《墨子》Vol. 11

This passage comes from the "Great Taking" chapter of Mozi, primarily discussing the ethical principle of "weighing benefits and harms."

Heaven's care for humans may not be as profound as that of sages, yet it bestows greater benefits upon people. Those in high positions may not love common people as deeply as common people revere them, yet they provide more substantial advantages. If one loves a servant merely because they attend to one's parents, this love is not truly for the servant themselves; if one rewards a servant solely for serving one's parents, the benefit is not genuinely for the servant. It is like forcing a child to learn music under the pretext that it is beneficial—this is not truly for the child's sake.

Assessing the relative importance in specific matters is called "quan" (weighing). Weighing is not a simple judgment of right or wrong but requires impartial handling. For instance, severing a finger to save a life is choosing the lesser of two harms. Cutting off a finger to survive when confronted by a robber is wise, even though encountering the robber is itself a misfortune. If severing a finger or a wrist equally benefits the world, there is no difference between them; if life and death equally benefit the world, there is no need to choose. Killing one person to save the world does not equate to benefiting the world by killing one; sacrificing oneself to save the world is truly acting for the world's benefit.

Weighing priorities in action is called "qiu" (decision-making). Forcing oneself to do what should not be done or choosing the lesser harm in a dilemma does not constitute true righteousness. Praising a tyrant by claiming it is the will of Heaven is incorrect. When I follow the practices of predecessors, my actions are influenced by them; when I pioneer what predecessors have not done, later generations will emulate me. A tyrant claiming to represent Heaven's will is wrong, for those with unrighteous natures cannot truly embody justice.

Striving for the greatest benefit among advantages is not compulsion; choosing the lesser harm among dangers is necessity. Acquiring benefits one does not yet possess is "taking the greater advantage"; abandoning harms one already has is "avoiding the lesser harm." Righteousness should be emphasized where it ought to be and downplayed where appropriate—this is the order of ethical principles. Virtue (De), rulers, elders, and family should all be treated according to this principle.

This passage from Mozi expounds the core concept of "universal love" (jian'ai). He argues that genuine love should be impartial and undifferentiated—one should love others as one loves oneself.

The text points out that people often show special favor to those close to them while treating distant acquaintances with indifference, a practice Mozi deems incorrect. A true sage (a person of high moral virtue) should treat all people equally, just as Yu the Great tamed the floods for the benefit of all under heaven, not for personal gain.

Mozi illustrates this principle with several analogies: love should not discriminate between kin and strangers, just as a circle remains a circle regardless of size; one should love present and future generations alike; and there should be no distinction between loving many or few. He emphasizes that "universal love" (jian'ai) is the correct path—one should not deny basic compassion even to thieves because of their wrongdoing.

The actions of a sage are not motivated by self-interest but by concern for the welfare of all. Just as parents naturally love their children, so too does a sage's love for humanity arise spontaneously. The text further notes that true love should not calculate gains and losses, just as one should not treat horses differently based on their color (such as favoring white horses).

Finally, Mozi acknowledges that practicing "universal love" is difficult, yet it remains the right path. Just as craftsmen follow standards when making tools, so too must one uphold the fundamental principle of "impartiality" in love. This philosophy transcended the rigid social hierarchies of its time, embodying an early form of humanitarian thought.

This passage from Mozi discusses the dialectical relationship between names and realities (the correspondence between terms and actual things) as well as the interplay between ren'ai (benevolent love) and li (benefit/interest). Mozi observes that human intentions often diverge from the actual effects of their actions. For instance, helping others cannot be judged solely by surface behavior.

The text illustrates this with examples: a wealthy person's assistance may not stem from genuine concern for others, and those who govern the people might have ulterior motives. Rewarding an individual does not necessarily benefit the public at large, and true wisdom does not lie in pursuing gain for oneself or one's kin. Just as knowing thieves exist in the world doesn't negate the world itself, or discovering a thief in one room doesn't invalidate the entire room. When sages act, they prioritize aligning names with realities—yet names cannot fully capture essence. A white stone remains white even when shattered; only its form changes.

Mozi proposes several methods of naming: some based on xingmao (physical features), like "mountain" or "ancestral temple"; others tied to location, such as "Qi" or "Chu." He distinguishes nine types of tong (sameness) and three kinds of yi (difference), emphasizing that things share essential similarities while manifesting distinct expressions. Ultimately, he notes that benevolence may arise from considerations of benefit—past and present acts of ren'ai may differ in motivation, just as loving a person and loving gain (huo, acquiring profit) stem from separate deliberations.

This passage reveals the core tension in Mohist jian'ai (universal love) philosophy: the aspiration to love others beyond utilitarian concerns, while acknowledging the inescapable reality of interest-driven relationships. It reflects Mozi's profound insight into the complexity of moral motivation.

This passage primarily examines the relationship between "love" and "benefit," as well as the issues of similarity and difference among things. Mozi argues that true benefit does not stem from mere consideration of personal gain, but rather from loving all people as one would love their servants. Even if private affection were removed, the public benefit of the world would not thereby diminish.

The text provides examples to illustrate this: ancient and modern understandings of walls differ; the Son of Heaven's efforts to benefit the people may not necessarily surpass those of ordinary individuals; in serving one's parents, filial devotion should remain unchanged whether in times of abundance or famine. These examples demonstrate that changes in external form do not affect the essence.

Mozi particularly emphasizes the differences among things: human appearances may seem similar but are in fact distinct; the way a sword is held determines its use; though poplar and peach wood are both types of wood, their natures differ. He points out that if one only sees surface similarities without discerning essential differences, they will fall into confusion.

The discussion on "love" is especially profound: the sage governs the world like guiding those who have lost their way; true benevolence makes no distinction between great and small; promoting benefit and eliminating harm is like draining accumulated water; caring for family should not involve calculating gains and losses; loving others should not be done for reputation, just as travelers meeting on the road treat each other with sincerity. Mozi believes that true love should transcend form and achieve equality in essence.

This passage comes from Mozi·Minor Queries, primarily discussing methods of logical reasoning and the precision of linguistic expression. Mozi (founder of the Mohist school) presents several argumentation techniques here:

First, it introduces the concept of "universal love" (jian ai), meaning one should love both one's own relatives and others equally. If love can be extended impartially to all people, then such love is identical in nature.

It then elaborates on several methods of debate:

1. "Observation of natural states" (mo lüe) involves reasoning by examining the inherent conditions of all things

2. "Comparative analysis" (lun qiu) examines similarities and differences among various statements

3. "Using names to denote reality" (yi ming ju shi) employs terminology to represent actual objects

4. "Expressing ideas through language" (yi ci shu yi) uses words to convey thoughts

5. "Explaining causes through discourse" (yi shuo chu gu) employs arguments to clarify reasons

Five specific argumentation methods are highlighted:

"Analogy" (pi) illustrates principles through concrete examples; "parallel reasoning" (mou) compares similar statements; "counter-questioning" (yuan) cites the opponent's view to rebut ("you say this is permissible, why can't I?"); "deduction" (tui) derives new conclusions from principles the opponent accepts; "this is like saying" (shi you wei) identifies similarities, while "how could I mean" (wu qi wei) points out differences.

The text particularly emphasizes that superficial similarities don't necessarily indicate identical essences—argumentation methods should be flexibly applied but not abused. For example, a white horse is a horse, so riding a white horse means riding a horse; similarly, a black horse is a horse, so riding a black horse means riding a horse. Yet some seemingly similar cases differ substantially: a servant attending their master isn't equivalent to ordinary people attending a master, nor is loving one's younger brother the same as loving a beautiful woman.

Finally, it observes that relationships between things can be complex: they may be "affirming the premise and conclusion" (shi er ran), "affirming the premise but not the conclusion" (shi er bu ran), "partially harmful and partially harmless" (yi hai yi bu hai), or "one correct and one incorrect" (yi shi...).

This passage comes from Mozi·Minor Queries, primarily discussing the relationship between names and actualities (the correspondence between terms and real-world referents) and issues of logical reasoning. Through a series of everyday examples, Mozi reveals common logical fallacies in human language expression.

For instance, the text states: We ride boats because they are made of wood, but the boat itself is not a person. Saying "thieves are people" is correct, but "many thieves" does not equate to "many people." To eliminate thieves does not mean eliminating all people. This resembles how everyone agrees that "killing thieves is not the same as killing people," yet the Mohist school (followers of Mozi) were criticized for this view—a criticism that is unreasonable.

A sequence of metaphors then illustrates problems of conceptual confusion: Enjoying reading doesn't mean enjoying the physical book itself; enjoying cockfighting doesn't mean loving all chickens. Preventing someone from jumping into a well is virtuous, but preventing them from going out isn't necessarily so. Though human lifespan is determined by heaven, saying "fate is fate" is meaningless.

Mozi particularly points out that some people's thinking is rigid (internally glued and externally closed), their minds as if sealed shut by adhesive. For example, "loving people" doesn't require loving everyone to count as loving people, but "not loving people" means failing to treat even one person well. It's like riding horses—having ridden once counts as having ridden a horse, but "not riding horses" requires never having ridden at all.

Finally, several examples clarify name-actuality relations: Living in a state doesn't mean owning the country; peaches are the fruit of peach trees, but thorns aren't fruits. Visiting the sick shows care for the person; hating illness isn't hating the person. Sacrificing to a deceased elder brother honors the brother, not ordinary ghosts. A horse with a squint may be called a "squint-eyed horse," but a horse with large eyes isn't called a "big-eyed horse."

These examples all emphasize: speech must precisely correspond to facts; one cannot arbitrarily expand or conflate concepts. Mozi argues that many disputes stem from such linguistic confusion, advocating rigorous logical thinking to distinguish right from wrong.

This passage contains several parables and dialogues from Mozi, which I'll explain section by section:

The "debate on oxen and horses" discusses logical concepts. It states that while an ox has much hair, we don't say there are "many oxen"; when we say "one horse," we mean a complete horse, and "a horse has four legs" refers to one horse having four legs, not two horses sharing four legs. If a horse has white markings, it means one of two horses is white, not that a single horse changes color itself. This distinguishes between whole and part relationships.

When Mozi reprimanded his disciple Geng Zhuzi, he used an analogy: "If I were going to Mount Taihang, I could drive either a fine steed or a goat—which should I whip?" Geng Zhuzi replied that the steed deserved whipping because it was capable of more. Mozi then said, "I too consider you worth whipping" (meaning he believed the disciple could do better).

Wu Mazi asked Mozi: "Who is wiser—spirits and deities or sages?" Mozi answered that spirits surpass sages in wisdom just as the sharp-eared and keen-eyed surpass the deaf and blind. He cited the example of Emperor Qi of Xia (Xia Hou Qi) who sent Fei Lian to mine copper at Kunwu to cast tripods. The completed tripods had three legs—they could cook without fire and move without being carried, used for sacrifices at Kunwu. These Nine Tripods were passed down for centuries from Xia to Shang and then to Zhou. Mozi asked: "Even if sages gathered all worthy ministers to deliberate, how could they foresee events centuries later? Yet spirits and deities know such things."

Zhi Tu Yu and Xianzi Shuo asked Mozi: "What's most important in practicing righteousness (yi)?" Mozi used wall-building as analogy: "Let those who can lay bricks do so, those who can fill earth fill, those who can measure measure—only by each contributing their skills can a wall be built. Practicing righteousness is the same: let those who can debate debate, those who can teach teach, those who can act act—only thus can righteousness be achieved."

Finally, Wu Mazi challenged Mozi's doctrine of "universal love" (jian ai), saying loving all people brought no visible benefit. Mozi responded: "Suppose there's a fire—if one person fetches water but fails to extinguish it, would you say the water was useless?" (Meaning we shouldn't reject universal love just because immediate results aren't apparent.)

This passage records several dialogues between Mozi (founder of Mohism) and figures like Wumazi, vividly illustrating the Mohist core principles of "universal love" (jian'ai) and "valuing righteousness" (guiyi).

On love and utility: Mozi uses a firefighting analogy to demonstrate that actions should be judged by their intentions rather than outcomes. Just as someone carrying water to extinguish a fire differs fundamentally from someone adding fuel to the flames—even if neither has yet affected the fire's intensity—the water-carrier's motivation deserves praise. Mozi thus teaches that we must examine the fundamental motivations behind actions.

On interpersonal conduct: Mozi's disciple Gengzhuzi provided fellow students in Chu with only three sheng of grain, appearing stingy, yet later voluntarily gave Mozi ten jin (an ancient monetary unit). This shows we shouldn't judge others by superficial appearances. Through this incident, Mozi instructs disciples to evaluate people by their essential character rather than temporary behavior.

On motivations for righteousness: Wumazi challenges Mozi, suggesting his good deeds resemble madness since they bring no worldly reward. Mozi responds with a servant analogy: one who works only when watched versus one consistently diligent. True virtue, he explains, must stem from inner sincerity without expectation of reward—this being the truly admirable quality.

On gentlemanly cultivation: When a disciple of Zixia asks whether gentlemen contend with others, Mozi firmly denies it. As the interlocutor counters that even pigs and dogs fight, Mozi responds with anguish, declaring it profoundly mistaken to compare gentlemanly conduct to beasts, thus emphasizing humanity's pursuit of higher moral standards.

On historical evaluation: Wumazi claims praising ancient sage-kings resembles praising dry bones. Mozi refutes this, arguing that following the sage-kings' governance principles sustains all life under heaven. To praise them is to affirm the fundamental principles upholding the world—this being the duty of humane people.

The concluding references to the He Shi Jade (legendary precious stone) and Marquis Sui's Pearl (mythical treasure) imply Mozi's belief that true value lies not in such treasures, but in practicing the moral principles of "universal love" and "valuing righteousness." These dialogues vividly demonstrate Mohism's characteristic emphasis on practical action, motivational purity, and pursuit of all-embracing love.

This passage conveys two main layers of meaning.

The first layer discusses what constitutes true "treasure." It states that feudal lords consider precious jade ritual vessels as treasures, yet these cannot truly enrich a state or bring prosperity to its people. The real treasure should be "righteousness" (Daoist virtue), for only through practicing righteousness can a state achieve stability and benefit its citizens.

The second layer illustrates principles of governance through several dialogues. When Duke Ye Zigao consulted Confucius about statecraft, Confucius replied, "A skilled ruler attracts distant peoples to submit while renewing existing traditions." Mozi found this answer too abstract, believing one should provide concrete guidance. Mozi then told Lord Wenyang of Lu that large states attacking small ones resembles children playing at riding horses—not only exhausting resources but also disrupting agriculture. Finally, when Mozi sent his disciple Gao Shizi to serve in Wei, Gao resigned after his advice went unheeded, embodying the Mohist principle of "unity of speech and action."

These contents reflect core Mohist philosophy: opposing warfare, advocating pragmatism, valuing concrete actions over empty talk, and recognizing that true worth lies in policies benefiting the common people.

Mozi's disciple Gao Shizi was offered an official position in the state of Wei, but upon discovering the ruler's incompetence and unprincipled governance, he resolutely resigned. While others criticized him for being arrogant, Mozi praised his decision as correct.

Mozi illustrated his point with a historical example: When the Duke of Zhou (a founding minister of the Zhou dynasty) relinquished his high-ranking position as one of the Three Dukes to govern the eastern Shang territories, people also called him arrogant. Yet later generations praised his virtue (De). This demonstrates that upholding moral principles shouldn't be swayed by others' criticism—even if one is labeled arrogant.

Mozi criticized conventional attitudes: "When people call someone poor, they take offense, yet if called unprincipled, they might actually feel pleased—isn't this utterly absurd?" He emphasized that true gentlemen should emulate the virtuous conduct of ancient sages while innovating benevolent practices according to contemporary circumstances, thereby continuously expanding virtuous deeds.

Another scholar, Wu Mazi, once told Mozi: "My view differs from yours—I cannot love all people equally. I love the people of Zou more than those of Yue, the people of Lu more than those of Zou, my fellow villagers more than other Lu citizens, my family more than fellow villagers, my parents more than other family members, and myself most of all. The closer people are to me, the more I love them. For instance, if someone hits me, I feel pain; if they hit others, I don't. Therefore, I only prevent what causes me pain."

This dialogue showcases the debate between Mozi (founder of Mohism) and his disciples Wu Mazi and others regarding "righteousness" (yi) and "benefit" (li). Wu Mazi claims he would never conceal the principles of righteousness and is willing to teach them to everyone. Mozi counters: If one person agrees with your view, he would want to kill you for his own benefit; if ten people agree, ten would want to kill you; if the whole world agrees, the entire world would want to kill you. Conversely, those who disagree would also want to kill you for spreading ominous words. Whether people agree or disagree, you invite mortal danger—this illustrates the principle that "speech is the gateway to calamity" (jing zhe kou ye).

Mozi then tells Duke Wen of Lu Yang an analogy: Suppose a man refuses to eat his own livestock but insists on stealing others' provisions—clearly, he suffers from a thieving sickness. Similarly, though Chu possesses vast uncultivated lands, it covets the small cities of Song and Zheng—this too is thievery. Duke Wen of Lu Yang admits this indeed constitutes a thieving sickness.

In another exchange, Mozi criticizes two Lu statesmen, Ji Sunshao and Meng Bochang: Though they distrust each other, they pray to the gods for harmony—as absurd as blindfolded men begging the gods for light.

Finally, in a dialogue with Luo Huamao, who boasts of "loving courage" (hao yong) by claiming he kills any local warrior he hears of, Mozi points out: True courage means cherishing warriors, whereas you seek to murder them—this is actually "hating courage" (wu yong). These conversations reflect Mohist opposition to warfare and advocacy for universal love (jian ai) and non-aggression (fei gong).