An Interpretation and Inquiry into Mencius' "Wood of Ox Mountain" Chapter

—An In-Depth Study of Pre-Qin Theories of Human Nature, Cultivation of Heart and Disposition, and Cosmology

By: The Xuanji Editorial Department

General Preface

Among the seven chapters of the Mencius, the chapter discussing the heart and disposition (xinxing) is most incisively treated in Gaozi. And within the first book of Gaozi, the chapter discussing the heart and disposition is nowhere deeper than the "Wood of Ox Mountain" section. This chapter employs the analogy of mountain wood, the archetype of the axe and adze, the parallel of cattle and sheep, the evidence of "night energy" (yeqi), and the verification through daylight actions. It proceeds layer by layer, connecting ring after ring, exhaustively detailing the principles governing the human original heart (benxin), innate knowledge (liangzhi), sprouts of goodness (shanduan), their abandonment (fangshi), their restraint and demise (guwang), and their nourishment and preservation (yangcun). It can truly be considered the general outline of Mencius’s theory of heart/disposition and the core of his doctrine of the inherent goodness of human nature (xing shan).

However, from ancient times to the present, many have read this chapter, but few have truly penetrated its profound core. Why$1 Because what this chapter touches upon involves more than can be encapsulated by the mere phrase "nature is good." It contains the most fundamental questions of pre-Qin philosophy: What exactly is human nature$2 What is the relationship between the heart (xin) and nature (xing)$3 Where lies the source of goodness$4 What is the origin of evil$5 How should the effort of cultivation (gongfu) commence$6 How is the connectivity between the Heavenly Way (Tiandao) and the Human Way (Rendao) made possible$7 These are the focal points of contention among the various schools of the Hundred Schools of Thought in the pre-Qin era, and also the foundation for the ancient sage-kings to govern the world.

This article intends to proceed from the pre-Qin and ancient perspectives, taking Mencius’s "Wood of Ox Mountain" chapter as the core text, widely citing materials from the Book of Documents (Shangshu), Book of Songs (Shijing), I Ching (Zhouyi), Analects (Lunyu), Zuo Zhuan, Guoyu, Book of Rites (Liji), Great Learning (Daxue), Doctrine of the Mean (Zhongyong), Xunzi, Laozi, Zhuangzi, Guanzi, Lüshi Chunqiu, as well as the annotations of Zhao Qi and the theories of Dong Zhongshu from the Qin-Han period. We aim for a comprehensive, in-depth, and meticulous interpretation and inquiry. The entire essay strives to ask "Why$8" repeatedly, seeking answers from within the internal system of pre-Qin thought; it seeks to combine historical examples and the interpretations of earlier sages so that the discussion does not become superficial.

Part I: Close Reading and Sentence-by-Sentence Explication

Chapter 1: "The Wood of Ox Mountain was once luxuriant" — The Primal Imagery of the Mountain Wood Analogy

Section 1.1 Investigation of Ox Mountain: Which Mountain$9 Which Place$10 Why the Analogy$11

Mencius begins by stating, "The wood of Ox Mountain was once luxuriant" (Niushan zhi mu chang mei yi). This single sentence, seemingly plain narration, actually contains profound meaning.

Firstly, where is Ox Mountain$12 Zhao Qi’s annotation in the Mencius Chapters and Sentences states: "Ox Mountain is a mountain in Qi. It is located south of Linzi." Linzi was the capital city of the State of Qi, a great, powerful, and wealthy state during the Spring and Autumn and Warring States periods. The Zuo Zhuan (25th year of Duke Xiang) records the Cui Zhu Rebellion, "The wife of Duke Tang of Qi was the sister of Dongguo Yan," demonstrating the affairs of Qi. The prosperity of Linzi, the Qi capital, is recorded in the Strategies of the Warring States (Zhanguo Ce, Qi I) where Su Qin stated: "The thoroughfares of Linzi were so choked with chariots that their hubs touched, and people's shoulders brushed so closely they formed awnings, and raising sleeves formed canopies, sweat poured down like rain." This illustrates the extreme density of population and the flourishing of the metropolis.

Ox Mountain lies south of Linzi, near the suburb of a great capital—this is its unique geographical position. Why did Mencius choose Ox Mountain and not another mountain$13 Why not Mount Tai, Mount Yi, or Mount Kuaiji, but specifically Ox Mountain$14 There must be a deep meaning here.

First, Ox Mountain is "near the suburb of a great capital" (jiao yu da guo ye). "Suburb" (jiao) refers to the area outside the city walls. The Rites of Zhou (Zhouli, Office of the Earth Officials, Zaishi) states: "The centralized land is assigned to the core of the state, the orchards to the garden lands, and the residential, official, and merchant fields to the near suburbs." The suburb is the boundary between the urban settlement and the wilderness. Ox Mountain occupied this very boundary, being close to human habitation yet belonging to the forest. This is the fundamental reason for its "being cut down"—it was too close to people.

Why would being too close lead to being cut down$15 Because human desires are most directly exerted upon the nearest objects. When people need timber or firewood or land, they first take from what is near, and only then extend to what is far. This parallels the human innate conscience (liangxin): the aspects of goodness most easily eroded by daily desires and external temptations are precisely those surface-level sprouts of goodness. Mencius uses the felling of Ox Mountain, "near the suburb of a great capital," as an analogy, subtly implying that the human conscience is surrounded by the allure of sound, sight, profit, and desire, and is subject to erosion day after day.

Second, the name of the mountain is "Ox" (Niu). Why is it called "Ox Mountain"$16 Although there is no definite scholarly confirmation, perhaps the mountain resembles an ox, or perhaps it was a place where oxen were grazed. Regardless of the reason, the image of the "ox" appears later in the passage—"cattle and sheep then come to graze upon it" (niu yang you cong er mu zhi). Is this a deliberate choice by Mencius$17 The name itself implies a fate of "being grazed upon," just as the human conscience inherently faces the danger of being "restrained and extinguished" (guzhi).

Third, the phrase "was once luxuriant" (chang mei yi) is crucial. "Chang" means "formerly" or "once was." "Mei" means lush and abundant. "Once luxuriant" states that it was originally lush and beautiful, but is no longer so. This single word introduces a temporal dimension, establishing a comparative tension between "past beauty" and "present ugliness." This precisely mirrors the basic logical structure of Mencius's theory of innate goodness: human nature is inherently good ("once luxuriant"), and the present state of not-goodness is not the nature of the thing itself, but the result of subsequent conditioning.

Section 1.2 The Symbolism of "Wood": Flora Imagery in Pre-Qin Literature

In pre-Qin texts, using flora to symbolize humanity and forests to symbolize virtue was an extremely common technique. Only by understanding this background can one deeply grasp Mencius’s analogy.

The Book of Songs, Minor Odes (Xiaoya), states: "Like bamboo clustered densely, like pine flourishing abundantly" (Ru zhu bao yi, ru song mao yi). This uses the clustering of bamboo and the abundance of pine to symbolize the prosperity of a lineage.

The Book of Songs, Odes of Zhou and the South (Zhou Nan), states: "The peach tree is young and tender, its blossoms brightly glowing. When this young lady marries, she will harmonize her household" (Tao zhi yao yao, zhuo zhuo qi hua. Zhi zi yu gui, yi qi shi jia). This uses the splendor of peach blossoms to symbolize a woman’s virtue and appearance.

The Book of Songs, Odes of Zhou and the North (Weifeng), states: "Gazing at that thicket by the Qi River, the green bamboo sways gracefully. There is a distinguished gentleman, refined as if carved and polished, as if ground and worn smooth" (Zhan bi Qi Ao, lü zhu yi yi. You fei junzi, ru qie ru cuo, ru zhuo ru mo). This uses the graceful beauty of green bamboo to symbolize the gentleman’s literary virtue.

The Book of Songs, Minor Odes (Xiaoya), states: "One must be respectful toward the mulberry and the hackberry trees, as toward father and mother. I gaze upon no one but my father, I lean on no one but my mother" (Wei sang yu zi, bi gong jing zhi. Mi zhan fei fu, mi yi fei mu). This uses the mulberry and hackberry trees to symbolize the grace of parents.

The Book of Songs, Major Odes (Daya), states: "The kite soars to the heavens, the fish leaps in the deep pools. How cheerful and amiable is this gentleman! When will he fully embody humanity$18" (Yuan fei li tian, yu yue yu yuan. Qi di junzi, xia bu zuo ren$19). Although this does not directly use trees as a symbol, the idea of "embodying humanity" (zuo ren) is analogous to cultivating plants.

More importantly, the words in the Guanzi (Quanshu): "A plan for one year is not as good as planting grain; a plan for ten years is not as good as planting trees; a plan for a lifetime is not as good as cultivating people. A single harvest comes from planting grain; ten harvests come from planting trees; a hundred harvests come from cultivating people." This directly equates "cultivating people" (shu ren) with "planting trees" (shu mu), aligning perfectly with Mencius’s logic of using mountain wood to symbolize the human heart/mind.

Why did the pre-Qin people so frequently use flora to symbolize people$20 This is likely closely related to the survival experiences of early ancestors. Living amidst mountains and forests, they had the most intuitive experience of the flourishing, wilting, growth, and decay of vegetation. The growth of flora requires soil, dew, and rain—this is like human growth requiring instruction, environment, and nurturing. The decay of flora is due to axes, drought, or insect infestation—this is like human moral decline due to material desires, bad company, or tyrannical rule. This "analogy between lives" is one of the simplest yet most profound modes of thought in pre-Qin philosophy.

Mencius’s use of "mountain wood" (shan mu) as a symbol here has a special significance. He is not using the analogy of "a single tree," but the analogy of "all the trees on a mountain." What does this imply$21 It implies that he is concerned not merely with individual sprouts of goodness, but with the holistic state of all goodness within the human heart. The luxuriant state of the mountain wood is holistic abundance; the barren state of the wood is holistic barrenness. The preservation or loss of the human conscience is also a holistic matter of preservation or loss.

Section 1.3 The Meaning of "Beautiful" (Mei): The Unity of Pre-Qin Aesthetics and Morality

The "Mei" (beautiful/good) in "The wood of Ox Mountain was once luxuriant" is glossed by Zhao Qi as "lush beauty." However, in the pre-Qin context, the word "Mei" is never merely a description of external form; it carries a deep value judgment.

In pre-Qin thought, "Mei" (Beauty) and "Shan" (Goodness) are often intertwined. The Analects (Book 3, 8th chapter) records:

The Master said of the Shao music: "It is consummate in beauty (jin mei), and consummate in goodness (you jin shan ye)." Speaking of the Wu music: "It is consummate in beauty, but not consummate in goodness."

Here, Confucius distinguishes between "beauty" and "goodness," yet the very fact that they can be paired suggests an intrinsic connection. The Shao music being "consummate in both beauty and goodness" represents the perfect unity of form and content, exterior and interior.

The Mencius (Jinxin II) also states:

"That which is desirable is called Good (shan); that which resides within oneself is called Trustworthiness (xin); that which is fully realized is called Beautiful (mei); that which is fully realized and radiant is called Great (da); Greatness transformed is called Sage (sheng); Sage beyond knowing is called Spirit (shen)."

Here, "Mei" is defined as "fully realized" (chongshi)—the complete actualization of internal goodness. "That which is fully realized is called Beautiful" precisely illustrates that, within Mencius’s system, the fundamental meaning of "Mei" is the abundant manifestation of internal goodness.

Therefore, the "Mei" in "The wood of Ox Mountain was once luxuriant" superficially refers to the abundance of the wood, but on a deeper level, it refers to the inherent goodness of human nature. The "beauty" of the mountain wood is visible and direct; the "beauty" (goodness) of human nature is internal and subtle. Mencius uses visible beauty to symbolize invisible goodness—this is the subtlety of his argumentation.

Why does Mencius use this method of "using the visible to illustrate the invisible"$22 Because the question of whether human goodness exists or not is extremely difficult to prove through direct experience. Gaozi argued: "Nature is like a rushing stream; if directed eastward, it flows east; if directed westward, it flows west," implying that human nature is neutral, neither good nor not-good, capable of becoming either. While this seems plausible, it interprets "nature" as a neutral, undetermined potential. To refute this, Mencius must find a way to make people intuitively sense "original goodness." The "former luxuriant state" (chang mei) of the mountain wood serves this intuitive purpose—Can you imagine a bare mountain having once been luxuriant$23 Can you imagine an evil person once having possessed a good heart$24 The former is easy to imagine; the latter should thus also be comprehensible.

Chapter 2: "Because it was near the suburb of a great capital, it was cut down with axes and adzes. Could it remain beautiful$25" — The Doctrine of External Harm

Section 2.1 "Near the Suburb of a Great Capital": Environmental Influence on Nature

The phrase "Because it was near the suburb of a great capital" (Yi qi jiao yu da guo ye) pinpoints the external cause of the wood’s destruction—its location near the capital of a great state. This single phrase contains profoundly deep thought: the harm of the environment upon innate nature.

What constitutes a "great capital" (da guo)$26 In the pre-Qin context, "great capital" referred not only to large territory and population but also to the immense consumption and burgeoning desires. The Zuo Zhuan (1st year of Duke Yin) recounts the matter of Duke Zhuang of Zheng: "A great city comprised no more than one-third of the outer wards, one-fifth of the middle wards, and one-ninth of the inner wards," showing the massive scale of capital cities. Great cities required vast amounts of timber for constructing palaces, manufacturing implements, and supplying fuel.

The Book of Songs, Major Odes (Daya, Ling Tai), describes King Wen building the Spirit Terrace: "We marked out the Spirit Terrace, we marked it and erected it. The common people attacked it, and in a short time it was finished." Although it claims King Wen’s terrace did not burden the people, building a terrace necessarily requires timber, and using timber requires felling trees—this logic is unavoidable.

The chapter named Zicai (Timber for Carving) from the Guanzi is related to "timber": "Zicai" means wood material for carpentry. This chapter uses timber to illustrate the governance of the people, stating: "A plan for one year is not as good as planting grain; a ten-year plan is not as good as planting trees; a lifelong plan is not as good as cultivating people. A single harvest comes from planting grain; ten harvests from planting trees; a hundred harvests from cultivating people." This equates "cultivating people" with "planting trees," which corresponds to Mencius's logic of using mountain wood to symbolize the human heart.

Why does "great capital" signify misfortune$27 Because the "great capital" represents the height of civilization, and the height of civilization represents the greatest consumption of nature. Here lies a profound paradox: the more developed human civilization becomes, the more severe the harm inflicted upon nature (including human nature).

This idea bears striking similarity to Laozi’s view. Laozi, Chapter 80, states:

"Let the state be small and the people few. Let there be implements of war many but unused. Let the people treat their light weapons as heavy, and fear death, so they will not move far away. Though they have boats and carts, they will have no occasion to use them. Though they have armor and weapons, they will not deploy them. Let the people return to the use of knotted cords. Let them be content with their food, pleased with their clothing, comfortable in their dwellings, and fond of their customs. Neighboring states can see each other, and the sound of chickens and dogs can be heard between them, but the people will not travel to and fro until they are old and dead."

Laozi yearns for a "small state with few people" precisely because he saw how the "great capital" erodes natural human disposition. In a great state, artifacts abound, desires proliferate, and the simple, original nature of man is gradually lost amidst this profusion of things and desires. This shares a deep logical resonance with Mencius’s analogy of Ox Mountain being "near the suburb of a great capital"—although Mencius and Laozi differ in their philosophical stances (Mencius advocates active moral cultivation, Laozi advocates returning to natural simplicity), both recognized the external environment’s harm to innate human nature.

The Zhuangzi, Chapter on "Horse’s Hooves" (Mati), pushes this discourse to its extreme:

"Horses are suited for treading frost and snow; their hair can ward off wind and cold. Grazing on grass and drinking water, lifting their feet to walk—this is the true nature (zhen xing) of the horse. Even if there were raised platforms and palatial chambers, they would be of no use. Then came Boyao, saying, 'I am good at managing horses.' He singed them, scraped them, carved them, branded them, tied them with reins, and confined them in stalls. Twelve or thirteen out of every ten horses died. He starved them, thirsted them, made them gallop and prance, controlled them and kept them in formation. They faced the danger of the yoke ornament in front and suffered the threat of the whip behind, and more than half the horses had already died."

Zhuangzi uses Boyao’s management of horses as an analogy to discuss how artificial "governance" (civilizational intervention) harms the horse’s "true nature." The horse’s true nature is to "graze grass and drink water, lift its feet to walk," but Boyao’s "governance" caused more than half the horses to die. This is consistent in approach with Mencius using the axe and adze felling wood as an analogy for how the external environment harms the human conscience.

However, we must note a fundamental difference between Mencius and Zhuangzi. Zhuangzi believed that all artificial civilization (including benevolence, righteousness, propriety, and wisdom) harms human true nature; Mencius believed that benevolence, righteousness, propriety, and wisdom are human true nature, and what the external environment harms is not "natural" human nature, but "moral" human nature. This distinction is crucial and will be discussed later.

Section 2.2 "Cut down with axes and adzes": The Manner and Intensity of Harm

The four characters "cut down with axes and adzes" (fu jin fa zhi) describe a violent, direct, and artificial mode of destruction.

"Fu" refers to a large axe; "Jin" refers to a small axe. The Shuowen Jiezi states: "Axe (fu) is for chopping. Adze (jin) is for chopping wood, an axe." Fujian refers to the tools used for felling wood. Felling with axes and adzes is a conscious, purposeful act—people are not unintentionally trampling seedlings, but intentionally using tools to cut.

Why emphasize "axes and adzes" rather than other methods of destruction (like burning, flooding, or wind)$28 Because "axes and adzes" represent intentional, human-wrought destruction, not natural disaster. The felling of mountain wood was not caused by natural calamity, but by human action. Likewise, the loss of the human conscience is not because the nature inherently lacks goodness, but because of subsequent human conditioning.

This point echoes strongly in pre-Qin thought. The Book of Documents (Taishi): "When Heaven sends down calamity, one can still escape it; when one brings calamity upon oneself, there is no escape." Natural disasters can be evaded, but human-made calamities cannot. If the mountain wood were burned by lightning, it might regenerate; but being cut down day after day with axes and adzes, it will eventually become barren. If the human conscience is occasionally shaken by external things, it might recover; but if it is eroded daily by material desires ("cut down day after day"), it will end up "not far from birds and beasts."

"Cut down with axes and adzes" also implies a crucial detail: the people who cut the wood are also human. This means that it is human beings (their desires) who harm human beings (their conscience). This creates a self-contradictory tragedy: the sprouts of goodness within human nature are eroded by human desires rooted in human nature itself. The reason the external environment can harm the human conscience is ultimately because humans themselves have needs for pleasure, profit, and fame. The wood of Ox Mountain was cut down not by itself, but by men—but why did men cut it$29 Because men needed timber. Similarly, the loss of human conscience occurs not because the conscience dies on its own, but because it is eroded by material desire—but where do material desires come from$30 From humans themselves.

This self-contradiction is precisely the greatest theoretical challenge facing Mencius's doctrine of inherent goodness: If human nature is inherently good, why do people harm their own goodness$31 If people inherently possess a conscience, why do they "abandon their conscience" (fang qi liangxin)$32 This question will be discussed in detail later in the section on "abandoning the heart."

Section 2.3 "Could it remain beautiful$33": The Power of Rhetorical Questioning

"Could it remain beautiful$34" (Ke yi wei mei hu$35) This rhetorical question is the first inquiry in the chapter and the logical starting point for the entire argument.

"Could it remain beautiful$36" means: (Under such daily cutting) can it still be luxuriant$37 The answer is obviously no—it cannot. However, the inability to remain luxuriant does not mean the mountain never had the capacity to be luxuriant. The crucial distinction is: the reason for "inability to be beautiful" is the external cutting, not the mountain’s own barrenness.

The logical force of this rhetorical question lies in its ability to separate the "result" (not beautiful) from the "cause" (being cut down), thereby laying the foundation for the subsequent argument—to separate the "non-goodness of man" (result) from the "nature of man" (cause).

This is a consistent debating technique of Mencius. In Mencius (Gongsun Chou I), it is recorded:

Mencius said: "All men have a heart that cannot bear to see the suffering of others. If the former sage-kings had a heart that could not bear to see the suffering of others, they would have possessed a government that could not bear to see the suffering of others. By applying this heart which cannot bear suffering to govern the world, governance can be managed as easily as turning something over in the palm of the hand. The reason I say all men have a heart that cannot bear to see the suffering of others is this: If a man today suddenly sees a small child about to fall into a well, he will experience alarm and compassion—not because he wishes to gain favor with the child's parents, not because he wishes to win praise from his neighbors and friends, and not because he dislikes the sound of the child’s cries. From this perspective, one who lacks the heart of alarm and compassion is not fully human; one who lacks the heart of shame and aversion is not fully human; one who lacks the heart of yielding and deferring is not fully human; one who lacks the heart of discerning right and wrong is not fully human. The heart of alarm and compassion is the sprout of Benevolence (ren); the heart of shame and aversion is the sprout of Righteousness (yi); the heart of yielding and deferring is the sprout of Propriety (li); the heart of discerning right and wrong is the sprout of Wisdom (zhi). For a person to possess these four sprouts is just like possessing four limbs."

Here, Mencius uses the analogy of the "child falling into a well" to prove "all men possess a heart that cannot bear to see the suffering of others," and his argumentation method is identical to that of the "Wood of Ox Mountain" chapter—both use concrete, perceptible examples to reveal an abstract, non-intuitive principle. The "child falling into a well" reveals "man has sprouts of goodness," while the "Wood of Ox Mountain" reveals "how these sprouts of goodness are lost" and "how they can be recovered after being lost." They are two sides of the same coin, jointly constituting the complete argument for Mencius's doctrine of inherent goodness.

Chapter 3: "That which rested day and night, moistened by dew and rain, was not without the sprouting of new shoots" — The Doctrine of Undying Vitality

Section 3.1 "Rested Day and Night" and "Moistened by Dew and Rain" — Cultivation by the Heavenly Way

This section is one of the most crucial turning points in the entire chapter. After describing the tragic state of the felled wood, Mencius shifts his tone, pointing out that even if the wood is cut down, as long as there is rest between day and night, and moisture from dew and rain, new sprouts will emerge.

"Rested day and night" (Ri ye zhi suo xi)—"Xi" means growth or sustenance. The I Ching (Xici Zhuan) states: "One Yin and one Yang constitute the Dao. That which follows it is Goodness (shan); that which completes it is Nature (xing)." The cycles of heaven and earth—day follows night, summer follows winter—are the rhythm in which all things grow, rest, and regenerate. After the mountain wood is cut, at night, when no one is felling it, the remaining roots quietly accumulate strength, preparing to sprout.

This "rest between day and night" directly corresponds to the later discussion of "night energy" (yeqi)—the rest and recovery of the conscience when one sleeps at night, free from the interference of material desires. Mencius's argument has a meticulously precise correspondence:

"Moistened by dew and rain" (Yu lu zhi suo run)—Dew and rain are blessings bestowed by Heaven, not achievable by human effort. The sprouting of the wood, while dependent on the root's own strength, cannot happen without the rain and dew sent from Heaven. The deeper meaning of this analogy is: the recovery of human goodness depends not only on human effort ("Preserved through holding, lost through letting go") but also on the assistance of a transcendent Heavenly Way.

Why does Mencius introduce the imagery of "day and night" and "dew and rain" here$38 Because they represent the rhythm and grace of the natural world—a force objective and constant, independent of human will. The alternation of day and night is the rhythm of the Heavenly Way; the descent of dew and rain is the grace of the Heavenly Way. Mencius thus implies that the foundation of human goodness is bestowed by the Heavenly Way and is natural; it is not artificially manufactured. Even if the conscience is completely eroded by material desire, as long as the rhythm of the Heavenly Way remains (people still live through the cycle of day and night), and the grace of the Heavenly Way persists (people still possess the ability to feel right and wrong), the conscience has the possibility of sprouting anew.

This idea resonates with the first chapter of the Doctrine of the Mean (Zhongyong):

"What Heaven imparts is called Nature (xing). Following this Nature is called the Way (dao). Cultivating the Way is called education (jiao). The Way, indeed, cannot be left for a moment. If it could be left, it would not be the Way. Therefore, the superior man is cautious and fearful when he is unseen, and fearful when he is unheard. Nothing is more visible than what is hidden, and nothing is more manifest than what is minute. Therefore, the superior man is careful about his solitude (shen qi du)."

"What Heaven imparts is called Nature" (Tianming zhi wei xing)—Human nature (goodness) is bestowed by Heaven, this is like the "moistening by dew and rain"—the grace of the Heavenly Way. "Cannot be left for a moment" (Bu ke xu yu li ye)—The Dao is present everywhere, this is like the "rest between day and night"—the rhythm of the Heavenly Way never ceases. The work of "cautious solitude" (shen du) is precisely to preserve the sprouts of goodness in the "hidden" and "minute" (i.e., during the night or when alone)—this parallels the mountain wood quietly sprouting at night when no one is felling it.

Section 3.2 "Not without the sprouting of new shoots": The Indestructibility of the Sprouts of Goodness

"Meng" refers to the initial growth of flora; "Ye" refers to the new shoots growing from the remaining roots after the tree has been felled. The combination "sprouting of new shoots" (meng ye) precisely describes a phenomenon of regeneration after destruction.

Why use "sprouting of new shoots" rather than "seed"$39 Because a "seed" is a beginning from nothing, while "sprouting of new shoots" is regeneration following destruction. After the mountain wood is cut, the roots remain in the soil, the vitality is not extinguished, and as long as conditions are right, new shoots will emerge from the remaining roots. The deeper meaning of this analogy is: when the human conscience is eroded by material desire, it is not entirely eliminated, but retreats to a deeper layer (like roots in the soil); as long as conditions are right (rest day and night, moisture from dew and rain), the conscience can sprout anew.

This analogy of "sprouting shoots" encapsulates a core tenet of Mencius’s doctrine of inherent goodness: the root of goodness cannot be completely extinguished. No matter how severe the external harm, as long as a person remains a person, the "root" of their goodness remains. What is the theoretical basis for this assertion$40

In Mencius (Gaozi II), the debate between Mencius and Gaozi is recorded:

Gaozi said: "Nature is like the willow (qiyiu); Righteousness (yi) is like a bowl or a ladle. To make benevolence and righteousness out of human nature is like making a bowl or ladle out of willow." Mencius said: "Can you follow the nature of the willow and make it into a bowl or ladle$41 You must injure the willow to make it into a bowl or ladle. If you injure the willow to make a bowl or ladle, will you also injure people to make benevolence and righteousness$42 Those who lead the world to do harm to benevolence and righteousness must be people who talk like you!"

In this passage, Mencius's core argument is that benevolence and righteousness are the results of "following" (shun) human nature, not "injuring" (qiangzazi) it. The nature of the willow is to grow; if one wants to make it into a bowl or ladle, one must injure its nature of growth—this is Gaozi’s claim, viewing benevolence and righteousness as external additions to human nature. Mencius believes benevolence and righteousness are inherent in human nature, just as growth is inherent in the willow.

Furthermore:

Gaozi said: "Nature is like a rushing stream (tuan shui); if directed eastward, it flows east; if directed westward, it flows west. Human nature has no distinction between good and not-good, just as water has no distinction between east and west." Mencius said: "Water indeed has no distinction between east and west, but does it have no distinction between up and down$43 Human nature’s inclination toward goodness is like water’s inclination to flow downward. People can be made to do evil, just as water can be made to flow uphill due to external force; this is not the nature of water."

This passage is even more crucial. Mencius uses water's downward flow to analogize human goodness—water's natural tendency is downward, this is its nature; human natural tendency is toward goodness, this is human nature. Water’s nature is not changed by being "pushed up" or "forced"; the mountain wood’s nature is not changed by being "cut down"; human nature of goodness is not changed by being eroded by desire. This is why, even if the mountain wood is completely cut down, there is still a "sprouting of new shoots"—the "root" of goodness cannot be destroyed.

Returning to the "sprouting shoots" analogy: the nature of water to flow down does not change because it is forced; the nature of mountain wood to grow does not change because it is cut down; the nature of man to be good does not change because it is eroded by desire. This is why, even after the wood is completely cut down, there is still a "sprouting of new shoots"—the "root" of goodness cannot be destroyed.

Section 3.3 Why "Not Without" Instead of Simply "There Is" — Mencius’s Cautious Phrasing

It is noteworthy that Mencius uses "it is not without the sprouting of new shoots" (fei wu meng ye zhi sheng yan) instead of simply saying "there is the sprouting of new shoots." The double negative ("not without") is weaker and more reserved than a direct affirmation ("there is").

Why this cautious phrasing$44

First, "not without" suggests that although the sprouting exists, it is not conspicuous. The new shoots are small and weak, visible only upon careful inspection. This analogy implies that although the sprouts of goodness exist within the eroded heart, they are extremely faint, suppressed, and require careful introspection to be perceived.

Second, "not without" is a rhetorical strategy. Mencius is confronting the common view that "there has never been good timber" (yi wei wei chang you cai yan)—people see the barren Ox Mountain and conclude that the mountain never grew good trees. Mencius does not hastily affirm "there are many new shoots on the mountain," but uses the moderate statement "it is not without new shoots" to refute the assertion that "there has never been good timber." This is analogous to confronting the proposition "human nature is without goodness"; Mencius first says "it is not without sprouts of goodness," inviting people to examine for themselves.

Third, "not without" indicates a sober recognition of reality. Mencius does not deny that Ox Mountain is indeed barren, nor does he deny that many people have indeed lost their consciences. He merely insists that even in this dire situation, the seed of goodness (meng ye) still exists, though it is obscured and suppressed, it has not been utterly eliminated.

This mode of thinking has its roots in the Analects. The Analects (Book 17, 2nd chapter) records:

The Master said: "By nature, men are nearly alike; by practice, they get to be wide apart."

Confucius says human nature is "nearly alike" (xiang jin), but acquired habits make them "wide apart" (xiang yuan). Note the term "nearly alike"—Confucius did not say "exactly the same," but "nearly alike." This is also a cautious phrasing, suggesting that although human nature shares a common tendency, it is not completely identical. Mencius’s "not without the sprouting of new shoots" inherits this cautious yet profound attitude from Confucius.

Chapter 4: "Cattle and sheep then come to graze upon it, and thus it becomes as barren as that" — Secondary Harm and Complete Loss

Section 4.1 "Cattle and sheep then come to graze upon it": The Second Destruction of the Sprouts of Goodness

If "cutting down with axes and adzes" was the first harm, then "cattle and sheep then come to graze upon it" (Niu yang you cong er mu zhi) is the second, and even more fatal, harm.

After the mountain wood is cut, new shoots (sprouts) emerge, but they are very young and fragile. If cattle and sheep are then allowed to graze on the mountain, they will eat these young shoots to extinction. The shoots do not even get a chance to grow before they are eliminated. Thus, the mountain becomes "as barren as that" (ruo bi zhuo zhuo ye)—completely bare, without a single tree.

The correspondence in this analogy is:

• Cutting with axes and adzes → Initial erosion of conscience by material desire (felling already grown trees).
• Sprouting of new shoots → Recovery of conscience during the night (nourishment of yeqi, causing sprouts of goodness to re-emerge).
• Cattle and sheep grazing → Daytime actions repeatedly destroying the newly recovered sprouts of goodness (daytime actions restrain and extinguish).

Why is the destruction by "cattle and sheep" more fatal than the "axes and adzes"$45 Because the axes cut down large trees, but the roots remain, allowing new shoots to grow. Cattle and sheep, however, graze on the newly emerging sprouts, preventing them from growing, and eventually, the roots themselves die due to lack of nourishment from photosynthesis.

The profound meaning here is: the most fatal harm to the human conscience is not a single, massive blow, but repeated, continuous erosion that eradicates the sprout of goodness the moment it begins to recover—namely, the daily, pervasive infringement of minor vices. A person might make one major mistake and regret it afterward, and the conscience can still recover. But if a person continually commits unrighteous acts, every time the conscience begins to revive (during the nighttime "yeqi"), it is immediately extinguished by the actions of the day ("daytime actions restrain and extinguish it"). Repeating this cycle, the conscience will ultimately be lost entirely.

Section 4.2 The Significance of the "Cattle and Sheep" Imagery

Why did Mencius choose "cattle and sheep" as the imagery for the second harm$46 "Cattle and sheep" carry rich symbolic meanings in pre-Qin literature.

The Analects (Chapter 3, 17th chapter) records:

Zigong wished to abolish the offering of the ram during the ceremony of announcing the new month. The Master said: "Ci! You love the ram, but I love the rite."

Here, "sheep" relates to "ritual" (li). The ritual of announcing the new month required a ram; Zigong wanted to save the ram, but Confucius felt the rite could not be abandoned. However, the "cattle and sheep" here are not sacrificial animals, but livestock for grazing. Grazing cattle and sheep is an everyday, utilitarian activity aimed at satisfying human dietary needs. In pre-Qin pastoral society, cattle and sheep were symbols of wealth (Shijing, Xiaoya, Wuyang): "Who says you have no sheep$47 Three hundred are in the flock. Who says you have no cattle$48 Ninety are young bulls." Abundance is described by the multitude of cattle and sheep. When cattle and sheep graze and eat the new shoots, it represents the direct destruction of spiritual growth by material needs.

There is a subtle implication here: the people who graze the cattle and sheep might be the same people who felled the wood, or they might be different. The first group cut down the big trees for material; the second group ate the new shoots for livestock. Their goals differ, but the harm to the mountain is cumulative. The first group felled the large trees, and the second group’s livestock ate the new sprouts.

On the level of the human heart, this analogy suggests that the forces eroding human conscience are not singular but multi-faceted and cumulative. Major desires (like greed for wealth, lust, or lust for power) are the "axes and adzes," cutting down the already developed aspects of goodness. Minor habits (like daily laziness, compromise, or following the crowd) are the "cattle and sheep," nibbling away at the newly emerging sprouts of goodness. Major desires are easily noticed and guarded against, but minor habits are often ignored because they are too commonplace—yet it is precisely these ignored minor habits that ultimately lead to the complete loss of conscience.

The Analects (Chapter 4, 26th chapter) records:

Zixia said: "When the great virtues do not cross the boundaries, minor virtues that come and go are acceptable."

Zixia believed that minor departures from perfection were tolerable. However, from the perspective of Mencius’s "cattle and sheep grazing," it is precisely the constant "coming and going" of "minor virtues" that leads to the repeated nibbling away of the sprouts of goodness, ultimately resulting in their complete demise. Even if the "great virtues" do not cross the "boundaries" (major junctures), the continuous indulgence in "minor virtues" is like cattle and sheep eating new shoots daily, eventually leaving the mountain (the human heart) "barren."

Here, Mencius’s perspective forms an interesting contrast with Zixia’s. Zixia emphasizes major principles and righteousness, allowing for flexibility in minor details; Mencius profoundly recognized the cumulative effect of "minor details"—a dike a thousand li high collapses because of an ant hole.

Section 4.3 "As barren as that": The Image of Complete Loss

"As barren as that" (Ruo bi zhuo zhuo ye)—meaning utterly bare. Zhao Qi’s annotation: "Zhuozhuo means the appearance of having no trees or plants." A mountain that was once lush is now utterly bare, with not a single blade of grass growing—this is a shocking sight.

Why use such a stark image$49 Because Mencius wants people to face the severity of the reality. The state of the human conscience after it has been lost is like a barren mountain—empty, with no trace of goodness. This explains why bystanders "assume there has never been good timber"—they conclude this person never possessed a conscience.

The word "zhuozhuo" has other uses in pre-Qin literature. The Book of Songs, Major Odes (Daya, Song Gao), describes a lofty mountain: "Lofty is that great mountain, reaching to the heavens. From that mountain descended the spirits, giving birth to Fu and Shen." Although not directly using "zhuozhuo", the tradition of describing tall mountains is long-established. In contrast, the Book of Songs, Major Odes (Daya, Han Lu), states: "Gazing at that dry hill slope, the briars and thorny shrubs are dense and abundant. How cheerful and amiable is this gentleman! His sustenance is abundant and joyous." "Zhen shu ji ji" (dense briars and shrubs) contrasts sharply with "zhuozhuo" (barrenness)—the former symbolizes the beauty of a flourishing forest, the latter the tragedy of utter destruction.

It is worth pondering: A barren mountain is not incapable of recovery. If the cutting and grazing cease, after years of rest and recuperation, vegetation can indeed grow back. Likewise, even if a person's conscience has been entirely lost, if they cease the erosion of material desire and engage in long-term cultivation, the conscience can recover. However, recovery presupposes "stopping the destruction"—if the axes never stop, and the cattle and sheep are never removed, the mountain can never recover. Similarly, if material desires continue, and unrighteous acts persist, the conscience can never be restored.

This is the concrete manifestation of Mencius’s later statement: "Thus, if they obtain nurture, nothing will fail to grow; if they lose nurture, nothing will fail to diminish."

Chapter 5: "When people see it barren and assume there was never any timber, is this the nature of the mountain$50" — Errors in Cognition and Discernment of Nature

Section 5.1 "Assuming there was never any timber": The Fallacy of Inferring Nature from Results

This line points to a crucial turning point in the chapter’s argument. Mencius highlights a very common cognitive error: people see the barren state of Ox Mountain and conclude, "this mountain never grew good trees."

What is the essence of this cognitive error$51 It is to deduce the "original nature" (cause) from the "current state" (result), while ignoring the "process" (external intervention and change). People see only the result of "barrenness" but fail to ask "Why did it become barren$52"—was it due to the cutting of axes and adzes and the grazing of cattle and sheep, or because the mountain itself cannot grow trees$53

This error is extremely common in daily life. People see a person acting wickedly and conclude that this person is "naturally cruel" or "never had a conscience to begin with." People see a nation lagging behind and conclude that this nation is "inherently dull" or "lacks the genes for civilization." These are all fallacies of "assuming there was never any timber"—deducing nature from results while ignoring the process that led to those results.

Mencius’s profundity lies in not only pointing out this error but also revealing its danger. If people truly believe that "the mountain was never naturally wooded," then no one will bother planting trees—since it naturally doesn't grow trees, planting them is futile. Similarly, if people truly believe that "human nature is inherently without goodness," then no one will bother with moral instruction or cultivation—since nature is not good, teaching is futile. The danger of this belief is that it negates the necessity and possibility of moral cultivation.

Hence, Mencius shatters this misconception with a sharp rhetorical question: "Is this the nature of the mountain$54" (Ci qi shan zhi xing ye zai$55) Of course not! The nature of the mountain is to be "once luxuriant" (chang mei), capable of growing dense forests. Barrenness is merely the result of external harm, not the mountain's true nature.

Section 5.2 Discernment of the Term "Nature" (Xing)

The character "Xing" (Nature) is the core concept of this chapter and indeed of pre-Qin theories of human nature. Mencius uses the "nature of the mountain" (shan zhi xing) here to lead into the discussion of "human nature" (ren zhi xing), a move deeply consistent with the meaning of "What Heaven imparts is called Nature" in the Doctrine of the Mean.

In pre-Qin literature, the meaning of "Xing" underwent a rich evolution:

I. The Book of Documents (Zhao Gao): "Regulate nature (jie xing), only day by day advance." Early annotations before Zhao Qi often understood this "xing" as "life"—the innate endowment of man. The Zuo Zhuan (14th year of Duke Xiang), recording the words of the diviner Shi Kuang: "Heaven gave birth to the people and established rulers to oversee them, so they would not lose their nature (shi si xing)." Here, "xing" also refers to innate nature.

II. The Analects (Book 17, 2nd chapter), Confucius said: "By nature, men are nearly alike; by practice, they get to be wide apart." Here, "xing" is contrasted with "Xi" (practice/habit)—"Xing" is the state before external influence; "Xi" is the state formed by external influence. Confucius only said they are "nearly alike," not explicitly stating whether nature is good or evil, leaving a vast space for interpretation.

III. In the debates between Mencius and Gaozi in Mencius (Gaozi II), the concept of "xing" received its fullest discussion:

Gaozi said: "What is bestowed at birth is nature" (Sheng zhi wei xing). —Defining "xing" by "birth" (physiological instinct).

Mencius rebutted: "If what is bestowed at birth is nature, is whiteness the nature of white things$56" —If everything "given at birth" is called nature, how is human nature different from dog nature or ox nature$57

Gaozi said: "Eating and sexuality are nature" (Shi se, xing ye). —Defining human nature by appetite and sexual desire.

Mencius’s response: Human nature is different from the nature of dogs and oxen; human nature lies in benevolence, righteousness, propriety, and wisdom, not merely in eating and sex.

The crucial issue here is: What precisely is "Xing"$58 Is everything innate called nature, or only that unique endowment that distinguishes humans from beasts$59 Mencius’s stance is clear: only those unique endowments that distinguish humans from beasts—the sprouts of benevolence, righteousness, propriety, and wisdom—constitute true "human nature." Physiological instincts like eating and sexuality are innate, but they are shared with beasts, and thus not the crucial element defining humanity.

Returning to the "Wood of Ox Mountain" chapter: "Is this the nature of the mountain$60" What is the "nature" of the mountain$61 It is "once luxuriant" (chang mei)—the capacity to grow dense wood. Barrenness is not the nature of the mountain, just as not-goodness is not the nature of man. The nature of the mountain is "beauty" (mei), the nature of man is "goodness" (shan). External harm can make the mountain barren and man ungood, but it cannot change the mountain's nature or man's nature.

IV. The Zuo Zhuan (25th year of Duke Zhao) records the words of Zidashu of Zheng: "Propriety (li) is the constant principle of Heaven, the righteousness of Earth, and the conduct of the people." It also says: "People possess liking and disliking, joy and anger, sorrow and happiness, born from the Six Qi. Therefore, when examined, they align with their categories, which restrains the Six Desires." Here, human emotions (likes, dislikes, joy, anger, sorrow, happiness) are attributed to the "Six Qi," belonging to the natural endowment of heaven and earth. However, this concept of the "Six Qi" or Six Desires differs from what Mencius calls "Nature"—Mencius’s nature emphasizes the sprouts of goodness (benevolence, righteousness, propriety, wisdom), rather than the range of emotions (likes, dislikes, joy, anger).

V. The Doctrine of the Mean (Zhongyong): "What Heaven imparts is called Nature (xing), following this nature is called the Way (dao), cultivating the Way is called education (jiao)." "Xing" originates from "Heaven’s impartment" (Tianming), and the "Way" originates from "following Nature" (shuai xing). The proposition "What Heaven imparts is called Nature" not only provides the ultimate explanation for the source of nature—nature comes from Heaven’s impartment—but also provides the metaphysical basis for the doctrine of inherent goodness—what Heaven imparts must be good, thus nature is also good.

In the "Wood of Ox Mountain" chapter, Mencius uses the "nature of the mountain" as a starting point to discuss "human nature," a line of reasoning consistent with the Zhongyong: The nature of the mountain is divinely endowed (the mountain inherently has the capacity to grow trees, this is not conferred by man); human nature is also divinely endowed (humans inherently possess the sprouts of benevolence, righteousness, propriety, and wisdom, these are not learned). External harm can obscure innate nature, but cannot destroy it.

Section 5.3 Comparative Analysis of "Nature" in Pre-Qin Schools

To further understand Mencius’s concept of "Xing," it is necessary to compare it with the views of other pre-Qin thinkers.

(A) Confucius: Nature is nearly alike, practice makes them far apart.

As mentioned, Confucius only said "By nature, men are nearly alike; by practice, they get to be wide apart" (Lunyu, Yang Huo), without explicitly classifying nature as good or evil. However, Confucius's thought contains abundant hints of inherent goodness:

The Analects (Book 4, 15th chapter) records:

The Master said: "I have never seen one who loves goodness (ren) as much as one who hates wickedness (bu ren). One who loves goodness can receive no higher praise; one who hates wickedness, if he were to practice goodness, would not allow wickedness to befall himself. Has anyone been able to exert himself for goodness for a single day$62 I have never seen one whose strength was insufficient. Perhaps there are such people, but I have not seen them."

Here, Confucius says, "I have never seen one whose strength was insufficient" to strive for goodness—implying everyone possesses the capacity to act benevolently. This capacity is innate, pre-existing—is this not the precursor to the doctrine of inherent goodness$63

The Analects (Book 7, 21st chapter) states:

The Master said: "Is Benevolence (ren) far away$64 If I wish for Benevolence, it arrives immediately."

Benevolence is not external; it arrives as soon as one desires it. This implies Benevolence is inherent, not something acquired externally.

(B) Gaozi: Nature is neither good nor not-good.

Gaozi was Mencius's primary debating opponent. Gaozi’s core assertion was "Xing wu shan wu bu shan"—human nature is neutral, capable of becoming good or not-good, depending entirely on later guidance. Gaozi’s metaphors:

"Nature is like the willow (qiyiu)"—Human nature is like willow wood, which can be made into any shape of vessel; in itself, it is neither good nor not-good.

"Nature is like a rushing stream (tuan shui)"—Nature is like a swift current, which can flow east or west; in itself, it is neither good nor not-good.

"What is bestowed at birth is nature" (Sheng zhi wei xing)—Everything innate is called nature, including instincts like eating and sex.

Gaozi’s line of reasoning represents a "blank slate" theory—human nature is a blank sheet upon which good or evil is written later. The problem with this view: If nature is truly neutral, where does the standard for good and evil come from$65 If there are no seeds of goodness within nature, where can goodness grow$66 If human nature has no innate tendency toward good, why does a person experience "alarm and compassion" (chu ti ce yin) upon seeing a child about to fall into a well$67

(C) Views of Shi Shuo and Mi Buqi: Nature Contains Both Good and Evil

Zhao Qi, commenting on Mencius, mentioned: "In the past, Shi Shuo of Zhou believed that human nature contained both good and evil. If the good nature is nourished and brought forth, goodness flourishes; if the evil nature is nourished and brought forth, evil flourishes." He also mentioned the differing views of Mi Buqi, Qi Diao Kai, and Gongsun Nizi regarding human nature. This view posits that human nature contains both good and evil components, and which one prevails depends on later cultivation. While this seems moderate, it faces a theoretical difficulty: If good and evil coexist within nature, what is their relationship$68 Are they equal or unequal$69 Are they of the same source or different sources$70 This view failed to answer these fundamental questions.

(D) Xunzi: Nature is Evil (Xing E)

The Xunzi (Xing E chapter) states:

"Human nature is evil; its goodness is acquired artificiality (wei). Now, human nature, being born, has a propensity for seeking gain; if one follows this, contention and usurpation arise, and yielding and propriety vanish. Being born, they have malice and dislike; if one follows this, cruelty and villainy arise, and loyalty and trustworthiness vanish. Being born, they have the desires of the eyes and ears, and a fondness for beautiful sounds and sights; if one follows this, licentiousness and disorder arise, and rites and refinement vanish. Thus, if one follows human nature and complies with human desires, they will inevitably resort to contention, violate distinctions and destroy order, and end in tyranny. Therefore, there must be the transformation of teachers' laws and the Way of Rites and Righteousness, before one can emerge into yielding and propriety, align with refinement and order, and end in governance. Judging by this, human nature is clearly evil, and its goodness is artificiality."

Xunzi's doctrine of "innate evil" forms the opposing pillar to Mencius's doctrine of "innate goodness" in pre-Qin human nature theory. Xunzi believed that human nature is to be fond of profit, malicious, and lustful; if one follows these innate tendencies, tyranny and disorder are inevitable—therefore nature is "evil." Goodness (yielding, trustworthiness, rites, and refinement) is not inherent but acquired through "artificiality" (wei)—the transformation of teachers’ laws and the Way of Rites and Righteousness.

Why did these two great Confucian scholars arrive at such opposing judgments on human nature$71 The key lies in their differing definitions of "Xing." What Mencius calls "Xing" refers to the unique endowment that makes man human—the sprouts of benevolence, righteousness, propriety, and wisdom. What Xunzi calls "Xing" refers to the natural desires inherent in man from birth—the propensity for gain, malice, and lust. They were discussing different aspects of "Xing." If natural desires are defined as nature, then nature can be called "evil" (because following natural desires leads to evil results); if moral endowment is defined as nature, then nature can be called "good" (because man inherently possesses the capacity to perceive morality).

In the "Wood of Ox Mountain" chapter, Mencius implicitly responds to the views akin to Xunzi’s (though Xunzi’s school crystallized slightly later, similar ideas existed in Mencius’s time). Mencius uses the analogy of Ox Mountain wood to illustrate: the mountain's "un-beautiful" state (barrenness) is not its "true nature," but the result of external harm. Likewise, human un-goodness is not human nature, but the result of erosion by material desires. If someone concludes human nature is inherently evil upon seeing human un-goodness, they commit the same error as "assuming there was never any timber"—deducing nature from result while ignoring the process that led to the result.

(E) Laozi and Zhuangzi: Nature Transcends Good and Evil

The Laozi, Chapter 5, states:

"Heaven and Earth are not benevolent; they treat the myriad things as straw dogs. The sage is not benevolent; he treats the people as straw dogs."

The Laozi, Chapter 18, states:

"When the Great Dao is abandoned, there arise benevolence and righteousness. When wisdom appears, there arise great deceits. When the six relationships are not in harmony, there arise filial piety and compassion. When the state is in chaos, there arise loyal ministers."

The Laozi, Chapter 38, states:

"Therefore, when the Dao is lost, virtue remains; when virtue is lost, benevolence remains; when benevolence is lost, righteousness remains; when righteousness is lost, propriety remains. Propriety is the thinning of loyalty and trustworthiness, and the beginning of chaos."

Laozi’s stance is that moral categories like benevolence, righteousness, propriety, and wisdom are themselves products of the decay of the Dao. The true "Dao" transcends the distinction between good and evil. Therefore, Laozi would not agree with Mencius's definition of human nature in terms of benevolence and righteousness—in Laozi’s view, benevolence and righteousness are not the spontaneity of "Xing."

The Zhuangzi, Chapter on "Clenched Thumbs" (Pianmu), states:

"Thus, those who are proficient in brightness mix up the five colors and indulge in intricate patterns; are these not the dazzling splendor of blue, yellow, embroidered cloth, and brocade$72 It is precisely the likes of Lì Jù who pursue this. Those who are abundant in hearing mix up the five sounds and indulge in the six tones; are these not the sounds of metal, stone, silk, and bamboo, of the great Zhong and Huang modes$73 It is precisely the likes of Master Kuang who pursue this. Those who branch out in benevolence pull up virtue to block nature in order to gain fame and reputation, making the world chatter in admiration of inadequate laws; are these not the likes of Zeng Shen and Shi Yu who pursue this$74"

Zhuangzi suggests that benevolence and righteousness, in relation to human nature, are like a cloven thumb relative to a hand—they are superfluous and unnatural. The "benevolence" of Zeng Shen and Shi Yu, in Zhuangzi's view, is the result of "pulling up virtue to block nature" (zhuo de sai xing).

However, does Zhuangzi's criticism apply to Mencius$1 It is important to note that Mencius’s doctrine of inherent goodness emphasizes that benevolence, righteousness, propriety, and wisdom are not acquired norms, but innate moral intuitions. Mencius’s "benevolence, righteousness, propriety, and wisdom" are not artificial constructs (wei), but divinely endowed nature (xing). This is fundamentally different from the "branching out in benevolence" that Zhuangzi criticizes—the external addition of rites and righteousness. Mencius might argue: The benevolence and righteousness Zhuangzi criticizes are indeed external and artificial; those are not true benevolence and righteousness. True benevolence and righteousness are internal and innate, they are the "nature" (xing) itself.

Chapter 6: "Even those existing in men, how could they lack the heart of Benevolence and Righteousness$2" — The Transition from Analogy to Human Heart Discourse

Section 6.1 "Even those existing in men": The Crucial Transition

"Even those existing in men, how could they lack the heart of Benevolence and Righteousness$3" (Sui cun yu ren zhe, qi wu ren yi zhi xin zai$4) This sentence is the key transition in the chapter, moving from the "analogy" to the "discourse" on the human heart.

"Existing in men" (Cun yu ren zhe) refers to that which exists within the human heart. The word "even" (sui) carries a concessive tone, suggesting "even if." The entire sentence means: Even in those people (whose consciences are already lost), could they truly lack the heart of benevolence and righteousness$5

This question runs parallel to the earlier rhetorical question, "Is this the nature of the mountain$6" (Ci qi shan zhi xing ye zai$7):

• The barrenness of Ox Mountain, is that the mountain's nature$8 → The un-goodness of man, is that man's nature$9
• The mountain is not without the sprouting of new shoots → How could man lack the heart of benevolence and righteousness$10

Why does Mencius use "heart of Benevolence and Righteousness" (ren yi zhi xin) here instead of "nature of Benevolence and Righteousness" (ren yi zhi xing)$11 Because "Xin" (heart/mind) is more concrete and perceptible than "Xing" (nature). "Xing" is abstract and metaphysical, difficult to experience directly; "Xin" is concrete and actual, perceivable in daily life. Mencius’s distinctive method is to argue for "Xing" by starting from "Xin"—by analyzing specific psychological experiences (alarm/compassion, shame/aversion, yielding/deferring, right/wrong discernment) to prove the abstract proposition of "inherent goodness."

Mencius (Gaozi II) records:

Mencius said: "Benevolence (ren) is the human heart (ren xin); Righteousness (yi) is the human path (ren lu). To abandon the path and not follow it, to let the heart go astray and not seek it—how lamentable! If a man loses his chicken or dog, he knows how to look for it; if he loses his heart (fang xin), he does not know how to look for it. The Way of learning and scholarship is nothing else but seeking to recover that lost heart."

Here, Mencius explicitly states, "Benevolence is the human heart" (Ren, ren xin ye)—Benevolence is the human heart. "Fang xin" means the abandonment of the conscience. "The Way of learning and scholarship is nothing else but seeking to recover that lost heart" (Xue wen zhi dao wu ta, qiu qi fang xin er yi yi). This aligns perfectly with the core theme of the "Wood of Ox Mountain" chapter: the purpose of all scholarship and cultivation is merely to find back that lost conscience.

Section 6.2 "How could they lack the heart of Benevolence and Righteousness$12": A Review of the Four Sprouts

What exactly does the "heart of Benevolence and Righteousness" refer to$13 Mencius (Gongsun Chou I) provides the most systematic exposition:

"The heart of alarm and compassion is the sprout of Benevolence (ren); the heart of shame and aversion is the sprout of Righteousness (yi); the heart of yielding and deferring is the sprout of Propriety (li); the heart of discerning right and wrong is the sprout of Wisdom (zhi). For a person to possess these four sprouts is just like possessing four limbs. If someone possesses these four sprouts but claims they cannot fulfill them, they are injuring themselves; if they say their ruler cannot fulfill them, they are injuring their ruler. Whoever possesses these four sprouts within themselves knows how to expand and develop them, just as fire, when first lit, or a spring, when first flowing. If one can expand them, it is enough to protect the Four Seas; if one cannot expand them, it is not enough to serve one’s parents."

This passage reveals several key insights:

First, the "Four Sprouts" are inherent in everyone—"For a person to possess these four sprouts is just like possessing four limbs." Just as everyone has four limbs, everyone possesses the sprouts of benevolence, righteousness, propriety, and wisdom. This is the basic assertion of the doctrine of inherent goodness.

Second, the "Four Sprouts" need to be "expanded" (kuo er chong zhi)—"Whoever possesses these four sprouts... knows how to expand and develop them, just as fire, when first lit, or a spring, when first flowing." The sprouts of goodness are not complete goodness; they are the seeds or sprouts of goodness. They must be nurtured and expanded to grow into complete virtues. This is analogous to the "sprouting shoots" of the Ox Mountain wood—sprouts do not equal ancient trees, but they are the starting point for ancient trees.

Third, "expansion" versus "non-expansion" leads to drastically different results—"If one can expand them, it is enough to protect the Four Seas; if one cannot expand them, it is not enough to serve one’s parents." When the sprouts of goodness are expanded, they can culminate in the virtues of a sage-king; when they are not expanded (or are harmed), one cannot even perform the basic filial duty. This parallels the Ox Mountain wood: "If they obtain nurture, nothing will fail to grow; if they lose nurture, nothing will fail to diminish."

Returning to the "Wood of Ox Mountain" chapter: "How could they lack the heart of Benevolence and Righteousness$14"—Of course they have it! It has just been felled by "axes and adzes" (material desire) and nibbled by "cattle and sheep" (daily unrighteous actions), so it cannot be seen. But not being seen does not mean it does not exist.

Section 6.3 The Deeper Meaning of "Benevolence" (Ren) and "Righteousness" (Yi) in the Pre-Qin Context

"Benevolence" (Ren) and "Righteousness" (Yi) are the two core moral categories in pre-Qin thought. A deeper examination here is warranted.

(A) Benevolence (Ren)

The character Ren (仁), according to the Shuowen Jiezi, "means closeness between people. It is composed of 'person' (人) and 'two' (二)." The affectionate relationship between people is "Ren."

However, the usage of "Ren" in pre-Qin texts extends far beyond mere "affection."

The Analects (Book 12, 1st chapter) records:

Yan Yuan asked about Benevolence. The Master said: "To subdue oneself and return to propriety (ke ji fu li) is Benevolence. If a man can for one day subdue himself and return to propriety, all under heaven will ascribe Benevolence to him. Benevolence comes from oneself; does it come from others$15"

Here, "Ren" is "subduing oneself and returning to propriety"—restraining selfish desires and restoring the norms of ritual.

The Analects (Book 6, 30th chapter) records:

Zigong asked: "Suppose there is a man who liberally benefits the common people and can succor the masses, what do you think of him$16 Can he be called benevolent (ren)$17" The Master said: "Why mention benevolence$18 He must be a sage (sheng)! Even Yao and Shun would have struggled with that! The benevolent man, wishing to establish himself, establishes others; wishing to be recognized, he makes others recognized. Being able to take a nearby example and apply it—this can be called the method of benevolence."

Here, "Ren" is "wishing to establish oneself, he establishes others; wishing to be recognized, he makes others recognized"—applying one’s own standard to others.

The Analects (Book 4, 1st chapter) records:

The Master said: "To live in a benevolent neighborhood (li ren wei mei) is praiseworthy. If one chooses not to dwell where benevolence is, how can one be considered wise$19"

Here, "Ren" seems to refer to a living environment and atmosphere—it is "beautiful" to live among benevolent neighbors.

The Mencius (Jinxin II) states:

Mencius said: "Benevolence (ren) is man (ren). Combining them, it is the Way (dao)."

Here, Mencius directly equates "Ren" with "man" (ren)—Benevolence is what makes man human. This definition is extremely profound, meaning: without Ren, one is not truly human.

(B) Righteousness (Yi)

The Shuowen Jiezi states: "Yi (義) means the proper deportment of the self. It is composed of 'I' (我) and 'sheep' (羊)."

However, the usage of "Yi" in pre-Qin texts also extends far beyond "deportment."

The Analects (Book 4, 10th chapter) records:

The Master said: "The superior man has no fixed course, nor is he fixed in propriety; he adheres to Righteousness (yi)."

Here, "Yi" is the standard for judging right and wrong, for determining what to choose or reject—the superior man does not constantly lean toward or away from anything; he conforms to "Yi."

The Mencius (Gaozi II) states:

"Righteousness (yi) is the human path (ren lu)."

"Yi" is the path that man ought to walk—the correct standard for conduct.

The Mencius (Gongsun Chou I) records:

"When it comes to Qi (vital energy), it is matched with Righteousness and the Dao; without these, it becomes weak. This Qi is born from the accumulation of Righteousness, not seized by a sudden act of righteousness. If one acts without complacency in one’s heart, one becomes weak."

Here, "Yi" is connected to the "vast, flowing energy" (haoran zhi qi)—the haoran zhi qi must be matched with Righteousness and the Dao, and is "born from the accumulation of Righteousness," not acquired instantly. This implies that "Yi" is not a one-time action, but the result of long-term accumulation.

The compound term "Benevolence and Righteousness" (Ren Yi) in pre-Qin texts generally refers to morality as a whole. Mencius's use of "heart of Benevolence and Righteousness" (ren yi zhi xin) aims to state that the original human heart is moral and oriented toward goodness. This "heart of Benevolence and Righteousness" is not acquired moral knowledge but innate moral intuition—the heart of alarm/compassion (sprout of Ren) and the heart of shame/aversion (sprout of Yi).

Chapter 7: "That which caused the abandonment of the good heart is just like the axe and adze to the wood" — The Discourse on Abandoning the Heart

Section 7.1 "Abandoning the good heart": A Deep Analysis of Why the Conscience is Lost

"That which caused the abandonment of the good heart (fang qi liang xin) is just like the axe and adze to the wood" (Yi you suo fang qi liang xin zhe, yi you fu jin zhi yu mu ye). The reason man loses his conscience is like the axe and adze to the wood.

"Fang" means losing or letting go. Zhao Qi annotates: "Fang means loss." The abandonment of the good heart (liangxin) is not actively "giving up," but passively "losing" (fang shi)—losing it without awareness.

Why use the word "Fang" instead of words like "loss" (sang), "death" (wang), or "extinction" (mie)$20 The word "Fang" carries a sense of "scattering" or "drifting away"—the conscience is not severed by a single blow, but slowly flows away like water, or wanders off quietly like a sheep.

The Analects contains an important usage of "Fang":

The Analects (Book 4, 1st chapter) records:

The Master said: "If one acts based on profit (fang yu li er xing), one will incur much resentment." While some understand "fang" here as "modeling after," another interpretation is: if one takes profit as the standard for action (indulging in profit), one will incur much resentment.

More famously, Mencius (Gaozi II) presents the discourse on "abandoning the heart" (fang xin):

"Benevolence is the human heart; Righteousness is the human path. To abandon the path and not follow it, to let the heart go astray and not seek it—how lamentable! If a man loses his chicken or dog, he knows how to look for it; if he loses his heart, he does not know how to look for it. The Way of learning and scholarship is nothing else but seeking to recover that lost heart."

This passage draws an analogy between "fang xin" (losing the conscience) and "losing a chicken or dog" (fang ji quan). If a person loses a chicken or dog, they know to search for it; if they lose their conscience, they do not know how to search for it. Mencius laments, "How lamentable!"—how tragic that people care more about tangible possessions than their intangible conscience. Chickens and dogs are visible and concrete; their loss is immediately apparent. The conscience is invisible and abstract; its loss is gradual and subtle. People pay far more attention to tangible things than to the intangible heart—this itself shows that the human heart has already been obscured by material desires.

Section 7.2 The Precise Correspondence between the Conscience's Loss and the Wood's Felling

Mencius’s analogy of "the axe and adze to the wood" in describing the loss of conscience has an extremely precise correspondence:

Axe and Adze → Material Desire: Axes and adzes are tools for cutting wood; material desires are the forces that erode conscience. Axes and adzes are man-made artifacts; material desires are not inherent in human nature but arise from external temptations and the indulgence of the heart.

The Process of Felling → The Process of Losing Conscience: Felling is not completed in one stroke—it requires chop after chop. The loss of conscience is not instantaneous—it requires repeated indulgence, day-after-day erosion.

The Woodcutter’s Goal → The Desire-Chaser’s Goal: The woodcutter fells trees to obtain timber—his goal is not "to destroy the mountain," but "to acquire material." Those who chase material desires erode conscience not intentionally—their goal is not "to lose their conscience," but "to acquire profit." Yet, the objective result is the same: the mountain wood is depleted, and the conscience is lost.

This contains a profound philosophical insight: the reason people "abandon their conscience" is often not out of an evil motive, but out of the normal pursuit of gain—only when this pursuit is unrestrained and unchecked does it inadvertently consume the conscience. Just as the woodcutter initially only cut a few trees for material, not intending to denude the mountain, the daily process of cutting eventually leads to the mountain being stripped bare.

This idea resonates widely in pre-Qin literature. The Book of Documents (Dayu Mo):

"The human heart is perilous; the Dao heart is subtle. Only when precise and singular can one hold fast to the Mean."

"The human heart is perilous" (Ren xin wei wei)—human desire is dangerous and unstable. "The Dao heart is subtle" (Dao xin wei wei)—the human Dao heart (conscience) is subtle and easily lost. These two lines brilliantly summarize the core insight of Mencius’s "abandoning the heart" discourse: The subtlety of the Dao heart makes it extremely vulnerable to being eroded by the peril of the human heart (desire)—just as the new sprout is easily eaten by the grazing ox. The perversity of the human heart means that if one indulges it even slightly, it inflicts irreversible harm on the conscience. "Only when precise and singular can one hold fast to the Mean." This is precisely the cultivation Mencius advocates: preventing the "human heart" (desire) from running wild, nurturing the "Dao heart" (conscience), allowing it to grow and strengthen continuously.

Section 7.3 Examination of the Term "Good Heart" (Liangxin)

The term "Good Heart" (Liangxin) does not appear in literature prior to Mencius. The Analects does not use the term, nor do the Book of Documents or the Book of Songs. Mencius is likely the originator of the concept of "Liangxin."

"Liang" means good or excellent. The Shuowen Jiezi states: "Liang means goodness."

However, the character "Liang" has another important meaning in pre-Qin texts: "innate" or "original." The terms "Liangzhi" (innate knowledge) and "Liangneng" (innate ability) both carry the meaning of "original knowledge" or "original ability."

Mencius (Jinxin I) records:

"What man can do without learning is his innate ability (liang neng); what man knows without pondering is his innate knowledge (liang zhi). An infant, however young, knows to love its parents; when grown, it knows to respect its elders. To love one's relatives is Benevolence; to respect one’s elders is Righteousness. Nothing more—it is simply that these are extended throughout the world."

"Liangneng" is what can be done without learning; "Liangzhi" is what can be known without deliberation. This shows that the core meaning of "Liang" is "innate," "naturally endowed," or "not requiring subsequent cultivation or deliberation."

Therefore, the precise meaning of "Good Heart" (Liangxin) should be: "The good heart that man possesses naturally, without needing subsequent cultivation or learning." The specific manifestations of this good heart are the heart of alarm/compassion, shame/aversion, yielding/deferring, and right/wrong discernment—these moral emotions are not learned but naturally endowed.

The fact that it is called "Liang" (Good) also carries another layer of meaning: it is not just any psychological state, but the best and most original state of the human heart. The human heart has various states—the heart of desire, the heart of fear, the heart of jealousy, the heart of anger—but "Liangxin" is the most fundamental, original state of the heart. Other psychological states are variations of "Liangxin" formed under the influence of external factors.

This idea resonates with the Great Learning (Daxue):

"The Way of the Great Learning lies in manifesting the luminous virtue (ming ming de), in loving the people (qin min), and in resting in the utmost good (zhi yu zhi shan)."

"Luminous Virtue" (Mingde) refers to the innate bright virtue possessed by man—this corresponds to Mencius’s "Liangxin." "Manifesting the luminous virtue" (ming ming de) means making manifest the innate bright virtue—this corresponds to Mencius’s "seeking the lost heart" (qiu fang xin). The reason "luminous virtue" needs to be "manifested" is that it has been obscured (like the mountain wood being completely cut down, the conscience lost). But the "luminous virtue" itself has not vanished, only obscured, so it can be revealed again through "manifestation" (cultivation).

Chapter 8: "If cut down day after day, could it remain beautiful$21" — The Doctrine of Daily Erosion

Section 8.1 "Cut down day after day" (Dan dan er fa zhi): Continuous Felling

"Dan dan er fa zhi"—Felled day after day. "Dan dan" means day after day, repeatedly. These four characters describe a constant, uninterrupted destruction.

The previous statement spoke of "cutting with axes and adzes" (fu jin fa zhi), which mentioned the tool but not the frequency. This addition of "dan dan" clarifies that the felling is a daily occurrence. This supplement is extremely important—it elevates "occasional destruction" to "continuous destruction," and "one-time loss" to "cumulative loss."

Why is "cut down day after day" more terrifying than "occasional cutting"$22 Because occasional cutting allows the wood time to recover—after one felling, if it stops, the new shoots have a chance to grow. But daily cutting allows no time for recovery—the new shoots that sprouted yesterday are cut down today.

This parallels the human conscience: if the erosion by material desire is occasional, the conscience still has room to recover; if the erosion by material desire is ceaseless day after day, the conscience will never have a chance to recover.

"Dan dan er fa zhi" also implies a state of "habituation"—the woodcutters cut daily and have become accustomed to it, not feeling anything amiss. Similarly, those who pursue material desires indulge daily and have formed a habit, not realizing they are losing their conscience.

This echoes Confucius’s words in the Analects (Yang Huo): "By nature, men are nearly alike; by practice, they get to be wide apart." The "Xi" (practice) refers to the fixed patterns formed by repeated actions. Good habits form virtues, and bad habits form vices. The reason bad habits are hard to detect and change is precisely because they are "dan dan"—occurring daily, integrated into daily life, as natural as breathing, to the point that the person is unaware of their existence.

Section 8.2 "Could it remain beautiful$23" — The Second Rhetorical Question

"Could it remain beautiful$24" (Ke yi wei mei hu$25) This rhetorical question appears for the second time in the chapter (the first being "Could it remain beautiful after being cut down by axes and adzes$26"). The same question appears twice, but the context differs. The first time is within the analogy of the mountain wood; the second time is within the discourse on the human heart.

The first "Could it remain beautiful$27" asks: Can the mountain wood remain luxuriant under daily felling$28 The second "Could it remain beautiful$29" asks: Can the conscience be preserved under daily erosion$30

The answer to both is negative. However, the meaning of the negative is not to induce despair, but to clarify the cause—the "lack of beauty" is not due to the inherent nature being ugly, but due to "daily cutting." Recognizing the cause suggests the direction for the solution: Stop "daily cutting" and give the conscience a chance to recover.

Chapter 9: "That which rested day and night, the energy of the clear dawn" — The Doctrine of Night Energy (Yeqi)

Section 9.1 "Rested day and night": Repetition and Deepening

The phrase "Rested day and night" (Ri ye zhi suo xi) already appeared in the wood analogy. Its re-emergence here shifts the context from "mountain wood" to "human heart." Just as the mountain wood has "rest between day and night" allowing shoots to grow, the human heart also has "rest between day and night," allowing the conscience to recover.

This "rest between day and night" is intimately related to the rhythm of the Heavenly Way. The I Ching (Xici Zhuan) states:

"One Yin and one Yang constitute the Dao. That which follows it is Goodness (shan); that which completes it is Nature (xing)."

The alternation of Yin and Yang is the fundamental rhythm of the Heavenly Way—day is Yang, night is Yin; motion is Yang, stillness is Yin. Human life also follows this rhythm—activity during the day (Yang), rest during the night (Yin). During the day, man is involved in social interactions and temptations of material desire, making the conscience prone to erosion; at night, man is away from these disturbances, and the conscience can rest and recover.

The I Ching (Fu Hexagram, Judgment):

"Reversal (Fu), perhaps this reveals the heart of Heaven and Earth!"

The Fu Hexagram (☷ above ☳ below) symbolizes the return of Yang energy. One Yang at the bottom, five Yin above—though the Yang energy is slight, it has begun to return from the very bottom. This image perfectly corresponds to Mencius’s discourse on "Yeqi": the human conscience begins to recover from the very bottom during the night (One Yang returning).

The I Ching (Fu Hexagram, Image): "Thunder is within the earth, this is Reversal (Fu). The ancient kings, at the winter solstice, closed their gates, forbade merchants from traveling, and did not inspect the regions." The winter solstice marks the initial return of Yang energy, and the sage-kings closed their gates to allow that faint Yang energy to be fully nurtured without disturbance. This is entirely consistent with Mencius’s doctrine of "Yeqi": During the night (the moment Yang energy begins to return), one must allow the conscience to rest quietly, undisturbed by external things.

Section 9.2 "The Energy of the Clear Dawn" (Pingdan zhi qi): Clarity at Dawn

"The energy of the clear dawn" (Pingdan zhi qi) is one of the most important concepts in this chapter.

"Pingdan" refers to the time just before dawn, when the sky is beginning to lighten. Zhao Qi annotates: "Pingdan means the time of clear dawn." At this time, one has just woken from sleep; the night's nourishment is complete, and the day's distractions have not yet begun—this is the moment when the human heart is clearest and closest to its original state.

Why is the "energy of the clear dawn" particularly significant$31

First, "Pingdan" is the moment of Yin-Yang transition. Night belongs to Yin, day to Yang. Pingdan is the moment Yin turns to Yang—the stillness of Yin has completed the nourishment of the conscience, and the activity of Yang has not yet begun to interfere with it. The psychological state at this moment is the purest.

Second, "Pingdan" is the juncture between sleep and wakefulness. During sleep, one is not in contact with external things, not tempted by sensory pleasures and desires, allowing the conscience to return to its original state. Upon waking, yesterday’s desires have faded, and today’s have not yet arisen; the heart’s state is closest to the appearance of the "Good Heart."

Third, the character "Qi" (energy/breath) in "Energy of the Clear Dawn" deserves attention. Why not say "Heart of the Clear Dawn" (Pingdan zhi xin) but "Energy of the Clear Dawn" (Pingdan zhi qi)$32 "Qi" is a crucial concept in pre-Qin philosophy.

Mencius (Gongsun Chou I) records:

"I am skilled at cultivating my vast, flowing energy (haoran zhi qi)." "May I ask what is the haoran zhi qi$33" "It is difficult to speak of. As an energy, it is supremely great and supremely firm. If nourished straightforwardly and without harm, it fills the space between Heaven and Earth. As an energy, it matches Righteousness and the Dao; without these, it becomes weak. This is what is born from the accumulation of Righteousness, not seized by a sudden act of righteousness. If one acts without complacency in one's heart, one becomes weak."

The haoran zhi qi is "supremely great and supremely firm," requiring "straightforward nourishment without harm." It "matches Righteousness and the Dao" and is "born from the accumulation of Righteousness." This haoran zhi qi is the state of spiritual fullness when goodness is completely realized—the towering tree.

The "Energy of the Clear Dawn" (Pingdan zhi qi) relates to the haoran zhi qi as its seed and foundation—it is the existence of the energy of goodness in its weakest, most initial state—the new sprout. If haoran zhi qi is the fully grown tree, pingdan zhi qi is the newly emerging shoot.

The term "Qi" in pre-Qin thought also has another important meaning—it is the intermediary connecting the mind and the body. The heart (xin) is spiritual, the body is material, and "Qi" lies between them. For human goodness to manifest in the real world, it must pass through "Qi." The clarity of the "Pingdan zhi qi" implies that the body and mind are in a harmonious, unified state at this time, allowing goodness to flow out naturally.

The Guanzi (Neiye chapter) discusses the relationship between qi and the heart in depth:

"When a person is born, Heaven produces his essence (jing), and Earth produces his form (xing). These combine to make a person. Harmony produces life; disharmony does not produce life. To observe the Way of Harmony, its essence cannot be seen, and its manifestation cannot be detected. When uprightness is established in the chest, governance resides in the heart; this leads to longevity. Anger and sorrow cause the qi to be lost; worry and fear cause the essence to be depleted; when essence is depleted, it sinks below—this is called essence depletion. The beginning of rage is when qi sinks low. Thus, illnesses arising from the upper burner are due to this."

This passage reveals the relationship between qi and the heart: when the heart is balanced and upright, the qi is harmonious; when afflicted by anger or sorrow, the qi becomes disordered. The clarity of the "Pingdan zhi qi" is precisely because the heart is balanced and upright at this time, free from anger or worry, thus the qi is harmonious and luminous.

The Guanzi (Neiye) further states:

"All Dao has no root, no stem, no leaves, no flourishing. All things are born from it, all things are completed by it; this is called Dao. ... If reverence sweeps away its dwelling place, essence will naturally arrive. If essence concentrates and ponders, and contemplation manages it, with stern demeanor, awe, and reverence, essence will attain stillness. Grasp this and do not let go; let the eyes and ears not be licentious, let the heart have no other goals; establish the heart in the center, and all things will be properly situated."

"If reverence sweeps away its dwelling place, essence will naturally arrive" (Jing chu qi she, jing jiang zi lai)—If one respectfully cleanses the dwelling place of the mind, the pure essence (jing) will arrive on its own. This parallels Mencius’s view: when the mind is allowed to rest quietly at night (the "rest between day and night"), the "qi" of the conscience will naturally recover (the "energy of the clear dawn").

Section 9.3 "How close their likes and dislikes are to those of others": The Faintness of the Sprouts of Goodness

"The energy of the clear dawn, how close their likes and dislikes are to those of other people, is but slight" (Qi hao wu yu ren xiang jin ye zhe ji xi). At the time of clear dawn, the degree to which a person's orientation toward liking good and disliking evil approaches that of a normal, good person is very slight.

This sentence is one of the most difficult in the entire chapter. Zhao Qi annotates: "The energy of the clear dawn still possesses a sliver of good heart, and the degree to which its liking of good and disliking of evil approaches that of a good person is very slight."

Why is it stated as "slight" (ji xi)—very few$34 Because Mencius here is discussing a person whose conscience has been severely lost. This person has committed evil acts day after day during the day ("cut down day after day"), and although the conscience recovers somewhat at night, the degree of recovery is extremely limited. By the time of clear dawn, the person genuinely feels a sliver of goodwill—the heart for liking good and disliking evil exists faintly—but this sliver of goodness, compared to the heart of a normal, virtuous person, is "but slight."

The phrase "ji xi" is extremely precise. "Ji" means subtle or near; "Xi" means few or rare. Together, "ji xi" expresses a state of extreme faintness that has not yet completely vanished. This is like the last remaining new shoot on the barren Ox Mountain—almost invisible, but still present.

Why emphasize this "slightness"$35 Because Mencius intends to achieve two things:

First, acknowledge reality—indeed, for a person who has long done evil, their conscience is very weak. Mencius is not a utopian idealist who ignores reality; he confronts the seriousness of moral degradation.

Second, maintain the principle—although it is "slight," "slight" does not equal "none." As long as even a hair's breadth of liking good and disliking evil remains, it proves that the root of goodness has not been utterly destroyed, and the proposition that human nature is inherently good still stands. This is like stating that as long as even one shoot remains on the barren mountain, it proves the mountain has the capacity to grow trees—even if everyone in the world says, "this mountain never grows trees."

The Analects (Book 9, 30th chapter) records:

The Master said: "It is like building a mound. If I stop when I am one basket-load short of completion, it is I who stopped. If I level the ground, and though I have only added one basket-load, I advance, it is I who advance."

Confucius uses the analogy of building a mound to discuss learning: If you stop just one basket short of finishing the mound, it is your fault for stopping; if you start from flat ground and add just one basket-load, and you advance, it is your progress. This analogy illustrates: a low starting point (even if only "ji xi" remains) is not the problem; the key is whether one continues. Even if only a "slight" amount of goodness remains, if one starts from that "slightness" and continually expands it, one can eventually restore the entirety of the conscience.

Chapter 10: "Then what they do during the day is to restrain and extinguish it" — The Shackles of Daytime Actions

Section 10.1 "What they do during the day": Daytime Activities

"Dan zhou zhi suo wei"—What is done during the day. Daytime is when a person interacts most frequently with external things—work, socializing, pursuing profit, facing competition, confronting temptation—all these activities risk eroding the conscience.

The logic here parallels the earlier sequence of "sprouting of new shoots" → "cattle and sheep grazing":

• Night (rest between day and night) → Slight recovery of the conscience (energy of the clear dawn).
• Day (daytime actions) → The conscience is extinguished again (restrained and extinguished).

This forms a vicious cycle: a little recovery at night, a little annihilation during the day; the amount annihilated during the day is greater than the amount recovered at night, resulting in a net negative effect. Day after day, the conscience diminishes until it tends toward zero.

Section 10.2 "Restrain and Extinguish" (Gu Wang): Constraint and Annihilation

"Gu" refers to a handcuff. Zhao Qi annotates: "Gu means fetters." Using "Gu" to describe the loss of conscience implies two layers of meaning:

First, "Constraint"—the conscience is bound by external actions and desires, unable to function freely. The conscience is originally lively and vigorous, but under the siege of material desire, it is bound and immobilized.

Second, "Annihilation"—"Wang" means death or extinction. "Gu Wang" describes a process from constraint to extinction—first being shackled, then slowly suffocating to death.

Why use "Gu" instead of "killing" (sha) or "smashing" (fa)$36 Because "Gu" describes a slow, progressive, indirect mode of annihilation, not a direct killing blow. The conscience is not killed instantly but is slowly suffocated by continuous, daily restraint. This echoes the "daily" (dan dan) aspect of the earlier phrase—emphasizing continuous, incremental destruction.

The term "Gu" also carries another layer of meaning: it suggests coercion by an external force. Handcuffs are instruments of punishment used to restrict a prisoner’s freedom. The restraint imposed on the conscience by material desire is like handcuffs on a prisoner, robbing the conscience of its freedom.

This imagery echoes profound passages in pre-Qin literature. The Zhuangzi, Chapter on "Free Wandering" (Xiaoyao You), describes various forms of "unfreedom":

"The Cicada and the Turtle-Dove laugh at it the Roc, saying: 'We start up and fly, and stop at the elm or the hackberry. When we don't reach them, we just fall to the ground. Why fly to the height of 90,000 li and go south$37'"

The Cicada and the Turtle-Dove cannot comprehend why the Roc flies 90,000 li—because their own capacities limit them to flying between elms and hackberries. Their "incomprehension" stems precisely from their own "constraint." Similarly, a person whose conscience is "Gu" (shackled) cannot comprehend why a good person acts righteously—because they themselves are constrained by material desires and cannot experience the freedom of conscience.

Section 10.3 "Repeatedly restrained": The Formation of the Vicious Cycle

"Repeatedly restrained, then the night energy cannot be preserved" (Gu zhi fan fu, ze qi ye qi bu zu yi cun). Restrained time and again ("repeatedly"), the clear energy of the night is no longer sufficient to sustain itself.

"Fan fu" means back and forth, time and again. Daytime restraint and extinguishment → Nighttime recovery → Daytime restraint and extinguishment again → Nighttime recovery again... this cycle repeats. In each cycle, the daytime destruction outweighs the nighttime recovery—because daytime activities are longer, involve more contact with external objects, and more temptations of desire, while nighttime rest is shorter and recovery power weaker. Day after day, the conscience weakens until it cannot sustain itself.

Why does the "night energy fail to be preserved" (ye qi bu zu yi cun)$38 Because the recovery of the conscience requires a foundation. Just as plant regeneration requires residual root systems, the recovery of conscience requires residual sprouts of goodness. If the daytime restraint is too severe, eliminating even the residual sprouts, then the nighttime "qi" has nothing to attach to, and cannot function in recovery.

This is analogous to the Ox Mountain wood: if only the large trees are cut, the roots remain, and new shoots can grow. But if even the new shoots are eaten by cattle and sheep, and the roots wither from prolonged lack of photosynthesis, then even with rest day and night and moisture from dew and rain, nothing on the mountain can grow.

"Night energy fails to be preserved" describes this critical state of utter loss—the "root" of the sprout of goodness has almost died, and the nighttime "qi" (the grace of the Heavenly Way) can no longer awaken it.

A profound philosophical question arises here: Can the sprouts of goodness truly die completely$39 If they can, then Mencius’s doctrine of inherent goodness loses its foundation—are some people truly "naturally evil" (because their sprouts are completely gone)$40

Mencius’s answer is reserved yet firm. He says the "night energy is insufficient to be preserved," but he does not say "the night energy is nonexistent." "Insufficient to be preserved" means the night energy is too weak to sustain the existence of the sprouts, but it does not mean the night energy has completely vanished. Even in the worst case, as long as a person is alive and still experiences the "rest between day and night," there will always be a sliver of "yeqi"—though possibly so faint as to be imperceptible, theoretically it can never reach zero.

This corresponds to another passage in Mencius (Gaozi II):

Mencius said: "Even the things in the world that grow most easily, if exposed to the sun for one day and chilled for ten, none will survive. I have rarely seen this; I retreat and chill them for ten days. What if they had a single sprout$41"

"Exposed for one day and chilled for ten"—a day of sun followed by ten days of severe cold. Even the easiest growing plants cannot survive under these conditions. This analogy illustrates: if cultivation efforts are not continuous, momentary effort is useless—the "day of sun" is like the nighttime rest, and the "ten days of cold" are like the daytime restraint. When recovery time is short and destruction time is long, the sprouts of goodness naturally cannot survive.

However, "none will survive" does not mean "it is impossible to survive forever." If the conditions are changed—no longer chilling them for ten days, but continuously exposing them to the sun—the plants can still grow. Similarly, if the mode of action is changed—no longer "cutting down day after day"—but consistently nurturing the conscience, the sprouts of goodness can still recover.

Chapter 11: "If the night energy is insufficient to be preserved, then one will not be far from birds and beasts" — Distinguishing Man from Beast

Section 11.1 "Not Far from Birds and Beasts": How Man Degenerates into Beast

"If the night energy is insufficient to be preserved, then one will not be far from birds and beasts" (Ye qi bu zu yi cun, ze qi wei qin shou bu yuan yi). If the clear energy of the night is insufficient to preserve the sprouts of goodness, then this person is not far different from beasts.

"Wei" means distant. "Not far from birds and beasts" (Wei qin shou bu yuan) means "not far separated from birds and beasts."

Why does the failure to preserve the sprouts of goodness (yeqi bu zu yi cun) lead to being "not far from beasts"$42 Because in Mencius's system, the fundamental thing that distinguishes man from beasts is the "heart of Benevolence and Righteousness"—the sprouts of alarm/compassion, shame/aversion, yielding/deferring, and right/wrong discernment. If these sprouts are completely lost, man loses the fundamental characteristic that makes him human, and in behavior and psychology, he becomes no different from beasts.

This "distinction between man and beast" (ren qin zhi bian) is a crucial theme throughout Mencius’s thought. Mencius (Li Lou II) records:

Mencius said: "The difference between man and beast is slight; the common people cast it away, but the superior man preserves it. Shun was enlightened about the myriad things and perceptive about human relationships; he acted from benevolence and righteousness, rather than acting to practice benevolence and righteousness."

"The difference between man and beast is slight" (Ren zhi suo yi yi yu qin shou zhe ji xi)—the difference is small. This "slightness" (ji xi) echoes the "slightness" from the previous chapter ("how close their likes and dislikes are to those of other people, is but slight"). This creates a profound correspondence:

• The difference between man and beast is originally "slight" (ji xi).
• A person who loses their conscience has only a "slight" (ji xi) capacity for liking good and disliking evil compared to a normal person.
• When the second "slightness" tends toward zero, the first "slightness" also tends toward zero—man truly degenerates into a beast.

"The common people cast it away, but the superior man preserves it" (Shu min qu zhi, junzi cun zhi)—The common people discard this "slight" difference, while the superior man preserves it. This "discarding" (qu) is similar to the "abandonment" (fang) of the good heart, and this "preserving" (cun) is similar to the "holding onto" (cao) in "holding onto it, it exists."

"Shun was enlightened about the myriad things... he acted from benevolence and righteousness, rather than acting to practice benevolence and righteousness" (You ren yi xing, fei xing ren yi ye)—Shun understood all things and discerned human relationships; his actions naturally conformed to benevolence and righteousness, rather than being a forced practice of them. This passage reveals the highest state of cultivation: not forcing oneself to do good, but allowing goodness to flow forth naturally after the sprouts of goodness have been fully expanded. This is analogous to the Ox Mountain wood—after obtaining full nourishment, it grows luxuriantly without needing artificial urging.

Section 11.2 The Intellectual History of "Distinguishing Man from Beast" in Pre-Qin Thought

The "distinction between man and beast" is one of the core issues in pre-Qin philosophy.

(A) Distinction in the Book of Documents

The Book of Documents (Taishi Shang) records King Wu’s words:

"Heaven and Earth are the parents of the myriad things; Man is the most spirit (ling) among the myriad things."

"Man is the most spirit" (Ren, wan wu zhi ling)—Man is the most perceptive among all things. This "Ling" (spirit/perceptive) refers not only to intellectual cleverness but also to moral perception—man can discern good and evil, right and wrong, which beasts cannot. This aligns perfectly with Mencius’s "heart of discerning right and wrong is the sprout of Wisdom."

(B) Distinction in the Analects

The Analects (Chapter 18, 7th chapter) records:

Changju and Jieni were plowing together. Confucius passed by and asked Zilu to inquire about the way. Changju said: "Who is that holding the reins$43" Zilu replied: "It is Kong Qiu." He asked: "Is that Kong Qiu of Lu$44" He replied: "Yes." He said: "He knows the way!" Zilu inquired of Jieni. Jieni asked: "Who are you$45" He replied: "I am Zhong You." He asked: "Are you a disciple of Kong Qiu of Lu$46" He replied: "Yes." He said: "The whole world is overflowing with such people who meddle in politics, who would exchange with them$47 Rather than follow a man who avoids people, why not follow a man who avoids the world$48" Jieni continued plowing without stopping. Zilu went and reported this to the Master. The Master was displeased and said: "Birds and beasts cannot be associated with. If I do not associate with the people of this age, with whom shall I associate$49 If the Dao prevailed in the world, I would not be one to change it!"

"Birds and beasts cannot be associated with" (Niao shou bu ke yu tong qun)—Confucius flatly refused to associate with birds and beasts. He chose to remain among men, even if the world was "overflowing" (chaotic), he would strive to change it. This expresses Confucius’s adherence to the identity of "man"—man ought to associate with men and do what men ought to do.

This echoes Mencius’s warning about being "not far from birds and beasts": if one loses their conscience, they "are not far from birds and beasts"—meaning they lose the fundamental characteristic of being human because they have lost the foundation of humanity. Confucius says "birds and beasts cannot be associated with," while Mencius says a person who loses their conscience "is not far from birds and beasts"—their concerns are identical: upholding the dignity and standard of being human.

(C) Distinction in the Book of Rites

The Book of Rites (Quli I) states:

"Parrots can speak but do not leave the category of flying birds; apes can speak but do not leave the category of beasts. If a man speaks but lacks propriety (li), is he not a beast in heart, though his speech is human$50"

Parrots and apes can mimic human speech but remain beasts because they lack li (propriety, broadly interpreted as benevolence, righteousness, wisdom, and propriety). Similarly, if a person lacks li, though outwardly human, his heart is essentially that of a beast. This fully aligns with Mencius’s statement that people "see him as a beast."

(D) Distinction in Xunzi

Xunzi (Wang Zhi chapter) states:

"Water and fire have qi but no life; grass and trees have life but no awareness; birds and beasts have awareness but no righteousness (yi); man has qi, has life, has awareness, and moreover has righteousness. Therefore, man is the most precious thing under Heaven."

Xunzi asserts that "righteousness" (yi) is the key distinction between man and beast—beasts have senses (can feel pain and pleasure) but lack "yi" (the capacity for moral judgment). Man has senses and also yi, thus "man is the most precious thing under Heaven."

Although Xunzi advocates "innate evil," claiming righteousness is an acquired artificiality, on the point that "yi" is the key distinction between man and beast, Xunzi agrees with Mencius. The difference is: Mencius believes the sprouts of righteousness are innate (yi is the sprout of the heart of shame/aversion), while Xunzi believes yi is acquired through practice (its goodness is artificiality).

Section 11.3 Why "When people see him as a beast, they assume there was never any talent": Re-criticism of Cognitive Error

"When people see him as a beast and assume there was never any talent, is this the true disposition of man$51" (Ren jian qi qin shou ye, er yi wei wei chang you cai ye zhe, shi qi ren zhi qing ye zai$52)

This sentence structurally parallels the earlier one: "When people see it barren and assume there was never any timber, is this the nature of the mountain$53" (Ren jian qi zhuo zhuo ye, yi wei wei chang you cai ye, ci qi shan zhi xing ye zai$54)

The characters "Cai" (timber) and "Cai" (talent) share the same pronunciation but different meanings, forming a subtle echo.

"Xing" (Nature) and "Qing" (Disposition/True State)—"Qing" here means "true state" or "original face," not "emotion." The Zhuangzi (Qiwulun) asks: "Is this true$57 Is this not true$58" This "zhen" (true) is analogous to "Qing" here.

Mencius again criticizes the fallacy of deducing inherent nature from phenomenal results. People see a person behaving like a beast and conclude that this person "never had any sprouts of goodness"—this is just like seeing a barren mountain and concluding "this mountain never grew trees." Both commit the same error: inferring nature from results while ignoring the process that led to those results.

"Is this the true disposition of man$59" (Shi qi ren zhi qing ye zai$60)—Is this the true disposition of man$61 Certainly not! Man's true disposition possesses the sprouts of goodness, the heart of benevolence and righteousness. Beast-like behavior is not a manifestation of true nature, but a state of degeneration following the loss of conscience.

Chapter 12: "Thus, if they obtain nurture, nothing will fail to grow; if they lose nurture, nothing will fail to diminish" — General Discussion on Nurturing and Not Nurturing

Section 12.1 "If they obtain nurture, nothing will fail to grow" — The Power of Nurture

These two sentences are the summarizing proposition of the entire chapter, elevating the "Wood of Ox Mountain analogy" and the "discourse on the human heart" to a universal philosophical level.

"If they obtain nurture, nothing will fail to grow" (Gou de qi yang, wu wu bu zhang)—As long as appropriate nurturing is obtained, nothing fails to grow. This proposition applies to all living things: plants grow if they obtain nurture (soil, dew, sunlight); animals grow if they obtain nurture (food, water, habitat); and human goodness sprouts grow if they obtain nurture (cultivation, favorable environment, rest day and night).

"If they lose nurture, nothing will fail to diminish" (Gou shi qi yang, wu wu bu xiao)—As long as nurturing is lost, nothing fails to diminish. This proposition is the inverse of the former: plants diminish if they lose nurture, animals diminish if they lose nurture, and human sprouts of goodness diminish if they lose nurture.

The philosophical significance of these two lines is profound:

First, they establish the centrality of "Nurture" (Yang). In Mencius’s system, "Yang" is a more fundamental concept than "Xing" (Nature). Inherent goodness of nature is important, but if that goodness is not nurtured, it will also perish. Therefore, merely knowing that "nature is good" is insufficient; one must also know how to "nurture" that nature.

Second, they shift the problem of good and evil from the level of "original nature" to the level of "nurturing." The key to good and evil lies not in whether the nature is good or evil (Mencius has already argued that nature is good), but whether the nature has been nurtured. The same person, if nurtured, will be good; if un-nurtured, will be evil—the difference lies not in nature, but in nurture.

Third, they contain an optimistic conviction: as long as one "obtains nurture," goodness can be restored. Even a person whose conscience has been so eroded as to be "not far from beasts" can cause their sprouts of goodness to regrow if they begin to nurture them ("If they obtain nurture"). This provides eternal hope for moral cultivation.

Section 12.2 The Concept of "Nurture" (Yang) in Pre-Qin Literature

The concept of "Yang" has rich meanings in pre-Qin literature:

(A) Nurture for Survival (Yang Sheng)

The Book of Documents (Wuyi):

The Duke of Zhou said: "Alas! The superior man should never be idle. If he first knows the hardship of planting and reaping, he will not be idle. Only then will he know how common people depend on him. When the common people toil in planting and reaping for the parents of the ruler, their children do not know the hardship and become idle and insolent. When they become spoiled, they insult their parents, saying: 'The people of old had no knowledge.'"

The Duke of Zhou warned King Cheng not to be complacent. Complacency is the greatest threat to virtue—once a person is complacent, he ceases diligent cultivation, and the sprouts of goodness will wither. This is analogous to the Ox Mountain wood, which can grow when no one is cutting it, but if the people on the mountain stop tending the forest and allow cattle and sheep to graze, the wood will still be destroyed. "Yang" is not just "not destroying," but also "actively tending."

(B) Nurture for Life (Yang Sheng)

The I Ching (Daxu Hexagram, Image): "Heaven is above the mountain, Great Accumulation (Daxu). The superior man, by knowing the words and actions of the past, accumulates (chu) his virtue."

"Chu qi de" means to nurture one's virtue. The superior man accumulates (nurtures) his virtue by learning the words and deeds of those who came before.

The I Ching (Meng Hexagram, Judgment): "To nurture what is upright from the beginning (meng yi yang zheng), this is the achievement of the Sage."

"Yang zheng"—To establish correct conduct at the very beginning of ignorance is the achievement of the Sage. This aligns with Mencius’s idea that the sprouts of goodness must be nurtured from an early stage.

(C) Nurture of the Heart (Yang Xin)

The Mencius (Jinxin II) states:

"Cultivating the heart/mind (yang xin) is best achieved by reducing desires (gua yu). If a person has few desires, even if some things are not preserved, they will be few; if a person has many desires, even if some things are preserved, they will be few."

Reducing desires is the best way to nurture the heart/mind (nurture the conscience). The fewer the desires, the less the mountain wood (conscience) is cut, and the easier it is for it to recover and grow. This is entirely consistent with the logic of the "Wood of Ox Mountain" chapter: reduce the "axes and adzes" (material desires), and the mountain wood (conscience) can naturally recover and grow.

(D) Nurture of Qi (Yang Qi)

The Mencius (Gongsun Chou I) records:

"I am skilled at cultivating my vast, flowing energy (haoran zhi qi)."

Nurturing qi is closely related to nurturing the heart/mind. "Qi" is the intermediary between heart and body, so nurturing the heart requires achieving the nurturing of qi. The haoran zhi qi is the state of spirit when goodness is fully realized—"supremely great and supremely firm, if nourished straightforwardly and without harm, it fills the space between Heaven and Earth."

Section 12.3 Systematic Examination of the Doctrine of "Nurture" in Pre-Qin Texts

The doctrine of "Yang" (nurture) is richly and diversely explored among the pre-Qin schools:

The Book of Documents (Pan Geng):

"O you multitude of people! You do not cherish life (bu sheng sheng). If you and I, the solitary ruler, share one mind, then calamity will not descend upon you. The virtue of the Xia dynasty was like this, now I must go to destroy it."

"Bu sheng sheng" means "not taking life as life"—not cherishing life. Here, "life" (sheng) is used as a verb and a noun, meaning "cherishing life"—valuing life and caring for it.

The Book of Documents (Taishi):

"Heaven blesses the common people, and establishes rulers and teachers for them, so that they may assist the Supreme Emperor and graciously protect the Four Quarters."

Heaven blesses the people and establishes rulers and teachers to nurture them—this is the manifestation of the Heavenly Way's "life-giving virtue" (sheng de) in the political realm. Heaven does not directly govern the people but nurtures them through rulers and teachers—just as Heaven does not directly cause mountain wood to grow but nurtures it through the dew and rain and the rhythm of day and night.

The Book of Songs (Daya, Zheng Min):

"How joyous is this gentleman, whose virtue is bright and excellent. He benefits the people and benefits others, receiving his emolument from Heaven. Heaven preserves and supports his life, and continues it for him."

"Heaven preserves and supports his life, and continues it for him" (Bao you ming zhi, zi tian shen zhi)—Heaven nurtures the fate and virtue of the good man. This resonates with Mencius’s "moistened by dew and rain"—the nurturing of the Heavenly Way is a constant grace.

The Zuo Zhuan (1st year of Duke Zhao), words of Zichan:

"I have heard that the superior man has four seasons for activity: in the morning he hears official matters, during the day he makes inquiries, in the evening he corrects orders, and at night he rests his body. Thus, he regulates and loosens his qi, preventing it from becoming blocked or stagnant, which would expose his body. In this way, his heart does not falter, and the hundred matters of the state are managed. Now, if you concentrate on only one thing, illness will arise."

Zichan discusses the gentleman’s cultivation of life, emphasizing the rhythm of four phases in a day—morning, day, evening, and night, each with its function. "Rests his body at night" (ye yi an shen)—night is the time to rest and nourish the body. This is completely consistent with Mencius’s idea of "rest between day and night." Zichan also mentions "regulating and loosening the qi" (jie xuan qi), preventing it from becoming blocked. This can be cross-referenced with Mencius’s discussion of the "energy of the clear dawn."

The Guanzi (Xin Shu Shang):

"When a person is born, it is with joy. Worry disrupts the order; anger disrupts the sprouts. Worry, sorrow, joy, and anger, the Dao has no place to reside. Desire and pleasure must be quieted; disorder must be corrected. Do not pull or push; fortune will naturally return. That Dao comes on its own; it can be borrowed and consulted. If one is placid and content, the Dao remains; if one is rash and careless, the Dao perishes."

"Desire and pleasure must be quieted; disorder must be corrected" (Ai yu jing zhi, yu luan zheng zhi). If desires are excessive, use stillness to adjust; if the heart is chaotic, use uprightness to correct it. "If one is placid and content, the Dao remains; if one is rash and careless, the Dao perishes" (Tian yu, dao cun; zao hu, dao wang). This completely aligns with Mencius's statement, "If they obtain nurture, nothing will fail to grow; if they lose nurture, nothing will fail to diminish"—obtaining nurture (placid and content) preserves the Dao, losing nurture (rash and careless, sorrowful and angry) causes the Dao to perish.

Chapter 13: "If held, it exists; if released, it perishes; it appears and disappears without fixed timing, and no one knows its whereabouts." — Citing Confucius to Affirm the Doctrine of the Heart

Section 13.1 The Source and Meaning of Confucius’s Statement

At the end of this chapter, Mencius quotes a saying attributed to Confucius: "If held, it exists (cao ze cun); if released, it perishes (she ze wang); it appears and disappears without fixed timing (chu ru wu shi), and no one knows its whereabouts (mo zhi qi xiang)." He concludes with, "Is this not what refers to the Heart (xin)$1"

This statement is not found in the extant version of the Analects; it might stem from an alternate version known to Mencius, or from oral tradition passed down from the Confucians. Zhao Qi annotates: "Confucius speaks of the heart."

The meaning of these four lines is:

• "If held, it exists" (Cao ze cun)—Grasp it (the heart/conscience), and it exists.
• "If released, it perishes" (She ze wang)—Let it go, and it vanishes.
• "It appears and disappears without fixed timing" (Chu ru wu shi)—Its emergence and disappearance have no set schedule.
• "No one knows its whereabouts" (Mo zhi qi xiang)—No one knows where it has gone.

These four lines precisely describe the characteristics of the Heart (Xin):

First, the existence or perishing of the heart depends on "holding" (cao) or "releasing" (she). "Cao" means to grasp or hold firmly. "She" means to abandon or let go. The heart is not a fixed, unchanging entity—it can exist at any moment and vanish at any moment. The key lies in whether one actively "holds" it. This is completely consistent with the overall theme of the chapter: the existence or perishing of the conscience does not depend on innate possession (everyone has sprouts of goodness), but on subsequent "holding" or "releasing" (whether one nurtures it).

Second, the emergence and disappearance of the heart have no fixed timing. "Emergence" (ru) is like "existence" (cun), and "disappearance" (chu) is like "perishing" (wang). The presence or loss of conscience follows no fixed schedule—it can be awakened at any moment, and it can be lost at any moment. This characteristic makes cultivation extremely difficult: you cannot say, "I only need to cultivate my conscience for a fixed time each day."

Third, where the heart goes when lost is unknowable. "Xiang" means direction or destination. Once the conscience is lost, where did it go$2 Unknown. Unlike a chicken or dog that can be tracked by footprints, when the conscience "runs away," you don't even know where it went.

Section 13.2 "Holding, it Exists" and Pre-Qin Cultivation Practice

"If held, it exists" (Cao ze cun)—This implies that maintaining moral cultivation is not a one-time achievement but a continuous effort requiring vigilance at all times. You cannot say, "I have cultivated myself to a certain level, so I will never lose my conscience again"—because "if released, it perishes," and relaxation at any time can cause the conscience to vanish.

This idea resonates widely in pre-Qin texts:

The Analects (Book 1, 4th chapter) records:

Zengzi said: "I examine myself daily on three points—in transacting business for others, have I been unfaithful$3 In intercourse with friends, have I been untrustworthy$4 Have I not practiced what is taught$5"

Zengzi examined himself three times a day—this is the concrete practice of "Cao." The fact that he examined himself "daily" implies cultivation must be a daily endeavor, not a one-time event.

The Analects (Book 7, 22nd chapter) records:

The Master said: "If virtue is not cultivated, learning is not put into practice, hearing of righteousness and not being moved by it, having faults and not correcting them—these are my worries."

The Master’s worries are the failure to cultivate virtue, the failure to practice learning, the inability to follow righteousness when heard, and the failure to correct faults. The root of these worries lies in "releasing" (she ze wang)—once cultivation slackens, virtue regresses.

The Analects (Book 9, 28th chapter) records:

The Master said: "It passes on like flowing water! It never stops, day or night."

Time flows like water, ceaselessly day and night. While often interpreted as a lament on the passage of time, from the perspective of cultivation, it can also be understood as: moral cultivation must be continuous, like flowing water, "without stopping day or night." This aligns with the spirit of "If held, it exists."

The Great Learning states:

"The inscription on the washing basin of Tang said: 'If you can renew yourself each day, then renew yourself daily; yea, let there be daily renewal.'"

Shang Tang inscribed on his basin: "If today is new, then tomorrow should also be new, and the day after tomorrow should still be new." This meaning of "daily renewal" (ri xin) implies that moral cultivation must be constantly renewed and elevated daily, never slackening for a single day.

Section 13.3 "It Appears and Disappears Without Fixed Timing, No One Knows Its Whereabouts": The Unfathomable Nature of the Heart

"It appears and disappears without fixed timing, and no one knows its whereabouts" (Chu ru wu shi, mo zhi qi xiang) describes another crucial characteristic of the heart: its unpredictability.

Why does the heart have this characteristic$6

From the perspective of pre-Qin philosophy, the heart lies between the metaphysical and the physical—it is not purely material (like the body), nor is it purely an idea (like the Heavenly Dao). It is the specific manifestation of the Heavenly Dao within man, yet it is constrained and influenced by material conditions. This "in-between" position grants the heart transcendence (it can grasp the Heavenly Dao and discern good and evil), but also limitation (it is easily obscured by external objects and influenced by passions and desires).

Because of this, the heart's behavior is not entirely predictable—you cannot be certain when it will "disappear" (be lost) or when it will "appear" (exist). Sometimes you think you have cultivated yourself to a high level, but suddenly a temptation arises, and the conscience wavers; other times, you think you have completely fallen, but a certain event touches your heart of compassion, and the conscience revives.

This unpredictability is both a difficulty and a hope in cultivation. The difficulty is: you can never relax your vigilance ("No one knows its whereabouts"—you don't know when the conscience might "run away" from what place). The hope is: even in the most desperate moments, the conscience might suddenly return ("It appears and disappears without fixed timing"—the return of conscience also follows no fixed schedule).

This idea closely relates to the doctrine of "Cautious Solitude" (Shen Du) in the Doctrine of the Mean:

"The Way, indeed, cannot be left for a moment. If it could be left, it would not be the Way. Therefore, the superior man is cautious and fearful when he is unseen, and fearful when he is unheard. Nothing is more visible than what is hidden, and nothing is more manifest than what is minute. Therefore, the superior man is careful about his solitude."

Why must one be "cautious in solitude"$7 Because the heart's "appearance and disappearance have no fixed timing"—the conscience might quietly slip away when one is alone, when no one is supervising, in the most subtle moments. Therefore, the superior man must cultivate virtue not only in public but also maintain vigilance when alone and in hidden places—this is the deep reason for "Shen Du."

Furthermore, the I Ching (Kun Hexagram, Wenyan):

"The family that accumulates goodness will surely have overflowing blessings; the family that accumulates non-goodness will surely have overflowing calamities. A minister murdering his ruler, or a son murdering his father—this is not the result of a single day or a single night; the origin has been gradual, resulting from not distinguishing it early. The I Ching says: 'Stepping on frost, the hard ice arrives.' This speaks of the flow of things."

"The origin has been gradual" (Qi suo you lai zhe jian yi)—Great disasters do not happen suddenly, but accumulate gradually, resulting from "not distinguishing it early." This is entirely consistent with Mencius: the loss of conscience is not an overnight event but the result of "cutting day after day" and "repeatedly restraining." If one had been vigilant and cultivated their virtue early on—when the new shoots were first nibbled, or when the night energy first began to wane—it would not have come to the point of being "not far from birds and beasts."

Chapter 14: The Metaphysical Basis of Inherent Goodness — The Connection Between the Heavenly Way and Human Nature

Section 14.1 The Relationship Between Heaven's Decree and Human Nature

Mencius’s doctrine of inherent goodness is not an isolated moral proposition; it is built upon a profound metaphysical foundation. This foundation is the interconnectedness of the Heavenly Way (Tiandao) and human nature (Renxing).

The opening three lines of the Doctrine of the Mean established the basic framework for this metaphysics:

"What Heaven imparts is called Nature (xing). Following this Nature is called the Way (dao). Cultivating the Way is called education (jiao)."

"What Heaven imparts is called Nature" (Tianming zhi wei xing)—Human nature originates from Heaven's impartment. This proposition traces the source of human nature back to the Heavenly Way, implying that the goodness of human nature is not accidental or artificial, but a necessary, natural aspect of the Heavenly Way. Heaven bestows human nature with goodness, just as Heaven bestows dew and rain to nourish all things—both are the natural flow of the Heavenly Way’s grace.

Why must Heaven’s impartment (the nature bestowed on man) necessarily be good$8 Because the Heavenly Way itself is good.

The I Ching (Xici Zhuan) states:

"One Yin and one Yang constitute the Dao. That which follows it is Goodness (shan); that which completes it is Nature (xing)."

"That which follows it is Goodness" (Jizhi zhe shan ye)—What continues the Dao is Goodness. "That which completes it is Nature" (Cheng zhi zhe xing ye)—What completes the Dao is Nature. The Dao continues itself through Goodness, and Goodness realizes itself concretely through Nature, forming a continuous chain.

The I Ching (Qian Hexagram, Judgment):

"Great is the Originating Power (Qianyuan) of the creative! It brings forth the myriad things, unifying Heaven. Clouds move and rain falls, disseminating the forms of things."

The Originating Power (the creative force of the Dao) brings forth the myriad things and disseminates the forms of things through moving clouds and falling rain. The essence of the Dao is "creation"—the continuous origination and nurturing of all things. This "creation" nature is "Goodness" (Shan)—the Dao continuously creates and nurtures all things; is this not the ultimate Goodness$9

Since human nature originates from Heaven’s impartment, and the essence of Heaven’s impartment is the goodness of creation, human nature must naturally be good. This is the metaphysical basis of Mencius’s doctrine of inherent goodness.

In the "Wood of Ox Mountain" chapter, this metaphysical basis is embodied in the form of "rest between day and night, moistened by dew and rain." The alternation of day and night is the rhythm of the Heavenly Way; the descent of dew and rain is the grace of the Heavenly Way—they allow the felled wood to sprout new shoots. This is analogous to the Heavenly Way continuously nurturing human goodness through its constant operation—even when goodness seems completely eroded, as long as the rhythm of the Heavenly Way (rest between day and night) and its grace (dew and rain) remain, the root of goodness has the possibility of recovery.

Section 14.2 The "Life-Giving" Nature of Heaven and the "Goodness" of Human Nature

The "life-giving" (sheng sheng) nature of the Heavenly Way is one of the most central propositions in pre-Qin philosophy.

The I Ching (Xici Zhuan) states:

"The constant succession of living and dying is called Change (Yi)."

"Sheng sheng" means continuous creation and continuation of life. The essence of the Heavenly Way is "sheng sheng"—ceaseless creation and nurturing. This "life-giving" virtue, when embodied in the human heart, manifests as the "sprouts of goodness" (shanduan)—the heart of alarm/compassion, shame/aversion, yielding/deferring, and discerning right/wrong. All these are manifestations of the "life-giving" virtue in the human heart.

The heart of alarm/compassion—being unable to bear seeing others suffer—is the feeling of the "life-giving" virtue. Because the Heavenly Way takes "life" as its basis, the human heart, sensing this "life" virtue, naturally develops an aversion to anything that harms life.

The heart of shame and aversion—feeling shame and disgust toward unrighteous actions—is also a manifestation of the "life-giving" virtue. Unrighteous actions harm life (both physical life and spiritual life), contradicting the "life-giving" virtue, thus the heart naturally rejects them.

The heart of yielding and deferring—humility and respect—is an extension of the "life-giving" virtue, ensuring harmonious coexistence between people, which facilitates the collective development of life, whereas contention and mutual destruction harm life.

The heart of discerning right and wrong—the ability to judge good and evil—is the highest manifestation of the "life-giving" virtue. With this heart, man can consciously choose good and reject evil, thus actively participating in the Dao’s enterprise of "life-giving."

In the "Wood of Ox Mountain" chapter, the "life-giving" virtue is embodied in the "sprouting of new shoots" (meng ye zhi sheng). The continuous sprouting of new shoots is the concrete expression of the Heavenly Way’s "life-giving" virtue in the mountain wood—even when cut and grazed upon, the life force constantly attempts to recover. This parallels the human sprout of goodness—even when eroded by material desire, the conscience is constantly attempting to sprout. This unyielding vitality is the most precious gift bestowed upon all living things by the Heavenly Way’s "life-giving" virtue.

Section 14.3 The Philosophy of "Life": From the Book of Documents to Mencius

The concept of "Life" (Sheng) has a deep line of development in pre-Qin literature.

The Book of Documents (Pan Geng) states:

"O you multitude of people! You do not cherish life (bu sheng sheng). If you and I, the solitary ruler, share one mind, then calamity will not descend upon you."

"Bu sheng sheng" means "not taking life as life"—not cherishing life. Here, "sheng" is used as both a verb and a noun, expressing the meaning of "taking life as life"—cherishing and protecting life.

The Book of Documents (Taishi):

"Heaven blesses the common people, and establishes rulers and teachers for them, so that they may assist the Supreme Emperor and graciously protect the Four Quarters."

Heaven blesses the people and establishes rulers and teachers to nurture them—this is the manifestation of the Heavenly Way's "life-giving virtue" (sheng de) in the political realm. Heaven does not directly govern the people but nurtures them through rulers and teachers—just as Heaven does not directly cause mountain wood to grow but nurtures it through the dew and rain and the rhythm of day and night.

The Book of Songs (Daya, Zheng Min):

"Heaven gives birth to the common people; there are objects and there are standards. What the people possess in their constant nature (bing yi) is a liking for beautiful virtue (yi yi de)."

This passage is extremely important. "Heaven gives birth to the common people; there are objects and there are standards" (Tian sheng zheng min, you wu you ze)—Heaven gives birth to the masses, bestowing various things upon them, and also bestowing standards upon them. "What the people possess in their constant nature is a liking for beautiful virtue" (Min zhi bing yi ye, hao shi yi de)—the constant nature (yi) that the people possess is the liking for beautiful virtue. This is the most powerful evidence for the doctrine of inherent goodness.

Mencius records Confucius’s high praise for this poem:

Mencius said: "Confucius said: 'The author of this poem knew the Way! Therefore, whatever exists must have its standard; what people possess in their constant nature is a liking for beautiful virtue.'"

Confucius praises the author of this poem for "knowing the Way"—deeply understanding the Heavenly Way. Heaven creates all things, each with its own standard; Heaven creates the people, and their inherent nature is to like beautiful virtue—this is perfectly consistent with Mencius’s proposition that "What Heaven imparts is called Nature."

The Mencius further records Mencius’s elaboration on this poem:

Mencius said: "...Therefore it is said: The mouth has a common preference for flavors; the ear has a common hearing for sounds; the eye has a common appreciation for colors. Shall the heart alone have nothing in common$10 What the heart has in common is principle (li) and righteousness (yi). The sage was merely the first to attain what my heart has in common. Therefore, the delight of principle and righteousness in my heart is like the delight of choice meats in my mouth."

The mouth has a common preference for flavors, the ear for sounds, the eye for colors—shall the heart alone have no common preference$11 The heart’s common preference is "principle" (li) and "righteousness" (yi). Principle and righteousness delight the heart, just as fine food delights the mouth. This line of argument is ingenious: Since human senses have common natural inclinations (liking flavor, sound, color), the human heart should also have a common natural inclination (liking principle and righteousness). This natural inclination is the specific manifestation of "inherent goodness."

The Book of Songs' claim that "What the people possess in their constant nature is a liking for beautiful virtue" is the most powerful evidence for this—the "constant nature" (bing yi) is the innate disposition, and the "liking for beautiful virtue" (hao shi yi de) is the content of this disposition—is this not inherent goodness$12

Chapter 15: Recovering the Heart and Seeking the Heart — Doctrine of Cultivation

Section 15.1 Why the Conscience is "Abandoned" — A Deeper Analysis of the Causes of Loss

Since the conscience is innate and original, why is it "abandoned" (fang shi)$13 This is the greatest theoretical challenge to the doctrine of inherent goodness.

This question can be phrased more precisely: If goodness is innate to human nature, where does evil come from$14

Section 15.2 "Seeking the Lost Heart" — The Core of Cultivation Practice

Mencius’s method of cultivation can be summarized in one phrase: "Seeking to recover that lost heart" (qiu qi fang xin)—finding back that lost conscience.

What are the specific methods for "seeking the lost heart"$15 Synthesizing Mencius’s entire work and related pre-Qin texts, we can summarize them as follows:

(A) Reducing Desires (Gua Yu)

Mencius (Jinxin II): "Cultivating the heart/mind is best achieved by reducing desires."

Reducing desires is the best way to nurture the heart/mind (nurture the conscience). Desires are the "axes and adzes." The fewer the desires, the less the conscience is cut, and the easier it is for the conscience to recover and be maintained.

However, "reducing desires" is not "eliminating desires." Mencius does not demand that people completely eradicate desire (that would be the path of Laozi or Yang Zhu), but demands the reduction of unnecessary desires and the control of excessive desires. This is like managing a forest—not forbidding all felling (which is unrealistic), but limiting the amount of cutting so that it does not exceed the natural recovery capacity of the wood.

(B) Reflecting Upon Oneself (Fan Qiu Yu Ji)

Mencius (Gongsun Chou I): "Benevolence is like archery. The archer rectifies himself before he shoots; if he misses the target, he does not blame those who surpassed him, but reflects on himself."

Mencius (Li Lou I): "If one loves others but they do not respond with affection, reflect on one's own benevolence. If one governs others but they are not governed, reflect on one's own wisdom. If one shows propriety to others but receives no reciprocal courtesy, reflect on one's own reverence. Whatever action fails to yield the desired result, reflect upon oneself. If one’s person is upright, the world will turn to him."

"Reflecting upon oneself" (Fan qiu yu ji)—When encountering problems, instead of blaming others, one should examine oneself. This is the concrete practice of "Cao" (holding the heart)—by reflecting, one directs attention back to the inner self, inspecting whether one's conscience is still present.

(C) Accumulating Righteousness (Ji Yi)

Mencius (Gongsun Chou I): "This Vast, Flowing Qi is born from the accumulation of Righteousness, not seized by a sudden act of righteousness."

"Ji Yi"—Accumulating righteous deeds. The haoran zhi qi is "born from the accumulation of Righteousness"—accumulating moral strength through continuous righteous action. This is like continuously planting and nurturing a forest, rather than planting a forest all at once, so that the forest gradually recovers.

(D) Preserving the Heart and Nurturing Nature (Cun Xin Yang Xing)

Mencius (Jinxin I): "To exhaust one's heart is to know one's nature. To know one's nature is to know Heaven. To preserve one's heart and nurture one's nature is how one serves Heaven."

"Cun xin yang xing" is the general outline of cultivation. "Jin xin"—to fully exert the heart’s function (thinking, reflecting, discerning good and evil). "Zhi xing"—to know one’s nature (goodness) through exhausting the heart. "Zhi Tian"—to know Heaven through knowing nature (because nature comes from Heaven’s decree). "Cun xin"—to preserve the conscience from being lost. "Yang xing"—to nurture one’s nature so it continues to grow. "Shi Tian"—to serve Heaven through preserving the heart and nurturing nature.

This sequence reveals the complete system of Mencius’s cultivation theory: starting with "exhausting the heart" (fully utilizing the heart’s function), leading to "knowing nature," then "knowing Heaven," and finally "preserving the heart" and "nurturing nature" to "serve Heaven." The starting point is "exhausting the heart" (the concrete activity), and the endpoint is "serving Heaven" (unification with the Heavenly Dao).

(E) Cautious Solitude (Shen Du)

Zhongyong: "Nothing is more visible than what is hidden, and nothing is more manifest than what is minute. Therefore, the superior man is careful about his solitude."

Daxue: "What is meant by making the will sincere is not to deceive oneself. As if hating a bad smell, as if loving a beautiful sight—this is called self-reverence. Therefore, the superior man must be careful about his solitude."

"Shen Du"—Maintaining moral awareness when alone and unwitnessed. This is closely related to Mencius’s doctrine of "Yeqi": Nighttime is the time of solitude and the time of conscience recovery. If one cannot maintain moral awareness during the night (solitude), but instead indulges desires, then even the "night energy" cannot restore the conscience, and one truly becomes "not far from birds and beasts."

Section 15.3 Historical Cases: Preservation and Loss of the Sprouts of Goodness

There are many historical examples in pre-Qin literature that confirm Mencius’s theories of "seeking the lost heart" and "holding the heart."

(A) King Zhou of Shang — A typical case of complete conscience loss.

The Book of Documents (Taishi Shang) records King Wu’s words:

"Now, Shang Zhou, despises Heaven above and casts down calamity upon the people below. He wallows in drunkenness and lust, daring to practice savage tyranny. He punishes the innocent by clan extermination, and promotes officials by lineage. He uses their palaces, terraces, ponds, and extravagant clothing to ruin your tens of thousands of surnames. He burns and roasts the loyal and good, and cuts open pregnant women."

King Zhou indulged in wine and women, tyrannized the people, burned the loyal and good, and cut open pregnant women—his actions far exceeded the bounds of human relations. Analyzing this through the lens of the "Wood of Ox Mountain" chapter: King Zhou was not inherently a tyrant. He initially possessed sprouts of goodness and a conscience, but under the corrosion of power and indulgence of desire ("cut down with axes and adzes"), his sprouts of goodness were eroded step by step. Every act of atrocity ("daytime actions") further destroyed the remaining sprouts ("restrained and extinguished it"). Day after day ("cut down day after day"), the conscience was eventually lost entirely ("night energy insufficient to be preserved"), leading him to be "not far from birds and beasts."

The Book of Documents (Xibo Kan Li) records Zu Yi warning King Zhou: "Heaven has already ended the fate of our Yin dynasty. We consult the great tortoise, and none dare pronounce it auspicious. It is not that the former kings do not assist my later descendants, but that the King's licentious amusement has cut him off from the mandate. Therefore, Heaven abandons me."

Zu Yi warned King Zhou: Heaven has terminated the destiny of the Shang dynasty. What was the King’s response$16 "'Alas! Is my life not ordained by Heaven$17 What can be done about it$18'" This represents the state after the conscience is completely lost—a person can no longer listen to any admonition, can no longer feel the distinction between good and evil, and is completely numb.

To use the analogy of the "Wood of Ox Mountain": King Zhou’s state at this point is "as barren as that"—not a single tree on the mountain, not even a sprout can grow. Bystanders would indeed "assume there was never any timber"—concluding that King Zhou was always a tyrant and never had a conscience. But Mencius would say: "Is this the true disposition of man$19" (Shi qi ren zhi qing ye zai$20)—No! King Zhou became this way as a result of the "axes and adzes" (lust for power) "cutting down day after day"—it was not his innate nature.

(B) King Xuan of Qi — A typical case where sprouts of goodness exist but are obscured.

Mencius (Liang Hui Wang I) records the famous dialogue between Mencius and King Xuan:

The King said: "I have a sickness; I am fond of pleasure (women)." Mencius replied: "In the past, Your Majesty loved your concubines... If Your Majesty is fond of pleasure, and shares that fondness with the common people, what harm is there to Your Majesty$21" The King said: "I have a sickness; I am fond of wealth." Mencius replied: "In the past, Duke Liu was fond of wealth... If Your Majesty is fond of wealth, and shares that fondness with the common people, what harm is there to Your Majesty$22"

King Xuan admits to being "fond of pleasure" and "fond of wealth"—these are his "axes and adzes," eroding his conscience. But Mencius does not deny these desires; he guides King Xuan to connect his personal desires with the needs of the common people—"share that fondness with the common people." This is one method of "nurturing": not completely eliminating desire, but guiding it toward goodness.

More importantly, Mencius discovered that King Xuan still possessed sprouts of goodness:

The King said: "My strength is enough to lift a hundred jun, but not enough to lift a single feather; my eyesight is clear enough to see the tip of an autumn hair, but not the cartloads of firewood before me." Will the King agree$23 ... He said: "I heard Hu He say: The King was sitting in his hall, and someone was leading an ox past the hall. The King saw him and said: 'Where is this ox going$24' The reply was: 'It is to be used to consecrate a new bell.' The King said: 'Let it go! I cannot bear to see it tremble in fear, as if it is being led to death without any crime.' The reply was: 'Then shall we abandon the consecration of the bell$25' The King said: 'How can we abandon it$26 Exchange it for a sheep!'" ... He said: "This heart is enough to rule the kingdom! The common people will all think Your Majesty is benevolent, and I, your subject, know well that Your Majesty cannot bear it."

When King Xuan saw the ox about to be slaughtered for the ceremony, he could not bear its "trembling in fear" (husu), and ordered it be exchanged for a sheep. This "heart that cannot bear" (bu ren) is precisely the "heart of alarm and compassion" that Mencius speaks of—the sprout of Benevolence. Although King Xuan's conscience had been heavily cut by "axes and adzes," the "sprouts of goodness" still remained. Mencius’s task was to help the King realize this ("This heart is enough to rule the kingdom!") and guide him to expand this sprout to governing the state.

This case perfectly illustrates the core idea of the "Wood of Ox Mountain" chapter: Although the human conscience is eroded, as long as there is a "sprouting of new shoots," there is a possibility of recovery; the key is "obtaining nurture"—finding the right method to nourish and expand the sprouts of goodness.

(C) Shun — A typical case of fully expanded sprouts of goodness.

Mencius (Li Lou II) records:

"Shun was enlightened about the myriad things and perceptive about human relationships; he acted from benevolence and righteousness, rather than acting to practice benevolence and righteousness."

The reason Shun became a Sage was not that his nature was inherently better than others ("the difference between man and beast is slight"—the difference between people is small), but because his sprouts of goodness received full nourishment and expansion.

Mencius (Jinxin II):

"When Shun lived deep in the mountains, dwelling with wood and stone, roaming with deer and swine, the difference between him and the people of the deep mountains was but slight. But when he heard a good word or saw a good deed, his reaction was like the breaking open of a river or a great watercourse—powerful and irresistible."

When Shun lived deep in the mountains, the difference between him and the reclusive people was "slight" (ji xi)—very small. But Shun possessed a key quality: once he heard a good word or saw a good deed, his sprouts of goodness surged forth like a broken dam, irresistible. This is the best example of "If they obtain nurture, nothing will fail to grow"—once the sprout of goodness is triggered and nurtured, its power to grow is limitless.

To use the "Wood of Ox Mountain" analogy: Shun was like a mountain with excellent soil—once seeds appeared ("hearing a good word or seeing a good deed"), a dense forest immediately grew. Those who lost their conscience were like Ox Mountain—though the soil was also good ("not without the sprouting of new shoots"), because they were "cut down day after day" and "grazed upon," nothing could grow.

Chapter 16: Night Energy and Clear Dawn Energy — The Context of Pre-Qin Qi Theory

Section 16.1 The Status of "Qi" in Pre-Qin Philosophy

"Qi" (vital energy, breath) is one of the most central concepts in pre-Qin philosophy, related to everything from the movement of Heaven and Earth down to the life and death of the human body.

The Laozi, Chapter 42, states:

"The Dao begets One; One begets Two; Two begets Three; Three begets the myriad things. The myriad things bear Yin and embrace Yang; the mingling of qi makes them harmonious."

The myriad things arise from the "mingling of qi" (the confluence of Yin and Yang qi). "Qi" is the fundamental element constituting all things.

The Zuo Zhuan (1st year of Duke Zhao) records the physician He’s words:

"Heaven has the Six Qi, which descend to generate the Five Flavors, manifest as the Five Colors, produce the Five Tones, and cause the Six Illnesses when excessive. The Six Qi are Yin, Yang, Wind, Rain, Obscurity, and Brightness. They divide into the Four Seasons, order themselves into the Five Periods, and become calamities when they exceed their bounds."

Heaven possesses the Six Qi, and when they are balanced, creation proceeds normally; when they are excessive, they become disaster. This shows that the balance of "Qi" is crucial for the healthy functioning of all things under Heaven.

The Guanzi (Neiye chapter) states:

"The heart's position in the body is that of a ruler. The nine orifices have their respective offices, like officials. When the heart resides in its Way, the nine orifices follow the principles. If lust and desire are fully indulged, the eye cannot see colors, and the ear cannot hear sounds. Therefore, it is said: if the ruler strays from the Way, the subordinates lose their functions. If one can remove worry, joy, sorrow, and anger, and the desire for profit, the heart will restore its balance."

This passage reveals the close relationship between qi and the heart: Essence (jing) is the purest form of qi. When qi flows, life arises; when life arises, thought arises; when thought arises, knowing arises—qi is the basis of life and thought. The heart "loses" (loses its original state) because of interference from emotions like worry, joy, sorrow, and anger, and desires for profit. By removing these interferences, the heart can "restore its balance."

This thought aligns highly with Mencius’s discourse on "Yeqi" and "Pingdan zhi qi": At night, by distancing oneself from the interference of worry, joy, sorrow, and desire, the qi is allowed to settle and clarify, restoring its pristine state. The clarity of the "Pingdan zhi qi" is precisely because the night’s rest allows the qi to be freed from the interference of desires and emotions.

Section 16.2 The Meaning of "Night Energy" (Yeqi)

The term "Yeqi" is original to Mencius; it is not found in earlier texts. However, its content can be fully understood within the context of pre-Qin qi theory.

"Yeqi" has several layers of meaning:

First, The Qi of the Night — contrasting with the Qi of the Day. Night belongs to Yin, associated with stillness, contraction, and storage. The qi of the night is quiet, internal, and stored—precisely the condition required to nourish the sprouts of goodness. Day belongs to Yang, associated with motion, emission, and diffusion. The qi of the day is active, outwardly directed, and diffused—prone to consuming the sprouts of goodness.

Second, Clear Qi — contrasting with Turbid and Chaotic Qi. During the day, people interact with external things, influenced by various emotions (worry, joy, sorrow, anger) and desires (profit, sound, sight). This makes the qi turbid and chaotic. At night, being away from external things, the qi settles and clarifies, restoring itself to a clear state. This clear qi is the "Yeqi."

Third, The Qi of Goodness — contrasting with the Qi of Desire. "Yeqi" is not merely a physiological qi, but a spiritual energy related to inherent goodness. When one is free from the interference of material desires, the sprouts of goodness naturally emerge, manifesting as a clear, gentle, pure "qi."

Section 16.3 "The Energy of the Clear Dawn" and the Cultivation Effort

The "Energy of the Clear Dawn" (Pingdan zhi qi) is the result of the nurturing provided by the "Night Energy" (Yeqi)—after a night of rest, the qi is clearest at dawn.

Why emphasize "Clear Dawn"$27 In the daily life of the pre-Qin period, "clear dawn" was the quietest time of the day. The city had not yet become noisy, people had just woken from sleep, their minds were clear, and their hearts calm. At this time, it was easiest to perceive the faint sprouts of goodness deep within—the state where their "likes and dislikes are close to those of other people."

Pre-Qin cultivation practices also emphasized the morning effort. The Analects (Xue Er), recording Zengzi's "I examine myself daily on three points"—the start of this "daily examination" was likely in the early morning. Examining the state of the heart at the beginning of the day, checking whether the conscience is present, is the concrete practice of "holding it, it exists."

The Book of Rites (Neize) states:

"The etiquette for a son: in winter, keep parents warm; in summer, keep them cool. In the evening, settle down; in the morning, examine."

"Chen sheng"—In the morning, examine (asking about the parents' well-being). Although this "shen" refers to inquiring about parents rather than self-reflection, the emphasis on the "morning" as the most crucial time of the day indicates the pre-Qin people valued the early hours. From the perspective of the "Wood of Ox Mountain" chapter, this time is the critical juncture when the heart transitions from nighttime recovery to the trial of the daytime—it is the decisive moment for whether the sprouts of goodness can be preserved.

The Book of Songs (Qi Feng, Ji Ming):

"The cock has already crowed, the morning is already full. It is not the cock that crows, but the sound of the flies. The East is already bright, the morning is already flourishing. It is not the East that is bright, but the light of the rising moon."

This poem describes the wife urging her husband to rise and attend court—the "cock crow" (pingdan) marks the beginning of the day's activities. From the perspective of the "Wood of Ox Mountain" chapter, this moment is also the critical transition point where the heart moves from nighttime recovery to the trial of the day—the decisive moment for whether the sprouts of goodness can be preserved.

Chapter 17: The Relationship Between the Doctrine of Inherent Goodness and Political Theory — From the Ox Mountain Analogy to the Rule of Kings

Section 17.1 Political Implications of Inherent Goodness

Mencius’s doctrine of inherent goodness is not merely a proposition of moral philosophy; it has profound political implications.

If human nature is inherently good, the fundamental task of politics is not to "make people good" (as Xunzi argued for "transforming nature through artificiality"), but to "prevent people from losing their inherent goodness"—or, to create a social environment conducive to the preservation and development of goodness.

To use the analogy of the "Wood of Ox Mountain": Good governance is not forcibly planting trees on a barren mountain (using external laws and punishments to compel people to be good), but rather stopping the felling and removing the cattle and sheep (eliminating the external factors that cause people to lose their conscience), allowing the mountain wood to recover naturally.

This is the core idea of Mencius’s "Benevolent Governance" (Renzheng): Good governance is a mode of administration that is restrained, compliant with the seasons, and nurturing of life.

Note the appearance of "axes and adzes enter the mountains and forests according to the season" (fu jin yi shi ru shan lin) in Mencius (Liang Hui Wang I)—this contrasts sharply with "cut down with axes and adzes" (fu jin fa zhi) in the "Wood of Ox Mountain" chapter. Unrestrained felling leads to the depletion of timber; felling according to the season ensures that timber can be used inexhaustibly. The difference lies in "according to the season" (yi shi)—using natural resources with restraint and timing.

This contains a profound political philosophy: the tragedy of "Ox Mountain Wood" stems from unrestrained felling and grazing—the failure of political administration stems from excessive exploitation of the people and destruction of the moral environment. The Rule of Kings, conversely, is a method of governance that restrains, follows the ways of Heaven, and nurtures life.

Section 17.2 Benevolent Governance and Nurturing the People

The core of Mencius's "Benevolent Governance" is "nurturing the people" (yang min)—nurturing both their material life and their spiritual life.

Mencius (Liang Hui Wang I) records:

"If you plant mulberry trees around their five-acre dwellings, by the time they are fifty, they can wear silk. If the raising of chickens, pigs, dogs, and swine is not neglected in its proper season, by the time they are seventy, they can eat meat. If their hundred acres of fields are not taken from them at the right time, a family of five mouths will not go hungry. If you diligently attend to the education in the schools and constantly instruct them in the meaning of filial piety and brotherly respect, then those with white hair will not be seen carrying burdens on the roads. When those seventy years old eat silk and meat, and the common people are neither hungry nor cold, and yet some rulers do not attain the throne, this has never happened."

This passage describes the concrete content of "Benevolent Governance":

1. Material level: Securing the people's food, clothing, shelter, and travel (five-acre dwellings, hundred-acre fields, raising of fowl and swine). This is to eliminate the "axes and adzes"—if people are free from material scarcity, they will not be forced by want to lose their conscience.
2. Spiritual level: Providing education and moral guidance (attending to schools, instructing in filial piety and brotherly respect) to "nurture the sprouts"—cultivating and expanding the people's sprouts of goodness.

Using the "Wood of Ox Mountain" analogy:

• "Planting mulberry trees around their five-acre dwellings" is like planting trees on the mountain, actively increasing vegetation.
• "Not taking their fields at the right time" is like not cutting timber during the wrong season, protecting the natural growth of vegetation.
• "Attending to the education in the schools" is like assigning forest rangers to prevent cattle and sheep from eating the new shoots.

This is the implementation of "If they obtain nurture, nothing will fail to grow" at the political level—creating an environment where the sprouts of goodness can naturally flourish.

Section 17.3 Tyranny and Harming the People — Political Metaphors of "Cutting with Axes and Adzes"

Conversely, tyranny is the political realization of "cutting with axes and adzes."

Mencius (Liang Hui Wang I) records:

"If your dogs and swine eat the food of men and you do not stop them, and there are dead bodies in the ditches and roads and you do not issue orders to distribute the grain—this is to incite men to kill you. When men die, you say, 'It is not I, it is the year's harvest.' What is the difference between this and stabbing a man to death and saying, 'It is not I, it is the weapon'$28 If Your Majesty does not blame the harvest, then the people of the world will come to you."

Under tyranny, the rulers’ dogs and swine eat human food, yet there are starving bodies in the ditches. The rulers do not reflect on their governance but blame "the year's harvest"—this is like saying, "The mountain is barren not because of cutting, but because the mountain never grew trees."

Mencius sharply points out: The reason the common people starve and degenerate is not that their nature is inherently bad, but the result of tyrannical governance. Tyranny is that "axe and adze," cutting away the people's sprouts of goodness day after day.

Mencius (Li Lou I):

"The loss of the world by Jie and Zhou was the loss of their people; the loss of their people was the loss of their hearts. The Way to gain the world is to gain the people; the Way to gain the people is to gain their hearts; the Way to gain their hearts is to give them what they desire and withhold what they detest—that is all."

"To gain their hearts" (De qi xin)—to win the hearts of the people. The way to win their hearts is "to give them what they desire and withhold what they detest" (Suo yu yu zhi ju zhi, suo wu wu shi, er ye). This is the political application of "nurture"—nurturing the people's conscience.

Jie and Zhou lost the world precisely because they "lost their hearts"—not only did they fail to nurture the people’s conscience, but they harmed it with tyrannical rule. This is analogous to cutting Ox Mountain wood day after day with "axes and adzes," eventually leading to the complete depletion of the wood (the complete loss of the human heart, resulting in chaos throughout the world).

Section 17.4 "Nurturing the People" vs. "Harming the People" in Pre-Qin Political History

(A) The Rule of Yao and Shun — Models of Nurturing the People

The Book of Documents (Yao Dian) records:

"Let us examine the antiquity of the Emperor Yao: He was illustrious, accomplished, and receptive, truly modest and yielding, his radiance covering the Four Quarters, reaching to Heaven above and the Earth below. He was capable of clearly recognizing superior virtue, thereby making his nine family branches intimate. When the nine branches were harmonious, he rectified the affairs of the hundred clans. When the hundred clans were enlightened, he harmonized the myriad states."

Emperor Yao "was capable of clearly recognizing superior virtue, thereby making his nine family branches intimate" (Ke ming jun de, yi qin jiu zu)—first cultivating his own virtue, then extending it to his nine family branches, then rectifying the affairs of the hundred officials, and finally harmonizing the myriad states.

This is the process of "nurturing" from the inside out, from near to far. Yao first nurtured his own virtue ("If held, it exists"), then nurtured the virtue of his family, then the virtue of his officials, and finally the virtue of the myriad states—like planting trees starting from the base of a mountain, gradually spreading to the slopes and the summit, until the entire mountain is lush and green.

(B) The Rule of King Wen of Zhou — A Model of Nurturing the People

The Book of Songs, Major Odes (Daya, Ling Tai), states:

"We marked out the Spirit Terrace, we marked it and erected it. The common people attacked it, and in a short time it was finished. Do not hurry the marking out, and the people will come like children. The King is in the spirit park; the does repose securely. The does are plump and glossy, the white birds are fluttering. The King is in the spirit pond, and the fish leap up."

When King Wen marked out the Spirit Terrace, the people willingly came to help, completing it without urgency. In King Wen’s spirit park, deer lie down peacefully, white birds flutter, and fish leap in the pond—a scene teeming with vitality.

This is the political realization of "If they obtain nurture, nothing will fail to grow"—King Wen’s benevolent governance created an environment of vitality, and in this environment, not only did the animals thrive, but the people willingly served—this is the natural result when the sprouts of goodness are nurtured.

Note that this poem uses the word "zhuozhuo"—"The does are plump and glossy" (You lu zhuozhuo). However, this "zhuozhuo" describes the plumpness of the deer, contrasting sharply with the "zhuozhuo" (barrenness) in the "Wood of Ox Mountain" chapter. In King Wen’s park, "zhuozhuo" symbolizes the fullness of life; on Ox Mountain, "zhuozhuo" symbolizes the near extinction of life. The completely opposite meanings of the same term in different contexts precisely reveal the vast difference between "obtaining nurture" and "losing nurture."

(C) The Tyranny of Jie and Zhou — A Typical Case of Harming the People

The Book of Documents (Tang Shi) records:

"The King of Xia restrained the strength of the masses and exploited the cities of Xia. The masses became weary and uncooperative, saying: 'When will this sun perish$29 I am willing to perish with you!' The virtue of Xia was like this; now I must go to destroy it."

King Jie restrained the people's labor and exploited their wealth. The people became weary and uncooperative, even saying: "When will this sun die$30 I am willing to die with you!" The people compared King Jie to the sun, preferring mutual destruction—this is the state where the heart of the people is completely lost.

Analyzing this through the "Wood of Ox Mountain" chapter: King Jie’s tyranny was like ceaseless "cutting with axes and adzes," exhausting the people's sprouts of goodness, trust, and loyalty. The people's conscience was no longer attached to King Jie—"If the night energy is insufficient to be preserved, then one will not be far from birds and beasts." Of course, the "beasts" here do not mean the people became beasts, but that the relationship between King Jie and the people degraded to that of "hunter and prey"—the people no longer saw King Jie as a father-king, but as an enemy.

Chapter 18: The Cultivation of "Holding, It Exists" — Pre-Qin Cultivation Practice

Section 18.1 The Multi-layered Cultivation of "Holding" (Cao)

"If held, it exists" (Cao ze cun)—Grasp the heart (conscience), and it exists. This word "Cao" encompasses rich layers of cultivation effort.

(A) The Bodily Aspect of "Holding" — Rectifying the Appearance (Zheng Rong Ti)

Cultivation begins with the body. A proper bodily demeanor aids in the rectification of the heart.

The Analects (Xiang Dang) details Confucius's deportment in various situations:

"When entering the palace gate, he bowed deeply, as if he could not enter. He did not stand in the middle of the gate; when walking, he did not tread on the threshold. When passing by a seat of honor, his expression was stern, his steps hesitant, and his speech as if too weak to speak. When ascending the steps to the hall, he bowed deeply, as if he could not breathe. When going out, he descended one step, his expression brightened, and he appeared pleased. When moving down the steps, he advanced quickly, as if with wings. When returning to his place, he stood with caution."

Confucius entered the palace gate with deep reverence and caution; when passing a seat of honor, his expression was solemn and his steps hesitant; when ascending the hall, he bowed deeply and held his breath—all these actions use the rectification of the body to maintain the heart's reverence. This is the bodily aspect of "Cao"—preserving the inner conscience by regulating external demeanor.

(B) The Emotional Aspect of "Holding" — Rectifying Feelings and Dispositions (Zheng Qing Zhi)

The Book of Rites (Yue Ji) states:

"Man is naturally quiet; this is Heaven’s nature. Stimulated by things, desire arises from nature. When things are known, likes and dislikes become manifest. If likes and dislikes are unrestrained internally, and knowledge is seduced by externals, and one cannot reflect upon oneself, the Heavenly Principle (Tian Li) is extinguished. When the stimuli of things are endless, and man’s likes and dislikes are unrestrained, then man is transformed by things. That which transforms man extinguishes the Heavenly Principle and exhausts human desires."

"Man is naturally quiet; this is Heaven’s nature" (Ren sheng er jing, tian zhi xing ye)—Man’s innate state is quiet and pure; this is the endowed nature. "Stimulated by things, desire arises from nature" (Gan yu wu er dong, xing zhi yu ye)—Upon contact with external things, desires arise, which is the dynamic expression of nature. "If likes and dislikes are unrestrained internally, and knowledge is seduced by externals, and one cannot reflect upon oneself, the Heavenly Principle is extinguished" (Hao wu wu jie yu nei, zhi you yu wai, bu neng fan gong, tian li mie yi)—If emotions of like and dislike are unrestrained, and cognition is lured by the outside, and one fails to reflect internally, the Heavenly Principle (good nature) is extinguished.

This passage’s logic aligns perfectly with the "Wood of Ox Mountain" chapter: "Stimulated by things" is like "cutting with axes and adzes"—external temptations erode the nature of goodness. "Unrestrained likes and dislikes" is like "cutting day after day"—unrestrained desires consume the sprouts of goodness daily. "Heavenly Principle is extinguished" is like "night energy insufficient to be preserved"—good nature is ultimately destroyed.

Therefore, the emotional aspect of "Cao" is "restraining feelings" (Jie Qing)—regulating the emotions of likes, dislikes, joy, and anger so they do not erupt without limit.

(C) The Cognitive Aspect of "Holding" — Rectifying Deliberation (Zheng Si Lü)

Mencius (Gaozi II): "The function of the heart is to think (si); when thinking, one obtains; when not thinking, one does not obtain."

In terms of cognition, "Cao" the heart means maintaining correct thought—thinking about benevolence, righteousness, good and evil, right and wrong, rather than thinking about profit, sound, or sight.

The Analects (Book 2, 15th chapter) states:

The Master said: "Learning without thought is labor lost; thought without learning is perilous."

"Learning without thought leads to confusion" (Xue er bu si ze wang); "Thought without learning leads to peril" (Si er bu xue ze dai). Learning and thinking must be combined. In the context of moral cultivation, this "thinking" (si) is the self-reflection and awareness of one's own conscience.

Section 18.2 The Danger of "Releasing" — The Consequences of Not Cultivating

"If released, it perishes" (She ze wang)—Abandoning the grasp of conscience causes it to vanish.

There are many ways to "release" (She):

(A) Active Abandonment — Pursuing Profit and Desire

The most direct form of "release" is the active pursuit of material gain, abandoning moral integrity.

Mencius (Gaozi II) records:

"Fish are what I desire; bear's paws are also what I desire. If I cannot have both, I will give up the fish and take the bear’s paw. Life is what I desire; Righteousness (yi) is also what I desire. If I cannot have both, I will give up life and take Righteousness. I desire life, but I desire something more than life, so I will not grasp at things for the sake of living. I detest death, but there is something I detest more than death, so I will not avoid what I detest."

Mencius discusses "giving up life to take righteousness" (She sheng qu yi)—when life and righteousness cannot be had together, one should forsake life for the sake of the Dao. This "She" is an active, conscious choice. However, most people, when faced with a conflict between profit and righteousness, choose "abandoning righteousness for profit"—actively giving up moral integrity to pursue gain. This is the most typical manifestation of "if released, it perishes."

(B) Passive Abandonment — Following the Crowd

A more common form of "release" is passive—not actively pursuing profit, but unconsciously abandoning the adherence to conscience due to environmental influence.

The Analects (Book 4, 3rd chapter) records:

The Master said: "To live in a benevolent neighborhood is praiseworthy. If one chooses not to dwell where benevolence is, how can one be considered wise$31"

This implies that the environment has a huge influence on a person. Even if a person is inherently good, if they remain in an unrighteous environment for a long time, they will unknowingly conform.

This is analogous to the Ox Mountain wood—the mountain’s nature is "once luxuriant," but because it is "near the suburb of a great capital" (in an unfavorable environment), it is cut down daily and grazed upon, eventually becoming "barren."

(C) Intermittent Release — Sunning for a Day, Chilling for Ten

Mencius (Gaozi II): "Even the things in the world that grow most easily, if exposed to the sun for one day and chilled for ten, none will survive."

"Sunning for a day, chilling for ten" (Yi pu shi han)—Cultivating occasionally, then relaxing for a long period. This intermittent cultivation is equivalent to no cultivation—the sprouts of goodness have a brief moment of recovery during the occasional cultivation, but they are annihilated during the long period of relaxation.

Chapter 19: The Overall Picture of Pre-Qin Heart/Nature Philosophy

Section 19.1 From Confucius to Mencius — The Development of Heart/Nature Philosophy

Confucius initiated a moral philosophy centered on "Benevolence" (Ren), but Confucius himself rarely discussed "Nature" (Xing) directly. The Analects (Book 9, 23rd chapter) records:

Zigong said: "The Master’s writings and compositions can be heard, but the Master’s words on Nature (xing) and the Heavenly Way (tian dao) cannot be heard."

Zigong said: The Master's writings (visible learning) can be heard, but the Master’s words on nature and the Heavenly Way are not often heard. This indicates that while Confucius had thoughts on nature and the Heavenly Way, he rarely spoke of them publicly—perhaps because they were too profound to be taught openly to all disciples.

Mencius inherited Confucius’s thought and greatly developed and clarified the portions concerning "Xing" (Nature) and "Xin" (Heart/Mind). Confucius said, "By nature, men are nearly alike; by practice, they get to be wide apart." Mencius further clarified, "Nature is good." Confucius said, "Is Benevolence far away$32 If I wish for Benevolence, it arrives immediately." Mencius further explained that "Benevolence and Righteousness are rooted in the heart." Confucius said, "If held, it exists; if released, it perishes." Mencius expanded this into the complete exposition of the "Wood of Ox Mountain."

From Confucius to Mencius, the philosophy of heart/nature developed from the "hidden" to the "manifest." Confucius sowed the seeds; Mencius made them bloom and bear fruit.

Section 19.2 The Relationship Between "Heart" (Xin) and "Nature" (Xing)

In Mencius’s system, "Xin" and "Xing" are closely related yet distinct concepts.

"Xing" is the innate nature of man—the root of goodness. "Xing" is metaphysical, static, and unchanging. The nature of every person is good; this is a fixed conclusion, unaffected by the degree of one's personal cultivation.

"Xin" is the subject of human psychological activity—the location of the conscience. "Xin" is dynamic, active, and mutable. The heart can be "held" and "exist," or "released" and "perish." The heart is the concrete manifestation and expression of Nature in the reality of life.

To use an analogy: If "Xing" is the inherent condition of the mountain (fertile soil suitable for growing trees), then "Xin" is the trees on the mountain (the concrete manifestation of Nature). The soil is always fertile (Nature is unchanging), but the trees may be luxuriant or may be cut down (the Heart can exist or perish).

Mencius (Jinxin I) states: "To exhaust one's heart is to know one's nature. To know one's nature is to know Heaven. To preserve one's heart and nurture one's nature is how one serves Heaven."

"Exhausting the heart" (Jin xin) → "Knowing nature" (Zhi xing) → "Knowing Heaven" (Zhi Tian)—This is a process of cognition from the concrete to the abstract, from phenomenon to essence. By fully exercising the heart’s function (exhausting the heart), one can recognize the nature manifested by the heart (knowing nature); by knowing nature, one can recognize the Heavenly Dao that bestowed nature upon it (knowing Heaven). This is analogous to recognizing the soil from the trees, and recognizing the creation of Heaven and Earth from the soil—from the surface inward, from the near to the distant.

Section 19.3 The Multifaceted Aspects of Pre-Qin Heart/Nature Philosophy

Pre-Qin philosophy of heart/nature was not monolithic but multifaceted. Besides Mencius’s doctrine of inherent goodness, there was Gaozi’s doctrine of neutral nature, Xunzi’s doctrine of innate evil, and Laozi and Zhuangzi’s doctrine of natural nature. These different views constitute a rich spectrum of thought.

If we place these views within the framework of the "Wood of Ox Mountain" chapter:

• Mencius: The mountain’s true nature is beautiful (xing shan). Barrenness is the result of external harm (xing shan leading to acquired un-goodness). The Way of cultivation is to restore the mountain’s original beauty (seeking the lost heart, obtaining nurture).
• Gaozi: The mountain’s nature is neither beautiful nor not beautiful; it can grow trees or not, depending entirely on external conditions (xing wu shan wu bu shan). The way of teaching is to provide suitable external conditions.
• Xunzi: The mountain’s true nature is not beautiful—if left without artificial intervention, only weeds and thorns will grow (xing e). The Way of teaching is to use artificial means (rites, righteousness, laws) to transform the mountain’s appearance (hua xing qi wei).
• Laozi and Zhuangzi: The mountain’s original state is the best state—whether it grows trees or not is natural (xing chao shan e). All artificial intervention (whether cutting or planting) is a harm to nature. The Way of cultivation is to return to nature (governance by non-action).

These different views have their own theoretical foundations and practical values, but from the perspective of pre-Qin Confucianism, Mencius’s doctrine of inherent goodness is the most profound and complete—because it affirms the innate quality of the good nature ("was once luxuriant"), recognizes the reality of its erosion ("as barren as that"), and proposes concrete methods for its restoration ("holding it exists," "obtaining nurture").

Part II: Thematic Inquiries into Core Ideas

Chapter 20: The Fundamental Difficulty of the Doctrine of Inherent Goodness and Mencius’s Response

Section 20.1 The Most Fundamental Question: If Nature is Good, Where Does Evil Come From$1

The greatest theoretical challenge facing the doctrine of inherent goodness is: "If human nature is inherently good, why is there so much evil in the world$2"

This question can be more precisely stated: If goodness is the original nature of man, then evil is a non-original, external phenomenon. But where does the "external" come from$3 If the external environment (society, material desire) is the source of evil, where does the evil in that external environment come from—is it not also created by man$4 If the men who create the evil environment are also inherently good, why do they create an evil environment$5

This is the circular dilemma of the "Origin of Evil": Good Nature → Man ought to do good → But man actually creates an evil environment → The evil environment causes man to lose his goodness → Man becomes ungood → The ungood man creates an even more evil environment... In this cycle, where did the initial "evil" begin$6

Section 20.2 Mencius’s Response: "Slightness" (Ji Xi) and the "Organs of Sight and Hearing"

Mencius does not directly answer the question of the "Origin of Evil" (which may be a limitation of pre-Qin thought), but his ideas contain an implicit response.

First, "The difference between man and beast is slight" (Ren zhi suo yi yi yu qin shou zhe ji xi)—The difference between man and beast is originally small. This "slightness" implies: although man has an innate nature of goodness, this goodness constitutes only a small proportion of man's total endowment. The majority of human endowments—appetites for food, sexual desire, instincts for self-preservation—are shared with beasts. Although these shared endowments are not "evil," if unchecked, they will erode that "slight" spark of goodness.

In other words, the origin of evil is not that human nature contains an element of "evil," but that the element of "good" within human nature is too weak—the sprouts of goodness are like newly sprouted shoots, while desires are like fully grown cattle and sheep. New shoots naturally cannot withstand the grazing of cattle and sheep.

Second, "The organs of sight and hearing do not think, but are obscured by things" (Er mu zhi guan bu si, er bi yu wu). The sense organs are passive—when external things arrive, the senses are attracted. This passivity causes people to pursue external things without consciously directing their inner conscience. Evil does not "arise" from some source of evil; rather, it is "formed" in the process of goodness being obscured—analogous to darkness not being a substance, but the state resulting from the obscuring of light.

Third, the chapter itself is a response—evil is the product of a "process," not "original nature." The barrenness of the mountain is not because the mountain’s nature is ugly, but because it was cut down and grazed. Likewise, human un-goodness is not because nature is ungood, but because of the process of erosion by material desires. Evil does not require a metaphysical origin (like an "evil nature"); it only requires an experiential process (external temptation → sensory pursuit → obscuring of conscience → arising of unrighteous action).

Section 20.3 Responses from Other Pre-Qin Thinkers to the "Origin of Evil"

(A) Xunzi’s Response

Xunzi (Xing E): "Now, human nature, being born, has a propensity for seeking gain; if one follows this, contention and usurpation arise, and yielding and propriety vanish."

Xunzi’s response is direct: Evil comes from natural human desires (fondness for gain, malice, lust). If one follows these natural desires (without the restraint of rites and righteousness), contention and disorder are inevitable.

However, Xunzi's response faces another difficulty: If nature is inherently evil, where does goodness come from$7 Xunzi says, "Its goodness is artificiality" (Qi shan zhe wei ye)—goodness comes from subsequent artificial construction (rites and education). But who created the rites and education$8 Xunzi says the Sages created them. But if the Sages are also inherently evil, how could they create good rites and righteousness$9 Xunzi’s answer is: "The Sages transform nature and establish artificiality; when artificiality is established, rites and righteousness arise." But "transforming nature" itself requires a power that transcends nature—where does this power come from$10 Xunzi failed to fully answer this question.

(B) Laozi’s Response

Laozi, Chapter 18: "When the Great Dao is abandoned, there arise benevolence and righteousness."

Laozi’s response is: Evil arises from the deviation from the Dao. When the world aligns with the Dao, there is no distinction between good and evil; when the world deviates from the Dao, the distinction between good and evil appears. The reason for deviating from the Dao is the growth of human cleverness and desire.

However, if the "Dao" is perfect and self-sufficient, why would it be deviated from$11 If the deviation comes from human cleverness and desire, where do cleverness and desire come from—are they not also products of the Dao$12 Laozi also failed to fully answer this question.

(C) Comparative Analysis

These three responses have their strengths and weaknesses:

Mencius’s response (Evil is the processual product of goodness being obscured) best preserves the primordial status of goodness but cannot fully explain how the "process of obscuring" initially began.

Xunzi’s response (Evil comes from natural desire) best conforms to common sense experience, but he cannot explain the ultimate source of "Goodness" (rites and righteousness).

Laozi’s response (Evil comes from the deviation of the Dao) possesses the deepest metaphysical insight, but he fails to explain why deviation occurs.

From the perspective of the "Wood of Ox Mountain" chapter, Mencius’s response, though imperfect, has the most practical guidance: Regardless of how evil originated, the key is how to "obtain nurture"—to restore the nature of goodness and nurture the conscience. Just as a doctor does not need to know how disease originated in human history, they only need to know how to treat the patient at hand. Mencius's concern is practical, immediate, and focused on the effort of cultivation.

Chapter 21: The Relationship Between Individual Cultivation and Social Environment

Section 21.1 Can Individual Cultivation Transcend Environmental Limitations$13

The "Wood of Ox Mountain" chapter raises a profound question: If a person exists in a harsh social environment ("near the suburb of a great capital"), can they preserve their conscience purely through individual cultivation$14

Mencius’s answer seems to be yes—"If held, it exists," as long as one "holds" the conscience, it remains. However, the entire chapter suggests that in a harsh environment ("cut down day after day," "repeatedly restrained"), "holding" is extremely difficult, perhaps nearly impossible—"night energy is insufficient to be preserved."

How can this contradiction be understood$15

Mencius (Teng Wen Gong II) records:

"To dwell in the greatest dwelling in the world, to stand in the most correct position in the world, and to walk the greatest Dao in the world. If successful, follow it with the people; if unsuccessful, walk the Dao alone. Riches and honor cannot corrupt him; poverty and humility cannot move him; military might cannot bow him. This is what is called the Great Man."

"Riches and honor cannot corrupt him, poverty and humility cannot move him, military might cannot bow him"—this is the "Great Man" who can uphold his conscience in any circumstance. However, very few people can achieve this level. For the majority of "common people," the influence of the environment is decisive—"The common people cast it away, but the superior man preserves it" (the "slight" difference between man and beast is lost by the common people, preserved by the superior man).

Therefore, Mencius’s answer is layered:

For the individual: The effort of cultivation can, in theory, transcend environmental limitations ("If held, it exists"), but it is extremely difficult in practice—requiring immense willpower and wisdom.

For society: Individual cultivation is insufficient; a benevolent social environment is required to nurture the sprouts of goodness in the people. This is why Mencius is not just a moral philosopher but also a political thinker—he knew well that without a social environment of benevolent governance, the sprouts of goodness in most people cannot be nurtured.

Section 21.2 Mencius’s Confrontation with Environmental Determinism

Although Mencius acknowledges the immense influence of the environment, he is by no means an environmental determinist. He insists that man possesses the capacity for active choice—the choice to "hold" or "release" the conscience.

Mencius (Gongsun Chou I) records:

"Is an arrow-maker less benevolent than a sheath-maker$16 The arrow-maker hopes his arrows wound people, while the sheath-maker hopes his sheaths protect people. The same is true for carpenters. Thus, the craft one chooses must be taken seriously. Confucius said: 'To live in a benevolent neighborhood is praiseworthy. If one chooses not to dwell where benevolence is, how can one be considered wise$17'"

This passage discusses how the nature of one's profession influences morality: the arrow-maker hopes his arrows injure people, while the sheath-maker hopes his sheaths protect people—it is not that the arrow-maker is inherently more wicked than the sheath-maker, but the nature of the craft dictates it. Thus, "the craft one chooses must be taken seriously"—one must be cautious in choosing one's profession.

The key word here is "choose" (ze): people can choose to live in a benevolent neighborhood (li ren wei mei) and choose professions that benefit others. This capacity for choice itself demonstrates that man is not completely determined by his environment—man has agency and can, to a certain extent, choose his own environment.

However, the prerequisite for this capacity to choose is that the conscience still exists—if the conscience is completely lost ("night energy insufficient to be preserved"), man loses the ability to make correct choices and truly becomes a slave to his environment. This critical threshold makes "early cultivation" paramount—one must "hold" the conscience while it still exists, and not wait until the "night energy is insufficient to be preserved" to regret it. This parallels the I Ching, Kun Hexagram (Wenyan): "The family that accumulates goodness will surely have overflowing blessings; the family that accumulates non-goodness will surely have overflowing calamities. ... A minister murdering his ruler, or a son murdering his father—this is not the result of a single day or a single night; the origin has been gradual, resulting from not distinguishing it early." If one fails to distinguish and stop it early, by the time evil actions accumulate to the tipping point, it is too late.

Chapter 22: The Cosmological Context of the Ox Mountain Chapter

Section 22.1 The Homomorphism of the Heavenly Way and the Human Heart

The "Wood of Ox Mountain" chapter is not just a treatise on moral philosophy but also contains profound cosmological implications. Mencius uses natural phenomena (the growth and destruction of mountain wood) to analogize the existence and loss of the human conscience. What is the basis for this analogy$18 It is the homomorphism—the shared structure—between the Way of Heaven and the Way of the Human Heart.

The I Ching (Xici Zhuan) states:

"The greatest virtue of Heaven and Earth is Life (sheng)."

The greatest virtue of Heaven and Earth is "Life"—the creation and nurturing of all things. When embodied in the natural world, this "Life" virtue results in the growth of all things (the beauty of mountain wood); when embodied in the human heart, it results in the sprouting of goodness (the heart of benevolence and righteousness). The growth of mountain wood and the sprouts of the human heart are both manifestations of the Heavenly Way's virtue of "Life" at different levels—they share the same metaphysical source.

Therefore, when Mencius says, "That which rested day and night, moistened by dew and rain, was not without the sprouting of new shoots," he is not merely making a comparison, but revealing a cosmological fact: the sprouting of mountain wood and the recovery of the sprouts of goodness are both manifestations of the Heavenly Way’s virtue of "Life-giving." The Heavenly Way ceaselessly creates and nurtures all things; this power is everywhere—even in the most devastated place (the barren Ox Mountain, the conscience-less human heart), the Heavenly Way's power of "Life" is silently at work.

This cosmological context gives Mencius’s doctrine of inherent goodness a firm metaphysical grounding: Goodness is not just a human value judgment; it is a fundamental property of the cosmos itself. The Heavenly Way has "Life" as its virtue, thus the Heavenly Way is good; human nature issues from Heaven's decree, thus human nature is also good. This is the ultimate meaning of "What Heaven imparts is called Nature."

Section 22.2 Yin-Yang Fluctuation and the Alternation of Good and Evil

The argumentative structure of the "Wood of Ox Mountain" chapter—the alternation between daytime evil (destruction) and nighttime rest (good)—corresponds perfectly with the cosmological rhythm of Yin and Yang fluctuation.

Day is Yang; Night is Yin. Motion is Yang; Stillness is Yin. Felling is Yang (active destructive force); Rest is Yin (passive restorative force). Erosion by material desire belongs to Yang (active outward force); Recovery of conscience belongs to Yin (passive inward force).

In the normal cosmic rhythm, Yin and Yang are balanced—day and night are equal, motion and stillness are balanced. However, in the case of the "Wood of Ox Mountain," the Yang (destructive force) overwhelms the Yin (restorative force)—daytime felling exceeds nighttime recovery, resulting in a net negative effect. This is a state of Yin-Yang imbalance.

The goal of cultivation is to restore the balance of Yin and Yang—to reduce the excess of Yang (material desire) and enhance the nurturing of Yin (night energy), allowing the sprouts of goodness to recover and grow. This resembles the image of the Tai Hexagram (☷ above ☰ below, Heaven over Earth), symbolizing the ideal state where Heaven and Earth intermingle and all things communicate, where superiors and inferiors are in harmony and unified in purpose. The goal of cultivation is to realize this state of "Peace/Harmony" (Tai) within the human heart—goodness fully grows, material desires are appropriately restrained, and Yin and Yang are harmoniously balanced.

Conversely, if Yin and Yang are severely imbalanced—Yang (material desire) expands excessively while Yin (sprouts of goodness) shrinks excessively—the situation resembles the Pi Hexagram (☰ above ☷ below, Heaven over Earth). The Pi Hexagram symbolizes a state of blockage where Heaven and Earth do not connect and all things stagnate. When the human heart is in this state—goodness completely obscured, conscience entirely lost—it is when "night energy is insufficient to be preserved, then one will not be far from birds and beasts."

Section 22.3 The Fu Hexagram and "Night Energy" — Returning from the Lowest Point

We have already noted the correspondence between the I Ching's Fu Hexagram and Mencius’s doctrine of "Night Energy." Let us explore this further.

The Fu Hexagram (☷ above ☳ below, Earth over Thunder): Five Yin lines above, one Yang line below. After the Yang energy has been completely covered by Yin (Kun, pure Yin), it begins to return from the very bottom.

This image perfectly corresponds to the process of the conscience beginning its faint recovery, as described by Mencius:

• Kun Hexagram (Pure Yin) = The state where conscience is completely lost (analogous to "as barren as that").
• Fu Hexagram (One Yang returning) = The state where conscience begins to faintly recover (analogous to "the energy of the clear dawn, how close their likes and dislikes are to those of other people, is but slight").

Although the single Yang in the Fu Hexagram is weak, it represents a turning point—the Yang energy has begun to rise. Similarly, the "Energy of the Clear Dawn," though possessing only a "slight" sense of goodness, represents the beginning of the conscience’s recovery. As long as this small recovery is protected and nurtured (not extinguished by "daytime actions"), it will gradually grow stronger, eventually leading to full restoration.

The I Ching (Fu Hexagram, Judgment): "Reversing its path, it returns after seven days; this is the movement of Heaven."

"Returns after seven days" (Qi ri lai fu)—After seven days (a complete cycle), the Yang energy returns. This implies: Recovery takes time. One cannot rush it. The recovery of the sprouts of goodness also requires a process—it cannot be accomplished overnight, but requires continuous, patient nurturing.

"This is the movement of Heaven" (Tian xing ye)—The return of Yang energy is not something man forces, but the natural rhythm of the Heavenly Way. Man's responsibility is to "hold" (maintain awareness, prevent the sprouts of goodness from being eroded again); Heaven's responsibility is to provide the grace of "rest between day and night" and "moisture of dew and rain."

Chapter 23: "If they obtain nurture" — A Comprehensive Development of the Philosophy of Nurturing

Section 23.1 The Way of "Nurture" — From Survival to Life to Lived Experience

"Thus, if they obtain nurture, nothing will fail to grow; if they lose nurture, nothing will fail to diminish." These two sentences elevate the theme of the chapter from the level of the "heart/mind" to the level of the "myriad things," possessing universal philosophical significance.

The concept of "Yang" (nurture) can be understood on three levels:

First, Nurture for Survival (Yang Sheng)—This is the most basic level. All things require appropriate material conditions to survive—plants need water, soil, and sunlight; animals need food and shelter; humans need food, clothing, shelter, and transport. Nurturing at this level is the foundation for all other levels of nurturing.

The material aspects of Benevolent Governance discussed in Mencius (Liang Hui Wang I)—five-acre dwellings, hundred-acre fields, raising fowl and swine—belong to this level.

Second, Nurture for Life (Yang Sheng)—This level transcends mere survival, focusing on the quality and health of life.

The Laozi, Chapter 76, states:

"Man is born soft and weak; when he dies, he is stiff and hard. Grass and trees are born tender and frail; when they die, they are dry and withered. Therefore, the stiff and hard are followers of death; the soft and weak are followers of life. Thus, whoever is skilled at preserving life..."

Here, Laozi uses the contrast between the soft, weak state of birth and the hard, withered state of death in plants and humans to discuss the way of nurturing life: softness is the state of life; rigidity is the state of death. The way to nurture life is to maintain softness—not to over-use or over-consume.

Third, Nurture of Lived Experience (Yang Sheng)—This is the highest level. Nurturing at this level concerns not only physical health but also spiritual perfection—the cultivation of virtue, the purity of the heart, and the fullness of character.

Mencius's discussion of "Yang" primarily focuses on this level: "Cultivating the heart is best achieved by reducing desires" (nurturing the heart); "I am skilled at cultivating my vast, flowing energy" (nurturing qi); "To preserve one's heart and nurture one's nature" (nurturing nature).

These three levels are progressive: nurturing the body is the foundation (without the body, the heart and nature have no place to reside), nurturing life is the intermediary (cultivation effort is only possible with a healthy life), and nurturing virtue is the goal (the perfection of morality is the ultimate purpose of life).

Section 23.2 Conditions and Methods of "Nurture"

"If they obtain nurture, nothing will fail to grow"—So, what are the specific conditions for "Yang"$19

First, Time — Continuity. Nurturing requires time; one cannot seek immediate results. Intermittent nurturing like "sunning for a day, chilling for ten" is ineffective. Just as the recovery of a forest requires many years, the recovery of the sprouts of goodness requires long-term, continuous cultivation effort.

Second, Environment — Suitability. Different plants require different growing environments, but all require a suitable environment. The growth of human goodness also requires a suitable environment—distance from excessive temptation of material desire ("To live in a benevolent neighborhood is praiseworthy") and good instruction and guidance ("attending to education in the schools").

Third, Method — Correctness. Nurturing is not arbitrary; it requires the correct method.

Mencius (Gongsun Chou I) records the analogy of "pulling up seedlings to help them grow":

"There was a man in Song who was anxious that his seedlings were not growing tall, so he pulled them up. He rushed home, telling his servant: 'I am exhausted today! I helped the seedlings grow!' His son ran out to look, and the seedlings were already withered. Few people in the world do not help seedlings grow. Those who think it is useless and abandon them are those who fail to weed the seedlings. Those who help them grow are those who pull them up—not only is it useless, but it is harmful."

This parable reveals two wrong ways of "nurturing":

One is "failing to weed the seedlings"—ceasing cultivation and letting things drift. This is equivalent to "if released, it perishes." The other is "pulling up the seedlings"—over-cultivating and seeking instant results. This is not only useless but harmful.

The correct way of "nurturing" is "to nourish straightforwardly and without harm" (yi zhi yang er wu hai)—nurturing the sprouts of goodness according to their own rhythm, naturally, without forcing, distorting, or rushing. This is like a park ranger managing a forest—not cutting (not destroying), not interfering excessively (not pulling up seedlings to help them grow), but providing basic protection (preventing cattle and sheep from grazing)—and then allowing the forest to grow on its own.

Fourth, Agency — Self-awareness. Ultimately, the agent of "nurturing" must be oneself. Others can provide help (education, guidance, a good social environment), but the one who "holds" the heart can only be oneself. "Benevolence comes from oneself; does it come from others$20" (Wei ren you ji, er you ren hu zai$21 Analects, Yan Yuan)—Practicing benevolence depends on oneself, not on others.

Chapter 24: The Mystery of the Heart — "It Appears and Disappears Without Fixed Timing, No One Knows Its Whereabouts"

Section 24.1 The Ungraspable Nature of the Heart

"It appears and disappears without fixed timing, and no one knows its whereabouts" (Chu ru wu shi, mo zhi qi xiang) describes the most perplexing characteristic of the heart: it is ungraspable and unpredictable.

Why does the heart have this characteristic$22

From the perspective of pre-Qin philosophy, the heart lies between the metaphysical and the physical—it is not purely material (like the body), nor is it purely an idea (like the Heavenly Dao). It is the specific manifestation of the Heavenly Dao within man, yet it is constrained and influenced by material conditions. This "in-between" position grants the heart transcendence (it can grasp the Heavenly Dao and discern good and evil), but also limitation (it is easily obscured by external objects and influenced by passions and desires).

Because of this, the heart's behavior is not entirely predictable—you cannot be certain when it will "disappear" (be lost) or when it will "appear" (exist). Sometimes you think you have cultivated yourself to a high level, but suddenly a temptation arises, and the conscience wavers; other times, you think you have completely fallen, but a certain event touches your heart of compassion, and the conscience revives.

This unpredictability is both a difficulty and a hope in cultivation. The difficulty is: you can never relax your vigilance ("No one knows its whereabouts"—you don't know when the conscience might "run away" from what place). The hope is: even in the most desperate moments, the conscience might suddenly return ("It appears and disappears without fixed timing"—the return of conscience also follows no fixed schedule).

Section 24.2 Pre-Qin Discourse on the Unknowable Heart

The Zhuangzi, Chapter on "The Emperor of the South Sea" (Ying Di Wang), records:

"The Emperor of the South Sea was called Shù; the Emperor of the North Sea was called Hū; the Emperor of the Center was called Hùndùn (Chaos). Shù and Hū occasionally met in Hùndùn’s domain, and Hùndùn treated them extremely well. Shù and Hū planned to repay Hùndùn’s kindness, saying: 'Everyone has seven orifices to see, hear, eat, and breathe; this one alone has none. Let us try to carve them for him!' They carved one orifice a day; after seven days, Hùndùn died."

Hùndùn (Chaos) had no seven orifices—his heart was not "opened" by the senses, thus he was complete and pure. Shù and Hū carved seven orifices for him, and Hùndùn died. This allegory explains: once the heart is opened to the senses (contact with external things), it loses its original purity. This aligns with Mencius’s view that "the organs of sight and hearing do not think, but are obscured by things"—the senses introduce external things into the heart, obscuring its original clarity. "It appears and disappears without fixed timing, no one knows its whereabouts"—the heart is ungraspable precisely because it is constantly being influenced and changed by external information flowing in through the senses.

The Guanzi (Xin Shu Shang):

"The position of the heart in the body is that of a ruler. The functions of the nine orifices are like those of officials. When the heart abides in its Way, the nine orifices follow the principles. If lust and desire are fully indulged, the eye cannot see colors, and the ear cannot hear sounds. Therefore, it is said: if the ruler strays from the Way, the subordinates lose their functions."

The heart is like a ruler, the nine orifices like officials. When the ruler follows the Way, the officials follow the principles; when the ruler is filled with lust and desire, the ears and eyes lose their proper function. This reiterates that the state of the heart depends on whether it is obscured by lust and desire.

Chapter 25: Conclusion — The Enduring Significance of the Ox Mountain Chapter

Section 25.1 The Chapter’s Position in the Entire Mencius

The "Wood of Ox Mountain" chapter can be considered the "General Analogy" for the entire Mencius—it integrates Mencius’s entire thought on human nature, heart/disposition, cultivation, and politics into one complete, vivid, and layered metaphor.

Structurally, this chapter contains the following layers:

1. The Goodness of Original Nature ("The wood of Ox Mountain was once luxuriant") → The basic assertion of inherent goodness.
2. External Harm ("Cut down with axes and adzes," "Cattle and sheep then come to graze") → The cause of the erosion of goodness.
3. The Faintness of the Sprouts of Goodness ("Not without the sprouting of new shoots," "but slight") → The goodness is eroded but not completely extinguished.
4. The Path to Recovery ("Rest between day and night," "the energy of the clear dawn") → The conditions for the recovery of goodness.
5. The Danger of Loss ("Restrained and extinguished," "not far from birds and beasts") → The peril of complete loss of goodness.
6. Errors in Cognition ("Assuming there was never any timber/talent") → The fallacy of deducing nature from phenomena.
7. The Essential Need for Nurturing ("If they obtain nurture, nothing will fail to grow") → The necessity and possibility of cultivation.
8. The Effort of Holding the Heart ("If held, it exists; if released, it perishes," "the mystery of the heart") → The core of the cultivation practice.

These eight layers are tightly linked, proceeding logically and deeply, forming a coherent argumentative chain.

Section 25.2 Profound Enlightenment from this Chapter

Enlightenment 1: Goodness is man’s original face; un-goodness is acquired distortion.

The practical implication of this enlightenment is: when facing human evil, one should not despair, because evil is not human nature; when facing one's own faults, one should not abandon oneself, because the conscience can still recover.

Enlightenment 2: The faintness of the sprouts of goodness does not equal the non-existence of the sprouts of goodness.

"Slight" (ji xi) does not mean "none." Even in the darkest moments, a sliver of light remains; even in the most degenerate person, a little sprout of goodness remains. This conviction is the starting point for all moral cultivation and all social progress.

Enlightenment 3: Cultivation is a lifelong endeavor that cannot be relaxed for a single day.

"If held, it exists; if released, it perishes"—maintaining conscience requires constant vigilance. There is no final, effortless state of cultivation—if you cultivate well today but relax tomorrow, the conscience will still be lost.

Enlightenment 4: Environment is extremely important, but not decisive.

The unfavorable environment of being "near the suburb of a great capital" certainly exacerbates the erosion of goodness, but the individual's agency in "holding" provides the possibility of transcending environmental limitations. Personal cultivation efforts and the social environment of benevolent governance must complement each other.

Enlightenment 5: Nurturing is more fundamental than Teaching.

"If they obtain nurture, nothing will fail to grow"—the key is not how much moral knowledge is taught, but providing suitable conditions for the sprouts of goodness to grow (i.e., "Yang"). Excessive lecturing (like "pulling up seedlings to help them grow") is actually harmful; truly effective education is creating an environment where sprouts of goodness can naturally flourish.

Section 25.3 Returning to the Text Itself — Re-appreciating the Beauty of the Entire Passage

Let us finally read this immortal passage in its entirety once more:

Mencius said: "The wood of Ox Mountain was once luxuriant. Because it was near the suburb of a great capital, it was cut down with axes and adzes. Could it remain beautiful$23 What rested day and night, moistened by dew and rain, was not without the sprouting of new shoots, but cattle and sheep then came to graze upon it, and thus it became as barren as that. When people see it barren and assume there was never any timber, is this the nature of the mountain$24 Even those existing in men, how could they lack the heart of Benevolence and Righteousness$25 That which caused the abandonment of the good heart is just like the axe and adze to the wood; if cut down day after day, could it remain beautiful$26 That which rested day and night, the energy of the clear dawn, how close their likes and dislikes are to those of other people, is but slight. Then what they do during the day is to restrain and extinguish it. If restrained repeatedly, then the night energy is insufficient to be preserved; if the night energy is insufficient to be preserved, then one will not be far from birds and beasts. When people see him as a beast and assume there was never any talent, is this the true disposition of man$27 Thus, if they obtain nurture, nothing will fail to grow; if they lose nurture, nothing will fail to diminish. Confucius said: ‘If held, it exists; if released, it perishes; it appears and disappears without fixed timing, and no one knows its whereabouts.’ Is this not what refers to the Heart$28"

This passage, in less than three hundred characters, encapsulates the essence of Mencius’s entire philosophy on human nature, cultivation, epistemology, and politics. Its literary conciseness, apt analogies, rigorous logic, and profound emotion make it a masterpiece of pre-Qin prose and a treasure of Chinese philosophy.

The beauty of this chapter lies not only in the depth of its thought but also in its method of expression. Mencius does not discuss abstract principles using abstract concepts; rather, he uses concrete, perceptible imagery drawn from daily life (mountain wood, axes, cattle and sheep, sprouts, dew and rain, night energy, clear dawn) to present the deepest philosophical truths. This method makes profound principles experiential and tangible—the reader does not merely "understand" the doctrine of inherent goodness but "feels" the existence and loss of conscience.

Appendix: Compilation and Brief Explanation of Related Pre-Qin and Han Texts

Chapter 26: Selected Explanations from Zhao Qi’s Annotations

Zhao Qi ($29-201 CE), a scholar of the late Eastern Han Dynasty, authored the Mencius Chapters and Sentences, which is the earliest existing commentary on the Mencius and is invaluable for understanding Mencius’s original text.

Key points from Zhao Qi’s annotation of the "Wood of Ox Mountain" chapter:

I. "Ox Mountain is a mountain in Qi. It is located south of Linzi." — Establishes the geographical location of Ox Mountain.

II. "Mei means lush beauty." — Establishes the meaning of "Mei" as abundance.

III. "Zhuozhuo means the appearance of having no trees or plants." — Establishes the meaning of "Zhuozhuo" as barrenness.

IV. "Fang means loss." — Establishes the meaning of "Fang" as loss.

V. "Pingdan means the time of clear dawn." — Establishes the meaning of "Pingdan" as the time around daybreak.

VI. "Gu means fetters." — Establishes the meaning of "Gu" as a penal instrument (extended to mean restraint).

VII. "Qing means truth/reality." — Establishes the meaning of "Qing" as true disposition (rather than emotion).

Zhao Qi’s annotations are characterized by their conciseness and clarity. He faithfully adheres to Mencius’s original text, explaining the most critical concepts with minimal wording, thus laying the foundation for subsequent deeper interpretations.

Chapter 27: Correlation between Dong Zhongshu’s Theory of Nature and the Ox Mountain Chapter

Dong Zhongshu (179–104 BCE), a great Confucian scholar of the Western Han, adopted a mediating position between Mencius’s inherent goodness and Xunzi’s inherent evil.

Luxuriant Dew of the Spring and Autumn Annals (Chunqiu Fanlu, Chapter on Deep Observation of Names):

"Nature (xing) is the simplicity of Heavenly endowment; Goodness (shan) is the transformation brought by Royal Teaching. Without the endowment, the Royal Teaching cannot transform; without the Royal Teaching, the simplicity cannot become good. ... Heaven gave birth to human nature with a good endowment, but man cannot yet be good, so Heaven established rulers to make him good—this is Heaven’s intent. People receive the nature that cannot yet be good from Heaven, and subsequently receive the education that completes the nature from the rulers. The ruler’s task, following Heaven’s intent, is to complete human nature."

Dong Zhongshu argues that human nature possesses a "good endowment" (shan zhi), but "cannot yet be good"—it has not yet fully realized goodness. It requires the ruler's teaching to actualize this good endowment. This can be understood through the "Wood of Ox Mountain" chapter:

• "Good endowment" is like the soil of Ox Mountain—it possesses the potential to grow trees.
• "Cannot yet be good" is like the soil being good but the trees not yet grown.
• "Royal Teaching’s transformation" is like reasonable forest management—using education to allow the endowment to be realized.

Dong Zhongshu’s position emphasizes the necessity of "teaching/transformation" more than Mencius—he believes a mere "good endowment" is insufficient; it requires royal teaching to become "good." This resonates with Mencius’s idea that "If they obtain nurture, nothing will fail to grow"—the "good endowment" requires "nurture" (education) to "grow" (be realized as good).

However, Mencius emphasizes that the sprout of goodness is already present (a small, existing moral emotion like compassion), whereas Dong Zhongshu emphasizes that the "good endowment" is a "potential for goodness that has not yet been realized." The difference lies in whether the goodness is seen as an existing, albeit small, moral feeling, or merely as an unrealized potential.

Chapter 28: Relevant Discourses in the Lüshi Chunqiu

The Lüshi Chunqiu (The Spring and Autumn Annals of Master Lü), compiled on the eve of the Qin unification, synthesizes various schools of thought. It discusses human nature and cultivation in several places, which can be cross-referenced with the "Wood of Ox Mountain" chapter.

The Lüshi Chunqiu (Benxing chapter) states:

"Human nature is good, just as water tends to flow downward. Everyone possesses a good heart and a good will. Evil arises afterward."

This unequivocally asserts the goodness of nature, using water's downward tendency as an analogy—completely consistent with Mencius in Gaozi II. "Evil arises afterward" is the best summary of the "Wood of Ox Mountain" chapter—evil (un-goodness) is not innate nature but something that arises subsequently.

The Lüshi Chunqiu (Xian Ji chapter) states:

"In all matters, the foundation must first be the rectification of the self; when the self is completed, the world will be completed."

"First rectify the self" (Xian zhi shen)—Cultivate oneself first. This aligns with the spirit of Mencius's "If held, it exists."

The Lüshi Chunqiu (Gui Sheng chapter) states:

"The Sage deeply ponders the world, and nothing is more precious than life."

"Nothing is more precious than life" (Mo gui yu sheng)—This resonates with Mencius's idea, "If they obtain nurture, nothing will fail to grow"—the ultimate purpose of "Yang" (nurture) is to preserve and develop life.

Chapter 29: Comprehensive Reflection: The Significance and Limitations of Pre-Qin Philosophy of Heart/Nature

Section 29.1 Significance

The greatest significance of pre-Qin theories of human nature (especially Mencius’s doctrine of inherent goodness) is that they established the dignity and moral agency of the individual.

Man has dignity because he possesses inherent goodness—he is not merely a biological organism but a moral agent. Man possesses moral agency because his goodness is innate, internal, and inalienable—no external force can fundamentally eradicate his goodness.

The "Wood of Ox Mountain" chapter expresses this conviction in a vivid manner: even under the most adverse circumstances, even when goodness has been most severely eroded, the "root" of human goodness still exists and has the possibility of recovery. This conviction is the starting point for all moral cultivation, all political reform, and all social progress.

Section 29.2 Limitations

The pre-Qin theories of human nature (including Mencius’s doctrine of inherent goodness) also have limitations:

First, the explanation for the "Origin of Evil" is not entirely thorough. As noted, Mencius outlines the process by which goodness is eroded but fails to fundamentally explain how this "process of erosion" began in the first place.

Second, insufficient attention is paid to the differences in the degree of goodness among individuals. Mencius asserts that "everyone has sprouts of goodness," but the sprouts seem stronger in some people (like Shun, whose goodness surges "like a breached river" upon hearing a good word) than others (who commit evil daily without realizing it). What accounts for this difference$30 Mencius does not fully explain.

Third, the specific methods of cultivation require more detail. "If held, it exists; if released, it perishes" is a profound principle, but how does one "hold"$31 Under what circumstances does one "hold"$32 What methods are used to "hold"$33 Mencius did discuss these concrete operational issues (e.g., "Cultivating the heart is best achieved by reducing desires," "accumulating righteousness," "preserving the heart and nurturing nature"), but they are not yet systematic or exhaustive.

However, these limitations should not negate the value of pre-Qin philosophy of nature. The fact that pre-Qin thinkers proposed such profound theories of human nature over two millennia ago is itself a great achievement in the history of human thought. The task of later scholars is to deepen and perfect this thought on the basis of the pre-Qin foundation, rather than to overthrow or deny it.

Chapter 30: Conclusion

This article has conducted a comprehensive, in-depth, and meticulous interpretation and inquiry into Mencius’s "Wood of Ox Mountain" chapter from the perspectives of the pre-Qin and ancient eras.

Through sentence-by-sentence exegesis, we have clarified the textual meaning and logical structure of this chapter. Through thematic inquiry into core ideas, we have examined this chapter against the grand backdrop of pre-Qin theories of human nature, cultivation, politics, and cosmology. Through deep philosophical inquiry, we have questioned the theoretical difficulties of the doctrine of inherent goodness and its possible responses. Through the compilation of related pre-Qin and Han documents, we have provided rich reference materials for understanding this chapter.

The core conclusions of this essay can be summarized as follows:

I. The "Wood of Ox Mountain" chapter uses the analogy of mountain wood to completely and profoundly articulate the core assertion of Mencius’s doctrine of inherent goodness: human nature is inherently good, and the loss of goodness is the result of external harm, while the recovery of goodness requires continuous nurturing.

II. The argumentative structure of this chapter is extremely precise: The beauty of the mountain wood (inherent goodness) → Felling by axes and adzes (harm of material desire) → Sprouting of new shoots (goodness is not extinguished) → Grazing by cattle and sheep (secondary harm) → Barrenness (complete loss of conscience) → Assuming no timber existed (cognitive error) → Growth if nurtured (essential nature of cultivation) → Holding preserves, releasing destroys (mystery of the heart). Each step is closely connected to the others, forming a logically rigorous chain of argument.

III. The philosophical foundation of this chapter lies in the interconnection between the "Heavenly Way" and "Human Nature"—the Heavenly Way takes "Life-giving" as its virtue, and human nature receives Heaven's "Life-giving Virtue," hence human nature is inherently good. The grace of the Heavenly Way (rest between day and night, moisture of dew and rain) is constant, so even if human goodness is eroded, the possibility of its recovery remains.

IV. The practical direction of this chapter lies in "Holding the Heart" and "Nurturing Nature"—"If held, it exists; if released, it perishes" is the fundamental principle of cultivation; "If they obtain nurture, nothing will fail to grow" is the greatest encouragement for cultivation. Cultivation is both the individual's responsibility and the responsibility of society (Benevolent Governance).

V. The existential questions embedded in this chapter (Why do inherently good people commit evil$34 How is the sprout of goodness lost$35 How can it be recovered$36 What is the relationship between individual cultivation and social environment$37) were not only the core questions of pre-Qin thought but remain eternal questions facing humanity in every era and every civilization.

Mencius used a small mountain near the capital of Qi as an analogy to convey the profoundest truths about human nature. The wood of Ox Mountain is long gone, but Mencius's words will forever echo in the heart of every person who contemplates the nature of humanity.

"Thus, if they obtain nurture, nothing will fail to grow; if they lose nurture, nothing will fail to diminish."

This is the essence of it.

Cited Texts (Pre-Qin and Han portions):

• Book of Documents (Yao Dian, Taishi, Tang Shi, Pan Geng, Zhao Gao, Wuyi, Dayu Mo, Zicai, Xibo Kan Li)
• Book of Songs (Tao Yao, Qi Ao, Sigan, Wuyang, Futian, Xiaobian, Ling Tai, Han Lu, Jiale, Zheng Min, Song Gao, Ji Ming)
• I Ching (Qian, Kun, Fu, Tai, Pi, Meng, Daxi Hexagrams, and Xici Zhuan, Wenyan, Guazhuan, Xiangzhuan)
• Analects (Xue Er, Weizheng, Liren, Gongye Chang, Yong Ye, Shu Er, Bayi, Zihan, Xiang Dang, Yan Yuan, Yang Huo, Weizi, Zizhang)
• Mencius (Liang Hui Wang I, Gongsun Chou I, Teng Wen Gong II, Li Lou I, Li Lou II, Gaozi I, Jinxin I, Jinxin II)
• Zuo Zhuan (1st year of Duke Yin, 14th year of Duke Xiang, 25th year of Duke Xiang, 1st year of Duke Zhao, 25th year of Duke Zhao)
• Guoyu
• Book of Rites (Quli I, Zhongyong, Daxue, Neize, Yue Ji)
• Xunzi (Xing E, Wang Zhi)
• Laozi (Chapters 5, 18, 38, 42, 50, 76, 80)
• Zhuangzi (Xiaoyao You, Qiwulun, Mati, Pianmu, Ying Di Wang)
• Guanzi (Quanshu, Neiye, Xinshu Shang)
• Strategies of the Warring States (Qi I)
• Lüshi Chunqiu (Benxing, Xian Ji, Gui Sheng)
• Zhao Qi, Mencius Chapters and Sentences
• Dong Zhongshu, Luxuriant Dew of the Spring and Autumn Annals (Shen Cha Ming Hao)
• Rites of Zhou (Diguans Zhaoshi)
• Xu Shen, Shuowen Jiezi

** (End of Text) **

Authored by: The Xuanji Editorial Department