In the early years of the reign of the great Emperor Kam-hi a
mandarin of the city of Canton heard from his house a great noise,
which proceeded from the next house. He inquired if anybody was
being killed, and was told that the almoner of the Danish missionary
society, a chaplain from Batavia, and a Jesuit were disputing. He had
them brought to his house, put tea and sweets before them, and asked
why they quarrelled.
The Jesuit replied that it was very painful for him, since he was
always right, to have to do with men who were always wrong; that he
had at first argued with the greatest restraint, but had at length
lost patience.
The mandarin, with the utmost discretion, reminded them that
politeness was needed in all discussion, told them that in China men
never became angry, and asked the cause of the dispute.
The Jesuit answered: “My lord, I leave it to you to decide. These two
gentlemen refuse to submit to the decrees of the Council of Trent.”
“I am astonished,” said the mandarin. Then, turning to the
refractory pair, he said: “Gentlemen, you ought to respect the
opinions of a large gathering. I do not know what the Council of
Trent is, but a number of men are always better informed than a
single one. No one ought to imagine that he is better than others,
and has a monopoly of reason. So our great Confucius teaches; and,
believe me, you will do well to submit to the Council of Trent.”
The Dane then spoke. “My lord speaks with the greatest wisdom,” he
said; “we respect great councils, as is proper, and therefore we are
in entire agreement with several that were held before the Council of
Trent.”
“Oh, if that is the case,” said the mandarin, “I beg your pardon.
You may be right. So you and this Dutchman are of the same opinion,
against this poor Jesuit.”
“Not a bit,” said the Dutchman. “This fellow’s opinions are almost
as extravagant as those of the Jesuit yonder, who has been so very
amiable to you. I can’t bear them.”
“I don’t understand,” said the mandarin. “Are you not all three
Christians? Have you not all three come to teach Christianity in our
empire? Ought you not, therefore, to hold the same dogmas?”
“It is this way, my lord,” said the Jesuit; “these two are mortal
enemies, and are both against me. Hence it is clear that they are
both wrong, and I am right.”
“That is not quite clear,” said the mandarin; “strictly speaking, all
three of you may be wrong. I should like to hear you all, one after
the other.”
The Jesuit then made a rather long speech, during which the Dane
and the Dutchman shrugged their shoulders. The mandarin did not
understand a word of it. Then the Dane spoke; the two opponents
regarded each other with pity, and the mandarin again failed to
understand. The Dutchman had the same effect. In the end they all
spoke together and abused each other roundly. The good mandarin
secured silence with great difficulty, and said: “If you want us
to tolerate your teaching here, begin by being yourselves neither
intolerant nor intolerable.”
When they went out the Jesuit met a Dominican friar, and told him
that he had won, adding that truth always triumphed. The Dominican
said: “Had I been there, you would not have won; I should have
convicted you of lying and idolatry.” The quarrel became warm, and
the Jesuit and Dominican took to pulling each other’s hair. The
mandarin, on hearing of the scandal, sent them both to prison. A
sub-mandarin said to the judge: “How long does your excellency wish
them to be kept in prison?” “Until they agree,” said the judge.
“Then,” said the sub-mandarin, “they are in prison for life.” “In
that case,” said the judge, “until they forgive each other.” “They
will never forgive each other,” said the other; “I know them.”
“Then,” said the mandarin, “let them stop there until they pretend to
forgive each other.”