ground that these tend to produce a sturdier race than would be
otherwise possible; for the concubines of the wealthier classes are
usually taken from among the stronger working people, whose superior
physical vigor is constantly adding fresh blood to the more delicate
classes. But the moral evils of the system undoubtedly more than
counterbalance any physical advantage that may accrue to society through
its existence.
The birth of an infant works a marked transformation in a Chinese
woman's life. So long as she is childless, she is expected to serve.
When she becomes a mother, she at once takes up the sceptre. Wives,
therefore, pray to their deities for the coming of a son; and when the
object of their hearts' desire is realized, the delighted parents pay
their devotions to the god who has sent the new joy into their lives.
The sway of the woman over all the household, with the exception of her
liege lord and her sons, is complete. The _Shi King_ puts this in poetic
form in describing the bride's entrance upon her new estate:
"Graceful and young the peach-tree stands,
Its foliage clustering green and full,
This bride to her new home repairs,
Her household will attend her rule."
But remember that first she must become a mother. The brightest feature
in the life of Chinese women, the one thing that brings them most
comfort, is their boys. It is these which most surely lift women into a
position of respect. And this is true, even though, according to the
teaching of China's sages, the mother must be subject to her son as well
as to her husband. "The one bright spot in the lives of Chinese women,"
an educated Chinaman has recently said, "is their resignation, their
willingness to endure, to make the best of their circumstances." Indeed,
of the Chinese as a race, this is true, though it is more emphatically
true of the women. Certainly their lot is far harder than that of the
men. From the cradle to the grave, in the view of one from the Occident,
the Chinese woman's way is a dark and cheerless one. Few of the outer
rays of the world's joy penetrate the seclusion of their lives. And
while Chinese girls and women are amply capable of being made the
intellectual and social equals of the opposite sex, the fact is they are
not in any true sense companions of their brothers and husbands.
It is the lack of training that makes the Chinese woman, as a rule,
uncompanionable. There are exceptions, to be sure. In their present lack
of real preparation for the wider sphere of womanly usefulness, it is
doubtless well that the women have no larger freedom. Wherever the
Western school has gone, however, there has been given to the girls of
China an opportunity for a broader outlook upon life through education
and training.
"Of all others," says Confucius, in the _Analects_, "women servants and
men servants are the most difficult people to have the care of. Approach
them in a familiar manner, and they take liberties; keep them at a
distance, and they grumble." These words throw some light, by way of
illustration at least, upon woman's place in China as respects freedom
to mingle with the outside world. The sex probably enjoys as much
liberty as conditions justify. And yet keeping them from the world
without does not tend to develop the most genial temperament; their
faces do not evince cheerfulness or hope.
What is the attitude of a Chinese husband toward his wife? Of course,
she is regarded as his inferior; and, as a rule, she actually is.
Because of the limitations which from infancy have everywhere been
thrown about her life, it could not be otherwise. When the girls must be
married off to get rid of the craving of another mouth; and when wives
are largely looked upon as but a means of rearing children, that these
may do the pious duties in behalf of the ancestral dead, it could not be
expected that the idea of the equality of the sexes should ever be
conceived.
In China, as elsewhere in the broad world, wives are often neglected.
From early Chinese literature, as well as from modern life, expressions
of the wife's sad lament are heard. As one of the poets puts it in the
mouth of a neglected spouse, whose husband comes not to her comfort:
"Cloudy the sky and dark--the thunders roll;
Such outward signs well mark my troubled soul.
I wake, and sleep no more comes to my rest,
His cause I sad deplore, in anguished breast."
Second marriages, though often made are not highly regarded in China.
Naturally love is less likely to spring up as in the earlier
affiliation. The _yengo_, a species of wild goose is, among the Chinese,
the emblem of love between the sexes. This bird especially stands for
strong and undying attachment. For it is said that when once its mate is
dead, it never pairs again. For this reason an image of it is worshipped
by the newly married couples of China. There is a popular saying among
the Chinese that a second husband to a second wife are husband and wife
so long as the poor supply holds out. When this fails the partners fly
apart, and self is the care of each. While it would be entirely unjust
not to recognize the presence of genuine love on the part of many a
husband, yet a wife may be handled severely by her spouse if for any
reason he may think her deserving of such treatment. This is more true
of concubines, whose lot is indeed a hard one. Whenever there is in the
household more than one wife, jealousy, bickering, strife, and plotting
are almost certain. The _Shi King_ sets these forth in a little poem on
the jealousy of a wife:
"When the upper robe is green,
With a yellow lining seen,
There we have a certain token
Right is wronged and order broken."
The Chinese have a saying that it is impossible to be more jealous than
a woman; and in the word for "jealous" there is an intended suggestion
of another word of the same sound, but of different intonation, meaning
"poisonous;" which play upon the word reminds one of the remark of the
Hebrew sage that "jealousy is cruel as the grave."
The wife is not seen upon the streets with her husband. Nor does she, as
a rule, eat with him. After the men of the family have finished their
meals, the women take their turn at the board. Too little is the
sympathy they get in their ailments; for generally scant is the
attention paid to their suffering, and poverty often prevents a
physician's care. Much, too, that goes for healing is hideously cruel
and permeated with the wildest superstition.
It must seem the grimmest irony in one of Goldsmith's Chinese letters
from his _Citizen of the World_, when he makes Lien Chi Altangi, while
writing of his purpose to open a school for young women, say: "In this I
intended to instruct the ladies in all the conjugal mysteries; wives
should be taught the art of managing their husbands, and maids the skill
of properly choosing them; I would teach a wife how far she might
venture to be sick without giving disgust; she should be acquainted with
the great benefits of cholic in the stomach, and all the thoroughbred
insolence of fashion; maids should learn the secret of nicely
distinguishing every competitor; they should be able to know the
difference between a pedlar and a scholar, a citizen and a prig, a
squire and his horse, a beau and his monkey; but chiefly they should be
taught the art of managing their smiles, from the contemptuous simper to
the long laborous laugh."
One of the cornerstones of Confucius's teaching was "reciprocity." But
this doctrine he does not seem to apply to the practical relations of
married life, about which he had little or nothing to say. Suicides of
young wives would be far less frequent in China were this doctrine of
the great lawgiver applied to marital life. A cruel husband may, almost
with perfect impunity, greatly injure his wife, or even kill her,
especially if he can make good a claim before the authorities that she
had been unfilial to _his_ parents.
The Chinese wife is, of course, not free from the evils of divorce. If
she be guilty of such faults as scolding, disobedience, lasciviousness,
or theft, which is next to murder in its heinousness, or if she be the
victim of such misfortune as leprosy or barrenness, she may be sent back
to her parents, if they be still alive. Among the causes for which
divorce is possible, the failure to bear sons is the first. Widows
sometimes remarry. In some parts of China the _suttee_, or
"self-immolation," of widows is not unknown, the unfortunate woman being
compelled to strangle herself, after which her body is burned.
The maternal instincts are seldom stronger than in the attitude toward
the helplessness of infancy; yet, in China infanticide is of
extraordinary prevalence. The greatest danger that besets a Chinese
woman is at her birth. In an already overpopulated country, it is not
strange that the custom of killing the female infant, for whom it is
difficult to provide sustenance, should have gained ground. Besides,
while the congested condition of the population is somewhat relieved by
emigration of the men to other lands, the women do not leave; hence,
there is a tendency toward a surplus of women. It frequently happens
that if a Chinese mother has not yet been blessed with the birth of a
boy, she will destroy her female offspring, with the thought that in
this way she may hope the sooner to bear a son. If, on the other hand,
she has one or more sons, she may allow two or three daughters to live.
After this, many mothers will not hesitate to smother the girls at their
birth. "By the accident of sex," says a recent writer, "the infant is a
family divinity; by the accident of sex, she is a dreaded burden, liable
to be destroyed, and certain to be despised." The Chinese officials have
tried earnestly to break up this frightful custom of infanticide. Books
have been written and circulated condemning the practice. Foundling
hospitals have also been established, in order that this kind of murder
might be checked and the rejected little ones cared for. Stone tablets
have been erected on river banks, by pools, and in places at which the
killing of girls might probably occur, or where their dead bodies are
likely to be deposited. During a period of rebellion, and of dire
poverty, so many desperate mothers throw their babes by the roadside for
the dogs and birds of prey to devour, that "baby towers" were
constructed at certain points, where the tiny dead bodies might be
thrown, to avoid the dangerous offensiveness to the population.
But if in infancy the girl is not killed, she is allowed to live. Should
pinching poverty come, she may be sold or given away. In some districts
baby merchants are not unknown. When the little girls grow up they
become serviceable in numerous ways in the domestic life; but many of
them are sold to a life of shame.
A wise Chinese writer, Hwei Kwo, in discussing infanticide among his
people, says: "Before you drown the infants you ought to think, 'I thus
harshly violate propriety. But there are gods above; how can I deceive
them? My ancestors are beside me; how can I present myself before them?'
Before long the babe will call _kwa, kwa_, and want some nourishment;
before many months she will call _ya yah_, and begin to talk, first
calling _year-niang_ (father, mother), and walk carefully about your
knees. Before many years she will be helping you in all your hard work,
and when she is married and bears a son, how very pleased you will be.
If you get a good son-in-law, and their children are well to do, how
much admiration and glory. 'If I endure present trouble, I may by and by
eat my daughter's rice.'" But even these low and selfish motives are not
sufficient to destroy the prevalence of infanticide, which is more
particularly practised in southern China. It is almost, if not quite,
unknown in the north.
Woman's standing before the law in China would not be regarded as high
in a country where woman's rights have been agitated. Her property
rights are practically _nil_, except as she enjoys them through male
relatives. And yet, with all her limitations, the woman of China is in
some respects in advance of her sisters of many other Oriental lands.
She is not shut up in a harem, as she is in Turkey; she is not bound
down by the harsh caste system, as in India; she is not looked upon as
devoid of spiritual existence, as in Burmah; she is not degraded by the
curse of polyandry, as in Thibet. In no Eastern land, with the exception
of Japan, has woman a better opportunity to exert power and develop
character than in China.
The dress of Chinese women might be thought by women of some other
lands to be lacking in beauty and grace; and yet, it is in many respects
highly sensible, being at least modest, healthful, and economical. It
hides the contour of the person effectually, and this, among the
Chinese, is its chief design. Being loose, it gives full play to the
vital parts, as well as to the limbs, and the same thickness of
materials prevails over the whole body. There is no waste in the
cutting, and no unnecessary ornaments or appendages, eight yards of
yard-wide goods being sufficient for a complete set of winter garments.
The mental worry that comes to the woman of the West in selecting
patterns, in cutting, and in fitting, is all done away with in China,
since the Chinese lady always selects the same pattern,--or has had it
selected for her by her great-grandmother,--and there is little need for
fitting. Figures that would look unattractive in Western attire can wear
the Chinese dress without disadvantage. Some have attributed the great
age to which Chinese women so frequently attain--notwithstanding the
often unsanitary condition of their homes, often floorless and
windowless--to the hygienic character of their clothing. The winter
clothes in the more northerly sections are padded garments that appear,
to be sure, rather clumsy and uncomfortable. The use of woolen
underclothing does not prevail. These padded garments hang about the
body like bags; and sometimes when children fall down they are utterly
unable to rise without assistance. It is needless to say that woman's
winter attire is by no means graceful or convenient. If even the men do
not use pockets,--which conveniences seem to a Westerner so
indispensable,--it may be surmised that the women have no such
contrivances in their dress. The ordinary costume of a woman consists of
two garments. The upper one appears very much like an American lady's
dressing-sack, only somewhat longer, with flowing sleeves, and is quite
loose fitting, the fastenings being along a curve from the neck to
beneath the right arm, and then in a straight line down that side. The
lower garment is a pair of loose trousers. There is little or no
difference in the style of the outer and inner garments, more or fewer
being worn according to the state of the weather. A skirt is seldom worn
in the Canton section, except by a bride at the time of her marriage.
This custom, however, varies in different sections of China. In
Shanghai, women are seldom seen without skirts. Notwithstanding the
sameness and similarity of cut in Chinese costume, the quality of beauty
is not entirely forgotten. A Chinese gentleman, when asked what things
the Chinese women most delight in, replied: "First, beautiful clothes
and ornaments with which to make themselves attractive. Secondly, to
live in idleness. Thirdly, to have servants to wait upon them." The
remark would suggest moral weakness which is, alas! far too common.
Tsq-hia once asked Confucius what inference might be drawn from the
often quoted lines:
"Dimples playing in witching smile,
Beautiful eyes, so dark, so bright.
O, and her face may be thought the while,
Colored by art, red rose on white."
To which the teacher replied: "Coloring requires a pure and clear
background." This was the great master's way of emphasizing character as
a necessary accompaniment of true beauty. But this ideal is largely
forgotten.
The custom of binding the feet is not so common as is often supposed.
There are many localities in which the habit is almost universal; while
in many sections, especially in the agricultural districts, the feet of
the women are of normal growth. In the sections and among the classes in
which this fashion prevails, the early suffering, as well as the later
inconvenience, is intense. The Chinese woman, however, does not
emphasize the importance of convenience as would her practical sister of
the West; the suffering they bear with much resignation. Various
explanations are given of the origin of foot binding. Some accounts
state that it arose from a desire thereby to remove the reproach of the
club feet of a popular empress; others hold that it sprang from a great
admiration for delicate feet and an attempt to imitate them; others
claim that it was imposed by husbands to keep their wives from gadding.
Still other accounts say that the Emperor Hau Chu, of the Chan dynasty,
in A.D. 583, ordered his concubines to bind their feet small enough to
cover a golden lily at each step. He had golden lilies made and
scattered about for them to walk upon when they were playing before him.
The admirers of the ruler imitated the practice, and so it spread. This
seems to be the most probable explanation, as the expression _kam-lin_,
literally "golden lilies," meaning "ladies' small feet," and _lin-po_,
literally "a lily step," meaning "a lady's gait," are in common use
to-day. In the beginning, the feet were not bound so early nor so
tightly as to-day, and the custom now varies greatly in different parts
of the empire. The present, the Manchu government, has made efforts to
prevent the practice of foot binding among the people, but with little
or no success. The Manchus do not practise it themselves, and they are
powerless to prevent it. As the Chinese sometimes say: "Fashion is
stronger than the emperor."
The Chinese find it difficult to understand the freedom of intercourse
which characterizes the sexes in the West. They regard such social
freedom as being difficult to harmonize with modesty and morality. As a
rule, Chinese women are modest and chaste. But it is thought that these
are best assured by restricting their social freedom. On the streets the
women, with the exception of the lewd, appear with becoming modesty and
decorum. Notwithstanding the advantage that must come from the limiting
of woman's sphere of influence, examples are not wanting in which
Chinese women have exerted their native powers to a conspicuous degree
in moulding the history of their times.
Through the isolation of the women, they become naturally more
superstitious than the men; and, as might be surmised, the former are
the stronghold of the ancient religious faiths of the Chinese. And yet
none of the ancient religions nor the philosophies of the country have
done much to elevate the feminine half of the nation. The best the
Buddhist priest can hold out to the pious woman is the hope that in the
next transmigration her soul may be born a man's.
Some women of the Celestial Empire have held commanding positions of
political influence. Whether a woman might occupy an influential place
in the management of Chinese public affairs has depended somewhat upon
the character of the ruling dynasty. And while queens are not possible
in China, because sons alone may hold the sceptre, women have been known
to exert such influence in the matter of government as to be practically
supreme. There have been a number of cases of empresses regent. There
were two such instances during the Ming dynasty which were quoted as
justifying a more recent regency that has been one of the most
remarkable on record in any land. When the Emperor Hien-fung died on
August 22, 1861, his son Chiseang, then but six years of age, was
proclaimed emperor in his stead, under a regency composed of eight men.
By a bold _coup d'etat_, Prince Kung, brother of Hien-fung, succeeded,
by the aid of the army, in driving this regency from power and in
proclaiming a new one composed of two empresses: Tsi An, the principal
wife of the late Hien-fung, and Tszu-Hszi, the mother of the young
emperor. Neither of these royal women knew the Manchu language, and
Prince Kung was the power behind them, and was rewarded with the post of
prime minister under the two empresses. It was not long, however, before
an edict was issued degrading the prince, whose growing power and
arrogance the empresses feared. And just here emerges the evidence that
the prince was dealing with one of the most astute and aggressive women
of the world, Tszu-Hszi, a woman who has compelled the world to reckon
with her presence for half a century.
It is true that when the young emperor had reached the age of sixteen,
and had been married about four months, the empresses, no longer able to
present excuses for not doing so, issued a decree bestowing upon
Chiseang, now called Tungche, the right to assume the management of the
affairs of state. But his reign was brief, for after about three years,
as it is said, he "ascended upon the Dragon to be a guest on high." Many
suspected foul play, but certain it is that the outcome inured to the
advantage of the two empresses. That which was more ugly still was the
treatment of the young Empress Ahluta, wife of the late ruler. On the
death of her husband she was about to give birth to a child. The
empresses, however, saw their opportunity as well as their danger. For
if Ahluta's child should be a son, not only would he be the legal ruler,
but the mother herself would at once assume a prominent place in the
government. Ahluta must be set aside. Soon she sickened--some said
because of her grief for her husband, while others knew of the
determination of the empresses to retain power at all hazards. Who then
should be chosen heir to the throne? The empresses selected Tsai Tien, a
son of Prince Chun, brother of the powerful Kung. The latter was again
in complete control, by the grace of the two astute and ambitious women
whose minds were firmly set upon retaining rule at whatever cost. The
fortunate, or unfortunate, young man who had been made nominal emperor,
not by inheritance, but by selection, was given the style of Kwang-su,
or "Illustrious Succession." The way in which Tszu-Hszi, empress
dowager, has been able to be the controlling factor in Chinese national
life, crushing rivals, winning the support of politicians, and carrying
out policies, is one of the wonders of modern political history. This
seems the more remarkable in a country where women are generally forced
to the background, and in an age in which tumultuous scenes and grave
upheavals have been many.
The head of the army of the United States was not far from the truth
when he pronounced the Empress-dowager of China, not even excepting the
great and good Victoria, as altogether the ablest woman of the century.
Contiguous in territory and closely related in manners and customs to
the Chinese are the Coreans. The Corean ruler, though in his own country
an absolute monarch, was for several centuries a vassal of the Chinese
Empire, and the educated class continue to employ the Chinese language
in literary and social intercourse. In 1894, Corea having repudiated the
suzerainty of China, war ensued between Japan and China, and as a result
Corea has since been largely under Japanese influence.
The native Coreans fondly call their country "the Land of the Morning
Calm." Its people are of the Mongolian type, and are therefore closely
allied in sympathy to the Chinese and Japanese, with whom they have had
social and political kinship and contact from time out of mind. The
moral status of the women may be surmised when it is remembered that
woman is regarded as without moral existence. It is not to be
understood, however, that she has no name. When a very little girl, she
receives a temporary surname by which she is known to her relatives and
intimate friends. When she reaches the age of puberty, this appellation
is no longer used by her friends. When she marries, her parents cease to
call her by her childhood's name. She is now known to them by the name
of the district into which she has married. Her husband's parents,
however, speak of her as the woman of the place from which she came.