Mencius portrays moral feelings as deeply planted seeds within the human heart, waiting for proper conditions to sprout. Four “beginnings” are singled out: the pang of compassion at another’s distress, the blush of shame when faced with dishonor, the sense of respect and deference in solemn moments, and the intuitive grasp of right and wrong. Each functions like a bud that, under nurturing influences, blossoms into a full-fledged virtue—benevolence, righteousness, propriety, and wisdom, respectively.

To illustrate, imagine witnessing a child teetering on the edge of a well: instinctive horror and a surge to act leap forward without hesitation. Mencius argues that this moment isn’t learned behavior but proof of an inborn moral spark. The heart naturally recoils from harm inflicted on the vulnerable. Given encouragement—through education, community, and self-cultivation—these sparks ignite into guiding lights. Neglect or toxic environments, by contrast, can smother them, much like weeds choking young shoots.

This view finds echoes in recent developmental psychology, where infants as young as six months demonstrate rudimentary fairness or empathy. During the global pandemic, countless strangers stepped up to deliver groceries to the elderly, don masks for the greater good, or volunteer for vaccination drives—modern-day proof that moral instincts often override self-interest when communities bind together.

Mencius’ take blends optimism with a nudge: human nature leans toward goodness, but vigilance is required to keep those buds from wilting. Education and societal norms act as gardeners, cultivating what’s already there rather than imposing virtue from the outside. It’s a reminder that every small act of kindness, every fair decision, helps those latent sprouts reach for the sun.