He built the Great Wall, to a great extent by means of convict labour, malefactors being condemned to long terms of penal servitude on the works.

His copper coinage was so uniformly good that the cowry disappeared altogether from commerce during his reign.

Above all things he desired to impart a fresh stimulus to literary effort, but he adopted singularly unfortunate means to secure this desirable end; for, listening to the insidious flattery of courtiers, he determined that literature should begin anew with his reign.

He therefore determined to destroy all existing books, finally deciding to spare those connected with three important departments of human knowledge: namely, (1) works which taught the people to plough, sow, reap, and provide food for the race; (2) works on the use of drugs and on the healing art; and (3) works on the various methods of foretelling the future which might lead men to act in accordance with, and not in opposition to, the eternal fitness of things as seen in the operations of Nature.

Stringent orders were issued accordingly, and many scholars were put to death for concealing books in the hope that the storm would blow over.