1 Chuang Pao went to see Mencius and said: “I went to see the emperor, and he told me that he loves music. I didn’t know what to say. Loving music – what do you think of that?”
“If the emperor truly loves music,” replied Mencius, “there may be hope for Ch’i.”
Some days later, Mencius went to see the emperor and asked: “Is it true you told Chuang that you love music?”
The emperor blushed and said: “I cannot claim to love the music of ancient emperors, only our own trifling music.”
“If you truly love music,” said Mencius, “there may be hope for Ch’i. And it makes no difference if it’s today’s music or the music of ancient times.”
“Please – can you tell me more about this?” asked the emperor.
“To enjoy music alone or to enjoy it with others,” began Mencius, “which is the greater pleasure?”
“With others, of course,” replied the emperor.
“And to enjoy music with a few or to enjoy it with many – which is the greater pleasure?”
“With many, of course.”
“Can I tell you about enjoyment? Suppose there was a performance of beautiful music here. Suppose the people heard the sound of their emperor’s bells and drums, pipes and flutes, and turning faces furrowed with worry toward each other, they said: Why does our emperor let his love of music make our lives so desperate – father and son, brother and brother, mother and child all separated and scattered apart? Suppose there was a hunt ranging through the fields here. Suppose the people heard the sound of your carriages and horses, saw the beauty of your banners and streamers, and turning faces furrowed with worry toward each other, they said: Why does our emperor let his love of hunting make our lives so desperate – father and son, brother and brother, mother and child all separated and scattered apart?
“There could be only one explanation for all this: never sharing pleasure with the people.
“But suppose there was a performance of beautiful music here. Suppose the people heard the sound of their emperor’s bells and drums, pipes and flutes, and turning happy faces full of delight toward each other, they said: Listen – they’re making music, so our emperor must be feeling fine! And suppose there was a hunt ranging through the fields here. Suppose the people heard the sound of your carriages and horses, saw the beauty of your banners and streamers, and turning happy faces full of delight toward each other, they said: Look – they’re out hunting, so our emperor must be feeling fine!
“There could be only one explanation for all this: sharing pleasure with the people. Sharing pleasure with the people – that’s what makes an emperor an emperor.”
2 Emperor Hsüan of Ch’i asked: “Is it true that Emperor Wen’s park covered seventy square miles?”
“The Chronicles say it did,” replied Mencius.
“Was it really so vast?”
“To the people it seemed small.”
“My park covers only forty square miles, and yet the people consider it huge,” said the emperor. “How can this be?”
“Emperor Wen’s park may have covered seventy square miles, but it was open to the people: they gathered dry grasses for their fires there, they hunted pheasants and rabbits there. He shared it with the people, so is it any wonder the people considered it small?
“When I first came to the borders of your nation, I asked about the great prohibitions of this land. Only then did I dare enter. I was told that there is a park covering forty square miles, and that anyone who kills a deer there is punished as if they’d killed a person. So this park is a forty-square-mile trap set in the middle of the country. Is it any wonder the people consider it huge?”
3 Emperor Hsüan of Ch’i asked: “Is there a Way1 to foster good relations with neighboring countries?”
“There is,” replied Mencius. “Only a person of great Humanity can use the large to serve the small. So it is that Emperor T’ang served Ko and Emperor Wen served the K’un tribes. Only a person of great wisdom can use the small to serve the large. So it is that Emperor T’ai2 served the Hsün-yü tribes and Kou Chien served the nation of Wu.
“Whoever uses the large to serve the small delights in Heaven. Whoever uses the small to serve the large fears Heaven. If you delight in Heaven, you nurture all beneath Heaven. If you fear Heaven, you nurture your own nation. The Songs say:
Fearing august Heaven’s majesty,
we nurture our nation forever.”
“Your words are great indeed,” said the emperor. “But I have a weakness: I love valor.”
“Then let it not be small valor that you love. That is to clutch your sword and glare angrily, shouting How dare he oppose me? It’s such coarse valor – at best useful only against a lone opponent. Let it be great valor that you love.
“The Songs say:
Majestic in his fury and wrath,
the emperor marshalled his forces.
He met the invaders in Chü
and secured Chou’s prosperity,
fulfilling all beneath Heaven.
Such is the valor of Emperor Wen. In a single act of wrath, he brought peace to the people throughout all beneath Heaven.
“The Book of History says: Heaven sent down people. It created a sovereign for them and made him their teacher, saying ‘You must help the Celestial Lord3 show his love for them. To every corner of the land, I will judge those who offend and those who do not. In all beneath Heaven, who will dare cast their ambition against my purpose?’
“There was only one man causing trouble in all beneath Heaven, but Emperor Wu4 took it as a personal disgrace. Such is the valor of Emperor Wu. In a single act of wrath, he too brought peace to the people throughout all beneath Heaven.
“Now if you too, in a single act of wrath, bring peace to the people throughout all beneath Heaven, the people’s only fear will be that your love of valor may end.”
4 Emperor Hsüan of Ch’i received Mencius in the Snow Palace and said: “Does the sage also enjoy such pleasures?”
“Yes,” replied Mencius. “Denied such pleasures, there are those who would malign their sovereign. To malign a sovereign because you’re denied such pleasures is wrong. But when a sovereign fails to share such pleasures with his people – that too is wrong. If you delight in the people’s pleasure, the people will delight in your pleasure. If you worry over the people’s troubles, the people will worry over your troubles. Make all beneath Heaven your delight and all beneath Heaven your worry – then how can you fail to be a true emperor?
“Long ago, Duke Ching of Ch’i asked his prime minister, Lord Yen: I long to visit Chuan-fu Mountain and Ch’ao-wu Mountain, then travel along the coastline south to Lang-yeh Mountain. What can I do to make my travels rival those of the ancient emperors?
“What a fine question, replied Lord Yen. When the Son of Heaven visited the august lords, it was called an Inspection Tour because he was inspecting the territories under their care. And when the august lords went to the Son of Heaven’s court, it was called a Duty Report because they reported on how they had carried out their duties. These things were not done without a purpose. In spring, it was to inspect the planting and provide whatever the farmers lacked. And in autumn, it was to inspect the harvest and help whoever didn’t
bring in enough. In the Hsia Dynasty there was a saying:
If our emperor doesn’t journey
where will we find rest?
If our emperor doesn’t tour,
where will we find help?
Each journey, each tour,
he’s a model for august lords.
“It’s not like that anymore. Now
marching armies demand supplies,
so there’s no food for the hungry
and no rest for the work-weary.
Looking away, voices full of hate,
the people turn to shadowy crime.
Defying the mandate, rulers abuse us.
They drift, awash in food and drink.
Adrift, unbridled, wild, wanton:
among lords this means trouble.
To follow the drift downstream, all thought of return gone: that is called adrift. To follow the drift upstream, all thought of return gone: that is called unbridled. To follow animals, all moderation gone: that is called wild. To wallow in wine, all moderation gone: that is called wanton. The early emperors never indulged in pleasures adrift and unbridled, or actions wild and wanton.
“It is for you to choose your path.
“Duke Ching was overjoyed. He issued great proclamations throughout the land, then he went to live in a hut outside the city. He opened the granaries to those in need, and summoned his Grand Music-master, saying: Compose for me the joyous harmony of sovereign and subject. Hence the Chih Shao and Chüeh Shao, with lyrics saying: How can guiding the sovereign be a crime? To guide the sovereign is to love the sovereign.”
5 Emperor Hsüan of Ch’i said: “Since I never use it, people all tell me I should tear down the Palace of Light. Should I tear it down or not?”
“It’s the Palace of Light because it’s the palace of an emperor,” replied Mencius. “If you want to govern as a true emperor, don’t tear it down.”
“To govern as a true emperor – could you explain this for me?”
“In ancient times, when Emperor Wen ruled Ch’i5 – farmers were taxed one part in nine, descendants of worthy officials were insured a livelihood, there were inspections at border crossings and markets but no taxes, fish traps were not regulated, criminals were punished but not their families.
“Old men without wives we call widowers. Old women without husbands we call widows. Old people without children we call loners. Children without fathers we call orphans. These four kinds of people – they are the forsaken ones of this world. They have no one to turn to. When Emperor Wen’s rule spread Humanity throughout the land, he put these four kinds of people above all else. The Songs say:
While the rich manage in fine fashion,
the forsaken nurture no hope, no hope.
“Your words are fine indeed,” said the emperor.
“You call them fine, but in practice you ignore them. Why is that?”
“I have a weakness,” replied the emperor. “I love the bounty of wealth.”
“In ancient times, Emperor Kung Liu6 loved the bounty of wealth,” said Mencius. “But the Songs say:
He filled granaries with stores,
bundled supplies and provisions
into sacks and well-stocked bags.
His splendor spreading repose,
he kept archers in plain sight,
flourished spear, shield, and ax.
Only then did his march begin.
Hence, those who stayed had granaries full of stores, and those who went had bags well stocked. Only then could he begin his march to settle a homeland. If you love the bounty of wealth, let it be the people’s love too – then how will it keep you from being a true emperor?”
“I have another weakness,” said the emperor. “I love beauty and passion.”
“In ancient times,” replied Mencius, “Emperor T’ai also loved beauty and passion. He adored the palace courtesans. But the Songs say:
Our true old father T’ai
came early on his horse,
skirting a western river
to reach Ch’i Mountain,
and with Lady Chiang
founded our homeland.
At that time, women never languished without husbands, nor men without wives. If you love beauty and passion – let it be the people’s love too, then how will it keep you from being a true emperor?”
6 Mencius said to Emperor Hsüan of Ch’i: “Suppose one of your ministers entrusts his family to the care of a friend and then leaves on a journey to Ch’u. When he returns, he finds that the friend abandoned his family to hunger and cold. What should be done?”
“End the friendship,” replied the emperor.
“And if a chief judge can’t govern his court – what should be done?”
“Turn him out,” pronounced the emperor.
“And if someone can’t govern this land stretching out to the four borderlands – what then?”
The emperor suddenly turned to his attendants and spoke of other things.
7 Mencius went to see Emperor Hsüan of Ch’i and said: “If a nation is called ancient, it isn’t because the trees there are tall. It’s because the ministers there are descended from generations of high officials. But there’s no sense of old family bonds between you and your ministers. Those you promote one day are gone the next, and you hardly notice.”
“But how can I recognize mediocrity and avoid it?” asked the emperor.
“To advance only the wise,” replied Mencius, “a sovereign often promotes the common above the august, the distant above the familial. In deciding who is worthy, always remain cautious. When your attendants all say someone is wise, that doesn’t make him worthy. When your high ministers all say someone is wise, that doesn’t make him worthy. When everyone in the country says someone is wise, investigate thoroughly. If you find that he is indeed wise and worthy, take him into your government.
“When your attendants all say someone is unworthy, don’t listen. When your high ministers all say someone is unworthy, don’t listen. When everyone in the country says someone is unworthy, investigate thoroughly. If you find that he is indeed unworthy, turn him out.
“When your attendants all say someone deserves death, don’t listen. When your high ministers all say someone deserves death, don’t listen. When everyone in the country says someone deserves death, investigate thoroughly. If you find that he does indeed deserve death, put him to death. Then it will be said The entire country put him to death.
“If it’s like this in your country, you’ve truly become mother and father to the people.”
8 Emperor Hsüan of Ch’i asked: “Is it true that Emperor T’ang banished the tyrant Chieh, and Emperor Wu overthrew the tyrant Chou?”7
“Yes, according to the histories,” replied Mencius.
“So is the murder of a sovereign acceptable?”
“A thief of Humanity is called a thief,” replied Mencius. “A thief of Duty is called a felon. Someone who’s both a thief and a felon is called a commoner. I’ve heard of the commoner Chou’s punishment, but I’ve never heard of a sovereign’s murder.”
9 Talking with Emperor Hsüan of Ch’i, Mencius said: “To build a grand home, you must send the master carpenter in search of huge trees. If he finds them, you’ll be pleased and consider him truly capable. But if the workers then cut them into small pieces, you’ll be angry and consider them truly inept.
“When grown, we’re anxious to put our youthful learning to use. But what if an emperor says Put aside what you’ve learned and obey me? If you have a piece of jade, even if it’s worth ten thousand yi in gold, you need to trust a jade-carver to cut and polish it for you. And in governing the nation – if you say Put aside what you’ve learned and obey me, how is that any different from trying to teach the jade-carver how to cut jade?”
10 After Ch’i invaded the nation of Yen and conquered it,8 Emperor Hsüan said: “Some say I shouldn’t annex Yen, and some say I should. For a nation of ten thousand war-chariots to conquer a nation of ten thousand war-chariots in only fifty days – human strength alone cannot perform such feats. If I don’t annex Yen, Heaven will surely be offended and send down calamities. But if I do – what then?”
“If annexation will please the Yen people,” replied Mencius, “then do it. There are examples of this among the ancients: Emperor Wu, for instance. And if annexation won’t please the Yen people, then don’t do it. There are also examples of this among the ancients: Emperor Wen, for instance.
“If a nation of ten thousand war-chariots invades another nation of ten thousand war-chariots, and the invader is welcomed with baskets of food and jars of wine, there can be only one reason: the people are fleeing fire and flood. But if the flood just gets deeper and the fire hotter, they’ll no doubt turn again.”
11 When Ch’i invaded Yen and annexed it, the other emperors began plotting Yen’s rescue.
Emperor Hsüan said: “The other emperors are planning to invade. What shall I do?”
“I’ve heard of having seventy square miles and ruling all beneath Heaven,” replied Mencius. “Emperor T’ang is an example. But I’ve never heard of ruling a thousand square miles and cowering in fear of others.
“The Book of History says: Emperor T’ang’s expeditions began in Ko. There he gained the trust of all beneath Heaven – so when he marched east, the western tribes complained. And when he marched south, the northern tribes complained: Why does he leave us for last? People watched for him the way they watched for rain in the midst of a great drought. When he came, they went to market unhindered again and tended their fields without interference. He punished the rulers and comforted the people, like rain falling in its season. And so, a great joy rose among the people. The Book of History also says: We’re waiting for our lord: his coming will bring us back to life.
“Now the Yen emperor tyrannized his people, so you attacked him. The people thought they were being rescued from fire and flood, so they welcomed you with baskets of food and jars of wine. How can you justify killing elders and taking the young captive, tearing down temples and stealing sacred vessels? The power of Ch’i was already feared throughout all beneath Heaven, and now you’ve doubled your territory without making your government Humane. No wonder all beneath Heaven is up in arms.
“Hurry! Send out orders to release old and young, to leave the sacred vessels where they are. Consult the people of Yen, appoint a new ruler, and then leave. There’s still time to prevent this invasion.”
12 There was a battle on the border between Chou and Lu.
“I lost thirty-three officials,” complained Duke Mu of Chou, “but not one of my people died. There are too many to punish. But if I don’t punish them, I’ll be condoning what they did: watching their leaders die without lifting a finger to help. What can I do?”
“In years of calamity and failed harvests,” replied Mencius, “how many thousands of your people suffered – young and old alike abandoned to gutters and ditches, the strong scattered to every corner of the land? Meanwhile, your granaries were full and your storehouses well stocked. Your officers kept all this from you, thus disparaging their lord and ravaging their people.
“Master Tseng9 said: Beware! Beware! Whatever you give out is given back. It was only now that the people had a chance to give back what you’d given them. You mustn’t blame them. If you governed with Humanity, the people would love your officers and die willingly to protect them.”
13 Duke Wen of T’eng said: “T’eng is a small nation wedged in between two powerful neighbors. Should I pay court to Ch’i or Ch’u?”
“This kind of thing is beyond me,” replied Mencius. “But if you need an answer, I have one suggestion: make your moats deeper and your city walls stronger, then stand beside your people to defend your land. If they would rather die than desert you, your country will be safe.”
14 Duke Wen of T’eng said: “The Ch’i army is fortifying Hsüeh. I’m terribly worried. What shall I do?”
“In ancient times,” replied Mencius, “Emperor T’ai lived in Pin. But the Ti tribes kept attacking, so he went to settle below Ch’i Mountain.10 It wasn’t something he wanted: he had no choice. If your actions are noble, true emperors will rise again among the children and grandchildren of future generations. Your own success depends upon Heaven alone, but whatever you make and hand down – that will continue.
“What can you possibly do about Ch’i? Just devote yourself to noble actions, and let come what will.”
15 Duke Wen of T’eng said: “T’eng is a small nation. We’ll run ourselves into the ground paying these great neighbors homage, and still never escape them. What shall I do?”
“In ancient times,” replied Mencius, “Emperor T’ai lived in Pin. But the Ti tribes kept attacking. He paid them homage with furs and silks but didn’t escape them. He paid them homage with horses and hounds but didn’t escape them. He paid them homage with pearls and jade but still didn’t escape them. Finally, he called the elders together and said: What the Ti want is my land. I have heard that the noble-minded will not use what nurtures the people to harm the people. Living without a ruler seems innocuous enough, my friends, so I’ve decided to leave you. Setting out from Pin, he crossed the Liang Mountains, founded a new capital below Ch’i Mountain, and there he settled.
“What Humanity! cried out the people of Pin. We can’t lose him!
“Some people followed him like crowds flocking to market. Others said: This is the land our ancestors watched over. It isn’t a question of what we want. We may die defending it, but we can’t abandon this land.
“Choose between these two ways, and you will choose well.”
16 Duke P’ing of Lu was about to leave the palace when a trusted advisor named Tsang Ts’ang said: “When you leave you always tell your officials where you’re going, my Lord. But now your horses are harnessed and your carriage ready, and you haven’t told anyone where you’re going. May I ask?”
“I’m going to see Mencius.”
“Incredible!” exclaimed Tsang. “How could you debase yourself by going to visit such a commoner, my Lord? Is it because you think he’s a sage? A sage is the source of Ritual and Duty. But this Mencius gave his mother a more lavish funeral than his father. You mustn’t go see him.”
“Yes, perhaps you’re right.”
Later, Adept Yüeh Cheng entered and said: “Why haven’t you gone to see Mencius, my Lord?”
“Because someone told me that Mencius gave his mother a more lavish funeral than his father,” replied the duke.
“Incredible! Why do you say it was more lavish? Is it because he mourned his father as a scholar should and mourned his mother as a state minister should? Is it because he made offerings in three vessels for his father and in five for his mother?”
“No, I was thinking about the beauty of his mother’s coffin and shroud.”
“But it isn’t that one was more lavish than the other,” said Yüeh Cheng. “He just had more money when his mother died.”
Later, Yüeh Cheng went to see Mencius and said: “I told Duke P’ing about you, and he was going to come see you. But the duke has a trusted advisor named Tsang Ts’ang, and he talked him out of it.”
“If we go, it’s because something urges us on,” commented Mencius. “And if we stay, it’s because something holds us back. Going and staying – even these are matters beyond our control. It was Heaven that kept me from meeting the duke. This child of the Tsang family – how could he have done such a thing?”