The Scholar in Exile: Sima Guang’s Withdrawal from Politics

In the waning years of the Northern Song Dynasty, Sima Guang—renowned historian, statesman, and staunch conservative—found himself increasingly alienated from the imperial court. The political landscape had shifted dramatically under the radical reforms of Chancellor Wang Anshi, whose New Policies (新法) aimed at restructuring taxation, military organization, and economic governance. Sima Guang, a vocal critic of these measures, saw them as disruptive to Confucian social order and harmful to the peasantry. By 1070, his opposition had rendered him politically isolated.

Faced with diminishing influence, Sima Guang requested a leave from court duties, retreating to Luoyang in 1071. Here, far from the intrigues of Kaifeng, he immersed himself in scholarly pursuits, cultivating a life of quiet reflection. His withdrawal was not merely an escape but a deliberate Confucian response to political disillusionment: when one could not “order the state and pacify the world” (治国平天下), the next best course was to “cultivate the self and regulate the family” (修身齐家).

The Creation of the “Garden of Solitary Joy”

In 1073, two years after settling in Luoyang, Sima Guang purchased twenty acres of land in the city’s Zunxian district. Here, he designed and oversaw the construction of his famed Dule Yuan (独乐园), the “Garden of Solitary Joy.” The name itself was a pointed reference to Mencius, which critiques selfish enjoyment: “To enjoy alone is not as good as sharing joy with others” (独乐乐不如众乐乐). Yet Sima Guang, in his writings, defended his choice with resigned irony:

> “My joys are shallow, crude, and rustic—things the world has already discarded. Even if I offered them, who would accept? How could I impose?”

The garden was a microcosm of idealized scholarly life:
– The Hall of Ten Thousand Volumes (读书堂): A library for intellectual communion with ancient sages.
– The Pavilion of Water Play (弄水轩) & Fishing Hut (钓鱼庵): Spaces for leisurely engagement with nature.
– The Bamboo Studio (种竹斋) & Flower-Watering Pavilion (浇花亭): Gardens for meditation and horticulture.
– The Mountain-Viewing Terrace (见山台): A vantage point for contemplating distant peaks.

In letters, Sima Guang described his existence here as one of unburdened tranquility: “The moon arrives in its season; the breeze comes unbidden. I walk without restraint, rest without obstruction. My senses, my very breath, belong only to myself.” To outsiders, he appeared a carefree immortal—yet this idyll was tinged with melancholy.

The Intellectual Labor of Retreat: Zizhi Tongjian and Shu Yi

Despite his withdrawal, Sima Guang remained intellectually active. His monumental Zizhi Tongjian (资治通鉴), a comprehensive chronicle of Chinese history intended as a mirror for governance, was compiled during these years. But alongside this grand project, he produced a lesser-known yet revealing work: the Shu Yi (书仪), a manual of ritual propriety covering:
– Correspondence formats (公私文书): Standardized letters for public and private use.
– Rites of passage: Detailed protocols for capping (冠礼), weddings (婚礼), and funerals (丧葬祭祀礼).

For Sima Guang, these rituals were not empty formalities but the scaffolding of social order. As the Neo-Confucian Zhu Xi later noted, the Shu Yi skillfully blended classical precedents with practical adaptations, earning praise as “70% excellent.”

The Lion’s Roar: A Sudden Return to Politics

For four years, Sima Guang maintained his silence—until April 1074, when he broke his self-imposed exile with a searing memorial to Emperor Shenzong. The immediate trigger was a rare “Edict Seeking Criticism” (求言诏) issued by the emperor, who—rattled by droughts, financial strain, and Khitan threats—publicly questioned whether his policies had provoked cosmic displeasure.

Sima Guang’s response was withering. He accused Wang Anshi of:
1. Authoritarian governance: Suppressing dissent, packing offices with loyalists, and manipulating imperial audiences.
2. Economic harm: The Green Sprouts (青苗法), Market Exchange (市易法), and Militia (保甲法) policies had, he argued, devastated peasants and merchants alike.
3. Information control: Spies patrolled markets to arrest critics, while censors—now appointed by Wang—failed to report abuses.

His solution was radical: abolish all New Policies, restore traditional mechanisms of remonstrance, and reclaim imperial authority from Wang’s clique. The memorial, though fiery, arrived too late: Wang had already been dismissed the day before its delivery.

Legacy: The Limits of Solitude

Sima Guang’s Luoyang retreat exemplifies a recurring tension in Confucian thought: the scholar’s dual obligation to self-cultivation and public service. His Dule Yuan was both a sanctuary and a paradox—a space where private joy coexisted with unfulfilled political ambition.

Historically, his critique of Wang Anshi’s centralization foreshadowed later debates about governance. When Sima Guang briefly returned to power after Shenzong’s death, he repealed many New Policies—only for them to be revived posthumously. The Zizhi Tongjian, meanwhile, endured as a foundational historical text, while the Shu Yi influenced ritual practice for generations.

Yet the garden itself is the most poignant relic. Unlike Tao Yuanming’s Peach Blossom Spring, it was no utopia but a conscious compromise—a reminder that even the greatest minds could only reshape the world so far. As Sima Guang himself might have mused on his mountain-viewing terrace: the peaks remained distant, the path to them barred.