The Diligence and Integrity Chapter of Linchuan Culture | Tang Xianzu: A True Gentleman Who Never Tires of Teaching Others

Tang Xianzu (1550–1616), courtesy name Yiren, art name Hai Ruo, was a native of Linchuan in Jiangxi Province and a renowned dramatist and literary figure of the Ming dynasty. Beyond his widely celebrated plays and his official career, educating and instructing others also constituted an important chapter in his life. While serving as an official in places such as Xuwén and Suichang, Tang Xianzu took great pleasure in personally teaching the students of the county school, expounding the principles of the classics; he often engaged with them in discussions on moral cultivation and textual interpretation. After resigning from office and retiring to seclusion, he devoted himself even more vigorously to nurturing younger scholars, supporting the establishment of schools in Linchuan and educating generations of students, thereby making significant contributions to the transmission of Confucian culture.
  Inheriting the tradition of upright and incorruptible conduct.
  The Tang family, a renowned scholarly clan of Linchuan, was distinguished by its upright and virtuous household traditions. Tang Xianzu’s grandfather, Tang Maozhao, “harbored lofty aspirations… and enjoyed great prestige among the Confucian scholars,” while his father, Tang Shangxian, likewise “wrote in a style both refined and archaic, and conducted himself with integrity and propriety.” Beginning with his great-grandfather, the family had established a library, “which housed more than forty thousand volumes, gathering texts from ancestors and forefathers.” Moreover, the elder members of the clan attached great importance to the education of their descendants, sparing no expense in “building a private academy to carry forward the family’s scholarly legacy.” Under the nurturing influence of this distinguished home, Tang Xianzu developed from an early age an abiding reverence for the teachings of the sages.
  At the age of thirteen, Tang Xianzu embarked on his journey as a student, “carrying a satchel and dragging his sandals.” The first teacher his family chose for him was Xu Liangfu, a gifted scholar from Dongxiang renowned for his integrity and forthrightness. Xu Liangfu was a man of great moral fortitude; he had served as an imperial censor in the Censorate, but after voicing candid remonstrances that offended powerful officials, he was imprisoned in the Zhaoyu Prison. Enduring unspeakable torments, he refused to bow or beg for mercy, and was ultimately stripped of his post and reduced to commoner status. Xu Liangfu exerted a profound influence on Tang Xianzu. Throughout his official career, Tang never sought advancement by flattery or subservience to the powerful; instead, he dared to risk his life in offering forthright counsel to rectify the ills of his time. After Xu Liangfu’s passing, Tang Xianzu composed the “Biography of Master Xu Zibi,” expressing his deep reverence and affection. In his later years, he also penned the “Fu Fu Yin” to commemorate his mentor, lamenting that, though nearing the end of his days, he felt he had fallen short of his teacher’s expectations.
  The second mentor who exerted a profound influence on Tang Xianzu was the renowned scholar of the School of Mind, Luo Rufang. In the forty-fourth year of the Jiajing reign, at the age of seventeen, Tang Xianzu went to study at the Conggu Shanfang, a school founded by Luo Rufang. In the fifth year of the Wanli era, Luo Rufang was appointed Right Vice-Minister; he was a consummate scholar and, above all, a man of genuine sincerity. At one point, he was invited to the Guanghui Temple outside the capital to deliver lectures on Confucian learning. Taking advantage of this occasion, certain powerful officials who disapproved of the School of Mind instructed the Censor Zhou Liangyin to impeach Luo Rufang, accusing him of “failing to carry out his duties after completing his mission and secretly remaining in the capital,” and of “undermining the imperial court and sowing confusion between name and reality.” Pressured by such persecution, Luo Rufang resigned from office and returned to his hometown, devoting himself once again to teaching. Tang Xianzu, endowed with keen intelligence and an upright character, won Luo Rufang’s deep affection. Later, as he navigated the vicissitudes of official life, Tang Xianzu composed numerous poems—such as “Passing Through Guangdong and Bidding Farewell to My Friends at Conggu” and “Night Talks on Mount Luofu, Recalling Master Mingde”—which bear witness to his steadfast remembrance of his teacher’s teachings and serve as encouragement to himself amid adversity.
  Educating people in the way of the gentleman.
  Around the nineteenth year of the Wanli era, the Ming court faced both internal turmoil and external threats, with the state in grave peril. Emperor Shenzong issued an edict sternly rebuking those responsible. Tang Xianzu, ever forthright and unyielding, steadfastly upholding righteousness, was consumed by deep concern for his country. In the fourth month of the xinmao year, he submitted to the emperor a memorial titled “On the Ministers and Censors.” Every word therein was grounded in truth, and his analysis hit the very heart of the matter, sending shockwaves through the court and among the people. To stabilize the administration, the emperor ordered Tang Xianzu’s demotion to Xuwén. After his banishment, Tang Xianzu followed the example of his mentor, Luo Rufang: when in office, he worried about the welfare of the realm; when out of it, he devoted himself to education. In Xuwén, working hand in hand with the county magistrate Xiong Min, he vigorously established a renowned academy. As Liu Yingqiu recorded in his “Inscription on the Guisheng Academy of Xuwén County,” the local literati “knew that within the region there abounded men of virtue and talent, long esteemed far and wide; upon arriving, they would adjust their robes and hats and press forward to pay their respects, their footsteps constantly crossing one another.” Moreover, “they came to realize that the prestige of the Guisheng Academy extended throughout the empire, not merely for its scholars’ abilities. Consequently, the officials and students alike vied to bow before it and receive its teachings. The academy’s administrators and disciples eagerly engaged in discussions and exchanges, tirelessly expounding and elucidating, never tiring of such pursuits. Day after day, students held their texts, posing questions without pause; the halls were always crowded, so much so that even the official quarters could scarcely accommodate them.” Thus, Tang Xianzu conferred with Magistrate Xiong Min, deciding “to select a spacious and well‑ventilated site and erect a lecture hall”—the famed Guisheng Academy. It was here that Tang Xianzu taught his disciples the Way of the Junzi. In his “Discourse on the Guisheng Academy,” he wrote: “Once, while reading, I came across Yi Yin’s words: ‘Heaven has created these people, enabling those who know first to awaken those who know later’… Only then did I understand that ‘a gentleman, by studying the Way, learns to love others.’ Therefore, whenever I passed through a prefecture or county, if there were any local officials or students worthy of conversation, I never failed to share this teaching.”
  The Way of the Junzi was both Tang Xianzu’s personal pursuit and the guiding principle he imparted to his students. In the twenty-first year of the Wanli era, before the Guisheng Academy had yet been completed, Tang Xianzu transferred to Suichang County in Zhejiang to serve as its magistrate. Though the region was mountainous with little arable land and a sparse population, he nonetheless persevered in overcoming these challenges to establish an academy. Coincidentally, a nearby mountain bore the name “Junzi”; accordingly, upon the academy’s completion, he joyfully composed the poem “Ten Rhymes on the New Completion of Xiangpu, Presented to the Students”: “Ritual and music flourish in Pingchang; the students assemble in the archery hall. The mountain’s form resembles the junzi, and the earth’s veins run alongside the sage,” thereby offering his counsel to the students. Later, he even renamed the county government office “Junzi Hall” to make his resolve plain, composing a verse that praised: “Before Junzi Hall, smoke and trees stand in unison; mountain kitchens and water mills all lie west of the bridge. In the courtyard, disputes abound among banana trees and deer; in the market, there is no clamor, few cockfights.” Moreover, Tang Xianzu instructed his younger generation: “The Tao family should plant only willows; jade trees and orchids are seldom needed,” urging them to aspire to become noble, fragrant orchids and jade trees, and to uphold the spirit of the junzi.
   The professor teaches the learning of the sages.
  The Tang family was a distinguished lineage of Confucian scholars; his great-grandfather, grandfather, and father were all men of profound learning, and Tang Xianzu himself studied under eminent masters of Confucianism. In this tradition of scholarly inheritance, it was only natural that he, too, instructed his students and disciples in the teachings of the sages, guiding them along the path of inquiry.
  While serving as magistrate in Suichang, Tang Xianzu often “gathered with scholars as mentors and friends, lingering until the late hours; all spoke with eloquence and conviction, expounding on the classics of poetry, history, and the six arts.” In the Ming dynasty, the eight‑legged essay had come to dominate, and the so‑called learning of the sages—poetry, history, and the six arts—had long been obscured by an overwhelming tide of examination‑oriented compositions. Yet Tang Xianzu, true to his sincere nature, held a distinct perspective: he maintained that the “six arts” constituted the virtues of the gentleman and the skills of ritual and music, and even if they seemed of little use for the imperial examinations, they ought not to be neglected. In particular, archery possessed its own intrinsic rationale. In his “Record of the Archery Hall at the Xiangpu Academy in Suichang County,” addressing the question of “why should scholars practice archery,” he explained: first, archery among the gentry was itself a form of ritual, closely aligned with the way of ritual and music; second, when the emperor performed sacrifices, archery was indispensable, making it a skill every scholar should master; and third, since ancient times there has been a tradition of shooting arrows toward the four directions of heaven and earth as a symbolic expression of a man’s lofty aspirations—a requisite ability for any true man. Tang Xianzu thus regarded archery as embodying a cultural tradition rooted in the spirit of ritual and music, placing it squarely within the realm of the sages’ learning and deeming it unworthy of abandonment. Accordingly, he spared no expense in restoring the archery hall at the county academy, demonstrating his earnest commitment to transmitting the wisdom of the sages rather than confining himself to the narrow pursuits of the imperial examinations.
  Tang Xianzu believed that teaching the “learning of the sages and worthies” is akin to the Master’s method—“he gently yet skillfully leads others, guiding them to understand their own nature.” In this way, learners, through such a gradual and patient process, come to gain a deeper insight into the issues they encounter in life, enabling them to recognize their destiny, cultivate their full nature, illuminate their virtue, and abide by ritual propriety, thereby ensuring that “in matters of survival or demise, advance or retreat, they never stray from the proper path.” Thus, engaging with the students in discussing moral principles and seeking clarification on textual matters constitutes the teaching of the sages’ learning; likewise, practicing archery at the shooting range is itself a means of transmitting this sacred wisdom. This also embodies the underlying meaning of Tang Xianzu’s words in the Preface to the Newly Constructed Confucian Academy of Tingzhou Prefecture: “Throughout the Three Dynasties, the cultivation of scholars was always governed by established methods… Benevolence, righteousness, and morality—the very foundations upon which superiors and inferiors mutually sustain one another—all trace their origin to this single principle.”
  Tang Xianzu inherited and further developed Luo Rufang’s doctrine of the sage‑virtue and human nature, while also carrying forward his master’s vivid and lively teaching methods—“sometimes solemnly sighing, sometimes warmly conversing, sometimes reciting poetry, sometimes playing the zither”—and engaged in ceaseless poetic exchanges and an unbroken correspondence with his disciples scattered throughout the realm. Even on the eve of his death, students continued to visit him, seeking instruction, which testifies to the profound depth of his teachings.
  Educate one’s children in the pursuits of farming and scholarly study.
  The Tang family was a distinguished and prominent clan in the Linchuan region, but by no means a household of immense wealth. In particular, in the sixth year of the Longqing era, a fire struck their home: “Their treasured books were suddenly consumed by flames, and the accumulated volumes lay scattered and disordered. For ten years they had no fixed abode, enduring hardship under the strict discipline of father and mother.” Thereafter, life at home became exceedingly arduous, making the family’s tradition of alternating between farming and scholarly pursuits all the more vital.
  Though Tang Xianzu spent fifteen years in official service, he was known for his incorruptible integrity and his generous support of education. While serving in Xuwen and Suichang, he even contributed his meager salary to the construction of the county schools, which left him perpetually in modest means. After retiring to the countryside, one day several of his former students from Suichang paid him a visit on their travels; they were all astonished to find their revered teacher personally tending to the fields. In his poem “Two Poems Composed upon Receiving Several Disciples Who Had Gone to Study in Wuyue, with a Few Visitors at Home,” Tang Xianzu wrote: “I send my sons westward to Wu Yue to pursue their studies; in those days, my pupils blossomed like the first flush of spring. Today I meet the old man of Chaisang—under the setting sun, in the chilly garden, he still wields his hoe. The spring breeze has barely begun to play upon the zither; I send you off to Hangzhou with a single whip as a parting gift. Now that your teacher has long lingered beneath the trees, might he yet earn some money to support your studies?”
  Tang Xianzu not only tilled the fields himself but also frequently used this practice to teach his children and disciples never to forget their proper duties. In the twenty-first year of the Wanli era, shortly after taking up his post in Suichang, a student surnamed Su came to seek his guidance; Tang composed a poem to admonish him: “Who will hold the reins of the new year’s spring? I grant you the task of breaking the fertile hills of Rui‑niu… If you do not aspire to the lofty spirit of Mount Emei, how could your reading ever be worthy of my listening in drunken repose?” Both farming and learning are the foundations of one’s livelihood; neither should be neglected. In the twenty-eighth year of the Wanli era, Tang Xianzu’s second son, Da Qi, set out for Nanjing in search of fame and success. Tang specially penned “Two Poems on My Son Qi” to counsel this young man just entering the world: “Leisurely wandering is no true calling for a son of our house; it is far better to return and learn to till the fields.”
  Tang Xianzu was keenly aware that, for families devoted to both farming and learning, the harmonious combination of a husband’s diligence and a wife’s frugality constituted the very foundation of enduring prosperity and lasting success. In his “Zhi Zhi Yong Shi Zi,” he wrote: “Only with aspiration can one attain wisdom; only with wisdom can one harbor true aspiration. The idle man is but a hollow shell, while the dim‑witted lack even the spark of thought.” He maintained that only industriousness can give rise to lofty ambitions, and that only when both aspiration and wisdom are present can one achieve meaningful accomplishments. Tang Xianzu regarded diligence as a precious virtue and frugality as a noble spirit; in his poem “Nei Ren Ru Zhai,” he praised his wife thus: “In her plain retreat, clad in simple robes, she shines like the moon—admiring the fragrant garlands of jasmine.” He believed that even those who live modestly may yet radiate inner brilliance. On the eve of his death, he composed the “Seven Farewell Verses,” urging his descendants to keep all funeral rites as simple as possible, forbidding any extravagance or waste.
  In the thirty-sixth year of the Wanli reign, more than ten years had passed since Tang Xianzu retired to seclusion in Suichang; yet the local officials and common people there still remembered the kindness of their former magistrate‑teacher. They commissioned the painter Xu Lüyun to come and paint his portrait, intending to erect a shrine in his honor to commemorate his benevolence. Upon hearing this news, Tang Xianzu felt even greater remorse, exclaiming, “The people of Pingchang venerate me—by what means can I, in turn, honor them?” Integrity and self‑reflection were the noble qualities and moral virtues that Tang Xianzu steadfastly upheld, and they are precisely why he has long been cherished in the hearts of the people.
Source: Learning Times