1 When he was heir apparent, Duke Wen of T’eng went on a journey to Ch’u. He went by way of Sung, and there stopped to see Mencius. Mencius told him that people are inherently good, and that he must strive to equal Yao and Shun.
When he returned from Ch’u, the duke again stopped to see Mencius, and Mencius said: “Do you doubt what I told you? There is one and only one Way. Ch’eng Chien said to Duke Ching of Ch’i: Those sage-emperors were men, and I am a man. Why should I be in awe of them? Yen Hui1 said: What kind of man was Shun, and what kind of man am I? If we’re devoted, we can be like him. And Kung-ming Yi said: Emperor Wen is my teacher. And how could he ever deceive me?
“Now if you evened out the borders, T’eng would measure fifty square miles: big enough to do great things. The Book of History says: If herbs don’t make your head swim, they won’t cure your illness.”
2 Wen was heir apparent when Duke Ting of T’eng passed away, so he said to Jan Yu: “Mencius once counseled me in Sung, and I’ve never forgotten a word of what he said. The death of a father is a time of great sorrow and responsibility. Before I do anything, I want you to go see Mencius and ask his advice.
Jan Yu went to see Mencius in Chou, and Mencius said: “This is a good thing. Mourning a parent’s death – that is when you face yourself utterly. Master Tseng said: In life, serve parents according to Ritual. In death, bury them according to Ritual. And then make offerings to them according to Ritual. Do this, and you can be called a worthy child.
“I’ve never studied the rituals of august lords. Still, I have heard something about such matters. The practice has been the same for three dynasties, and for everyone from the Son of Heaven to simple peasants: a mourning period of three years, clothes of plain cloth cut straight, meals of common porridge.”
When Jan Yu returned and reported what Mencius had said, Wen decided to observe a three-year mourning period. But the elders and the hundred officials protested: “This is not the way of the ancestral rulers in Lu, our homeland, nor is it the way of our own ancestral rulers. And to violate their practice – that is not for you to do. The Annals say: In mourning and sacrifice, follow the ways of your ancestors.”
“My way has also been handed down from the ancients,” said Wen.
Later, he said to Jan Yu: “In the past, I spent my time with horses and swords rather than books and teachers. And now the elders and the hundred officials all consider me lacking, so I’m afraid they won’t devote themselves to the great issues of our nation. Go for me, and seek the counsel of Mencius.”
So Jan Yu returned to Chou and inquired of Mencius.
“I see,” replied Mencius. “Why does he look to others for his answers? Confucius said:
When the sovereign dies – trust government to the prime minister, drink broth, wear a charcoal face dark as ink. Take your place and mourn, then none of the hundred officials will dare be without grief. Show others the way, for the commitments of leaders become the passions of followers. The noble-minded have the Integrity of wind, and little people the Integrity of grass. When the wind sweeps over grass, it bends.
So these things depend upon Wen alone.”
When Jan Yu returned and reported what Mencius had said, Wen said: “I see. Yes, these things do depend upon me and me alone.”
For five months he stayed in his mourning hut, issuing no proclamations or precepts. Soon both the hundred officials and the family could both say: “How wise!” And when it came time for the burial, people traveled from every corner of the land to watch. The sorrow in his face, the grief in his sobs: it was a great comfort to the other mourners.
3 Duke Wen of T’eng asked about governing his country, and Mencius said: “Never neglect the endeavors of the people. The Songs say:
We gather thatch-reeds by day,
and braid rope into the night.
We hurry to build field huts,
then begin planting the hundred grains.
This is how the people live: it’s their Way.
“With a constant livelihood, people’s minds are constant. Without a constant livelihood, people’s minds are never constant. And without constant minds, they wander loose and wild. They stop at nothing, and soon cross the law. Then, if you punish them accordingly, you’ve done nothing but snare the people in your own trap. And if they’re Humane, how can those in high position snare their people in traps?
“Therefore, the wise ruler practices humility, economy, and reverence toward his subjects. And he takes from the people only what is due him. Yang Hu said: If you cultivate wealth, you give up Humanity. If you cultivate Humanity, you give up wealth.
“In the Hsia Dynasty, each family had fifty acres and paid a personal tax. In the Shang, each family had seventy acres and paid a mutual tax. And in the Chou, each family had a hundred acres and paid a communal tax. But in fact, the people always paid one part in ten. Communal means everyone together, and mutual means mutual assistance.2
“Master Lung said: In administering the land, nothing is better than the mutual system, and nothing worse than the personal. The personal tax is based on harvest averages over a number of years. In good years, when there’s a wild abundance of rice and a heavy tax would hardly be noticed, little is taken. But in bad years, when the harvest isn’t worth the manure it grew from, the tax is exorbitant. When the people’s father and mother wears them out with worry, letting them work desperately all year long and then go into debt just to care for their parents, when he abandons young and old alike to gutters and ditches – how can he be called the people’s father and mother?
“As for ensuring a livelihood for descendants of worthy officials, that is already the practice in T’eng. But the Songs say:
When rain falls on our public land,
it also falls on our private land.
Only in the mutual system is there public land. These lines are about the Chou, so there’s no doubt that it too used the mutual system.
“Hsiang, hsü, hsüeh, and hsiao were established for the education of the people. Hsiang for nurturing, hsiao for educating, and hsü for archery: these are the names used for village schools. In the Hsia Dynasty they were called hsiao, in the Shang hsü, and in the Chou hsiang. For schools of advanced studies, all three dynasties used the name hsüeh. But the purpose of all alike was to illuminate the bonds of human community for the people. And when leaders themselves illuminate those bonds, the common people are full of tender affection. If a true emperor arose, he would have to come learn these things from you, and then you would be the teacher of emperors.
“The Songs say:
Chou may be an ancient country,
but its mandate is renewed again.
It was Emperor Wen who renewed it. If you devoted yourself, there’s no doubt you could renew your own nation in the same way.
Duke Wen sent Pi Chan to ask about the well-field system,3 and Mencius said: “Your sovereign is anxious to practice Humane government. He chose carefully when he sent you, so you must spare no effort.
“Humane government begins in settled boundaries. Unless settled boundaries are properly fixed, the well-fields won’t be divided equally, nor will the yield given for official salaries be fair. This is why tyrants and corrupt officials always avoid settled boundaries. But once settled boundaries are properly fixed, land shares and salary amounts are easily established.
“T’eng has very little territory. Still, you need both noble-minded leaders and peasants in the countryside. Without noble-minded leaders, who will foster order among the peasants? And without peasants, who will nurture the noble-minded leaders?
“In the countryside, tax people one ninth of their produce, according to the well-field system. In the capital, tax people one tenth of their income. From ministers down, officials should all have fifty acres for sacrificial offerings. And among the peasants, each extra man in a family should be given an additional twenty-five acres. People should never leave their village – not when they move their house and not when they die. If villagers sharing well-fields are friends in all things, help each other keep watch, and care for each other in illness – then the people will live in affection and harmony.
“Each square mile of land contains a well-field, and each well-field contains nine hundred acres. The central plot is public land. The eight families each own a hundred acres of private land, and together they cultivate the public land. Once the public land has been tended, they can turn to their own. This is what distinguishes peasants from officials.
“Such are the broad outlines. As for the details of making all this work well, the refinements and elaborations – that’s up to you and your sovereign.”
4 There was a man named Hsü Hsing who claimed to follow the Way of Shen Nung.4 He left Ch’u and journeyed to T’eng, where he went to the palace gate and said to Duke Wen: “I lived in a land far away, and there heard that you practice Humane government. I want to live under your rule, so I’ve come to ask for a piece of land.” The Duke granted Hsü Hsing’s request, and Hsü soon had dozens of disciples, all of whom wore sackcloth and earned their living by making sandals and weaving mats.
Ch’en Hsiang and his brother were disciples of Ch’en Liang. Leaving Sung with plows on their backs, they journeyed to T’eng and said: “We have heard that yours is the government of a sage, and we want to live under the rule of a sage.”
Ch’en Hsiang went to see Hsü Hsing one day, and was overjoyed. He abandoned his old teacher and took Hsü Hsing as his teacher. He later went to see Mencius and told him what Hsü Hsing had said: “The T’eng sovereign is truly wise and worthy, but he’s never learned of the Way. A wise and worthy sovereign earns his living by cultivating the land with his people. It’s during breakfast and dinner that he rules. But here, with all his granaries and treasuries, the duke wounds the people while pampering himself. So how can he be wise and worthy?”
“Does Master Hsü eat only the grain he himself has grown?” asked Mencius.
“Yes,” replied Ch’en Hsiang.
“And does Master Hsü wear only cloth he himself has woven?”
“No, but he wears only sackcloth.”
“Does Master Hsü wear a hat?”
“Yes.”
“What kind?”
“Raw silk.”
“Did he weave it himself?”
“No, he traded grain for it.”
“How is it Master Hsü doesn’t weave his own hat?”
“It would interfere with his farm work.”
“Does Master Hsü use metal and stoneware for cooking? And for plowing, does he use iron?”
“He does.”
“And does he make all these things himself?”
“No, he trades grain for them.”
“To trade grain for tools and implements doesn’t hurt potters and smithies,” said Mencius. “They trade their tools and implements for grain, and does that hurt farmers? Why doesn’t Master Hsü become a potter and smithy as well, so he himself can make everything his home needs? The markets of those who practice the hundred crafts are pure bedlam: why does he join in the confusion of barter and trade? How can he bear it?”
“You can’t practice a craft and be a farmer too.”
“Then how could someone govern all beneath Heaven and also be a farmer? There are the endeavors of great men, and the endeavors of small men. And whatever they need, the hundred crafts provide. If we all had to make things before we could use them, we’d all spend our lives running back and forth on the roads.
“And so it is said:
Some use their minds to work, and some use their muscles. Those who use their minds govern, and those who use their muscles are governed. Those who are governed provide for those who govern, and those who govern are provided for by those who are governed.
People throughout all beneath Heaven know this to be sound practice.
“In the time of Emperor Yao, things were still wild and unsettled in all beneath Heaven. Rivers burst their banks and floods raged across the world. Grasses and trees grew thick with abandon. Birds and animals roamed everywhere in herds and flocks. The five grains never grew tall. Birds and animals crowded people in: even the Middle Kingdom was a tangle of animal trails and bird tracks.
“It was Yao who worried about how to change all this. He fostered Shun so he could bring order to things. Shun assigned Yi to manage fire, and Yi set fire to the mountains and marshes, sending the birds and animals into hiding. Yü carved out the nine rivers. He cleared the Chi and T’a, and sent them flowing into the sea. He opened up the Ju and Han, banked up the Huai and Szu – and sent them all flowing into the Yangtze. Only then were the people of the Middle Kingdom able to grow food. To do this work, Yü spent eight years away from home and passed by his gate three times without entering. Even if he’d wanted to tend fields, how could he have done it?
“Hou Chi taught the ways of agriculture to the people, taught them how to plant the five grains. And when the five grains ripened, the people were well fed. But once people have plenty of food and warm clothes, they lead idle lives. This is their Way. Then, unless they’re taught, they’re hardly different from the birds and animals. The sage-emperor worried about this. He made Hsieh minister of education so the people would be taught about the bonds of human community: affection between father and son, Duty between sovereign and subject, responsibility between husband and wife, proper station between young and old, sincerity between friend and friend.
“Yao said:
Encourage them and reward them.
Help them and perfect them.
Support them and give them wings,
and reveal them to themselves.
Then you will bring Integrity alive in them.
If a sage ruler worries about his people like this, how could he have time for farming? Yao’s great worry was that he might not find a Shun. And Shun’s great worry was that he might not find a Yü or Kao Yao.5 If your great worry is tending your own hundred acres, you’re simply a farmer.
“To share your wealth is called generosity. To teach people about living nobly is called loyalty. To be worthy of all beneath Heaven is called Humanity – and so it’s easy to give all beneath Heaven away, but to be worthy of it is difficult indeed.
“Confucius said:
Great indeed was the rule of Yao! Heaven alone is truly majestic, and only Yao could equal it. He was boundless, so vast and boundless the people couldn’t even name him. And how majestic, how exalted and majestic a ruler Shun was: possessing all beneath Heaven as if it were nothing to him!
Ruling all beneath Heaven, didn’t Yao and Shun have enough to worry about? How could they worry about farm work too? I’ve heard of our ways converting barbarians into Chinese, but I’ve never heard of Chinese reverting into barbarians.
“Ch’en Liang is a product of Ch’u. But he admired the Way of Duke Chou and Confucius, so he came north to study in the Middle Kingdom. Among scholars from the north, none could better him. He could only be called a truly great scholar. You and your brother studied under him for dozens of years. Then he dies and you suddenly turn against him.
“After Confucius died and their three years of mourning were over, his disciples packed their things and prepared to return home. They went in and bowed to Adept Kung. They faced each other and wept until they’d all lost their voices. Only then did they leave for home. Adept Kung returned to the burial grounds, built a hut, and lived alone there for another three years before he finally set out for home.
“Eventually, Adept Hsia, Adept Chang and Adept Yu came to think Master Yu was as wise as the sage, and so wanted to study under him as they had under Confucius. They tried to convince Master Tseng to join them, but Tseng said: I could never do that. Rinsed clean by the Yangtze and Han rivers, bleached by the autumn sun – something shimmering so perfectly white is beyond compare.
“Now some tribesman with a twittering shrike’s tongue comes from the south condemning the Way of the ancient emperors, and you turn against your teacher and go to study with him. You’re nothing like Master Tseng. I’ve heard of leaving dark ravines to live in high trees, but I’ve never heard of leaving high trees to live in dark ravines.
“In the Songs, among the ‘Hymns of Lu,’ there’s a poem that speaks of
fighting down the wild tribes
and punishing Ch’u and Shu.
Duke Chou fought these people to rescue the Middle Kingdom, and now you want to study under them. Yours was a poor conversion indeed.
“In Master Hsü’s Way, market prices should all be the same. He claims that would end deceit, that even if children were sent to market, no one would cheat them. Cloth of the same length would bring the same price, whether it was cotton or silk. Bundled fiber of the same weight would bring the same price, whether it was hemp or silk. The five grains would bring the same price for the same measure, and shoes would all bring the same price for the same size.
“But inequality is the very nature of things. One thing may be two or five times as valuable as another, or perhaps ten or a hundred times, or even a thousand or ten thousand times. If you tried to make everything equal in value, confusion would reign in all beneath Heaven. If elegant shoes and workaday shoes brought the same price, who would bother to make elegant shoes? If we follow the Way of Master Hsü, we’ll lead each other into utter deceit. How could a nation be governed this way?”
5 A follower of Mo Tzu6 named Yi Chih wanted to go see Mencius, so he asked Hsü Pi to arrange a visit. Mencius said: “I would like very much to see him, but I’m quite ill. When I’m feeling better, I’ll go see him. He needn’t come here.”
Later, Yi Chih again tried to arrange a visit with Mencius, and Mencius said: “Now I can see him. But first I must straighten him out a little – for if he isn’t thinking straight, how can he see the Way?
“I have heard Adept Yi is a follower of Mo Tzu. In funerals, Mo Tzu’s school follows the Way of simplicity. And Adept Yi apparently thinks such simplicity can transform all beneath Heaven. So how can he himself denounce it instead of treasure it? He gave his parents lavish burials, but the principle of simplicity condemns that as a tawdry way of serving them.”
When Master Hsü told Adept Yi what Mencius had said, Adept Yi replied: “According to the Confucian Way, the ancients ruled as if watching over newborn children. What can such words mean if not that our love should be the same for everyone, even if it always begins with loving our parents?”
When Master Hsü told Mencius what Adept Yi had said, Mencius replied: “Does Adept Yi really believe we can love a neighbor’s newborn child the way we love our own brother’s child? The only time that’s true is when the newborn is crawling around a well and about to fall in, for the child doesn’t know any better. Heaven gives birth to all things: they have a single source. But Adept Yi insists they have two, that’s why he believes such things.
“Imagine people long ago who didn’t bury their parents. When their parents die, they toss them into gullies. Then one day they pass by and see them there: bodies eaten away by foxes and sucked dry by flies. They break into a sweat and can’t bear to look. That sweat on their faces isn’t a show for their neighbors: it’s a reflection of their deepest feelings. So when they go home and return with baskets and shovels to bury their parents, it’s because burying parents truly is the right thing, the Way for all worthy children and Humane people.”
When Master Hsü told Adept Yi what Mencius had said, Adept Yi grew pensive. Eventually he said: “I have now been taught.”