avaricious and evil-tempered person who was connected with Quen’s father
in matters of commerce expressed his fixed determination that the most
deserving and enlightened of his friend’s sons should enter into a
marriage agreement with his daughter, there was no manner of hesitation
among those concerned, who admitted without any questioning between
themselves that Quen was undeniably the one referred to.
“Though naturally not possessing an insignificant intellect, a
continuous habit, together with a most irreproachable sense of filial
duty, subdued within Quen’s internal organs whatever reluctance he might
have otherwise displayed in the matter, so that as courteously as was
necessary he presented to the undoubtedly very ordinary and slow-witted
maiden in question the gifts of irretrievable intention, and honourably
carried out his spoken and written words towards her.
“For a period of years the circumstances of the various persons did not
in any degree change, Quen in the meantime becoming more pure-souled
and inward-seeing with each moon-change, after the manner of the sublime
Lien-ti, who studied to maintain an unmoved endurance in all varieties
of events by placing his body to a greater extent each day in a vessel
of boiling liquid. Nevertheless, the good and charitable deities to
whom Quen unceasingly sacrificed were not altogether unmindful of his
virtues; for a son was born, and an evil disease which arose from a most
undignified display of uncontrollable emotion on her part ended in his
wife being deposited with becoming ceremony in the Family Temple.
“Upon a certain evening, when Quen sat in his inner chamber deliberating
upon the really beneficent yet somewhat inexplicable arrangement of the
all-seeing ones to whom he was very amiably disposed in consequence of
the unwonted tranquillity which he now enjoyed, yet who, it appeared to
him, could have set out the entire matter in a much more satisfactory
way from the beginning, he was made aware by the unexpected beating of
many gongs, and by other signs of refined and deferential welcome, that
a person of exalted rank was approaching his residence. While he was
still hesitating in his uncertainty regarding the most courteous and
delicate form of self-abasement with which to honour so important a
visitor--whether to rush forth and allow the chair-carriers to pass over
his prostrate form, to make a pretence of being a low-caste slave, and
in that guise doing menial service, or to conceal himself beneath
a massive and overhanging table until his guest should have availed
himself of the opportunity to examine at his leisure whatever the room
contained--the person in question stood before him. In every detail of
dress and appointment he had the undoubted appearance of being one to
whom no door might be safely closed.
“‘Alas!’ exclaimed Quen, ‘how inferior and ill-contrived is the mind
of a person of my feeble intellectual attainments. Even at this moment,
when the near approach of one who obviously commands every engaging
accomplishment might reasonably be expected to call up within it an
adequate amount of commonplace resource, its ill-destined possessor
finds himself entirely incapable of conducting himself with the fitting
outward marks of his great internal respect. This residence is certainly
unprepossessing in the extreme, yet it contains many objects of some
value and of great rarity; illiterate as this person is, he would not
be so presumptuous as to offer any for your acceptance, but if you will
confer upon him the favour of selecting that which appears to be the
most priceless and unreplaceable, he will immediately, and with every
manifestation of extreme delight, break it irredeemably in your honour,
to prove the unaffected depth of his gratified emotions.’
“‘Quen-Ki-Tong,’ replied the person before him, speaking with an evident
sincerity of purpose, ‘pleasant to this one’s ears are your words,
breathing as they do an obvious hospitality and a due regard for the
forms of etiquette. But if, indeed, you are desirous of gaining this
person’s explicit regard, break no articles of fine porcelain or rare
inlaid wood in proof of it, but immediately dismiss to a very distant
spot the three-score gong-beaters who have enclosed him within two solid
rings, and who are now carrying out their duties in so diligent a manner
that he greatly doubts if the unimpaired faculties of hearing will ever
be fully restored. Furthermore, if your exceedingly amiable intentions
desire fuller expression, cause an unstinted number of vessels of some
uninflammable liquid to be conveyed into your chrysanthemum garden and
there poured over the numerous fireworks and coloured lights which still
appear to be in progress. Doubtless they are well-intentioned marks of
respect, but they caused this person considerable apprehension as he
passed among them, and, indeed, give to this unusually pleasant and
unassuming spot the by no means inviting atmosphere of a low-class
tea-house garden during the festivities attending the birthday of the
sacred Emperor.’
“‘This person is overwhelmed with a most unendurable confusion that the
matters referred to should have been regarded in such a light,’ replied
Quen humbly. ‘Although he himself had no knowledge of them until this
moment, he is confident that they in no wise differ from the usual
honourable manifestations with which it is customary in this Province to
welcome strangers of exceptional rank and titles.’
“‘The welcome was of a most dignified and impressive nature,’ replied
the stranger, with every appearance of not desiring to cause Quen any
uneasy internal doubts; ‘yet the fact is none the less true that at the
moment this person’s head seems to contain an exceedingly powerful and
well-equipped band; and also, that as he passed through the courtyard
an ingeniously constructed but somewhat unmanageable figure of gigantic
size, composed entirely of jets of many-coloured flame, leaped out
suddenly from behind a dark wall and made an almost successful attempt
to embrace him in its ever-revolving arms. Lo Yuen greatly fears that
the time when he would have rejoiced in the necessary display of agility
to which the incident gave rise has for ever passed away.’
“‘Lo Yuen!’ exclaimed Quen, with an unaffected mingling of the emotions
of reverential awe and pleasureable anticipation. ‘Can it indeed be
an uncontroversial fact that so learned and ornamental a person as the
renowned Controller of Unsolicited Degrees stands beneath this inelegant
person’s utterly unpresentable roof! Now, indeed, he plainly understands
why this ill-conditioned chamber has the appearance of being filled with
a Heaven-sent brilliance, and why at the first spoken words of the one
before him a melodious sound, like the rushing waters of the sacred
Tien-Kiang, seemed to fill his ears.’
“‘Undoubtedly the chamber is pervaded by a very exceptional splendour,’
replied Lo Yuen, who, in spite of his high position, regarded graceful
talk and well-imagined compliments in a spirit of no-satisfaction; ‘yet
this commonplace-minded one has a fixed conviction that it is caused
by the crimson-eyed and pink-fire-breathing dragon which, despite your
slave’s most assiduous efforts, is now endeavouring to climb through
the aperture behind you. The noise which still fills his ears, also,
resembles rather the despairing cries of the Ten Thousand Lost Ones at
the first sight of the Pit of Liquid and Red-hot Malachite, yet
without question both proceed from the same cause. Laying aside further
ceremony, therefore, permit this greatly over-estimated person to
disclose the object of his inopportune visit. Long have your amiable
virtues been observed and appreciated by the high ones at Peking, O
Quen-Ki-Tong. Too long have they been unrewarded and passed over in
silence. Nevertheless, the moment of acknowledgement and advancement has
at length arrived; for, as the Book of Verses clearly says, “Even the
three-legged mule may contrive to reach the agreed spot in advance of
the others, provided a circular running space has been selected and
the number of rounds be sufficiently ample.” It is this otherwise
uninteresting and obtrusive person’s graceful duty to convey to you the
agreeable intelligence that the honourable and not ill-rewarded office
of Guarder of the Imperial Silkworms has been conferred upon you, and
to require you to proceed without delay to Peking, so that fitting
ceremonies of admittance may be performed before the fifteenth day of
the month of Feathered Insects.’
“Alas! how frequently does the purchaser of seemingly vigorous and
exceptionally low-priced flower-seeds discover, when too late, that they
are, in reality, fashioned from the root of the prolific and valueless
tzu-ka, skilfully covered with a disguising varnish! Instead of
presenting himself at the place of commerce frequented by those who
entrust money to others on the promise of an increased repayment when
certain very probable events have come to pass (so that if all
else failed he would still possess a serviceable number of taels),
Quen-Ki-Tong entirely neglected the demands of a most ordinary prudence,
nor could he be induced to set out on his journey until he had passed
seven days in public feasting to mark his good fortune, and then devoted
fourteen more days to fasting and various acts of penance, in order to
make known the regret with which he acknowledged his entire unworthiness
for the honour before him. Owing to this very conscientious, but
nevertheless somewhat short-sighted manner of behaving, Quen found
himself unable to reach Peking before the day preceding that to which Lo
Yuen had made special reference. From this cause it came about that only
sufficient time remained to perform the various ceremonies of admission,
without in any degree counselling Quen as to his duties and procedure in
the fulfilment of his really important office.
“Among the many necessary and venerable ceremonies observed during the
changing periods of the year, none occupy a more important place than
those for which the fifteenth day of the month of Feathered Insects is
reserved, conveying as they do a respectful and delicately-fashioned
petition that the various affairs upon which persons in every
condition of life are engaged may arrive at a pleasant and remunerative
conclusion. At the earliest stroke of the gong the versatile Emperor,
accompanied by many persons of irreproachable ancestry and certain
others, very elaborately attired, proceeds to an open space set apart
for the occasion. With unassuming dexterity the benevolent Emperor for
a brief span of time engages in the menial occupation of a person of
low class, and with his own hands ploughs an assigned portion of land in
order that the enlightened spirits under whose direct guardianship the
earth is placed may not become lax in their disinterested efforts to
promote its fruitfulness. In this charitable exertion he is followed
by various other persons of recognized position, the first being, by
custom, the Guarder of the Imperial Silkworms, while at the same time
the amiably-disposed Empress plants an allotted number of mulberry
trees, and deposits upon their leaves the carefully reared insects
which she receives from the hands of their Guarder. In the case of the
accomplished Emperor an ingenious contrivance is resorted to by which
the soil is drawn aside by means of hidden strings as the plough passes
by, the implement in question being itself constructed from paper of the
highest quality, while the oxen which draw it are, in reality,
ordinary persons cunningly concealed within masks of cardboard. In this
thoughtful manner the actual labours of the sublime Emperor are greatly
lessened, while no chance is afforded for an inauspicious omen to be
created by the rebellious behaviour of a maliciously-inclined ox, or by
any other event of an unforeseen nature. All the other persons, however,
are required to make themselves proficient in the art of ploughing,
before the ceremony, so that the chances of the attendant spirits
discovering the deception which has been practised upon them in the case
of the Emperor may not be increased by its needless repetition. It was
chiefly for this reason that Lo Yuen had urged Quen to journey to Peking
as speedily as possible, but owing to the very short time which remained
between his arrival and the ceremony of ploughing, not only had the
person in question neglected to profit by instruction, but he was not
even aware of the obligation which awaited him. When, therefore, in
spite of every respectful protest on his part, he was led up to a
massively-constructed implement drawn by two powerful and undeniably
evilly-intentioned-looking animals, it was with every sign of great
internal misgivings, and an entire absence of enthusiasm in the
entertainment, that he commenced his not too well understood task. In
this matter he was by no means mistaken, for it soon became plain to all
observers--of whom an immense concourse was assembled--that the usually
self-possessed Guarder of the Imperial Silkworms was conducting
himself in a most undignified manner; for though he still clung to the
plough-handles with an inspired tenacity, his body assumed every variety
of base and uninviting attitude. Encouraged by this inelegant state
of affairs, the evil spirits which are ever on the watch to turn into
derision the charitable intentions of the pure-minded entered into
the bodies of the oxen and provoked within their minds a sudden and
malignant confidence that the time had arrived when they might with
safety break into revolt and throw off the outward signs of their
dependent condition. From these various causes it came about that Quen
was, without warning, borne with irresistible certainty against the
majestic person of the sacred Emperor, the inlaid box of Imperial
silkworms, which up to that time had remained safely among the folds
of his silk garment, alone serving to avert an even more violent and
ill-destined blow.
“Well said the wise and deep-thinking Ye-te, in his book entitled
_Proverbs of Everyday Happenings_, ‘Should a person on returning from
the city discover his house to be in flames, let him examine well the
change which he has received from the chair-carrier before it is too
late; for evil never travels alone.’ Scarcely had the unfortunate Quen
recovered his natural attributes from the effect of the disgraceful
occurrence which has been recorded (which, indeed, furnished the matter
of a song and many unpresentable jests among the low-class persons
of the city), than the magnanimous Empress reached that detail of the
tree-planting ceremony when it was requisite that she should deposit the
living emblems of the desired increase and prosperity upon the leaves.
Stretching forth her delicately-proportioned hand to Quen for this
purpose, she received from the still greatly confused person in question
the Imperial silkworms in so unseemly a condition that her eyes had
scarcely rested upon them before she was seized with the rigid
sickness, and in that state fell to the ground. At this new and entirely
unforeseen calamity a very disagreeable certainty of approaching evil
began to take possession of all those who stood around, many crying
aloud that every omen of good was wanting, and declaring that unless
something of a markedly propitiatory nature was quickly accomplished,
the agriculture of the entire Empire would cease to flourish, and the
various departments of the commerce in silk would undoubtedly be thrown
into a state of most inextricable confusion. Indeed, in spite of all
things designed to have a contrary effect, the matter came about in the
way predicted, for the Hoang-Ho seven times overcame its restraining
barriers, and poured its waters over the surrounding country, thereby
gaining for the first time its well-deserved title of ‘The Sorrow of
China,’ by which dishonourable but exceedingly appropriate designation
it is known to this day.
“The manner of greeting which would have been accorded to Quen had
he returned to the official quarter of the city, or the nature of his
treatment by the baser class of the ordinary people if they succeeded
in enticing him to come among them, formed a topic of such uninviting
conjecture that the humane-minded Lo Yuen, who had observed the
entire course of events from an elevated spot, determined to make
a well-directed effort towards his safety. To this end he quickly
purchased the esteem of several of those who make a profession of their
strength, holding out the hope of still further reward if they conducted
the venture to a successful termination. Uttering loud cries of an
impending vengeance, as Lo Yuen had instructed them in the matter,
and displaying their exceptional proportions to the astonishment and
misgivings of all beholders, these persons tore open the opium-tent in
which Quen had concealed himself, and, thrusting aside all opposition,
quickly dragged him forth. Holding him high upon their shoulders, in
spite of his frequent and ill-advised endeavours to cast himself to
the ground, some surrounded those who bore him--after the manner of
disposing his troops affected by a skilful leader when the enemy begin
to waver--and crying aloud that it was their unchanging purpose to
submit him to the test of burning splinters and afterwards to torture
him, they succeeded by this stratagem in bringing him through the
crowd; and hurling back or outstripping those who endeavoured to follow,
conveyed him secretly and unperceived to a deserted and appointed
spot. Here Quen was obliged to remain until other events caused the
recollection of the many to become clouded and unconcerned towards him,
suffering frequent inconveniences in spite of the powerful protection
of Lo Yuen, and not at all times being able to regard the most necessary
repast as an appointment of undoubted certainty. At length, in the guise
of a wandering conjurer who was unable to display his accomplishments
owing to an entire loss of the power of movement in his arms, Quen
passed undetected from the city, and safely reaching the distant and
unimportant town of Lu-Kwo, gave himself up to a protracted period of
lamentation and self-reproach at the unprepossessing manner in which he
had conducted his otherwise very inviting affairs.
SECOND PERIOD
THE TEMPLE BUILDER
Two hand-counts of years passed away and Quen still remained at Lu-kwo,
all desire of returning either to Peking or to the place of his birth
having by this time faded into nothingness. Accepting the inevitable
fact that he was not destined ever to become a person with whom taels
were plentiful, and yet being unwilling to forego the charitable manner
of life which he had always been accustomed to observe, it came about
that he spent the greater part of his time in collecting together such
sums of money as he could procure from the amiable and well-disposed,
and with them building temples and engaging in other benevolent works.
From this cause it arose the Quen obtained around Lu-kwo a reputation
for high-minded piety, in no degree less than that which had been
conferred upon him in earlier times, so that pilgrims from far distant
places would purposely contrive their journey so as to pass through the
town containing so unassuming and virtuous a person.
“During this entire period Quen had been accompanied by his only son, a
youth of respectful personality, in whose entertaining society he took
an intelligent interest. Even when deeply engaged in what he justly
regarded as the crowning work of his existence--the planning and
erecting of an exceptionally well-endowed marble temple, which was to
be entirely covered on the outside with silver paper, and on the inside
with gold-leaf--he did not fail to observe the various conditions of
Liao’s existence, and the changing emotions which from time to
time possessed him. Therefore, when the person in question, without
displaying any signs of internal sickness, and likewise persistently
denying that he had lost any considerable sum of money, disclosed a
continuous habit of turning aside with an unaffected expression of
distaste from all manner of food, and passed the entire night in
observing the course of the great sky-lantern rather than in sleep, the
sage and discriminating Quen took him one day aside, and asked him, as
one who might aid him in the matter, who the maiden was, and what class
and position her father occupied.
“‘Alas!’ exclaimed Liao, with many unfeigned manifestations of an
unbearable fate, ‘to what degree do the class and position of her
entirely unnecessary parents affect the question? or how little hope
can this sacrilegious one reasonably have of ever progressing as far as
earthly details of a pecuniary character in the case of so adorable and
far-removed a Being? The uttermost extent of this wildly-hoping person’s
ambition is that when the incomparably symmetrical Ts’ain learns of
the steadfast light of his devotion, she may be inspired to deposit an
emblematic chrysanthemum upon his tomb in the Family Temple. For such a
reward he will cheerfully devote the unswerving fidelity of a lifetime
to her service, not distressing her gentle and retiring nature by the
expression of what must inevitably be a hopeless passion, but patiently
and uncomplainingly guarding her footsteps as from a distance.’
“Being in this manner made aware of the reason of Liao’s frequent and
unrestrained exclamations of intolerable despair, and of his fixed
determination with regard to the maiden Ts’ain (which seemed, above
all else, to indicate a resolution to shun her presence) Quen could not
regard the immediately-following actions of his son with anything but an
emotion of confusion. For when his eyes next rested upon the exceedingly
contradictory Liao, he was seated in the open space before the house in
which Ts’ain dwelt, playing upon an instrument of stringed woods, and
chanting verses into which the names of the two persons in question
had been skilfully introduced without restraint, his whole manner of
behaving being with the evident purpose of attracting the maiden’s
favourable attention. After an absence of many days, spent in this
graceful and complimentary manner, Liao returned suddenly to the house
of his father, and, prostrating his body before him, made a specific
request for his assistance.
“‘As regards Ts’ain and myself,’ he continued, ‘all things are arranged,
and but for the unfortunate coincidence of this person’s poverty and
of her father’s cupidity, the details of the wedding ceremony would
undoubtedly now be in a very advanced condition. Upon these entrancing
and well-discussed plans, however, the shadow of the grasping and
commonplace Ah-Ping has fallen like the inopportune opium-pipe from the
mouth of a person examining substances of an explosive nature; for the
one referred to demands a large and utterly unobtainable amount of taels
before he will suffer his greatly-sought-after daughter to accept the
gifts of irretrievable intention.’
“‘Grievous indeed is your plight,’ replied Quen, when he thus understood
the manner of obstacle which impeded his son’s hopes; ‘for in the nature
of taels the most diverse men are to be measured through the same mesh.
As the proverb says, “‘All money is evil,’ exclaimed the philosopher
with extreme weariness, as he gathered up the gold pieces in exchange,
but presently discovering that one among them was such indeed as he had
described, he rushed forth without tarrying to take up a street garment;
and with an entire absence of dignity traversed all the ways of the city
in the hope of finding the one who had defrauded him.” Well does this
person know the mercenary Ah-Ping, and the unyielding nature of his
closed hand; for often, but always fruitlessly, he has entered his
presence on affairs connected with the erecting of certain temples.
Nevertheless, the matter is one which does not admit of any incapable
faltering, to which end this one will seek out the obdurate Ah-Ping
without delay, and endeavour to entrap him by some means in the course
of argument.’
“From the time of his earliest youth Ah-Ping had unceasingly devoted
himself to the object of getting together an overwhelming number of
taels, using for this purpose various means which, without being really
degrading or contrary to the written law, were not such as might have
been cheerfully engaged in by a person of high-minded honourableness. In
consequence of this, as he grew more feeble in body, and more venerable
in appearance, he began to express frequent and bitter doubts as to
whether his manner of life had been really well arranged; for, in spite
of his great wealth, he had grown to adopt a most inexpensive habit
on all occasions, having no desire to spend; and an ever-increasing
apprehension began to possess him that after he had passed beyond, his
sons would be very disinclined to sacrifice and burn money sufficient to
keep him in an affluent condition in the Upper Air. In such a state of
mind was Ah-Ping when Quen-Ki-Tong appeared before him, for it had just
been revealed to him that his eldest and favourite son had, by flattery
and by openly praising the dexterity with which he used his brush
and ink, entrapped him into inscribing his entire name upon certain
unwritten sheets of parchment, which the one in question immediately
sold to such as were heavily indebted to Ah-Ping.
“‘If a person can be guilty of this really unfilial behaviour during the
lifetime of his father,’ exclaimed Ah-Ping, in a tone of unrestrained
vexation, ‘can it be prudently relied upon that he will carry out his
wishes after death, when they involve the remitting to him of several
thousand taels each year? O estimable Quen-Ki-Tong, how immeasurably
superior is the celestial outlook upon which you may safely rely as your
portion! When you are enjoying every variety of sumptuous profusion,
as the reward of your untiring charitable exertions here on earth, the
spirit of this short-sighted person will be engaged in doing menial
servitude for the inferior deities, and perhaps scarcely able, even by
those means, to clothe himself according to the changing nature of the
seasons.’
“‘Yet,’ replied Quen, ‘the necessity for so laborious and unremunerative
an existence may even now be averted by taking efficient precautions
before you pass to the Upper Air.’
“‘In what way?’ demanded Ah-Ping, with an awakening hope that the matter
might not be entirely destitute of cheerfulness, yet at the same time
preparing to examine with even unbecoming intrusiveness any expedient
which Quen might lay before him. ‘Is it not explicitly stated that
sacrifices and acts of a like nature, when performed at the end of one’s
existence by a person who to that time has professed no sort of interest
in such matters, shall in no degree be entered as to his good, but
rather regarded as examples of deliberate presumptuousness, and made the
excuse for subjecting him to more severe tortures and acts of penance
than would be his portion if he neglected the custom altogether?’
“‘Undoubtedly such is the case,’ replied Quen; ‘and on that account it
would indicate a most regrettable want of foresight for you to conduct
your affairs in the manner indicated. The only undeniably safe course
is for you to entrust the amount you will require to a person of
exceptional piety, receiving in return his written word to repay the
full sum whenever you shall claim it from him in the Upper Air. By this
crafty method the amount will be placed at the disposal of the person
in question as soon as he has passed beyond, and he will be held by his
written word to return it to you whenever you shall demand it.’
“So amiably impressed with this ingenious scheme was Ah-Ping that he
would at once have entered more fully into the detail had the thought
not arisen in his mind that the person before him was the father of
Liao, who urgently required a certain large sum, and that for this
reason he might with prudence inquire more fully into the matter
elsewhere, in case Quen himself should have been imperceptibly led
aside, even though he possessed intentions of a most unswerving
honourableness. To this end, therefore, he desired to converse again
with Quen on the matter, pleading that at that moment a gathering
of those who direct enterprises of a commercial nature required his
presence. Nevertheless, he would not permit the person referred to to
depart until he had complimented him, in both general and specific
terms, on the high character of his life and actions, and the
intelligent nature of his understanding, which had enabled him with so
little mental exertion to discover an efficient plan.
“Without delay Ah-Ping sought out those most skilled in all varieties
of law-forms, in extorting money by devices capable of very different
meanings, and in expedients for evading just debts; but all agreed that
such an arrangement as the one he put before them would be unavoidably
binding, provided the person who received the money alluded to spent it
in the exercise of his charitable desires, and provided also that the
written agreement bore the duty seal of the high ones at Peking, and was
deposited in the coffin of the lender. Fully satisfied, and rejoicing
greatly that he could in this way adequately provide for his future and
entrap the avaricious ones of his house, Ah-Ping collected together the
greater part of his possessions, and converting it into pieces of gold,
entrusted them to Quen on the exact understanding that has already been
described, he receiving in turn Quen’s written and thumb-signed paper
of repayment, and his assurance that the whole amount should be expended
upon the silver-paper and gold-leaf Temple with which he was still
engaged.
“It is owing to this circumstance that Quen-Ki-Tong’s irreproachable
name has come to be lightly regarded by many who may be fitly likened to
the latter person in the subtle and experienced proverb, ‘The wise man’s
eyes fell before the gaze of the fool, fearing that if he looked he
must cry aloud, “Thou hopeless one!” “There,” said the fool to himself,
“behold this person’s power!”’ These badly educated and undiscriminating
persons, being entirely unable to explain the ensuing train of events,
unhesitatingly declare that Quen-Ki-Tong applied a portion of the money
which he had received from Ah-Ping in the manner described to the object
of acquiring Ts’ain for his son Liao. In this feeble and incapable
fashion they endeavour to stigmatize the pure-minded Quen as one who
acted directly contrary to his deliberately spoken word, whereas the
desired result was brought about in a much more artful manner; they
describe the commercially successful Ah-Ping as a person of very
inferior prudence, and one easily imposed upon; while they entirely pass
over, as a detail outside the true facts, the written paper preserved
among the sacred relics in the Temple, which announces, among other
gifts of a small and uninviting character, ‘Thirty thousand taels from
an elderly ginseng merchant of Lu-kwo, who desires to remain nameless,
through the hand of Quen-Ki-Tong.’ The full happening in its real and
harmless face is now set forth for the first time.
“Some weeks after the recorded arrangement had been arrived at by
Ah-Ping and Quen, when the taels in question had been expended upon the
Temple and were, therefore, infallibly beyond recall, the former person
chanced to be passing through the public garden in Lu-kwo when he heard
a voice lifted up in the expression of every unendurable feeling of
dejection to which one can give utterance. Stepping aside to learn the
cause of so unprepossessing a display of unrestrained agitation, and
in the hope that perhaps he might be able to use the incident in a
remunerative manner, Ah-Ping quickly discovered the unhappy being who,
entirely regardless of the embroidered silk robe which he wore, reclined
upon a raised bank of uninviting earth, and waved his hands from side to
side as his internal emotions urged him.
“‘Quen-Ki-Tong!’ exclaimed Ah-Ping, not fully convinced that the fact
was as he stated it in spite of the image clearly impressed upon his
imagination; ‘to what unpropitious occurrence is so unlooked-for an
exhibition due? Are those who traffic in gold-leaf demanding a high and
prohibitive price for that commodity, or has some evil and vindicative
spirit taken up its abode within the completed portion of the Temple,
and by its offensive but nevertheless diverting remarks and actions
removed all semblance of gravity from the countenances of those who
daily come to admire the construction?’
“‘O thrice unfortunate Ah-Ping,’ replied Quen when he observed the
distinguishing marks of the person before him, ‘scarcely can this
greatly overwhelmed one raise his eyes to your open and intelligent
countenance; for through him you are on the point of experiencing a very
severe financial blow, and it is, indeed, on your account more than on
his own that he is now indulging in these outward signs of a grief too
far down to be expressed in spoken words.’ And at the memory of his
former occupation, Quen again waved his arms from side to side with
untiring assiduousness.
“‘Strange indeed to this person’s ears are your words,’ said Ah-Ping,
outwardly unmoved, but with an apprehensive internal pain that he would
have regarded Quen’s display of emotion with an easier stomach if his
own taels were safely concealed under the floor of his inner chamber.
‘The sum which this one entrusted to you has, without any pretence
been expended upon the Temple, while the written paper concerning the
repayment bears the duty seal of the high ones at Peking. How, then, can
Ah-Ping suffer a loss at the hands of Quen-Ki-Tong?’
“‘Ah-Ping,’ said Quen, with every appearance of desiring that both
persons should regard the matter in a conciliatory spirit, ‘do not
permit the awaiting demons, which are ever on the alert to enter into
a person’s mind when he becomes distressed out of the common order of
events, to take possession of your usually discriminating faculties
until you have fully understood how this affair has come about. It is no
unknown thing for a person of even exceptional intelligence to reverse
his entire manner of living towards the end of a long and consistent
existence; the far-seeing and not lightly-moved Ah-Ping himself has
already done so. In a similar, but entirely contrary manner, the person
who is now before you finds himself impelled towards that which will
certainly bear a very unpresentable face when the circumstances
become known; yet by no other means is he capable of attaining his
greatly-desired object.’
“‘And to what end does that trend?’ demanded Ah-Ping, in no degree
understanding how the matter affected him.
“‘While occupied with enterprises which those of an engaging and
complimentary nature are accustomed to refer to as charitable,
this person has almost entirely neglected a duty of scarcely less
importance--that of establishing an unending line, through which his
name and actions shall be kept alive to all time,’ replied Quen. ‘Having
now inquired into the matter, he finds that his only son, through whom
alone the desired result can be obtained, has become unbearably attached
to a maiden for whom a very large sum is demanded in exchange. The
thought of obtaining no advantage from an entire life of self-denial
is certainly unprepossessing in the extreme, but so, even to a more
advanced degree, is the certainty that otherwise the family monuments
will be untended, and the temple of domestic virtues become an early
ruin. This person has submitted the dilemma to the test of omens, and
after considering well the reply, he has decided to obtain the price of
the maiden in a not very honourable manner, which now presents itself,
so that Liao may send out his silk-bound gifts without delay.’
“‘It is an unalluring alternative,’ said Ah-Ping, whose only inside
thought was one of gratification that the exchange money for Ts’ain
would so soon be in his possession, ‘yet this person fails to perceive
how you could act otherwise after the decision of the omens. He now
understands, moreover, that the loss you referred to on his part was in
the nature of a figure of speech, as one makes use of thunderbolts
and delicately-scented flowers to convey ideas of harsh and amiable
passions, and alluded in reality to the forthcoming departure of his
daughter, who is, as you so versatilely suggested, the comfort and
riches of his old age.’
“‘O venerable, but at this moment somewhat obtuse, Ah-Ping,’ cried
Quen, with a recurrence to his former method of expressing his unfeigned
agitation, ‘is your evenly-balanced mind unable to grasp the essential
fact of how this person’s contemplated action will affect your own
celestial condition? It is a distressing but entirely unavoidable fact,
that if this person acts in the manner which he has determined upon, he
will be condemned to the lowest place of torment reserved for those
who fail at the end of an otherwise pure existence, and in this he
will never have an opportunity of meeting the very much higher placed
Ah-Ping, and of restoring to him the thirty-thousand taels as agreed
upon.’
“At these ill-destined words, all power of rigidness departed from
Ah-Ping’s limbs, and he sank down upon the forbidding earth by Quen’s
side.
“‘O most unfortunate one who is now speaking,’ he exclaimed, when at
length his guarding spirit deemed it prudent to restore his power of
expressing himself in words, ‘happy indeed would have been your lot had
you been content to traffic in ginseng and other commodities of which
you have actual knowledge. O amiable Quen, this matter must be in some
way arranged without causing you to deviate from the entrancing paths of
your habitual virtue. Could not the very reasonable Liao be induced to
look favourably upon the attractions of some low-priced maiden, in which
case this not really hard-stomached person would be willing to advance
the necessary amount, until such time as it could be restored, at a very
low and unremunerative rate of interest?’
“‘This person has observed every variety of practical humility in the
course of his life,’ replied Quen with commendable dignity, ‘yet he now
finds himself totally unable to overcome an inward repugnance to the
thought of perpetuating his honoured name and race through the medium of
any low-priced maiden. To this end has he decided.’
“Those who were well acquainted with Ah-Ping in matters of commerce did
not hesitate to declare that his great wealth had been acquired by his
consistent habit of forming an opinion quickly while others hesitated.
On the occasion in question he only engaged his mind with the opposing
circumstances for a few moments before he definitely fixed upon the
course which he should pursue.
“‘Quen-Ki-Tong,’ he said, with an evident intermingling of many very
conflicting emotions, ‘retain to the end this well-merited reputation
for unaffected honourableness which you have so fittingly earned. Few
in the entire Empire, with powers so versatilely pointing to an eminent
position in any chosen direction, would have been content to pass their
lives in an unremunerative existence devoted to actions of charity. Had
you selected an entirely different manner of living, this person has
every confidence that he, and many others in Lu-kwo, would by this time
be experiencing a very ignoble poverty. For this reason he will make
it his most prominent ambition to hasten the realization of the amiable
hopes expressed both by Liao and by Ts’ain, concerning their
future relationship. In this, indeed, he himself will be more than
exceptionally fortunate should the former one prove to possess even a
portion of the clear-sighted sagaciousness exhibited by his engaging
father.’
“VERSES COMPOSED BY A MUSICIAN OF LU-KWO, ON THE
OCCASION OF THE WEDDING CEREMONY OF
LIAO AND TS’AIN
“Bright hued is the morning, the dark clouds have fallen;
At the mere waving of Quen’s virtuous hands they melted away.
Happy is Liao in the possession of so accomplished a parent,
Happy also is Quen to have so discriminating a son.
“The two persons in question sit, side by side, upon an
embroidered couch,
Listening to the well-expressed compliments of those who pass to
and fro.
From time to time their eyes meet, and glances of a very
significant amusement pass between them;
Can it be that on so ceremonious an occasion they are recalling
events of a gravity-removing nature?
“The gentle and rainbow-like Ts’ain has already arrived,
With the graceful motion of a silver carp gliding through a screen
of rushes, she moves among those who are assembled.
On the brow of her somewhat contentious father there rests the
shadow of an ill-repressed sorrow;
Doubtless the frequently-misjudged Ah-Ping is thinking of his
lonely hearth, now that he is for ever parted from that which
he holds most precious.
“In the most commodious chamber of the house the elegant
wedding-gifts are conspicuously displayed; let us stand beside
the one which we have contributed, and point out its
excellence to those who pass by.
Surely the time cannot be far distant when the sound of many gongs
will announce that the very desirable repast is at length to
be partaken of.”
VIII.
THE VISION OF YIN, THE SON OF YAT HUANG
When Yin, the son of Yat Huang, had passed beyond the years assigned
to the pursuit of boyhood, he was placed in the care of the hunchback
Quang, so that he might be fully instructed in the management of the
various weapons used in warfare, and also in the art of stratagem, by
which a skilful leader is often enabled to conquer when opposed to an
otherwise overwhelming multitude. In all these accomplishments Quang
excelled to an exceptional degree; for although unprepossessing in
appearance he united matchless strength to an untiring subtlety. No
other person in the entire Province of Kiang-si could hurl a javelin so
unerringly while uttering sounds of terrifying menace, or could cause
his sword to revolve around him so rapidly, while his face looked
out from the glittering circles with an expression of ill-intentioned
malignity that never failed to inspire his adversary with irrepressible
emotions of alarm. No other person could so successfully feign to
be devoid of life for almost any length of time, or by his manner of
behaving create the fixed impression that he was one of insufficient
understanding, and therefore harmless. It was for these reasons that
Quang was chosen as the instructor of Yin by Yat Huang, who, without
possessing any official degree, was a person to whom marks of obeisance
were paid not only within his own town, but for a distance of many li
around it.
At length the time arrived when Yin would in the ordinary course of
events pass from the instructorship of Quang in order to devote himself
to the commerce in which his father was engaged, and from time to time
the unavoidable thought arose persistently within his mind that although
Yat Huang doubtless knew better than he did what the circumstances of
the future required, yet his manner of life for the past years was not
such that he could contemplate engaging in the occupation of buying and
selling porcelain clay with feelings of an overwhelming interest. Quang,
however, maintained with every manifestation of inspired assurance that
Yat Huang was to be commended down to the smallest detail, inasmuch
as proficiency in the use of both blunt and sharp-edged weapons, and a
faculty for passing undetected through the midst of an encamped body
of foemen, fitted a person for the every-day affairs of life above all
other accomplishments.
“Without doubt the very accomplished Yat Huan is well advised on this
point,” continued Quang, “for even this mentally short-sighted person
can call up within his understanding numerous specific incidents in the
ordinary career of one engaged in the commerce of porcelain clay when
such attainments would be of great remunerative benefit. Does the
well-endowed Yin think, for example, that even the most depraved person
would endeavour to gain an advantage over him in the matter of buying or
selling porcelain clay if he fully understood the fact that the one with
whom he was trafficking could unhesitatingly transfix four persons with
one arrow at the distance of a hundred paces? Or to what advantage would
it be that a body of unscrupulous outcasts who owned a field of inferior
clay should surround it with drawn swords by day and night, endeavouring
meanwhile to dispose of it as material of the finest quality, if the one
whom they endeavoured to ensnare in this manner possessed the power of
being able to pass through their ranks unseen and examine the clay at
his leisure?”
“In the cases to which reference has been made, the possession of those
qualities would undoubtedly be of considerable use,” admitted Yin;
“yet, in spite of his entire ignorance of commercial matters, this one
has a confident feeling that it would be more profitable to avoid such
very doubtful forms of barter altogether rather than spend eight years
in acquiring the arts by which to defeat them. That, however, is a
question which concerns this person’s virtuous and engaging father more
than his unworthy self, and his only regret is that no opportunity has
offered by which he might prove that he has applied himself diligently
to your instruction and example, O amiable Quang.”
It had long been a regret to Quang also that no incident of a disturbing
nature had arisen whereby Yin could have shown himself proficient in the
methods of defence and attack which he had taught him. This deficiency
he had endeavoured to overcome, as far as possible, by constructing
life-like models of all the most powerful and ferocious types of
warriors and the fiercest and most relentless animals of the forest,
so that Yin might become familiar with their appearance and discover in
what manner each could be the most expeditiously engaged.
“Nevertheless,” remarked Quang, on an occasion when Yin appeared to be
covered with honourable pride at having approached an unusually large
and repulsive-looking tiger so stealthily that had the animal been
really alive it would certainly have failed to perceive him, “such
accomplishments are by no means to be regarded as conclusive in
themselves. To steal insidiously upon a destructively-included wild
beast and transfix it with one well-directed blow of a spear is attended
by difficulties and emotions which are entirely absent in the case of a
wickerwork animal covered with canvas-cloth, no matter how deceptive in
appearance the latter may be.”
To afford Yin a more trustworthy example of how he should engage with
an adversary of formidable proportions, Quang resolved upon an ingenious
plan. Procuring the skin of a grey wolf, he concealed himself within it,
and in the early morning, while the mist-damp was still upon the ground,
he set forth to meet Yin, who had on a previous occasion spoken to
him of his intention to be at a certain spot at such an hour. In this
conscientious enterprise, the painstaking Quang would doubtless have
been successful, and Yin gained an assured proficiency and experience,
had it not chanced that on the journey Quang encountered a labourer of
low caste who was crossing the enclosed ground on his way to the rice
field in which he worked. This contemptible and inopportune person,
not having at any period of his existence perfected himself in the
recognized and elegant methods of attack and defence, did not act in
the manner which would assuredly have been adopted by Yin in similar
circumstances, and for which Quang would have been fully prepared. On
the contrary, without the least indication of what his intention was,
he suddenly struck Quang, who was hesitating for a moment what action to
take, a most intolerable blow with a formidable staff which he carried.
The stroke in question inflicted itself upon Quang upon that part of the
body where the head becomes connected with the neck, and would certainly
have been followed by others of equal force and precision had not Quang
in the meantime decided that the most dignified course for him to adopt
would be to disclose his name and titles without delay. Upon learning
these facts, the one who stood before him became very grossly and
offensively amused, and having taken from Quang everything of value
which he carried among his garments, went on his way, leaving Yin’s
instructor to retrace his steps in unendurable dejection, as he then
found that he possessed no further interest whatever in the undertaking.
When Yat Huang was satisfied that his son was sufficiently skilled in
the various arts of warfare, he called him to his inner chamber, and
having barred the door securely, he placed Yin under a very binding oath
not to reveal, until an appointed period, the matter which he was going
to put before him.
“From father to son, in unbroken line for ten generations, has such a
custom been observed,” he said, “for the course of events is not to be
lightly entered upon. At the commencement of that cycle, which period is
now fully fifteen score years ago, a very wise person chanced to incur
the displeasure of the Emperor of that time, and being in consequence
driven out of the capital, he fled to the mountains. There his subtle
discernment and the pure and solitary existence which he led resulted in
his becoming endowed with faculties beyond those possessed by ordinary
beings. When he felt the end of his earthly career to be at hand he
descended into the plain, where, in a state of great destitution and
bodily anguish, he was discovered by the one whom this person has
referred to as the first of the line of ancestors. In return for the
care and hospitality with which he was unhesitatingly received,
the admittedly inspired hermit spent the remainder of his days in
determining the destinies of his rescuer’s family and posterity. It
is an undoubted fact that he predicted how one would, by well-directed
enterprise and adventure, rise to a position of such eminence in the
land that he counselled the details to be kept secret, lest the envy
and hostility of the ambitious and unworthy should be raised. From this
cause it has been customary to reveal the matter fully from father
to son, at stated periods, and the setting out of the particulars in
written words has been severely discouraged. Wise as this precaution
certainly was, it has resulted in a very inconvenient state of things;
for a remote ancestor--the fifth in line from the beginning--experienced
such vicissitudes that he returned from his travels in a state of most
abandoned idiocy, and when the time arrived that he should, in turn,
communicate to his son, he was only able to repeat over and over again
the name of the pious hermit to whom the family was so greatly indebted,
coupling it each time with a new and markedly offensive epithet. The
essential details of the undertaking having in this manner passed beyond
recall, succeeding generations, which were merely acquainted with the
fact that a very prosperous future awaited the one who fulfilled the
conditions, have in vain attempted to conform to them. It is not an
alluring undertaking, inasmuch as nothing of the method to be pursued
can be learned, except that it was the custom of the early ones, who
held the full knowledge, to set out from home and return after a period
of years. Yet so clearly expressed was the prophecy, and so great the
reward of the successful, that all have eagerly journeyed forth when
the time came, knowing nothing beyond that which this person has now
unfolded to you.”
When Yat Huang reached the end of the matter which it was his duty to
disclose, Yin for some time pondered the circumstances before replying.
In spite of a most engaging reverence for everything of a sacred nature,
he could not consider the inspired remark of the well-intentioned hermit
without feelings of a most persistent doubt, for it occurred to him that
if the person in question had really been as wise as he was represented
to be, he might reasonably have been expected to avoid the unaccountable
error of offending the enlightened and powerful Emperor under whom he
lived. Nevertheless, the prospect of engaging in the trade of porcelain
clay was less attractive in his eyes than that of setting forth upon a
journey of adventure, so that at length he expressed his willingness to
act after the manner of those who had gone before him.
This decision was received by Yat Huang with an equal intermingling of
the feelings of delight and concern, for although he would have by no
means pleasurably contemplated Yin breaking through a venerable and
esteemed custom, he was unable to put entirely from him the thought of
the degrading fate which had overtaken the fifth in line who made the
venture. It was, indeed, to guard Yin as much as possible against
the dangers to which he would become exposed, if he determined on the
expedition, that the entire course of his training had been selected. In
order that no precaution of a propitious nature should be neglected, Yat
Huang at once despatched written words of welcome to all with whom he
was acquainted, bidding them partake of a great banquet which he was
preparing to mark the occasion of his son’s leave-taking. Every variety
of sacrifice was offered up to the controlling deities, both good and
bad; the ten ancestors were continuously exhorted to take Yin under
their special protection, and sets of verses recording his virtues and
ambitions were freely distributed among the necessitous and low-caste
who could not be received at the feast.
The dinner itself exceeded in magnificence any similar event that
had ever taken place in Ching-toi. So great was the polished ceremony
observed on the occasion, that each guest had half a score of cups of
the finest apricot-tea successively placed before him and taken away
untasted, while Yat Huang went to each in turn protesting vehemently
that the honour of covering such pure-minded and distinguished persons
was more than his badly designed roof could reasonably bear, and
wittingly giving an entrancing air of reality to the spoken compliment
by begging them to move somewhat to one side so that they might escape
the heavy central beam if the event which he alluded to chanced to take
place. After several hours had been spent in this congenial occupation,
Yat Huang proceeded to read aloud several of the sixteen discourses on
education which, taken together, form the discriminating and infallible
example of conduct known as the Holy Edict. As each detail was dwelt
upon Yin arose from his couch and gave his deliberate testimony that
all the required tests and rites had been observed in his own case.
The first part of the repast was then partaken of, the nature of the
ingredients and the manner of preparing them being fully explained,
and in a like manner through each succeeding one of the four-and-forty
courses. At the conclusion Yin again arose, being encouraged by the
repeated uttering of his name by those present, and with extreme modesty
and brilliance set forth his manner of thinking concerning all subjects
with which he was acquainted.
Early on the morning of the following day Yin set out on his travels,
entirely unaccompanied, and carrying with him nothing beyond a sum of
money, a silk robe, and a well-tried and reliable spear. For many days
he journeyed in a northerly direction, without encountering anything
sufficiently unusual to engage his attention. This, however, was
doubtless part of a pre-arranged scheme so that he should not be drawn
from a destined path, for at a small village lying on the southern shore
of a large lake, called by those around Silent Water, he heard of the
existence of a certain sacred island, distant a full day’s sailing,
which was barren of all forms of living things, and contained only a
single gigantic rock of divine origin and majestic appearance. Many
persons, the villagers asserted, had sailed to the island in the hope
of learning the portent of the rock, but none ever returned, and they
themselves avoided coming even within sight of it; for the sacred stone,
they declared, exercised an evil influence over their ships, and would,
if permitted, draw them out of their course and towards itself. For this
reason Yin could find no guide, whatever reward he offered, who would
accompany him; but having with difficulty succeeded in hiring a small
boat of inconsiderable value, he embarked with food, incense, and
materials for building fires, and after rowing consistently for nearly
the whole of the day, came within sight of the island at evening.
Thereafter the necessity of further exertion ceased, for, as they of the
village had declared would be the case, the vessel moved gently forward,
in an unswerving line, without being in any way propelled, and reaching
its destination in a marvellously short space of time, passed behind a
protecting spur of land and came to rest. It then being night, Yin did
no more than carry his stores to a place of safety, and after lighting
a sacrificial fire and prostrating himself before the rock, passed into
the Middle Air.
In the morning Yin’s spirit came back to the earth amid the sound of
music of a celestial origin, which ceased immediately he recovered full
consciousness. Accepting this manifestation as an omen of Divine favour,
Yin journeyed towards the centre of the island where the rock stood,
at every step passing the bones of innumerable ones who had come on a
similar quest to his, and perished. Many of these had left behind them
inscriptions on wood or bone testifying their deliberate opinion of the
sacred rock, the island, their protecting deities, and the entire train
of circumstances, which had resulted in their being in such a condition.
These were for the most part of a maledictory and unencouraging nature,
so that after reading a few, Yin endeavoured to pass without being in
any degree influenced by such ill-judged outbursts.
“Accursed be the ancestors of this tormented one to four generations
back!” was prominently traced upon an unusually large shoulder-blade.
“May they at this moment be simmering in a vat of unrefined dragon’s
blood, as a reward for having so undiscriminatingly reared the person
who inscribes these words only to attain this end!” “Be warned, O later
one, by the signs around!” Another and more practical-minded person had
written: “Retreat with all haste to your vessel, and escape while
there is yet time. Should you, by chance, again reach land through this
warning, do not neglect, out of an emotion of gratitude, to burn an
appropriate amount of sacrifice paper for the lessening of the torments
of the spirit of Li-Kao,” to which an unscrupulous one, who was plainly
desirous of sharing in the benefit of the requested sacrifice, without
suffering the exertion of inscribing a warning after the amiable manner
of Li-Kao, had added the words, “and that of Huan Sin.”
Halting at a convenient distance from one side of the rock which,
without being carved by any person’s hand, naturally resembled the
symmetrical countenance of a recumbent dragon (which he therefore
conjectured to be the chief point of the entire mass), Yin built
his fire and began an unremitting course of sacrifice and respectful
ceremony. This manner of conduct he observed conscientiously for
the space of seven days. Towards the end of that period a feeling of
unendurable dejection began to possess him, for his stores of all kinds
were beginning to fail, and he could not entirely put behind him the
memory of the various well-intentioned warnings which he had received,
or the sight of the fleshless ones who had lined his path. On the eighth
day, being weak with hunger and, by reason of an intolerable thirst,
unable to restrain his body any longer in the spot where he had hitherto
continuously prostrated himself nine-and-ninety times each hour without
ceasing, he rose to his feet and retraced his steps to the boat in order
that he might fill his water-skins and procure a further supply of food.
With a complicated emotion, in which was present every abandoned and
disagreeable thought to which a person becomes a prey in moments of
exceptional mental and bodily anguish, he perceived as soon as
he reached the edge of the water that the boat, upon which he was
confidently relying to carry him back when all else failed, had
disappeared as entirely as the smoke from an extinguished opium pipe.
At this sight Yin clearly understood the meaning of Li-Kao’s unregarded
warning, and recognized that nothing could now save him from adding his
incorruptible parts to those of the unfortunate ones whose unhappy
fate had, seven days ago, engaged his refined pity. Unaccountably
strengthened in body by the indignation which possessed him, and
inspired with a virtuous repulsion at the treacherous manner of behaving
on the part of those who guided his destinies, he hastened back to
his place of obeisance, and perceiving that the habitually placid and
introspective expression on the dragon face had imperceptibly changed
into one of offensive cunning and unconcealed contempt, he snatched up
his spear and, without the consideration of a moment, hurled it at
a score of paces distance full into the sacred but nevertheless very
unprepossessing face before him.
At the instant when the presumptuous weapon touched the holy stone the
entire intervening space between the earth and the sky was filled with
innumerable flashes of forked and many-tongued lightning, so that the
island had the appearance of being the scene of a very extensive but
somewhat badly-arranged display of costly fireworks. At the same
time the thunder rolled among the clouds and beneath the sea in an
exceedingly disconcerting manner. At the first indication of these
celestial movements a sudden blindness came upon Yin, and all power of
thought or movement forsook him; nevertheless, he experienced an emotion
of flight through the air, as though borne upwards upon the back of a
winged creature. When this emotion ceased, the blindness went from him
as suddenly and entirely as if a cloth had been pulled away from his
eyes, and he perceived that he was held in the midst of a boundless
space, with no other object in view than the sacred rock, which had
opened, as it were, revealing a mighty throng within, at the sight of
whom Yin’s internal organs trembled as they would never have moved at
ordinary danger, for it was put into his spirit that these in whose
presence he stood were the sacred Emperors of his country from the
earliest time until the usurpation of the Chinese throne by the
devouring Tartar hordes from the North.
As Yin gazed in fear-stricken amazement, a knowledge of the various Pure
Ones who composed the assembly came upon him. He understood that the
three unclad and commanding figures which stood together were the
Emperors of the Heaven, Earth, and Man, whose reigns covered a space of
more than eighty thousand years, commencing from the time when the world
began its span of existence. Next to them stood one wearing a robe of
leopard-skin, his hand resting upon a staff of a massive club, while on
his face the expression of tranquillity which marked his predecessors
had changed into one of alert wakefulness; it was the Emperor of Houses,
whose reign marked the opening of the never-ending strife between man
and all other creatures. By his side stood his successor, the Emperor of
Fire, holding in his right hand the emblem of the knotted cord, by which
he taught man to cultivate his mental faculties, while from his mouth
issued smoke and flame, signifying that by the introduction of fire he
had raised his subjects to a state of civilized life.
On the other side of the boundless chamber which seemed to be contained
within the rocks were Fou-Hy, Tchang-Ki, Tcheng-Nung, and Huang,
standing or reclining together. The first of these framed the calendar,
organized property, thought out the eight Essential Diagrams, encouraged
the various branches of hunting, and the rearing of domestic animals,
and instituted marriage. From his couch floated melodious sounds
in remembrance of his discovery of the property of stringed woods.
Tchang-Ki, who manifested the property of herbs and growing plants, wore
a robe signifying his attainments by means of embroidered symbols.
His hand rested on the head of the dragon, while at his feet flowed a
bottomless canal of the purest water. The discovery of written letters
by Tcheng-Nung, and his ingenious plan of grouping them after the manner
of the constellations of stars, was emblemized in a similar manner,
while Huang, or the Yellow Emperor, was surrounded by ores of the
useful and precious metals, weapons of warfare, written books, silks
and articles of attire, coined money, and a variety of objects, all
testifying to his ingenuity and inspired energy.
These illustrious ones, being the greatest, were the first to take
Yin’s attention, but beyond them he beheld an innumerable concourse of
Emperors who not infrequently outshone their majestic predecessors in
the richness of their apparel and the magnificence of the jewels which
they wore. There Yin perceived Hung-Hoang, who first caused the chants
to be collected, and other rulers of the Tcheon dynasty; Yong-Tching,
who compiled the Holy Edict; Thang rulers whose line is rightly called
“the golden,” from the unsurpassed excellence of the composed verses
which it produced; renowned Emperors of the versatile Han dynasty; and,
standing apart, and shunned by all, the malignant and narrow-minded
Tsing-Su-Hoang, who caused the Sacred Books to be burned.
Even while Yin looked and wondered, in great fear, a rolling voice,
coming from one who sat in the midst of all, holding in his right hand
the sun, and in his left the moon, sounded forth, like the music of many
brass instruments playing in unison. It was the First Man who spoke.
“Yin, son of Yat Huang, and creature of the Lower Part,” he said,
“listen well to the words I speak, for brief is the span of your
tarrying in the Upper Air, nor will the utterance I now give forth ever
come unto your ears again, either on the earth, or when, blindly groping
in the Middle Distance, your spirit takes its nightly flight. They who
are gathered around, and whose voices I speak, bid me say this: Although
immeasurably above you in all matters, both of knowledge and of power,
yet we greet you as one who is well-intentioned, and inspired with
honourable ambition. Had you been content to entreat and despair, as did
all the feeble and incapable ones whose white bones formed your pathway,
your ultimate fate would have in no wise differed from theirs. But
inasmuch as you held yourself valiantly, and, being taken, raised an
instinctive hand in return, you have been chosen; for the day to mute
submission has, for the time or for ever, passed away, and the hour is
when China shall be saved, not by supplication, but by the spear.”
“A state of things which would have been highly unnecessary if I had
been permitted to carry out my intention fully, and restore man to his
prehistoric simplicity,” interrupted Tsin-Su-Hoang. “For that reason,
when the voice of the assemblage expresses itself, it must be understood
that it represents in no measure the views of Tsin-Su-Hoang.”
“In the matter of what has gone before, and that which will follow
hereafter,” continued the Voice dispassionately, “Yin, the son
of Yat-Huang, must concede that it is in no part the utterance of
Tsin-Su-Hoang--Tsin-Su-Hoang who burned the Sacred Books.”
At the mention of the name and offence of this degraded being a great
sound went up from the entire multitude--a universal cry of execration,
not greatly dissimilar from that which may be frequently heard in the
crowded Temple of Impartiality when the one whose duty it is to take up,
at a venture, the folded papers, announces that the sublime Emperor,
or some mandarin of exalted rank, has been so fortunate as to hold
the winning number in the Annual State Lottery. So vengeance-laden and
mournful was the combined and evidently preconcerted wail, that Yin
was compelled to shield his ears against it; yet the inconsiderable
Tsin-Su-Hoang, on whose account it was raised, seemed in no degree to
be affected by it, he, doubtless, having become hardened by hearing
a similar outburst, at fixed hours, throughout interminable cycles of
time.
When the last echo of the cry had passed away the Voice continued to
speak.
“Soon the earth will again receive you, Yin,” it said, “for it is not
respectful that a lower one should be long permitted to gaze upon our
exalted faces. Yet when you go forth and stand once more among men this
is laid on you: that henceforth you are as a being devoted to a fixed
and unchanging end, and whatever moves towards the restoring of the
throne of the Central Empire the outcast but unalterably sacred line of
its true sovereigns shall have your arm and mind. By what combination
of force and stratagem this can be accomplished may not be honourably
revealed by us, the all-knowing. Nevertheless, omens and guidance shall
not be lacking from time to time, and from the beginning the weapon by
which you have attained to this distinction shall be as a sign of our
favour and protection over you.”
When the Voice made an end of speaking the sudden blindness came upon
Yin, as it had done before, and from the sense of motion which he
experienced, he conjectured that he was being conveyed back to the
island. Undoubtedly this was the case, for presently there came upon him
the feeling that he was awakening from a deep and refreshing sleep,
and opening his eyes, which he now found himself able to do without
any difficulty, he immediately discovered that he was reclining at full
length on the ground, and at a distance of about a score of paces from
the dragon head. His first thought was to engage in a lengthy course
of self-abasement before it, but remembering the words which had been
spoken to him while in the Upper Air, he refrained, and even ventured to
go forward with a confident but somewhat self-deprecatory air, to
regain the spear, which he perceived lying at the foot of the rock. With
feelings of a reassuring nature he then saw that the very undesirable
expression which he had last beheld upon the dragon face had melted into
one of encouraging urbanity and benignant esteem.
Close by the place where he had landed he discovered his boat, newly
furnished with wine and food of a much more attractive profusion than
that which he had purchased in the village. Embarking in it, he made as
though he would have returned to the south, but the spear which he held
turned within his grasp, and pointed in an exactly opposite direction.
Regarding this fact as an express command on the part of the Deities,
Yin turned his boat to the north, and in the space of two days’
time--being continually guided by the fixed indication of the spear--he
reached the shore and prepared to continue his travels in the same
direction, upheld and inspired by the knowledge that henceforth he moved
under the direct influence of very powerful spirits.
IX.
THE ILL-REGULATED DESTINY OF KIN YEN, THE PICTURE-MAKER
As recorded by himself before his sudden departure from Peking,
owing to circumstances which are made plain in the following
narrative.
There are moments in the life of a person when the saying of the wise
Ni-Hyu that “Misfortune comes to all men and to most women” is endowed
with double force. At such times the faithful child of the Sun is a prey
to the whitest and most funereal thoughts, and even the inspired
wisdom of his illustrious ancestors seems more than doubtful, while the
continued inactivity of the Sacred Dragon appears for the time to give
colour to the scoffs of the Western barbarian. A little while ago these
misgivings would have found no resting-place in the bosom of the writer.
Now, however--but the matter must be made clear from the beginning.
The name of the despicable person who here sets forth his immature story
is Kin Yen, and he is a native of Kia-Lu in the Province of Che-Kiang.
Having purchased from a very aged man the position of Hereditary
Instructor in the Art of Drawing Birds and Flowers, he gave lessons in
these accomplishments until he had saved sufficient money to journey
to Peking. Here it was his presumptuous intention to learn the art of
drawing figures in order that he might illustrate printed leaves of
a more distinguished class than those which would accept what true
politeness compels him to call his exceedingly unsymmetrical pictures
of birds and flowers. Accordingly, when the time arrived, he disposed of
his Hereditary Instructorship, having first ascertained in the interests
of his pupils that his successor was a person of refined morals and
great filial piety.
Alas! it is well written, “The road to eminence lies through the cheap
and exceedingly uninviting eating-houses.” In spite of this person’s
great economy, and of his having begged his way from Kia-Lu to Peking in
the guise of a pilgrim, journeying to burn incense in the sacred Temple
of Truth near that city, when once within the latter place his taels
melted away like the smile of a person of low class when he discovers
that the mandarin’s stern words were not intended as a jest. Moreover,
he found that the story-makers of Peking, receiving higher rewards
than those at Kia-Lu, considered themselves bound to introduce living
characters into all their tales, and in consequence the very ornamental
drawings of birds and flowers which he had entwined into a legend
entitled “The Last Fight of the Heaven-sent Tcheng”--a story which
had been entrusted to him for illustration as a test of his skill--was
returned to him with a communication in which the writer revealed his
real meaning by stating contrary facts. It therefore became necessary
that he should become competent in the art of drawing figures without
delay, and with this object he called at the picture-room of Tieng Lin,
a person whose experience was so great that he could, without discomfort
to himself, draw men and women of all classes, both good and bad. When
the person who is setting forth this narrative revealed to Tieng Lin the
utmost amount of money he could afford to give for instruction in the
art of drawing living figures, Tieng Lin’s face became as overcast as
the sky immediately before the Great Rains, for in his ignorance of
this incapable person’s poverty he had treated him with equality and
courtesy, nor had he kept him waiting in the mean room on the plea that
he was at that moment closeted with the Sacred Emperor. However, upon
receiving an assurance that a rumour would be spread in which the number
of taels should be multiplied by ten, and that the sum itself should be
brought in advance, Tieng Lin promised to instruct this person in the
art of drawing five characters, which, he said, would be sufficient
to illustrate all stories except those by the most expensive and
highly-rewarded story-tellers--men who have become so proficient that
they not infrequently introduce a score or more of living persons into
their tales without confusion.
After considerable deliberation, this unassuming person selected the
following characters, judging them to be the most useful, and the most
readily applicable to all phases and situations of life:
1. A bad person, wearing a long dark pigtail and smoking an opium pipe.
His arms to be folded, and his clothes new and very expensive.
2. A woman of low class. One who removes dust and useless things from
the rooms of the over-fastidious and of those who have long nails; she
to be carrying her trade-signs.
3. A person from Pe-ling, endowed with qualities which cause the
beholder to be amused. This character to be especially designed to go
with the short sayings which remove gravity.
4. One who, having incurred the displeasure of the sublime Emperor, has
been decapitated in consequence.
5. An ordinary person of no striking or distinguished appearance. One
who can be safely introduced in all places and circumstances without
great fear of detection.
After many months spent in constant practice and in taking measurements,
this unenviable person attained a very high degree of proficiency, and
could draw any of the five characters without hesitation. With renewed
hope, therefore, he again approached those who sit in easy-chairs, and
concealing his identity (for they are stiff at bending, and when once
a picture-maker is classed as “of no good” he remains so to the end, in
spite of change), he succeeded in getting entrusted with a story by
the elegant and refined Kyen Tal. This writer, as he remembered with
distrust, confines his distinguished efforts entirely to the doings of
sailors and of those connected with the sea, and this tale, indeed, he
found upon reading to be the narrative of how a Hang-Chow junk and its
crew, consisting mostly of aged persons, were beguiled out of their
course by an exceedingly ill-disposed dragon, and wrecked upon an island
of naked barbarians. It was, therefore, with a somewhat heavy stomach
that this person set himself the task of arranging his five characters
as so to illustrate the words of the story.
The sayings of the ancient philosopher Tai Loo are indeed very subtle,
and the truth of his remark, “After being disturbed in one’s dignity by
a mandarin’s foot it is no unusual occurrence to fall flat on the
face in crossing a muddy street,” was now apparent. Great as was the
disadvantage owing to the nature of the five characters, this became as
nothing when it presently appeared that the avaricious and clay-souled
Tieng Lin, taking advantage of the blindness of this person’s
enthusiasm, had taught him the figures so that they all gazed in the
same direction. In consequence of this it would have been impossible
that two should be placed as in the act of conversing together had not
the noble Kyen Tal been inspired to write that “his companions turned
from him in horror.” This incident the ingenious person who is recording
these facts made the subject of three separate drawings, and having
in one or two other places effected skilful changes in the writing, so
similar in style to the strokes of the illustrious Kyen Tal as to
be undetectable, he found little difficulty in making use of all his
characters. The risks of the future, however, were too great to be run
with impunity; therefore it was arranged, by means of money--for this
person was fast becoming acquainted with the ways of Peking--that an
emissary from one who sat in an easy-chair should call upon him for a
conference, the narrative of which appeared in this form in the _Peking
Printed Leaves of Thrice-distilled Truth:_
The brilliant and amiable young picture-maker Kin Yen, in spite of
the immediate and universal success of his accomplished efforts,
is still quite rotund in intellect, nor is he, if we may use a
form of speaking affected by our friends across the Hoang Hai,
“suffering from swollen feet.” A person with no recognized
position, but one who occasionally does inferior work of this
nature for us, recently surprised Kin Yen without warning, and
found him in his sumptuously appointed picture-room, busy with
compasses and tracing-paper. About the place were scattered in
elegant confusion several of his recent masterpieces. From the
subsequent conversation we are in a position to make it known that
in future this refined and versatile person will confine himself
entirely to illustrations of processions, funerals, armies on the
march, persons pursued by others, and kindred subjects which
appeal strongly to his imagination. Kin Yen has severe emotions on
the subject of individuality in art, and does not hesitate to
express himself forcibly with reference to those who are content
to degrade the names of their ancestors by turning out what he
wittily describes as “so much of varied mediocrity.”
The prominence obtained by this pleasantly-composed notice--for it was
copied by others who were unaware of the circumstance of its origin--had
the desired effect. In future, when one of those who sit in easy-chairs
wished for a picture after the kind mentioned, he would say to his
lesser one: “Oh, send to the graceful and versatile Kin Yen; he becomes
inspired on the subject of funerals,” or persons escaping from prison,
or families walking to the temple, or whatever it might be. In that way
this narrow-minded and illiterate person was soon both looked at and
rich, so that it was his daily practice to be carried, in silk garments,
past the houses of those who had known him in poverty, and on these
occasions he would puff out his cheeks and pull his moustaches, looking
fiercely from side to side.
True are the words written in the elegant and distinguished Book of
Verses: “Beware lest when being kissed by the all-seeing Emperor, you
step upon the elusive banana-peel.” It was at the height of eminence in
this altogether degraded person’s career that he encountered the being
who led him on to his present altogether too lamentable condition.
Tien Nung is the earthly name by which is known she who combines all the
most illustrious attributes which have been possessed of women since the
days of the divine Fou-Hy. Her father is a person of very gross habits,
and lives by selling inferior merchandise covered with some of good
quality. Upon past occasions, when under the direct influence of Tien,
and in the hope of gaining some money benefit, this person may have
spoken of him in terms of praise, and may even have recommended friends
to entrust articles of value to him, or to procure goods on his advice.
Now, however, he records it as his unalterable decision that the father
of Tien Nung is by profession a person who obtains goods by stratagem,
and that, moreover, it is impossible to gain an advantage over him on
matters of exchange.
The events that have happened prove the deep wisdom of Li Pen when
he exclaimed “The whitest of pigeons, no matter how excellent in the
silk-hung chamber, is not to be followed on the field of battle.” Tien
herself was all that the most exacting of persons could demand, but
her opinions on the subject of picture-making were not formed by heavy
thought, and it would have been well if this had been borne in mind by
this person. One morning he chanced to meet her while carrying open in
his hands four sets of printed leaves containing his pictures.
“I have observed,” said Tien, after the usual personal inquiries had
been exchanged, “that the renowned Kin Yen, who is the object of the
keenest envy among his brother picture-makers, so little regards the
sacredness of his accomplished art that never by any chance does he
depict persons of the very highest excellence. Let not the words of an
impetuous maiden disarrange his digestive organs if they should seem
too bold to the high-souled Kin Yen, but this matter has, since she has
known him, troubled the eyelids of Tien. Here,” she continued, taking
from this person’s hand one of the printed leaves which he was carrying,
“in this illustration of persons returning from extinguishing a fire,
is there one who appears to possess those qualities which appeal to
all that is intellectual and competitive within one? Can it be that the
immaculate Kin Yen is unacquainted with the subtle distinction between
the really select and the vastly ordinary? Ah, undiscriminating Kin Yen!
are not the eyelashes of the person who is addressing you as threads
of fine gold to junk’s cables when compared with those of the extremely
commonplace female who is here pictured in the art of carrying a bucket?
Can the most refined lack of vanity hide from you the fact that your own
person is infinitely rounder than this of the evilly-intentioned-looking
individual with the opium pipe? O blind Kin Yen!”
Here she fled in honourable confusion, leaving this person standing in
the street, astounded, and a prey to the most distinguished emotions of
a complicated nature.
“Oh, Tien,” he cried at length, “inspired by those bright eyes, narrower
than the most select of the three thousand and one possessed by the
sublime Buddha, the almost fallen Kin Yen will yet prove himself worthy
of your esteemed consideration. He will, without delay, learn to draw
two new living persons, and will incorporate in them the likenesses
which you have suggested.”
Returning swiftly to his abode, he therefore inscribed and despatched
this letter, in proof of his resolve:
“To the Heaven-sent human chrysanthemum, in whose body reside the
Celestial Principles and the imprisoned colours of the rainbow.
“From the very offensive and self-opinionated picture-maker.
“Henceforth this person will take no rest, nor eat any but the commonest
food, until he shall have carried out the wishes of his one Jade Star,
she whose teeth he is not worthy to blacken.
“When Kin Yen has been entrusted with a story which contains a being in
some degree reflecting the character of Tien, he will embellish it with
her irreproachable profile and come to hear her words. Till then he bids
her farewell.”
From that moment most of this person’s time was necessarily spent in
learning to draw the two new characters, and in consequence of this he
lost much work, and, indeed, the greater part of the connexion which
he had been at such pains to form gradually slipped away from him. Many
months passed before he was competent to reproduce persons resembling
Tien and himself, for in this he was unassisted by Tieng Lin, and his
progress was slow.
At length, being satisfied, he called upon the least fierce of those
who sit in easy-chairs, and requested that he might be entrusted with a
story for picture-making.
“We should have been covered with honourable joy to set in operation
the brush of the inspired Kin Yen,” replied the other with agreeable
condescension; “only at the moment, it does not chance that we have
before us any stories in which funerals, or beggars being driven from
the city, form the chief incidents. Perhaps if the polished Kin Yen
should happen to be passing this ill-constructed office in about six
months’ time--”
“The brush of Kin Yen will never again depict funerals, or labourers
arranging themselves to receive pay or similar subjects,” exclaimed this
person impetuously, “for, as it is well said, ‘The lightning discovers
objects which the paper-lantern fails to reveal.’ In future none
but tales dealing with the most distinguished persons shall have his
attention.”
“If this be the true word of the dignified Kin Yen, it is possible that
we may be able to animate his inspired faculties,” was the response.
“But in that case, as a new style must be in the nature of an
experiment, and as our public has come to regard Kin Yen as the
great exponent of Art Facing in One Direction, we cannot continue the
exceedingly liberal payment with which we have been accustomed to reward
his elegant exertions.”
“Provided the story be suitable, that is a matter of less importance,”
replied this person.
“The story,” said the one in the easy-chair, “is by the refined
Tong-king, and it treats of the high-minded and conscientious doubts
of one who would become a priest of Fo. When preparing for this
distinguished office he discovers within himself leanings towards
the religion of Lao-Tse. His illustrious scruples are enhanced by his
affection for Wu Ping, who now appears in the story.”
“And the ending?” inquired this person, for it was desirable that the
two should marry happily.
“The inimitable stories of Tong-king never have any real ending, and
this one, being in his most elevated style, has even less end than
most of them. But the whole narrative is permeated with the odour of
joss-sticks and honourable high-mindedness, and the two characters are
both of noble birth.”
As it might be some time before another story so suitable should be
offered, or one which would afford so good an opportunity of wafting
incense to Tien, and of displaying her incomparable outline in dignified
and magnanimous attitudes, this was eagerly accepted, and for the next
week this obscure person spent all his days and nights in picturing the
lovely Tien and his debased self in the characters of the nobly-born
young priest of Fo and Wu Ping. The pictures finished, he caused them to
be carefully conveyed to the office, and then, sitting down, spent
many hours in composing the following letter, to be sent to Tien,
accompanying a copy of the printed leaves wherein the story and his
drawing should appear:
“When the light has for a period been hidden from a person, it is
no uncommon thing for him to be struck blind on gazing at the sun;
therefore, if the sublime Tien values the eyes of Kin Yen, let her hide
herself behind a gauze screen on his approach.
“The trembling words of Tien have sunk deep into the inside of Kin Yen
and become part of his being. Never again can he depict persons of the
quality and in the position he was wont to do.
“With this he sends his latest efforts. In each case he conceives his
drawings to be the pictures of the written words; in the noble Tien’s
case it is undoubtedly so, in his own he aspires to it. Doubtless the
unobtrusive Tien would make no claim to the character and manner of
behaving of the one in the story, yet Kin Yen confidently asserts that
she is to the other as the glove is to the hand, and he is filled with
the most intelligent delight at being able to exhibit her in her true
robes, by which she will be known to all who see her, in spite of her
dignified protests. Kin Yen hopes; he will come this evening after
sunset.”
The week which passed between the finishing of the pictures and the
appearance of the eminent printed leaves containing them was the longest
in this near-sighted person’s ill-spent life. But at length the day
arrived, and going with exceedingly mean haste to the place of sale, he
purchased a copy and sent it, together with the letter of his honourable
intention, on which he had bestowed so much care, to Tien.
Not till then did it occur to this inconsiderable one that the
impetuousness of his action was ill-judged; for might it not be that the
pictures were evilly-printed, or that the delicate and fragrant words
painting the character of the one who now bore the features of Tien had
undergone some change?
To satisfy himself, scarce as taels had become with him, he purchased
another copy.
There are many exalted sayings of the wise and venerable Confucious
constructed so as to be of service and consolation in moments of strong
mental distress. These for the greater part recommend tranquillity
of mind, a complete abnegation of the human passions and the
like behaviour. The person who is here endeavouring to bring this
badly-constructed account of his dishonourable career to a close
pondered these for some moments after twice glancing through the matter
in the printed leaves, and then, finding the faculties of speech and
movement restored to him, procured a two-edged knife of distinguished
brilliance and went forth to call upon the one who sits in an
easy-chair.
“Behold,” said the lesser one, insidiously stepping in between this
person an the inner door, “my intellectual and all-knowing chief is not
here to-day. May his entirely insufficient substitute offer words of
congratulation to the inspired Kin Yen on his effective and striking
pictures in this week’s issue?”
“His altogether insufficient substitute,” answered this person, with
difficulty mastering his great rage, “may and shall offer words of
explanation to the inspired Kin Yen, setting forth the reason of his
pictures being used, not with the high-minded story of the elegant
Tong-king for which they were executed, but accompanying exceedingly
base, foolish, and ungrammatical words written by Klan-hi, the Peking
remover of gravity--words which will evermore brand the dew-like Tien
as a person of light speech and no refinement”; and in his agony this
person struck the lacquered table several times with his elegant knife.
“O Kin Yen,” exclaimed the lesser one, “this matter rests not here. It
is a thing beyond the sphere of the individual who is addressing you.
All he can tell is that the graceful Tong-king withdrew his exceedingly
tedious story for some reason at the final moment, and as your eminent
drawings had been paid for, my chief of the inner office decided to use
them with this story of Klan-hi. But surely it cannot be that there is
aught in the story to displease your illustrious personality?”
“Judge for yourself,” this person said, “first understanding that the
two immaculate characters figuring as the personages of the narrative
are exact copies of this dishonoured person himself and of the willowy
Tien, daughter of the vastly rich Pe-li-Chen, whom he was hopeful of
marrying.”
Selecting one of the least offensive of the passages in the work, this
unhappy person read the following immature and inelegant words:
“This well-satisfied writer of printed leaves had a highly-distinguished
time last night. After Chow had departed to see about food, and the junk
had been fastened up at the lock of Kilung, on the Yang-tse-Kiang, he
and the round-bodied Shang were journeying along the narrow path by the
river-side when the right leg of the graceful and popular person who
is narrating these events disappeared into the river. Suffering no
apprehension in the dark, but that the vanishing limb was the left leg
of Shang, this intelligent writer allowed his impassiveness to melt away
to an exaggerated degree; but at that moment the circumstance became
plain to the round-bodied Shang, who was in consequence very grossly
amused at the mishap and misapprehension of your good lord, the writer,
at the same time pointing out the matter as it really was. Then it
chanced that there came by one of the maidens who carry tea and jest for
small sums of money to the sitters at the little tables with round white
tops, at which this remarkable person, the confidant of many mandarins,
ever desirous of displaying his priceless power of removing gravity,
said to her:
“‘How much of gladness, Ning-Ning? By the Sacred Serpent this is plainly
your night out.’
“Perceiving the true facts of the predicament of this commendable
writer, she replied:
“‘Suffer not your illustrious pigtail to be removed, venerable Wang; for
in this maiden’s estimation it is indeed your night in.’
“There are times when this valued person wonders whether his method
of removing gravity be in reality very antique or quite new. On such
occasions the world, with all its schools, and those who interfere in
the concerns of others, continues to revolve around him. The wondrous
sky-lanterns come out silently two by two like to the crystallized music
of stringed woods. Then, in the mystery of no-noise, his head becomes
greatly enlarged with celestial and highly-profound thoughts; his
groping hand seems to touch matter which may be written out in his
impressive style and sold to those who print leaves, and he goes home to
write out such.”
When this person looked up after reading, with tears of shame in his
eyes, he perceived that the lesser one had cautiously disappeared.
Therefore, being unable to gain admittance to the inner office, he
returned to his home.
Here the remark of the omniscient Tai Loo again fixes itself upon the
attention. No sooner had this incapable person reached his house than he
became aware that a parcel had arrived for him from the still adorable
Tien. Retiring to a distance from it, he opened the accompanying letter
and read:
“When a virtuous maiden has been made the victim of a heartless jest or
a piece of coarse stupidity at a person’s hands, it is no uncommon thing
for him to be struck blind on meeting her father. Therefore, if the
degraded and evil-minded Kin Yen values his eyes, ears, nose, pigtail,
even his dishonourable breath, let him hide himself behind a fortified
wall at Pe-li-Chen’s approach.
“With this Tien returns everything she has ever accepted from Kin Yen.
She even includes the brace of puppies which she received anonymously
about a month ago, and which she did not eat, but kept for reasons of
her own--reasons entirely unconnected with the vapid and exceedingly
conceited Kin Yen.”
As though this letter, and the puppies of which this person now heard
for the first time, making him aware of the existence of a rival lover,
were not enough, there almost immediately arrived a letter from Tien’s
father:
“This person has taken the advice of those skilled in extorting money by
means of law forms, and he finds that Kin Yen has been guilty of a grave
and highly expensive act. This is increased by the fact that Tien had
conveyed his seemingly distinguished intentions to all her friends,
before whom she now stands in an exceedingly ungraceful attitude. The
machinery for depriving Kin Yen of all the necessaries of existence
shall be put into operation at once.”
At this point, the person who is now concluding his obscure and
commonplace history, having spent his last piece of money on joss-sticks
and incense-paper, and being convinced of the presence of the spirits of
his ancestors, is inspired to make the following prophecies: That Tieng
Lin, who imposed upon him in the matter of picture-making, shall come
to a sudden end, accompanied by great internal pains, after suffering
extreme poverty; that the one who sits in an easy-chair, together with
his lesser one and all who make stories for them, shall, while sailing
to a rice feast during the Festival of Flowers, be precipitated into the
water and slowly devoured by sea monsters, Klan-hi in particular being
tortured in the process; that Pel-li-Chen, the father of Tien, shall
be seized with the dancing sickness when in the presence of the august
Emperor, and being in consequence suspected of treachery, shall, to
prove the truth of his denials, be submitted to the tests of boiling
tar, red-hot swords, and of being dropped from a great height on to the
Sacred Stone of Goodness and Badness, in each of which he shall fail to
convince his judges or to establish his innocence, to the amusement of
all beholders.
These are the true words of Kin Yen, the picture-maker, who, having
unweighed his mind and exposed the avaricious villainy of certain
persons, is now retiring by night to a very select and hidden spot in
the Khingan Mountains.