CHAPTER X--MINGS AND CH'INGS, 1368-1911

The first half of the fourteenth century, which witnessed the gradual

decline of Mongol influence and power, was further marked by the birth

of a humble individual destined to achieve a new departure in the

history of the empire. At the age of seventeen, Chu Yuan-chang lost both

his parents and an elder brother. It was a year of famine, and they died

from want of food. He had no money to buy coffins, and was forced to

bury them in straw. He then, as a last resource, decided to enter the

Buddhist priesthood, and accordingly enrolled himself as a novice; but

together with the other novices, he was soon dismissed, the priests

being unable to provide even for their own wants. After this he wandered

about, and finally joined a party of rebels commanded by one of his own

uncles. Rapidly rising to the highest military rank, he gradually found

himself at the head of a huge army, and by 1368 was master of so many

provinces that he proclaimed himself first emperor of the Great Ming

dynasty, under the title of Hung (_Hoong_) Wu, and fixed his capital

at Nanking. In addition to his military genius, he showed almost equal

skill in the administration of the empire, and also became a liberal

patron of literature and education. He organized the present system of

examinations, now in a transition state; restored the native Chinese

style of dress as worn under the T'ang dynasty, which is still the

costume seen on the stage; published a Penal Code of mitigated severity;

drew up a kind of Domesday Book under which taxation was regulated;

and fixed the coinage upon a proper basis, government notes and copper

_cash_ being equally current. Eunuchs were prohibited from holding

official posts, and Buddhism and Taoism were both made state religions.

This truly great monarch died in 1398, and was succeeded by a grandson,

whose very receding forehead had been a source of much annoyance to his

grandfather, though the boy grew up clever and could make good verses.

The first act of this new emperor was to dispossess his uncles of

various important posts held by them; but this was not tolerated by one

of them, who had already made himself conspicuous by his talents, and

he promptly threw off his allegiance. In the war which ensued, victory

attended his arms throughout, and at length he entered Nanking, the

capital, in triumph. And now begins one of those romantic episodes which

from time to time lend an unusual interest to the dry bones of Chinese

history. In the confusion which followed upon the entry of troops into

his palace, the young and defeated emperor vanished, and was never seen

again; although in after years pretenders started up on more than one

occasion, and obtained the support of many in their efforts to recover

the throne. It is supposed that the fugitive made his way to the distant

province of Yunnan in the garb of a Buddhist priest, left to him, so the

story runs, by his grandfather. After nearly forty years of wandering,

he is said to have gone to Peking and to have lived in seclusion in the

palace there until his death. He was recognized by a eunuch from a mole

on his left foot, but the eunuch was afraid to reveal his identity.

The victorious uncle mounted the throne in the year 1403, under the now

famous title of Yung Lo (_Yoong Law_), and soon showed that he could

govern as well as he could fight. He brought immigrants from populous

provinces to repeople the districts which had been laid waste by war.

Peking was built, and in 1421 the seat of government was transferred

thither, where it has remained ever since. A new Penal Code was drawn

up. Various military expeditions were despatched against the Tartars,

and missions under the charge of eunuchs were sent to Java, Sumatra,

Siam, and even reached Ceylon and the Red Sea. The day of doubt in

regard to the general accuracy of Chinese annals has gone by; were it

otherwise, a recent (1911) discovery in Ceylon would tend to dispel

suspicion on one point. A tablet has just been unearthed at Galle,

bearing an inscription in Arabic, Chinese and Tamil. The Arabic is

beyond decipherment, but enough is left of the Chinese to show that the

tablet was erected in 1409 to commemorate a visit by the eunuch Cheng

Ho, who passed several times backwards and forwards over that route. In

1411 the same eunuch was sent as envoy to Japan, and narrowly escaped

with his life.

The emperor was a warm patron of literature, and succeeded in bringing

about the achievement of the most gigantic literary task that the

world has ever seen. He employed a huge staff of scholars to compile an

encyclopaedia which should contain within the compass of a single

work all that had ever been written in the four departments of (1)

the Confucian Canon, (2) history, (3) philosophy, and (4) general

literature, including astronomy, geography, cosmogony, medicine,

divination, Buddhism, Taoism, handicrafts and arts. The completed work,

over which a small army of scholars--more than two thousand in all--had

spent five years, ran to no fewer than 22,877 sections, to which must

be added an index occupying 60 sections. The whole was bound up (Chinese

style) in 11,000 volumes, averaging over half-an-inch in thickness, and

measuring one foot eight inches in length by one foot in breadth. Thus,

if all these were laid flat one upon another, the column so formed would

rise considerably higher than the very top of St. Paul's. Further, each

section contains about twenty leaves, making a total of 917,480 pages

for the whole work, with a grand total of 366,000,000 words. Taking

100 Chinese words as the equivalent of 130 English, due to the greater

condensation of Chinese literary style, it will be found that even the

mighty river of the _Encyclopedia Britannica_ "shrinks to a rill" when

compared with this overwhelming specimen of Chinese industry.

It was never printed; even a Chinese emperor, and enthusiastic patron of

literature to boot, recoiled before the enormous cost of cutting such

a work on blocks. It was however transcribed for printing, and there

appear to have been at one time three copies in existence. Two of these

perished at Nanking with the downfall of the dynasty in 1644, and the

third was in great part destroyed in Peking during the siege of the

Legations in 1900. Odd volumes have been preserved, and bear ample

witness to the extraordinary character of the achievement.

This emperor was an ardent Buddhist, and the priests of that religion

were raised to high positions and exerted considerable influence at

court. In times of famine there were loud complaints that some ten

thousand priests were living comfortably at Peking, while the people of

several provinces were reduced to eating bark and grass.

The porcelain of the Ming dynasty is famous all over the world. Early in

the sixteenth century a great impetus was given to the art, owing to

the extravagant patronage of the court, which was not allowed to pass

without openly expressed remonstrance. The practice of the pictorial

art was very widely extended, and the list of Ming painters is endless,

containing as it does over twelve hundred names, some few of which stand

for a high level of success.

Towards the close of the sixteenth century the Portuguese appeared upon

the scene, and settled themselves at Macao, the ownership of which has

been a bone of contention between China and Portugal ever since. It is

a delightful spot, with an excellent climate, not very far from Canton,

and was for some time the residence of the renowned poet Camoens. Not

far from Macao lies the island of Sancian, where St. Francois Xavier

died. He was the first Roman Catholic missionary of more modern times

to China, but he never set foot on the mainland. Native maps mark the

existence of "Saint's Grave" upon the island, though he was actually

buried at Goa. There had previously been a Roman Catholic bishop in

Peking so far back as the thirteenth century, from which date it seems

likely that Catholic converts have had a continuous footing in the

empire.

In 1583, Matteo Ricci, the most famous of all missionaries who have

ever reached China, came upon the scene at Canton, and finally, in

1601, after years of strenuous effort succeeded in installing himself

at Peking, with the warm support of the emperor himself, dying there in

1610. Besides reforming the calendar and teaching geography and science

in general, he made a fierce attack upon Buddhism, at the same time

wisely leaving Confucianism alone. He was the first to become aware

of the presence in China of a Jewish colony, which had been founded

in 1163. It was from his writings that truer notions of Chinese

civilization than had hitherto prevailed, began to spread in the West.

"Mat. Riccius the Jesuite," says Burton in his _Anatomy of Melancholy_

(1651), "and some others, relate of the industry of the Chinaes most

populous countreys, not a beggar, or an idle person to be seen, and how

by that means they prosper and flourish."

In 1625 an important find was made. A large tablet, with a long

inscription in Chinese and a shorter one in Syraic, was discovered in

central China. The inscription, in an excellent state of preservation,

showed that the tablet had been set up in A.D. 781 by Nestorian

missionaries, and gave a general idea of the object and scope of the

Christian religion. The genuineness of this tablet was for many years in

dispute--Voltaire, Renan, and others of lesser fame, regarding it as

a pious fraud--but has now been established beyond any possibility

of doubt; its value indeed is so great that an attempt was made quite

recently to carry it off to America. Nestorian Christianity is mentioned

by Marco Polo, but disappears altogether after the thirteenth century,

without leaving any trace in Chinese literature of its once flourishing

condition.

The last emperor of the Ming dynasty meant well, but succumbed to the

stress of circumstances. Eunuchs and over-taxation brought about the

stereotyped consequence--rebellion; rebellion, too, headed by an able

commander, whose successive victories soon enabled him to assume the

Imperial title. In the capital all was confusion. The treasury was

empty; the garrison were too few to man the walls; and the ministers

were anxious to secure each his own safety. On April 9, 1644, Peking

fell. During the previous night the emperor, who had refused to flee,

slew the eldest princess, commanded the empress to commit suicide, and

sent his three sons into hiding. At dawn the bell was struck for the

court to assemble; but no one came. His Majesty then ascended the Coal

Hill in the palace grounds, and wrote a last decree on the lapel of his

robe: "WE, poor in virtue and of contemptible personality, have incurred

the wrath of God on high. My ministers have deceived me. I am ashamed to

meet my ancestors; and therefore I myself take off my crown, and with my

hair covering my face await dismemberment at the hands of the rebels. Do

not hurt a single one of my people." He then hanged himself, as also did

one faithful eunuch; and his body, together with that of the empress,

was reverently encoffined by the rebels.

So ended the Ming dynasty, of glorious memory, but not in favour of the

rebel commander, who was driven out of Peking by the Manchus and was

ultimately slain by local militia in a distant province.

The subjugation of the empire by the victors, who had the disadvantage

of being an alien race, was effected with comparative ease and rapidity.

It was carried out by a military occupation of the country, which has

survived the original necessity, and is part of the system of government

at the present day. Garrisons of Tartar troops were stationed at various

important centres of population, each under the command of an officer of

the highest military grade, whose duty it was to co-operate with, and

at the same time watch and act as a check upon, the high authorities

employed in the civil administration. Those Tartar garrisons still

occupy the same positions; and the descendants of the first battalions,

with occasional reinforcements from Peking, live side by side and in

perfect harmony with the strictly Chinese populations, though the two

races do not intermarry except in very rare cases. These Bannermen, as

they are called, in reference to eight banners or corps under which they

are marshalled, may be known by their square heavy faces, which contrast

strongly with the sharper and more astute-looking physiognomies of the

Chinese. They speak the dialect of Peking, now regarded as the official

or "mandarin" language, just as the dialect of Nanking was, so long as

that city remained the capital of the empire.

In many respects the conquering Tartars have been themselves conquered

by the people over whom they set themselves to rule. They have adopted

the language, written and colloquial, of China; and they are fully as

proud as the purest-blooded Chinese of the vast literature and glorious

traditions of those past dynasties of which they have made themselves

joint heirs. Manchu, the language of the conquerors, is still kept

alive at Peking. By a fiction, it is supposed to be the language of the

sovereign; but the emperors of China have now in their youth to make a

study of Manchu, and so do the official interpreters and others whose

duty it is to translate from Chinese into Manchu all documents submitted

to what is called the "sacred glance" of His Majesty. In a similar

sense, until quite a recent date, skill in archery was required of every

Bannerman; and it was undoubtedly a great wrench when the once fatally

effective weapon was consigned to an unmerited oblivion. But though

Bannermen can no longer shoot with the bow and arrow, they still

continue to draw monthly allowances from state funds, as an hereditary

right obtained by conquest.

Of the nine emperors of the Manchu, or Great Ch'ing dynasty, who have

already occupied the dragon throne and have become "guests on high," two

are deserving of special mention as fit to be ranked among the wisest

and best rulers the world has ever known. The Emperor K'ang Hsi (_Khahng

Shee_) began his reign in 1662 and continued it for sixty-one years,

a division of time which has been in vogue for many centuries past. He

treated the Jesuit Fathers with kindness and distinction, and

availed himself in many ways of their scientific knowledge. He was an

extraordinarily generous and successful patron of literature. His name

is inseparably connected with the standard dictionary of the Chinese

language, which was produced under his immediate supervision. It

contains over forty thousand words, not a great number as compared with

European languages which have coined innumerable scientific terms,

but even so, far more than are necessary either for daily life or

for literary purposes. These words are accompanied in each case by

appropriate quotations from the works of every age and of every

style, arranged chronologically, thus anticipating to some extent the

"historical principles" in the still more wonderful English dictionary

by Sir James Murray and others, now going through the press. But the

greatest of all the literary achievements planned by this emperor was a

general encyclopaedia, not indeed on quite such a colossal scale as that

one produced under the Ming dynasty and already described, though still

of respectable dimensions, running as it does in a small-sized

edition to 1,628 octavo volumes of about 200 pages to each. The term

encyclopaedia must not be understood in precisely the same sense as in

Western countries. A Chinese encyclopaedia deals with a given subject

not by providing an up-to-date article written by some living

authority, but by exhibiting extracts from authors of all ages, arranged

chronologically, in which the subject in question is discussed. The

range of topics, however, is such that the above does not always

apply--as, for instance, in the biographical section, which consists

merely of lives of eminent men taken from various sources. In the great

encyclopaedia under consideration, in addition to an enormous number of

lives of men, covering a period of three thousand years, there are also

lives of over twenty-four thousand eminent women, or nearly as many as

all the lives in our own _National Dictionary of Biography_. An

original copy of this marvellous production, which by the way is fully

illustrated, may be seen at the British Museum; a small-sized edition,

more suitable for practical purposes and printed from movable type, was

issued about twenty years ago.

Skipping an emperor under whose reign was initiated that violent

persecution of Roman Catholics which has continued more or less openly

down to the present day, we come to the second of the two monarchs

before mentioned, whose long and beneficent reigns are among the real

glories of the present dynasty.

The Emperor Ch'ien Lung (_Loong_) ascended the throne in 1735, when

twenty-five years of age; and though less than two hundred years ago,

legend has been busy with his person. According to some native accounts,

his hands are said to have reached below his knees; his ears touched his

shoulders; and his eyes could see round behind his head. This sort of

stuff, is should be understood, is not taken from reliable authorities.

It cannot be taken from the dynastic history for the simple reason that

the official history of a dynasty is not published until the dynasty

has come to an end. There is, indeed, a faithful record kept of all the

actions of each reigning emperor in turn; good and evil are set down

alike, without fear or favour, for no emperor is ever allowed to get a

glimpse of the document by which posterity will judge him. Ch'ien Lung

had no cause for anxiety on this score; whatever record might leap

to light, he never could be shamed. An able ruler, with an insatiable

thirst for knowledge, and an indefatigable administrator, he rivals

his grandfather's fame as a sovereign and a patron of letters. His one

amiable weakness was a fondness for poetry; unfortunately, for his own.

His output was enormous so far as number of pieces go; these were always

short, and proportionately trivial. No one ever better illustrated one

half of the cynical Chinese saying: "We love our own compositions,

but other men's wives." He disliked missionaries, and forbade the

propagation of the Christian religion.

After ten years of internal reorganization, his reign became a

succession of wars, almost all of which were brought to a successful

conclusion. His generals led a large army into Nepaul and conquered the

Goorkhas, reaching a point only some sixty miles distant from British

territory. Burma was forced to pay tribute; Chinese supremacy was

established in Tibet; Kuldja and Kashgaria were added to the empire; and

rebellions in Formosa and elsewhere were suppressed. In fifty years the

population was nearly doubled, and the empire on the whole enjoyed peace

and prosperity. In 1750 a Portuguese embassy reached Peking; and was

followed by Lord Macartney's famous mission and a Dutch mission in 1793.

Two years after the venerable emperor had completed a reign of sixty

years, the full Chinese cycle; whereupon he abdicated in favour of his

son, and died in 1799.

The Civilization of China · 第 10 / 12 章