Better known in China as “Master Meng” (Chinese: Mengzi), Mencius was a
fourth-century BCE Chinese thinker whose importance in the Confucian tradition
is second only to that of Confucius himself. In many ways, he played the role
of St. Paul to Confucius’ Jesus, interpreting the thought of the master for
subsequent ages while simultaneously impressing Confucius’ ideas with his own
philosophical stamp. He is most famous for his theory of human nature,
according to which all human beings share an innate goodness that either can be
cultivated through education and self-discipline or squandered through neglect
and negative influences, but never lost altogether. While it is not clear that
Mencius’ views prevailed in early Chinese philosophical circles, they eventually
won out after gaining the support of influential medieval commentators and
thinkers such as Zhu Xi (Chu Hsi, 1130-1200 CE) and Wang Yangming (1472-1529
CE). (See Romanization systems for Chinese terms.) Today contemporary
philosophical interest in evolutionary psychology and sociobiology has inspired
fresh appraisals of Mencius, while recent philological studies question the
coherence and authenticity of the text that bears his name. Mencius remains a
perennially attractive figure for those intrigued by moral psychology, of which
he was the foremost practitioner in early China.
1. The Mencius of
History
Like the historical Confucius, the historical Mencius is available only
through a text that, in its complete form at least, postdates his traditional lifetime
(372-289 BCE). The philological controversy surrounding the date and
composition of the text that bears his name is far less intense than that which
surrounds the Confucian Analects, however. Most scholars agree that the entire
Mencius was assembled by Mencius himself and his immediate disciples, perhaps
shortly after his death. The text records several encounters with various
rulers during Mencius' old age, which can be dated between 323 and 314 BCE,
making Mencius an active figure no later than the late fourth century BCE.
The other major source of information about Mencius' life is the
biography found in the Shiji (Records of the Grand Historian) of Sima Qian (c.
145-90 BCE), which states that he was a native of Zou (Tsou), a small state
near Confucius' home state of Lu in the Shandong peninsula of northeastern
China. He is said to have studied with Confucius' grandson, Zisi (Tzu-ssu),
although most modern scholars doubt this. He also is thought to have become a
minister of the state of Qi (Ch'i), which also was famous as the home of the
Jixia (Chi-hsia) Academy. The Jixia Academy was a kind of early Chinese
"think tank" sponsored the ruler of Qi that produced, among other
thinkers, Mencius' later opponent Xunzi (Hsun-tzu, 310-220 BCE).
Mencius was born in a period of Chinese history known as the Warring
States (403-221 BCE), during which various states competed violently against
one another for mastery of all of China, which once was unified under the Zhou
dynasty until its collapse, for all intents and purposes, in 771 BCE. It was a
brutal and turbulent era, which nonetheless gave rise to many brilliant
philosophical movements, including the Confucian tradition of which Mencius was
a foremost representative. The common intellectual and political problem that
Warring States thinkers hoped to solve was the problem of China's unification.
While no early Chinese thinker questioned the need for autocratic rule as an
instrument of unification, philosophers differed on whether and how the ruler
ought to consider moral limitations on power, traditional religious ceremonies
and obligations, and the welfare of his subjects.
Into the philosophical gap created by a lack of political unity and
increasing social mobility stepped members of the shi ("retainer" or
"knight") class, from which both Confucius and Mencius arose. As
feudal lords were defeated and disenfranchised in battle and the kings of the
various warring states began to rely on appointed administrators rather than
vassals to govern their territories, these shi became lordless anachronisms and
fell into genteel poverty and itinerancy. Their knowledge of aristocratic
traditions, however, helped them remain valuable to competing kings, who wished
to learn how to regain the unity imposed by the Zhou and who sought to emulate
the Zhou by patterning court rituals and other institutions after those of the
fallen dynasty.
Thus, a new role for shi as itinerant antiquarians emerged. In such
roles, shi found themselves in and out of office as the fortunes of various
patron states ebbed and flowed. Mencius' office in the state of Qi probably was
no more than an honorary title. While out of office, veteran shi might gather
small circles of disciples - young men from shi backgrounds who wished to
succeed in public life - and seek audiences with rulers who might give them an
opportunity to put their ideas into practice. The text of the Mencius claims to
record Mencius' teachings to his disciples as well as his dialogues with the
philosophers and rulers of his day.
2. The Mencius of the Text
Mencius inherits from Confucius a set of terms and a series of problems.
In general, one can say that where Confucius saw a unity of inner and outer -
in terms of li (ritual propriety), ren (co-humanity), and the junzi (profound
person)-xiaoren (small person) distinction - Mencius tends to privilege the
inner aspects of concepts, practices, and identities. For Mencius, the locus of
philosophical activity and self-cultivation is the xin (hsin), a term that
denotes both the chief organ of the circulatory system and the organ of
thought, and hence is translated here and in many other sources as
"heart-mind." Mencius' views of the divine, political organization,
human nature, and the path toward personal development all start and end in the
heart-mind.
Mencius' philosophical concerns, while scattered across the seven books
of the text that bears his name, demonstrate a high degree of consistency
unusual in early Chinese philosophical writing. They can be categorized into
four groups:
•Theodicy
•Government
•Human Nature
•Self-Cultivation
3. Theodicy
Again, as with Confucius, so too with Mencius. From late Zhou tradition,
Mencius inherited a great many religious sensibilities, including theistic
ones. For the early Chinese (c. 16th century BCE), the world was controlled by
an all-powerful deity, "The Lord on High" (Shangdi), to whom entreaties
were made in the first known Chinese texts, inscriptions found on animal bones
offered in divinatory sacrifice. As the Zhou polity emerged and triumphed over
the previous Shang tribal rule, Zhou apologists began to regard their deity,
Tian ("Sky" or “Heaven”) as synonymous with Shangdi, the deity of the
deposed Shang kings, and explained the decline of Shang and the rise of Zhou as
a consequence of a change in Tianming ("the mandate of Heaven").
Thus, theistic justifications for conquest and rulership were present very
early in Chinese history.
By the time of Mencius, the concept of Tian appears to have changed
slightly, taking on aspects of "fate" and “nature” as well as
"deity." For Confucius, Tian provided personal support and sanction
for his sense of historical mission, while at the same time prompting Job-like
anxiety during moments of ill fortune in which Tian seemed to have abandoned
him. Mencius' faith in Tian as the ultimate source of legitimate moral and
political authority is unshakeable. Like Confucius, he says that "Tian
does not speak - it simply reveals through deeds and affairs" (5A5). He
ascribes the virtues of ren (co-humanity), yi (rightness), li (ritual
propriety), zhi (wisdom), and sheng (sagehood) to Tian (7B24) and explicitly compares
the rule of the moral king to the rule of Tian (5A4).
Mencius thus shares with Confucius three assumptions about Tian as an
extrahuman, absolute power in the universe: (1) its alignment with moral
goodness, (2) its dependence on human agents to actualize its will, and (3) the
variable, unpredictable nature of its associations with mortal actors. To the
extent that Mencius is concerned with justifying the ways of Tian to humanity,
he tends to do so without questioning these three assumptions about the nature
of Tian, which are rooted deep in the Chinese past, as his views on government,
human nature, and self-cultivation will show.
4. Government
The dependence of Tian upon human agents to put its will into practice
helps account for the emphasis Mencius places on the satisfaction of the people
as an indicator of the ruler's moral right to power, and on the responsibility
of morally-minded ministers to depose an unworthy ruler. In a dialogue with
King Xuan of Qi (r. 319-301 BCE), Mencius says:
The people are to be valued most, the altars of the grain and the land
[traditional symbols of the vitality of the state] next, the ruler least. Hence
winning the favor of the common people you become Emperor…. (7B14)
When the ruler makes a serious mistake they admonish. If after repeated
admonishments he still will not listen, they depose him…. Do not think it
strange, Your Majesty. Your Majesty asked his servant a question, and his
servant dares not fail to answer it directly. (5B9)
Mencius' replies to King Xuan are bracingly direct, in fact, but he can
be coy. When the king asks whether it is true that various sage kings (Tang and
Wu) rebelled against and murdered their predecessors (Jie and Zhou), Mencius
answers that it is true. The king then asks:
"Is it permissible for a vassal to murder his lord?"
Mencius replied, "One who robs co-humanity [ren] you call a
`robber'; one who robs the right [yi] you call a `wrecker'; and one who robs
and wrecks you call an `outlaw.’ I have heard that [Wu] punished the outlaw Zhou
- I have not heard that he murdered his lord. (1B8)
In other words, Wu was morally justified in executing Zhou, because Zhou
had proven himself to be unworthy of the throne through his offenses against
ren and yi - the very qualities associated with the Confucian exemplar (junzi)
and his actions. This is an example of Mencius engaging in the
"rectification of names" (zhengming), an exercise that Confucius
considered to be prior to all other philosophical activity (Analects 13.3).
While Mencius endorses a "right of revolution," he is no
democrat. His ideal ruler is the sage-king, such as the legendary Shun, on
whose reign both divine sanction and popular approval conferred legitimacy:
When he was put in charge of sacrifices, the hundred gods delighted in
them which is Heaven accepting him. When he was put in charge of affairs, the
affairs were in order and the people satisfied with him, which is the people
accepting him. Heaven gave it [the state] to him; human beings gave it to him.
(5A5)
Mencius proposes various economic plans to his monarchical audiences,
but while he insists on particular strategies (such as dividing the land into
five-acre settlements planted with mulberry trees), he rejects the notion that
one should commit to an action primarily on the grounds that it will benefit
one, the state, or anything else. What matters about actions is whether they
are moral or not; the question of their benefit or cost is beside the point.
Here, Mencius reveals his antipathy for - and competition with – philosophers
who followed Mozi, a fifth-century BCE contemporary of Confucius who propounded
a utilitarian theory of value based on li (benefit):
Why must Your Majesty say "benefit" [li]? I have only the
co-humane [ren] and the right [yi]. (1A1)
In the end, Mencius is committed to a type of benevolent dictatorship,
which puts moral value before pragmatic value and in this way seeks to benefit
both ruler and subjects. The sage-kings of antiquity are a model, but one
cannot simply adopt their customs and institutions and expect to govern
effectively (4A1). Instead, one must emulate the sage-kings both in terms of
outer structures (good laws, wise policies, correct rituals) and in terms of inner
motivations (placing ren and yi first). Like Confucius, Mencius places an
enormous amount of confidence in the capacity of the ordinary person to respond
to an extraordinary ruler, so as to put the world in order. The question is,
how does Mencius account for this optimism in light of human nature?
5. Human Nature
Mencius is famous for claiming that human nature (renxing) is good. As
with most reductions of philosophical positions to bumper-sticker slogans, this
statement oversimplifies Mencius' position. In the text, Mencius takes a more
careful route in order to arrive at this view. Following A. C. Graham, one can
see his argument as having three elements: (1) a teleology, (2) a virtue
theory, and (3) a moral psychology.
6. Teleology
Mencius' basic assertion is that "everyone has a heart-mind which
feels for others." (2A6) As evidence, he makes two appeals: to experience,
and to reason. Appealing to experience, he says:
Supposing people see a child fall into a well - they all have a
heart-mind that is shocked and sympathetic. It is not for the sake of being on
good terms with the child's parents, and it is not for the sake of winning
praise for neighbors and friends, nor is it because they dislike the child's
noisy cry. (2A6)
It is important to point out here that Mencius says nothing about acting
on this automatic affective-cognitive response to suffering that he ascribes to
the bystanders at the well tragedy. It is merely the feeling that counts. Going
further and appealing to reason, Mencius argues:
Judging by this, without a heart-mind that sympathizes one is not human;
without a heart-mind aware of shame, one is not human; without a heart-mind
that defers to others, one is not human; and without a heart-mind that approves
and condemns, one is not human. (2A6)
Thus, Mencius makes an assertion about human beings - all have a
heart-mind that feels for others - and qualifies his assertion with appeals to
common experience and logical argument. This does little to distinguish him
from other early Chinese thinkers, who also noticed that human beings were
capable of altruism as well as selfishness. What remains is for him to explain
why other thinkers are incorrect when they ascribe positive evil to human
nature - that human beings are such that they actively seek to do wrong.
7. Virtue Theory
Mencius goes further and identifies the four basic qualities of the
heart-mind (sympathy, shame, deference, judgment) not only as distinguishing
characteristics of human beings - what makes the human being qua human being
really human - but also as the "sprouts" (duan) of the four cardinal
virtues:
A heart-mind that sympathizes is the sprout of co-humanity [ren]; a
heart-mind that is aware of shame is the sprout of rightness [yi]; a heart-mind
that defers to others is the sprout of ritual propriety [li]; a heart-mind that
approves and condemns is the sprout of wisdom [zhi]…. If anyone having the four
sprouts within himself knows how to develop them to the full, it is like fire
catching alight, or a spring as it first bursts through. If able to develop
them, he is able to protect the entire world; if unable, he is unable to serve
even his parents. (2A6)
Now the complexity of Mencius' seemingly simplistic position becomes
clearer. What makes us human is our feelings of commiseration for others'
suffering; what makes us virtuous - or, in Confucian parlance, junzi - is our
development of this inner potential. To paraphrase Irene Bloom on this point,
there is no sharp conflict between "nature" and “nurture” in Mencius;
biology and culture are co-dependent upon one another in the development of the
virtues. If our sprouts are left untended, we can be no more than merely human
- feeling sorrow at the suffering of another, but unable or unwilling to do
anything about it. If we tend our sprouts assiduously -- through education in
the classical texts, formation by ritual propriety, fulfillment of social
norms, etc. - we can not only avert the suffering of a few children in some
wells, but also bring about peace and justice in the entire world. This is the
basis of Mencius' appeal to King Hui of Liang (r. 370-319 BCE):
[The king] asked abruptly, "How shall the world be settled?"
"It will be settled by unification," I [Mencius] answered.
"Who will be able to unify it?"
"Someone without a taste for killing will be able to unify it…. Has
Your Majesty noticed rice shoots? If there is drought during the seventh and
eighth months, the shoots wither, but if dense clouds gather in the sky and a
torrent of rain falls, the shoots suddenly revive. When that happens, who could
stop it? … Should there be one without a taste for killing, the people will
crane their necks looking out for him. If that does happen, the people will go
over to him as water tends downwards, in a torrent - who could stop it? (1A6)
Mencius devotes some energy to arguing that "rightness" (yi)
is internal, rather than external, to human beings. He does so using examples
taken from that quintessentially Confucian arena of human relations, filial
piety (xiao). Comparing the rightness that manifests itself in filial piety to
such visceral activities as eating, drinking, and sexual intercourse, Mencius
points out that, just as one's attraction or repulsion regarding these
activities is determined by one's internal orientation (hunger, thirst, lust),
one's filial behavior is determined by one’s inner attitudes, as the following
imaginary dialogue with one of his opponents shows:
[Ask the opponent] "Which do you respect, your uncle or your
younger brother?" He will say, "My uncle.” “When your younger brother
is impersonating an ancestor at a sacrifice, then which do you respect?"
He will say, "My younger brother.” You ask him, “What has happened to your
respect for your uncle?" He will say, "It is because of the position
my younger brother occupies." (6A5)
In other words, the rightness that one manifests in filial piety is not
dependent on fixed, external categories, such as the status of one's younger
brother qua younger brother or one’s uncle qua one's uncle. If it were, one
always would show respect to one’s uncle and never to one's younger brother or
anyone else junior to oneself. But as it happens, shifts in external
circumstances can effect changes in status; one's younger brother can
temporarily assume the status of a very senior ancestor in the proper ritual
context, thus earning the respect ordinarily given to seniors and never shown
to juniors. For Mencius, this demonstrates that the internal orientation of the
agent (e.g., rightness) determines the moral value of given behaviors (e.g.,
filial piety).
Having made a teleological argument from the inborn potential of human
beings to the presumption of virtues that can be developed, Mencius then offers
his sketch of moral psychology - the structures within the human person that
make such potential identifiable and such development possible.
8. Moral Psychology
The primary function of Mencius' moral psychology is to explain how
moral failure is possible and how it can be avoided. As Antonio S. Cua has
noted, for Mencius, moral failure is the failure to develop one's xin
(heart-mind). In order to account for the moral mechanics of the xin, Mencius
offers a quasi-physiological theory involving qi (vital energy) - "a hard
thing to speak about" (2A2), part vapor, part fluid, found in the
atmosphere and in the human body, that regulates affective-cognitive processes
as well as one's general well-being. It is especially abundant outdoors at
night and in the early morning, which is why taking fresh air at these times
can act as a physical and spiritual tonic (6A8). When Mencius is asked about
his personal strengths, he says:
I know how to speak, and I am good at nourishing my flood-like qi. (2A2)
It is interesting to note the apparent link between powers of suasion -
essential for any itinerant Warring States shi, whether official or teacher -
and "flood-like qi." The goal of Mencian self-cultivation is to bring
one's qi, xin, and yan (words) together in a seamless blend of rightness (yi)
and ritual propriety (li). Mencius goes on to describe what he means by
"flood-like qi":
It is the sort of qi that is utmost in vastness, utmost in firmness. If,
by uprightness, you nourish it and do not interfere with it, it fills the space
between Heaven and Earth. It is the sort of qi that matches the right [yi] with
the Way [Dao]; without these, it starves. It is generated by the accumulation
of right [yi] - one cannot attain it by sporadic righteousness. If anything one
does fails to meet the standards of one's heart-mind, it starves. (2A2)
It is here that Mencius is at his most mystical, and recent scholarship
has suggested that he and his disciples may have practiced a form of meditative
discipline akin to yoga. Certainly, similar-sounding spiritual exercises are described
in other early Chinese texts, such as the Neiye ("Inner Training")
chapter of the Guanzi (Kuan-tzu, c. 4th-2nd centuries BCE). It also is at this
point that Mencius seems to depart most radically from what is known about the
historical Confucius' teachings. While faint glimpses of what may be ascetic
and meditative disciplines sometimes appear in the Analects, nowhere in the
text are there detailed discussions of nurturing one's qi such as can be found
in Mencius 2A2.
In spite of the mystical tone of this passage, however, all that the
text really says is that qi can be nurtured through regular acts of
"rightness" (yi). It goes on to say that qi flows from one's xin
(2A2), that one’s xin must undergo great discipline in order to produce
"flood-like qi" (6B15), and that a well-developed xin will manifest
itself in radiance that shines from one's qi into one’s face and general
appearance (7A21). In short, here is where Mencius' case for human nature seems
to leave philosophy and reasoned argumentation behind and step into the world
of ineffability and religious experience. There is no reason, of course, why
Mencius shouldn't take this step; as Alan K. L. Chan has pointed out, ethics
and spirituality are not mutually exclusive, either in the Mencius or elsewhere.
To sum up, both biology and culture are important for Mencian
self-cultivation, and so is Tian. "By fully developing one's heart-mind,
one knows one's nature, and by knowing one’s nature, one knows Heaven."
(7A1) One cannot help but begin with "a heart-mind that feels for
others," but the journey toward full humanity is hardly complete without
having taken any steps beyond one's birth. Guided by the examples of ancient
sages and the ritual forms and texts they have left behind, one starts to develop
one's heart-mind further by nurturing its qi through habitually doing what is
right, cultivating its "sprouts" into virtues, and bringing oneself
up and out from the merely human to that which Tian intends for one, which is
to become a sage. Nature is crucial, but so is nurture. Mencius' model of moral
psychology is both a "discovery" model (human nature is good) and a
"development" model (human nature can be made even better):
A person's surroundings transform his qi just as the food he eats
changes his body. (7A36)
9. Key Interpreters of Mencius
Detailed discussion of Mencius' key interpreters is best reserved for an
article on Confucian philosophy. Nonetheless, an outline of the most important
commentators and their philosophical trajectories is worth including here.
The two best known early interpreters of Mencius' thought - besides the
compilers of the Mencius themselves - are the Warring States philosophers Gaozi
(Kao-tzu, 300s BCE) and Xunzi (Hsun-tzu, 310-220 BCE). Gaozi, who is known only
from the Mencius, evidently knew Mencius personally, but Xunzi knew him only
retrospectively. Both disagreed with Mencius' views on human nature.
Gaozi's dialogue with Mencius on human nature can be found in book six
of the Mencius, in which both Mencius' disciples and Gaozi himself question him
on his points of disagreement with Gaozi. Gaozi - whom later Confucians
identified, probably anachronistically, as a Daoist -- offers multiple
hypotheses about human nature, each of which Mencius refutes in Socratic
fashion. Gaozi first argues that human nature is neither bad nor good, and
presents two organic metaphors for its moral neutrality: wood (which can be
carved into any object) and water (which can be made to flow east or west).
Challenging the carved wood metaphor, Mencius points out that in carving
wood into a cup or bowl, one violates the wood's nature, which is to become a
tree. Does one then violate a human being's nature by training him to be good?
No, he says, it is possible to violate a human being's nature by making him
bad, but his nature is to become good. As for the water metaphor, Mencius
rejects it by remarking that human nature flows to the good, just as water's
nature flows down. It is possible to make people bad, just as it is possible to
make water flow up - but neither is a natural process or end. "Although
man can be made to become bad, his nature remains as it was." (6A2)
Like Mencius, Xunzi claims to interpret Confucius' thought
authentically, but leavens it with his own contributions. While neither Gaozi
nor Mencius is willing to entertain the notion that human beings might
originally be evil, this is the cornerstone of Xunzi's position on human
nature. Against Mencius, Xunzi defines human nature as what is inborn and
unlearned, and then asks why education and ritual are necessary for Mencius if
people really are good by nature. Whereas Mencius claims that human beings are
originally good but argues for the necessity of self-cultivation, Xunzi claims
that human beings are originally bad but argues that they can be reformed, even
perfected, through self-cultivation. Also like Mencius, Xunzi sees li as the
key to the cultivation of renxing.
Although Xunzi condemns Mencius' arguments in no uncertain terms, when
one has risen above the smoke and din of the fray, one may see that the two
thinkers share many assumptions, including one that links each to Confucius:
the assumption that human beings can be transformed by participation in
traditional aesthetic, moral, and social disciplines. (Gaozi's metaphor of
carved wood, incidentally, is one of Xunzi's favorites.) Through an accident of
history, Mencius had no occasion to meet Xunzi and thus no opportunity to
refute his arguments, but if he had, he might have replied that Xunzi cannot
truly believe in the original depravity of human beings, or else he could not
place such great faith in the morally-transformative power of culture.
Later interpreters of Mencius' thought between the Tang and Ming
dynasties are often grouped together under the label of
"Neo-Confucianism." This term has no cognate in classical Chinese,
but is useful insofar as it unites several thinkers from disparate eras who
share common themes and concerns. Thinkers such as Zhang Zai (Chang Tsai,
1020-1077 CE), Zhu Xi (Chu Hsi, 1130-1200 CE) and Wang Yangming (1472-1529 CE),
while distinct from one another, agree on the primacy of Confucius as the
fountainhead of the Confucian tradition, share Mencius' understanding of human
beings as innately good, and revere the Mencius as one of the "Four
Books" -- authoritative textual sources for standards of ritual, moral,
and social propriety. Zhang Zai's interest in qi as the unifier of all things
surely must have been stimulated by Mencius' theories, while Wang Yangming’s search
for li (cosmic order or principle) in the heart-mind evokes Mencius 6A7:
"What do all heart-minds have in common? Li [cosmic order] and yi
[rightness]." Both thinkers also display a bent toward the cosmological
and metaphysical which disposes them toward the mysticism of Mencius 2A2, and
betrays the influence of Buddhism (of which Mencius knew nothing) and Daoism
(of which Mencius indicates little knowledge) on their thought.
During the Qing (Ch'ing) dynasty (1644-1911 CE), late Confucian thinkers
such as Dai Zhen (Tai Chen, 1724-1777 CE) developed critiques of Xunzi that
aimed at the vindication of Mencius' position on human nature. Kwong-loi Shun
has pointed out that Dai Zhen's defense of Mencius actually owes more to Xunzi
than to Mencius, particularly in regard to how Dai Zhen sees one's heart-mind
as learning to appreciate li (cosmic order) and yi (rightness), rather than
naturally taking pleasure in such things, as Mencius would have it. Although
Dai Zhen shares Mencius' view of the centrality of the heart-mind in moral
development, in the end, he does not ascribe to the heart-mind the same kind of
ethical directionality that Mencius finds there.
More recently, the philosophers Roger Ames and Donald Munro have
developed postmodern readings of Mencius that involve contemporary developments
such as process thought and evolutionary psychology. Although their
philosophical points of departure differ, both Ames and Munro share a distaste
for the prominence of Tian in Mencius' thought, and each seeks in his own way to
separate the "essence" of Mencian thought from the “dross.” For Ames,
the "essence" - although, as a postmodern thinker, he rejects any
notion of "essentialism" - is Mencius' “process” model of human
nature and the cosmos, while the "dross" is Mencius' understanding of
Tian as transcendent, which (in Ames' reading) undermines human agency. For
Munro, the "essence" is Mencius’ grounding ethics in inborn nature,
while the "dross" is Mencius' appeals to Tian as the author of that
inborn nature. Their work is an attempt to make Mencius not only intelligible,
but also valuable, to contemporary Westerners. At the same time, critics have
noted that much of the authentic Mencius may be discarded on the cutting room
floor in this process of reclaiming him for contemporary minds. One thinks of
David Nivison's warning to philosophers, past and present, not to indulge in
"wishful thinking" and excise or explain away what one does not wish
to see in the Mencius.
This cursory review of some important interpreters of Mencius' thought
illustrates a principle that ought to be followed by all who seek to
understanding Mencius' philosophical views: suspicion of the sources. Almost
all of our sources for reconstructing Mencius' views postdate him or come from
a hand other than his own, and thus all should be used with caution and with an
eye toward possible influences from outside of fourth century BCE China.
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