伯夷列傳

Scholars possess an immense range of texts, yet they still verify their claims against the Six Classics. Though the Odes and the Documents have gaps, the records of the Yu and Xia periods can still be known. When Yao was about to abdicate, he yielded the throne to Yu Shun. Between Shun and Yu, the regional governors all recommended the successor, who was then tested in office for decades; only after his achievements were proven was power formally transferred. This showed All-Under-Heaven how weighty were the instruments of rule and how difficult it was to transmit the great succession. Yet some claim that Yao offered All-Under-Heaven to Xu You, and Xu You refused, considering the offer shameful, and fled into seclusion. In the time of the Xia, there were Bian Sui and Wu Guang. How should we account for these men? The Grand Historian says: I climbed Mount Ji, and on its summit there is said to be the tomb of Xu You. Confucius catalogued the humane sages and worthies of antiquity — men like Wu Taibo and Bo Yi — in considerable detail. Yet from what I have heard, Xu You and Wu Guang were men of the loftiest righteousness, and still their words are scarcely to be found anywhere. Why is this?

Confucius said: "Bo Yi and Shu Qi did not dwell on old grievances, and so resentment was rare in them." And: "They sought humaneness and obtained it — what had they to resent?" I grieve over what Bo Yi intended, and find the lost poem attributed to him remarkable. The tradition says: Bo Yi and Shu Qi were the two sons of the Lord of Guzhu. Their father wished to install Shu Qi as heir. When the father died, Shu Qi deferred to Bo Yi. Bo Yi said: "It was our father's command." And fled. Shu Qi likewise refused to take the throne and fled. The people of the state installed the middle son. Then Bo Yi and Shu Qi, hearing that the Lord of the West, Chang, treated the elderly well, said: "Why not go to him?" But when they arrived, the Lord of the West had died. King Wu loaded the wooden spirit-tablet onto his war chariot, proclaimed his father "King Wen," and marched east to attack King Zhou. Bo Yi and Shu Qi seized King Wu's horses and remonstrated: "Your father is dead and not yet buried, and already you take up weapons — can this be called filial? As a subject you would kill your sovereign — can this be called humane?" The attendants wished to strike them down. The Grand Duke said: "These are righteous men." He supported them and led them away. After King Wu had pacified the disorder of Yin and All-Under-Heaven acknowledged Zhou, Bo Yi and Shu Qi considered it shameful. On principle they refused to eat the grain of Zhou, withdrew to Mount Shouyang, and lived on gathered ferns. When they were starving and near death, they composed a song. Its words say: "We climb that western mountain / and gather its ferns. / He replaces violence with violence / and does not see his own wrong. / Shennong, Yu, and Xia have suddenly vanished — / where shall we turn? / Alas, let us depart — / our fate has declined!" And so they starved to death on Mount Shouyang. Viewing this, did they feel resentment or not?

Some say: "The Way of Heaven plays no favorites — it always sides with the good." But Bo Yi and Shu Qi — were they not good men? They accumulated humaneness and kept their conduct pure, yet they starved to death! Moreover, among the seventy disciples, Confucius singled out Yan Hui alone as truly devoted to learning. Yet Hui was constantly destitute, could not even fill himself on husks and chaff, and died young. If this is how Heaven repays the good, what does that say? The Bandit Zhi killed innocents every day, ate men's livers, acted with savage cruelty, gathered a gang of thousands and rampaged across All-Under-Heaven — yet he died of old age. What virtue was he following? These are the most glaringly obvious cases. In more recent times, men whose conduct was lawless and who deliberately flouted every prohibition have lived in ease and luxury their whole lives, with wealth passed down for generations unbroken. Others chose their steps with care, spoke only at the right moment, walked no shortcuts, and never acted except from a sense of justice — yet those who met with disaster are too many to count. I am deeply perplexed by this. If this is what they call the Way of Heaven — is it right, or is it not?

The Master said: "Those whose ways differ do not make plans together" — each follows his own purpose. Therefore he also said: "If wealth and rank could be sought after, I would do it even as a whip-bearer. But if they cannot be sought, I follow what I love." And: "Only when the year turns cold do we see that the pine and cypress are last to wither." When the whole world is turbid, the pure man stands out. Is it that the world treats what should be valued as heavy, and what should be valued as light?

"The gentleman dreads reaching the end of his life with his name unspoken." Jia Yi said: "The greedy man dies for wealth, the ardent man dies for fame, the vainglorious man dies for power, and the common people cling to life." "Like brilliance illuminates like brilliance; like kind seeks like kind." "Clouds follow the dragon, winds follow the tiger; when a sage arises, all creatures behold him." Bo Yi and Shu Qi, though worthy, gained their fame through the Master, whose praise made them illustrious. Yan Hui, though devoted to learning, gained visibility by riding, as it were, at the tail of a swift horse. The recluses of caves and cliffs, whose choices to act or withdraw were much the same — their names were buried and went unspoken. How sad! For a man of the back alleys who wishes to hone his conduct and establish his name: unless he attaches himself to a man of eminence, how can his influence extend to later ages?