” 532–33, 547.



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and more like a “logical outcome” of Ming developments.55 Gu Yanwu proposed incentivizing paternalist policies for social welfare by permitting the best magistrates to serve in their counties for life and to pass the office down to an heir or protégé. Miranda Brown traces Gu’s theory to a long tradition going back to Cui Shi in 170.56 Gu also drew more immediately on the institutions he lived among: not only the hereditary chieftains of the southwest, but the repertoire of honors and living shrines.57 Like other late Ming writers, Gu grumped: “In later ages no official does not get a living shrine built.” But, he continued, “there are cases in which, shortly after a man leaves his post, [‌t he shrine’s‌] image is destroyed and its main figure changed.”58 In deploying these tropes, Gu evinces the fate of Di Renjie’s shrine under his bad son (although that example seems to warn against the inheritance of local office). He adds the case of a Han official whose no-good son followed him in ruling a group of barbarians; some wanted to attack, but elders urged preservation of his legacy of peace: they were better than those who destroyed Di Renjie’s shrine. Far from condemning shrines, therefore, Gu’s proposal to rely on local reputation for bureaucratic promotions formalized the bottom-up repertoire of honors, which he saw all around him and throughout the gazetteers he was reading to compose his compendium on the empire. Gu’s proposal that the county be allowed to “retain” good resident administrators institutionalized the key function of that repertoire. His argument that a good official would see the locals as his children took up the parental metaphor into which locals had poured so much 55. Both judgments are by Elman of Gu Yanwu and Huang Zongxi in “Imperial Politics,” 399, 401–2. Elman argues that their insights should be understood in the Ming context, not as a failed protomodern urge, even though the Qing successfully shut down such sharp criticism of the imperial state. 56. Brown, “Returning the Gaze,” 59. 57. Shin, Making of the Chinese State, shows that the wide area governed in part by hereditary chiefs bulked large in official consciousness. 58. Gu Yanwu, “Living Shrines,” in his Ri zhi lu 22/31. Gu traces their origins to Han shrines to Wan Shi (rare in the genre) and Yu Dingguo’s father (common). Gu’s own experiences gave him a favorable impression of public opinion. On his own abuse by a local bully working the levers of the law, Gu wrote, “In the end, by relying on public opinion (gonglun), I was able to escape from danger.” Delury, “Despotism,” 38.

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energy. Echoing tropes in premortem discourse—that good administrators comforted the people like their own children and managed the people’s affairs as if they were family—Gu wrote that “natural feeling” led everyone to cherish his family and children above the emperor and common people.59 Then he took the next logical step to argue that such officials should be permanently incorporated into the locality. Gu was bureaucratizing the way shrines offered worship extending into the future and Hou Zhenggu’s conception that “uniting” with the people would strengthen an official. The intellectual giant stood on the shoulders of premortem stele writers and those for whom they spoke. Officials valued local honors, and the danger that they would be demanded or offered insincerely was widely recognized. My argument is that this central problem—the corruption and lies that power could create—was a productive contradiction to which the political concept of popular approbation was the solution. To prove the genuineness of a man’s achievements given the realization that power corrupted, stele writers frequently deployed tropes of widespread popular sentiment.60 The imperative to deflect charges (often justified) of self-glorification and flattery permitted both de facto institutionalized political speech by local subjects and the quite explicit claim that they had the right to such speech. The recourse to populism was a social solution, not a state-imposed one. Nothing in the Ming Code forbade a small group from setting up a premortem shrine or stele as long as they acted independently of the official, after his departure, and as long as he actually had accomplished 59. Delury, “Despotism,” 12. Gu knew that arduously constructed nonbiological family relationships could work, for he had been adopted as the heir to a dead first cousin once removed and was raised by that cousin’s faithful fiancée (p. 23). 60. As I have argued elsewhere, commoners’ feelings (qing) could underlie a complete theorization of the propriety of living shrines through the legitimate sentiment of the people. Schneewind, “Beyond Flattery,” 355. The only thing that was “unprecedented” in Republican times about what Eugenia Lean dubs “public sympathy” conceived as a “tribunal of sorts against which the caprices of officialdom were tried” was the technology of newspapers and telegraphs. Lean, Public Passions, 6, 135–36; see also 95, 112, 113.



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something. Some shrines were openly established by gentry. One gazetteer reports of Jinxiang magistrate Gao Kui that “the shidafu of the county trusted and obeyed him and set up a living shrine to him.”61 Song “gentry had led commoners” to build a shrine to pray to Heaven for the ex-magistrate each morning and night; it still stood in Ming times.62 Likewise, the legally required “governmental achievements” could perfectly well include promoting schools, teaching students oneself, and improving gentry ethos. The prominence of livelihood concerns in premortem discourse is not directly accounted for by the law; it was a social extension of the law. Once these aspects of the genre were well established, members of the Donglin adopted them and adapted them to their own needs, sometimes in reactionary ways, as Kai-wing Chow pointed out in discussing popular anger. Harry Miller quotes dramatic statements by Li Sancai that “the people are the sovereign’s sovereign,” but Miller strongly rejects the characterization of such statements as “the roots of primitive democratic thought.” Instead, they legitimated a vision of an “alternate authoritarianism,” with gentry making decisions instead of the emperor.63 Study of the premortem genre enables us to see deeper roots to the faux populism of Donglin gentrymen as well as to understand the background to Gu Yanwu’s bureaucratic feudalism. And since the earlier steles and shrines still stood in the landscape when all the Dong­ lin men had died, they may not have had the last word, despite dominating the Ming History presentation of their fight with Wei Zhongxian. The next chapter will examine whether the invocations of ordinary people in premortem discourse were as false as those of the Donglin partisans or whether Ming commoners actually participated in shrine politics.

61. 1585 HN Kaifeng fuzhi 18/78. 62. Yao Mian, “Record of the Living Shrine to [‌Former‌] Xinchang Magistrate Chen [Deng].” 63. Harry Miller, State versus Gentry, 70–73. Note that Donglin partisans included merchants, artisans, and soldiers (Elman, “Imperial Politics,” 398). Their populism may have been more genuine.

Chapter Six

Commoners National right emerges from the unforced collective mentality, and it expresses itself in a unison of voices. As such, it is determined neither by the ruler nor by the court officials, but by every man and woman in the realm. That which every man and woman in the realm labels as right or wrong, neither the ruler nor the officials may overrule. . . . Because the common men and women have no part in governing the realm, they abide it passively, yet they see it clearly. It penetrates their breasts, rises to their throats, and rushes out their mouths, and this is how right and wrong are determined. —Donglin partisan Miao Changqi1

W

hen the Ming dynasty fell, its subjects were still debating commoners’ political status. Some thought righteous commoners ought to sacrifice their lives for the Ming, but others argued that to do so would improperly claim a role meant solely for officials. Ordinary people had no proper role to play in public affairs.2 Wang Fansen, drawing on James Scott’s Weapons of the Weak, has proposed that popular demonstrations upon the departure of a good official constituted an alternative to official evaluation, giving ordinary people a political 1. Translated in Dardess, Blood and History, 124. 2. Koon-Piu Ho, “Should We Die?” 124–25, 132.

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voice.3 Ho Shu-yi, having documented gentry domination of premortem discourse in Jiaxing, calls this “an extremely provocative observation.”4 But Wang’s observation is fully borne out by the Ming repertoire of honors, especially living shrines. We have seen that shrines enabled Ming subjects to influence their magistrates, speak out publicly on matters of governance, and claim the right to political speech. This chapter argues that those subjects included not only local gentry licensed by the state through their civil service examination degrees and not only students, whom the law barred from political speech, but also—in fact, specifically and by preference—commoners. For each report of shrines sponsored by commoners, historians may choose to believe it, in which case commoners participated in politics. Or they may choose not to believe it, with the even more interesting result that elite stele writers were explicitly, publicly, in stone, claiming that commoners had the right to political participation. To evince that shrines went through an approval process, Zhao Kesheng cites a stele: Nowadays, when a magistrate is recommended for honors as an upright official and is about to be transferred and to leave, the common people (baixing) of the jurisdiction all get to narrate the “legacy of love” to the higher official, making a petition for him, and it is ordered to erect a stele recording his merit and virtue, and [‌to erect‌] a temple image to make offerings to.5

A petition and order appear here, but the more salient point is the common people’s right to report on their magistrate. As mentioned in the introduction to this book, in 1373, Taizu had banned government students from submitting proposals on state affairs (jian yan), while inviting others to do so: not only educated men in or out of office, but



3. Wang, Zhiniu de diyin, 62. 4. Ho Shu-yi, “Wan Ming de difangguan shengci,” 813. 5. Zhao Kesheng, “Mingdai shengci,” 127.

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also farmers, merchants, and artisans.6 Nimick shows that “public opinion” among students could fell a magistrate and that denunciations by commoners were dangerous too.7 Richard Lufrano has studied successful Ming petitions from commoners.8 But, as discussed in the introduction, scholarly work on public opinion has generally written commoners out. So far, I have generally left vague who “local subjects” or “the people” were. There are two separate issues here. First, the Ming social landscape was complex. A jinshi or a juren was definitely gentry—but he might be stripped of his rank. Government students (shengyuan) were exempt from corvée while they continued to pass examinations but did not enjoy all gentry privileges and held high social status only where gentry families were few. Setting aside royalty, nongentry were mostly commoners by definition, but they might dominate their local areas on the basis of violence, commerce, landholding, designation as a tax captain, leadership in the religious sphere, connections with royalty, or other resources.9 At home, the wealthy or violent may have held social authority; nationally, top clergy and cult leaders may have had many followers—but they did not have political rights like those of ­scholar-​officials. As Michael Marmé describes locals with sources of power and authority other than examination degrees, “in the eyes of the wider world, they were merely prosperous commoners.”10 Second, not only was society complex, but the words that premortem steles use to refer to types of people are ambiguous. Who exactly do sources mean by “gentry” (shi)? Even vaguer: ren, like “the people” in contemporary Europe, could mean “some or all inhabitants” or “ordinary people.”11 Min is a contrastive term; it can mean imperial subjects in contrast to the emperor or officials, civilians in contrast to 6. Shen Shixing et al., Da Ming huidian, j. 78; Huang Ming zhi shu 3/1533; “The Horizontal Stele,” in de Bary and Lufrano, Sources of Chinese Tradition 1/787. The law was reaffirmed; see Mingshi 1/9/119, 2/15/195. 7. Nimick, “The County, the Magistrate, and the Yamen,” 167. 8. Lufrano, “Cherishing the People.” 9. Esherick and Rankin, Chinese Local Elites. 10. Marmé, Suzhou, 86–89, 155. 11. Arguments for the political participation of ordinary people emerged forcibly precisely in 1640s England. Hanson, “Democracy,” 72–73.

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soldiers, farming families in contrast to registered salt makers or artisans, taxpaying subjects in the borderlands in contrast to unregistered non-Han people, or commoners in contrast to gentry. Since min may also mean “all local inhabitants,” I have avoided translating it as “commoners” unless the source explicitly contrasts it with gentry. This chapter will look at other terms that more explicitly refer to nongentry. Since some commoners were rich or influential, to argue that “commoners” participated in politics is not to argue that shrine practice empowered the poor and weak. Gail Hershatter has pointed out the historian’s dilemma of “the disappearing subaltern”: since the subaltern so notoriously does not speak, any subaltern who does speak loses that status.12 My argument is that people not licensed with civil service examination degrees participated in Ming politics legitimately— not just as a by-product of imperfect state control—and that they did so in an institutional setting, not just by gathering in crowds to protest, putting up posters, or singing rude ditties. First I will look at who sponsored shrines. Fortunately, Ming people loved to categorize and list, and records often carefully distinguish among groups.13 Shrines explicitly relied on commoners, often in cooperation with gentry and students. Records linger not only on commoners’ feelings, but also on their rational arguments, and explicitly argue for commoners’ right to political speech, sometimes by raising straw-man objections. Commoners’ approval became so engrained in premortem shrine rhetoric that even posthumous shrines sometimes claimed it, although they neither legally nor socially required popular support. Donglin writers picked up and further developed these conceptions. Further, premortem shrines responded directly to the economic concerns of the less powerful. In one case in which gentry use of premortem shrines has been very well documented, there is still an earlier back story of popular enshrinement. Overall, premortem shrines often relied on commoners’ sponsorship, claimed that commoners legitimately participated in judging officials and policies, and promoted commoners’ interests.



12. Hershatter, Dangerous Pleasures, 26. 13. On categorizing people as a Ming hobby, see Park, Art by the Book, 123.

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Names on a Stone Steles as they were engraved recorded more about sponsors than the copies in gazetteers and collected works retain. They demonstrate nongentry sponsorship of shrines. A Ming stele associated with a premortem shrine to a magistrate who had consulted county students upon arrival, and who remeasured land to help the “little people,” was composed by a stipendiary student at the Confucian school; the seal script title was calligraphed by a county school student, and someone politely labeled a “retired official” despite appearing in no examination pass list calligraphed the text. The stone was “set up” by the community compact head and unnamed others.14 Another example provides more detail. A twentieth-century collector carefully recorded the stele for a 1580 living shrine that still stood inside Taiping County, Anhui, allowing a surface look at who sponsored the shrine (table 6.1). The author was a local jinshi whose title occupied thirteen characters, but they were spread out to make it look longer. The seal script title “Mr. Zhang’s Premortem Shrine Record” (Zhang gong shengci ji) was carved by a local gentryman whose titles occupied eighteen characters, and the calligraphy had been done by one whose titles occupied thirty-three characters. These names and the text following occupy twenty-two lines, ending with Zhang’s basic data and the date when the stele was put up. Next come the names of donors, divided into sixteen classes (lie), but unfortunately the justification for the classes, probably the amounts donated, is not explained.15 In the first class are the current Taiping County officials: the acting magistrate, who had formerly been an assistant instructor in another county and was just holding the fort until the new magistrate arrived; the vice-magistrate; and various unranked officials (the jail warden, school instructor, assistant instructor, and police chief, who would oversee a branch county office when the county was large). Listed after them, still in the first class, are former 14. Chen Zao, “Gone Yet Remembered Stele Record for Dingxing County [‌Magistrate‌] Mr. Ren Kai”; 1735 BZ Jifu tongzhi 68/16. In this county, students also composed the steles for temples and the like. It may be that in north China generally students played a larger role than in the south, where credentialed gentry were rife. 15. Xu Naichang, Anhui tongzhi jinshi guwu 7/227.

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Table 6.1 Sponsors of the Living Shrine to Taiping Magistrate Zhang Tingbang Surname

Number in top sixteen classes

Number in bottom class

Total

Percentage of total (193) (rounded)

Chen

7

19

26

13

Sun

8

12

20

10

Tan

7

9

16

8

Xiang

3

8

11

6

Hu

2

9

11

6

Zhang

2

7

9

5

Cui

7

1

8

4

Zhou

3

5

8

4

Huang

2

6

8

4

Jiao

3

1

4

2

79

40

A dozen other surnames throughout

Source: Xu Naichang, Anhui tongzhi jinshi guwu 7/39–43 (227–29).

officials now living in retirement at home (xiang huan): a former vice-prefect, a former subprefect who had been an active builder in his only post about a decade before, and a former secretary in a bureau in a capital ministry. In the second and third classes are nine local gentrymen who were or had been low-ranking officials working for magistrates or prefects elsewhere or in other minor positions. Fourth come five men; either the first one listed or all of them had been jail wardens elsewhere. Fifth come two tribute students, two new juren (one from three years before, one from that very year who later earned his jinshi degree), and a military juren. Sixth, and perhaps seventh and eighth, are three groups of five National University students; or it may be that only the first of these fifteen men had that rank. Ninth come five government students; and, again, each of the following six classes, with four or five names, might also have been students. The lower register of the stele contains a long, undivided list of names without titles. Toward the end are the Buddhist registrar, a monk; and someone titled “Confucian gentleman” (ru shi), probably an unofficial student.

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All together, besides the six incumbent officials, 193 people “together set up” the stele and shrine. Officials head the list, then come gentrymen, then students and commoners. Certain surnames dominate the list; the Chens and Suns may have been several families sharing common surnames, but the high number of the more unusual Tans and Xiangs suggests concerted action by a kin group. Nevertheless, this was a fairly broad-based effort, and the picture is one of cooperation among gentry, commoners, and students.16 Some must have given very small amounts indeed, for the unranked group is unusual. The other steles in the source sometimes have over twenty classes of sponsor or sometimes only one class with a handful of names. One departure stele lists fifteen classes of sponsor but without an unranked group at the end.17 This living shrine had a broader social base of sponsors than other kinds of building efforts.

Who Sponsored Shrines? Gazetteers and records rarely record details regarding shrines. But they do categorize those who initiated and “built” shrines—which usually refers to paying for the building, sometimes to doing it with their own hands. A common term describing who sponsored a shrine is shimin.18 This term does not tell us much, for it can refer to educated people whether gentry or commoners; to the educated class and ordinary people; to ordinary people alone; or to soldiers and civilians.19 Likewise, renshi can mean “gentry” or “commoners.”20 A list from the 1430s of locals honoring the administrator is more informative: it included the “elders of the county” (yi zhi qilao); “the county’s old and young folks”; “the fellows of the alleys and lanes and the little people of the 16. Xu Naichang, Anhui tongzhi jinshi guwu 7/39–43 (227–29). 17. Xu Naichang, Anhui tongzhi jinshi guwu 8/29–33 (244–46). 18. E.g, “Shimin, responding to his virtue, constructed a living shrine to make offerings to [‌Ma Jinglun‌].” 1692 SD Ji’nan fuzhi 25/62. Later, as censor, Ma crossed the Wanli emperor and was made a commoner, so his disciples gave him a “private posthumous name” (Mingren zhuanji ziliao suoyin, 415), another social usurpation of imperial privilege. 19. Hanyu da cidian 2/1001. 20. E.g., 1684 FJ Fujian tongzhi 32/13b; Hanyu da cidian 1/1033–34.

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fields and meadows” 閭巷之士夫田野之小民; “several thousand hundred of the petty urbanites of the county, and old and young from the countryside” 邑之廛 民巷士兒童野叟; and (for gentry and commoners) “men dressed in hides and cotton and those in red silk sashes” 韋‌布​ 縉紳之士.21 A century and a half later, Magistrate Zhang Dujing’s honors came from retired officials living at home (jianshen), high officials (daifu), youthful students (jinpei), worthy talents (yanxiu), elders (qi­ lao), and the masses of the villages and neighborhoods 里社坊廂 齊‌民.22 Shrine sponsors included soldiers: Shi Dao, for instance, was enshrined by the soldiers and civilians of the five forts he built around Datong in about 1536.23 “Gentry and merchants” sponsored one particularly lovely late Ming living shrine, contributing money and materiel: probably the merchants—commoners—were quite wealthy.24 For the most part, as appropriate to a political venue, these terms distinguish gentry, students, and commoners, who had different political rights, rather than focusing on wealth or other sources of local social domination.25 Terms explicitly identifying commoners include “the hundred surnames” (baixing), “the little people” (xiaoren), “the people who steam [‌offerings‌]” or “the multitudes of the people” (zheng min), and “the black-haired masses” (limin). Nine years after Xue Zhen had left Yuanshi County, “the baixing still missed him as if it had been only one day. They set up a living shrine to him as a plan for reciprocation and solicited words from me,” wrote Zhao Xingbang. It was Xue’s good governance on behalf of the baixing that earned the shrine.26 Again, when Li Zongyan was leaving for a post as censor, the baixing 21. Liu Ju, “Hanlin Senior Compiler Liu Ju Takes Up [‌His Brush‌] to Record the Living Shrine to Subprefect in Charge of the Affairs of Neihuang County Mr. Song An.” 22. Zhao Minshuo, “Stele Record of the Virtuous Governance of Yuanshi County Magistrate Mr. Zhang [‌Dujing‌].” 23. Mingren zhuanji ziliao suoyin, 105. 24. Cao Yubian, Yangjie tang ji 4/27. 25. The many Ming terms that contrasted elite commoners with their neighbors whether gentry or ordinary folk do not appear in my sources. Marmé, Suzhou, 169; Junghwan Lee, “Wang Yangming Thought,” 64. 26. Zhao Xingbang and Zhi Sui, “Stele Record of the Virtuous Governing of Mr. Xue [‌Zhen‌].” The gazetteer containing this text records a shrine of three bays: “today it is in ruins.” 1642 BZ Yuanshi xianzhi 2/253.

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“blocked [‌t he road‌] to retain [‌him‌] but could not capture him, so they built a shrine and worshiped (shizhu) him.”27 In another case, “commoners outstanding in virtue and talent” (xiu min) initiated the matter by requesting school officials and students to write up particulars of Magistrate Xu’s good governance; then the commoners approached a prominent gentryman for a record through a friend of Xu’s; and a local jinshi and a juren also brought documents vouching for Xu.28 The initiative lay with commoners, who spurred their social superiors to action. Another frequent shrine sponsor is “elders” (usually fulao). This term may just mean locally respected men, or may refer to “community elders” (li laoren), who had been authorized by Taizu to manage village affairs and report on, even arrest, county magistrates. Even as parts of that system fell into abeyance, magistrates were still supposed to select elders and rely on them for information on local history and religion, and other aid.29 Elders were commoners, even when literate.30 One epitaph contrasts “elders of the villages” (xianglü fulao) with “local gentry-officials” or “local gentry” (xiang shidafu).31 Among a group of named men requesting a record were the subprefect, gentry, and students differentiated by label, then two “elders” (qilao), followed by military officers. If the elders had had a title or degree, it would have been used.32 Generally, elders were commoners.

27. 1692 SD Ji’nan fuzhi 25/63; also 41/11 for a native honored elsewhere with a shrine built by the baixing. 28. Wang Shenzhong, “Record of the Living Shrine to Yongding County Magistrate Mr. Xu [‌Wenxian‌].” The jinshi was Zhang Xi, dismissed from office precisely for balking at offering flattery (1737 FJ Fujian tongzhi 48/33). 29. Farmer, Zhu Yuanzhang; Schneewind, “Visions and Revisions”; Shen Shixing et al., Da Ming huidian 59/1453–55, order of 1385. Nimick, “The County, The Magistrate, and the Yamen,” gives full texts of three magistrates’ handbooks (pp. 221–78), which recommend selecting respected commoners as elders (226). 30. Had they held a higher rank, it would have been listed when, for instance, they contributed to compiling gazetteers. Dennis, Writing, Publishing, and Read­ ing, 173. 31. Zhu Dashao, Huang Ming mingchen muming, 67. 32. Jiang Long, “Record of the Living Shrine to Military Censor Mr. Wang Yi” 12/22a.

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In some cases, I was able to follow up on such people a little, but real research remains to be done. One memorial requesting a posthumous shrine for an official was written by an elder (qilao) named Pan Zhaoming. A number of local Pans held lower degrees (one even served as a magistrate), but he himself was legally a commoner, if socially gentry.33 Usually when elders’ names are given as premortem shrine sponsors, they hold no degrees and have done nothing else to win mention in the gazetteer, even in very backward places where every student was listed—the donors listed for Yang Hong’s living shrine in a Buddhist temple in Longmen garrison are an example.34 According to an orderly gazetteer that tracks such things, two named men requested one stele essay: Hou Ziqiang and Huang Shouzhi. Hou may have been a member of the Hou clan that held a number of civil service degrees, but he himself had no title and appears nowhere else in the gazetteer. Huang Shouzhi is listed as “filial and righteous” (i.e., charitable) and was honored in the community libation ceremony but held no degree; very few Huangs here did.35 Elders might well be prominent in some way, like the dozen “elderly commoners of the community compact” (xiangyue qimin) listed at the end of the stele for the new shrine to Wen Lin that replaced his old premortem shrine.36 But, however powerful locally in ways that fieldwork might uncover, these men were legally commoners.37 Yet these men made legitimate decisions about honors for resident administrators. Elders guaranteed the truth of claims about good governance and local gratitude, as in Li Biao’s essay discussed in chapter 5. “When I was young, I heard the various elders (fulao) talking about Mr. Xu—all things they themselves had witnessed,” wrote another 33. 1548 BZ Xiguan zhi 3/72. 34. Feng Yi, “Record of the Living Shrine to Mr. Yang [‌Hong‌]” (1449). The gazetteer was compiled two and a half centuries later, so data may have been lost. 35. For a different living shrine, Huang Zhengjun, “along with two or three elders” requested the stele; he appears nowhere else in the gazetteer. 1634 SD Yuncheng xianzhi, 317, 322, 216. 36. 1882 ZJ Yongjia xianzhi 23/53. 37. As Smith writes of such “obscure men of indeterminable status,” “one might storm the pages with an arsenal of questions, but in vain.” Smith, Art of Doing Good, 159.

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author.38 Broad participation countered the suspicion that premortem honors were staged as an exchange of reputation for favors. In this process, no guarantee was more potent than the voice of commoners. We can see this by comparing a posthumous and a premortem shrine by the same author. Onetime minister of rites in Nanjing Huang Fengxiang states this principle explicitly. Huang had commemorated a shrine to a dead local man; gentry initiated it and a number of officials supported it, yet Huang had raised no objection.39 It was quite different with a premortem shrine. The context was this: Zou Chi had held high office before becoming prefect of Quanzhou in 1580 and then held a series of positions in Fujian for twelve years before transfer to an important post in Guangdong. Quanzhou gentry and commoners went to meet him along the road on his way to Guangdong and then visited Huang to ask for a stele text for a shrine they were already setting up. Huang objected. There were certainly precedents for such a shrine (he notes many), but “to have juren and gentry praising this jurisdiction’s [‌departing‌] big chief: is that not merely flattery (yu)?” Huang agreed to write the essay, by his own account, after a group of “literary elders” (wenxue qilao) told him about the specifics of Zou’s contributions to Quanzhou.40 In other genres, the ignorance and folly of ordinary men and women meant that shamans and charlatans could mislead them. In the premortem genre, the people are always firm and sagacious. And often loquacious.

Who Talks? The literary elders’ speech occupies about one-third of Huang Feng­ xiang’s premortem essay on Zou. Commoners’ political speech in early imperial times was often non-rational, like the nonsensical omen-ditties 38. Yin Shidan, “Record of Building the Shrine to Mr. Xu [‌Kui‌] Loyal Purity” 35/19b/51b. 39. Huang Fengxiang, “Record of the Shrine to Chen Zifeng” (ca. 1570). Huang urged the emperor to support his living “infants,” the people, instead of decorating temples for ghosts and spirits (Mingshi 19/216/5700). 40. Huang Fengxiang, “Record of Shrine Sacrifice to Prefect Zou,” discussed in Schneewind, “Beyond Flattery,”354.

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of Han.41 By contrast, the Ming premortem genre frequently presents intelligent conversations among the locals, including commoners, and between them and the gentry writer. One need not believe that these are word-for-word transcripts to accept that they basically record what people meant to say; writers altered words and shifted between vernacular-sounding and classical-sounding styles in recording conversations.42 From rallies to faculty meetings, the answer to the question “Who gets to talk?” often tells where authority lies, and counting words shows who talks most. I will give just one example: Wang Chaoxiang’s record for a shrine to Cheng’an magistrate Zhang, which I will discuss in detail below. Wang’s narrative and explanation occupy 383 characters. Residents (min) laud Zhang to themselves for 8 words; then gentry leaders and commoners lament his departure in 12. Then several hundred people, “the worthy shidafu of the county, old and young, and even various farmers and yamen personnel” speak to Wang in 84 characters, asking for an essay; he replies in 42 characters; they respond in 68; he objects in 37; and they override him in 59. In all, the group speaks for 231 characters and Wang himself for 79. The emperor talks for 10.43 Steles commemorating other constructions may include conversations but they give the highest-status person the most air time.44 By contrast, the author of a premortem shrine record was not being asked for his own judgment, but rather to record what less able writers, or even the illiterate, wanted to engrave. Author Pei Dong protests: “Untalented, how dare I overstep my bounds to write a speech about him? So I reverently recite the Son of Heaven’s imperial letter praising Teacher [‌Ren Yingzheng‌] and what the gentry and commoners say to 41. Contented or discontented ordinary people produced qi that affected the physical world and verses that the authorities collected, but what mattered in this manifestation of cosmic ganying was “how they felt rather than what they were thinking about.” Brashier, Ancestral Memory, 257–60, 357; emphasis in original. 42. Hymes, “Getting the Words Right.” Also Hansen, Changing Gods, 21. 43. Wang Chaoxiang, “ Record of the Living Shrine to County Magistrate Mr. Zhang Jiuhua.” 44. For a conversation between a magistrate and locals elders resisting a project because of bad experiences with a predecessor, see Cheung, “Chinese County Walls,” 103–5. Iiyama, “Legitimating Ancestry,” 8–9, quotes a conversation among kinsmen in which the writer’s father’s words dominate.

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one another with hands clasped before their foreheads [‌in respect‌].”45 Pei reports the emperor’s praise in the same way he reports local speech.46 Few premortem steles mention the emperor; many mention commoners’ views. The “principles of compilation” in a late Ming gazetteer explicitly put conversation at the very heart of the premortem genre: Living shrine records and Gone Yet Remembered steles are all erected for the leaders of jurisdictions. The men who grasp the tablets and [‌take up‌] ink and brush are really only representing (dai) the “oral record” (kou lu) of the villages and hamlets.47

Here the common term of honor “oral stele” (kou bei), meaning spoken words of remembrance like those on a departure stele, is extended to suggest that the villagers have their own, oral “veritable records” (shilu). The dynasty passed historical judgment; so did they. One author makes it quite clear that he is speaking for locals, whose judgment was what counted: Although His Honor’s beautiful governance is certainly manifold, am I able to trumpet it by words? In the old [‌saying‌] “[‌remembrance‌] without decay comes through establishing one’s words” these “words” are not my words, but the words of the people (min) of Cheng’an.48

45. Pei Dong, “Record of a Living Shrine to Mr. Ren [‌Yingzheng‌],” 569. Subprefect Ren took office in 1599. The gazetteer lists his living shrine with honorary arches on p. 369. 46. A gazetteerist writing about a local man who had served elsewhere as magistrate, subprefect, and vice-prefect similarly balanced imperial praise and local honors when he wrote that the people “set up living shrines to him, and also he received an imperial letter praising and requiting him.” 1630+ SX Weizhou zhi, 442, biography of Qiao Keda. 47. 1612 FJ Quanzhou fuzhi, fanli/38. One of the compilers was Huang Fengxiang, author of about seven steles for premortem shrines. 48. 1618+CZ+SZ BZ Cheng’an yi cheng, 545.

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The elite author might even report a conversation in which he himself had not taken part. Liu Chun, a local who had earned his jinshi degree on Prefect Li Jing’s watch and who later became minister of rites, in about 1496 commemorated the shrine to Li, who had served in Yuezhou from 1483 to 1491.49 As Liu tells it, some local people (min), still missing Li after several years, approached an assistant censor for help completing a living shrine that a number of prefectural officials had worked on. The censor replied that he certainly knew Li by reputation, but what was it precisely that they so appreciated? Their answer detailing his activities takes up almost thirty lines—half of the whole text— although they assured him that Li’s results, visible everywhere, had all been reported, that what they say is a mere outline, and that not all of Li’s cherishing and moral guidance can be told or even known. The censor, as Liu reports it, merely endorsed their views: “Truly, if it is like this, it is proper that the people cannot forget him.”50 And Liu, in turn, merely reports the conversation. Commoners speak.

Commoners’ Right to Political Speech Steles argued for commoners’ right to speak as well as demonstrating it in their practice. In one case where the conversation takes up the bulk of the record, the writer or narrator also argues explicitly for the legitimacy of local, even popular, participation in the political process of evaluating the magistrate, balancing the emperor’s evaluation. In 1530, before earning his provincial degree, Wang Chaoxiang from the neighboring county wrote the stele mentioned above for the Legacy of Love Shrine for Cheng’an magistrate Zhang Yunxian, known as Zhang Jiu­ hua. Wang opens by reporting that Zhang was energetic, bright, honest, and good, appreciated by the locals and lauded by observers passing through the county. Wang then balances local honors with praise from the court for this new jinshi: “After two years they all said, ‘Master Jiu­ hua’s wisdom is of the greatest help to us.’ When his essays were submitted 49. For his biography, see 1488+JJ HG Yuezhou fuzhi and LQ HG Yuezhou fuzhi 13/57 (531). 50. Liu Chun, “Stele for the Shrine to Yuezhou Prefect Mr. Li [‌Jing‌].”

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to the Son of Heaven, the Son of Heaven said, ‘This is one who can properly act as my legs and arms, ears, and eyes.’” Zhang was posted elsewhere without completing his term; the call of the court trumped the needs of locals. Three groups expressed their grief at Zhang’s transfer: gentry, commoners, and those passing through the county, representing the broader popular opinion and perhaps including Wang himself. On the day he left, the gentry leaders set out the sacrifice at the crossroads and the commoners lay down in the wheel ruts, crying: “Our Mr. [‌Zhang‌] is forsaking us and leaving. Who will protect us in the future?” Their tears fell fast, and the people on the road also sobbed and sighed.

A large group visited Wang shortly thereafter: they had made up their minds to set up a shrine and wanted an inscription text. Wang portrays the group, led by (unnamed) gentry but including commoners, as unusually persistent. A month after his departure, the worthy shidafu of the county, old and young, and even various farmers and government office personnel— some, I don’t know, several hundred people—visited me and made a request, saying: “Our Mr. Jiuhua cherished us locals in his bosom. His influence will still be great from today forward. We, from our younger days until manhood, from the days of our manhood into old age and after, who among all of us who are living does not know that there was Mr. [‌Zhang‌]? And, further, who does not know of Mr. [‌Zhang’s‌] kindly influence? We have all discussed making an image and creating a shrine to display his legacy of love. If you, Master, would record it on stone, we will use it to transmit [‌t hat legacy‌] without decay so that our Mr. [‌Zhang’s‌] kindly influence will last long and not be wiped out but keep on fertilizing. His kindly influence will also be captured, to making our yearning last forever.”

The record for the shrine will assure longevity both for what Mr. Zhang actually accomplished and for the feeling of gratitude. Wang assures the group that he knows Zhang is worthy, and he himself gives two

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instances of Zhang’s efficacy: a prayer for rain and a prayer that turned a fire away. But he asks for further explanation of their feeling that they will not forget him. They replied: “Our Mr. [‌Zhang‌] has the moral integrity of a submerged tree stump that sends forth new shoots; he is pure in his outspokenness; and he has shining talent. He methodically graded the gentlemen by their competence; with strict regularity he controlled the government staff; and he repeatedly inspected the commoners’ sufferings. He equalized corvée so that we could rest from our labor; he was lenient about levies, reducing what we had to supply. In civil and criminal cases he practiced fairness; in dealing with robbers and bandits, he cleaned them all up. In dealing with absconders, he practiced [‌permitting them to‌] return. With a legacy of love like this, how could we forget him?

Mr. Zhang had satisfied both gentry and commoners, the former by attendance to their education and ranking, the latter through pocketbook issues, and both with law and order. This is all as we would expect. But then something interesting happens. Wang poses two strawman objections. I replied, “When one has received a post as a shepherd to seek fodder, when one eats a salary to be diligent about public matters: that is all the job! And, moreover, in civil service memorials [‌of evaluation‌] there is a distinction between inferior and superior merit. It is the dynasty (guojia) that displays and congratulates.

Wang makes two objections to the shrine. First of all, no matter how well Zhang did his job, it was after all his duty as a delegate of the imperial court to assure the people’s livelihood and attend to other matters of governance. He was paid a salary to do so, and that should be the end of it. Here Zhang uses the shepherd metaphor more common than the parental metaphor in central sources, which underlines the mindlessness of the flock, who merely bleat for fodder. Second, the imperial bureaucracy not only places but also evaluates officials and then informs the emperor who has deserved commendation. Subjects

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should not pass judgment on the magistrate, usurping the privilege of the dynasty and the bureaucracy. The group of gentry and commoners answer this authoritarian and bureaucratic objection with another part of the Mandate ideology: the idealization of the administrative relationship as a parent-child relationship. They replied, “In the relation of a child to its parents, both parents have thick virtue, so its love is deep. Its love is deep, so its yearning lasts forever. Our Mr. [‌Zhang‌] brought peace to our homes, quieted us in the fields, comforted our aged and our young. How is he different from a parent? Because we recognize virtue we yearn; we express our yearning with a shrine; giving the shrine “arises from the right” (yi yi qi) in this way, and that’s it. How could we know anything different?”

The group plays two cards—a term drawn from the Record of Rites and an orthodox emotion—to trump bureaucracy and the emperor’s prerogative. Wang responds in kind: “When I heard this, I was moved, deeply moved.” He refers to historical precedents including the Gantang tree and comments, “Seeing this display of how Jiuhua is bound up in the people’s thoughts, how could one think that today and antiquity are so very different?” Zhang is precisely the sort of person referred to when the Odes speaks of the gentleman as the father and mother of the people. Wang has apparently accepted and backed the local ­subjects’ right to judge their magistrate and display their judgment publicly—at least in this case, in which the Son of Heaven had already approved the man. Wang continues: Now Zhang’s examination essay on “how to administratively ‘shepherd’ the people” has won him a position as a supervising censor in the Office of Scrutiny for Rites “as an ears-and-eyes minister of the Son of Heaven.” He will surely rise as high as a Song official who governed Cheng’an and then became prime minister; like him, Zhang will make policy suggestions that are accepted, extending his governing approach, practiced in the county, to the whole empire and succeeding generations. Zhang is on his way up. “Well, then,” Wang asks himself, “why put his image in this shrine?” The question

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must be answered, for obviously the sponsors might be hoping that Zhang will patronize them from his high position. Wang’s answers both focus on Zhang’s successors in Cheng’an. The shrine may awaken wisdom in them, and, separately, it will promote the boundless continuation of Zhang’s legacy of love, that is, his policies, the one thing yearned for by those who give him the shrine.51 The shrine, in other words, will inspire or warn later administrators and tell them specifically what to do. The answers may be designed to allay suspicion that gentry sponsored the shrine to curry favor with a patron, but the result is that the large group of locals, including commoners, who repeatedly talked back to Wang, is positioned to select and promote an exemplar and a set of policies. The most important point, however, is that Wang (himself still a student) explicitly raised the question of the right of the people to build a shrine at all. He presented it as an invasion of the rights of the court to judge its delegates. And he presents himself as persuaded, by the heartfelt and persistent arguments of this motley group of locals, that they indeed have that right. We may conclude: The degree to which “populist” views actually reflect the views of the people should not be overstated—public opinion remains filtered and often refers to the views that [‌. . .‌] leaders have decided to embrace. Likewise, [‌. . .‌] efforts to appear responsive to popular opinion may be ­targeted more to [‌. . .‌] leaders than to the public. . . . Even if appeals to populist traditions are in significant part rhetorical, they may be important tools to emphasize [‌. . .‌] loyalty to the state and to legitimatize efforts to make the [‌. . .‌] system more responsive to the grievances of ordinary people.52

Is this Schneewind writing of Wang’s conversation with the Cheng’an people? No, it is Benjamin Liebman writing of judges and legal officials 51. Wang Chaoxiang, “Record of the Living Shrine to County Magistrate Mr. Zhang Jiuhua.” Given the short time that Zhang had served in the county (they say two years, but it was less), the terms in which they laud Zhang seem extravagant. Wang’s discussion of the spread of Zhang’s influence may also allude to Sima Guang’s “Record of the Offering Hall to Han [Qi], Duke of Wei.” 52. Liebman, “Return to Populist Legality?,” 184.

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in the People’s Republic of China in the early twenty-first century and their relationship with Chinese Communist Party leaders in an era of judicial reform. Just as political scientists working today consider, without always being able to see them clearly, the uses and manipulations by local power holders and even ordinary people of ideological positions promulgated by the center for the center, so must we be willing to consider possibilities that the historical record suggests but does not demonstrate absolutely.

Gentrification Class conflict was real in Ming communities. Literary luminary Gui Youguang’s service as magistrate was cut short because he so antagonized the wealthy families of the jurisdiction. He tried to mend matters by writing that both classes were his metaphorical children: “As a parent to the people, how should I not feel abundant compassion for the well-to-do, and concentrate solely upon the small folk?”53 Some premortem steles likewise directly address the split local constituency by portraying how administrators both educated literati and nourished commoners, and how gratefully both responded.54 Aligning with the finding in chapter 2 that shrines mainly rewarded livelihood and security issues, however, a historian in the 1930s identified sponsorship and offerings from the common masses as a distinguishing characteristic of living shrines, precisely because they were the ones whom the enshrinees benefited.55 Infrastructure and other policies might benefit all, but most pitted one interest against another. Some conflicts were resolved locally: the big families initially resisted Magistrate Tang’s tax reforms but were eventually won over, his premortem stele claimed.56 53. Carlitz, “Wang Shizhen,” 56. 54. Gao Yue, “Gone Yet Remembered Record for Father-and-Mother Cheng [‌Xun‌]”; Wei Kewan, “Stele on the Virtuous Governance of Yuanshi County Magistrate Mr. Zheng [‌Sanjun‌].” 55. Yu Hongnyŏl, “Chosŏn samyo palsaeng,” 137. 56. These were changes in the way salt taxes were managed. Chen Rang, “Stele for the Premortem Shrine to Nan’an Magistrate Tang [‌A i‌].” Neighboring counties also objected (1737 FJ Fujian tongzhi 30/30).

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But living shrines also figured in intracounty struggles, which the powerful could shift up to the center. An example is the case of scholar-official Kuang Fan. Kuang consistently pursued practical solutions to livelihood issues, such as preventing fires, and he fought the practice of abandoning baby girls.57 Kuang had some spiritual power, too: he solved a murder when the victim appeared to him in a dream. At an early post in Wu County, he alienated the wealthy with lijia reform but outmaneuvered them, and, when he left, the—that is, some—gentry and commoners engraved a stone recording his legacy of love. Finally, as prefect of Ruizhou, he risked his life in defeating and capturing bandits. The emperor recognized Kuang Fan’s efforts, but, when he went to the capital for evaluation in 1515, powerful Ruizhou families stirred up rumors against him and filed false charges. He defended himself by saying he had saved a million lives in Ruizhou, but his enemies engineered his dismissal. The—that is, some—Ruizhou gentry and commoners “were as upset as if they had lost a parent. They built a shrine and made an image to serve (shi) him.”58 The shrine registered a protest, in this case ineffectual, against the corruption by local elite families of the central bureaucracy. Joanna Handlin Smith has pointed out that charitable gentrymen in late Ming times pushed resident administrators to play bad cop.59 By contrast, premortem discourse figured the administrator as the good cop, a hero protecting commoners from abusive local gentry by equalizing tax burdens and the like. But, just as historian Kai-wing Chow has shown that Qing gentry increasingly enclosed commoners in gentrydominated institutions, such as the lineage,60 in Ming times, gentrification affected even premortem shrines. Ho Shu-yi has convincingly 57. Fei Hong, “Epitaph for Kuang Fan.” Kuang also built community schools and attacked “improper shrines” (1871 JX Gao’an xianzhi 7/34). Kuang wrote a convenient reference book for ordinary people, called Bian min tuzuan. It illustrates farming and sericulture, and lists lucky and unlucky days, and when to worship lucky and unlucky spirits. 58. Fei Hong, “Epitaph for Kuang Fan”; 1732 JX Jiangxi tongzhi 60/17. Kuang was involved in compiling the 1515 prefectural gazetteer, and his epitaph would cast him in the best light. 59. Smith, Art of Doing Good, 198, 207, 260. 60. Chow, Rise of Confucian Ritualism, 225.

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detailed how Jiaxing gentry used living shrine steles to intervene in the prefecture’s complex conflicts over false land registration, tax evasion, tax and silk requisitions, and especially landownership.61 But a second look at Jiaxing shows that in this wealthy, corrupt, powerful center of claims to gentry sovereignty—for this is the homeland of the “three” enshrined Mr. Dings of chapter 2—late Ming gentry were intentionally coopting a popular institution. Yang Jizong’s full nine-year term in Jiaxing (1465–74) made up part of a long career spent fighting state wrongdoing: as secretary in the Board of Punishments, Yang improved the scandalous conditions in jail, where disease was killing prisoners; he released a man who had selflessly substituted himself for a thief he was escorting to court when the thief escaped, saving the other escort from punishment; in the Beijing area he protected commoners’ lands from the encroachments of nobility; and in Zhejiang he figured out the source of shortfalls that had landed more than ten granary officials in jail and had forced them to put their children up for sale. As prefect of Jiaxing, Yang posted a placard inviting complaints about a censor who was beating community elders to death in the interests of “purifying the troops.” He met eunuch demands for cash by showing them the coffers and shaming them with the comment “My commoners (wo baixing) are poor and cannot pay up.” He so impressed eunuch dictator Wang Zhi, whom he refused to meet, that Wang praised him as indifferent to money: a compliment that lodged in the emperor’s mind and turned away a later impeachment. Yang overcame various legal and bureaucratic hurdles to get a father-and-son team of bullies sentenced to death, inspiring a popular ditty. And he saved up enough grain to feed the prefecture through two periods of famine and even help other parts of Zhejiang.62 As one biography put it, “The soldiers and commoners loved him like 61. Ho Shu-yi, “Wan Ming difangguan shengci,” 829–38. 62. Yang was promoted to surveillance commissioner in 1478 and was promoted again in 1484; he died in 1488 and was granted posthumous titles in 1511 and 1603. Many of the anecdotes in the 1549 Jiaxing fu tuzhi biography made it into Fu Weilin’s Mingshu (123/1453–54) and into the later official Mingshi (14/159/4350–52); the former reports the premortem shrine, but the latter does not. 1549 ZJ Jiaxing fu tuzhi 11/10–11. On Yang Jizong’s auspicious grain—not uncommon in Jiaxing—see also Zhu Guozhen, Yongzhuang xiaopin 13/4–5.

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a father and mother; the officials and clerks feared him like a spirit bright.”63 Yang earned approbation from Heaven, praise at court, and honor in the locality. As the 1549 prefectural gazetteer’s biography says: The people loved him like a father and mother. The Son of Heaven heard his name. Lucky grain sprouted in the wild. When his term was complete and he was leaving, more than ten thousand men and women wept and detained him. Even now they make offerings (zu dou), more strictly every day. The shimin compiled for him a legacy of love record to transmit him. Here we just give in outline the most unusual points.64

No premortem shrine is mentioned here, so people could have been making offerings at home or elsewhere, as we shall see. The Jiajing (1549) gazetteer offers an “outline” (lüe) of local gentryman Fei Hong’s “Record of Mr. Yang’s Legacy of Love Shrine,” written in 1519, three decades after Yang’s death. The Jiajing gazetteerist cut the text by about a third compared with the version in Fei Hong’s collected works, and the 1596 Xiushui County gazetteer cut more and made some rewordings. The successive changes magnify the elite and downplay commoners. Here I italicize words that the gazetteers omitted from Fei Hong’s text: It has been fifty years since [‌Prefect Yang Jizong‌] left, and the people of the prefecture still think of him as if it has been a day. These little people said: “His Honor’s virtue is in us. When we die, his legacy soaks into our sons and grandsons. We certainly cannot forget His Honor. As generations change, incidents become more distant. So how can we make our sons, even grandsons, understand His Honor’s virtue and not forget?” The gentlemen then said: “To repay His Honor, there are offerings and sacrifices one can make; to transmit His Honor, there are metal and stone one can inscribe: these create not-forgetting, even over a hundred generations, how much less just by our sons or grandsons!” . . . Mr. Fan Yan and others thus in accordance with the will of the masses reported to [‌Prefect Xu Ying‌]. He therefore measured the unused land [‌Fei Hong’s original has the ‌ old location] of the Zhaodi temple and gained the happy assistance

63. 1561 ZJ Zhejiang tongzhi 35/15 (721). 64. 1549 ZJ Jiaxing fu tuzhi 11/10–11.

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of the people to gather workers to follow through on the matter. He also destroyed an improper shrine and used its materials to help with it.65

The elite appear as the prime sponsors of the shrine, an effect magnified by the omissions. The people ask how to commemorate Yang, and the gentry answer. Prefect Xu takes a leading role in acting on everyone’s will, even destroying one or two existing places of worship that had been built with local support.66 The 1596 gazetteer cuts even more, replacing the complexity of the people’s emotional connection to Yang, “both happy and sad” (qie xi qie bei)—happy to be able to make offerings to him, sad that he is gone—with the less emotional “both deep and long lasting” (qie shen qie jiu). The cuts mar Fei’s balanced, literary sentences and would not have been made before Fei’s death in 1535—not on the stele itself, therefore. They are the work of the gazetteerists. Further downplaying the breadth and depth of public opinion, the gazetteers omit that “everyone” (zhong) requested the stele from Fei and omit Fei’s explanation that the narrative he relied on to write the stele was by Dai Jing, a local gentryman the 1596 prefectural gazetteerists considered uncouth.67 Finally, Fei had lauded Prefect Xu at the end of his original text: he is doing such a good job that the prefectural people only fear they will lose him soon. “This is what I have heard as public opinion” (yusong), Fei concludes; but the gazetteer versions end several sentences earlier and omit this. A public opinion that included commoners, still possible in 1519, was no longer welcome in Jiaxing by 1549. By 1596, gentry editors appear actively hostile to a potent bond between an upright, gentry-fighting prefect and the commoners of the jurisdiction, an alliance that threatened the gentry’s moral authority

65. Fei Hong, “Record of Mr. Yang’s Shrine.” 66. As well as the “improper shrine,” yinci, the Zhaodi temple, dating back to Tang, had survived the Hongwu-era amalgamations that had affected some other temples listed in the 1596 gazetteer, but it was defunct by 1549 and may or may not have been destroyed to make the Yang shrine. I plan to pursue the connections of premortem shrines with high Ming attacks on “improper shrines” in future research. 67. Dai Jing served in office and in retirement wrote Xiushui’s first gazetteer. The preface to the 1596 gazetteer (p. 1) calls the prose of the earlier version unrefined and its contents incomplete.

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and claim to sovereignty in the local sphere just as surely as the emperor’s claim to speak for the people robbed them of it at court. Especially since the bond was not just political, but also spiritual. Among other omissions, the gazetteerists cut a section of Fei’s record for Yang Jizong that opens with a reference to the Book of Changes: Sincerity influences even ghosts and spirits, pigs and fish, and it lasts as long as Heaven and Earth. Therefore, the people of the prefecture, yearning for His Honor, of course wish to make offerings and pray in order to make His Honor a recompense. Is it possible that His Honor’s powerful influence/spirit (wei ling) has been able to stimulate this legacy of his among the commoners in this way?68

This passage in Fei’s original version stresses worship and recompense among the commoners, rather than gentry emulation and admiration. Fei also wrote that the shrine would have two purposes: encouraging those who are to come (i.e., later Jiaxing prefects) and comforting the people’s longing. This passage, which the gazetteers also omit, emphasizes the wishes of the Jiaxing commoners (“the black-haired people”). Fei emphasizes the magic power of sincerity, working like virtue or ling to influence the whole cosmos from deities to commoners to fish and lasting forever; he even uses the term ling as a synonym for sincerity in a compound word. The passage also emphasizes the religious side of the shrine, offerings and prayers stimulated by Yang’s own efficacious sincerity. Who really initiated the worship of Yang, and when? The 1596 county gazetteer credits Prefect Xu.69 The 1549 prefectural gazetteer adds a precise year but does not mention Xu, instead saying “the matter of building rested with the people.” Yang’s death notice in the Veritable Records reports only a departure stele, not a living shrine.70 Writing in 1519, Fei named Fan Yan as the main local sponsor of Yang Jizong’s (by 68. Fei Hong, “Record of Mr. Yang’s Legacy of Love Shrine,” 8/29a. 69. 1596 ZJ Xiushui xianzhi 2/6b (110). 70. Ming Xiaozong shilu 19/457–59, for Hongzhi 1.10 (January–February 1488). This refers to the short departure record by Jiashan juren Zhi Li, 1672 ZJ Jiaxing fuzhi 18/44–45.

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then) posthumous shrine and said nothing clear about an existing shrine. In 1519, Fan Yan had not even passed his provincial exam—he was still a student. Four decades later, he was still around, ranting (in a shrine record for yet another prefect) about improper class mixing in a political atmosphere of hyper-righteousness and boasting about the ancient flavor of Jiaxing’s tradition of premortem enshrinement.71 In that 1564 record, running through achievements of the five enshrined prefects, Fan comments on Yang Jizong: The people of the prefecture yearned for him in their bosoms. They assembled in the villages to sacrifice to him in the open 里聚而野祭焉. The various students feared that this was sacrilegious (du), and they first requested a shrine in the prefectural city to be recorded in the roster of sacrifices.72

The local students worried by the kind of existing worship and “first” requesting a proper shrine must have included Fan himself, in 1519. People had been sacrificing to Yang in the open for as long as five decades after his departure in 1474. Furthermore, the 1549 prefectural gazetteer reports that, in addition to the commemorated shrine, Jia­ shan County had two “Mr. Yang shrines.”73 These shrines, too, may have been set up by commoners, for they apparently warranted no steles. They may have been the open-air shrines to which Fan Yan and other students objected not because Yang was alive, but because as a human he should have been worshiped under a roof. Yang Jizong had earned premortem popular worship long before the gentry took action. Yang was a natural candidate for popular honors, with his effective public service, his absolute uprightness in money matters, his charisma sufficient to charm even a eunuch dictator, and his local auspicious omens. He would have appealed much less to the 71. Prefect Xu himself was later enshrined alive in Jiaxing and then was entered into the Shrine to Eminent Officials. 1672 ZJ Jiaxing fuzhi 7/2 and Fan Yan, “Stele Record and Poem for the Living Shrine to Prefect Hou [‌Donglai‌].” 72. Fan Yan, “Stele Record and Poem for the Living Shrine to Prefect Hou [‌Donglai‌].” 73. Also reported in 1672 ZJ Jiaxing fuzhi 7/10 (252).

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Jiaxing gentry, committed to cheating on their taxes to the point of destroying registers and raising mobs against resident administrators. In fact, Zhu Guozhen commented in late Ming that, although people still praised Yang Jizong, they rarely knew about his local posts in Jia­ xing and Ningxia.74 The Jiaxing deployment of premortem shrines and steles that Ho Shu-yi documents represented a gentry takeover of what had been a more popular institution. Scholar-officials had long seen themselves as the center or moral backbone of the wider public, expressing but also leading and managing public opinion. Certainly some gentry invoked “the people’s views” to mean only “the truth, even if only I see it.” Commemorating a shrine to a friend who had run into difficulties (unjustly, of course) with a superior in a later post, Wang Shizhen also takes the opportunity to lament that, even in the wonderful era of governance and peace he lived in, there were still those above who were blind; for he quotes himself as saying, When the public opinion of the whole world is not [‌expressed‌] above, it will be below 天下之公論不在上則在下. When the world is properly governed, above and below will both display [‌public opinion‌], but when [‌governance‌] weakens, it is often obscured above and displayed below.75

One could read this and the succeeding sentences as arguing that the people actually determine the correct public opinion and also established the correct way of the Three Dynasties of antiquity, but more likely Wang means that “public opinion” is correct, broad-minded opinion, which different parties may recognize at different times, and the arbiters were educated men.

74. Zhu Guozhen, Yongzhuang xiaopin 13/4. Yang’s shrine lasted into Qing times, 1672 ZJ Jiaxing fuzhi 7/2, 7/5 (148–49). 75. Wang Shizhen, “Preface to the ‘Living Shrine Record’ for Guidong [‌Former‌] Magistrate Mr. Ma.”

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Huang Zongxi, in speaking of “public opinion” in 1663, meant views formed among highly educated men in schools and academies, although educated commoners should also, he thought, be eligible to lead the schools.76 And why not, when they were already judging and guiding local government? Gu Yanwu went a little further: he argued that the formation of “public opinion” should be entrusted by the state to the village level, where candidates for office could be investigated and vetoed. Gu distinguished the secondary, political order of the dynastic regime from the primary social order of the world (tianxia), for whose civilized life everyone—“even the humblest of commoners” (pifu zhi jian)—bears responsibility. He argued, however, that the uneducated may only bear witness, not make decisions.77 Gu programmatized existing Ming bottom-up practices and ways of talking but reacted against their more robust populism.78 That educated men alone could know or should decide was a common view. But in all the wide wide world, were there other views? The populist and egalitarian strands historians have located in various arenas of Ming life and perhaps earlier mean that commoners could perfectly well have claimed their right to think and speak politically, a legitimate right explicitly laid out not only in Ming law, but also in public stele essays written by high-ranking elite men, including numerous ministers of rites. Living shrines add an explicitly political dimension to our picture of Ming populism in four ways. First, historian John E. Wills represents a common view when he presents the common people as “politically passive except in times of gravest crisis.”79 Looking at living shrines as sites of political participation shifts attention to more ordinary times. 76. Huang Zongxi, Waiting for the Dawn, 57, 105–6. 77. Delury, “Despotism,” 280, 292–93, 310–14. 78. Another reactionary is discussed in Weisfogel, Late Ming Vision. Still, an understanding of public opinion that included specific groups went beyond its abstract conception by some in Europe even in the eighteenth century. Gunn, “Public Opinion,” 250. In the twentieth century, Mao Zedong aligned with Gu Yanwu: the mass line collected popular views, but the Party central would decide; Mao called this theory of the mass line “public opinion” (yu lun). Mao also used the term ganying. Thornton, “Retrofitting the Steel Frame,” 238, 241–42, 243. 79. Wills, Mountain of Fame, 23.

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Locals do clamor for attention when in desperate straits but also pursue their interests as an ongoing project: objecting to taxes and abuses, lauding and even demanding positive policies. Steles differ as a venue for political speech from sung ditties, shouted slogans, and ephemeral posters; they stand in a public place for years, even generations. Shrines differ from riots and strikes; they are buildings requiring coordinated effort and ongoing investment. Second, in the premortem genre commoners do cooperate with local gentry and students but sometimes take the lead as the sponsors of honors and criticisms of the bureaucrats delegated by the Son of Heaven. Third, premortem steles go beyond popular emotion and the strange ditties of Han times to present conversations in which commoners articulate their views rationally and thoughtfully. Finally, even steles written by high-ranking officials present the political participation of locals, including commoners, not merely as a practical fact of life, but as fully legitimate within the terms of the Mandate ideology of governance. Even if elite men did not normally—that is, outside the premortem genre—accept that commoners could hold or should express political views, commoners reading premortem steles might well have taken away the message of a populist ideology of governance. The small religious sect putting up posters to stop the Jiajing emperor from touring the south apparently thought they had a right to political speech.80 Another way commoners claimed their right to political speech was by contributing to historiography in the form of local gazetteers, whose data fed into the praise and blame handed out by central historiographers. When a new edition of a gazetteer was planned, both earlier editions and information about who deserved commemoration, which government policies should be followed, and which had changed were publicly solicited from everyone, including commoners. Five farmers of different surnames did the calligraphy for one gazetteer.81 A geographical work by serial live enshrinee Guo Zizhang claimed that, by reading such books of geography, “an ordinary man (pifu) could contribute to the cause of the Son of Heaven.” Commoners not only read, but also worked on gazetteers, which were

80. Fisher, “Center and Periphery,” 21. 81. Dennis, Writing, Publishing, and Reading, 129–36, 145, 150, 151, 193, 195.

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meant for a broad readership yet were understood as contributing to statecraft, to “ordering the world.” A Ming commoner wrote in prefacing his own geographical compilation that, despite status anxieties, he saw himself as having a political role, as a commoner. He revises the trope of irrepressible feeling for a thoughtful, scholarly enterprise. Loaded with ideas inside, he wanted to present advice to people in power even though he is just a commoner. But that may provoke narrow-minded people to label him a “crazy student.” It does not help to move beyond what one’s status allows. Yet his heart cannot stand keeping silence. So he took out all the geographical works and edited them, and eventually compiled this book to be published and circulated throughout the All-under-Heaven.82

This commoner claimed a legitimate political role. Alert to the silencing and rewording that power demands, we should recognize that commoners more generally may have thought they deserved more of a political role than they could actually play, especially since the landscape bore texts glorifying the people’s views. Late Ming gentry elite men began to say things like “all people are essentially the same—rich and poor” and to organize charitable associations together with commoners. Such associations, Smith argues, provided legitimate grounds for joint action just at the time when the center was cracking down on academies and literary societies.83 But joint action of commoners with or without gentry had long been accepted in the repertoire of honors and the founding of living shrines. It may have been that background and not only the charitable governance activities of the associations that led resident administrators to accept the associations as legitimate. If gentry cooperation with commoners gave gentry the right to organize and speak, commoners could equally well have claimed their own right to organize and speak, even if the reality of gentry domination, the shouts of the Donglin men, and Qing absolutism drowned them out.

82. Du, “Literati and Spatial Order,” 22, 27. 83. Smith, The Art of Doing Good, 105, 120.

Part Three

Walls and Roof

Chapter Seven

A Political Investment

I

n Ming times as now, Shahe County in Beizhili lay along a heavily trafficked route in north China. It was considered difficult to govern, and its 30,000 or so people, burdened with transport labor for the imperial state, lived in poverty and trouble so dire that one incoming magistrate, after interviewing local elders, “sympathetically heaved a big sigh and said, ‘How could people be so unlucky as to be born in this place?’”1 Yet, by 1589, when the county gazetteer recording these conditions was first compiled, this poor county boasted, in addition to the required state temples, a temple complex honoring six former magistrates and a number of records inscribed on stone honoring others. In the temple, called the Shrine for Recognizing Virtue, each magistrate had a tablet recording his name and titles, arranged in chronological order in heavily ornamented niches. Their images sat arrayed in caps and gowns in the main hall, which had a great gate before it and enough space, the gazetteer says, that locals could visit for relaxation. Probably there were also smaller buildings flanking the courtyard for preparing

1. 1609+ BZ Shahe xianzhi 5/1 (63). Shahe was in Shunde Prefecture in southern Beizhili (presently Hebei) near the borders with Henan and Shanxi (37º North, 114.5º East). For population figures (usually an undercount in Ming times) that show growth of only 187 households, increasing from seven to ten members, see 3/2 (45–46). The increasing deficit of women also signals local poverty. For the quotation, see Anon., “Gone Yet Remembered Stele for Magistrate Mr. Mao [‌Guoxian‌],” 204.

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the offerings, a few trees, and a surrounding wall with a carved and painted gate topped with a signboard giving the shrine’s name. The shrine and steles represented a significant outlay of resources. If Shahe had wanted merely to honor its departing magistrates, people could have engaged in ritualized reluctant farewells such as weeping, lying in the road, and pulling on the carriage; or they could have drawn or purchased simple pictures to put on home altars. What could make such an expense worthwhile for so poor a county? These honors constituted a calculated investment in influencing local government and claiming a political voice. Shahe people, like locals elsewhere but more systematically, used shrines and steles to attempt—often in vain—to create a sense of an ongoing relationship with magistrates who came and went, and to stake a claim on their loyalty to override the demands of the center. Short on educated men, Shahe first published a gazetteer very late, in 1589, at the demand of the regional inspector.2 Magistrate Ji Zixiu (nominally) and two county school teachers compiling it could not even find full records of its magistrates before 1471. A later magistrate updated it in 1609; and the edition preserved today was updated again to list magistrates serving until 1616. Magistrate Ji’s preface (we cannot know how much he actually wrote of the gazetteer) strikes a serious note from the outset: gazetteers are records of a county’s affairs, he says, but they are not meant for ostentatious display; rather, they take the form of a “veritable record” (a term for imperial court records). Ostentatious display was hardly an option: without the famous families, beautiful sights, and poetic appreciations that cram some gazetteers, Shahe’s only claim to fame was the grave of a Tang statesman. In place of locals, the gazetteer devotes an unusual amount of space to magistrates, compiling and preserving existing texts about them. Shahe writers explicitly place the county in the long national tradition of grateful remembrance. Employing common tropes in the premortem genre, one stele refers to a Han official enshrined in his former jurisdiction after death and the poem in Odes about the tree under which Duke Shao had administered justice: 2. Shahe did produce a few officials, including Xu Neng, who was enshrined alive as assistant transmission commissioner in Zhejiang (1609+ BZ Shahe xianzhi, 91).



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There was the [‌posthumous‌] shrine to [‌beloved Han era official‌] Wen Weng in western Sichuan, and the southern lands thought of Duke Shao to the point of warning one another not to cut the branches [‌of the sweet pear tree‌]. This is the sweet-pear human feeling. In using ritual to express emotion, how could the Shahe people alone be different?3

Shahe’s shrines and steles are like those discussed in the rest of this book, but they are worth considering in some detail because they were unusually numerous and well organized.

Angling for Connections? The idea that premortem shrines constituted gentry sycophancy in hopes of future aid presumes, first, that honorees were moving up or likely to do so; second, that honorees gained something from local honors; and, third, that it was local gentry or would-be gentry (highly educated men hoping for official appointments) who sponsored shrines and departure steles. I will examine each of these assumptions for Shahe. First, nationally, magistrates were far more likely to make good careers than lower-ranking resident officials (instructors or wardens), and Ming Shahe did indeed honor only its magistrates, with one exception (table 7.1 lists Shahe magistrates and their honors, including what the gazetteer said about them). In addition, magistrates’ career expectations varied by civil service degree: metropolitan graduates (jinshi) often began as magistrates and moved up; provincial graduates (juren) might end as magistrates or in prefectural positions, rarely higher; for National University students and others, holding a post as magistrate would be the high point.4 Did Shahe discriminate among magistrates on the basis of examination rank? All three of the sixty-five Ming magistrates who held the metropolitan degree indeed were honored before death: Fang Hao received the first Ming Gone Yet Remembered stele. But ten of the thirty-four magistrates with provincial degrees also won honors, including six enshrinements. Two of the

3. Hu Sanxing, “Record of Repairs to the Offering Hall to Former Magistrates.” 4. Nimick, Local Administration, 88.

Chen Boxiang 陳伯祥

Yan Zhongde 顏仲德

1297+

ca. 1333

Zhuang Lin 莊麟

Li Kan 李戡

Si Ding 司鼎

Hongwu (1368–98)

Yongle (1398–1424)

Xuande (1426–35)

Ming period

Li Zirong 李滋榮 (assistant magistrate)

Sun Deyuan 孫德淵

1330–at least 1335

Yuan period

Jin period

Period or year took office Name

Civil service degree if known

“Determined and cautious, he built many things.”

“The people set up a stone praising his virtue and Yang Pu made a stele.”

“The gentry and the people set up a stele to him in the school building.”

“The commoners engraved a stone for him, to make offerings (si).”

Honors reported in list or biography

yes

yes

Stele?

Table 7.1 Magistrates of Shahe County and their honors Premortem shrine?

Eminent Officials Shrine

Eminent Officials Shrine

Posthumous enshrinement?

Liu Jing 劉敬

Wang Ye 王燁

Zhang Jin 張瑾

Lang Xin 郎信

Cao Zhong 操忠

Zhou Jun 周俊

Cheng Xin 成信

Yue Jun 岳俊

Zhuang Su 莊肅

Ge Zhen 葛禎

Wang Rang 王讓

Zhang Fan 張璠

Wang Xi 王璽

Xu Zhang 許璋

Lu Hui 路譓

Zhang Jin 張謹

Xuande

Zhengtong (1436–49)

Zhengtong

Jingtai (1450–56)

1450s

Tianshun (1457–66)

1471

1476

1482

1484

1490

1494

1497

1499

1502

1505

student

student

juren

juren

juren

student

student

student

student

juren

Diligent in repairs, without demanding labor from the commoners. Said to have gotten things done.

“Resolute and intelligent, he got things [‌repairs‌] done.”

(continued)

juren

Jing Xixian 靖希賢

Zhang Ji 張紀

Wang Bingao 王賓高

Chen Bin 陳斌

Xu Ji 徐濟

Fang Hao 方豪

Wang Jun 汪濬

Liu 劉

Chai Yu 柴虞

Liu Bi 劉碧

Su Huan 蘇煥

Yao Zhong 姚鍾

Zhuang Wenxue 莊文學

Rao Bojun 饒伯鈞

1508

1510

1511

1513

1515

1517

1519

1520

1523

1525

1527

1529

1530

1532

student

juren

juren

juren

student

student

juren

jinshi

juren

student

student

student

Civil service degree if known

Period or year took office Name

Likened to Fang Hao.

“Gentry and commoners competed to buy his coffin.”

“Merciful. . . . The commoners set up a departure stele for him.”

Honors reported in list or biography

Table 7.1 (continued)

yes

yes

Stele?

Premortem shrine?

Eminent Officials Shrine

Eminent Officials Shrine

Posthumous enshrinement?

Dong Xiang 董相

Wang Jinlu 王進祿

Li Biao 李表

Zhang Ai 張愛

Ren Huan 任環

Zhao Yao 趙鑰

Mao Guoxian 毛國賢

Ding Chengshi 丁成式

Li Song 李松

Liu Mengxian 劉孟賢

Yang Shiqing 楊世卿

Feng Dong 馮棟

1535

1538

1541

1544

1545

1548

1550

1557

1559

1561

1562

1566

juren

juren

juren

juren

juren

juren

juren

jinshi

juren

student

juren

student

“The people set up shrine offerings to him.”

“The people set up a shrine to make offerings to him.”

yes

yes

added to Ren shrine

added to Ren shrine

1548; rebuilt as Former Magistrates Shrine, ca. 1585

(continued)

Former Magistrates shrine, ca. 1585

Former Magistrates Shrine, ca. 1585

Eminent Officials Shrine

Sun Congjiao 孫從教

Zhao 趙

Han Shi 韓士

Hou Rui 侯銳

Yue Zhendong 岳鎮東

Gao Shangde 郜尚德

Jiang Guifang 姜桂芳

1574

1575

1576

1578

1580

1582

1583

juren

student

juren

student

student

student “On the day he left, the gentry and the people sent him off, uncountable numbers of people all weeping. [‌They‌] set up shrine sacrifices for him.”

Left to mourn.

“On the day he left, people held the shafts and blocked the road, setting up shrine sacrifices to him.”

juren (1552)

Xiao Pan 蕭泮

1571

juren

“The people responded to and made offerings to him.”

juren

Wang Jinchao 王進朝

1568

Honors reported in list or biography

Civil service degree if known

Period or year took office Name

Table 7.1 (continued)

first in West Shrine

Premortem shrine?

Added to West Shrine

several, but added to West no departure Shrine stele

Stele?

moved to Former Magistrates Shrine, ca. 1585

moved to Former Magistrates Shrine, ca. 1585

moved to Former Magistrates Shrine, ca. 1585

Posthumous enshrinement?

Ji Zixiu 姬自修

Xiang Bai 向栢

Wang Xun 王訓

Wang Mengbu 王夢卜

Shi Yulu 史與祿

Ding Tianxiang 丁天相

Tu Biao 涂表

Gu Shiyan 谷師顏

Du Min 杜旻

Jiao Yuanpu 焦源溥

Chen Jin 陳藎

1588

1591

1593

1595

1597

1601

1603

1605

1610–15

1614

1616

“Like the sun in winter. . . . Later, people missed him even more and set up a living shrine to make offerings to him.” People accompanied him to new post and local elders set up living sacrifices. Made the people wealthy and educated them; the county people missed him and set up a living shrine.

jinshi

juren, sixth on list

Son wins degree.

“This is our father.”

juren

juren

juren

student

juren

juren

juren

student

juren

juren

Source: 1609+ BZ Shahe xianzhi 5/1–6 (63–74).

Wang Ping 王屏

1586

two steles named in comment, not included in gazetteer

living shrine not otherwise attested in ­gazetteer

living shrine not otherwise attested in ­gazetteer

living shrine not otherwise attested in ­gazetteer

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twenty students received honorable mention in the gazetteer; a third, Liu Bi, received a departure stele; and a fourth, Han Shi, was enshrined.5 In short, Shahe often honored those without great expectations. Second, honors from the jurisdiction might help a career by demonstrating competence. We see this in the 1519 Shahe departure stele for Fang Hao, by county school instructor Yang Chuan, which mixes unusually blatant flattery, backhanded denigration, and pedantry. Magistrate Fang had been in the county only a year or less (1517–18), requiring some creativity to make it plausible that he had had a great impact. In poor and difficult Shahe, Instructor Yang writes, Fang had been able to promote learning, settle lawsuits, feed people, emphasize the rites, and so on, so that, when word came of his transfer, “the commoners” (bai­ xing) of Shahe personally traveled to the supervising circuit to request to retain him but in vain. Yang’s convoluted argument begins with a commonplace observation about the parental metaphor. I take it that prefects and magistrates are put in office to be officials close to the people/parents to the people (qin min zhi guan), and this is especially true of magistrates. Even if a magistrate rules them with the /his/ their‌Way, he still needs to hold the post for a long time, and only then can he win their hearts. Well, the Zilu chapter of the Analects says, “If good men ruled a country for a hundred years, they could win out over cruelty and do away with the death penalty.” It also says, “If someone employed me [‌i.e., Confucius‌], with one full year I could achieve something, and in three years it would be complete.” In this case, Mr. Fang was not even here for a full year. How could he have so deeply won the people’s hearts! Even our Confucius is not his equal! Ah! [‌To paraphrase Mencius:‌] “How can Confucius be matched?” It is because at this time the people face such bitter anxiety, harsh difficulties, poverty, and danger that, if those above are able to extend one measure of bounty, then those below receive it like ten measures of grace. It is as if they have thirst so 5. Examination status and office rank mattered more for the more official Shrine to Eminent Officials. For instance, the Yuan-period assistant magistrate (the number three man) Li Zirong, who earned Shahe’s earliest preserved departure stele, was more popular than his superior, Magistrate Yan Zhongde. Yet, long after their deaths, it was the higher-ranking Yan who entered the Shrine to Eminent Officials. 1609+ BZ Shahe xianzhi 5/7 (76).



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great a river cannot quench it, hunger so great that beans and grain cannot sate it. As Mencius says, “With half the merit of the ancients, [‌someone acting now‌] can double their achievement.” Dare I say that Mr. Fang’s winning the hearts of the people is like this?6

Magistrates are the officials closest to the people not as delegates of the emperor, but because of their own ability to “win hearts-and-minds” (de qi xin). Magistrate Fang, Yang argues, earned popularity despite a shorter tenure than even that Confucius said he himself would need and despite having only half the merit of the ancients. Why? Because the Shahe people’s situation is so dire that they treasure every crumb of kindness from the table of the state. Yang mends the awkwardness of his compliments with a prediction that is, unusually for the genre, addressed directly to the honoree: “You will before long occupy a great place and attain great responsibility, as the years pass greatly practicing kindness to the people.” Yang then suggests that Fang’s time in Shahe affected his promotion. When he left Shahe, the people acted out many items in the repertoire of honors. They “accompanied him on the road, their tears flowing, holding onto the carriage, and pulling off his boots, unable to bear his departure. His Honor went and reported in to the court. In the end, public opinion had its return: in a short time he was promoted to secretary in the Ministry of Punishments.” 7 Yang seems to be suggesting that popularity in Shahe played directly into Fang’s promotion. If local popularity did aid Fang, his metropolitan degree and lit­erary skills had already positioned him to rise. Most of Shahe’s sixty-some Ming magistrates never held office again, about nine won 6. Yang Chuan, “Gone Yet Remembered Stele for Magistrate Mr. Fang [‌Hao‌],” 193–94. The Analects quotations are from 13.11 and 13.10. The Mencius reference is to 2A1 (Gongsun Chou), which asks, “How could King Wen [‌whose virtue won the Man­ date for the Zhou dynasty‌] be matched?” to suggest that standards need not be that high, and which also speaks of hunger and thirst to describe how gladly people will follow even a reasonably good leader in bad times. 7. Yang Chuan, “Gone Yet Remembered Stele for Magistrate Mr. Fang [‌Hao‌],” 194–95. Yang then lists Fang’s literary achievements (unusual for a living shrine), and indeed the official history places him among “literary figures”; see Mingshi 24/286/7357.

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promotion, and two or three moved to another magistracy.8 A few made it to assistant prefect (rank 6a) or prefect (4a). Fang Hao became secretary in a capital ministry (6a), and Ren Huan made his name fighting pirates, first as vice-subprefect (6b) of Suzhou and then in various posts up to military defense circuit vice-commissioner (4a) or even assistant provincial vice-commissioner (3b).9 Inscribed records of popularity in Shahe did not promote career success, so any flattery did not materially aid the men flattered. As for the third assumption, connections with an official serving elsewhere would have been most useful for local gentry needing sponsors and allies in the vast networks of the bureaucracy. Was it they who sponsored shrines and wrote steles in Shahe? Naturally, educated men had to compose the stele records. Once a shrine was planned or completed, the sponsors would ask a gentryman for an essay. In Shahe, the authors were not eminent: they included the instructor at the county school and others whose names are not even recorded—an anonymity unthinkable for ambitious Ming men. In fact, in Ming practice living shrines were supposed to be sponsored by commoners. As the departure stele for Mao Guoxian comments (not quite accurately): The commoners of themselves think of him. If it were not for His Honor’s benevolence and love winning over the people, how could that be the case? Moreover, there have been who knows how many former magistrates of our county, and yet setting up shrines and stones has occurred only for Mr. Fang and Mr. Ren and including His Honor [‌Mao‌] all together three men. Wah! The people’s hearts are not easily won! And, as for achieving a rise in rank and a promotion in office, His Honor [‌Mao‌] is the only one who received that. Wah! Magistrates of Shahe are not easily promoted. Not easy to win [‌hearts‌], not easy to be promoted: His Honor’s achieving both of these was really difficult.10

8. In the office ranking from a low of 9b to a high of 1a, magistrates were usually 7b. Mao Guoxian was transferred to the easier magistracy of Jiangning; Jiang Guifang became a prefect (rank 4a); Yang Shiqing topped out at vice-director of a bureau in a ministry (5b); and Wang Jinchao held some kind of military post. 9. Mingshi 18/205/5418. 10. Anon., “Gone Yet Remembered Stele for Magistrate Mr. Mao [‌Guoxian‌],” 207.



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It takes some work to figure out whether commoners really sponsored shrines. Shahe texts, like steles elsewhere, sometimes identify sponsors only in general terms. “Public sentiment (yu qing) was settled” when Magistrate Ren was entered into the Shrine to Eminent Officials. Both gentry and commoners are explicitly said to have been involved in the reconfiguration of the joint Shrine to Former Magistrates (see below).11 When Magistrate Jiao Yuanpu left in about 1616, premortem sacrifices to him were set up by local respected or influential commoners (xiang fulao), according to the Shahe gazetteer.12 Other Shahe texts identify sponsors more clearly, however. The two named “elders,” one old, one in his prime, who requested the stele for Magistrate Yan appear in no lists of notables in the gazetteer.13 Again, Instructor Yang wrote at the request of six named government students and seven named “elderly commoners” (qimin).14 These government students either never took office or became assistant instructors without rank; one earned a very short biography in the gazetteer by moving up one notch to instructor, also unranked.15 Yet they still outranked the “elderly commoners,” who appear nowhere else in the gazetteer. There is the same lack of information with regard to Magistrate Liu’s stele. After Liu’s send-off in 1527 by “several thousand Shahe gentry and commoners, young and old,” the “government student” Chen Ruzhou and others asked the unnamed author for an essay.16 Chen is not listed in the gazetteer, although all registered students should be. Again, the unnamed author of the stele for Magistrate Ren’s living shrine reports: Government student Zhang Dalun and others took the lead in promoting this righteous cause and led the local commoners (xiang min) in 11. Hu Sanxing, “Record of Repairs to the Offering Hall to Former Magistrates [by Magistrate Jiang Guifang],” 250, 251. 12. 1609+ BZ Shahe xianzhi 5/6 (74). 13. Yang [‌illegible‌], “Gone Yet Remembered Stele for County Magistrate Yan [‌Zhongde‌].” 14. Yang Chuan, “Gone Yet Remembered Stele for Magistrate Mr. Fang [‌Hao‌],” 193. 15. 1609+ BZ Shahe xianzhi 7/4–5 (126–27), 6/8 (98). 16. Anon., “Gone Yet Remembered Stele for County Magistrate Mr. Liu [‌Bi‌].”

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building a living shrine of three bays and setting a stone out front to transmit [‌Ren’s reputation‌] without it decaying. They all came to beg a text from me, saying: “Our group has inquired of the elders and investigated in the gazetteers and documents [‌a nd found that‌] from our country’s [‌establishment‌] 180 years ago, many have come to administer this place, but if one seeks those who are of our Mr. [‌Ren‌]’s caliber— rare indeed are such men. So [‌please‌] make an essay to make him known.”17

Zhang Dalun never earned a provincial degree, and his highest post was as instructor in Xiangning County.18 The rest of the group apparently held no titles at all. Similarly, “government student Zhang Xian and others” led locals to ask for an inscription about the reconstruction of the joint shrine.19 Zhang Xian appears in no gazetteer list. A group led by a man called a “government student” merely out of politeness cannot be considered an elite group. These sponsors were commoners. Shahe produced twenty-three Ming provincial graduates and about 160 students. Yet these local gentrymen and fringe gentry neither wrote the premortem steles nor sponsored the premortem shrines of Shahe County. Only one of Shahe’s three metropolitan graduates was involved at all: Hu Sanxing. And these steles may if anything overstate the role of the literate elite, since the gazetteer also lists shrines with no stele at all. In Shahe, the gentry flattery paradigm does not hold; its living shrines and steles honor men of various ranks, who generally did not rise high, and they were sponsored by commoners—grateful commoners. Yet gratitude, as much as flattery, is political.

17. Anon., “Record of the Offering Hall to County Magistrate Mr. Ren [‌Huan‌],” 199–200. Ren earned the first living shrine in Ming Shahe. Earlier, Magistrate Sun Deyuan from the Jin dynasty, after talking some bandits into peace, had received sacrifices at a stone the people engraved for him. 1609+ BZ Shahe xianzhi 5/1 (64). 18. 1609+ BZ Shahe xianzhi 7/5 (127). 19. Hu Sanxing, “Record of Repairs to the Offering Hall to Former Magistrates [‌by Magistrate Jiang Guifang],” 252.



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Gratitude as Political Speech In the Shahe gazetteer, the people’s judgment stands alongside the imperial court’s judgment. The introduction to the chapter on officials and teachers explains that the court places officials in their separate jurisdictions for the sake of the people, to govern and teach them. To recognize officials’ virtue and merit, the court has promotion, and the people have eternal remembrance. In difficult Shahe, the gazetteer continues, only about one in ten magistrates has managed to do a decent job, and even fewer have earned ritual offerings. Generally, the commoners have made their feelings known about the few who took care of them, and now the gazetteer has collected and recorded the expressions of the commoners’ feelings (min qing) so that posterity will be able to look up to them as teachers.20 This account first equates court promotion and popular remembrance. But the court’s judgment then recedes, leaving only the people’s well-­ being and their feelings. At first the court establishes teachers for the people; by the end, the people are determining who should teach incoming officials. It makes sense that local judgment matters more given that local honors for the few implied criticism of the many: after all, the same political center that posted the good 10 percent also posted the inadequate 90 percent. And what should officials be or do? Shahe liked positive action. The brief comments (0 to 125 words) on each Ming magistrate in the gazetteer’s list thrice laud magistrates for “getting things done” (you wei). Each stele included in the gazetteer details good policies, mainly focused on livelihood. Shahe particularly appreciated those who dealt with its key problem: the heavy demand of the central government for corvée labor and tax grain, imposed based on its location in the transport network. National University student Magistrate Rao Bojun arrived in 1532, and his listing explains: “The county was an important 20. The introduction to the gazetteer’s chapter on worship has already pointed out that the various registered spirits, from Confucius to the Altars of Soil and Grain, to worthies, all help the court in its business of rewarding and punishing. 1609+ BZ Shahe xianzhi 4/1 (59).

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transit point, and the necessary grain allowance for those coming and going had formerly been taken from the lijia [‌village tax groups or their heads‌]. [‌Rao‌] Bojun found other ways to do it.” Rao also lightened the burden of those who lived far west of the county seat yet had to report for every levy. Locals likened Rao to Magistrate Fang of fifteen years earlier, who held a metropolitan degree, earned a departure stele, and was entered into the Shrine to Eminent Officials. “Those who discussed it said that Magistrate Rao’s protection was like that of Fang Hao, but he got even more done.”21 In a crisis in 1614, an imperial edict ordered each county to transport its own requisitioned grain, and other counties deputed the big clans with carts and oxen to do it. But Magistrate Jiao Yuanpu said that surely “rescuing the people” (as in Mencius and other scriptures) meant having sympathy for them; he could not bear burdening them in this way. Instead, he deputed government staff and paid them out of public money. When he left, Shahe people accompanied him on the road to his new posting in the next prefecture, about ninety miles away, and local elders arranged ritual offerings to him.22 Again, Magistrate Du Min, honest and efficient, lowered the labor demands; the gazetteer honors him as nourishing the people “like the sun in winter,” and he was enshrined.23 Ren Huan, who earned the first living shrine in Ming Shahe, dealt with transport and lodging demands so well that many people returned to their proper livelihoods, and “everybody heard about it and treasured his virtue and intelligence.”24 Shahe’s basic problem stemmed from its location in the state transportation network, and people appreciated magistrates who stood up to higher levels of bureaucracy. When Magistrate Yao Zhong arrived in 1529, according to the gazetteer, the county was deeply exhausted and worn out. When he first arrived, he selected the [‌measures‌] that would most convenience the commoners 21. 1609+ BZ Shahe xianzhi 5/3 (68). 22. 1609+ BZ Shahe xianzhi 5/5 (73–74). 23. 1609+ BZ Shahe xianzhi 5/6 (73). 24. Anon., “Record of the Offering Hall to County Magistrate Mr. Ren [‌Huan‌],” 202.



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and implemented them according to priority. At the time, the prefect [‌of the prefecture superior to Shahe County, that is, Magistrate Yao’s superior‌], Mr. Li, was using severity to govern. Every time the various magistrates went to the prefectural seat, they would be disciplined, and they only responded reverently [‌to what Prefect Li said‌]. Yao alone deliberated over advantages and disadvantages [‌of various policies‌] and laid out the commoners’ hardships and toil. At the high end this might mean a speech of several thousand words. Someone warned him. Yao sighed, saying, “If even I do not dare speak, who will dare to speak?”25

Shahe texts deployed state-sanctioned and time-honored expressions of gratitude to good magistrates to bring to the fore the conflicts between county needs and central demands, criticizing some officials by name in the process of lauding others for specific measures fighting unjust taxes.

“For Ten Thousand Years a Pattern for Those Who Hold Command” Serving the people was a core part of the Confucian mission and was also well understood as being in the best long-term interests of the dynasty. As one premortem stele put it, “Acting as the father and mother of the people, as His Honor has done, is truly not turning one’s back on the [‌imperial‌] court above and not turning one’s back on what one has studied below.”26 Yet magistrates often had to choose between carrying out central demands and doing their best for the jurisdiction, and Shahe used premortem steles and shrines to make its interests clear. At a theoretical level, Shahe like other places (as discussed in chapter 1) drew on the classic Record of Rites to justify living enshrinement by focusing on service to the people and ignoring the distinction between life and death. One stele inaccurately quotes the Record of Rites as saying, “If someone has [‌made‌] contributions and [‌shown‌] virtue to

25. 1609+ BZ Shahe xianzhi 5/3 (68). 26. Anon., “Gone Yet Remembered Stele for [‌Shahe‌] County Magistrate Liu [‌Bi‌],” 197.

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the people, then sacrifice to him.”27 And the 1585 record for rebuilding the joint living shrine says: “The [‌Record of‌] Rites stipulates: ‘Those who enact laws/models for the people, worship; those who labor to stabilize the country, worship! Those who are able to prevent great disasters and forestall great calamities for the people, worship!’”28 The revision of what the classic actually says interpolates “for the people” in the last category. At a practical level, Shahe instructed incoming officials very clearly. When Ren Huan departed, Shahe people “set up a stone to constantly praise his contributions and his virtue, here to be for ten thousand years a pattern for those who hold command.”29 The steles preserved in Shahe’s gazetteer make clear that informing future magistrates about the county’s problems and policy preferences was the key motivation behind Shahe’s investment in living shrines and steles. The first surviving stele, for Assistant Magistrate (rank 9a) Li Zirong of the Yuan period, argues that good government takes time; the people are setting up this stone not only to praise what is already past, but also to look forward, hoping for a response from future officials.30 In the words of local metropolitan graduate Hu Sanxing’s stele for the later unified shrine, “Those who, continuing on from today, shepherd this county and ascend this hall, seeing the six gentlemen’s names, will energetically press down their hats and temper and polish [‌their characters‌]” to uphold the gentlemen’s legacy.31 Across the Ming empire, sponsors of shrines and steles meant to press incoming magistrates to live up to the few among their predecessors who had done a good job. Shahe raised this common practice to the level of a concerted strategy. The 27. Zhang Bo, “Stele Record of Rebuilding the Foundry God’s Temple” (ca. 1160). 28. Hu Sanxing, “Record of Repairs to Repairing the Offering Hall to Former Magistrates [‌by Magistrate Jiang Guifang].” 29. Anon., “Record of the Offering Hall to County Magistrate Mr. Ren [‌Huan‌],” 202. 30. Jia Heng, “Gone Yet Remembered Stele for Assistant Magistrate Li Zirong,” 212. The author is identified on p. 76 as a metropolitan degree holder but does not appear in the list of graduates. 31. Hu Sanxing, “Record of Repairs to the Offering Hall to Former Magistrates [‌by Magistrate Jiang Guifang‌].”



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strategy of linking good magistrates to one another to teach their successors appears in both rhetorical and organizational style. Shahe exhibits an intracounty rhetorical tradition of commemorating magistrates. Shahe stele writers were relatively low ranking, even anonymous, and political content outweighed individual style. All of Shahe’s departure steles have consistent titles: “Gone Yet Remembered Stele for County Magistrate Mr. X” (X gong qusi bei). Writers relied on the local model, repeating certain somewhat unusual terms, such as tiancao for the Ming court in Beijing and xiang for the county, and they referred to retaining a magistrate’s boots to remember him.32 Calling magistrates “father-and-mother (parental) officials” was common, but Shahe emphasizes the “mother” side. Three steles liken Magistrates Fang, Ren, and Liu specifically to a “mother.”33 Magistrate Du in Shahe was well known locally: “even wives and girls knew that there was a ‘Mother Du.’”34 The shrine to Former Magistrate Fang was established because, two years after he left, “the whole county missed him like an infant longing for its mother.” Ren Huan dealt with the county’s burdens and took on local strongmen; when he left, the people felt “as if they had lost a mother.” His stele continues: “It is difficult to state in detail all the unlimited kindness a mother carries out, so [‌we‌] build a living shrine to requite the sweet dew [‌of grace‌].”35 In later posts, Ren Huan battled bandits and pirates, sharing the hardships of his troops, winning the loyalty of officers, and emblazoning his name on his torso to dare the enemy to target him. It is not surprising that he was posthumously enshrined along the coast as a hero.36 But Shahe honored him in life as a mother. 32. Two steles mention keeping boots, a known but unusual trope (1609+ BZ Shahe xianzhi, 197, 207). 33. Magistrates were occasionally referred to in Ming as “shepherds” of the people and far more often as “father and mother to the people.” Hu Sanxing conjoins the two terms: in 1583 “Father-and-Mother Jiang as a metropolitan graduate from Shandong came to shepherd Shahe.” “Record of Repairs to the Offering Hall to Former Magistrates [‌by Magistrate Jiang Guifang‌],” 250. 34. 1609+ BZ Shahe xianzhi 5/5 (73). 35. Anon., “Record of the Offering Hall to County Magistrate Mr. Ren [‌Huan‌],” 202. 36. Mingshi 18/205/5418.

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Like a mother, Ren Huan intertwines his own feelings and the specific sufferings of Shahe people in a poem that moves from the roughness of real life to a smooth, peaceful, equitable ideal (all encompassed in the final adjective, ping). In rough and toilsome rushing about I’ve already turned over a year; I’m ashamed to have aided humankind by not one single hair. The western hills’ earth is barren: I grieve when they flee to escape it. The southern fields lie on long roads: they suffer from all the greeting and sending off. Corvée levies come again and again, worsening their plight. Dunning for taxes, I sadly hear the sound of tears and grieving. Who will offer a helping, healing hand to support and uplift these broken, ruined people, creating an equitable order?37

Assigning roles involves envisioning expectations for both self and other. Putting the magistrate in the role of mother enabled the “children” to claim a right to nourishment and even indulgence. Shahe magistrate Shi Yulu’s style of governance, in about 1600, was to promote a broad, embracing harmony such that, even when “bandits were rising in swarms, His Honor could not bear to add any stringency to punishments.”38 Seven decades earlier, in 1529–30, Yao Zhong, the only provincial graduate to be entered into the Shrine to Eminent Officials, had acted similarly: “That year there was hunger. In the western hills, bandits arose. Yao intended to announce that he would comfort them, [‌and, when‌] the circuit [‌officials, superior to the county‌] in fact arrested and exterminated them, he was so grieved and sad that he became sick and died in office. The gentry and commoners competed to buy a coffin for the burial.” Such is a loving mother. The provincial gazetteer, more responsive to the center’s perspective, otherwise copies this biography word for word but omits Yao’s sympathy for the bandits, skipping directly from



37. Ren Huan, “Responsive Feelings in the Shahe Night.” 38. 1609+ BZ Shahe xianzhi 5/4 (72).



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the bravery of his remonstrance with Prefect Li to his death in office.39 Those who were hungry neighbors in Shahe and “children” to the mother-magistrate were nothing but outlaw trash to the national bureaucracy. Shahe countered this callousness with the “merciful mother” trope. In Shahe style, the organization of enshrinement, too, strategically emphasized the connection among the honorees. When Ren Huan was enshrined in 1548, “the commoners built a shrine to sacrifice to him.” This was Shahe’s first premortem shrine.40 The next magistrate won no honors; then Mao Guoxian came in 1550, and, when he was transferred, “the commoners set up a shrine to sacrifice to him,” as they did for Yang Shiqing in about 1566.41 In other words, Mao and Yang were added into Ren’s existing shrine—the two “afterwards in turn entered it.”42 A second shrine, the Western Shrine, was built for Magistrates Wang Jinchao, Xiao Pan, and Han Shi, all of whom served in the 1570s. None has a departure stele recorded in the gazetteer (although other steles praise Xiao Pan’s activities), but for each the list of magistrates reports a standard item in the repertoire of honors: the people responded to and worshiped Wang Jinchao; on the day Xiao Pan left to become a censor, “the people pulled on the shafts [‌of his carriage‌] and blocked the road, and erected a shrine to sacrifice to him”; and, on the day Han Shi left, people accompanied him for some distance, all weeping, and set up a shrine to sacrifice to him. Presumably the shrine was built for Wang, and the other two were added in to economize, on the model of the Ren trio shrine. By 1585 or so, Magistrate Jiang considered the Ren shrine “so rundown that it could not be said to be fit for worship,” so he renovated it and moved in the images from the Western Shrine. The commemorative stele says, “As with the former three gentlemen [‌Ren, Mao, and Yang‌], they [‌Magistrates Xiao, Wang, and Han‌] were different from most people, and they made similar contributions. Why should 39. 1735 BZ Jifu tongzhi 69/28–29. 40. 1609+ BZ Shahe xianzhi 5/4 (69). 41. 1609+ BZ Shahe xianzhi 5/4 (69, 70). 42. Hu Sanxing, “Record of Repairs to the Offering Hall to Former Magistrates [‌by Magistrate Jiang Guifang‌].”

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worship be scattered there and not collected [‌into one hall‌]?”43 This joint shrine was called the “Shrine to Former Magistrates” or, using a term taken from the people’s request to the author in Ren Huan’s original stele, the “Recognizing Virtue Shrine.”44 The main image hall was of three bays (the space formed by two columns), with the six tablets and images arranged in niches in chronological order; behind it was a Cherishing Worthies hall of three bays. Regular ritual offerings in spring and autumn were planned. A large gate to the west held a signboard with the six gentlemen’s names, native place registrations, and ranks. Putting them all together was a very conscious choice. Shahe ­people knew that there were other models. For instance, the gazetteer reports that Hezhou people “responded to [‌Shahe local Zhao Rukun’s‌] grace by setting up wooden tablets at home to sacrifice to him.”45 It was not necessary, even if one wished to make offerings, to have a shrine at all. For a Jin magistrate “people engraved a stone for him, to sacrifice to him” 民為刻石祀之.46 Why was it, then, that Shahe chose to enshrine its favored magistrates first in two shrines, then all together in one place? As for the six gentlemen, they lived at different times, came from different places, and carried out different governance. Today, awesome in caps and robes, they receive offerings together at the head of one hall, together enjoying the sacrificial animals. It is as if each past [‌magistrate‌] in turn is informing the new one about the situation.47

A (tenuous) tradition of good governance is laid out in a dignified, even sacred, public space, each man passing the torch to the next. Future magistrates would be able to visit all the exemplars of Shahe in one 43. Hu Sanxing, “Record of Repairs to the Offering Hall to Former Magistrates [‌by Magistrate Jiang Guifang‌].” 44. 1609+ BZ Shahe xianzhi 4/1 (60). 45. 1609+ BZ Shahe xianzhi, 105. 46. 1609+ BZ Shahe xianzhi, 64. 47. Hu Sanxing, “Record of Repairs to the Offering Hall to Former Magistrates [‌by Magistrate Jiang Guifang‌].”



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place and see what they ought to do. Hu Sanxing quotes the Book of Odes: “They [‌future magistrates‌] are possessed of the ability, / and right it is that their movements should indicate it.”48 The shrine enables Shahe people to teach their magistrates what policies to follow and show them the faces of illustrious predecessors. In fact, Hu Sanxing’s stele immediately deploys this shrine to pressure or encourage the incumbent. Hu rejoices at the sight of the six gentlemen’s images together in chronological order, and so, he writes, do the local gentry and commoners who come to do them reverence or relax in this public space. And what of Magistrate Jiang, who rebuilt the shrine? When, on another day, he [‌too‌] is transferred, on that day the border [‌Shahe‌] people responding will miss him; missing him, they will carve a stele to praise his virtues, like the recent honors and offerings [‌and like‌] the old story of the cherishing of the sweet pear tree. How could he not be enshrined? . . . [‌Yet‌] we will wait to see whether the way later events appear today is the same as the way today appears from observing former events. I am willing to hold the whip to aid His Honor as his charioteer. Therefore I made this record.49

Flattery? Hu certainly makes much of Jiang’s work organizing the rebuilding of the shrine and mentions many other good things he has done. He almost guarantees Jiang a spot in the shrine—but then reserves final judgment. And, in fact, the gazetteer records no worship of Jiang. The decision was not up to high-ranking gentryman Hu Sanxing.50 48. Hu Sanxing, “Record of Repairs to the Offering Hall to Former Magistrates [‌by Magistrate Jiang Guifang‌].” 49. Hu Sanxing, “Record of Repairs to the Offering Hall to Former Magistrates [‌by Magistrate Jiang Guifang‌].” 50. Similarly, the stele for Former Magistrate Fang Hao had lauded incumbent Wang Jun: he “has had care and grace toward us subjects with his virtue”; yet in the end Wang earned neither stele nor shrine. Yang Chuan, “Gone Yet Remembered Stele for Magistrate Mr. Fang [‌Hao‌],” 193.

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A Continuing Connection? The living shrine to former magistrates—what is it? The county people (xiang ren) think of their merit and virtue without forgetting and so make offerings to forever requite them. —Hu Sanxing, “Record of Repairs to the Offering Hall to Former Magistrates [‌by Magistrate Jiang Guifang‌]”

Despite the rhetoric of long remembrance, an official usually had little to do with a former jurisdiction. A notable exception to the rule was provincial graduate Wang Ping, who came to Shahe as magistrate in 1586 and saved tens of thousands of people from a strange miasma in that year and from starvation from drought in the next year. He left office to mourn a parent and then became vice-prefect of Shunde, which oversaw Shahe; his local reputation may have helped place him there. Every time he came to Shahe on business, the local people would gather around him, bowing and saying: “This is our father!” Some pulled at his skirts, weeping.51 His good parenting of the locals paid off for his own son, who earned his metropolitan degree and obtained a good post. The gazetteer comments, “This really is passing on merit to the next generation!” The son of former Shahe magistrate Shi Yulu also earned a degree as recompense for his father’s “hidden merit” (yin de zhi bao).52 Working for Shahe could pay off, and Shahe wanted future magistrates to know that. This kind of ongoing connection is rhetorically emotionalized, in Shahe and elsewhere during the Ming, in ways that bend the functionalist bureaucratic framework of the state. The stele for Ren, for example, says: “When His Honor had not yet arrived, the people waited expectantly for him; when he left, the people thought of him. They looked 51. 1735 BZ Jifu tongzhi 69/29 copies part of this passage, but tones down the emotion by saying “pulled on his cart, weeping,” an extremely common trope of honors. 52. 1609+ BZ Shahe xianzhi 5/5 (71–72). This refers to recompense for secret (and in Ming even well-publicized) good deeds in Buddhist and Daoist frameworks. In this case, however, Magistrate Shi may have had to cover up forgiving bandits.



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forward to him because they looked up to his reputation; they missed him because they treasured his virtue.”53 The stele rhetorically transforms the brutal reality of rapid rotation through office into a nice symmetry of Ren’s passage through Shahe. Ren had been transferred to troublesome Shahe precisely because he had demonstrated ability in Guangping, only forty miles away, and the Shahe people had heard of him because Guangping had felt his influence; then, when he went on his way, he remained in Shahe hearts. Similarly, while the stele for Magistrate Mao focuses on how the people will miss him, it also reports that, before he came, “gentry and commoners eagerly awaited him.”54 When the Shahe Shrine to Former Magistrates was repaired, its first occupant had been dead for twenty-seven years, yet it was still called “a living shrine.” The repairs, by incumbent magistrate Jiang, “above settle the spirits of the six gentlemen and below soothe the common people’s yearning [‌for them‌].” The six former magistrates (some still living), “awesome in caps and robes, receive offerings together at the head of one hall, together enjoying the sacrificial animals.”55 Contrary to the practice Mathias Xia describes (chapter 1), the living and the dead apparently receive the same offerings. And as Hu writes: “Certainly we know that, when the gentry and people each summer and winter walk around making offerings, it will definitely [‌include‌] sacrificing to the six gentlemen. Making offerings to them, the wooden tablet and living image (sheng xiang) [‌of Magistrate Jiang‌] will unite with the six to make seven.”56 Were the former magistrates really there, taking in offerings and overseeing their successors? A Song period stele in the Shahe gazetteer quotes the opening of the familiar passage from the Record of Rites “Those who have made contributions and showed virtue to the people, sacrifice to them” and explains: “This is divinity” or “These are gods”

53. Anon., “Record of the Offering Hall to County Magistrate Mr. Ren [‌Huan‌].” 54. Anon., “Gone Yet Remembered Stele for Magistrate Mr. Mao [‌Guoxian‌],” 204. 55. Hu Sanxing, “Record of Repairs to the Offering Hall to Former Magistrates [‌by Magistrate Jiang Guifang‌],” 252–53. 56. Hu Sanxing, “Record of Repairs to the Offering Hall to Former Magistrates [‌by Magistrate Jiang Guifang‌],” 253. The addition of new statues might reanimate old ones (Marlowe, Shaky Ground, 33).

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(shi shen ye).57 As elsewhere, there are hints that Shahe people thought that even before death magistrates could have special power, whether called ling (the efficacy of spirits) or de (virtue). Shahe used the unusual term li (power) for what Goossaert calls “charisma”: “everyone built the [‌premortem‌] shrine to revere and respectfully serve His Honor’s power.”58 Locals knew that, when Shahe native Zhu Chang, governing another place, successfully prayed for rain to end a years-long drought, “everyone” thought him divine.59 Elsewhere, as we have seen, living images did take in offerings and do miracles in answer to prayers for help. In Shahe we have only hints that that was part of the picture. The former magistrates, one may imagine, not only taught by their presence and example, but actually supervised their successors from life into death. The line between life and death in the Ming political cosmos was as traversable as the line between what we call “politics” and what we call “religion.” Whether because they came in with a sense of mission, for pragmatic reasons, or because the Shahe approach convinced them to serve the people, some Shahe magistrates figured out how to make tax delivery less onerous, lowered or redistributed labor duties, openly discussed with the prefecture the pros and cons of particular approaches from the perspective of taxpayers, and tried to feed hungry local “bandits.” To the extent that such tinkering allowed people to return to their proper livelihoods of production, it may have contributed to the longev­ ity of the Ming, as Nimick has argued. 60 Holding office by delegation from the Son of Heaven, magistrates could justify such semiautonomous actions through the “clause” in the Mandate of Heaven ideology 57. Zhang Bo, “Stele Record of Rebuilding the Foundry God’s Temple.” 58. Anon., “Record of the Offering Hall to County Magistrate Mr. Ren [‌Huan‌],” 201–2. A ditty praising Jining prefect Fang Keqin also uses this term: “What stopped our corvée? It was His Honor’s power (li)” (Schneewind, “Reduce, Re-use, Recycle,” 141). 59. 1609+ BZ Shahe xianzhi, 94. Zhu Chang was a Shahe native serving in Shaanxi. He fed local people but also defeated non-Han rebels by hemming them into a cave until their food ran out. 60. Nimick, Local Administration, 112–19.



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that required the emperor and his state to assure people a secure livelihood. The discourse around gratitude and livelihood also empowered locals. They embedded in shrines and steles explicit promotions of certain local policies opposed to central demands and even condemnations of specific officials. So magistrates knew what Shahe people wanted them to do. Moreover, the premortem genre centered on the gratitude of ordinary people, and in Shahe it was commoners and the very lowest elite men, government students or would-be students, who really sponsored living shrines and steles. Another part of Mandate discourse, the moral transformation a good ruler brought about in his subjects, made it possible to think that commoners could become wise enough to judge the highly educated men ruling them. Shahe honorees did ethically transform people (we are told). Under Rao Bojun, people did not sue one another. Ren Huan shamed those who did not follow ritual into good behavior, stopped irresponsible lawsuits, and judged the crooked and the straight so that everyone responded to his spirit (shen); the way the Shahe people missed him “shows that the Heavenly Principle that resides in people’s hearts cannot easily be destroyed.”61 This claim that people of all walks of life could know and practice what was right had gained additional strength from the teachings of philosopher Wang Yangming about the time Shahe commoners set up the first Ming departure stele, that for Fang Hao. In recording choices of whom to publicly honor, in shrine and stone, from among those set above them and how to do so, local writings made an explicit claim that commoners had the right so to choose. Shahe sponsors and writers operated within county as well as national rhetorical and institutional traditions. An outgoing Shahe magistrate might be fitted into an existing shrine or moved into a joint shrine later, so in effect Shahe institutionalized the office of magistrate as a local, permanent position in the public space of the shrine. In the selection process, policies and actions mattered most. For the most visible purpose of honors was to prod future magistrates into doing their duty: namely, to protect Shahe from central state demands. The Mandate requirement that the ruler attend to the people’s livelihood

61. 1609+ BZ Shahe xianzhi, 68, 198–202.

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legitimated judgment, praise, and criticism of the ruler’s delegates and their policies. Honors and gratitude had a public political component, and shrines and steles were a worthwhile investment. In short, Shahe’s living shrines and steles institutionalized the political speech of local commoners, who used educated men as their ghostwriters.

Chapter Eight

Complications

R

eader, I have not told you the whole truth. I have presented arguments for the public political roles of living shrines. But, like any long-lived and widespread institution, premortem shrines flexibly served a number of purposes. Everything is more complicated than what has been presented in the preceding chapters. For a start, I have distinguished stone inscriptions and shrines. It is true that stone inscriptions laid out explicit messages, whereas shrines created a public and sacred space that drove the message home; it is plausible that gentry had more to do with steles and the illiterate more to do with shrines. But neither dichotomy holds up absolutely. Steles on their tortoises, often topped by dragons, solidly occupied the landscape, beyond textualizing it. A stele’s physical presence, placement, calligraphy, decoration, proximity to other objects, and rituals of unveiling and offering affected how community members interacted with the stele beyond the recording in written words of facts, lies, and wishes.1 Xu Jiusi’s premortem stele included a drawing of a bundle of green vegetables, not explained in the text but meaning­ful to viewers who had seen a similar painting he kept to remind himself 1. Steles were created as “text acts,” for specific occasions and purposes, and their ceremonial placement was as important to their social meaning as their textual content; see Chau, Miraculous Response, 213. For a recent deceptive stele text and the social relations and ritual around its unveiling, see Takacs, “Case of Contagious Legitimacy.” On mnemonic objects, see Mack, Museum of the Mind, 43.

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about frugality.2 Steles were like the wooden spirit tablets (wei) placed on altars; one magistrate had a living shrine and a stone engraved “Tablet of County Magistrate True Father-and-Mother Mr. Chen.”3 Offerings could be made at steles.4 In that way, some steles were much like shrines. Some sources uphold the generalization that gentry create steles and commoners create shrines. One gazetteer says that, when Ji’nan vice-prefect Wang Zhongxian left for a new post, “elders and youngsters (fulao ertong) blocked the road hollering and crying. There were even some who sketched his form and face (tu qi xing mao) to make offerings to, while the county gentry inscribed a stone to record him.”5 But facing pages in the same gazetteer attribute a shrine to “the county people and gentry” (yi ren shi) and a stele to “the people/commoners” (min).6 When Huizhou prefect Sun’s long tenure ended, local gentry and commoners and the garrison commander collected what is described as prose and poetry of the Gantang, legacy of love, gone yet remembered variety, and a She County “righteous man” recorded and printed the complete collection. Later, a commander and some of the writers “cooperated with the masses” (xie zhong) to create a living shrine.7 2. Yao Zhiyin, Yuan Ming shi lei chao 32/13. Another source says the stele also included the three words “Frugality, Diligence, Forbearance,” which he had urged on the jurisdiction. Xu Kairen, Ming ming chen yan xing lu 52/40/21 (46). 3. 1630 SX Guangchang xianzhi, 512. Steles evolved from ritual vessels, which both record and feed the dead person, and some early steles have holes knocked right through the text to hold ropes with offerings of food (Brashier, “Text and Ritual,” 272–74). (Zhou bronze vessels communicated the accomplishments of the living, so the connection with premortem enshrinement is even closer.) Moreover, Brashier notes, “objects associated with one another come to share labels” (272)—like stele and shrine. For a stele with cups for offerings, see Campany, Making Transcendents, 182– 83, 230. 4. 1684 FJ Fujian tongzhi 32/9b. 5. 1692 SD Ji’nan fuzhi 25/51; Jiajing period. Wang became a censor and was later cashiered for corruption. 6. 1692 SD Ji’nan fuzhi 25/44–45. 7. A “righteous man” (yiren) was usually a commoner who had won the honorary title by, for instance, donating grain to the community. The stele says the shrine was built “after another three years,” but it must be another thirteen years. Zhou Hongmo, “Record of the Living Shrine to Former Prefect of Huizhou Mr. Sun [‌Yu‌].” Military

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Commoners worked with text, creating premortem steles and publications as well as shrines.8 Deeper complications appear in this chapter. There are shrines focused on intragentry relations, shrines to teachers, gentry family relations centered on or reflected in living shrines, shrines to benefactors of Buddhist monks, shrines to palace eunuchs and high officials, and steles that invert living shrine rhetoric. Yet in all these cases, the voice of the people is invoked, however hollowly.

A Grand Secretary Most shrines honored prefectural or county officials, but provincial officials did have some responsibilities for livelihood and security, so higher officials could also win honors.9 In early Ming Qinghe County, a new district had been formed of over 700 qing of marshy fields, supposed to be tax exempt. Yet farmers suffered exorbitant tax demands even before the Zhengde emperor unleashed revenue-collecting eunuchs. A royal prince and other rich and powerful people claimed the land, and resident administrators ignored repeated petitions. Finally, in 1513, Censor Qian Rujing took a real look at the documentation, force­ fully pressed the case, and ordered Guangping prefect Hua Jin to investigate, resulting in some improvement in the situation. Petitioned again, the Zhengde emperor deployed three central officials: Revenue Secretary Zhang Xiyin; new jinshi and supervising censor Fan Jizu; and another new jinshi, messenger in the censorate’s Office of Scrutiny for personnel appear alongside “the little people” (xiao min) as the victims of (unnamed) oppressive, greedy, place-seeking officials Zhou has seen elsewhere. Some of Zhou’s bitterness may come from the fact that Sun had been forced out of high office two years earlier (Mingshi 15/177/4713) and from the ongoing Jingxiang rebellion, which revealed deep-seated poverty and disorder in the center of Ming territory, and on which Zhou opined (Mote, “Ch’eng-hua and Hung-chih,” 384–88). 8. Richard Lufrano has found that successful petitions by Ming commoners were sometimes engraved on stones. Lufrano, “Cherishing the People,” 34–35, contra Brook’s view that only the elite could textualize the Ming landscape, in “Communi­ cations and Commerce,” 645–47. 9. See Guy, Qing Governors, 35, 42.

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War Xia Yan. Zhao Tingrui explained in 1545–46, in a shrine record requested by the incoming prefect, that the three had reduced the tax rate and returned the land to smallholders (xiaomin). The stele reported: “For the first time, the mass of commoners knew what it was to have joy in life. The county people, worried that they had nothing with which to plan to reciprocate, therefore led one another in building a shrine, creating images of the officials in order to make offerings to them.”10 The sponsors, Zhao insists, were “lower commoners” (xia min), “the people of the barren soil” (jitu zhi min), and “the masses of commoners” (zheng min) as well as the more general “people of the county” (yi ren). Compared with imperial princes, they were indeed weak, but the group investing in publicizing the settlement with a shrine were wealthy enough to amply recompense those who had helped them. Zhao writes, the group attended to every detail of what a shrine should have (fig. 8.1). The front and back buildings of five bays were each paired with verandas of three bays. A main gate and a median gate had three bays each. In back were enclosed gardens. The front shrine building had five niches for images. The central niche held the image of Xia Yan, with Fan and Zhang attending him (the gazetteer ‌refers to them as “the three lords” [‌gong]), and at the side sat Qian and Hua, less important but active in the first phase of amelioration (“the two lords”). A lofty wall faced with veined stone enclosed the buildings. To feed and clothe a superintendent to guard the complex and manage the rituals, the group created an endowment of 53 mou. Two pavilions for steles were apparently empty.11 But this elaborate complex lacked a commemorative inscription. Built in 1513, it was destroyed in a flood and rebuilt by the magistrate 10. Zhao Tingrui, “Record of the [‌Revering Merit and‌] Admiring Virtue Shrine.” It is also called simply the “Five Lords Shrine” (Wu gong ci) (1735 BZ Jifu tongzhi 50/150). Zhao’s abbreviation of the shrine’s name stressed virtue (de), but the locals cared more about merit, or contributions (gong). Zhao Tingrui had a long and successful career in the sixteenth century and wrote the Shanxi provincial gazetteer. Xia Yan continued to worry about the issue; see a 1522 memorial in Geiss, “Peking,” 195. 11. See 1550 BZ Guangping fuzhi 2/6 and Zhao Tingrui, “Record of the [‌Revering Merit and‌] Admiring Virtue Shrine.”

A 

Plaque on front gate reading “Revering Merit and Admiring Virtue Living Shrine” B  “Righteousness Gate” C  Stele pavilions D  Garden E  Vegetable Garden

1  2  3  4  5 

Hua Jin Zhang Xiyin Xia Yan Fan Jizu Qian Rujing

Fig. 8.1.   The Revering Merit and Admiring Virtue Premortem Shrine. This figure represents the description given in 1551 BZ Qinghe xianzhi.

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and governor in 1530.12 Only in 1545 did Prefect Tang, newly posted to Guangping, ask Zhao Tingrui for an essay. Why then, when most of the men were no longer important? Hua Jin had died in 1519; Fan Jizu had made a decent career protecting the northern border but was retired and probably dead by 1545; Qian Rujing had had a successful career but died in 1541; and Zhang Xiyin joined the protests about the Great Ritual early in the Jiajing reign but made no great impression thereafter.13 So, if Prefect Tang’s decision to commission a stele was informed by national politics, the significant figure would have been Grand Secretary Xia Yan, a powerful figure whose fortunes turned that very year. Depending on which month the stele was set up, Prefect Tang may have been flattering a powerful and longtime leader or expressing support for one on his way down and out.14 In either case, he not only reached back to an episode early in Xia Yan’s career, but also had the writer cloak his flattery in the gratitude of local residents, including very poor commoners. Gratitude or an ongoing reciprocity, along with official sponsorship after 1530, had already kept the shrine going for three decades without a stele. The prefect’s flattery therefore overlaid but did not explain the shrine.

Gentry Connections One oddball living shrine stele celebrates only a gentry connection, yet the author styles himself “Cotton-Clothed Man,” or a commoner. Qin Gao never progressed beyond the status of an unrecognized student (rusheng), but he was quite a well-known poet. A Henan man, Qin writes in his record that he had traveled to Shandong in 1622 on government business (possibly as a corvée worker) at a time when “demon bandits” were pressing southwards. Eight years later, he returned to the area, again finding troublous times filled with violence and rumors. His one moment of peace was due to Liu Rongsi, whom he had known thirty years earlier: not because of Liu’s virtue and reputation, which 12. Zhao Tingrui, “Record of the [‌Revering Merit and‌] Admiring Virtue Shrine.” 13. Mingshi 17/191/5069. 14. See DMB, 529–30.

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Qin pauses to celebrate, but because, while visiting Mr. Huang of Ranzi village (described elsewhere in the gazetteer as the location of a market held twice every ten days), he went to Liu’s living shrine. The shrine had a new building, a grotto and stone steps, and a shady bamboo grove where one could enjoy fragrant tea and a stroll, and where the students of the county went to “repay merit.” Qin goes on to say that, floating about on the sea [‌of life‌], he has seen shrine building and “making an image to invoke” everywhere. He is sick and tired of the noisy life of urban sprawl, crowded with people who all do the same things and praise one another with no real interest. How sensible of Huang to hide himself away in this “one-acre palace” with a famous worthy as his companion, in a purified studio with a lively air (lingqi)! This is a place where one can come to anchor, living as a hermit and chanting poetry.15 Qin says nothing of Liu’s stellar reputation for cost-efficient river management but focuses on his own relations with Liu and Huang and his praise for a poetic venue. The only patrons of the shrine he mentions are students. Still, working in this genre, he stresses his own status as a “commoner.” Many shrines served gentry networking openly. Literary super­ star Wang Shizhen wrote at least a dozen premortem shrine records. In commemorating the rebuilding of a shrine to the still-living former Changxing magistrate Huang Guangsheng, Wang does quote local ­elders on why they still remember Huang after two or three decades, but he mainly applauds local gentryman Xu Zhongxing for proper treatment of Huang: the three-way Huang-Xu-Wang gentry relation

15. Qin Gao, “Stele Record of the Living Shrine to Mr. Liu [Rongsi] of Dongyue Circuit, by Runan Cotton-Clad [‌Man‌] Qin Gao.” Liu (js. 1616) worked first in the Ministry of Revenue, managing the silver treasury. Shandong knew him for his prudent management of river management funds during the Tianqi period. The Yuncheng gazetteer that includes the stele text says he oversaw military affairs in the Dongyan Circuit, which included Yuncheng; the shrine probably dates from that post, making it one to eight years old when Qin visited. In 1633, Liu held posts that put him back in charge of the Yellow River, where he “aroused envy” among some colleagues (1735 BZ Jifu tongzhi 72/59), hardly unusual in the poisonous atmosphere of the times. In 1634, the year the gazetteer that includes Qin Gao’s text was published, Liu was impeached for financial misdoings; the next year Liu was thrown into jail, where he died (1729/1736 SD Shandong tongzhi 27/22).

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lies at the heart of this premortem commemoration.16 Elsewhere, gentryman Wang Shenzhong, after merely identifying shrine sponsors as “elders so-and-so of the prefecture” (jun zhi changlao mou deng), discusses at some length his close friendship with the honoree.17 Acknowledgment, even celebration, of such connections occurs in a number of shrine records with no tone of apology. Questions of propriety did arise when the relations were very unequal, as between education intendants and examination candidates. “Since I am the ‘parent of the people,’ the children of all of the villages of the jurisdiction are my children/disciples (zidi),” wrote Geng Ding­ xiang, by reputation a self-serving hypocrite, in his public announcement of new community schools.18 Yet his living shrine in Nanjing was in a private garden; there offerings were made to his image, and students gathered for study.19 Nominally a teacher, Education Intendant Geng was really a powerful official being flattered by would-be gentry. That was not considered right. Lamenting the impropriety of Nanjing government students enshrining another education intendant, Zhu Guozhen pointed out that living shrines for resident administrators were everywhere, but academies had none and ought not to. Why not? Because teaching depends on strictness (yan), and “it is not desirable to lightly take pleasure in human feelings.”20 Emotion, as we have seen, is at the core of proper premortem shrines. Zhu’s objections did not prevent students from enshrining teachers. A partly extant Ming living shrine in Hainan was built by students to honor their teacher, Wang Honghui, later minister of rites. It had a wooden carved image and a couplet by the prominent scholar-official Jiao Hong.21 Students also established a living shrine to philosopher 16. Wang Shizhen, “Record of the Restoration of the Living Shrine to [‌Former‌] Chang­xing Magistrate Mr. Huang [‌Guangsheng‌].” Huang later successfully impeached Grand Secretary Yan Song. 17. Wang Shenzhong, “Record of the Living Shrine to [‌Former‌] Quzhou Prefect Mr. Li [‌Sui‌] Kezhai,” 24. 18. 1566 NZ Huizhou fuzhi 9/19a. 19. 1593/97 NZ Shangyuan xianzhi 5/9. 20. Zhu Guozhen, Yongzhuang xiaopin 13/10. 21. The back hall still stands. Guangdong Province Ding’an County, Ding’an wenshi, vol. 1.

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Chen Xianzhang.22 But others besides Zhu questioned the propriety of such shrines. When a group of students requested a record for their living shrine to former county school instructor Gong, Fujian gentryman Li Guangjin expressed bafflement and disapproval, as he himself recorded. Shrines to resident administrators whose contributions earn long popular remembrance and semiannual offerings—these are ancient and proper, he says. But this is the first ever shrine to a teacher! Instructor Gong held a “cold” post—one with little status or power— and a rank too low to awe people, writes Li. Gong carried out no such spirit-bright governance as people laud and talk about. Yes, he had made some students happy (some of them quite poor, the text emphasizes), but that has to do only with school regulations and their natural joy in learning. What does it have to do with eternal remembrance? And why on earth do they want to make offerings to his image? He has only gone home to the next county over—does that even count as “departure”?—so if they have questions, it would be easy enough to go ask him. Li initially refused the students’ request that he write the record. But the students (as Li recorded) argued back: “It’s not like that! How could we be away from Teacher for even one day?” He taught them not mere cultural accomplishments, but action, and that mainly as an exemplar: filial, content in poverty, attentive to the sacrifices to Confucius, secretly petitioning for aid to needy students and never accepting thanks, happy when a gift on its way to him was stolen. . . . “How could we be parted from him for even one day? . . . That is why we miss and enshrine him,” the students concluded. Li agreed to write but invented an additional justification. Because the gentry are at the head of the four classes of people and filiality is the wellspring of the hundred actions, Gong’s good influence will percolate throughout the area as long as the students keep up the offerings so that “Teacher still exists and his Way still exists.”23 22. 1673 JX Nan’an fuzhi 6/621; 1732 JX Jiangxi tongzhi 109/47. That shrine, built in Chenghua, was long abandoned by Kangxi times. DMB, 153–56, mentions Chen’s posthumous enshrinement in the Confucian temple in 1584 and his posthumous Zhengde-era shrine in his home village of Bosha but omits this local premortem shrine. 23. Li Guangjin, “Record of the Shrine for Nan’an County Instructor Mr. Gong [‌Biao‌] Jianfeng.”

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Here, borderline gentry openly celebrate a very low-level official: the two students whose names are mentioned barely leave a trace in the historical record, nor does their unranked teacher. Nevertheless, the gentry and ethical focus of the shrine required justification through a trickle-down argument that invoked the people. Special pleading also marks a second stele for this shrine: He Qiaoyuan opens by stating flatly (and incorrectly) that no teacher has ever before been enshrined alive; details Instructor Gong’s extraordinary personal Confucian virtue; claims that it reached from the gentry down to the people; and then cedes the remainder of the stele to a statement by the students themselves that invokes Mencius and Ming Taizu—two figures rare in the premortem genre. The students affirm that Gong would refuse the honor of the shrine but say they absolutely need it to inspire them to together understand and practice his teachings.24 Living shrine propriety could be stretched to include unequal relations purely between gentry and would-be gentry, but it took work.

A Birthday Shrine In 1506, Wang Shu turned ninety. The fifth of his six sons, Chengyin, felt bad because he had just stayed home while his brothers brought in official salaries. So Chengyin built his father a living shrine. It was private; but it was also public. A wall encircled the complex, covering about 5 mou, or roughly two-thirds the size of a football field. It had a front gate, an inner gate, a kiosk, and a hall housing an image of Wang Shu, with side rooms to the east and the west. Behind the hall was an inner chamber, where Chengyin would bring his own sons for feasts to wish their grandfather long life: that made Wang Shu happy. A back gate led into the family’s west garden, part of their residence. Friends were also included: steles on the two sides of the kiosk in the courtyard held a picture and an ode by a scholar likening Wang Shu to the famous old mountain Dizhu and a long-life portrait and record by another scholar-official. A stele in the

24. He Qiaoyuan, “Record of the Shrine to County Instructor Mr. Gong [‌Shibiao‌].”

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kiosk had four faces engraved with four edicts appointing Wang Shu to office. Local students, who had earlier asked Wang Shu for a poem to commemorate the academy built by another of his sons, approached Wang Yunfeng, a fellow official, for a record of the birthday shrine. The shrine record focused on Wang Shu’s career: he had served the ruler in the capital and administered the people outside; he had dealt with chaos caused by bandits and thieves and with hunger brought by flood and drought. In no way could the shrine constitute a measure of Wang’s importance, Wang Yunfeng stressed, nor had he been waiting for it; in fact, to prove that, the eastern side room of the main hall housed a stele engraved with a poem by Wang Shu that expressed his de rigueur attempt to block the building of the shrine as a modest Confucian was required to do. Nor was the importance of Wang’s legacy and shrine limited to the Ming. Yunfeng likened him to many earlier worthies and gentlemen, pointing out that they often had shrines or images in their native places as well as leaving written works. When later generations looked in the histories (perhaps made curious by such a shrine or image), they could see the glory of the worthies’ deeds, and, when they read their works, they could see the orthodoxy of their views, lasting over a hundred generations. Such is the purpose of this shrine and this image: although he paid for the whole thing himself, taking not one penny from the authorities, son Chengyin did not mean the shrine and image to be a private (si) possession of the sons and grandsons of the Wang clan but rather to carry on and transmit Wang’s legacy.25 Did the birthday constitute wish fulfillment for a man who had never won a “real” living shrine? No, for Wang Shu had already been enshrined for his service in Yangzhou.26 Even this shrine by a son was commemorated as broadly public in its intention, and, like family gardens, it may have been open to the public.27

25. Wang Yunfeng, “Record of the Living Shrine to Grand Guardian of the Heir Apparent Minister of Personnel Mr. Wang [‌Shu‌].” 26. DMB, 1417. 27. Clunas, Fruitful Sites, 95.

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Family History Shrines expressing private gratitude could be preserved by the families of sponsors or enshrinees. A commoner whom Hai Rui had rescued from a (wrongful) death sentence built Hai a living shrine in Songjiang, which the builder’s descendants kept up for generations.28 Top jinshi of 1472 and later Nanjing Minister of Rites Wu Kuan was portrayed and enshrined alive by monks grateful that he had paid for some repairs and a stone wall at the Yaofeng Buddhist Temple, where he had studied. When powerful people tried to take over the shrine as private property, largely destroying the shrine in 1626, Wu’s descendant made a fuss, the magistrate reclaimed it, and painter Dong Qichang wrote a commemorative record praising the magistrate as an “upright official” (xun liang).29 Families kept track of shrines. Shrines families remembered facilitated gentry networking. When Lin Zong left his post as instructor in Qizhou, various gentry enshrined him in the Confucian school-temple complex.30 At his death in 1468, Qizhou students mourned at the shrine; but it eventually fell into neglect. In about 1505, Huang Shou repaired it on the orders of Provincial Administration Commissioner Shao Bao, and both men composed stele essays. Why? Zong’s grandson, the prominent official Lin Jun (also enshrined alive), comes in for fulsome praise in Huang’s stele (“All the scholars under Heaven and within the four seas look up to him like Mount Tai or the Big Dipper”), and Jun contributed a prayer text referring to “my grandfather’s living shrine.”31 Perhaps Yang Wei anticipated a similar reception for another grandson of an official enshrined alive when he mentioned that enshrinement in a poem sending off the

28. Zhao Kesheng, “Mingdai shengci,” 128. 29. 1638 NZ Yingtian Yaofeng shanzhi 1/11–12, 5/10–12. Likewise, two early Qing officials were enshrined alive on Putuo island, their shrines tended by monks grateful for their efforts in getting imperial funding for the Guanyin temple. Chun-fang Yu, Kuan-yin, 542 n. 13, citing the 1924 Putuoshan zhi. 30. 1733 HG Huguang tongzhi 25/45, 43/44. 31. Huang Shou, “Record of the Respect the Worthy Shrine [‌to Prefectural School Instructor Lin Zong‌].” I will examine Lin Jun’s enshrinements in future work.

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grandson as assistant instructor to the same county.32 Shrines could become part of a family’s history and thus play into the dynamics of gentry networking, flattery, and patronage. But we cannot assume that all this amounted to no more than flattery of the powerful. Karma spanned generations: just as selfenshriner Zhao Zhonghui of chapter 5 blighted his descendants’ careers, some officials’ sons passed exams because of their fathers’ “­hidden virtue” (yin de), attested in shrines.33 So why should gratitude not span generations? In the Zhengtong era, Prefect Wang Simin memorialized about the suffering that great drought brought Taizhou two years out of three. When the court sent a high official to verify the disaster, Prefect Wang led the elders, crying and pleading, to receive the official, but his boat passed them by without a glance. Wang jumped into the waves, asking to die for the people. His dramatic action awakened the high official to his duty. Wang survived, and, when he retired to tend his aging parents, thousands of Taizhou people, unable to hold back his horse and capture him, established a shrine to make offerings to him. The compiler comments: “Summer and winter incense smoke has not ceased, though a century has passed.”34 When Wang’s grandson, a high official, visited the shrine, Taizhou people of all ages crowded around crying and saying, “We cannot get to see Mr. Wang, but seeing his grandson is like seeing him.” The administrator at the time of the visit fixed up the shrine, and the grandson’s record of the visit was engraved on a stele; it commemorates the dynasty, the writer’s grandfather, the sincere requital of virtue by the local people, and the

32. Yang Wei, “Sending Off Assistant Instructor Dong Maoqing to His Post in Gaoping County Where His Grandfather Was Magistrate and Has a Living Shrine.” 33. Guo Haozheng et al., Mingdai zhuangyuan shiliao, 463–64. 34. Wang Tonggui, Ertan leizeng 4/7. Although Wang Tonggui came from the same county as this vice-prefect, he calls him Gao instead of Wang. The story appears with quite different wording in 1736 NZ Jiangnan tongzhi 115/23, citing the Taizhou gazetteer; and 1733 HG Huguang tongzhi 48/9, citing the previous edition. The 1500 HG Huangzhou fuzhi 5/69 (97) reports Wang Simin’s contributions, including an imme­ diate response to prayer about flooding, but omits his jump and the shrine. The 1633 NZ Taizhou zhi 4/26–27 reports additional virtuous governance but omits the shrine, while including his grandson’s record. Wang Simin also appears in the damaged and partial 1608 HG Huanggang xianzhi.

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incumbent.35 The historian who chooses to reject all such evidence of public emotion must still accept that the rhetoric had meaning: popular approbation over generations was something gentry desired. Although the parental metaphor was just that, a metaphor, people of a locality and their administrators could also forge real family connections. Since family loyalty was a core value, family connections could hardly render honors improper. Provincial graduate He Cen of the Jiajing-era dealt with whatever inconvenienced the people: he saved many people from famine in a drought but also successfully petitioned the prefect to end burdensome tributes of pears and salt; after his transfer to neighboring Xingtai and his retirement, the Guangzong people erected a Legacy of Love Shrine and Stele to him. In fact, it was the support of locals that assured his retirement in good standing; they defended him against the charges of a colleague who blamed him for an accounting deficit.36 The two counties cooperated in petitioning for his designation as an eminent official. Then, thirty years later, his son was inspecting censor in the area. Seeing how poorly things were run, he gave the Guangzong magistrate a record of his father’s policies to print, as a practical guide to water management, tax redistribution, and land registration. The prefect took up the project, locals contributed eulogies, and the documents used in the eminent officials petition were included along with pictures of He and his premortem shrines.37 The core values of filiality and attention to the people’s livelihood could be affirmed together. Han Bangqi happily visited a living shrine that his ninth-generation ancestor Han Wan (b. 1265) had earned in Wenzhou by mitigating disasters. “Not at peace” with his own live enshrinement or perhaps with the institution in general, Wan had turned the shrine into an elementary school, but Bangqi found his

35. Wang Tingzhan, “Record of the Rebuilding of the Shrine to Mr. Wang Simin.” 36. 1598+1663 BZ Guangzong xianzhi, 113, 70. 37. The author was Zhang Yanting 張延庭 and the title is Xing Zong yi’ai lu 邢宗 遺愛錄 (A Record of Affection Left in Xingtai and Guangzong). Thomas Nimick is researching this source for the forthcoming book edited by Pierre-Étienne Will Official Handbooks and Anthologies of Imperial China: A Descriptive and Critical Bibliography (Brill). I have not seen the source.

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image still there and recorded it in his biography of Wan.38 Living shrines were family history for some Ming officials.

Palace Eunuchs Han Bangqi also vocally opposed the tribute-collecting palace eunuchs of the Zhengde period, yet they too, like Han’s ancestor, were enshrined alive. The Dictionary of Ming Biography reports that one of the socalled “eunuch dictators” favored by the Zhengde emperor, Liu Jin, was enshrined alive. Liu Jin broke the law by suborning others to honor him and repaired the damage with special imperial permission—for the emperor was the source of all law.39 But Liu Jin was not the only one. Another palace eunuch, Liu Jing, was enshrined in 1513 at the Responding to Grace Shrine (Ganhui ci) at West Lake. That shrine generated the Cuimei lu, a compilation of illustrations and texts by officials and locals so adulatory as to approach parody, which was perhaps the point (figs. 8.2 and 8.3). When Liu was made grand defender of Guangdong and Guangxi in about 1515, a second shrine meant a second celebratory collection, overflowing with poems and essays by officials, gentry, and local elders describing Liu’s virtue, talent, purity, and contributions to the emperor’s plan to bring distant Liangguang into the sphere of civilization by sending his “inner prime minister.” Liu, in less than a year, the texts say, had tended to defense, promoted schools and transformed the local ethos, tamed powerful families and reduced lawsuits, reformed taxation to save the people’s strength, and so on. Gentry (through their writings) and commoners (through the shrine) claim that they can never forget him.40 In 1518, despite opposition from Minister of Rites Mao Deng, the Zhengde emperor approved a living shrine to another rapacious tribute collector, Grand Defender of Zhejiang Wang Tang.41 As Wang 38. Anon., Nanyang Hanshi zongpu. 39. DMB, 944. Some eunuchs won posthumous shrines for good service, see DMB, 299, 653. 40. Anon., Cuimei lu (ca. 1513); and Anon., Liangguang qusi lu (ca. 1516). 41. Mingshi 17/201/5318, 17/191/5054–55. Mao repeatedly remonstrated with the Zhengde emperor, asking that he return to the palace and his ritual duties.

Fig. 8.2.   The Responding to Grace Shrine at West Lake (Pre­ mortem Shrine of Palace Eunuch Liu Jing). The figure shows the shrine complex and the stele in praise of (living) Palace Eunuch and Grand Defender of Zhejiang Liu Jing. The complex, along the lake, is full of sightseers, including two officials on horses with their ceremonial umbrella carried along behind them, and an old and a young woman with a child or servant on the bridge in the foreground. In addition to the main buildings in the background, the site includes a Tibetan-style stupa. Source: Anon., Cuimei lu, j. 1.

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Fig. 8.3.   Happy commoners at the Premortem Shrine of Palace Eunuch Liu Jing. Happy commoners fish and play in front of the Ganhui Shrine to (living) Palace Eunuch and Grand Defender of Zhejiang Liu Jing at West Lake, while officials and eunuchs, with their attendants, arrive by barge and prepare to enter the main building. Source: Anon., Cuimei lu, j.1.

Shizhen explains, Wang Tang had “inherited [‌Liu‌] Jing’s old tricks.” Having “browbeaten the subjects of Hangzhou into requesting a shrine for him,” he seized a nice wooded patch of land on the side of a mountain, destroyed homes and graves, and built his own shrine.42 The emperor approved all of these shrines to palace eunuchs. Moreover, the text collection for Wang Tang was prefaced by Grand Secretary Fei Hong, who wrote the first record for Jiaxing prefect Yang Jizong’s shrine 42. Ming Wuzong shilu 68/158/3020 for Zhengde 13.1.renyin (Feb. 11, 1518). I believe that the request from Wang Tang came in on this day but that, when the shrine was built and later confiscated, those events were retroactively put into this entry by the Jiajing compilers of the Zhengde records. When the state confiscated the shrines, the people of Hangzhou rejoiced, according to Wang Shizhen, Yanshantang bieji 90/27 and 96/15; see also Yanshantang bie ji 20/21, 24.

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the next year. Wang Tang’s collection was postfaced by Shao Bao, a Neo-Confucian teacher, vice education intendant, and great enemy of improper worship.43 Regardless of which superiors were playing what political games, local elders’ and other commoners’ gratitude for paternalist service to the people had to be invoked, even if they were transparent lies. Although Liu Jing and Wang Tang abused the power the emperor handed them, Shih-shan Henry Tsai has demonstrated that many eunuchs worked hard for the state for little thanks.44 Even in the sources penned by Confucian officials, their righteousness sometimes peeps through. Scholar-official Lou Xing was the son of Lou Liang, a favorite disciple of philosopher Wu Yubi and a teacher of Wang Yangming.45 As a director in the Nanjing Ministry of War, Lou Xing abused his power so outrageously that he was eventually degraded to the rank of commoner. Among his presumptions, he built a shrine centered on his own clay image. The accuser who successfully impeached him in 1494 was none other than a palace eunuch, Jiang Cong, who had long headed the eunuch triumvirate running Nanjing but who fell himself, the same year, on charges that Chaoying Fang calls “ridiculous.”46 In the normal course of governing, court eunuchs and officials had to work together; even Wei Zhongxian worked with some civil officials, while Donglin men cooperated with some palace eunuchs. Civil official Shao Bao, himself enshrined in a Confucian academy, possibly while still alive, contributed to the commemoration of palace eunuch Wang Tang. Premortem shrines cannot be understood en masse, nor should their enshrinees be judged in black and white. Many players desired shrines because they could send powerful political messages that drew on authority from outside the court.

43. DMB, 619. According to Xia, “Shengci gushi,” 71, Shao Bao himself won a living shrine in Xuzhou, but I have not yet found it. 44. Tsai, Eunuchs in the Ming Dynasty. 45. DMB, 989. 46. Ming Xiaozong shilu 54/88/1626–28, for Hongzhi 7.5.wuxu (June 13, 1494); DMB, 377.

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Commoners in a Posthumous Shrine Another complication is that this book focuses on premortem shrines. Yet one could argue that the key distinction lay not so much between pre- and postmortem shrines as between “official” shrines like the Shrines to Eminent Officials and shrines based in popular opinion, regardless of whether the enshrinee was alive or dead. Commoners could act or be invoked in politically pointed postmortem enshrinements as well. In 1491, metropolitan graduate Zheng Ji commemorated the gradual development of a posthumous cult. Zheng opened by delineating four categories of resident administrator: those who are “thought of” (si) while in office, like Di Renjie; those who are thought of after they leave office; those who are thought of after they die, like Yang Cheng; and those who are thought of long after death. Never had he heard of the last kind, Zheng writes, until Magistrate Wang Yi, posted to Xianyou in 1433. Zheng, a Xianyou man and Ministry of Revenue official, details how Wang dealt firmly and competently with the inequities of the tax and corvée duties of the hilly county and otherwise staved off demands made by the central state and yamen clerks. Zheng recounts the wide public grief when Wang died in 1436. On the day he died, the clerks wept in the court, farmers wept in the fields, travelers wept on the paths. No one sang at his work, women did not adorn themselves, the markets were closed for several days. As the coffin traveled through the country, Elderly Commoner Mr. Zhang Deyuan took a small image of him [‌i.e., made a death mask‌] to lodge his reverent thoughts. All of the county, old and young, accompanied [‌t he coffin‌] to Xixu, their wails and tears exceeding those of their first mourning. So they arranged to set up a stone along the highway, inscribed “Xianyou Magistrate Mr. Wang Loved the People like a Parent.”

This commemoration was only the first step. Forty years later, in 1475, National University students, whose low status made the job of county magistrate even more difficult than it was for metropolitan or even provincial graduates, had been administering

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Xianyou for a decade. Zheng Ji criticizes the two men and perhaps their successor, a provincial graduate (juren), explicitly: Wang’s successors, he writes, emerged from the state schools, so they should have been better than Wang, who came from the “miscellaneous stream”; and they had long terms in which to accomplish something, yet “the people only feared that they would not leave office soon enough.” Their poor governance made the exemplary Wang Yi look even better, and two named commoners, feeling that “carving a stone was insufficient to requite the virtue of His Honor, arranged to lead the people of the county (yi min) to make offerings to him.” They requested leadership from a local gentryman, Chen Qian, who was serving as Jiangxi assistant administration commissioner and had formerly been a director in the Revenue Ministry. Gentryman Chen Qian planned the project with Zhang Hui, the grandson of the man who had taken the death mask, a commoner educated or rich enough to have followed gentry custom by choosing a style name to use instead of his given name, Shuhua. Chen and Zhang Shuhua together led the work for thirteen months, completing the shrine in the winter of 1476–77. They divined a place just east of the city that measured more than 10 by 10 zhang (that is, about 30 yards on each side), with water in a good position for its fengshui; built an offering hall with a gate, two side porches, and two rooms to house the custodian; and had an image of Mr. Wang made based on the original one. Zheng comments: “Although the shrine was completed by the joint will of everyone, Shuhua’s labors were the greatest.” Zhang Shuhua had help in transporting lumber and overseeing the construction work from two other commoners (named). In this case, named men explicitly called commoners, dissatisfied with only a simple stele, initiated the post­ humous shrine and built it with some gentry cooperation. They did so precisely when the central government had been slighting them by sending them low-status, incompetent officials for ten years. Still, at this point, there was no longer a stele for the shrine. The next step involved a family visit, Zheng continues: The shrine had been finished for twelve years [‌in ca. 1489‌] when I, while inspecting schools in Zhejiang, went to Siming County [‌Wang Yi’s native

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place‌], visited His Honor’s son, and explained to him the intention behind the establishment of the shrine. His grandson, Zhen, did not consider a thousand li too far but came to bow (bai) at the shrine, and the county people who encountered him had not declined [‌in their feelings‌] but extended their love for His Honor to his descendant.47

The final step came in 1491. Chen Qian was compiling a Xianyou County gazetteer and asked Zheng Ji to write a commemorative record for the shrine whose construction Chen had cosponsored fifteen years earlier. In 1491, another new magistrate with a provincial degree was just arriving. The stele, and perhaps the whole gazetteer project, could urge the newcomer to imitate Wang, a magistrate who had died in office fifty-five years earlier. Zheng concludes pointedly: “Because I am writing the stele record for His Honor [‌Wang‌], I ought also to inquire into the later men who have acted as ‘father-and-mother to the people.’”48 He found them wanting and said so. The shrine was overtly political, and its validity centered on the trope of commoners’ gratitude, mourning, and reciprocation. Commoners had mourned Wang’s passing and put up a simple stele honoring him; a commoner made a mask as the cortege passed and preserved it for four decades; commoners decided that he deserved offerings as well as words and approached Chen for assistance; commoners oversaw and carried out the work of building the shrine. Apart from the schoolteacher Zhang Tong, the five sponsors named in the record left no trace in the 1538 county gazetteer.49 Both the later stele and the earlier timing of the shrine criticized some officials and presented Wang and his policies as a model for incoming officials. Political activity by local commoners centered on this posthumous shrine was valued and recorded by a gentryman in 1492, although no law or custom required gentry oversight. 47. Zheng Ji, “Record of the Shrine in Commemoration of the Virtuous Governing of Magistrate Wang [‌Yi‌] of Xianyou City.” 48. Zheng Ji, “Record of the Shrine in Commemoration of the Virtuous Governing of Magistrate Wang [‌Yi‌] of Xianyou City.” 49. Given the rich on-the-ground documentary record in Fujian, some information could surely be tracked down. Chen Qian’s gazetteer, which I have not seen, probably has more details.

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A Donglin Posthumous Shrine Commoners’ approval legitimated claims to authority. This was so even when gentry concerns were foremost, as was perfectly legitimate, in a posthumous shrine. Written for a shrine to minister of punishments and former Yuanshi magistrate Wang Jianzhi set up in Yuanshi in 1528, almost a decade after his death, Gu Dingchen’s stele commends Wang especially for nourishing talent so that a phalanx of wise scholars emerged, mentioning several who had become officials. He gives the names, titles, and native places of the present magistrate and prefect—it was they, not locals or commoners, who requested that Gu write an essay lest, with no stele, the shrine gradually fall into neglect. Even so, Gu mentions the commoners’ yearning for Wang, and, when he predicts the later enshrinement of the two incumbents, he says it will come through their having awakened that same kind of popular yearning. The shrine sent a political message: Gu himself notes that he wrote with future officials in mind.50 Locals later petitioned to add former magistrate Hou Tang (who had left in 1490), and another addition made it the Shrine to Three Gentlemen (San gong ci).51 A second stele for the Shrine to Three Gentlemen shows how the Donglin faction adopted and developed the shrine-centered trope of popular opinion. As magistrate of Yuanshi, Su Ji’ou renovated this posthumous shrine and wrote a record that makes the distinction between shrines initiated by subjects and by officials. Su describes a handsome building of five columns, its modeled images strong and stern, in which the three former magistrates received offerings semiannually. As the years lengthened, the shrine began to fall into disrepair 50. Gu Dingchen, “Stele for the Legacy of Love Shrine to County Magistrate Mr. Wang [‌Jianzhi‌].” Wang’s biography in the same gazetteer, 1642 BZ Yuanshi xianzhi 3/335, obviously excerpts Wang’s accomplishments from Gu’s stele. 51. Gu Dingchen, “Stele for the Legacy of Love Shrine to County Magistrate Mr. Wang [‌Jianzhi‌]”; Su Ji’ou, “Record of Rebuilding the Shrine to Requite Virtue” (ca. 1615). The “Three Gentlemen” are also listed in Zhao Minshuo, “Stele Record of the Virtuous Governance of Yuanshi County Magistrate Mr. Zhang [‌Dujing‌]” (ca. 1598). Hou Tang left Yuanshi in about 1490. The narrative is confused; Zhao’s stele claims that Zhang Dujing joined this shrine, making it “Four Gentlemen,” yet Su says it was on his watch, some fifteen years later, that Zhang was finally added in. The capsule biographies of Wang and Hou are in 1642 BZ Yuanshi xianzhi 3/337–38.

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even though the magistrates’ virtue still permeated the people. An (unnamed) predecessor of Su had requested to repair it, but the relevant authorities (not specified) preferred instead to transfer worship to the Shrine for Eminent Officials—this probably refers to Magistrate Liu Congren’s late establishment of that standard shrine, in 1579. Such a move would have put worship firmly into state hands, but it apparently did not happen. When the gazetteer was compiled, the Shrine for Eminent Officials held thirteen pre-Ming officials and nineteen Ming magistrates, vice-magistrates, and county school instructors, but it held not one of the “Three Gentlemen,” nor any of the others honored in the shrine Su is commemorating here. The gazetteer does credit some of the eminent officials with popular honors (“the commoners [‌baixing ‌] rested content in their occupations and sang songs about him”).52 Yet the two shrines are completely distinct—one official, one popular. The increasing dilapidation of the Three Gentlemen’s Shrine dismayed elders passing by. In the midwinter of 1614, when Su arrived as magistrate, “the elders and various students” (fulao zhusheng) told him about the earlier request for repairs. He sympathetically divined a good start date, gathered the materials and workers necessary (the common people putatively coming “like children” to help out), replaced the fallen, broken statues with what he called “ritually proper” wooden tablets, and in two months had made the shrine more beautiful than ever. 53 The elders and students approached him again, invoking a phrase from the Odes to express their good luck in those who came to “shepherd” them. They told Su: “When they were here, they were thought virtuous; having departed they are missed. We commoners (xia min) do not dare to forget but are requesting permission to revere them side by side, making offerings in the shrine, to serve as the root stock for eminent officials”54—that is, the real eminent officials, not those in the official shrine but those popularly selected. The distinction becomes even clearer as Magistrate Su’s stele continues.

52. 1642 BZ Yuanshi xianzhi 2/252, 3/335. There are also magistrates good enough to earn capsule biographies who appear in neither shrine. 53. Su Ji’ou, “Record of Rebuilding the Shrine to Requite Virtue” 6/642. 54. Su Ji’ou, “Record of Rebuilding the Shrine to Requite Virtue” 6/642.

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When the elders and students requested to enshrine more former magistrates, Su agreed and then ordered the instructor and the students (zhusheng) to discuss which long-dead officials to add. He explicitly excluded current office holders (jin shen) from the discussions. This “public discussion” (yu lun) turned up seven candidates, alike in exercising virtue on the people. They worship them (shi er zhu zhi, she er ji zhi)—who can say it is not so? So, I divined a day and set up tablets adding them to the shrine and then changed the name to “Requiting Virtue.” I did not dare to leave anyone out, nor did I dare to put in any extras, but in everything I followed the recommendations of the elders and students, as evidence of the peoples’ minds, and that was it.55

Magistrate Su relies entirely on the judgment of local elders and students, who select seven men Magistrate Liu had passed over as eminent officials. Su states plainly that, in judging which magistrates deserve remembrance and should serve as exemplars for their successors, what counts is the opinion of a middling group of locals—elders and students, explicitly not office holders or upper gentry—as they express the minds of commoners. The reward for those who are to come will not be praise at the center or the approval of the Son of Heaven, but placement in a humble shrine of five bays. Further, Su states that this is the proper principle for action in general. This passage requires careful attention. Alas! [‌A1.‌] If [‌on the one hand‌] one uses [‌the method of‌] the magistrate zheng-ing the people, the people will heed the magistrate. [‌B1.‌] If [‌on the other hand‌] one uses [‌the method of‌] the people zheng-ing the magistrate, he will heed them. [‌A2.‌] [‌Things done on the basis of‌] obeying (ting) the magistrate, how could they last? [‌B2.‌] But [‌things done on the basis of‌] obeying the people will pass away only with Heaven and Earth.56

55. Su Ji’ou, “Record of Rebuilding the Shrine to Requite Virtue” 6/643–44. 56. Su Ji’ou, “Record of Rebuilding the Shrine to Requite Virtue” 6/644.

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以令徴民， 民聼於令。以民徴令，令聼於民。民聼於令者，何常？而聼 於民者，與天壤俱敝也。

The latter part of this passage is clear, allowing for shades of meaning of ting from merely “listen to” to “obey.” Actions that obey only the state delegate in the county will be temporary, and those that obey the people will last. Such a statement is already quite a challenge to the delegates of the Son of Heaven. But how are we to read zheng? As a transitive verb, it has a variety of meanings, including things like “to prove, verify, demonstrate, or express,” but those cannot take humans as their grammatical object. Zheng can mean things like “to inquire about or among,” but the magistrate has just been inquiring among the people, and he sets up option A as not lasting, so that meaning does not make sense. Zheng as a transitive verb taking humans as the grammatical object can mean things in the family of “recruiting to a position, scouting for talent, appointing to an official position,” and even “being in charge of.” So Magistrate Su is saying (in paraphrase) that A. When magistrates take charge of subjects, the subjects will obey him—but matters run this way will fall apart. B. When subjects take charge of magistrates, magistrates will obey them—and matters run this way will last forever.

Although the temporal power granted the magistrate may induce temporary compliance, the people’s decisions are the root of legitimate, effective, long-lasting decisions on governance. Are we justified in reading this as a general principle? Perhaps Su means only decisions about which former officials should be enshrined. But then sentence A1 makes no sense. The sentence that follows the above passage also suggests that Su is proposing a general guideline for governance rather than merely explaining how to select enshrinees. He says: “If one respects the law and follows Principle, one can, using them, carry out governance.” Principle (li) may be meant generically—ethical norms—or it may reinforce the guideline Su has just stated (B): to build lasting order, the magistrate should follow the views of the people.

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Moreover, Su argues for working with the people instead of threatening and making demands of them: “What need is there to be threatening and stern?” Finally, he suggests that, to follow principle in governing, one should be a bit like the people. He himself was “completely ordinary, nothing special.” This statement, in context, transforms conventional humility into a plank in Su’s argument that there should be no great gap between resident administrator and subjects. Like himself, he writes, later administrators need not be superstars; if they simply follow in the footsteps of these enshrined figures, they will be lauded for comforting the subjects of the entire county, and the elders and students will also make a place for them in the “Requiting Virtue Shrine.”57 This Donglin partisan, while acting for the central state, has taken the populist tropes of the repertoire of honors to a new height. The people’s decisions must underlie legitimate, effective, long-lasting policies, and magistrates should work with the people and do what they want. Magistrate Su, among other contributions, led the gentry on foot to pray for rain in a drought, to good effect. When he left office in 1616, the county people (min) built him a Legacy of Love Shrine outside the south gate of the city, with a main building of three bays, two wings of three bays, a celebratory arch, and a “Virtuous Governance Stele Building.”58 The stele was composed by local gentryman Zhi Ting, who later supported Wei Zhongxian and built a Wei shrine.59 About a decade after Su’s departure, Wei Zhongxian hounded Su out of office and into suicide. After the death of the Tianqi emperor, Wei’s patron, led to Wei’s own suicide, and, after Su was politically rehabilitated, county gentry and commoners petitioned to add Su into the Requiting Virtue Shrine he had rebuilt.60 Both Donglin partisans and Wei Zhongxian’s faction believed that shrines offered legitimacy to those running the government, by evincing popular approbation. 57. Su Ji’ou, “Record of Rebuilding the Shrine to Requite Virtue.” 58. 1642 BZ Yuanshi xianzhi 3/348–49; 2/253–54. 59. Mingshi 21/245/6351–53, 26/306/7868; 1642 BZ Yuanshi xianzhi 2/251–52, 2/253– 54, 3/349. Su was enshrined again there posthumously. The shrine to Su was still extant in 1642. 60. 1642 BZ Yuanshi xianzhi 2/51, 3/348; Mingshi 21/245/6351–53.

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The populist rhetoric described above allowed commoners to participate in politics even beyond the premortem genre. The Requiting Virtue Shrine was the outcome of posthumous enshrinement choices that clearly rejected the decisions of the state about who was really an eminent official in Yuanshi. To record a process that allowed com­ moners to participate in incorporating, influencing, criticizing, and instructing resident administrators—and, as we saw in chapter 5, reflecting on national-level policy and practice—was significant even if it was, in historian Charles O. Hucker’s word, “theoretical.”61 Su Ji’ou’s account shows him excluding high-ranking gentry while commoners made the decisions. But suppose they did not. Suppose it was all an elaborate fiction. Then, rather than recording a onetime process, Su is explicating a political theory that grants commoners the legiti­mate right to pass judgment on officials and to guide governance more generally.

An Improper Living Shrine Early Qing political theorist and historian Huang Zongxi included in a compilation of Ming writings both Zhang Juzheng’s letter deploring living shrines as expressions of local self-interest (discussed in chap­ ter 4) and an essay describing another case of living shrine destruction. When Huang was a teenager, in 1626, Wei Zhongxian had Huang’s ­father thrown into the Decree Prison, where Wei’s minions were torturing Donglin men for revenge and to dun their families. Huang Zongxi personally collected money from friends and moneylenders to pay his father’s fines, trying to save him from further beatings, right up until the very night Huang senior was murdered on Wei’s orders.62 In December 1627, when the tables had turned, Huang Zongxi personally stabbed the Decree Prison director with an awl during an interrogation.63 Huang’s experience may explain why he included a strange essay charging that a specific living shrine, in its posthumous phase, warranted removal. 61. Hucker, “Governmental Organization,” 64. 62. Dardess, Blood and History, 122. 63. Dardess, Blood and History, 157.

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The essay was written by Luo Yuchen, who had ruined his own career in the Jiajing period by “stubbornly hating the wicked”: having impeached a prominent statesman, he was stripped of his post and his jinshi rank in about 1536 and died at home the next year at the age of thirty-five.64 The enshrinee, Qian Pu, had died twenty or twenty-five years before Luo’s birth. A prominent official, Qian Pu had led a mission to Vietnam in 1462 and had been imprisoned in 1464 for working with a palace eunuch to win a post in the Grand Secretariat.65 Luo Yuchen begins his essay objecting to Qian’s premortem shrine with a pro forma apology that he, junior and inferior to Qian, “has not been able to conceal His Honor’s shortcomings and furthermore [‌is‌] persuading the authorities to remove his shrine and destroy his statue.” But he quickly asserts that, in fact, the exposure to the public of Qian’s wickedness shows Luo’s own loyalty and righteousness, just as when Zhu Xi advocated the removal of a shrine to the despised Song official Qin Gui. Citing the usual passage of the Record of Rites on enshrining heroes, he comments: This is the system of the former kings and the way to bind and display the people’s longing thoughts. So there has never been anyone who has no merit and yet the people yearn for him; [‌nor has there been anyone whom‌] the people do not yearn for yet enshrine. So, in the past, enshrinement was decided on by the people. In the present, enshrinement is determined by officials! In the past, the people were frank. Now, the people are sycophantic. His Honor has one of the “Five Bad Characteristics” [‌listed by Confucius in Xunzi 28/2‌]. Hence, when we come to the enshrinement of His Honor, was it decided on by officials? Or was it decided on by people? If it was people, were they flattering [‌h im‌]? Which is it? 66

Luo is raising the question of how a shrine to a bad official could possibly have been built. Shrines are supposed to be created by the people, 64. Jiao Hong, Guochao xianzheng lu 26/110; Mingshi 18/207/5474–75. 65. DMB, 499. 66. Luo Yuchen, “Document Charging That the Living Shrine to Mr. Qian Wen­ tong [Pu] Should be Removed.”

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so perhaps now, when officials create them, a bad one can slip in. Or perhaps it is that the people did create the shrine, but nowadays even they cheat. Which was it? In order to ascertain that, Luo recounts Qian Pu’s career, encompassing flattery of eunuch dictator Wang Zhen; flattery of the crown prince chosen by the Jingtai emperor to replace the son of his brother, the captive Zhengtong emperor; reliance on an imperial favorite to escape punishment when the Zhengtong emperor reclaimed his throne; further friendships with palace eunuchs; patronage through a position as examiner; and other such machinations at court. Luo includes a song deriding Qian sung in the capital and concludes, “This is the grand outline of his official service.” Finally, Qian was sent down from court to be magistrate of Shunde. Luo Yuchen continues: When I was young, one could still hear the elders (fulao) talking about His Honor’s [‌Qian’s‌] governing traces [‌of three decades before‌]. They all said, “His Honor was an official close to the [‌late‌] emperor, so the various authorities all treated him with extra politeness. At that time, the people’s habits were still honest and kind, and legal disputes were simple and rare. For this reason [‌t hat is, because things were basically good to begin with, not because he himself did anything‌], His Honor became known for official administration. His Honor therefore got in good with provincial governor Han Yong. Han recommended him to the emperor for promotion. His Honor also relied on forging relationships with powerful local men (xiang hao). He told the powerful locals to drum up and fan [‌popular enthusiasm‌] below and soon gained a good reputation. The ode about [‌Qian’s bringing‌] rain and grain, and the ballad about a tiger crossing the river [‌to leave the county‌] both stem from the various powerful locals contributing to flattering His Honor. Both of these [‌honors‌] exist because powerful village men wanted to flatter him. On the day his living shrine was completed in this county, the fields set aside to pay for the sacrifices were all taken from the private resources of his family.” This, then, is the grand outline of his governing affairs.

In what reads as a bitter parody of the premortem genre, Luo claims that as a youngster he had heard the truth about Qian: his good governance

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came from inaction, his honors were contrived with powerful locals, and he endowed his own living shrine. Luo goes on to record the rest of Qian’s scurrilous career in cooperation with eunuchs, including harming his native place, and he charges that Qian’s scholarship “had no point”: his letters from Vietnam discuss only precedence in seating at banquets. Confucius would have considered Qian only a vulgar place-seeker, yet his former court service won support from other such mean people. Fortunately, the clear knowledge of the elders has limited the damage, even though the shrine still stands: But our county’s public opinion still had the elders. So, although he served as ambassador, above, he was not able to spread his wickedness in the imperial court; and, below, he was not able to steal a good reputation in the county. Is this not a blessing for the country and a benefit for our county’s scholars and officials?67

Luo had posed two questions. (1) Was this improper shrine sponsored by the people or by officials? Answer: Neither, really—it was the enshrinee himself, with the help of corrupt officials and locals. And (2) Were “the people” flatterers? Answer: The enshrinee himself was quin­ tessentially a flatterer, the local bullies were flatterers, but the real ­people—the elders—saw the truth, remembered it, and transmitted it. The shrine to Qian Pu was a forgery: fake honors manufactured by an official with the collusion of the powerful. It is possible that every one of the steles I have studied is a passel of lies put together by a corrupt, illegal official-gentry-local coalition. But, even if that is true, the determination to claim for oneself a positive judgment by the people is the reverse side of a fundamental ideological claim that “the people” will know the truth and stick to it. We know about the discourse of “stupid” commoners who can be misled by rebel bandits or false gods. But we must now recognize another strain of Ming discourse: that the people were the ultimate judges of good and bad in government, 67. Luo Yuchen, “Document Charging That the Living Shrine to Mr. Qian Wentong [Pu] Should Be Removed.”

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with the right to express their views in long-lived institutions and public texts etched in stone.

Shrines to Local Gentrymen Most premortem shrines honored resident administrators in their (former) jurisdictions, justifying Zhao Kesheng’s decision to translate the term shengci into English as “shrines to living officials.” Back home, while arches, banners, pavilions, and steles might celebrate their accomplishments, most men (and all Ming women) who were entered into shrines had died first. Qiao Keda won premortem shrines in a succession of counties and prefectures, while his charity at home “truly sufficed for him to be honored with an arch in his own time and offered sacrifices in later generations.”68 But local gentry had acted like paternalistic officials since Southern Song, even countering central demands, and Neo-Confucians had built a set of local institutions around the idea that a gentleman out of office should do “something like governing.”69 Although the Ming Code might seem to permit only officials to be enshrined alive, Ming people openly celebrated local parentalism in shrines. Three examples from Fujian illustrate this point. Former chief minister of the Court of the Imperial Stud Wang Renchong won a living shrine at home in Jinjiang for dealing with inconvenience and corruption caused by tax payment. Several elders, visiting He Qiao­yuan at home to request a commemorative essay, spoke in detail (for more than half of the record) about the difficulties coastal folk of the thirteenth district had faced in delivering grain to a distant granary on a tight schedule manipulated by yamen staff, until Wang Renchong, upon retiring home after a long career, took up the matter with the magistrate. Grateful and doubly impressed by Wang’s refusing a cash “birth­day present,” the group decided to requite his virtue with a premortem shrine. They 68. 1630+ SX Weizhou zhi, 442. 69. Hymes and Schirokauer, Ordering the World, 26. A local gentryman’s letter, included in his published wenji, asked officials to just forget about local tax arrears (Hymes, Statesmen and Gentlemen, 124–25). Qing native-place associations in Beijing legitimately channeled local requests for relief: Belsky, Localities, 214.

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had a twofold purpose in requesting a text from He: to let their descendants for generations know that it was Mr. Wang who had dissolved the onerous requirement and so that if later “slippery” government office personnel plotted to reverse the ruling, they could point to the shrine—with its very explicit stele.70 He Qiaoyuan wrote a bit about Wang’s career, but, to underline that Wang was not abusing his status or pressuring local officials as, for instance, we have seen the Jiaxing gentry doing, he stressed that in retirement Wang spoke of the teachings of the sages and worthies rather than bragging about his life as an official. The trouble Wang took to help the elders illustrated how he had worked his whole life.71 He Qiaoyuan saw nothing to hide, and the elders much to celebrate, in Wang’s using his high standing to local benefit. Shrines in the native place could be challenged using the public/ private dichotomy. A second late Ming stele for a living shrine to a Fujian gentryman who had aided his home town points out that this is the first such shrine in Hui’an and contrasts it with the shrines the honoree had earned in four jurisdictions: “The home town enshrining His Honor is the hometown people’s thinking him virtuous—it is private (si).”72 Scholars have emphasized that si is often a term of 70. Recording regulations and settlements is a common function of stone inscriptions. 71. He Qiaoyuan, “Record of the Shrine to Wang [‌Renchong‌] Yuxi.” A record by He for a shrine to Donglin supporter Ding Qijun in Ding’s native place illustrates the point I made in chapter 6 about how much commoners talk in premortem steles. Ding talks a little (20 characters), reporting three fiscal burdens on Dehua County to unidentified state personnel, who only say “yes” three times. Farmers standing in their doorways explain in 85 characters why they wish to enshrine Ding; county gentry explain in 115 characters. Speaking together, the farmers and the gentrymen plan a visit to He in 20 characters. He challenges them in short bursts totaling 28 characters to come up with precedents, and their answers occupy 187 characters. He concludes the essay with 91 characters about Ding, noting his many shrines elsewhere. Local beneficiaries of Ding’s interventions hold the authority in the decision to build a shrine, and commoners talk almost as much as gentry. He Qiaoyuan, “Stele for the Premortem Shrine to Mr. Ding [‌Qijun‌].” 72. Kang Shijin, “Record of the Shrine to [‌Hui’an Local Gentryman‌] Mr. Liu [Hui] Wanghai,” 740–41. Because this inscription was collected from the stone, all the donors’ names are listed; future research could reconstruct the social network involved.

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disapproval, indicating corrupt and selfish interests opposed to the commonweal. But there is nothing shameful about this “private” shrine—it simply represents a legitimate sphere of action similar to work done in office.73 In yet another case, elders (representing the broader public) and the local enshrinee’s clan cooperated in making the shrine.74 Wakeman suggests that Gu Yanwu’s proposal for bureaucratic feudalism located common ground between gong and si.75 But the premortem genre had already harmonized them rhetorically, as the third case of enshrining a local gentryman shows. Local gentryman Nian Can (a Nanjing investigating censor) memorialized the Zhengde emperor about the burden of salt taxes in his small home community and won a quota reduction. Two records for his premortem Encouraging Loyalty Shrine prominently feature the (unnamed) Son of Heaven. This unusual feature supports C. K. Yang’s point, mentioned in chapter 4, that shrines could enhance loyalty to the dynasty, but may have been meant to take the edge off the loss of revenue. The emperor appears as the recipient of Nian Can’s memorials seeking relief, and the record by local jinshi Gu Po further explains that salt collection is a national system; correcting the inequity harming the Xunwei people spreads blessings to the whole empire and dynasty-nation (tianxia guojia).76 73. See Wakeman, “Boundaries of the Public Sphere,” 168, for si, gong, and guan (official) as nested rather than opposed domains of action. 74. “Fengquan ci ji,” in 1835 GD Nanhai xianzhi, jinshi lüe/12 (accessed through Zhongguo lidai shikeliao huibian). 75. See Wakeman, “Boundaries of the Public Sphere,” 173. 76. Gu Po, “Record of the Encouraging Loyalty Shrine.” Circuit and regional inspectors approved the outcome of local competition over the location of Nian Can’s shrine without objecting to the shrine as illegal or improper. The competition suggests that the shrine may have been efficacious. It began as just a stele placed in a pavilion between the homes of the Nian clan and their graves. But commoners of other surnames wanted to make sacrifices to him semiannually, so they converted a chapel on a bridge into a living shrine, winning the prefect’s approval because he considered the existing chapel improper anyway and felt that putting Nian’s image in the new shrine would be a cheap and proper way to recompense Nian (Zhuang Yijun, “Record of the Encouraging Loyalty Shrine”). Then, the Jiang bridge chapel location being very quiet, the group feared neglect and requested a more populated place so it would last (Gu Po, “Record of the Encouraging Loyalty Shrine,” 90). This sounds like a process of accruing ling.

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Locals who served their hometowns could be presented as loyally working for the whole country and the emperor. Overall, living shrines to local men were conceptualized as resembling those to officials. Some locals were enshrined when not at home much, like Minister of Justice Xiao Daheng before he retired.77 But most gentrymen in office stayed in touch with home, and retired and were buried there. Living shrines to locals were usually unnecessary, but they were not wrong.

A Claim on Sovereignty? This dynamic played into the Donglin claims to sovereignty that Harry Miller has identified, as discussed in the introduction to this book. A stele written a century after the hometown shrines to Nian Can makes the analogy with officials explicit, turns it into a seamless connection, gives the enshrinee all the credit, and thus creates a claim to independent gentry authority. Donglin leader Gu Xiancheng writes that he was at home in Wuxi, disengaged from worldly affairs, when a group of elders led by one Zhao Ren insisted on seeing him. He pre­ sents them as going into improbable detail about a situation he most likely already understood: the great corvée burdens borne by the Jiang­ nan region and its tax captains. Fortunately, the elders reported, fellow native Gong Mian had worked out a solution that cut their expenses by half, and the circuit implemented it. Everyone (renren) considered him virtuous, and at every meal they prayed: “Heaven, as long as we exist, let there be nothing that would bring Mr. [‌Gong‌] regret!” They had built a living shrine in the “Southern City Academy,” a beautiful 77. Xiao Daheng was a friend and collaborator of Ricci’s, enshrined at home on Mount Tai in 1608. Edouard Chavannes saw the shrine in the early twentieth century, but the stele was gone (DMB, 545, citing Chavannes, Le T’ai Chan; see Chavannes map 234, p. 150; Chavannes does not say it was a premortem shrine). Xiao’s biography in the 1692 SD Ji’nan fuzhi (34/8), however, mentions neither shrine nor stele; and this is a gazetteer that mentions shrines and steles every chance it gets. The gazetteer does acknowledge that he was entered into the Shrine to Local Worthies.

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spot where Gong had studied, and the magistrate had reported it to the circuit. Now, worried that even with the shrine the particulars of the tax resolution would fade, they planned to inscribe a stone to last forever. Would Gu compose a record?—this speech takes up sixteen or seventeen lines. Gu responded at even greater length. Since he knew Gong, he had an idea of his thoughts: in office, the gentleman takes the joys and sorrows of his whole jurisdiction as his own joys and sorrows. That is his responsibility, and he receives reward and punishment accordingly, not shirking emergency tasks either. Even in office, only one who has achieved benevolence (ren: the leading elder’s given name) can diligently read the Classics in the morning and encamp at night, absolutely desiring to go along with what the people like and eliminate what they dislike. As for retirees nowadays—the lofty-minded seek pleasure in cliffs and streams, the petty-minded grub around after fields and houses. Only Gong Mian could carry the benevolence of office home, considering the joys and sorrows of the whole district of neighbors his responsibility just as if he were in office. After all, Gu pointed out, Gong has been a magistrate twice and prefect once, and he has held higher office as well, and everywhere he went his grace permeated into the people so that they missed him without forgetting: the testament is that he already has living shrines in two places—Gu gave the project his blessing, hoping that it would set a good example. Zhao and the others rose and bowed, saying that they had learned not only about Gong’s mind but also about Gu’s and would inscribe it on stone. Gu’s argument seems to point initially toward a claim that only the appointed authorities should take responsibility for their jurisdictions, a view that already excludes the interests of the central government except insofar as they are identical with those of subjects. But Gu transforms this argument in precisely the way one would expect of a Dong­lin partisan arguing for the leadership of “righteous” educated landlords. Having learned and practiced benevolence, Gong Mian could not switch it off. He was perfectly justified in helping his townsmen as if he were in office: by uniting with them emotionally, working out a solution, and shepherding it through the bureaucracy.

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Donglin partisans were building on Ming tradition when they claimed moral authority through the appeal to wide public opinion. True and rightful judgment of resident administrators rested with the local people. The next chapter will argue that that conception produced a political theory, never fully articulated, that granted to resident administrators a certain political and cosmic autonomy.

Chapter Nine

The Minor Mandate

K

ong Yong, a fifty-eighth-generation descendant of Confucius, as magistrate of Duchang in about 1455 offered parental service until his brother took a higher office nearby, necessitating his transfer. In later posts, he, like his father before him, managed banditry and ethnic uprisings with compassion, not just brute force. In 1467, he was posted to Gaozhou in Guangdong as prefect in the midst of an invasion of roving bandits from Guangxi that his predecessor had failed to manage. Bravely Kong rode to the bandit lair, dismounted, and announced that he was the new prefect. He urged the bandits to come back with him to the office compound, where he would reward them and recognize their having returned to the good. If you trust me, send me back, then join me; if you don’t trust me, you can kill me, he told them. “The former prefect wanted to attack you. Now I have the court’s mandate (ming) to come and be your parent-official, seeing you as my own sons and grandsons—I cannot bear to kill or harm you!”1 Kong died on duty, traveling by boat. When he died, at high noon, a white mist arose from the boat, going straight up to the heavens and twinkling like a star.2 Kong Yong claimed a “mandate” from the court, not from Heaven directly; and he ascended only as a star, one among many. Yet this 1. Deng Shilong, Guo chao dian gu 33/547; Mingshi 15/172/4599–600; 1729/1736 SD Shandong tongzhi 283/16. 2. Yao Zhiyin, Yuan Ming shi lei chao 25/17.

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chapter argues that his story reflects a political conception we can see in premortem discourse and practice, a conception that was never quite articulated, which I call the “Minor Mandate.”3 Chen Tian­ xiang’s ­t heory of the body politic, quoted in the book’s introduction, linked the emperor and the population directly. It rendered Chen himself, as a resident administrator, invisible, but in fact it was officials in that posi­tion who mediated most subjects’ relation to the dynasty. The Confucian jun-chen relationship is translated both “ruler-minister” and “ruler-subject” because it was in reality not dyadic, but a threeway relationship.4 The Minor Mandate arises out of tensions in that relationship. In Ming imperial theory, the emperor alone had the legitimate authority to make law and decisions. That was because, as John W. Dardess expresses it, “he alone was visibly and openly accountable to Heaven, and to the public in the abstract, for the security and well-­ being of the social order. . . . Bureaucracy had no independent legitimacy. It was simply so many ropes and strings.”5 Yonglin Jiang agrees: in early Ming legal cosmology officials only mediated between the emperor and the people, necessary given human limitations, but without the “primordial cosmic status” of the other two groups.6 Yet Ming Confucians famously acted as moral heroes daring death to speak truth to power. They did not see themselves as just “so many ropes and strings.” Local subjects, too, disagreed with this dogma, treating resident administrators as men who could be won over, called to account, and 3. For an earlier version of this argument, see Schneewind, “Reduce, Re-use, Recycle.” 4. Schneewind, “Book of the Five Relationships,” 224. 5. Dardess, Confucianism and Autocracy, 252. Cf. Fang and Des Forges, “Were Chinese Rulers above the Law?,” 126–30. Romeyn Taylor draws attention to the holistic, even poetic, discussion of the net ropes of government in the Collected Statutes of Great Ming and to the cosmic, not purely instrumental, relations among the different parts of the Ming state. Taylor, “Cosmos and History,” 13–14. The tensions in the jun-chen relationship are like those in the relation of party-state, local cadres, and citizens in the People’s Republic of China; see especially Madsen, Morality and Power, and Shue, Reach of the State. 6. Jiang, Mandate of Heaven, 160. Wills calls officials “morally independent but politically completely dependent on appointment by a ruler” (Mountain of Fame, 23).



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supported in opposition to central demands. On the other hand, Ming emperors after Taizu had not been directly selected by Heaven, but inherited the throne as a kind of delegate of Taizu. Scholars often write as if only one perspective held—as if the most emperor-centered interpretation of Mandate ideology went unchallenged. Xu Yinong, for instance, writing about Chinese cities, says that to understand county and prefectural seats as scaled down, but still sacred, versions of the capital “would be totally contradictory to the conception and nature of the imperial system,” as contradictory as equating the emperor’s Mandate over everyone with the delegated and temporary authority of officials.7 Yet although the Altar of Heaven, which Xu identifies as the key feature in the uniqueness of the capital, may not have been replicated in the county seats, many capital cults were. The magistrate attended to the altars of soil and grain, the hungry ghost altar, the Confucius temple, the City God temple, and so on. Furthermore, in Ming thinking the emperor was not the only possible center of the world: to say nothing of the multiplicity and vast time scales of the Buddhist universe, the common practice and theory of fengshui centered the cosmos on the pragmatic interests of self or family, and popular Daoism on the individual human body, moving out to the village, and then the realm.8 Every person had a “nature mandated/ decreed by Heaven” (Tian ming zhi xing), as the Classics put it. I do not propose fully equating the magistrate’s authority with that of the emperor, but we should recognize that Ming people could perfectly well hold views that differed from imperial political theory. Moreover, Chinese history offered another model of authority, feudalism. Alexander Woodside has argued that that model of long-term bonds between lords and their domains, more or less eliminated by Qin, “went underground” and “took the form of what one might call a 7. Yinong Xu, Chinese City, 63–66. Xu never adequately deals with the fact that Great Ming had two capitals, either, misidentifying Nanjing as “function[‌ing after 1421‌] as a provincial capital.” 8. Bruun, Fengshui, 5–6; Lagerwey, China: A Religious State, 17. In records of the building of living shrines, as with any other significant building, we see sponsors divining a good spot, presumably with the help of fengshui experts.

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spiritual micromonarchism, based upon families and big lineages.”9 Donglin sympathizer Ni Yuanlu argued that “even the most worthy officials will move on after three years, whereas local people will be judged by descendants for a hundred years; thus, even if the local people in charge are not capable, they will do no harm.”10 Yet gentry abused their neighbors as often as officials did their subjects, and premortem practice shows an alternative underground faux feudalism, one that drew upon the family as metaphor to create a shadow local state centered on the central state’s delegates, granting them an authority that was not merely delegated. In this jun-chen dyad the magistrate or prefect was the “ruler” and local residents were the “ministers.” Mandate ideology required the ruler to heed hypothetical wise and virtuous advisors; at the county level, an idealized “people,” often elders, played that role. I argue that the in-between position of resident administrators and the rhetoric of popular approval generated a theory that administrators could earn an autonomous legitimacy in their jurisdictions. Unlike reciprocity, gratitude, parentalism, efficacy, and flattery, “Minor Mandate” is not a term that occurs in Ming sources, but it names a pattern that I see.11 The Minor Mandate was not an exact, fractal copy of the Mandate of Heaven but shared some of its characteristics. I will draw ten parallels. First, as quoted in the Introduction, Taizu insisted on his unique status as the Son of Heaven and Earth. But, in another sense, Heaven and Earth cosmically bore and nurtured everyone.12 This meant that terms like “parent” and “grandparent” could be used in various ways to express relations of power, as historians have shown. Wu Zhihe reports that the magistrate’s power to destroy families won the appellation “Big Grandpa of the Blue Heaven.”13 The emperor, sometimes father to the 9. Woodside, “Emperors and the Chinese Political System,” 11. 10. Quoted in Smith, Art of Doing Good, 207. 11. Schneewind, “Reduce, Re-use, Recycle,” 142–43, argues that the Ming History recognizes this conception. As James Farr points out, concepts may be expressed in language and be subject to historical processes and political use without particular emic labels. If we identify such concepts, we may name them in order to speak about them. Farr, “Understanding Conceptual Change Politically,” 27 n. 2. 12. Taylor, “Spirits of the Penumbra,” 123. 13. Wu Zhihe, “Mingdai de xianling,” 16.



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people, was sometimes grandfather.14 Angela Zito points out that the magistrate’s middle position constituted a (quite normal) double “familial” relationship like Taizu’s to Heaven and the people: magistrates were “sons” to the emperor but “parents” to the people.15 The flexible positionality of metaphors meant that magistrates could be spoken of in universal terms that echo Ming Taizu’s claims to a special relation with Heaven and Earth. For instance, Wei Kewan wrote of parental magistrate Zheng Sanjun: “Is all this not the measure of a Heavenly father and Earthly mother (ganfu kunmu)? His sincerity suffices to cover as Heaven and support as Earth (fudai) everything under the canopy of the sky without the tiniest omission.”16 Second, it is true that working for the locality could be practically and rhetorically aligned with working for the dynasty; a prefect enshrined for lowering cloth-tax and corvée demands “put the guojia first and put himself last.”17 But some sources theorized a legitimate separate space for local recompense. Xu Jie wrote that, although Qin Jin had done good service for the whole state in preserving the original qi of the dynasty, it was proper for Fengqiu County alone to enshrine him locally, as his contributions in battle were readily visible there.18 Another shrine record says: If one has done something for the whole world (tianxia), the world should recompense him, and it is the same if it is one country (guo) or one county. But the ritual recompense of the world or one country springs from the court; recompense in one county comes 14. For a Ming palace eunuch referring to the emperor as “Grandpa,” see Meskill, Gentlemanly Interests, 62. The same essay reports a bystander calling a notorious drunken local rascal “old grandad.” 15. Zito, “City Gods.” 16. Wei Kewan, “Stele on the Virtuous Governance of Yuanshi County Magistrate Mr. Zheng [‌Sanjun‌].” 17. Gu Lin, “Record of the Living Shrine to Yingtian Prefect Mr. Wang Kuang” 4/14b. The shrine appears in gazetteers, including 1577+1592 NZ Yingtian fuzhi (which praises him as the best prefect of Ming times): for his biography, 24/26–27 (353–54); for his shrine, still listed twenty years after his death as “Mr. Wang’s Living Shrine,” 20/7a. See also 1534 NZ Nanji zhi 5/23. 18. Xu Jie, “Record of Fengqiu County’s Rebuilding of the Living Shrine to Mr. Qin [‌Jin‌] Fengshan.” Xu Jie and Qin both served at Jiajing’s court, and this stele may have played a role in court relations. The rebuilding, when Qin Jin was still alive, was also commemorated by Xu Jin.

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from the hearts-and-minds of the masses of the people (fu ren) responding with endless happiness and respect.19 This rhetoric likens the space of the county to the space of the empire, but also distinguishes it as a semiseparate realm of political contribution and moral response. Third, these contributions respected boundaries; magistrates worked in relation to their counties, not the whole Ming realm. A fictional Daoist in a Ming novel calls the magistrate “the lord of the county” and treats the jurisdiction as a realm: a paper moon he makes for “both the magistrate on high and the people below” is visible in and around the city, not in other counties. 20 Magistrates typically dealt with locust infestations by excluding them only from their own jurisdictions, and other achievements, from ending drought to avoiding special requisition, are often contrasted with the misery of other counties. Qin Jin saved Fengqiu partly by scattering the bandits to other counties.21 Rather than being legitimated by abstract values or service to the nation as a whole, magistrates responded to a Minor Mandate from their own subjects. Fourth, a key aspect of the Mandate was that Heaven signaled how well the emperor was doing through omens and portents like astronomical events, natural oddities, and popular ditties.22 An early Ming memorial says that Heaven will warn its son by hanging signs in the sky, and just so “if from among the people there come forth words that hit the mark, then this is a case of words that Heaven has caused to be spoken. If the ruler of men then heeds these words and takes them to 19. Lu Wangfeng, “Stele for the Living Shrine to Military Vice-Commissioner Wang [Dayong].” 20. Fusek, Three Sui, 71–72, 73. 21. Xu Jie, “Record of Fengqiu County’s Rebuilding of the Living Shrine to Mr. Qin [‌Jin‌] Fengshan.” 22. The political/omenological collection of popular ditties has been much discussed, for example, in Nylan, Five Confucian Classics, 78–84. For whether such songs were intelligent expressions of political thought or spontaneous portents of unease, see Strickmann, Chinese Poetry, 94; Powers, Art and Political Expression, 346; and Brashier, Ancestral Memory, 257–60, 357. The widely memorized Book of Odes shows common people blaming as well as lauding rulers for specific policies, including policies of silencing them. For a 1937 argument that songs are more valuable than writings because songs are less easy to police and can embed useful policy suggestions, see Tao Yuanzhen, “Ge yao he min yi.”



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heart, then Heaven will be pleased with his not disobeying the instructions.”23 Heaven is putting words in people’s mouths. Whether understood as a deity’s intended message or the natural resonance of the cosmos with the emperor, its pivot, such signs were interpreted by officials to argue for or against particular policies at court. Likewise, omens and ditties also commented on resident administrators, linking them with the locality in the same way the emperor was linked with the empire. This was not necessarily new in Ming: Martin Powers points out that just before the turn of the millennium, Han emperors began blaming officials for portentous disasters in their jurisdictions, which, he writes, “curiously implied that officials, too, could share in Heaven’s legitimizing power.”24 Gazetteers report of resident administrators that “the people made a song lauding his virtue” or just “the people sang about him.”25 (Of course, there were rude songs, too.)26 Among many examples, a song lauded a Fujian official whose benevolent government had brought a gathering of white magpies.27 A Ming preface to a collection of writings around a stele says that the emperor’s awesome spirit permeates everything, but people “forget” him as they did the sage-king Yao; county officials, however, they sing about. If they hold someone in their hearts, no curb will stop their songs; if they resent someone, the songs cannot be forced. This natural process guarantees that a county’s words of praise are true, and that is why wise rulers have always collected songs.28 Ditties evinced popularity when a shrine was proposed: along with poems by the gentry, Magistrate He earned three ballads sung by

23. Taylor, “Official Religion,” 849, from Taizu shilu 109/2a–4b. 24. Powers, Art and Political Expression, 227. 25. 1692 SD Ji’nan fuzhi 41/10; 1733 HG Huguang tongzhi 41/55. 26. Zhan Ruoshui recorded one: “The prefect is like soft ooze; the assistant prefect is like tofu; they got rid of Vice-Prefect Liu, and ruined Leizhoufu” (Schneewind, Community Schools, 145). Brook, “State Censorship,” reports that the Qing outlawed such satirical ballads. The little odes for each honored magistrate in one gazetteer might have been an effort to preempt rude songs or seed nice ones (1502 FJ Jiangle xianzhi 4/847 ff.). 27. 1684 FJ Fujian tongzhi 31/1. 28. Cen Wan, “Preface to the Collection on the Enbosoming Virtue Shrine [‌to Tan Kai‌].”

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“the fathers in the fields and the wives in the villages.”29 In the Cheng­ hua period, Vice-Magistrate Yuan Long served and lived in Shangyuan County for a long time; “the people loved him like a parent” and made a song about him called “Yuan Comforts the People.”30 “Pure as water, bright as a mirror,” went a ditty for one premortem enshrinee.31 Wang Dayong had dealt with entrenched banditry, and the commoners sang: Father Wang gave us life, protected us a lot; the forts subdued, our happiness has a real prop. Oh, the hills lush and green! Oh, the streams, rushing clean! The shrine is built, the stone engraved: forever carrying the sound of praise. 32

Song, shrine, and stele symbolically incorporate Wang into the landscape, human and natural. In addition to evoking spontaneous omens of approval, the emperor was able to make rain by prayer and ritual.33 Magistrates also made rain in their jurisdictions. For Zhou Bin in about 1460, the Jiangyin people sang: Drought our bane! Magistrate prayed; sweet rain came. Flood made disaster! Magistrate prayed; dark clouds scattered.34 29. Wang Shizhen, “Record of the Living Shrine to Great Minister of Successive Reigns and Former Magistrate of Huaiyuan Mr. He [Li] of Xinyang.” Wang Shizhen knew He’s father well. 30. 1593/97 NZ Shangyuan xianzhi 7/15. 31. 1608+1717 SD Wenshang xianzhi 2/10. 32. Lu Wangfeng, “Stele for the Living Shrine to Military Vice-Commissioner Wang [Dayong].” 33. For just one example see Langlois, “Hung-wu Reign,” 122. Daoists and other religious specialists and various deities and spirits also made rain. 34. Jiao Hong, Guochao xianzheng lu 99/6–7; slightly different in Mingshi 14/162/4419. They enshrined him upon departure. For how a ditty changed in the retelling, see Schneewind, “Reduce, Re-use, Recycle,” 141.



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The emperor’s Mandate, including the ability to control the weather, was recognized or threatened by omens and by popular songs. Magistrates’ rightful authority took the same forms. Fifth, some men enshrined as officials acted much the same at home and got the same kind of response without having been delegated by the emperor to govern. Cai Chao had won a living shrine as an ­official, as discussed in chapter 4. When he retired and went home, he improved fords, built bridges (some still exist), provided ferries, and publicized prescriptions. His charisma was efficacious: whenever drought or flood struck, he led the elders of his rural district (xiang qi) to pray at the shrines of deities and always got a response. In fact, his commitment cost his life. Drought in the summer of 1549 was especially fierce. Purifying himself with a vegetarian diet, he went to pray outside, braving the heat to the point of illness. The doctors’ medicine had no effect, so he died a natural death, lying straight on his bed, at the old age of eighty-three. That very night, fierce winds and shaking thunder came crashing, swirling around above the place he had lived. . . . On the day he died, everyone was upset. The village/local people (xiangren) old and young cried and wept, hurrying their steps to condole together, as if burying their own parent.35

Like Taizu himself, Cai had imitated the shamans of old, exposing himself to the sun to bring rain. Since a local Confucian could move Heaven through personal efficacy, we need not assume that Confucians in office did so only by virtue of their delegation by the emperor. In arguing for the emergence of the county in consciousness, Kenneth Dean has shown that the community compact, practiced locally, had its own political cosmic force. “Chickens and dogs depend on [‌it‌] for their tranquility. The hundred grains, fruits and trees depend on it to grow. The water in the streams and channels of the irrigation system flow smoothly because of it.”36 The semiautonomous locality, whose good locals could themselves call forth Heavenly responses, was

35. Cai Yuncheng, “The Facts of My Late Father’s Actions.” 36. Stele of 1588 quoted in Dean, “Growth of Local Control,” 230.

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governed by a magistrate initially delegated by the Son of Heaven but who could also hold or fail to hold a minor version of the Mandate. Sixth, some officials’ efficacy outlived their terms or reached beyond the borders of their jurisdictions to places they had not been delegated to govern. Liu Bin, who rushed from his sickbed to defend his former jurisdiction, and Hao Jiong, whose ghostly banners frightened bandits away from the county next door, are examples. Qin Jin was not the magistrate, but, when all other officials fled before the rebel Tiger Yang, he adopted Fengqiu “as my infant” and saved the whole city, earning a shrine.37 Song An was magistrate of Neihuang County, so poor and troubled by central demands that many of its residents had fled, but news of his effective action spread rapidly so that nine hundred families returned to the county. The yamen staff even of neighboring prefectures and counties admired him. The author of the shrine record, a local man employed at court, concludes that he had agreed to write the record to show how the sagely dynasty’s officials and delegates (guanshi) won people over.38 But Song’s power had exceeded his delegated task. His own Minor Mandate, not the dynasty’s authorization, underlay his influence. Seventh, Taizu tried to monopolize the relationship with Heaven, forbidding others to offer sacrifices.39 Counties therefore had no altar to Heaven. But resident administrators often communicated directly with Heaven. Prefect Fang Keqin, father of the martyred Xiaoru, beseeched Heaven’s help in ridding the jurisdiction of locusts—they flew off in the night, precisely observing the borders of Jining Prefecture so that only Jining was spared famine—and for rain that saved local ­people from government demands for labor in two different ways.40 When terrible flooding hit Xinghua, “elders, gentry, and commoners” crowded around Magistrate Li Dai’s carriage crying. Li looked 37. Xu Jie, “Record of Fengqiu County’s Rebuilding of the Living Shrine to Mr. Qin [‌Jin‌] Fengshan.” 38. Liu Ju, “Hanlin Senior Compiler Liu Ju Takes Up [‌His Brush to Write‌] a Verse to Record the Living Shrine to Subprefect in Charge of the Affairs of Neihuang County Mr. Song An.” 39. Langlois, “Hung-wu Reign,” 122. 40. Schneewind, “Reduce, Re-use, Recycle,” 124, 140. Many of the tropes about parental officials occur in Fang Keqin’s biographies.



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up to Heaven and swore that he would feed, clothe, and shelter them even if it meant that he himself went without.41 In Yuanshi, any drought left nine out of ten homes in every village empty, so Magistrate Xue Zhen taught the commoners how to dig wells, rewarding them for each well with three dou measures of grain in a model imitated by nearby counties; he improved and taught at the school so more young men began to pass exams; he worked on tax equity between rich and poor; he put people in charge of some problems themselves but in other cases switched from requisitioning to paying for goods such as firewood; he controlled the clerks but was sparing in his use of punishment; he worked on land reclamation; and he gave out grain coupons when hunger threatened owing to a lack of spring rain. He also brought rain by going on foot, in plain clothing, to pray and ask for a command (ming) from Heaven, saying, “If Heaven does not send down a good soaking rain and the lovely grain will not sprout, how am I to save the people and keep them alive?” The year was without hunger. Just as miraculously— and appearing next in the record—he stopped robbery and thievery and reduced lawsuits. Nine years after Xue’s departure, the commoners (baixing) built him a premortem shrine.42 Xue’s relationship with Heaven was direct, not merely mediated by the emperor. Eighth, mere delegates would uphold national law, not play the role of law-giver. Many resident administrators followed their own counsel in creating and destroying religious institutions.43 Wu Jie’s stele for Li Duan begins by commenting that magistrates within the capital area (Beizhili) have a harder task than others, and only one has mastered it: Li Duan. Wu expects no later magistrates will live up to Li, even with the benefit of the stele and poem about him, displayed for the benefit of these “second-rate” officials. Wu does not blame the emperor for the generally poor quality of governance, and he gives the emperor credit for appointing Li. Nevertheless, his description of Li’s actions in office emphasizes his autonomy from the Ming center—until the moment he is recalled for a promotion. Li carried out all the kinds of parentalist 41. Yuan Zhu, “Record of the Shrine to Mr. Li [‌Dai‌].” 42. Zhao Xingbang and Zhi Sui, “Stele Record of the Virtuous Governing of Mr. Xue [‌Zhen‌].” 43. See, for example, Schneewind, Community Schools, 70–73.

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governance we saw in chapter 2. Measuring land and setting up tax rules, he explained the meaning of the law until it was crystal clear, and people warned one another not to break “His Honor’s rules.” People in neighboring counties brought him their civil suits and abided by his decisions. Finally his reputation reached the court, and the emperor decided to put him in charge of a prefecture.44 Li makes law almost on his own authority—but not quite. Ninth, local honors both fed information and local judgments into central historiography, with its didactic and cosmic missions, and played a direct role in cosmic justice. After death, many scholars have pointed out, magistrates often became City Gods, or judges in the underworld. Liu Tianhe was honored with various signs of popular approval throughout his long career. Early on, when he suffered arrest after clashing with a powerful court eunuch, ten thousand people of the jurisdiction saw him off, weeping.45 When he was finally released from jail, he served in Jintan County, where he was enshrined while alive, as he was in other places during a long career that included a decade in Shaanxi.46 He became a City God in Shaanxi after death, as a Shaanxi merchant testified. Traveling at night through Macheng in Huguang, Liu’s home county, the merchant was startled to see a great company of banners and mounted soldiers (clearly spirits), led by an acquaintance, Mr. Cai. Cai explained that Liu Tianhe’s term of office as City God of Shaan was ending in a promotion to City God of the Capital. Cai was on his way to replace Liu, and he told the merchant: “You are loyal and true, and should follow me and act as a judicial official.” When he had finished speaking, he vanished. The merchant was completely terrified. Not long after he returned home, he heard that Cai had died. The merchant ordered his wife and children to prepare 44. Wu Jie, “Stele on the Governing Accomplishments of Gu’an Magistrate Mr. Li [‌Duan‌].” For Fang Keqin’s compact made directly with the people, see Schneewind, “Reduce, Re-use, Recycle,” 143. 45. Mingshi 17/200/5292. 46. 1624 ZJ Wuxing beizhi, j. 32. He was enshrined while alive inside the Wucheng County school for his benevolent government. See also his epitaph by Wang Shizhen, Yanzhou sibu gao 86/2. He and two others earned a Three Merits Shrine (san gong ci) in about 1534, when they put down a longstanding bandit problem (1736 ZJ Zhejiang tongzhi 220/21 reports from the 1561 edition).



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a coffin and then he too died—clearly to go serve under Cai, though he was only a merchant, not even important enough for the compiler, Wang Tonggui, to record his surname. Wang Tonggui comments on this story: “The affair of Liu [‌Tianhe‌] was like this. The people of the county often sighed saying, [‌Liu‌] guarded the passes of Shaan for more than a decade. His merit and virtue were very flourishing. The Shaanxi people considered him virtuous. When he died, he became a god. Heaven does indeed follow the people’s wishes (Tian yi cong min yuan).”47 Liu had held a number of important posts, done yeoman duty for the dynasty, retired honorably as minister of war, and received posthumous dynastic honors. But these were not what qualified Liu to serve as City God. Instead, Wang highlighted the opinion of the people of Liu’s jurisdiction and affirmed that that was what mattered to the Heavenly bureaucracy. Local approval, signaled by a living shrine, contributed directly to justice in the underworld. Liu was mandated by Heaven to serve the political cosmos on the say-so of local people. Finally, local gazetteers themselves express the Minor Mandate. Gu Yanwu wrote that “good local gazetteers laid the foundation for a reliable dynastic history in the same way that local officials were the basis of peace and prosperity throughout the empire.”48 Gazetteers themselves frequently make the parallel: “A prefecture or county having a gazetteer is like a family having a genealogy and a state having a history; only their scale is different.”49 Some gazetteers are organized like dynastic histories, and one is organized by the six offices of the local government office, which mirrored the six ministries at the capital.50 Some have “annals” sections that march through time unbounded by the dynasty: events include both the national honors granted to native sons (noted in the year they took their first degree) and the arrival of and local honors granted to magistrates.51 Gazetteers upheld the legitimacy of the rule of hereditary chiefs on the border, Joseph Dennis has concluded.52 As for magistrates, some gazetteers elevate as a sign of honor both the

47. Wang Tonggui, Ertan leizeng 29/9 (179). 48. Delury, “Despotism,” 41. Gu wrote a gazetteer of the whole country. 49. Dennis, Writing, Publishing and Reading, 113–14; see also p. 25. 50. Dennis, Writing, Publishing and Reading, 153, 33–35. 51. E.g., 1672 BZ Pingxiang xianzhi 2/19 (151). 52. Dennis, Writing, Publishing and Reading, 63.

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name of the dynasty or emperor and the magistrate’s informal title “Father-and-Mother” (fig. 9.1).53 Overall, the likening of local gazetteers to national history suggests that resident administrators themselves were like the emperor. Although they had first to be put in office by the imperial bureaucracy, in Ming political theory they could appear not as mere “ropes and strings,” but as holding, or having the possibility of earning, some autonomous legitimacy. On one side of the Minor Mandate stands the resident administrator in semiautonomous authority. But on the other side stand the people, whose livelihood, feelings, and considered views uphold that authority. To hold his Minor Mandate, the magistrate must carry out ritual duties properly, heed wise men (gentry and elders), and secure his subjects’ livelihood. Celebrations of resident administrators include these characteristics, and, far from being the result of delegation, they often appear most strongly in cases of opposition to higher officials and the center. The gratitude of the people for reduced tax demands was so widely recognized that tax reduction could become central policy precisely to forestall lesser officials taking the credit. The great centralizer Zhang Juzheng, whom we saw in chapter 4 objecting to the way premortem shrines expressed the narrow interests of a locality, wrote elsewhere: I have said before that such a promulgation of virtue and beneficence [‌as the waiving of tax arrears‌] had better come from the Court (chu zi chao­ ting). If local officials ask for and receive such waivers, then gratitude will remain below with the said local officials, and resentment will be directed upward at the Court. . . . Even if these arrears are waived, it will not immediately harm the state’s revenue, and the common people will be so full of gratitude that their chorus of thanks will be heard throughout the universe. Popular sentiment will be firm [‌in the state’s favor‌] and the root of the state (bangben) will be pacified.54



53. 1630 SX Guangchang xianzhi 581, 584, 586–87, 589. 54. Harry Miller, State versus Gentry, 53.



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Fig. 9.1.   Elevation of an honorary title for magistrate in a gazetteer. Terms like “the emperor” and “imperial court” were elevated above the normal lines of text. A Shanxi gazetteer elevates the honorary title “Our Old Father-and-Mother Mr. Liu,” referring to an honored magistrate, in the same way. Source: 1630 SX Guangchang xianzhi.

Zhang was attempting to reclaim ground for the court from the Minor Mandate. For resident administrators who acted according to their own consciences, the Minor Mandate offered a vision in which the loss of central control—the shift of decisions into their hands and even the hands of local people themselves—represented not disorder but an alternate or nested cosmic order. R. Bin Wong has written, “Popular support was crucial to maintaining the Mandate of Heaven. . . . The very familiarity of Chinese maxims for rule [‌t hat stress this point‌] leads specialists to discount their significance.”55 This insight extends to the Minor Mandate. Alexander Woodside writes: “Humble Chinese workers and peasants, while probably still believing in some sort of monarch as a guarantor

55. Wong, China Transformed, 92–93.

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of cosmic stability, had never held personal fantasies about the benign sacredness or loving kindness of individual reigning emperors.”56 To the extent that ordinary people did hold, or at least express, such fantasies about resident administrators, magistrates could earn more legitimacy than emperors in the cosmic polity.

56. Woodside, “Emperors and the Chinese Political System,” 24.

Conclusion

A

common view of Great Ming, summarized and endorsed by ­Orville Schell in 2016, is that it represented “a high tide of Chinese despotism . . . characterized by factionalism, intrigue, paranoia, intimidation, fratricide, and extrajudicial ruthlessness.”1 Its state personnel included vicious and incompetent rulers, eunuchs equally victimized and victimizing, and bureaucrats—with notable exceptions—the most corrupt of any Chinese dynasty.2 The educated brainwashed themselves to serve the state; the wealthy only yearned for their sons to do the same. Ming commoners seem shut out of politics by the triple bar of a powerful centralized monarchy legitimated by Heaven itself, a wealthy and abusive ruling class justified by expensive education in an old ortho­doxy, and ways of thought that emphasized hierarchy over equality. True! All true! But turning our eyes ever so slightly away from the imperial court, we can see other political patterns, too. Beginning perhaps in Song times, subjects developed an existing institution, the living shrine, to cajole and pressure prefects and magistrates into attending to what they read in the histories and the Classics: that the people’s livelihood should be the priority of the state and the core charge of Confucians in office. Local residents adopted a key Confucian relationship—parent and child—and deployed it metaphorically to raise their demands to the level of principle, cloaking a quid 1. Schell, “Crackdown in China,” 14. 2. Guo Jian, Gudai faguan, 207.

288 Conclusion

pro quo exchange in filial sentiment. You lower our taxes now; we will make offerings—very soon and for a long time—to requite or recompense your care. At the same time, ideas about karma earned and passed to the next generation connected the locality’s good with an official’s family fortunes—a situation that the bureaucratic system was specifically designed to avoid, and which Gu Yanwu promoted. At times, when popular officials clashed with their superiors or their policies were reversed, local commemoration even meant popular participation in national politics. The sacred space of the shrine gave ritual weight to the process and put the shrines on the itinerary when an incoming official toured the temples and altars. Installing live officials in deity shrines reinforced the conception that officials’ charismatic power to get things done waxed and waned with reputation in the same way that a god’s ling waxed and waned as his cult warmed and cooled. The regulations about shrines in article 141 of the Ming Code, which built on earlier laws, appear in the historical record less as restrictions than as a wellspring of rhetoric and practice. The “real achievements” the law demanded were lovingly detailed in steles—thus providing a blueprint of local policy preferences for incoming officials. The legal ban on commissioning others to propose a shrine to oneself expressed the tension between sincere thanks and purposeful flattery that dogs any such commemoration, and, generation after generation, writers resolved that tension with demonstrations that the broad public supported a shrine. Commoners featured prominently. Their words and thoughts, not just their inchoate feelings, were imagined or transcribed at length by elite writers. The trope of an active public of gentry and com­moners took on a life of its own in several ways as it grew into a theory of legitimation: it moved into records for posthumous shrines, which required only elite sponsorship; it may have underlain the actual participation by commoners in sponsoring shrines that chapter 6 documents; and it gave real or fabricated popular approval a prominent place in elite politics. The legal ban on self-enshrinement also meant that officials objected to their own enshrinement, opening the way for limited glorification of disobedient commoners, who insisted on talking back to their own magistrate and other officials, going ahead with their plan regardless of his wishes. The law banned shrines to incumbents, and the genre answered with both elaborate displays of

Conclusion

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grief upon departure and arguments centered on popular emotion so deep and proper that it justified openly breaking the law. The law’s ban on shrines and steles set up “without authorization” might seem to have required state approval, but recorded requests are rare, and the genre developed a conception that commoners ought to decide on their own, offering a shadow evaluation equal in moral weight to bureaucratic dossier evaluations. Beyond the law’s requirements, to lament that too many shrines were being built became an excuse to illustrate the worthiness of one more with the high wails and long speeches of local commoners. To point out that shrines had not existed in antiquity became a way to criticize exploitative officials today and offer rereadings of the Record of Rites in which service to the people took precedence over service to the dynasty. Premortem shrines, along with other honors reflecting these values and ways of talking, were widespread; I have discussed only a small fraction of those built in Ming times. They were a social fact, one that scholar-officials, palace eunuchs, emperors, local gentrymen, and other political players took into account. Resident administrators worked to negotiate, choose between, or rise above the contradictory demands of regime and locality, gentry and commoners, their autonomous moral authority recognized despite the bureaucratic model that made them faceless transmitters. As the later Ming state weakened early Ming methods for people to hold their county magistrates accountable, elders used living shrine practice instead. Commoners rewarded some bureaucrats and criticized others, and explicated their own vision of good governance. They pressed their resident administrators with threats, deals, blandishments, and emotional manipulation. Local and national elite writers recorded or invented commoners’ voices, putting them in high-status classical Chinese, engraving them in stone, and calling them the legitimate basis for enshrinement and other honors, the guarantee of truth in a corrupt political system. “Minor Mandate” is a way of naming the implicit political theory that legitimation of resident administrators came by the will and decision of the common people, who approved those who served their interests as they defined them. This bottom-up political theory was generated within local institutions properly established by commoners. In any individual case, the display of commoners’ approval may have been real and truly recorded,

290 Conclusion

or faked either at the level of performance or at the level of the text. But in the aggregate the data present the historian with a choice. Either the institution of the living shrine actually allowed commoners to claim and exercise the right to engage in political speech of a particular sort under the autocratic, bureaucratic Ming monarchy. Or commoners did not actually claim or exercise such a right, but a large number of elite men explicitly argued that commoners had the right to speak politically. As well as old Confucian and pragmatic talk about the popular livelihood, populist strains in Ming law, culture, economics, and especially religion played a role in the development of the theory that the people rightly determined worthiness, that the people’s faith and feelings determined whether a shrine would last, and that their fealty in turn depended on the services performed by the enshrinee. Those ideas may have drawn strength from the model of popular cults that rose and fell by their efficacy in answering petitions with miracles on the people’s say-so. Reputation and ling work by the same logic, increasing a being’s influence as long as he continues to deliver. Both gentry and commoners, including the enshrined men themselves, thought about shrines as places for reciprocal care—offerings and miracles—whether immediately or in the longer term. That sacred work gave shrines their political weight just as the emperor’s sacred charge from Heaven under­ lay his daily authority in pragmatic matters. By the time of the Dong­lin struggle with Wei Zhongxian, premortem enshrinement could bestow moral authority. It stands to reason that both of the rival factions built living shrines to demonstrate and gather public support. And who knew? Perhaps the image would pull off a miracle. Political scientist Vivienne Shue comments that often it is the “too-­ simple, ideal-typical, or dichotomous formulations that still heavily structure and haunt our own thought” which make social phenomena look “paradoxical and self-contradictory.” What sense does it make, she asks, to reify and artificially divide, for instance, “state” and “society” and then tie ourselves into knots seeking one model for their “relation”?3 Both Ming state and Ming society were composed of many

3. Shue, “Rule as Repertory,” 148.

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different institutions and players, fighting and cooperating in complex ways and drawing on various theories and repertoires of action. Similarly, although we might want to divide Ming praxis into the “religious” and the “political,” we should not be surprised that they overlap in ways that vary and change. I began this project thinking with a number of dichotomies—Wei Zhongxian/Donglin, central/local, religious/political, shrine/stele, ­ritually proper/improper, legal/illegal, gentry/commoners, presence/ absence, de/ling, honor/worship, male/female, official/civilian, life/death. To line them up, the conventional wisdom (already undermined in some ways by post-imperial scholars like Katō Genchi, C. K. Yang, and Zhao Kesheng) was that shrines to living men, if not the monstrous invention of the despicable Wei Zhongxian, were abnormal, improper, illogical institutions, illegally set up by corrupt gentry really to flatter and win favors from departing officials and palace eunuchs but ostensibly, as recorded in stele texts, to honor exemplars for their Confucian virtue (de). The facts undermine all but one of these dichotomies. Palace eunuch Wei Zhongxian, the scholar-officials of his party, and their Donglin rivals inherited two centuries of Ming premortem practice, which in turned stretched back to earlier dynasties as far as the Han, so the two factions agreed in valuing premortem shrines as a way to claim political legitimacy by proving that one had broad public backing. Shrines and other honors were recorded in the Veritable Re­ cords and the official Ming History, which stood for the cross-dynastic central claim to hegemony over moral and historical judgment and cosmic rectification, yet the honors stemmed from local practices that also produced a political discourse claiming the power of judgment for local commoners. The law treated shrines and steles in the same article, and shrines, where one would expect religious ceremonies, were sometimes said to be for remembrance and transmittal of a man’s legacy, whereas offerings were made at some steles, which one would expect to be all about text. Premortem shrines and steles, on the surface, were legal when established without prodding for an official who had left a jurisdiction after governing it well. But, on the one hand, high-ranking officials also argued in stone, in public, for the righteousness of shrines to incumbents, and the emperor himself made exceptions to permit

292 Conclusion

shrines to palace eunuchs; on the other hand, social practice often imposed a requirement not in the law, that commoners and not just local gentry sponsor the shrines. The terms used for social groups do not always permit us to know who sponsored a shrine, and, since there were so many wealthy and literate commoners and rather impoverished scholars, it is difficult to know how to separate elite and nonelite, even if we leave out clergy, eunuchs, royalty and their favorites, and other complications. And a few local gentrymen also won premortem enshrinement. Ritual propriety, too, is unclear. On the one hand, Ming premortem shrines were openly built and commemorated, often by ministers of rites. Living shrines honored Taizu’s chief ritual architect, Tao An, and some hypercorrect Confucian destroyers of popular temples. The classic staple of orthodoxy, the Record of Rites, was read as supporting premortem enshrinement, read indeed as if life or death was not an issue. On the other hand, a couple of men objected to being enshrined alive on grounds that are not entirely clear but may go beyond concerns about appearances to concerns about ritual danger. One stele opens defensively: “Why make difficulties about the shrine on account of his being alive? How could his being alive make the shrine bad?”4 Overall, however, whether a living shrine was proper or not depended largely on whether it was truly earned and who sponsored it. Pre- and postmortem shrines differed but not because one was improper and the other proper. In fact, it is not always possible to differentiate them. Lists of shrines in gazetteers may not label them clearly, and sometimes one must read a whole stele to determine whether the enshrinee was dead at the time of enshrinement. A living shrine might fail right away, or it might survive a person’s death to become a posthumous shrine overnight; in fact, it might survive for centuries and either change its name to miao or citang, or still be called a “living shrine.” Writers sometimes labeled posthumous shrines “living shrines” from sheer force of habit. Is a man who has left a county but whose image is enshrined there absent or present? What if he has not left but is enshrined? What if he has been enshrined but passes through on a journey, and 4. Guo Xi, “Record of the New Built Living Shrine to [Former Prefect] Mr. Heyang Chen [Zu].”

Conclusion

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everyone comes out to see him—was he not really there in the image? What if he is a thousand miles away and surmises that wine is being poured before his image when he feels drunk, or a sore on his arm heals when his statue is repaired? Is he absent from or present in the locality? But surely life and death are distinct? Local gentry might meet or hear about a magistrate or prefect after he had left, but for commoners that was less true. The public rituals for departing officials include some elements from funerals, like weeping and wailing, and the sources ­often say that, “when he left, they mourned as if they had lost a parent.” It is unlikely that they changed their offerings immediately upon his death, of which they might not even hear for some time. Living and dead men could sit in larger temples together, and indeed the two types of shrine could be created in the same moment, as when Changli County residents were reluctant to follow the wishes of Circuit Intendant Fan to enshrine its most famous native son, the Tang literary giant Han Yu, until Fan and the governor had dealt with their tax and corvée burdens—at which point they built a shrine to Han Yu (“Literary Star”) and the two living officials (“Prosperity Stars”) together. 5 Life and death are not clearly distinguished. At the outset it seemed a key question whether living men were honored or whether they were worshiped. But, although a few Ming sources say clearly whether shrine offerings expressed honor without expecting any result or return, or whether the offerings went to some other being who then blessed the enshrinee, or whether the enshrinee benefited from the offerings directly, in general the words used to refer to premortem practice assume that everyone knew what to do in temples and shrines, and left the results up in the air. If we could figure out what kind of power an enshrined image of a living man had, we might guess whether the image could respond to petitions with miracles. But the sources also do not draw clear lines between the morally suasive charisma of sincere Confucians and the efficacy of spirits and deities. Even while alive and present in the jurisdiction, resident administrators demonstrated the spiritual power to move spirits and gods, and 5. Huang Jingfang, “Record of the Building at Changli’s Five-Peak Mountain of the Conjoined Shrine to Han Wengong [Han Yu] and Living Shrine to Two Officials, the Governor and the Circuit Intendant.”

294 Conclusion

their practical successes in bringing rain and tax breaks lie next to one another in the sources, yet there are very few examples of miracles done by images of living men. Ming sources sometimes speak of the de of spirits and the ling of living men, and, indeed, the two apparently overlapped. Wei Zhongxian’s shrines were wrong for many reasons. He was still in office, he pressured people to build shrines, he encouraged flattery, and he could have had no close relation with people in the distant places that enshrined him. His many elaborate shrines damaged the people’s livelihood and even took over people’s homes. It is also true, however, that the Donglin partisans were obsessed with manliness. They repeatedly invoked it to oppose rule by eunuchs and women and demanded that the Tianqi emperor act like a man.6 It may be that Wei’s being a eunuch made his enshrinement particularly upsetting. So, does that undermine the very last dichotomy, gender? Officials were honored metaphorically as “father and mother,” it is true. But although in Song times Tiger Mother had been enshrined alive for defending a city, Ming women had to die to win offerings in a shrine.7 The benefit of studying institutions is that they leave a partial paper trail and can show us the complexities of the past because they have no one simple essence but are flexible.8 For the man enshrined, a living shrine could appear as an additional distinction among many in a successful career, a consolation prize in a lesser career, a badge of honor for choosing to protect the people’s wealth at the cost of angering family members, a way to assure continued sacrifices where there were no family members, or an argument for specific policies. From the central state’s point of view, such an honor for a man centrally appointed might redound to the imperial glory, warn of factionalism and corruption, or represent a principled stance against imperial abuses. Using living 6. Dardess, Blood and History, 25–27, 32, 41–42, 66, 74. 7. The possible exception is cult leader Master Tanyang. See Waltner, “Tan­ yang­zi,” 217. 8. Cf. Gordon, “Governmental Rationality,” 4: the state has no essence or inherent properties; rather its institutions are shaped by developing practices of governing, which naturally take into account developing practices of being governed.

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shrines and their steles, Ming people of various social strata worked to make themselves look good, flatter incumbent officials and those on their way up, strengthen official careers and dossiers, remember and please their teachers, do favors for friends, commemorate a visit or donation to a Buddhist temple and pray for donors, celebrate and perhaps keep as a spiritual resource generals who had dealt with depredations by pirates (who often cooperated with powerful local gentry), keep a general on the border present when his duties required circulation among garrisons, set up exemplars of virtue for incoming resident administrators, create a public space for recreation and to pressure incoming officials, express their policy preferences, criticize former and incumbent administrators, reflect on their own place in life, disparage the current age and its governance, symbolically incorporate circu­ lating bureaucrats into the local community, prepare a place of rest for after death, impose a sense of obligation upon administrators, retain them for spiritual aid after their departure, boast of the virtue of locals, pray for help, get help without even praying, replace worship of a local deity with honor for a Confucian, take a position in current philosophical debates, bend the jurisdictional rules that left some communities in the charge of incompetents, renew a connection with an ancestor, show off literary skills and historical knowledge, give a voice to disenfranchised commoners, fake that voice, claim that commoners ought to have a political voice, subvert such claims, and so on. Variety is the stuff of history.

Glossary of Chinese Terms

ai min ru zi 愛民如子: loved the people like sons/children bai 拜: bow baixing 百姓: common people, lit. the “hundred surnames” bangben 邦本: root of the state bang jun 邦君: the lord of the country bao 報: reciprocate; recompense bao bian 褒貶: praise and blame bao de 報德: requiting virtue bao en 報恩: repaying grace baogong ci 報功祠: Shrine to R ­ epay Contributions bing yi 秉彝: grasp the ritual steamer chang 常: constantly; regularly chang 嘗: in the past chongde ci 崇德祠: Shrine to ­Respect Virtue ci 祠: shrine ci 詞: text citang 祠堂: offering hall ciyu 祠宇: shrine building dai 代: representing daifu 大夫: high officials dao 禱: praying for favors

de 德: virtue; charisma de min 得民: win over the people de qi xin 得其心: win hearts-​and-​ minds dezheng bei 德政碑: Stele of Vir­ tuous Governance du 凟: sacrilegious en 恩: grace fa 法: law; methods; models feng 豐: tall and grand fengci 豐祠: grand memorial shrine fengsu 風俗: customs; local ethos fudai 覆戴: cover as Heaven and support as Earth fude ci 孚德祠: Shrine to Honor Virtue Like That of a Brooding Hen fulao 父老: elders fulao ertong 父老兒童: elders and youngsters fulao zhusheng 父老諸生: elders and various students fu ren 夫人: masses of the people ganfu kunmu 乾父坤母: Heavenly father and Earthly mother

298

Glossary of Chinese Terms

Ganhui ci 感惠祠: Responding to Grace Shrine Gantang 甘棠: sweet pear tree ganying 感應: cosmic movement and response gan yu ying 感與應: movement and response gong 公: public interest; lord; Mr.; “His Honor” gongde 功德: contributions and virtue gonglun 公論: public opinion gongshi yu min 功施於民: achievements extended to the people gong yi 公意: public consensus guanshi 官使: officials and delegates guo 國: state; dynasty; country; nation guojia 國家: dynasty; country; state; nation hao 好: to like huaide ci 懷德祠: Shrine Showing That We Hold the Virtuous to Our Bosoms hui xiang 繪像: draw an image jiangxue 講學: lecture-study practice jianshen 薦紳: retired officials ­living at home jian wei sheng ci 建為生祠: build him a living shrine jian yan 建言: submitting pro­ posals on state affairs jiaohua 教化: teaching and transformation jiatang 家堂: home shrine Jifa 祭法: Laws for Sacrifice jingshen 精神: spirit

jinpei 衿佩: youthful students jinshen 縉紳: current office ­holders while at home jinshen shimin 縉紳士民: local men who are office holders ­former and current, gentry, and commoners jitu zhi min 瘠土之民: people of the barren soil jun zhi changlao mou deng 郡之長 老某等: elders so-and-so of the prefecture junzi 君子: gentlemen juzhuang 具狀: account (of governance) kou bei 口碑: oral steles kou lu 口錄: the oral record li 力: power; charisma li 理: principle li (or limin) 黎(民): common people, lit. “black-haired masses” li ci li shi 立祠立石: set up shrine and stele lie 列: classes (of donor) lijia 里甲: hundred-and-tithing village tax group ling 靈: efficacy; spirit(s) lingqi 靈氣: a lively air lin min 臨民: close to the people Liu Gong shengci 劉公生祠: Mr./ Lord Liu’s Living Shrine li yi yi qi 禮以義起: rites arise from the right lüe 略: outline miao 廟: temple miao xiang 廟享: temple offerings min 民: subjects; commoners; civil­ ians; “the people”



Glossary of Chinese Terms

min de zhi ru fumu 民德之如父母: the people regarded him as virtuous, like a parent ming 命: mandate; fate; lifespan; command ming huan ci 名宦祠: Shrine to Eminent Officials minjian 民間: commoners min qing 民情: commoners’ feelings min zhong 民衆: commoner masses mou (mu) 畝: Chinese acre, varying wildly but approximately one-tenth of an acre nian 念: recall; invoke pifu zhi jian 匹夫之賤: even the humblest of commoners ping 平: fair, smooth qi 氣: life force qie shen qie jiu 且深且久: both deep and long lasting qie xi qie bei 且喜且悲: both happy and sad qijiu 耆舊: elder(s) qilao 耆老: elder(s) qimin 耆民: elderly commoner(s) qing 卿: ranked qin min zhi guan 親民之官: officials close to the people/parents to the people qusi bei 去思碑: Gone Yet Remembered Stele qusi ci 去思祠: Gone Yet Remembered Shrine qusi tang 去思堂: Gone Yet ­ emembered Hall R

299

ren 仁: benevolence ren de shizhu 任德尸祝: put virtue into office by worshiping (personating and invoking) ren min 人民: the people (modern Chinese) renqing 人情: popular sentiment; public opinion renren 人人: everyone renshi 人士: gentry; commoners ruo 若: like, similar ru shi 儒士: Confucian gentleman san gong ci 三功祠: Three Merits Shrine shang gong 上供: offer worship shen 神: divine; gods sheng ci zhi 生祠之: enshrine him while living sheng si 生祀: premortem worship sheng xiang 生像: living image shen jun 神君: divine lord shenshi 紳士: gentry shenshi 神食: divine meal shi 士: gentry shi 事: serve; worship shi 實 (handwritten in the source as 实): real shi er zhu 尸而祝: personate and pray to/invoke, i.e., worship shi er zhu zhi, she er ji zhi 尸而 祝之，社而稷之: personate, ­invoke, and make offerings to them, i.e., worship them shimin 士民: educated people; ­educated and ordinary people; ordinary people shiren 士人: gentry; commoners shi shen ye 是神也: this is divinity; these are gods

300

Glossary of Chinese Terms

shi shuai min 士率民: gentry led commoners shi zhu 尸祝: personate and invoke; worship shu zhuang 述狀: narrative document si 祀: perform a sacrifice; make ­offerings to si 私: self-interested si 思: yearn for si qing 私情: private feeling si yi 私意: selfish intention su 速: quickly tan 壇: altar tang 堂: large hall te si 特祠: special enshrinements tiancao 天曹: the imperial court tian fu ye lao 田夫野老: husbandmen and old farmers Tian ming zhi xing 天命之性: ­nature decreed by Heaven tianxia 天下: the world; the empire; All-Under-Heaven tianxia guojia 天下國家: whole empire and dynasty-nation Tian yi cong min yuan 天亦從民 願: Heaven indeed follows the wishes of the people ting 庭: court ting 聼: listen; obey ting 廳: small hall tu qi xing mao 圖其形貌: sketch his form and face tu xiang 圖像: paint an image wan jia xiao xiang zhu zhi 萬家肖 像祝之: “ten thousand house­ holds drew his likeness and prayed to/for/at it/him” wei 位: spirit tablet

wei bao si 為報祀: repay him with offerings wei ling 威靈: powerful influence wei sheng li ci 為生立祠: make him a shrine while he is still alive wei wu min 為吾民: for our people wenxue qilao 文學耆老: literary elders wo baixing 我百姓: my commoners wo min 我民: our/us people/ commoners wu 惡: to dislike wu dang 吾黨: our sort Wu gong ci 五公祠: Five Lords Shrine wu min 吾民: our/us people/ commoners xia min 下民: the common people xiang 象: image xiang 鄉: local xiang 享: make or enjoy offerings xiang 想: thought xiang fulao 鄉父老: local elders xiang hao 鄉豪: powerful local men xiang huan 鄉宦: former officials living in retirement at home xianglü fulao 鄉閭父老: elders of the villages xiang min 鄉民: local people xiang ping youju 鄉評有據: local opinion is reliable xiang qi 鄉耆: elders of a rural district xiangren 鄉人: villagers, county residents xiang shidafu 鄉士大夫: local gentry



Glossary of Chinese Terms

xiang xian ci 鄉賢祠: Shrine to Local Worthies xiangyue qimin 鄉約耆民: elderly commoners of the community compact xian hao 賢豪: worthy and powerful xian min 縣民: the people of the county xian mu ci 賢牧祠: Shrine to Wise Shepherds xian xian ci 先賢祠: Shrine to ­ ormer Worthies F xiao mao 肖貌: make an ­image of him xiaomin 小民: ordinary people, commoners xiaoren 小人: commoners xiao xiang 肖像: create a likeness xie zhen 寫真: draw a true portrait xie zhong 協衆: cooperate with the masses xiu min 秀民: commoners outstanding in virtue and talent xun liang 循良: upright and good officials yan 嚴: strictness yanxiu 彥秀: worthy talents yao 遥: remote ye 爺: Grandpa yi’ai 遺愛: legacy of love yi’ai bei 遺愛碑: Legacy of Love Stele yi cong zhong qing 宜從衆請: it is right to follow the request of the masses yi de miao 遺德廟: Legacy of V ­ irtue Temple yi min 邑民: the people of the county

301

yinci 淫祠: improper shrine yin de 陰德: hidden acts of virtue yin de zhi bao 陰德之報: recompense for hidden acts of virtue yin shi 陰食: sacrificial offerings yi ren 邑人: people of the county yiren 義人: righteous man yi ren shi 邑人士: county people and gentry yi shun min qing 一順民情: follow popular feeling in everything yi yi qi 以義起: arise from what is right yi zhi qilao 邑之耆老: elder(s) of the county yong qi chuan 永其傳: make his transmission/legacy last forever you 又: further; moreover you gong de yu min zhe 有功德於 民者: those who have [‌made‌] contributions and [‌shown‌] virtue to the people yousi 有司: the authorities you wei 有爲: get things done you zheng ming 有正命: to have a proper Mandate/fate/lifespan yu 諛: flattery yu lun 輿論 (舆论): public opinion; public discussion yu min 與民: unite with the people yu qing 輿情: public feeling or sentiment yu ren 與人: unite with the people yusong 輿誦: public opinion yu tian 與天: act in accord with Heaven zaisheng fumu 再生父母: secondbirth parent zheng 徴: prove; inquire; recruit; be in charge of

302

Glossary of Chinese Terms

zheng min 蒸民: the mass of commoners zhi dao 直道: straight road zhili zhuang 治理狀: account of governance zhi zhuang 治狀: dossier; account of governance zhong 衆: the masses; everyone zhong lilao 眾里老: the masses and community elders

zhong shu 衆庶: mass of commoners zhu li 祝釐: pray for blessings zhusheng 諸生: students zidi 子弟: children/disciples zudou shizhu 俎豆尸祝: make ­offerings and pray zun si 尊祀: honor and worship zuo 作: make zuo zhi zhe 作之者: those who i­ nitiated it

Bibliography

Steles and Other Primary Texts Cited by English Title English titles for the texts below are used in the notes. Full citations for volumes that appear in these references are included in the final section of the bibliography; full references for gazetteers appear in the next section of the bibliography along with a description of conventions for gazetteer citations. The following abbreviations are used to refer to sources from the two compendia, which are cited only in this section of the bibliography. Dean and Zheng Xinghua

Dean and Zheng Quanzhou

Dean, Kenneth, and Zheng Zhenman. Epigraphical Materials on the History of Religion in Fujian, vol. 1: The Xing­ hua Region. Fuzhou: Fujian People’s Press, 1995. Epigraphical Materials on the History of Religion in Fujian, vol. 2: The Quan­ zhou Region. Fuzhou: Fujian People’s Press, 2003.

Anon. “Gone Yet Remembered Stele for County Magistrate Liu [‌Bi‌]” 縣尹 劉公 ‌] [‌碧 去思碑 (1527). In 1609+ BZ Shahe xianzhi 8/32–34 (195–98). ———. “Gone Yet Remembered Stele for Magistrate Mr. Mao [‌Guoxian‌]” 縣尹毛公[‌國賢 去思碑 (ca. 1553). In 1609+ BZ Shahe xianzhi 8/34(2)–38 ‌] (202–8).

304 Bibliography ———. “Record of the Offering Hall to County Magistrate Mr. Ren [‌Huan‌]” 縣尹任公祠堂記 (1548). In 1609+ BZ Shahe xianzhi 8/34–38 (198–202). Cai Ang 蔡昂. “Record of the ‘Forever Relying’ Shrine to [‌Salt-Control Censor‌ ‌] ] Mr. Hong [‌Yuan‌]” 洪公[‌垣 永賴祠記 (ca. 1540). In 1684 NZ ­Xinghua xianzhi 3/914–46. Cai Yuncheng 蔡雲程 (1496–1567; js. 1529). “The Facts of My Late Father’s Actions” 先君行實. In Jiao Hong, Guochao xianzheng lu 92/14a. Cen Wan 岑萬 (Shunde, js. 1526). “Preface to the Collection on the En­ bosoming Virtue Shrine [‌to Tan Kai 談愷 懷惪祠集序 (ca. 1557). In 1731 ‌]” GD Guangdong tongzhi 57/115–17. Chen Lu 陳露. “Prayer Text for the Living Shrine to Mr. Chen [‌Ru‌]” 陳公 [‌] ‌‌儒 生祠祝文 (ca. 1543?). In 1549+1557 SD Wucheng xianzhi 8/55–56. Chen Rang 陳讓 (js. 1532). “Stele for the Premortem Shrine to Nan’an Magistrate Tang [‌Ai‌]” 南安邑侯唐公愛生祠碑 (ca. 1544). Dean and Zheng Quanzhou no. 613. Chen Zao 陳藻. “Gone Yet Remembered Stele Record for Dingxing County ‌] [‌Magistrate‌] Mr. Ren Kai” 定興縣任侯[‌鎧 去思碑記 (1573). In 1890 BZ Dingxing xianzhi 18/32–35. Fan Yan 范言 (Jiaxing, js. 1526). “Stele Record and Poem for the Living Shrine to Prefect Hou [‌Donglai‌]” 郡守侯公[‌東萊 生祠碑記并詩 (ca. ‌] 1564). In 1596 ZJ Xiushui xianzhi 9/4–5. Fei Hong 費宏 (1468–1535). “Epitaph for Kuang Fan” 故中憲大夫瑞州府 知贈江西布政使司左叅政鄺公墓表. In his Taibao Fei Wenxian gong zhaigao 太保費文憲公摘稿 [‌Collected works of Fei Hong‌], 19/36–40. Shanghai: Shanghai guji chubanshe, 2002. ———. ‌] “Record of Mr. Yang [‌Jizong’s‌] Shrine” 楊公[‌繼宗 祠記 (1519–20). In 1596 ZJ Xiushui xianzhi 9/66. Longer version, “Record of Mr. Yang’s Legacy of Love Shrine” 楊公遺愛祠記. In his Taibao Fei Wenxian gong zhaigao [‌Collected works of Fei Hong‌], 8/27–29. Shanghai: Shanghai guji chubanshe, 2002. ———. “Record of the Offering Hall to Mr. Li of Yanping” 延平李先生祠 堂記. In his Taibao Fei Wenxian gong zhaigao [‌Collected works of Fei Hong‌], 8/33–35. Shanghai: Shanghai guji chubanshe, 2002. Feng Su 馮宿 (js. 792). “Stele on the Offering Hall of His Honor Di Renjie” 狄梁公祠堂碑銘. In Gujin tushu jicheng 74/36/1. Feng Yi 馮益. “Record of the Living Shrine to Mr. Yang [‌Hong‌]” 楊公生祠 記 or “Record of the Living Shrine to Commissioner-in-Chief Mr. Yang Wuxiang” 楊都督武襄公生祠記 (1449). In BZ 1712 Longmen xianzhi 14/24–25.



Steles and Other Primary Texts

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Gao Yue 高躍 (Hanzhou, js. 1547). “Gone Yet Remembered Record for ­ ather-and-Mother Cheng [‌Xun‌]” 程[‌遜 父母去思記. In 1630 SX Guang­ ‌] F chang xianzhi, 590–94. Gu Dingchen 顧鼎臣 (1473–1540). “Stele for the Legacy of Love Shrine to ‌] County Magistrate Mr. Wang [‌Jianzhi‌]” 縣尹王公[‌鑑之 遺愛祠碑 (ca. 1528). In 1642 BZ Yuanshi xianzhi 6/553–56. Gu Lin 顧璘 (Shangyuan, 1476–1545). “Record of the Living Shrine to Ying‌]生祠記. tian Prefect Mr. Wang Kuang” 應天尹王公[‌爌 In his Gu Huayu xiyuan cungao wen 顧華玉集息園存稿文 4/13a–15a. Electronic Siku quanshu. Gu Po 顧 珀 (1464–1549, js. 1499). “Record of the Encouraging Loyalty Shrine” 勸忠祠記 (Zhengde period). Dean and Zheng Quanzhou no. 100. Gu Xiancheng 顧憲成 (1550–1612). “Record of the Living Shrine and Eternal Yearning Stele at the City South Academy to Mr. Gong [‌Mian‌] Yisuo” ‌]毅所先生城南書院生祠永思碑 龔[‌勉 記. In his Jinggao cang gao [‌Preserved drafts of Gu Xiancheng‌], 10/17–20. Electronic Siku quanshu. ———. “Record of the Living Shrine to Mr. Cai Xutai [‌X ianchen‌], Right Administrative Vice-Commissioner of the Changzhen Military Defense ‌]生祠記 Circuit” 常鎮道觀察使者虛臺蔡公[‌獻臣 (ca. 1611). In his Jinggao cang gao [‌Preserved drafts of Gu Xiancheng‌], 11/20a–23a. Electronic Siku quanshu. Guo Xi 郭壐. “Record of the New-Built Living Shrine to [‌Former Prefect‌] Mr. Heyang Chen [‌Zu‌]” 新建河陽陳公[‌俎 ‌]生祠記 (Jiajing period). In 1550 BZ Guangping fuzhi 7/6–7. Han Kuang 韓爌 (ca. 1558–1637). “Record of the Virtuous Governance of Mr. ‌]公德政記 Li [‌Xuanyou‌]” 李[‌宣猷 (ca. 1623–25). In 1630 SX Weizhou zhi, 561–68. He Qiaoxin 何喬新 (1427–1502). “Record of the Living Shrine to Mr. Jiang [‌Hao‌], Former Prefect of Jiankang and Salt Distribution Commissioner of ‌]生祠記 Zhejiang” 兩浙都轉運使前建昌太守江侯[‌浩 (ca. 1469). In his Jiaoqiu wenji 椒 邱文集 [‌Collected works of He Qiaoxin‌] 13/17a–20a. Electronic Siku quanshu. He Qiaoyuan 何喬遠 (js. 1586). “Record of the Shrine to County School Instructor Mr. Gong [Shibiao]” 教諭龔[‌士鏢]先生祠記. Dean and Zheng Quanzhou no. 632. ———. ‌] “Record of the Shrine to Wang [‌Renchong‌] Yuxi” 王[‌任重 玉溪 祠記. Dean and Zheng Quanzhou no. 174. ‌]公生 ———. “Stele for the Premortem Shrine to Mr. Ding [‌Qijun‌]” 丁[‌啓濬 祠碑 (ca. 1624–29). Dean and Zheng Quanzhou no. 922.

306 Bibliography Hou Zhenggu 侯正鵠 (Yuncheng, js. 1601). “Prefect Hou Zhenggu’s Gone Yet Remembered Stele Record for County Magistrate Mr. Wang [‌Yuan­y i‌]” 知府侯正鵠為邑侯王公[‌遠宜 去思碑記. 1634 SD Yuncheng xianzhi, ‌] 320–22. Hu Sanxing 胡三省. “Record of Repairs to the Offering Hall to Former Magistrates ‌]修前邑侯祠堂記 [‌by Magistrate Jiang Guifang‌]” [‌姜桂芳 (ca. 1584). In 1609+ BZ Shahe xianzhi, 249–50. Huang Fengxiang 黃鳳翔 (Jinjiang, js. 1568). “Record of Shrine Sacrifice to Prefect Zou” 鄒郡守祠祀記 (1592). Dean and Zheng Quanzhou no. 136. ———. “Record of the Shrine to Chen Zifeng” 陳紫峰祠記 (1577). Dean and Zheng Quanzhou no. 130. Huang Jin 黃金. “Biography of Xue Xiang” 資政大夫工部尚書無爲薛公 ‌]傳. [‌祥 In Zhu Dashao, Huang Ming mingchen muming 58/29–42. Huang Jingfang 黃景昉 (Jinjiang, 1596–1662). “Record of the Building at Changli’s Five-Peak Mountain of the Conjoined Shrine to Han Wengong [‌Han Yu‌] and Living Shrine to Two Officials, the Governor and the ‌]道[‌ ‌]兩 Circuit Intendant” 昌黎五峰山修建韓愈文公祠并撫[‌巡 臺 臺生祠記 (1642). In He Zhili 何志利, Changli Han Yu wenhua shiliao 昌黎韓愈文化史料 [‌Cultural history materials on Han Yu in Changli‌] (Beijing: Zhongguo wenshi, 2014), 113–15, accessed through duxiu.com, May 2016. Huang Shou 黃壽. “Record of the Respect the Worthy Shrine [‌to Prefec‌]崇賢祠記 tural School Instructor Lin Zong‌]” [‌學正林宗 (ca. 1505). In 1529 HG Qizhou zhi 9/45–47. Jia Heng 賈恆. “Gone Yet Remembered Stele for Assistant Magistrate Li Zirong” 三尹李滋榮去思碑. In 1609+ BZ Shahe xianzhi 8/38–41 (208–12). Jiang Jinhe 姜金和 (js. 1550). “Record of Mr. Song [‌Jixian‌]’s Living Shrine” 宋公生祠記 (ca. 1565). In 1575 NZ Hezhou zhi, 625–27. Jiang Long 姜龍 (Taicang, js. 1508). “Record of the Living Shrine to Military Censor ‌]生祠記 Mr. Wang Yi 兵憲王公[‌儀 (ca. 1536). In Qian Gu 錢榖 (1508–ca. 1578), ed., Wudu wen cui xu ji 吳都文粹續集 [‌Supplementary collection of the literary essence of Suzhou‌] 16/20–22. Electronic Siku quanshu. Jiao Hong 焦竑 (1541–1620). “Record of the Living Shrine in Gaoyou Subprefecture to Straight-Pointer Mr. ‘Yunjiao’ Huang [‌Jishi‌]” 直指雲蛟黃 ‌]高郵州生祠記. 公[‌吉士 In his Danyan xuji 澹園續集 [‌Further collection of writings by Jiao Hong‌] 118/438–39. Reprint. Congshu jicheng xubian. Shanghai: Shanghai shudian, 1994?



Steles and Other Primary Texts

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Kang Shijin 康士晉 (jr. 1564). “Record of the Shrine to [‌Hui’an Local Gentry­man‌] Mr. Liu [Hui] Wanghai” 望海劉[會]公祠記 (1611). Dean and Zheng Quanzhou no. 736. Li Biao 李標 (js. 1607). “Gone Yet Remembered Record of the Benevolent Magistrate of Yuan[‌shi‌] Mr. Zhang [‌Shenxue‌] Quzheng” 元仁侯張公[‌慎 學 ‌]趨正去思記 (1642). In 1642 BZ Yuanshi xianzhi 6/675–80. Li Chunfang 李春芳 (1510–84). “Record of the Living Shrine to Mr. Wang [‌‌]生祠記 Sanyu‌]” 王公[‌三餘 (ca. 1580). In 1684 NZ Xinghua xianzhi 3/930. Li Guangjin 李光縉 (jr. 1585). “Record of the Landholdings of the Shrine to ‌]生祠田記 the Living Prefect Jiang [‌Zhili‌]” 郡太守 姜公[‌志禮 (ca. 1604). Dean and Zheng Quanzhou no. 176. ———. “Record of the Shrine to Nan’an County School Instructor Mr. ‌]劍峰先生祠記. Gong [‌Biao‌] Jianfeng” 南安教諭龔[‌鏢 Dean and Zheng Quanzhou no. 631. Li Sicheng 李思誠 (fl. 1626). “Preface for Magistrate Chen [‌Yu‌]’s Promotion to ‌]陞任上元序 Magistrate of Shangyuan” 陳邑侯[‌宇 [‌note, in the original two characters are reversed‌] (ca. 1614). In 1684 NZ Xinghua xianzhi 3/1006–9. Li Zhizao 李之藻 (1565–1630). “Memorial on Offering Ritual at the Eminent Officials and Local Worthies Shrines” 名宦鄉賢祭儀疏. In his Pangong liyue shu 頖宮禮樂疏 [‌Manual on rites and music at county and prefectural schools‌] 9/7–8 (1618). Electronic Siku quanshu. Lin Dachun 林大春 (Chaoyang, 1523–88). “Stele Record for the Rebuilding of the East Mountain Lingwei Temple” 重修東山靈威廟碑記. In 1731 GD Guangdong tongzhi 60/106–10. Liu Chun 劉春 (js. 1487). “Stele for the Shrine to Yuezhou Prefect Mr. Li [‌Jing‌]” 岳州太守李侯[‌鏡 ‌]祠碑 (ca. 1496). In his Dongchuan Liu Wenjian wenji 東川劉文簡公集 [‌Collected works of Liu Chun‌], 19/3–6. Shanghai: Shanghai guji chubanshe, 2002. Also in 1488+JJ HG Yuezhou fuzhi, 180–84. Liu Jie 劉節 (Dayu, 1476–1555, js. 1505). “Record of the Premortem Shrine to Capital Censor Mr. Wang Yangming” 都憲陽明王公生祠記 (ca. 1520). In Gujin tushu jicheng 133/35/1. Liu Ju 劉矩 (Kaizhou, js. 1421). “Hanlin Senior Compiler Liu Ju Takes Up [‌His Brush‌] to Record the Living Shrine to Subprefect in Charge of the Affairs of Neihuang County Mr. Song An” 翰林修撰劉矩撰掌内黃縣事 知州宋公[‌安 ‌]生祠記. In HN 1537 Neihuang xianzhi 9/32. Lu Bi 盧璧 (Jiangning, js. 1538). “Record of the Group of Honorables Soaking Grace Shrine” 羣工惠澤祠記 (1567). In 1593/1597 NZ Shangyuan xian­ zhi 12/75–77.

308 Bibliography Lu Guangzu 陸光祖 (1521–97). “Stele Record of the Living Shrine to Prefect Gong ‌]公生祠碑記 [‌Mian‌]” 郡侯龔[‌勉 (1575). In 1596 ZJ Xiushui xianzhi 9/8–9. Lu Wangfeng 蘆望峯. “Stele for the Living Shrine to Military Vice-­ Commissioner Wang [Dayong]” 王憲副[大用] 生祠碑 (ca. 1525–30). In 1538 GD Zengcheng xianzhi 16/3–5. Luo Risheng 駱日升 (Hui’an, js. 1595). “Record of the Living Shrine to [‌Hui’an Magistrate‌] Mr. Chen [‌Cong‌] on the Restored Jieshi Yongji Bridge” ‌]重修碣石永濟橋生祠記 陳侯[‌淙 (ca. 1615). Dean and Zheng Quanzhou no. 731. Dean and Zheng list the date as 1604, but the record states that Chen Cong arrived in 1613–14. Luo Yuchen 羅虞臣 (Shunde, d. 1537, js. 1529). “Document Charging That the Living Shrine to Mr. Qian Wentong [‌Pu‌] Should be Removed” 告除 錢文通公[‌ ‌]生祠文. 溥 In Huang Zongxi, Ming wenhai 140/15–17. Ma Sen 馬森 (1506–80). “Record of the Living Shrine to Tingzhou Prefectural ‌]生祠記 Judge Mr. Liu [‌Zongyin‌]” 汀郡節推劉侯[‌宗寅 (ca. 1562). In 1752 FJ Tingzhou fuzhi 40/24–27 (458–59). Pei Dong 裴棟. “Record of a Living Shrine to Mr. Ren [‌Yingzheng‌]” 任公 ‌‌[‌應徵]生祠記 (ca. 1602). In 1630 SX Weizhou zhi, 568–76. Qin Gao 秦鎬. “Stele Record of the Living Shrine to Mr. Liu [Rongsi] of Dongyue Circuit, by Runan Cotton-Clad Qin Gao” 汝南布衣秦鎬為東 兗道劉公[榮嗣]生祠碑記 (1630). In 1634 SD Yuncheng xianzhi, 326–27. Ren Huan 任環. “Responsive Feelings in the Shahe Night” 沙夜有感. In 1609+BZ Shahe xianzhi 8/71 (277–78). Sima Guang 司馬光 (1019–86). “Record of the Offering Hall to Han [Qi], Duke of Wei” 北京韓[琦]魏公祠堂記 (1084). In his Wenguo wenzheng Sima gong wenji 溫國文正司馬公文集 [‌Collected writings of Sima Guang‌] 67/1–4. Reprint Shanghai: Shangwu yin­shuguan, 1929. Su Ji’ou 蘓繼歐 (Xuzhou, js. 1613). “Record of Rebuilding the Shrine to ­Requite Virtue” 重修報德祠記 (ca. 1615). In 1642 BZ Yuanshi xianzhi 6/641–44. Tang Jin 唐錦 (Shanghai, 1475–1554). “Gone Yet Remembered Stele for Mr. ‌]侯去思碑. Zheng [‌Luoshu‌]” 鄭[‌洛書 In his Longjiang ji 龍江集 [‌Collected works of Tang Jin‌], 5/1–3 (538–39). Reprint: Shanghai: Shanghai guji, 2002.



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309

Tian Qiu 田秋 (Dejiang, js. 1514). “Record of the Renewed Building of the Living Shrine to Cai Chao” 新建蔡潮生祠記 (1550). In 1555 Guizhou tong­ zhi 12/40b–41b. Tian Rucheng 田汝成 (Qiantang, 1500–1563+, js. 1526). “Essay Praising the Image of Cai Chao in Qingping” 題清平蔡潮像賛 (ca. 1540). In 1555 Guizhou tongzhi, 685–67. Tu Long 屠隆 (1542–1605). “Stele for the Shrine to Ning[‌hai‌] Magistrate ‌]令顏侯[‌ ‌]祠碑 欲章 Mr. Yan [‌Yuzhang‌]” 寧[‌海 (1604). In 1632 ZJ Ninghai xianzhi 10/19–21 (803–8). Wang Chaoxiang 王朝相 (Yongnian, js. 1535). “Record of the Living Shrine ‌]生祠記. to County Magistrate Mr. Zhang Jiuhua” 邑侯九華章公[‌允賢 In 1618+CZ+SZ BZ Cheng’an yi cheng, 526–28. Wang Dao 王道 (Wucheng, 1487–1547, js. 1511). “Record of the Living Shrine ‌]太守陳公[‌ ‌]生祠記 儒 to [‌Dongchang‌] Prefect Mr. Chen [‌Ru‌]” [‌東昌 (ca. 1543). In 1549+1557 SD Wucheng xianzhi 8/37–40. Wang Du 王都. “Record of Mr. Li’s Living Shrine” 李公生祠記 (ca. 1575). In Gujin tushu jicheng 72/49/1. Wang Jianping 王建屏. “Gone Yet Remembered Record for Mr. Chen [‌‌]去思記 Weizhi‌]” 陳侯[‌惟芝 (ca. 1589?). In 1661 SH Luochuan zhi 2/30. Wang Pin 王聘 (js. 1523). “Record for the Praising Loyalty Shrine [‌to Zeng Xian‌]” 嘉忠祠記 (1536–37). In 1537 LD Liaodong zhi 2/35–36. Wang Shenzhong 王慎中 (1509–59). “Record of the Living Shrine to ‌]克齋先生 Former‌] Quzhou Prefect Mr. Li [Sui‌] Kezhai” 衢州守李[‌遂 [‌ 生祠記. In his Zunyan ji 遵巖集 [‌Collected works of Wang Shenzhong‌] 8/23–25. Electronic Siku quanshu. ———. “Record of the Living Shrine to Yongding County Magistrate Mr. Xu ‌]君生祠記. [‌Wenxian‌]” 永定縣知縣許[‌文獻 In his Zunyan ji 遵巖集 [‌Collected works of Wang Shenzhong‌] 8/73–76. Electronic Siku quanshu. Wang Shizhen 王世貞 (1526–90). “Epitaph for Xu Jiusi” 廣東高州府知府 致仕進階中憲大夫東山徐公墓誌銘. In his Yanzhou sibu gao xugao 111/10–21. Electronic Siku quanshu. ———. “Preface to the ‘Living Shrine Record’ for Guidong [‌Former‌] Magistrate Mr. Ma” 桂東令馬君生祠記序. In his Yanzhou sibu gao xugao 52/20b–22a. Electronic Siku quanshu. ———. “Record of the Living Shrine to Great Minister of Successive Reigns and Former Magistrate of Huaiyuan Mr. He [Li] of Xinyang” 朝列大夫 前懷遠令信陽何公[立]生祠記. In his Yanzhou sibu gao xugao 57/19. Electronic Siku quanshu. ———. “Record of the Restoration of the Living Shrine to [‌Former‌] Chang­ ‌]生 xing Magistrate Mr. Huang [‌Guangsheng‌]” 重修長興令黃公[‌光昇

310 Bibliography 祠記 (ca. 1548). In his Yanzhou sibu gao 弇州四部稿 74/12–14. Electronic Siku quanshu. Wang Tingzhan 王廷瞻 (js. 1559). “Record of the Rebuilding of the Shrine to Mr. Wang Simin” 重修王公思旻祠. 1633 NZ Taizhou zhi 8/69–70 (177). Wang Yunfeng 王雲鳳 (1465–1517). “Record of the Living Shrine to Grand Guardian of the Heir Apparent Minister of Personnel Mr. Wang [‌Shu‌]” ‌]生祠記 太子太保吏部尚書王公[‌恕 (1506). In his Bo qu zhai gao 博趣齋 藁 [‌Drafts by Wang Yunfeng‌], 13/76–77 (184–85). Shanghai: Shanghai guji chubanshe, 2002. Wang Zhi 王直 (1379–1462). “Record of the Rebuilding of the Loyal Unto ‌]文 Death Shrine to Mr. Fan [‌a ka Zhongyan‌] Wenzheng” 重修范[‌仲淹 正公忠烈廟記 (1443). In his Yi’an wenji 抑庵文集 [‌Collected works of Wang Zhi‌], 1/36. Shanghai: Shanghai guji chubanshe, 1991. ———. “Tomb Inscription for Shandong Left Provincial Administration Commissioner ‌]墓誌銘. Mr. Wan [‌Guan‌]” 山東左布政使萬公[‌觀 In his Chongbian Wang Wenduan gong wenji 重編王文端公文集 [‌Another set of collected writings by Wang Zhi‌], 33/9–10. 1563; 1973 facsimile reprint. ———. “Tomb Inscription for the Duke of Xiangcheng Mr. Li [‌Long‌]” ‌]墓誌銘 襄城伯李公[‌隆 (probably 1447). In his Chongbian Wang Wen­ duan gong wenji, 33/2b. Wei Kewan 魏克頑. “Stele on the Virtuous Governance of Yuanshi County Magistrate ‌]德政碑 Mr. Zheng [‌Sanjun‌]” 元氏縣令鄭公[‌三俊 (ca. 1602). In 1642 BZ Yuanshi xianzhi 6/43–47 (604–11). Wu Jie 吳節 (Anfu, 1397–1481). “Stele on the Governing Accomplishments ‌]政績碑 of Gu’an Magistrate Mr. Li [‌Duan‌]” 古安縣知縣李公[‌端 (1467). In 1565 BZ Gu’an xianzhi 4/3 and 1632 BZ Gu’an xianzhi 4/3. Wu Yan 伍晏 (Qingliu, jr. 1489). “Record of the Living Shrine to Mr. Tang [‌‌]生祠記 Chun‌]” 唐公[‌淳 (1513). In 1545 FJ Qingliu xianzhi 5/23–26. Xu Gu 許穀 (1504–86). “Stele Record of the Living Shrine to Mr. Fu [‌Pei‌]” 傅[‌ ‌]侯生祠碑記 珮 (ca. 1540). In 1684 NZ Xinghua xianzhi 3/916–20. Xu Jie 徐階 (1503–83). “Record of Fengqiu County’s Rebuilding of the Living Shrine ‌]生祠記. to Mr. Qin [‌Jin‌] Fengshan” 封丘縣重修鳳山秦公[‌金 In his Shijing tangji 世經堂集, 14/33. [‌China‌]: Huating Xu shi, Wanli period. Xu Jin 徐縉 (Wuxian, js. 1505). “Stele Essay on the Rebuilding of Grand Minister ‌]封 Mr. Qin [‌Jin‌]’s Fengqiu Living Shrine” 重建大司徒秦公[‌金 丘生祠碑文. In his Xu Wenmin gong ji 徐文敏公集 [‌Collected works of Xu Jin‌], 5/46. Microfilm. Xu Zhuo 胥焯 (jr. 1525). “Record of the Renovation of Three Shrines” 重修 三祠記 (ca. 1566). In LQ HG Yuezhou fuzhi 18/90–91 (592).



Steles and Other Primary Texts

311

Yang 楊[‌illegible‌]. “Gone Yet Remembered Stele for County Magistrate ‌]去思碑. Yan [‌Zhongde‌]” 縣尹顏公[‌仲德 1609+BZ Shahe xianzhi 8/27–29 (187–88). Yang Bi 楊璧. “Record of the Living Shrines to Shangyuan Magistrate Mr. ‌]生祠記 Dongying Lin [‌Dafu‌]” 上元尹東 瀛 林公[‌大黼 (1580). In 1593/1597 NZ Shangyuan xianzhi 12/85–87. Yang Chuan 楊傳. “Gone Yet Remembered Stele for Magistrate Mr. Fang [‌‌]去思碑. Hao‌]” 縣尹方公[‌豪 1609+ BZ Shahe xianzhi 8/30–32 (191–95). Yang Wei 楊巍 (1517–1608). “Sending Off Assistant Instructor Dong Maoqing to His Post in Gaoping County Where His Grandfather Was Magis‌]大父曾為邑令 trate and Has a Living Shrine” 送董司訓茂卿之任高平[‌縣 有生祠 (1573). In his Cunjia shi gao 存家詩稿 [‌Poem drafts preserved at home‌] 5/16. Electronic Siku quanshu. Yao Hongmou 姚弘謀 (Xiushui, 1531–89). “Stele Record for Magistrate Zhu ‌]生祠碑記 [‌Laiyuan’s‌] Living Shrine” 朱邑侯[‌來遠 (ca. 1584). In 1596 ZJ Xiushui xianzhi 9/16–17. Yao Mian 姚勉. “Record of the Living Shrine to [Former] Xinchang Magistrate Chen [Deng]” 新昌陳令[登]生祠記 (ca. 1250). In 1515 JX Ruizhou ­fuzhi 4/19. Yao Shihua 姚世華 (Xiushui, jr. 1594). “Stele Record of the Rebuilding of the Spirit Shrine for Prefect Fang Chu’an” 重修君侯初庵方公神祠碑記 (ca. 1594?). In 1596 ZJ Xiushui xianzhi 9/6–7. Ye Xiang 葉相 (Jiangdu, js. 1502). “Record of the New-Built Legacy of Love Shrine to Yangzhou Prefect Mr. Jiang [‌Yao‌] 新建揚州太守蔣公 瑤遺愛祠記 (1538). In Jiao Hong, Guochao xian zheng lu, 50/52–54 (111/429–30). Ye Xianggao 葉向高 (Fuqing, 1558–1627). “Record of the Living Shrine to Jiujiang Prefect Mr. Xing” 九江太守邢公生祠記. In 1872 JX Dehua xian­ zhi 50/13b–16a. Yin Shidan 殷士儋 (Licheng, 1522–82, js. 1547). “Record of Building the Shrine ‌]忠節公祠記 to Mr. Xu [‌Kui‌] Loyal Purity” 建許[‌逵 (1561). In 1729/1736 SD Shandong tongzhi 35/19b/50–54. Yuan Zhu 袁株 (fl. 1528–72). “Record of the Living Shrine to Mr. Wang” 王公生祠記. In 1684 NZ Xinghua xianzhi 3/932–34. ———. ‌]祠記 “Record of the Shrine to Mr. Li [‌Dai‌]” 李公[‌戴 (ca. 1572). In 1684 NZ Xinghua xianzhi 3/925–27. Zhan Ruoshui 湛 若水 (1466–1560). “Biography of Leizhou Prefecture VicePrefect Liu ‘Shaoyan’ Bin” 雷州府同知劉肅奄彬傳 (ca. 1535?). In Jiao Hong, Guochao xianzheng lu 100/42.

312 Bibliography ———. “Record of the Living Shrine to Jixi Magistrate Mr. Li [‌Formerly Magistrate of‌] Dongzhou” 績溪縣尹東洲李君生祠記. In his Zhan Gan­ xuan xiansheng wenji 湛甘泉先生文集 [‌Collected works of Zhan Ruo­ shui‌], 14/45–46. 1579; reprint 1580. Zhang Bo 張搏. “Stele Record of Rebuilding the Foundry God’s Temple” 重修冶神廟記 (ca. 1160). In 1609+ BZ Shahe xianzhi 2/59 (249). Zhang Juzheng 張居正 (1525–82). “Letter Replying to Regional Inspector of Suzhou and Songjiang Mr. Zeng Shichu, Speaking of How the Responsibilities of the Regional Inspector and Grand Coordinator Are Not the Same” 答蘇松巡按曾公士楚言撫按職掌不同書. In Huang Zongxi, Ming wenhai 180/23 (2/1797). Zhang Mao 章懋 (1437–1522). “Record of the Newly Built Legacy of Love Shrine of Sui’an County” 繸安縣新建遺愛祠記 (1511). In his Fengshan Zhang xiansheng ji 楓山章先生集 [‌Collected writings of Zhang Mao‌], 300–301. Reprint Shanghai: Shangwu yinshu guan, 1935. Zhang Sheng 張昇 (JX Nancheng, 1442–1517). “Record for the Premortem Shrine ‌]侯生祠記 to Prefect Xie [‌Shiyuan‌]” 太守謝[‌士元 (ca. 1488). In his Zhang Wenxi gong wenji 張文僖公文集 [‌Collected works of Zhang Sheng‌], 6/13–15 (39–593). Reprint Jinan: Qi Lu shushe chubanshe, 1997. Zhang Yingzhong 張應中. “Record of the Sacrificial Fields for the Living Shrine ‌]生祠祭田記 to Mr. Ye [‌X iu‌]” 葉[‌脩 (ca. 1613). In 1614 GD Leizhou fuzhi 11/18. Zhao Minshuo 趙民說. “Stele Record of the Virtuous Governance of ­Yuanshi County Magistrate Mr. Zhang [‌Dujing‌]” 元氏縣令張公[‌篤敬 ‌] 德政碑記 (ca. 1598). In 1642 BZ Yuanshi xianzhi 6/596–604. Zhao Tingrui 趙廷瑞 (1492–1551). “Record of the [‌Revering Merit and‌] ­Admiring Virtue Shrine” [‌崇功 ‌]慕德生祠記 (1545–46). In Gujin tushu jicheng 73/37/2. Zhao Xingbang 趙興邦 (author) and Zhi Sui 智鐩 (replacement). “Stele ­Record of the Virtuous Governing of Mr. Xue [‌Zhen‌]” 薛[‌貞 ‌]公德政 碑記 (1619). In 1642 BZ Yuanshi xianzhi 6/651–54. Zheng Ji 鄭紀 (js. 1460). “Legacy of Love Stele Record for Xinghua Prefect ‌] Mr. Wang [‌Bi‌]” 興化君守王公 [‌弼 遺愛碑記. Dean and Zheng Xinghua no. 110. ———. “Record of the Shrine in Commemoration of the Virtuous Governing ‌]德政祠記 of Magistrate Wang [‌Yi‌] of Xianyou City” 仙邑王令尹[‌彝 (1491). Dean and Zheng Xinghua no. 374. Zhou Hongmo 周洪謨 (1419–91). “Record of the Living Shrine to Former Prefect ‌]生祠記 of Huizhou Mr. Sun [‌Yu‌]” 徽州府前太守孫公[‌遇 (1470). In 1502 NZ Huizhou fuzhi 12/34–35.



Gazetteers Cited

313

Zhuang Yijun 莊一俊 (js. 1525). “Record of the Encouraging Loyalty ‌Shrine” 勸忠祠記 [‌to local Nian Can 粘燦] (Zhengde period). Dean and Zheng Quanzhou no. 101. Zong Chen 宗臣 (1525–60). “Record of the [‌Living‌] Shrine to Mr. Hu [‌Shun‌]公祠記 hua‌]” 胡[‌順華 (1560). In 1684 NZ Xinghua xianzhi 3/920–25.

Gazetteers Cited In general, dates for gazetteers follow Zhu Shijia, Zhongguo difangzhi lianhe mulu 中國地方志聯合目錄 (Beijing: Zhonghua shuju, 1985). If I am sure material was added to what was ostensibly just a reprint, the two dates cited are separated by a plus sign (e.g., 1598+1663); if I am not sure, they are separated with a slash (e.g., 1515/41). A plus sign after a single date means that the gazetteer contains information later than its supposed date of publication. If the gazetteer can be dated only to a reign period, it is given a two-letter code (for instance, HW = Hongwu reign; these codes appear in the list of abbreviations in the front matter). After the comprehensive gazetteers, the list that follows is ­arranged alphabetically by province and within each province. The following abbreviations are used to refer to sources for these gazetteers. BTGJ

CUMcF Erudition

E-SKQS

MDGB

Beijing tushuguan guji zhenben congkan [‌Collectanea of rare book reprints from the Beijing Library‌] 北京圖書館古籍珍本叢刊. Beijing: Shumu wenxian chubanshe, 1988. Columbia University microfilm Beijing Airusheng shuzihua jishu yanjiu zhongxin 北京爱如生数字化技术研究中心. Zhongguo jiben guji ku 中国基本古籍库 [‌Database of Chinese Classic Ancient Books‌]. Web. Wenyuange Siku quanshu dianzibian 文淵閣四庫 全書電子版 [‌Siku Quanshu Wenyuange Digital Edition‌]. Hong Kong: Dizhi wenhua chuban youxian gongsi. Mingdai guben fangzhi xuan 明代孤本方志選 [‌Selected reprints of Ming period unique edition

314 Bibliography

NTGB

RBC

TYG

XXSK

XZDH

ZDJ

ZFC

gazetteers‌]. Beijing: Zhonghua quanguo tushuguan wenxian suowei fuzhi zhongxin, 2000. Nanjing tushuguan guben shanben congkan: Mingdai guben fangzhi zhuanji 南京圖書館孤本善本叢刊 : 明代孤本方志專輯 [‌Nanjing Library unique edition and rare edition collectanea: selected Ming period unique edition gazetteers‌]. Beijing: Xianzhuang shuju, 2003. Riben cang Zhongguo hanjian difangzhi congkan­ xubian 日本藏中國罕見地方志叢刊續编 [‌Further published collection of Chinese hard-to-find local gazetteers preserved in Japan‌]. Beijing: Beijing tushuguan chubanshe, 2003. Tianyige cang Mingdai fangzhi xuankan 天一閣藏明 代方志選刊 [‌Selected reprints of Ming period gazetteers held in the Tianyige (Library in Ningbo)‌]. Shanghai: Shanghai shudian, 1981–82, 1990. Xuxiu siku quanshu 續修四庫全書 [‌The Four Treasuries, continued‌]. Shanghai: Shanghai guji chubanshe, 2002. Zhongguo kexueyuan tushuguan 中國科學院圖 書館, ed. Xijian Zhongguo difangzhi huikan 稀見 中國地方志彙刊 [‌Reprints of rarely seen Chinese gazetteers‌]. Beijing: Zhongguo shudian, 1992. Zhongguo difangzhi jicheng 中國地方志集成 [‌Collected Chinese local gazetteers‌]. Nanjing: Jiangsu chubanshe, 1998–2008. Zhongguo fangzhi congshu 中國方志叢書 [‌Collectanea of Chinese gazetteers‌]. Taipei: Chengwen chubanshe, 1966–85.

Comprehensive Gazetteers 1461+ (Da) Ming yitong zhi (大)明一統志, in E-SKQS 1743 Da Qing yitong zhi 大清一統志, in E-SKQS



Gazetteers Cited

Provincial and Local Gazetteers Beizhili (BZ) 1515+1541 Changyuan xianzhi 長坦縣志, in Erudition 1618+CZ+SZ (1646) Cheng’an yi cheng 成安邑乘, in MDGB CZ Dacheng xianzhi 大城縣志, in MDGB 1890 Dingxing xianzhi 定興縣志, in ZFC 1625 Dong’an xianzhi 東安縣志, in MDGB 1534 Gaocheng xianzhi 藁城縣志, CUMcF 1550 Guangping fuzhi 廣平府志, in TYG 1598+1663 Guangzong xianzhi 廣宗縣志, in MDGB 1565 Gu’an xianzhi 固安縣志, CUMcF 1632 Gu’an xianzhi 固安縣志, CUMcF 1882 Huailai xianzhi 懷來縣志, CUMcF 1735 Jifu tongzhi 畿輔通志, in E-SKQS 1712 Longmen xianzhi 龍門 縣志, CUMcF 1672 Pingxiang xianzhi 平鄉縣志, in RBC 1551 Qinghe xianzhi 清河縣志, University of Michigan microfilm 1581+SZ Qinghe xianzhi 清河縣志, in MDGB 1609 Raoyang xianzhi 饒陽縣志, in MDGB 1609+ Shahe xianzhi 沙河縣志, in RBC 1548 Xiguan zhi 西關志, reprint, Beijing guji chubanshe, 1990 ZD Xuanfu zhenzhi 宣府鎮志, in MDGB 1561 Xuanfu zhenzhi 宣府鎮志, CUMcF 1642 Yuanshi xianzhi 元氏縣志, in MDGB 1549 Zhending fuzhi 真定府志, CUMcF

Fujian (FJ) 1491 Bamin tongzhi 八閩 通志, CUMcF; Erudition 1879 Changting xianzhi 長汀縣志, in ZFC 1684 Fujian tongzhi 福建通志, in BTGJ 1737 Fujian tongzhi 福建通志, in E-SKQS 1502 Jiangle xianzhi 將樂縣志, in TYG 1631 Min shu 閩書, in Erudition 1545 Qingliu xianzhi 清流縣志, in TYG 1612 Quanzhou fuzhi 泉州府志, in TYG 1527 Tingzhou fuzhi 汀州 府志, in Erudition 1752 Tingzhou fuzhi 汀州 府志, in ZDJ

315

316 Bibliography

Guangdong (GD) 1572 Chaoyang xianzhi 潮陽縣志, in TYG 1547 Chaozhou fuzhi 潮州 府志, in XZDH 1826 Dianbai xianzhi 電白縣志, Shanghai Library edition WL Gaozhou fuzhi 高州府志, in Erudition 1731 Guangdong tongzhi 廣東通志, in E-SKQS 1502 Huizhou fuzhi 惠州府志, reprint 1964. Shanghai Library edition 1556 Huizhou fuzhi 惠州府志, Shanghai Library edition 1614 Leizhou fuzhi 雷州府志, in Erudition 1935 Luoding xianzhi 羅定縣志, in ZFC 1835 Nanhai xianzhi 南海縣志, Shanghai Library edition 1688 Xin’an xianzhi 新安縣志, Shanghai Library edition 1552 Xingning xianzhi 興寧 縣志, in TYG; Erudition 1538 Zengcheng xianzhi 增城縣志, in TYG; Erudition

Guangxi (GX) 1733 Guangxi tongzhi 廣西通志, in E-SKQS 1895 Maping xianzhi 馬平縣志, in ZFC

Guizhou (GZ) 1555 Guizhou tongzhi 貴州通志, in TYG 1536 Sinan fuzhi 思南府志, in TYG

Henan (HN) 1529 Dengfeng xinzhi 登封/登豐新志, in NTGB 1774 Henan tongzhi 河南通志, in E-SKQS 1585 Kaifeng fuzhi 開封府志, in Erudition Kaocheng xianzhi huibian 考城縣志汇编, in Lankao jiuzhi huibian 兰考 旧志汇编, 1994 (duxiu.com) 1537 Neihuang xianzhi 内黃縣志, in Erudition TQ (ca. 1612) Wu’an xianzhi 武安縣志, in MDGB 1525 Yangwu xianzhi 陽武縣志, in Erudition

Huguang (HG) 1880 Chongxiu Jingzhou fuzhi 重修荊州府志, in ZFC 1608 Huanggang xianzhi 黃岡縣志, University of Chicago microfilm 1500 Huangzhou fuzhi 黃州府志, in TYG 1733 Huguang tongzhi 湖廣通志, in E-SKQS



Gazetteers Cited

317

1529 Qizhou zhi 蘄州志, in Erudition 1584 Xiangyang fuzhi 襄陽府志, in Erudition 1488+JJ Yuezhou fuzhi 岳州府志, in TYG LQ Yuezhou fuzhi 岳州府志, in TYG

Jiangxi (JX) 1873 Chongren xianzhi 崇仁縣志, Shanghai Library edition 1872 Dehua xianzhi 德化縣志, Shanghai Library edition 1871 Gao’an xianzhi 高安縣志, Shanghai Library edition 1517 Jianchang fuzhi 建昌府志, in TYG 1732 Jiangxi tongzhi 江西通志, in E-SKQS 1673 Nan’an fuzhi 南安府志, in BTGJ 1515 Ruizhou fuzhi 瑞州 府志, in TYG

Liaodong (LD) 1537 Liaodong zhi 遼東志, in XXSK

Nanzhili (NZ) 1595 Baoying xianzhi 寳應縣志, in NTGB ‌‌] 1938 [‌Chizhou Jiuhua shan zhi [‌池州]九華山志, Digital Archive of Chinese Buddhist Temple Gazetteers, http://dev.ddbc.edu.tw/fosizhi/, ­accessed March 2014 ‌]碭山縣志, ‌] 1639 [‌Chongxiu Dangshan xianzhi [‌重修 in MDGB 1575 Hezhou zhi 和州志, in ZFC 1566 Huizhou fuzhi 徽州府志, in TYG 1557 Jiading xianzhi 嘉定縣志, Nanjing Library edition 1736 Jiangnan tongzhi 江南通志, in E-SKQS 1519 Jiangning xianzhi 江寧縣志, in XZDH 1755 Jixi xianzhi 績溪縣志, in ZFC 1538 Kunshan xianzhi 崐山縣志, CUMcF 1534 Nanji zhi 南畿志, in ZFC 1593/1597 Shangyuan xianzhi 上元縣志, CUMcF ‌‌] 1506 [‌Suzhou Gusu zhi [‌蘇州]姑蘇志, in E-SKQS 1548 Taicang zhouzhi 太倉州志, in TYG 1633 Taizhou zhi 泰州 志, reprinted Jinan: Qi Lu shushe chubanshe, 1997, in Siku quanshu cunmu congshu 四庫全書存目叢書 series 1814 Xiaoxian zhi 蕭縣志, in ZFC 1684 Xinghua xianzhi 興化縣志, in ZFC

318 Bibliography 1638 Yaofeng shanzhi 堯峯山志, Digital Archive of Chinese Buddhist ­Temple Gazetteers, http://dev.ddbc.edu.tw/fosizhi/, accessed March 2014 1577+1592 Yingtian fuzhi 應天府志, in XZDH CH/1488 Zhongdu zhi 中都 志, in TYG

Shaanxi (SH) ‌]禮縣志, 1890 [‌Gansu‌] Lixian zhi [‌甘肅 CUMcF 1661 Luochuan zhi 洛川志, Shanghai Library edition 1735 Shaanxi tongzhi 陝西通志, in E-SKQS

Shandong (SD) 1535 Fanxian zhi 范縣志, in Erudition 1884 Guangxu Linqu xianzhi 光緒 臨朐縣志, Columbia University Library 1692 Ji’nan fuzhi 濟南府志, CUMcF 1935 Linqu xuzhi 臨朐續志, in ZFC 1533 Shandong tongzhi 山東通志, in TYG 1729/1736 Shandong tongzhi 山東通志, in E-SKQS 1608+1717 Wenshang xianzhi 汶上縣志, in Erudition 1549+1557 Wucheng xianzhi 武城縣志, in Erudition 1634 Yuncheng xianzhi 鄆城縣志, in MDGB

Shanxi (SX) 1658 Gaoping xianzhi 高平縣志, in Qingdai guben fangzhi xuan 淸代孤本 方志選 [‌Selection of Qing period unique edition gazetteers‌] (Beijing: Xianzhuang shuju, 2001) 1630 Guangchang xianzhi 廣昌縣志, in MDGB 1735 Shanxi tongzhi 山西通志, in E-SKQS 1630+ Weizhou zhi 蔚州志, in RBC

Yunnan (YN) 1625 Dian zhi 滇志, in XXSK 1510 Yunnan zhi 雲南志, in TYG

Zhejiang (ZJ) 1586+1650 Chongxiu Shouchang xianzhi 重修壽昌縣志, in MDGB 1549 Jiaxing fu tuzhi 嘉興府圖志, CUMcF 1672 Jiaxing fuzhi 嘉興府志, in XZDH



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Index

Page numbers for figures and tables are in italics. agriculture and sericulture, 67, 81n75, 82, 83, 165, 171, 179, 195n57. See also livelihood ancestors, 2, 12, 21n77, 34, 37, 38, 93, 104, 160, 295 animals: dragons, 84; in shrines, 32, 38, 63; tigers, 84 anthropolatry, 10 antiquity of shrines as institution, 3, 53, 145, 158, 200, 243 approval of shrines by the state, 4, 45–46, 50–53, 61, 99, 114–15, 121, 123, 133, 135, 145–46, 154–55, 174, 289. See also laws about shrines arches. See honors, local architecture and location of shrines, 3, 18, 30, 33, 34, 38n37, 42, 60, 63, 72, 74, 78, 79, 90, 92, 95, 110, 113, 145, 227–28, 235–36, 238, 239, 241, 244, 250, 254, 256, 260, 267n76, 273n8 attendants, shrine, 33, 36, 52 authors of shrine records. See under shrine records

bandits, desperate local commoners as, 83, 230n52, 232. See also defense bao (recompense), 6, 21, 34, 45, 63, 86 Bao Ergeng 包爾庚 (NZ Shanghai, js. 1637), 43, 77 benefits of shrines: to authors of shrine records, 218–20; to enshrinees, 76n43, 93–96, 100, 105, 121–22, 125–37, 209, 216–18, 230– 31, 294; to families of enshriners/ enshrinees, 246–49; to gentry, 120, 209, 218–20, 246–49, 256–61, 265–68; to the people, 114, 122, 125–43, 194; to the state, 121, 294. See also flattery books celebrating shrines, 30, 133– 34, 236, 249–52 bowing, kowtowing, etc., 4, 39, 106. See also under ritual, departure Brashier, Ken, 101 Brook, Timothy, 21, 237n8 Brown, Miranda, 173

344 index Buddhism, 10, 33, 36, 37, 45n62, 55, 70, 71, 88, 89, 92, 101n58, 153n10, 158, 181, 185, 230n52, 246, 273 building. For the noun, e.g., “shrine buildings,” see architecture and location of shrines. For the verb, e.g., “building shrines,” see construction work for shrines; funding of shrines cadaster. See land registration Cai Chao 蔡潮 (ZJ Linhai, js. 1505), 52n93, 144–45, 279 Cai Xi 蔡錫 (ZJ Yinxian, jr. 1423), 95 Cai Xianchen 蔡獻臣 (FJ Tongan, js. 1589), 161–63 Carlitz, Katherine, 61 center and locality, differing interests of. See locality and center, differing interests of Changes, Book of, 199 charity and charitable associations, 15, 65, 67, 171, 204 chastity, 11, 114 Chavannes, Edouard, 268n77 Chen Cong 陳淙 (ZJ Hui’ji, jr. 1611), 167 Chen Fei 陳棐 (HN Yanling, js. 1535), 158 Chen Hongmou 陳弘謀 (GX Lingui, js. 1723), 14, 133n49 Chen Longzheng 陳龍正 (ZJ Jia­ shan, 1585–1645), 127 Chen Qian 陳遷 (FJ Xianyou, js. 1464), 254 Chen Qiyu 陳其愚 (HG Qizhou, jr. 1546), 140 Chen Ru 陳儒 (Jinyi wei, 1488–1561, js. 1523), 100–101, 104, 152

Chen Tianxiang 陳天祥 (1230–1316), 1, 3, 272 Chen Weizhi 陳惟芝 (HN Mengjin, js. 1580), 37n30, 127n17 Chen Wenyi, 51 Chen Xianzhang 陳獻章 (GD Xinhui, 1428–1500), 243 Chen Xuan 陳瑄 (NZ Hefei, 1365– 1433), 77 Chen Youxue 陳幼學 (Yuntang 筠‌塘) (NZ Wuxi, js. 1589), 44n56 Chen Yuwang 陳于王 (ZJ Jiashan, js. 1586), 127 Chen Zu 陳俎 (HN Fengqiu, js. 1532), 152 Cheng Dachang 程大昌 (1123–95), 99 Cheng Jie 程㸅 (JX Nancheng, 1489–1564), 102 Chengnan Academy, 7 Chŏng Yag-yong, 10n35 Chongzhen emperor, 5 Chow, Kai-wing, 15, 148, 175, 195 Christianity, 24, 35–36, 37, 104, 129, 231. See also Ricci, Matteo City God. See under spirits civil service examination system, 11, 15, 23, 69–70, 71, 84, 126–27, 146, 169n49, 172, 177, 179, 200, 209, 216n5, 217, 247, 281 Classics, use of in shrine discourse, 57–58 clerks, 69, 127, 131, 138, 139–40, 253, 265, 281 community compact, 43, 72, 180, 185, 279 community libation ceremony, 139 Confucianism, 9, 10, 12–13, 24, 70, 86, 90, 95, 100, 104, 125, 161, 223, 272 Confucius, 216–17, 262–63; allusion to, in shrine records, 168n48;

index 345 wor­ship of, 2, 3, 24, 35n20, 89, 168, 243, 246 construction work for shrines, 152, 154, 182, 254, 257–58 contradictions in premortem enshrinement, 10, 18, 149, 194–204, 235–70, 290–94 correlative cosmology. See ganying corruption, 48, 69, 80, 83, 129, 131, 132–34, 139–40, 141–43, 161, 174, 196, 201, 265 corvée, 73, 78, 81, 83, 135, 169, 171, 191, 207, 221–22, 226, 232, 240, 253, 268 cosmology. See ganying criteria for enshrinement, 54–55, 63, 71–85, 113–14, 121, 151, 159, 164, 167, 168, 171, 174–75, 179, 191, 194– 95, 200, 223, 262–63. See also laws about shrines; see also specific ­criteria/reasons such as defense; disasters; justice; livelihood; public works; refusal; transformation, of people Dai Deru 戴德孺 (ZJ Linhai, js. 1505), 51n86 Dai Jing 戴經 (ZJ Xiushui, jr. 1486), 198 Dai Zhi’er 戴之二 (HN Gushi, fl. 1602), 62–63 Daoism, 10, 33, 36, 45, 55, 70, 71, 92, 93, 158, 230n52, 273, 276 Dardess, John W., 167, 272 Dean, Kenneth, 279 defense, 8, 34, 43n49, 44, 46, 65, 71, 72, 75–76, 77, 78, 84, 97, 109, 110, 111, 119, 121, 130, 132, 144, 164, 194, 195, 218, 225, 245, 271, 282n46 deities. See spirits Dennis, Joseph, 128n28, 283

departure ritual. See under ritual Des Forges, Roger V., 15 despotism, Ming, 287 destruction of shrines, 5n15, 51, 143, 148, 150, 151, 158, 159–60, 173, 198, 248, 261, 262. See also failure of shrines Di Renjie 狄仁傑 (630–700), 36n23, 59, 105, 159–60, 173, 253 dichotomies falsified by premortem shrines, 10, 290–94 Dictionary of Ming Biography, as source, 5–6 Ding Bin 丁賓 (ZJ Jiashan, 1541– 1631), 65–67 Ding Gui 丁貴 (NZ Jintan, fl. Zhengtong period), 82 Ding Qijun 丁啓濬 (FJ Dehua, js. 1592), 8 Ding Yi, 134 Ding Yuanjian 丁元薦 (ZJ Chang­ xing, js. 1586), 44n56 disasters, 8, 65, 72, 73, 78, 81–82, 84, 93, 106–7, 111, 127, 131, 134, 138, 152, 167, 196, 230, 232, 245, 247, 248, 260, 280–81 disobedience, 122n5; legitimation of by shrine discourse, 288–89 ditties, 130–31, 179, 186–87, 196, 203, 232n58, 276–78 Dong Qichang 董其昌 (NZ Hua­ ting, 1555–1636), 246 Dong Wencai 董文寀 (SX Linfen, js. 1559), 80 Donglin movement, 4–9, 18, 24, 65, 82, 120, 130, 140, 142, 148, 151, 153, 161–68, 169n49, 172, 175, 204, 252, 256–61, 268–70, 274, 291, 294 drunkenness caused by offering to enshrinee, 26

346 index Du Min 杜旻 (SD Binzhou, fl. 1610s), 222, 225 Du Qiming 杜齊名 (HN Nanzhao, fl. 1615), 128 Earth (deity). See under spirits education. See civil service examination system; jiangxue (public lecture–study); schools and education; self-cultivation efficacy (ling), 10, 89, 90–91, 97, 101, 105–8, 110–12, 114–15, 232, 267n76, 279–80, 288, 290, 293. See also miracles; prayer and offerings elders, 39–41, 48, 49, 74, 76, 78, 107, 140, 161, 184–85, 196, 241, 242, 247, 252, 257, 263, 265, 267, 268, 274 emotion, 17–18 emperor: criticism of and disagreement with, 138n65, 142, 189–90; duties of, 1–2, 74, 233, 272; as “father and mother of the people,” 2, 11–12; parallels between resident administrators and, 271–86, 289; quoted/mentioned in shrine ­records, 187–88, 196–97, 267. See also parental metaphor; policymaking process; sovereignty, ­emperor. See also names of indi­ vidual emperors England, 178n11 environmental damage caused by shrines, 3–4 eunuchs, 6, 18, 24, 41, 67, 76, 131– 32, 134, 196, 237, 249–52, 262, 263, 282, 294. See also Wei Zhongxian failure of shrines, 42–44, 149, 157– 60, 163–65, 173, 246, 292. See also destruction of shrines

family: enshrinement by, 244–45, 267; of enshriners and enshrinees, 246–49 famine. See disasters Fan Ji 範箕 (BZ Daxing, js. 1523), 34 Fan Jizu 樊繼祖 (SD Yuncheng, js. 1511), 237, 240 Fan Yan 范言 (ZJ Jiaxing, js. 1526), 197, 199–200 Fan Zhongyan 范仲淹 (989–1052), 62n127 Fang, Chaoying, 252 Fang Hao 方豪 (ZJ Chuzhou, js. 1508), 209, 216–18, 222, 225, 229n50, 233 Fang Keqin 方克勤 (ZJ Ninghai, 1326–76), 232n58, 280 Fang Yingzhi, 129 Farr, James, 149, 274n11 Fei Hong 費宏 (JX Qianshan, 1468– 1535, js. 1487), 197, 251 Fei, Si-yen, 66 Feng Weine 馮惟訥 (SD Linqu, js. 1538), 80 Feng Yingjing 馮應京 (NZ Xuyi, js. 1592, d. 1607), 132 fengshui, 254, 273. See also architecture and location of shrines feudalism, 53, 273–74 filiality, 49, 73, 86, 100n52, 185, 243, 248–49, 288 Five Bad Characteristics, 262–63 flattery, 10n35, 12, 17, 18–20, 49, 50, 71, 120, 129, 135–37, 155–57, 159, 164, 174, 184n28, 209, 220, 247, 263, 288. See also under benefits of shrines, to gentry food, 77. See also disasters Foucault, Michel, 122n5 friends, enshrinement by, 241

index 347 frugality, 78–80, 81 Fu Shangbi 傅商弼 (HN Songxian, js. 1586), 72 funding of shrines, 3, 18, 38–42, 61, 63, 92, 103, 152, 154, 162, 180– 82, 203, 208, 238, 245, 246, 264, 266n72 Gan Lin 甘霖 (NZ Kunshan, fl. 1435), 82n80 Gantang tree, 53, 72–73, 107n81, 135, 145, 154, 159, 164, 192, 208–9 ganying (cosmological movement and response), 9–10, 26, 70, 84– 85, 153, 157–58, 187n41, 202n78 Gao Guang 高光 (SC Emei, fl. 1534), 81 Gao Kui 高魁 (HN Xinzheng, jr. 1486), 175 Gao Song, 97 gazetteers: political speech in, 203–4, 283–84, 285; purposes of, 128n28, 208; as sources, 20, 23, 45–47, 62n124 Geertz, Clifford, 112n93 Geng Dingxiang 耿定向 (HG Macheng, 1524–96), 61, 242 gentry, 9, 14, 15, 17, 21. See also public opinion girls, infanticide of, 73, 195 Gone Yet Remembered steles, 145, 188, 209 gong (meaning “Lord,” “Mr.,” “public”), significance of, 32 Gong Mian 龔勉 (NZ Wuxi, 1536– 1607), 7, 88, 268–69 Goossaert, Vincent, 70, 232 Grand Canal, 77 gratitude, 221–23, 233 “Great Learning,” 74 Greenbaum, Jamie, 21

Gu Cheng 顧成 (NZ Jiangdu, 1330– 1414), 7n20 Gu Dingchen 顧鼎臣 (NZ Kunshan, 1473–1540), 45n61, 120, 256 Gu Po 顧珀 (FJ Jinjiang, 1464–1549), 267 Gu Xiancheng 顧憲成 (NZ Wuxi, 1550–1612), 7, 33n9, 161–63, 268–70 Gu Yanwu 顧炎武 (NZ Kunshan, 1613–82), 18, 51, 151, 172–73, 202, 267, 288 Guanyin. See under spirits Gui Youguang 歸有光 (NZ Kunshan, 1507–71), 194 Guo Lin 郭鄰 (SH Minzhou wei, fl. 1578–82), 134 Guo Ying 郭英 (NZ Haozhou, 1385– 1403), 6n16 Guo Zizhang 郭子章 (JX Taihe, 1542–1618), 61, 78n57, 127, 134, 203 Hai Rui 海瑞 (GD Qiongshan, 1514– 87), 6n16, 125, 129, 246 Han Bangqi 韓邦奇 (SH Chaoyi, 1479–1555), 248–49 Han Kuang 韓爌 (SX Puzhou, ca. 1558–1637), 7, 130, 138, 153–55 Han Shi 韓士 (SX Ruicheng, fl. 1576), 216, 227 Han Wan 韓琬 (b. 1265), 248 Han Yong 韓雍 (BZ Wanping, 1422– 78), 132 Han Yu 韓愈 (768–824), 36n23, 293 Hanlin Academy, 139, 170 Hansen, Valerie, 89–90, 102, 113 Hao Jiong 郝綗 (SD Qihe, js. 1637), 111–25, 280 He Cen 何岑 (HN Fugou, jr. 1558), 248 He Cheng 何誠 (FJ Xinghua, government student 1436), 87

348 index He Dongru 何棟如 (NZ Wuxi, js. 1598), 133n48 He Qiaonian 何喬年 (JX Guang­ chang, fl. ca. 1440), 108 He Qiaoxin 何喬新 (JX Guang­ chang, 1427–1503), 106–7 He Qiaoyuan 何喬遠 (FJ Jinjiang, js. 1586), 107n81, 265 health care, 72, 78 Heaven (deity). See under spirits; see also Mandate of Heaven Hershatter, Gail, 179 Ho Shu-yi, 23, 43, 51n89, 92, 128, 177, 195–96, 201 Hongwu emperor (Zhu Yuanzhang; Ming Taizu), 16, 23, 35n20, 59–60, 82n80, 85, 97, 133n48, 177, 184 Hongzhi emperor, 24 honors, local, 11–12, 18 Hou Junzhuo 侯君擢 (BZ Cheng’an, jr. 1642), 46 Hou Tang 侯鏜 (SD Yuncheng, 1465– 91), 256 Hou Zhenggu 侯正鵠 (SD Yun­ cheng, js. 1601), 171 Hou Ziqiang 侯自強 (SD Yuncheng, fl. 1630), 185 Hsia, Ronald, 129 Hsiao Kung-ch’üan, 135 Hu Sanxing 胡三省 (BZ Shahe, js. 1583), 220, 224, 225n33, 229, 231 Hu Shi, 103 Hu Shunhua 胡順華 (HG Wuling, js 1556), 75n43, 110–11 Hu Zongxian 胡宗憲 (NZ Jixi, 1511– 65), 6n16, 44n56, 51n86, 75 Hua Jin 華津 (NZ Wuxi, 1459–1519), 237, 240 Huang Degong 黃德功 (NZ Liuhe, d. 1644), 7n20

Huang Fengxiang 黃鳳翔 (FJ Jin­ jiang, 1539–1614), 186, 188n47 Huang Guangsheng 黃光昇 (FJ Jinjiang, js. 1529), 241 Huang Shou 黃壽 (fl. Chenghua ­period), 246 Huang Shouzhi 黃守志 (SD Yuncheng, fl. 1630), 185 Huang Yu 黃瑜 (GD Xiangshan, jr. 1456), 72 Huang Yuntai 黃運泰 (HN Yong­ cheng, js. 1589), 4 Huang Yuxuan 黃愈宣 (JX Guangchang, fl. 1469), 107 Huang Zhengjun 黃徵君 (SD Yuncheng, fl. 1609), 184n35 Huang Zongxi 黃宗羲 (ZJ Yuyao, 1610–95), 92–93, 142, 202, 261 Huang Zuo 黃佐 (GD Xiangshan, 1490–1566), 72 Hucker, Charles O., 16, 261 Hung, Ho-fung, 138 Hymes, Robert, 93, 101, 109n86 identity, “Chinese,” 12–13 images, 1, 3–5, 10n37, 24, 30, 32–39, 42, 57, 63, 67, 72, 76, 80, 88, 89, 90, 93, 95, 96, 100, 101n58, 104–9, 110– 12, 119, 124, 125, 131, 133, 144, 145, 148, 150, 154, 156, 157, 159–62, 168, 172, 173, 177, 190, 192, 195, 207, 227– 29, 231, 232, 238, 241–45, 251–55, 293. See also tablets, memorial impeachment, 4–5, 16, 23, 130, 131, 132, 134, 196, 241n15, 242n16, 248, 252, 262 imprisonment. See justice improper shrines and worship, 51n89, 158, 168, 195n57, 198, 200, 252, 261–65, 267n76, 281, 292, 294

index 349 incumbents: criticism of, 254–55; enshrinement of, 48–50, 135, 155, 157, 158–59, 164, 165, 229n50, 291; exclusion of, from enshrinement decisions, 258 infanticide, 73, 195 influencing future officials via shrines, 122–25, 142, 162, 192, 199, 221, 224–25, 228–29, 255, 256, 266, 281, 288 Jesuits. See Christianity; Ricci, Matteo Ji Su 紀肅 (SX, jr. Hongwu period), 37 Ji Zixiu 姬自修 (HN Taikang, fl. 1588), 208 Jia Chaohuan 賈朝宦 (SX Zhenxi wei, jr. 1584), 84 Jiajing emperor, 24, 35n20, 51, 61, 138n65, 275n18; southern tour, 81, 203 Jiang Cong 蔣琮 (BZ Daxing, fl. Chenghua period–1490), 252 Jiang Guifang 姜桂芳 (SD Jining, jr. 1573), 218n8, 227, 229 Jiang Hao 江浩 (NZ Shexian, jr. 1435), 106–8 Jiang Jinhe 姜金和 (JX Poyang, js. 1550), 139 Jiang Yao 蔣瑤 (ZJ Gui’an, 1469– 1557), 131–32 Jiang, Yonglin, 127, 272 jiangxue (public lecture–study), 8, 52n91, 76 Jiao Hong 焦竑 (NZ Qishou wei, 1540–1620), 48, 242 Jiao Yuanpu 焦源溥 (FJ Hu’an, fl. 1614), 219, 222 Jingtai emperor, 263

judicial continuum (in earth and underworld). See under spirits, hierarchy of justice, 6n19, 48, 71–73, 77, 83, 84, 91, 97, 98n45, 102, 107, 111, 121, 138, 173n58, 191, 195, 196, 216, 230n52, 233; for officials, 48, 130, 132–34, 148, 196, 226, 246, 281–82 karma, 10, 247, 288 Katō Genchi, 10, 291 Katz, Paul, 98, 107n82 Kline, Kevin Delaney, 11 Kong Yong 孔鏞 (NZ Changzhou, 1417–89), 271 kowtowing. See bowing and kowtowing Kuang Fan 鄺璠 (BZ Renqiu, 1458– 1521), 195 land registration, 65, 83, 196, 248 language, 69n16 Laozi, worship of, 89 laws about shrines, 47–55 lawsuits. See justice Lean, Eugenia, 174n60 Lee, Pauline, 57–58 Legacy of Love, 33, 36n25, 52, 61, 62n126, 72–73, 80, 145, 177, 189– 93, 195, 197, 248, 260 legitimacy, political, 120–21, 174n60, 179, 189–94, 277, 283, 291 Lei Jigu 雷稽古 (SD Enxian, js. 1559), 102 Li Bangzhen 李邦直 (GD Maoming, js. 1523), 90, 141 Li Biao 李標 (BZ Gaoyi, js. 1607), 8, 163–65, 185–86 Li Boyuan, 5n15

350 index Li Chunfang 李春芳 (NZ Xinghua, 1510–84), 170 Li Dai 李戴 (HN Yanjin, ca. 1531– 1607), 280–81 Li Duan 李端 (HG Xingning, js. 1457), 281–82 Li Gong 李珙 (FJ Nan’an, government student, fl. 1436–54), 73 Li Guangjin 李光縉 (FJ Quanzhou, jr. 1585), 243 Li Huaixin 李懷信 (SX Datong, fl. Wanli period), 7n20 Li Jing 李鏡 (JX Geyang, 1437–98, js. 1469), 62n126, 114, 189 Li Sancai 李三才 (SH, Lintong, js. 1574, d.1623), 175 Li Shangbin 李尚賔 (BZ Guangzong, js. 1568), 84n92 Li Shoujun 李守俊 (NZ Yixing, js. 1601), 8 Li Sicheng 李思成 (NZ Xinghua, js. 1598), 36n24 Li Sui 李遂 (Kezhai 克齋) (JX Fengcheng, 1504–66, js. 1526), 52n91 Li Xuanyou 李宣猷 (SH Linyi, js. 1615), 99, 153–55 Li Yangong 李言恭 (NZ Xuyi, fl. Wanli period), 127–28 Li Zi 李鼒 (NZ Shanyang, fl. Yongle period), 81 Li Zicheng 李自成 (SH Mizhi, 1606– 45), 46 Li Zihua 李自華 (NZ Gaoyou, jr. 1597), 49 Li Zirong 李滋榮 (BZ Ningjin, fl. 1335), 216n5, 224 Li Zongyan 李宗延 (HN Runing, js. 1592), 8–9, 72, 78, 183–84 Liebman, Benjamin, 193–94

Lin Dafu 林大黼 (FJ Putian, jr. 1552), 52, 80, 102 Lin Jun 林俊 (FJ Putian, 1452–1527), 76, 246 Lin Pei 林培 (GD Dongguan, 1547– 99), 97 Lin Zhao’en 林兆恩 (FJ Putian, 1517–98), 5n14 Lin Zong 林宗 (FJ Putian, 1452– 1527), 246 literacy, 15, 81n75, 102, 235 literary achievements, as reason for enshrinement, 217n7 Liu Bin 劉彬 (JX Yongfeng, js. 1478), 119–20, 280 Liu Chun 劉春 (SC Baxian, 1460– 1521), 189 Liu Congren 劉從仁 (SX Xiezhou, fl. 1579), 257 Liu Jie 劉節 (JX Dayu, 1476–1555), 76 Liu Jin 劉瑾 (SX Xingping, d. 1510), 76, 249 Liu Jing 劉璟 (fl. 1514), 249–52 Liu Jingshao 劉景韶 (HN Chongxi, js. 1544), 75n43, 97 Liu Jiwen 劉繼文 (Jiezhai 節齋) (NZ Lingbi, js. 1562), 129 Liu Kui 劉魁 (JX Taihe, ca. 1489– 1552), 61 Liu Que 劉慤 (JX Wan’an, js. 1544), 110n88 Liu Rongsi 劉榮嗣 (BZ Quzhou, js. 1616), 240–41 Liu Tianhe 劉天和 (HG Macheng, 1479–1545), 98, 282–83 Liu Xiqi 劉希契 (SD Wucheng, fl. 1545), 152 Liu Yan 劉琰 (NZ Xuancheng, government student 1523), 78

index 351 Liu Ying 柳瑛 (NZ Linhuai, js. 1457), 105 Liu Yu 劉玉 (JX Wan’an, js. 1496, d. ca. 1567), 110n88 Liu Zongyin 劉宗寅 (JX Wan’an, jr. 1543), 109 livelihood, 71, 73, 77, 78, 81–82, 83, 121, 139, 164–65, 175, 194, 195, 216, 232, 284, 287, 290 local history, 146 locality and center, differing interests of, 51, 75, 81, 83, 137, 139, 143–44, 162, 189–90, 208, 221–24, 269, 275, 284 location of enshrinee or his spirit. See presence location of shrines. See architecture longevity of shrines, 38–43. See also failure of shrines Lou Liang 婁諒 (JX Shangrao, jr. 1453), 252 Lou Xing 婁性 (JX Shangrao, js. 1481), 252 Lu Bi 盧璧 (NZ Xuyi, js. 1538), 33n8, 36n27, 135 Lu Guangzu 陸光祖 (ZJ Pinghu, 1521–97), 88 Lu Jiujing 盧九經 (FJ Yongding, fl. 1555), 92 Lü Kun 呂坤 (HN Ningling, 1536– 1618), 14, 148 Lü Weiqi 呂維祺 (HN Xin’an, 1587– 1641), 8 Lu Xin 陸辛 (NZ Shangyuan, fl. 1567), 136n58 Lu Zhongtian 盧仲佃 (ZJ Dongyang, js. 1556), 75n43 Luan Bu 欒布 (Han period), 158 Lufrano, Richard, 178, 237n8 Luo Risheng 駱日升 (FJ Hui’an, js. 1595), 167–68

Luo Yuchen 羅虞臣 (GD Shunde, js. 1529), 262 Ma Jinglun 馬經綸 (BZ Tongzhou, js. 1589), 182n18 Ma Sen 馬森 (FJ Huai’an wei, 1506– 80), 109 Ma Siqi 馬思齊 (NZ Hezhou, jr. 1558), 139 Mandate of Heaven (tian ming), 1– 2, 146, 166, 192, 232–33. See also Minor Mandate Mao Deng 毛澄 (NZ Kunshan, 1461–1523), 249 Mao Guoxian 毛國賢 (ZJ Yinxin, jr. 1528), 218, 227, 231 Mao Kun 茅坤 (ZJ Gui’an, 1512– 1601), 99n50, 127 Mao Qiling 毛奇齡 (ZJ Xiaoshan, 1623–1716), 45n64 Mao Zedong, 96, 202n78 Marmé, Michael, 178 marriage, 73 mass line, 202n78 May Fourth movement, 12 Mencius, 160, 171n52, 216–17, 222 Menegon, Eugenio, 36n23 methodology, 22–23, 44–47, 185, 248, 261, 290 military: commanders as enshrinees, 5n14, 6–7, 11n43, 75, 98, 161; as shrine sponsors, 33–34, 181, 184, 236 Miller, Harry, 9, 65, 175 Ming History, 5, 20, 44–45 Minor Mandate, 271–86, 289 miracles, 10, 26, 57, 89–90, 96, 120, 195, 232, 294 moral education. See under transformation, of people

352 index mother and father metaphor. See­ parental metaphor Mueggler, Erik, 63 music. See ditties; see also under ­ritual, music in Naquin, Susan, 30n2 nationwide effects of shrines, 131–34, 142, 282, 288 Neskar, Ellen, 53–54, 100, 104 Ni Yuanlu 倪元璐 (ZJ Shangyu, 1596–1644), 274 Nian Can 粘燦 (FJ Jinjiang, jr. 1501), 267 Nimick, Thomas G., 70, 77, 178, 232, 248n37 Ning, Prince of, 130 Nivison, David, 98 objections to shrines, 12, 13, 48, 50, 53–59, 95n23, 137, 143–46, 261–65. See also improper shrines and worship Odes, Book of, 53, 74, 130, 145n82, 162, 192, 208, 229, 257, 276n22 omens, 20, 97, 271, 276–77 Osabe Kazuo, 13, 71, 146, 161 Ouyang Dongfeng 歐陽東鳳 (HG Qianjiang, js. 1589), 8, 43 Oviedo, Lluis, 21 Pan Ruzhen 潘汝禎 (NZ Tong­ cheng, js. 1601), 166 Pan Zhaoming 潘昭明 (BZ Xiguan), 185 Pang Shangpeng 龐尚鵬 (GD Nanhai, ca.1524–ca.1581), 6n16 parentalism, 85–87, 119, 149, 265, 281– 82; contrasted with paternalism, 85 parental metaphor, 1, 2, 11–12, 37, 74, 125–26, 140, 154, 156, 160–61, 173–

74, 191–92, 194, 197, 223, 225n33, 242, 255, 271, 274–75, 284, 287; with emphasis on “father,” 230; with emphasis on “mother,” 225; emperor as “grandfather,” 274–75. See also shepherd metaphor paternalism, 74–75, 85–86, 265; contrasted with parentalism, 85 Pei Dong 裴棟 (SX Weizhou, js. 1601), 37n28, 187–88 Peng Ze 彭澤 (SH Lanzhou, js. 1490, d. 1532), 34n16 Peony Pavilion, 12 personating, 37, 93 petition: right to, 16, 177–78 petition: for shrines. See ­approval of shrines by the state; sponsors of shrines pharmacies. See health care pirates. See defense Placard of the People’s Instructions, 156 policy-making process, 16–17, 23–24 political speech, right to, 13–18, 177– 79, 186, 189–94, 202–4, 221–23, 234, 255, 290; songs as. See also ditties; public opinion Poo, Mu-chou, 109 populism, 15, 133n49, 148, 151, 163– 67, 175, 290; in 21st c. PRC, 193–94 portraits. See images Portugal, 24 poverty, 81, 207n1. See also bandits, desperate local commoners as power, definitions, 122n5 Powers, Martin, 277 prayer and offerings, 89, 95: by enshrinees or officials, 41, 72, 73, 82, 84, 97, 232, 247n34, 260, 278–81, 293; to enshrinee, 6n16, 10, 26, 34, 43, 45, 49, 54–55, 61, 63, 93–96,

index 353 99–101, 103–8, 160–61, 231, 236, 293; to Heaven by officials other than emperor, 280–81; to official at yamen, 113n96; prescribed, 104; for retention of official, 87; and social class, 103–4, 107–8. See also benefits of shrines; efficacy premortem and postmortem shrines, comparisons, 10, 30, 33, 36, 38, 44– 47, 52–53, 59–63, 91–94, 186, 253, 288 presence of enshrinee (or his spirit) at shrine, 108–10, 199, 231–32, 292–93 print culture, 15 prisons. See justice private (si) shrines, 11, 42, 51n89, 146, 266–67 protest, 131–34, 137–40, 147 public opinion, 13–18, 66, 75, 85–86, 87, 141, 143–46, 156, 160, 166, 170– 72, 173n58, 174, 177–78, 198, 201–2, 221, 253, 258–60, 263–65, 274, 275, 283, 285, 287–88, 291. See also political speech, right to; see under ritual, departure public works, 41, 56n108, 65, 67, 77– 80, 82, 102n65, 103, 107, 114, 119, 139, 164, 167, 171, 194, 248, 279 punishment. See justice purposes of shrines, 5–18, 21, 91–94, 235–70, 295; political, 121, 122–25, 130. See also benefits of shrines; influencing future officials via shrines Qi Jiguang 戚繼光 (SD Dengzhou, 1528–88), 5n14, 75 Qian Fu 錢溥 (Wentong 文通) (NZ Huating, 1408–88), 262 Qian Rujing 錢如京 (NZ Tongcheng, ca. 1480–1541), 237, 240

Qiao Keda 喬可大 (SX Weizhou, jr. 1603), 265 Qin Gao 秦鎬 (HN Ruyang, fl. Chongzhen period), 240 Qin Gui 秦檜 (1090–1155), 262 Qin Hong 秦紘 (SD Shanxian, 1426– 1505), 130 Qin Jin 秦金 (NZ Wuxi, 1467–1544), 276, 280 Qin Shizhong 秦時中 (SD Shan xian, act. ca. 1384–87+), 41 Qiu Daoming 丘道明 (FJ Shanghang, fl. 1540s), 152 rank, 8, 16, 24, 56n109, 68–69, esp. 69n13, 88, 126–27, 128, 209–16, 216n5, 218, 237–40, 243, 262 Rao Bojun 饒伯鈞 (NZ Jiangdu, fl. 1543), 221–22, 233 reasons for enshrinement. See criteria for enshrinement Red Turbans, 11 refusal of shrine by enshrinee, 149, 151–55, 158, 288 rehabilitation, political, 130 religion, popular, 14 Ren Bin 任彬 (SX Puzhou, jr. 1522), 76n45 Ren Huan 任環 (SX Changzhi, 1519– 58), 218–19, 222, 224–28, 230–31, 233 Ren Yingzheng 任應徵 (SC Langzhong, js. 1583), 37n28, 187 reputation, 5, 11, 21, 41, 68, 73, 81, 89, 96, 103, 109, 125–30, 132–34, 148, 173, 186, 220, 230–31, 240–41, 263– 64, 282, 288, 290 resident administrators: in afterlife, 282; criticism of incumbents, 254–​55; duties of, 68–71; geographical limitations (or lack thereof), 276, 280; hereditary, 173;

354 index resident administrators (continued) Hongwu emperor’s reliance on, 133n48; retention of, 87, 88, 128– 29, 130, 161, 216; selection of, 142; semi-autonomy of, 69–70, 272–86; terms of office, 49, 53, 86, 173. See also Minor Mandate Ricci, Matteo, 24, 113, 129, 132, 268n77 Rites, Record of, 54, 56n109, 90, 104, 145, 154, 158, 192, 223, 231, 262, 289, 292 ritual, 32, 34, 35, 37, 53–59, 63, 71, 72, 100, 123, 148–49, 233, 284, 292; death, 30n2, 100n52, 226, 293; departure, 123, 124, 156, 161, 176–77, 183–84, 197, 208, 217, 222, 227, 236, 247, 282, 289, 293; Great Ritual Controversy, 24, 51n89; innovation in (“arising from right”), 51, 54, 146, 154–55, 158; music in, 36. See also Confucius, worship of; prayer and offerings Robinson, David, 69 Robson, James, 93 Rowe, William T., 14 ruler-minister/ruler-subject (junchen) relationship, 272, 274 Sangren, Steven, 97 Schell, Orville, 287 schools and education, 43, 49, 59, 67, 68, 71–74, 81, 82, 84, 102n65, 104, 119, 139, 165, 168, 172, 175, 195n57, 202, 216, 242, 246, 281, 282n46 Scott, James, 176 self-cultivation, 76, 115, 161 self-enshrinement and selfpromotion for enshrinement, 11n43, 148, 149, 155, 157, 249, 264, 288. See also Wei Zhongxian

sericulture. See agriculture and sericulture shamans, 70, 186, 279 Shao, Duke of. See Gantang tree Shao Bao 邵寳 (NZ Wuxi, 1460– 1527), 246, 252 Shao Min 邵敏 (HG Xiangyin, js. 1472), 81 Shen Liang 申良 (SX Gaoping, 1468–1524), 130n36 Shen Qi 沈琦 (NZ Wujiang, js. 1595), 80, 97 Sheng Chang 盛㫤 (NZ Wujiang, js. 1451), 82 shepherd metaphor, 54, 59, 85, 191, 225n33, 257. See also parental metaphor Shi Dao 史道 (BZ Zhuozhou, 1485– 1554), 183 Shi Kefa 史可法 (HN Xiangfu, 1601–45), 82 Shi Qing 石慶 (Han period), 158 Shi Yulu 史與祿 (HG Longyang, fl. 1597), 226, 230 shrine records: absence of, 101–3, 111; authors of, 7–8, 18, 21, 88, 90, 108, 135–36, 139–40, 141–42, 155, 162, 167, 168, 177, 180, 186, 187–89, 200, 216, 218–20, 225, 234, 240, 241, 244–45, 246, 251, 255, 265; departure steles, 18–23; genre conventions and tropes, 17–18, 22–23; permanence of, 30, 42, 203, 265; social class bias in, 197–201; steles, features of, 19; steles and shrines, differences between, 235–37; style of, 136, 187, 216, 217; as text acts, 235n1. See also protest; silence, criticism of officials by Shrines to Eminent Officials, 24, 59–63, 71, 73, 84n92, 91, 99n50,

index 355 102, 133n50, 139, 158, 200n71, 216n5, 219, 222, 226, 253, 257 Shrines to Former Worthies, 36n23, 50, 56n108, 59, 60, 61, 84n92, 100, 104, 115, 159 Shue, Vivienne, 290 silence, criticism of officials by, 138, 140, 142 Sima Guang 司馬光 (1019–86), 193n51 Sima Qian 司馬遷 (145–86 BC), 164–65 slavery, 73–74 Smith, Joanna Handlin, 65, 195 Snyder-Reinke, Jeffrey, 82 social class: bias in shrine records, 197–201; cooperation among, 127, 204; definitions, 178–79, 183–85; and enshrinement, 152–53, 194– 204, 235–36, 243–44; and prayer, 103–4, 107–8; and public opinion, 198; and schools, 202 social class and sovereignty. See sovereignty social mobility, 5, 126 Solinger, Dorothy, 9n34, 86n104 Song An 宋安 (HN Fengqiu, government student ca. 1428), 122, 280 Song Jixian 宋繼先 (SD Weixian, js. 1550), 122, 139–40 Song Li 宋禮 (HN Yongning, d. 1422), 78n54 Song Lian 宋濂 (ZJ Jinhua, 1310–81), 49 Song Na 宋訥 (HN Huaxian, 1311– 80), 97–98 songs. See ditties sovereignty: emperor, 51, 53, 69, 199, 217, 272–73; gentry, 9, 18, 69, 155, 163– 67, 198–99, 268–70; people, 166– 67, 170–72, 175, 176, 258–61, 285

spirits, 10, 15; City God, 2, 35n20, 70, 74, 84, 93, 98, 107n82, 113, 158, 273, 282–83; Earth, 2, 10, 20; Eastern Marchmount, 107n82; existence of, 114; Guanyin, 89, 90, 102, 246n29; Heaven, 2, 10, 20, 280– 81; hierarchy of, 93, 97, 107n82, 112–15; humans as, 96–99, 100, 113, 282–83; shrines to deities in general, 30, 35, 36, 70; types of, 70, 89, 98, 221n20. See also Confucius, worship of; Laozi, worship of; Mandate of Heaven sponsors of shrines, 12–13, 17–18, 21, 33, 39–41, 71–85, 113–14, 136, 137, 139–40, 143, 149–55, 167, 170, 175, 177, 179–86, 193, 199–200, 203, 218–20, 229, 233, 235–36, 238, 246, 252, 254–61, 262–63, 275, 288, 292. See also laws about shrines; see under shrine records, authors of state, definitions, 13n52, 294n8 statue. See images Struve, Lynn, 15 students: enshrining teachers, 242– 44; political speech by, 177, 193; as officials and enshrinees, 69, 73, 78, 80–81, 87, 97, 126, 134, 136, 152, 167, 200, 221–22, 253–54 Su Ji’ou 蘓繼歐 (HN Xuzhou, js. 1613), 256–60 suicide, 114 Sun An 孫安 (fl. 1446), 94n21 Sun Deyuan 孫德淵 (Jin period), 220n17 Sun Yu 孫遇 (SD Fushan, js. 1436), 128 Suo Shao 素紹 (HN Lingbao, tribute student fl. 1538), 81, 126 Sutton, Donald, 70

356 index tablets, memorial, in homes, 30, 37– 38, 93, 228 Taiping Rebellion, 14 Tan Lun 譚綸 (JX Yihuang, 1520– 77), 6n16 Tang Ai 唐愛 (NZ Jiading, js. 1541), 37, 76, 80, 138 Tang En 湯恩 (NZ Wujin, fl. Jiajing period), 126 Tang Zhen 唐甄 (SC Dazhou, 1630– 1704), 162n33 Tao An 陶安 (NZ Dangtu, 1310–68), 54, 83 taxation, 8, 23, 66, 71, 72, 73, 78, 80– 81, 82, 83, 84, 107, 111, 121, 126, 127, 131, 132, 135, 143–44, 149, 169, 179, 191, 194, 221–23, 226, 232, 237, 248, 253, 265, 267, 281, 284 Taylor, Romeyn, 95, 272n5 teachers, shrines to, 242–44 textiles, 81, 82, 84 textism, 21 Tian Qiu 田秋 (GZ Dejiang, js. 1514), 144 Tian Rucheng 田汝成 (ZJ Qiantang, 1500–1563+), 144 Tiananmen Movement, 14 Tianqi emperor, 4, 24, 260, 294 Tiger Mother. See Zhou Hu and his mother tombs, imperial, 67 torture, 48, 77, 91, 148, 261. See also justice trade, coastal, 24 transformation: of gentry, 71, 72; of people, 34, 70, 71, 161, 233 tropes. See under shrine records, genre conventions and tropes Tsai, Shih-shan Henry, 252

Veritable Records as source, 20, 43 violence, suppression of. See defense virtue, 34, 55, 160, 229n50, 238n10; “hidden” (yin de), 247 Wagner, Rudolf, 14–15 Wakeman, Frederic, 15, 267 Waltner, Ann, 125n11, 161n28, 294n7 Wan Shi 萬石 (Han period), 173n58 Wang Ao 王鏊 (NZ Wuxian, 1450– 1524), 131 Wang Chaoxiang 王朝相 (BZ Yongnian, js. 1535), 187, 189–93 Wang, Chelsea Zi, 123n8 Wang Chengyin 王承禋 (SH Sanyuan, fl. late 1400s), 244–45 Wang Dao 王道 (SD Wucheng, 1487–1547), 26, 33n7, 100–101, 152–53 Wang Daokun 汪道昆 (NZ She­ xian, 1525–93), 50 Wang Dayong 王大用 (FJ Xinghua wei, 1479–1553), 43n47 Wang Fansen, 176–77 Wang Guangyu 王光宇 (SX Linjin, js. 1535), 73 Wang Heming, 131n42 Wang Honghui 王弘誨 (GD Ding’an, 1542–1615), 242 Wang Jianping 王建屏 (SH Fuzhou, js. 1595), 35n19, 37n30 Wang Jianzhi 王鑑之 (ZJ Shanyin, 1440–1519), 45n61, 57n112, 256 Wang Jinchao 王進朝 (HN Xuzhou, fl. 1568), 227 Wang Jun 汪濬 (JX Fengcheng, fl. 1519), 229n50 Wang Pan 王泮 (ZJ Shanyin, b. 1539, js. 1574), 129

index 357 Wang Pin 王聘 (SD Lijin, js. 1523), 36n26 Wang Ping 王屏 (SH Hanzhong, fl. 1589), 230 Wang Pu 王朴 (ZJ Xiushui, tribute student Wanli period), 80–81 Wang Qi 王圻 (NZ Shanghai, 1535– 1614), 100 Wang Renchong 王任重 (FJ Jin­ jiang, js. 1568), 265–66 Wang Sanyu 王三餘 (BZ Anping, js. 1574), 110, 170 Wang Shenzhong 王慎中 (FJ Jin­ jiang, 1509–59), 95, 242 Wang Shizhen 王世貞 (NZ Taicang, 1526–90), 127, 201, 241, 282n46 Wang Shu (SH Sanyuan, 1416–1508), 244–45 Wang Simin 王思旻 (HG Huanggang, fl. 1444), 247–48 Wang Siren 王思任 (ZJ Shanyin/BZ Wanping, 1575–1646), 67 Wang Tang 王堂 (fl. 1518), 249–52 Wang Tianyu 王天與 (GD Xing­ ning, js. 1515), 46n66 Wang Tingxi 王廷錫 (ZJ Qiantang, js. 1592), 39–40 Wang Tingyu, 74 Wang Tonggui 王同軌 (HG Huanggang, fl. 1620), 283 Wang Wen, 74 Wang Xiangchun 王象春 (SD Xin­ cheng, js. 1610), 90 Wang Xinmin 王新民 (GZ Siqian, jr Longqing period), 125 Wang Yangming 王陽明 (ZJ Yuyao, 1472–1529), 15, 17–18, 24, 26, 30n2, 51n86, 141, 252; as enshrinee, 76–77; school of, 48, 52n91, 61, 119n1, 148, 233

Wang Yi 王彝 (ZJ Siming, d. 1436), 253–55 Wang Yuanyi 王遠宜 (BZ Bazhou, js. 1601), 171 Wang Yunfeng 王雲鳳 (SX Heshun, 1465–1517), 245 Wang Zhen 王振 (SX Weizhou, d. 1449), 263 Wang Zhen 王蓁 (ZJ Siming, fl. 1476), 255 Wang Zhi 王直 (JX Taihe, 1379– 1462), 56n108, 75, 155–57 Wang Zhi 汪直 (GX Guiping, fl. Chenghua period), 196 Wang Zhongxian 王重賢 (BZ Jiao­he, js. 1521), 236 Wang Zongyi 汪宗伊/尹 (HG Chongyang, js. 1538), 102–3 Wang Zuochang (“Rui’an Wang”) 王祚昌 (JX Shangrao, d. 1612), 91, 100 Wanli emperor, 24, 182n18 warning future officials via shrines. See influencing future officials via shrines Watt, John, 69 Weber, Max, 103 Wechsler, Howard J., 55n105 Wei Jiao 魏校 (NZ Kunshan, 1483– 1543), 43n47 Wei Kewan 魏克頑 (BZ Yuanshi, fl.1570), 275 Wei Zhongxian 魏忠賢 (BZ Suning, 1568–1627), 3–9, 24, 44, 120, 125, 155, 166, 169n49, 172, 175, 252, 260, 261, 290, 291, 294 Weller, Rob, 95n23 Wen Lin 文林 (NZ Changzhou, 1445–1599), 37, 185 Wen Weng 文翁 (Han period), 209

358 index Will, Pierre-Étienne, 17, 248n37 Wills, John E., 202 Wilson, Thomas, 92n10, 100 women: enshrinement of, 11, 43n49, 114, 294; in population statistics, 207n1. See also girls, infanticide of Wong, R. Bin, 285 Woodside, Alexander, 273 worship, 93–96, 104 Wu Chengqi 吳成器 (NZ Xiuning, fl. 1559), 44 Wu Guolun 吳國倫 (HG Xingguo, 1524–93), 6n16 Wu Jie 吳節 (JX Anfu, 1397–1481), 281 Wu Kuan 吳寛 (NZ Changzhou, 1436–1504), 246 Wu Xian 武賢 (SD Xiaoyi, fl. 1450s), 77 Wu Yan 伍晏 (FJ Qingliu, jr. 1489), 32 Wu Yanhong, 127 Wu Yubi 吳與弼 (JX Chongren, 1392–1469), 252 Wu Zhenyuan, 167 Wu Zhihe, 274 Xia Ji 夏璣 (NZ Kunshan, js. 1454), 77, 82 Xia, Mathias 夏瑪第亞 (Dachang 大常) (JX Nancheng, fl. 17th c.), 35, 231 Xia Ruli 夏汝礪 (GX Rongxian, jr. 1537), 76, 80 Xia Yan 夏言 (JX Guixi, js. 1517), 238, 240 Xiang Zhong 項忠 (ZJ Jiaxing, 1421–1502), 46n68, 87 Xiao Daheng 蕭大亨 (SD Tai’an, 1532–1612), 6n16, 268 Xiao Pan 蕭泮 (HG Xiangyin, jr. 1552), 227

Xie Shiyuan 謝士元 (FJ Changle, 1425–94), 151, 158 Xiong Rong 熊榮 (HN Guangshan, js. 1517), 51 Xiong Shangwen 熊尚文 (JX Feng­ cheng, js. 1595), 75n43 Xu De 許德 (SD Yidu, fl. 1366), 11 Xu Jie 徐階 (NZ Huating, 1503–83), 275n18 Xu Jin 徐縉 (NZ Wuxian, js. 1505), 275n18 Xu Jiusi 徐九思 (JX Guixi, jr. 1525), 36n27, 61, 93 Xu Neng 許能 (BZ Shahe, fl. Yongle period), 208n2 Xu Wenxian 許文獻 (NZ Changzhou, jr. Jiajing period), 80 Xu Ying 徐盈 (JX Guixi, js. 1505), 130, 197 Xu Yinong, 273 Xu Zhongxing 徐中行 (ZJ Chang­ xing, js. 1550), 241 Xu Zhuo 胥焯 (HG Baling, jr. 1525), 114 Xuande emperor, 64 Xue Zhen 薛貞 (SH Hancheng, js. 1601), 281 Yan Song 嚴嵩 (JX Fenyi, 1480– 1565), 242n16 Yan Zhongde 顏仲德 (fl. 1334), 216n5 Yang Bi 楊璧 (NZ Shangyuan, jr. 1552), 45n64, 52, 102–3 Yang Cheng 陽城, 145n83, 159, 253 Yang Chuan 楊傳 (FJ Changtai, fl. Zhengde period), 216 Yang, C. K., 13, 25, 103, 121, 125, 267, 291 Yang Hong 楊洪 (NZ Liuhe, 1381– 1451), 33, 185

index 359 Yang Jizong 楊繼宗 (SX Yangcheng; js. 1457, d. 1488), 196–201, 251 Yang, Lien-sheng, 86 Yang Wei 楊巍 (SD Haifeng, 1517– 1608), 246–47 Yao Shihua 姚世華 (NZ Xiushui, jr. 1594), 33n12 Yao Zhong 姚鐘 (ZJ Renhe, fl. 1529), 222–23, 226 Ye Baomin, 141n73, 142n75 Ye Xiang 葉相 (NZ Jiangdu, js. 1502), 123n10 Ye Xianggao 葉向高 (FJ Fuqing, 1558– 1627), 120 Ye Xiu 葉脩 (JX Nanchang, b. 1553, js. 1583), 41 Ying Zhang, 9 Yongle emperor, 74–75 You Mou 尤袤 (NZ Wuxi, 1127–94), 140 Yu, Anthony, 54 Yu Dingguo 于定國 (Han period), 173n58 Yu Qian 于謙 (ZJ Qiantang, 1398– 1457), 130n35 Yu Zhi 喻智 (NZ Dangtu, js. 1514), 152 Yuan Long 袁龍 (NZ Hefei, fl. Cheng­hua period), 278 Yue Fei 岳飛 (1103–42), 114, 131n42 Yunqi Zhuhong 雲棲祩宏 (ZJ Renhe, 1535–1615), 93n17 Zhan Ruoshui 湛若水 (GD Zeng­ cheng, 1466–1560), 90, 114, 141, 277n26 Zhang Dalun 張大綸 (BZ Shahe, fl. 1548), 219–20 Zhang Deyuan 張德源 (FJ Xianyou, fl. 1436), 253

Zhang Dujing 張篤敬 (SD Xin­ cheng, js. 1592), 170, 256n51 Zhang Hui 張煇 (Shuhua 叔華) (FJ Xianyou commoner, fl. 1475), 254 Zhang Ji 張濟 (HG Huanggang, jr. 1504), 134 Zhang Jingshi 張經世 (SH Weinan, js. 1595), 78 Zhang Jun (NZ Jiangpu, 1382–1448), 97 Zhang Juzheng 張居正 (HG Jiang­ ling, 1525–82), 9, 50, 65, 137, 261, 284 Zhang Mei, 77 Zhang Qicheng 張企程 (SH Yang­ xian, js. 1589), 67 Zhang Sheng 張昇 (JX Nancheng, 1442–1517), 151–52 Zhang Shenxue 張慎學 (SX Xia­ xian, js. 1637), 163–65 Zhang Xi 張僖 (FJ Yongding, js. 1538), 184n28 Zhang Xian 張賢 (BZ Shahe, fl. 1548), 220 Zhang Xigao 張希臯 (HG Anlu, js. 1577), 73n32 Zhang Xiyin 張希尹 (SD Linqing wei, js. 1517), 237, 240 Zhang Yanting 張延庭 (SD Bin­ zhou, fl. 1574), 248n37 Zhang Yingzhong 張應中 (JX Wan’an, jr. ca. 1610), 41 Zhang Yunxian 章允賢 (Jiuhua 九‌華) (NZ Qingyang, js. 1529), 36n25, 189 Zhang Zhidao 張志道 (NZ Wujin, student 1425), 82 Zhang Zongchang, 11n43 Zhao Kesheng, 38, 41, 44, 50, 51, 75, 105, 177, 291 Zhao Ren 趙仁 (NZ Wuxi, fl. 1597), 268

360 index Zhao Rukun 趙如菎 (BZ Shahe, fl. 1568), 228 Zhao Shanji 趙善繼 (NZ Shang­ yuan, fl. 1567), 136–37 Zhao Shideng 趙士登 (NZ Jingxian, js. 1580), 112n92 Zhao Tingrui 趙廷瑞 (BZ Kaizhou, 1492–1551), 238, 240 Zhao Xingbang 趙興邦 (BZ Gaoyi, js. 1601), 183 Zhao Ying 趙瀛 (SH Sanyuan, js. 1529), 80n62 Zhao Zhonghui 趙仲輝 (SX Wenxi, js. 1481), 148, 157, 247 Zheng Ji 鄭紀 (FJ Xianyou, js. 1460), 68, 253–55 Zheng Liangbi 鄭良璧 (FJ Jinjiang, jr. 1545), 167 Zheng Sanjun 鄭三俊 (NZ Jiande, js. 1598), 275 Zheng Zhilong 鄭芝龍 (FJ Nan’an, 1604–61), 11 Zhengde emperor, 24, 237, 249–52, 267 Zhengtong emperor, 263 Zhi Ting 智鋌 (BZ Yuanshi, jr. 1609), 260 Zhou Chen 周忱 (JX Jishui, 1381– 1453), 131

Zhou Hongmu 周洪謨 (SC Changning, 1420–92), 12n48 Zhou Hu 周虎 (Song period) and his mother, 11, 43n49, 294 Zhou Rutou 周如斗 (ZJ Yuyao, js. 1547), 143 Zhou Shiqi 周士器 (JX Nankang, js. 1529), 72 Zhou Shunchang 周順昌 (NZ Wu­ xian, js. 1613), 8 Zhou Tang 周鏜 (NZ Suqian, js. 1547), 62n126 Zhu Chang 朱裳 (BZ Shahe, 1482– 1539), 232 Zhu Guozhen, 87, 201 Zhu Tongmeng 朱童蒙 (SD Laiwu, 1573–1637), 6 Zhu Weizheng, 91, 96, 99, 101, 108 Zhu Xi 朱熹 (1130–1200), 74, 100, 262 Zhu Yi 朱邑 (d. 61 BC), 49, 58, 93 Zhu Yuanzhang. See Hongwu emperor Zong Chen 宗臣 (NZ Xinghua, 1525–60), 110–11 Zou Chi 鄒墀 (ZJ Yuyao, js. 1568), 186 Zou Yuanbiao 鄒元標 (JX Jishui, 1551–1624), 6

Harvard-Yenching Institute Monograph Series (titles now in print) 24. Population, Disease, and Land in Early Japan, 645–900, by William Wayne Farris 25. Shikitei Sanba and the Comic Tradition in Edo Fiction, by Robert W. Leutner 26. Washing Silk: The Life and Selected Poetry of Wei Chuang (834?–910), by Robin D. S. Yates 28. Tang Transformation Texts: A Study of the Buddhist Contribution to the Rise of Vernacular Fiction and Drama in China, by Victor H. Mair 30. Readings in Chinese Literary Thought, by Stephen Owen 31. Rememhering Paradise: Nativism and Nostalgia in Eighteenth- Century Japan, by Peter Nosco 33. Escape from the Wasteland: Romanticism and Realism in the Fiction of Mishima Yukio and Oe Kenzaburo, by Susan Jolliffe Napier 34. Inside a Service Trade: Studies in Contemporary Chinese Prose, by Rudolf G. Wagner 35. The Willow in Autumn: Ryutei Tanehiko, 1783–1842, by Andrew Lawrence Markus 36. The Confucian Transformation of Korea: A Study of Society and Ideology, by Martina Deuchler 37. The Korean Singer of Tales, by Marshall R. Pihl 38. Praying for Power: Buddhism and the Formation of Gentry Society in Late-Ming China, by Timothy Brook 39. Word, Image, and Deed in the Life of Su Shi, by Ronald C. Egan 41. Studies in the Comic Spirit in Modern Japanese Fiction, by Joel R. Cohn 42. Wind Against the Mountain: The Crisis of Politics and Culture in Thirteenth- Century China, by Richard L. Davis 43. Powerful Relations: Kinship, Status, and the State in Sung China (960–1279), by Beverly Bossler 44. Limited Views: Essays on Ideas and Letters, by Qian Zhongshu; selected and translated by Ronald Egan 45. Sugar and Society in China: Peasants, Technology, and the World Market, by Sucheta Mazumdar 49. Precious Volumes: An Introduction to Chinese Sectarian Scriptures from the Sixteenth and Seventeenth Centuries, by Daniel L. Overmyer 50. Poetry and Painting in Song China: The Subtle Art of Dissent, by Alfreda Murck 51. Evil and/or/as the Good: Omnicentrism, Intersubjectivity, and Value Paradox in Tiantai Buddhist Thought, by Brook Ziporyn 53. Articulated Ladies: Gender and the Male Community in Early Chinese Texts, by Paul Rouzer 55. Allegories of Desire: Esoteric Literary Commentaries of Medieval Japan, by Susan Blakeley Klein 56. Printing for Profit: The Commercial Publishers of Jianyang, Fujian (11th-17th Centuries), by Lucille Chia 57. To Become a God: Cosmology, Sacrifice, and Self-Divinization in Early China, by Michael J. Puett

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Writing and Materiality in China: Essays in Honor of Patrick Hanan, edited by Judith T. Zeitlin and Lydia H. Liu Rulin waishi and Cultural Transformation in Late Imperial China, by Shang Wei Words Well Put: Visions of Poetic Competence in the Chinese Tradition, by Graham Sanders Householders: The Reizei Family in Japanese History, by Steven D. Carter The Divine Nature of Power: Chinese Ritual Architecture at the Sacred Site of Jinci, by Tracy Miller Beacon Fire and Shooting Star: The Literary Culture of the Liang (502–557), by Xiaofei Tian Lost Soul: “Confucianism” in Contemporary Chinese Academic Discourse, by John Makeham The Sage Learning of Liu Zhi: Islamic Thought in Confucian Terms, by Sachiko Murata, William C. Chittick, and Tu Weiming Through a Forest of Chancellors: Fugitive Histories in Liu Yuan’s Lingyan ge, an Illustrated Book from Seventeenth- Century Suzhou, by Anne Burkus- Chasson Empire of Texts in Motion: Chinese, Korean, and Taiwanese Transculturations of Japanese Literature, by Karen Laura Thornber Empire’s Twilight: Northeast Asia Under the Mongols, by David M. Robinson Ancestors, Virgins, and Friars: Christianity as a Local Religion in Late Imperial China, by Eugenio Menegon Manifest in Words, Written on Paper: Producing and Circulating Poetry in Tang Dynasty China, by Christopher M. B. Nugent The Poetics of Sovereignty: On Emperor Taizong of the Tang Dynasty, by Jack W. Chen Ancestral Memory in Early China, by K. E. Brashier ‘Dividing the Realm in Order to Govern’: The Spatial Organization of the Song State, by Ruth Mostern The Dynamics of Masters Literature: Early Chinese Thought from Confucius to Han Feizi, by Wiebke Denecke Songs of Contentment and Transgression: Discharged Officials and Literati Communities in Sixteenth- Century North China, by Tian Yuan Tan Ten Thousand Scrolls: Reading and Writing in the Poetics of Huang Tingjian and the Late Northern Song, by Yugen Wang A Northern Alternative: Xue Xuan (1389-1464) and the Hedong School, by Khee Heong Koh Visionary Journeys: Travel Writings from Early Medieval and Nineteenth- Century China, by Xiaofei Tian Making Personas: Transnational Film Stardom in Modern Japan, by Hideaki Fujiki Strange Eventful Histories: Identity, Performance, and Xu Wei’s Four Cries of a Gibbon, by Shiamin Kwa Critics and Commentators: The Book of Poems as Classic and Literature, by Bruce Rusk Home and the World: Editing the Glorious Ming in Woodblock-Printed Books of the Sixteenth and Seventeenth Centuries, by Yuming He Courtesans, Concubines, and the Cult of Female Fidelity, by Beverly Bossler Chinese History: A New Manual, Third Edition, by Endymion Wilkinson A Comprehensive Manchu-English Dictionary, by Jerry Norman

Harvard-Yenching Institute Monograph Series 86. 87. 88. 89. 90. 91. 92. 93. 94. 95. 96. 97. 98. 99. 100. 101. 102. 103. 104. 105. 106. 107. 108. 109. 110. 111. 112. 113.

Drifting among Rivers and Lakes: Southern Song Dynasty Poetry and the Problem of Literary History, by Michael Fuller Martial Spectacles of the Ming Court, by David M. Robinson Modern Archaics: Continuity and Innovation in the Chinese Lyric Tradition, 1900-1937, by Shengqing Wu Cherishing Antiquity: The Cultural Construction of an Ancient Chinese Kingdom, by Olivia Milburn The Burden of Female Talent: The Poet Li Qingzhao and Her History in China, by Ronald Egan Public Memory in Early China, by K. E. Brashier Women and National Trauma in Late Imperial Chinese Literature, by Wai-yee Li The Destruction of the Medieval Chinese Aristocracy, by Nicolas Tackett Savage Exchange: Han Imperialism, Chinese Literary Style, and the Economic Imagination, by Tamara T. Chin Shifting Stories: History, Gossip, and Lore in Narratives from Tang Dynasty China, by Sarah M. Allen One Who Knows Me: Friendship and Literary Culture in Mid-Tang China, by Anna Shields Materializing Magic Power: Chinese Popular Religion in Villages and Cities, by Wei-Ping Lin Traces of Grand Peace: Classics and State Activism in Imperial China, by Jaeyoon Song Fiction’s Family: Zhan Xi, Zhan Kai, and the Business of Women in Late- Qing China, by Ellen Widmer Chinese History: A New Manual, Fourth Edition, by Endymion Wilkinson After the Prosperous Age: State and Elites in Early Nineteenth- Century Suzhou, by Seunghyun Han Celestial Masters: History and Ritual in Early Daoist Communities, by Terry F. Kleeman Transgressive Typologies: Constructions of Gender and Power in Early Tang China, by Rebecca Doran Li Mengyang, the North- South Divide, and Literati Learning in Ming China, by Chang Woei Ong Bannermen Tales (Zidishu): Manchu Storytelling and Cultural Hybridity in the Qing Dynasty, by Elena Suet-Ying Chiu Upriver Journeys: Diaspora and Empire in Southern China, 1570-1850, by Steven B. Miles Ancestors, Kings, and the Dao, by Constance A. Cook The Halberd at Red Cliff: Jian’an and the Three Kingdoms, by Xiaofei Tian Speaking of Profit: Bao Shichen and Reform in Nineteenth- Century China, by William T. Rowe Building for Oil: Daqing and the Formation of the Chinese Socialist State, by Hou Li Reading Philosophy, Writing Poetry: Intertextual Modes of Making Meaning in Early Medieval China, by Wendy Swartz Writing for Print: Publishing and the Making of Textual Authority in Late Imperial China, by Suyoung Son Shen Gua’s Empiricism, by Ya Zuo

Harvard-Yenching Institute Monograph Series 114. Just a Song: Chinese Lyrics from the Eleventh and Early Twelfth Centuries, by Stephen Owen 115. Shrines to Living Men in the Ming Political Cosmos, by Sarah Schneewind 116. In the Wake of the Mongols: The Making of a New Social Order in North China, 1200– 1600, by Jinping Wang 117. Opera, Society, and Politics in Modern China, by Hsiao-t’i Li 118. Imperiled Destinies: The Daoist Quest for Deliverance in Medieval China, by Franciscus Verellen 119. Ethnic Chrysalis: China’s Orochen People and the Legacy of Qing Borderland Administration, by Loretta Kim