(1368-1398 A.D.) that he caused the “spirit-tablet” of the sage to be removed from the Confucian Temple, to which it had been elevated about three centuries earlier; but the remonstrances of the scholars of the empire soon compelled the Emperor to revoke his decree, and the tablet of Mencius was restored to its place of honor, from which it was never subsequently degraded.  It is no matter for surprize that the people have reverenced the “Second Sage,” for he it was who has come nearest in China to the enunciation of the somewhat doubtful principle, Vox populi vox Dei.

It was unmistakably the view of Mencius that a bad ruler may be put to death by the subjects whom he has misgoverned.  King Hsuan was once discussing with him the successful rebellions against the last sovereigns of the Hsia and Shang dynasties, and, with reference to the slaying of the infamous King Chou (1122 B.C.), asked whether it was allowable for a minister to put his sovereign to death.  Mencius, in his reply, observed that the man who outrages every principle of virtue and good conduct is rightly treated as a mere robber and villain.  “I have heard of the killing of a robber and a villain named Chou; I have not heard about the killing of a king.”  That is to say, Chou by his rascality had already forfeited all the rights and privileges of kingship before he was actually put to death.

On another occasion Mencius was questioned about the duties of ministers and royal relatives.  “If the sovereign rules badly,” he said, “they should reprove him; if he persists again and again in disregarding their advice, they should dethrone him.”  The prince for whose edification the philosopher uttered these daring sentiments looked grave.  “I pray your Majesty not to take offense,” said Mencius.  “You asked me for my candid opinion, and I have told you what it is.”

Several other passages of similar purport might be cited from Mencius, but two more will suffice.  “Let us suppose,” said the sage, “that a man who is about to proceed on a long journey entrusts the care of his wife and family to a friend.  On his return he finds that the faithless friend has allowed his wife and children to suffer from cold and hunger.  What should he do with such a friend?” “He should treat him thenceforth as a stranger,” replied King Hsuan.  “And suppose,” continued Mencius, “that your Majesty had a minister who was utterly unable to control his subordinates:  how would you deal with such a one?” “I should dismiss him from my service,” said the King.  “And if throughout all your realm there is no good government, what is to be done then?” The embarrassed King, we are told, “looked this way and that, and changed the subject.”

The last of Mencius’s teachings on kingship to which we shall refer is perhaps the most remarkable of all.  “The most important element in a State,” he says emphatically, “is the people; next come the altars of the national gods; least in importance is the king.”