Mencius

Mencius (Mèngzǐ, “Master Meng”; personal name Mèng Kē) was the most important Confucian thinker after Confucius himself, honoured in China as the Second Sage. Living in the turbulent Warring States period, two generations after Confucius’ grandson, he travelled from court to court urging rulers to govern through benevolence rather than force. The book of his conversations, the Mencius, defends the thesis that human nature is good: every person is born with the “four sprouts” of the cardinal virtues, which grow if nourished and wither if neglected. It also contains the most radical political teaching of classical China — that the people matter more than the ruler, that Heaven’s mandate follows the people’s welfare, and that a tyrant may be killed without regicide. Made one of the Four Books by Zhu Xi in the twelfth century, the Mencius was memorised by every educated person in China, Korea and Japan for seven hundred years (Confucianism).

Life

Mencius was born around 372 BCE in the small state of Zou, near Confucius’ homeland of Lu in present-day Shandong. His father died when he was young; his mother became the model of the devoted Confucian mother. In the most famous story, she moved house three times: from beside a cemetery, where the boy played at funerals, to beside a market, where he played at haggling, and finally beside a school, where he imitated the scholars’ rituals. He is said to have studied with disciples of Confucius’ grandson Zisi.

As a teacher he travelled with a large retinue of disciples to the courts of the powerful states — Qi, Liang (Wei), Song, Teng — offering advice to kings who were waging the wars of conquest that would end, a century after his death, in the unification of China by Qin. He served for a time as a minister in Qi, but no ruler adopted his programme, and in old age he retired to teach. He died around 289 BCE. The Mencius, in seven books, was compiled by his disciples, perhaps with his participation.

Human nature is good

The central debate of the Mencius is with the philosopher Gaozi, who held that human nature is neither good nor bad, like a willow from which cups and bowls can be made, or like water that flows east or west as channels direct it. Mencius replied: “Human nature is good, just as water seeks low ground. There is no man who is not good; there is no water that does not flow downward.” Water can be made to splash over a man’s head by striking it, but that is not its nature; so with human beings who do evil.

His most famous argument is the child at the well (2A6): “No man is devoid of a heart sensitive to the suffering of others… Suppose a man were, all of a sudden, to see a young child on the verge of falling into a well. He would certainly be moved to compassion, not because he wanted to get in the good graces of the parents, nor because he wished to win praise from his fellow villagers or friends, nor yet because he disliked the cry of the child.” From this he concluded that whoever lacks such a heart “is not human”, and set out the doctrine of the four sprouts (sì duān):

• the heart of compassion is the sprout of benevolence (rén);
• the heart of shame is the sprout of righteousness (yì);
• the heart of deference is the sprout of propriety (lǐ);
• the heart of right and wrong is the sprout of wisdom (zhì).

“Man has these four sprouts just as he has four limbs.” If they are developed, they can “protect the four seas”; if neglected, a man cannot even serve his parents.

Why then do people do evil? Because the sprouts are not cultivated, or are destroyed by circumstances. In the parable of Ox Mountain (6A8), Mencius describes a mountain once covered with fine trees; because it was near a great city, the trees were cut down by axes, and the new shoots that grew each night were eaten by cattle and sheep, until the mountain was bare. People who see it now think it never had trees; but baldness is not the nature of the mountain. So the goodness of human beings is destroyed day after day by their own neglect and bad surroundings. In bad years, he observed, young men are mostly violent — not because Heaven gave them a different nature.

Moral cultivation must be patient. In the parable of the farmer of Song, a man worried that his crops were not growing pulled at the shoots to help them, and came home saying, “I’m exhausted; I’ve been helping the sprouts grow.” His son ran out and found them withered. One must neither neglect the sprouts nor force them. The aim is to “fully realise one’s heart” (jìn xīn): “He who fully realises his heart knows his nature; knowing his nature, he knows Heaven” (7A1). Through cultivation one develops a “flood-like qì” (hàorán zhī qì), a moral energy that fills the space between heaven and earth.

Benevolent government

Mencius’s politics follow from his ethics. Rulers too have the sprout of compassion; they need only extend it. He told King Xuan of Qi, who had spared an ox being led to sacrifice because he could not bear its frightened look, that the heart that pitied the ox was enough to make him a true king — if he would extend it to his people. A true king (wáng) rules by virtue, not force (bà, the hegemon); he lightens taxes and punishments, ensures that the people have enough land, food and leisure, and educates them. “When the people have a constant livelihood, they will have constant hearts.”

Above all, government exists for the people. “The people are of supreme importance; the altars of the gods of earth and grain come next; the ruler is of slight importance” (7B14). Mencius developed the ancient Zhou doctrine of the Mandate of Heaven (tiānmìng): Heaven confers the right to rule on the virtuous, and withdraws it from the wicked. How do we know Heaven’s will? Quoting the Book of Documents: “Heaven sees as my people see; Heaven hears as my people hear.” When King Xuan asked whether it was permissible for a subject to kill his sovereign, citing the overthrow of the tyrants Jie and Zhou, Mencius replied: “One who mutilates benevolence is a mutilator; one who mutilates righteousness is a wrecker; such a man is a mere fellow. I have heard of the execution of the mere fellow Zhou, but not of the murder of a sovereign” (1B8).

Against Mozi and Yang Zhu

Mencius saw himself as defending Confucius’ Way against two rival doctrines that “filled the world”: the egoism of Yang Zhu, who “would not pluck out a single hair to benefit the whole world”, and the impartial “universal love” of Mozi. “Yang’s ‘each for himself’ denies one’s prince; Mo’s ‘love without distinction’ denies one’s father. To deny one’s father and prince is to be a beast.” Confucian love is graded: it begins with family and extends outward, as ripples spread.

Legacy

For over a thousand years the Mencius was one Confucian text among many, and Xunzi‘s rival view that human nature is bad had its defenders. But the Tang scholar Han Yu and the Song Neo-Confucians made Mencius the true heir of Confucius; Zhu Xi included the Mencius among the Four Books, which became the basis of the civil service examinations from 1313 to 1905. Mencius’ innate moral knowledge inspired Wang Yangming; his teaching that the people come first has been invoked by reformers and critics of tyranny ever since.

In conversation

• The child at the well — the innate heart of compassion.
• Ox Mountain — goodness destroyed by neglect.
• “The people are of supreme importance” — the Mandate of Heaven.