CHAPTER IV

K'ANG HSI

The Emperor Shun Chih was succeeded by his third son, known by his

year-title as K'ang Hsi (lasting prosperity), who was only eight

years old at the time of his accession. Twelve years later the new

monarch took up the reins of government, and soon began to make his

influence felt. Fairly tall and well proportioned, he loved all manly

exercises, and devoted three months annually to hunting. Large bright

eyes lighted up his face, which was pitted with smallpox.

Contemporary observers vie with one another in praising his wit,

understanding, and liberality of mind. He was not twenty when the

three feudatory princes broke into open rebellion. Of these, Wu

San-kuei, the virtual founder of the dynasty, who had been appointed

in 1659, was the chief; and it was at his instigation that his

colleagues who ruled in Kuangtung and Fuhkien determined to throw off

their allegiance and set up independent sovereignties. Within a few

months, K'ang Hsi found vast portions of the empire slipping from his

grasp; but though at one moment only the provinces of Chihli, Honan,

and Shantung were left to him in peaceable possession, he never lost

heart. The resources of Wu San-kuei were ultimately found to be

insufficient for the struggle, the issue of which was determined

partly by his death in 1678, and partly by the powerful artillery

manufactured for the Imperial forces by the Jesuit missionaries, who

were then in high favour at court. The capital city of Yünnan was

taken by assault in 1681, upon which Wu San-kuei's son committed

suicide, and the rebellion collapsed. From that date the Manchus

decided that there should be no more "princes" among their Chinese

subjects, and the rule has been observed until the present day.

Under the Emperor K'ang Hsi a re-arrangement of the empire was

planned and carried out; that is to say, whereas during the Mongol

dynasty there had only been thirteen provinces, increased to fifteen

by the Mings, there was now a further increase of three, thus

constituting what is known as the Eighteen Provinces, or China

Proper. To effect this, the old province of Kiangnan was divided into

the modern Anhui and Kiangsu; Kansuh was carved out of Shensi; and

Hukuang was separated into Hupeh and Hunan. Formosa, which was

finally reconquered in 1683, was made part of the province of

Fuhkien, and so remained for some two hundred years, when it was

erected into an independent province. Thus, for a time China Proper

consisted of nineteen provinces, until the more familiar "eighteen"

was recently restored by the transfer of Formosa to Japan. In

addition to the above, the eastern territory, originally inhabited by

the Manchus, was divided into the three provinces already mentioned,

all of which were at first organized upon a purely military basis;

but of late years the administration of the southernmost province, in

which stands Mukden, the Manchu capital, has been brought more into

line with that of China Proper.

In 1677 the East India Company established an agency at Amoy, which,

though withdrawn in 1681, was re-established in 1685. The first

treaty with Russia was negotiated in 1679, but less than ten years

later a further treaty was found necessary, under which it was agreed

that the river Amur was to be the boundary-line between the two

dominions, the Russians giving up possession of both banks. Thus

Ya-k'o-sa, or Albazin, was ceded by Russia to China, and some of the

inhabitants, who appear to have been either pure Russians or

half-castes, were sent as prisoners to Peking, where religious

instruction was provided for them according to the rules of the

orthodox church. All the descendants of these Albazins probably

perished in the destruction of the Russian college during the siege

of the Legations in 1900. Punitive expeditions against Galdan and

Arabtan carried the frontiers of the empire to the borders of Khokand

and Badakshan, and to the confines of Tibet.

Galdan was a khan of the Kalmucks, who succeeded in establishing his

rule through nearly the whole of Turkestan, after attaining his

position by the murder of a brother. He attacked the Khalkas, and

thus incurred the resentment of K'ang Hsi, whose subjects they were;

and in order to strengthen his power, he applied to the Dalai Lama

for ordination, but was refused. He then feigned conversion to

Mahometanism, though without attracting Mahometan sympathies. In 1689

the Emperor in person led an army against him, crossing the deadly

desert of Gobi for this purpose. Finally, after a further expedition

and a decisive defeat in 1693, Galdan became a fugitive, and died

three years afterwards. He was succeeded as khan by his nephew,

Arabtan, who soon took up the offensive against China. He invaded

Tibet, and pillaged the monasteries as far as Lhasa; but was

ultimately driven back by a Manchu army to Sungaria, where he was

murdered in 1727.

The question of the calendar early attracted attention under the

reign of K'ang Hsi. After the capture of Peking in 1644, the Manchus

had employed the Jesuit Father, Schaal, upon the Astronomical Board,

an appointment which, owing to the jealousies aroused, very nearly

cost him his life. What he taught was hardly superior to the

astronomy then in vogue, which had been inherited from the Mongols,

being nothing more than the old Ptolemaic system, already discarded

in Europe. In 1669, a Flemish Jesuit Father from Courtrai, named

Verbiest, was placed upon the Board, and was entrusted with the

correction of the calendar according to more recent investigations.

Christianity was officially recognized in 1692, and an Imperial edict

was issued ordering its toleration throughout the empire. The

discovery of the Nestorian Tablet in 1625 had given a considerable

impulse, in spite of its heretical associations, to Christian

propagandism; and it was estimated that in 1627 there were no fewer

than thirteen thousand converts, many of whom were highly placed

officials, and even members of the Imperial family. An important

question, however, now came to a head, and completely put an end to

the hope that China under the Manchus might embrace the Roman

Catholic faith. The question was this: May converts to Christianity

continue the worship of ancestors? Ricci, the famous Jesuit, who died

in 1610, and who is the only foreigner mentioned by name in the

dynastic histories of China, was inclined to regard worship of

ancestors more as a civil than a religious rite. He probably foresaw,

as indeed time has shown, that ancestral worship would prove to be an

insuperable obstacle to many inquirers, if they were called upon to

discard it once and for all; at the same time, he must have known

that an invocation to spirits, coupled with the hope of obtaining

some benefit therefrom, is _worship_ pure and simple, and cannot be

explained away as an unmeaning ceremony.

Against the Jesuits in this matter were arrayed the Dominicans and

Franciscans; and the two parties fought the question before several

Popes, sometimes one side carrying its point, and sometimes the

other. At length, in 1698, a fresh petition was forwarded by the

Jesuit order in China, asking the Pope to sanction the practice of

this rite by native Christians, and also praying that the Chinese

language might be used in the celebration of mass. K'ang Hsi

supported the Jesuits in the view that ancestral worship was a

harmless ceremony; but after much wrangling, and the dispatch of a

Legate to the Manchu court, the Pope decided against the Jesuits and

their Imperial ally. This was too much for the pride of K'ang Hsi,

and he forthwith declared that in future he would only allow

facilities for preaching to those priests who shared his view. In

1716, an edict was issued, banishing all missionaries unless excepted

as above. The Emperor had indeed been annoyed by another

ecclesiastical squabble, on a minor scale of importance, which had

been raging almost simultaneously around the choice of an appropriate

Chinese term for God. The term approved, if not suggested, by K'ang

Hsi, and indisputably the right one, as shown by recent research, was

set aside by the Pope in 1704 in favour of one which was supposed for

a long time to have been coined for the purpose, but which had really

been applied for many centuries previously to one of the eight

spirits of ancient mythology.

In addition to his military campaign, K'ang Hsi carried out several

journeys of considerable length, and managed to see something of the

empire beyond the walls of Peking. He climbed the famous mountain,

T'ai-shan, in Shantung, the summit of which had been reached in 219

B.C. by the famous First Emperor, burner of the books and part

builder of the Great Wall, and where a century later another Emperor

had instituted a mysterious worship of Heaven and Earth. The ascent

of T'ai-shan had been previously accomplished by only six Emperors in

all, the last of whom went up in the year 1008; since K'ang Hsi no

further Imperial attempts have been made, so that his will close the

list in connexion with the Manchu dynasty. It was on this occasion

too that he visited the tomb of Confucius, also in Shantung.

The vagaries of the Yellow River, named "China's Sorrow" by a later

Emperor, were always a source of great anxiety to K'ang Hsi; so much

so that he paid a personal visit to the scene, and went carefully

into the various plans for keeping the waters to a given course.

Besides causing frequently recurring floods, with immense loss of

life and property, this river has a way of changing unexpectedly its

bed; so lately as 1856, it turned off at right angles near the city

of K'ai-fêng, in Honan, and instead of emptying itself into the

Yellow Sea about latitude 34°, found a new outlet in the Gulf of

Peichili, latitude 38°.

K'ang Hsi several times visited Hangchow, returning to Tientsin by

the Grand Canal, a distance of six hundred and ninety miles. This

canal, it will be remembered, was designed and executed under Kublai

Khan in the thirteenth century, and helped to form an almost unbroken

line of water communication between Peking and Canton. At Hangchow,

during one visit, he held an examination of all the (so-called)

B.A.'s and M.A.'s, especially to test their poetical skill; and he

also did the same at Soochow and Nanking, taking the opportunity,

while at Nanking, to visit the mausoleum of the founder of the Ming

dynasty, who lies buried near by, and whose descendants had been

displaced by the Manchus. Happily for K'ang Hsi's complacency, the

book of fate is hidden from Emperors, as well as from subjects,--

All but the page prescribed, their present state

and he was unable to foresee another visit paid to that mausoleum two

hundred and seven years later, under very different conditions, to

which we shall come in due course.

The census has always been an important institution in China. Without

going back so far as the legendary golden age, the statistics of

which have been invented by enthusiasts, we may accept unhesitatingly

such records as we find subsequent to the Christian era, on the

understanding that these returns are merely approximate. They could

hardly be otherwise, inasmuch as the Chinese count families and not

heads, roughly allowing five souls to each household. This plan

yields a total of rather over fifty millions for the year A.D. 156,

and one hundred and five millions for the fortieth year of the reign

of K'ang Hsi, 1701.

No record of this Emperor, however brief, could fail to notice the

literary side of his character, and his extraordinary achievements in

this direction. It is almost paradoxical, though absolutely true,

that two Manchu Emperors, sprung from a race which but a few decades

before had little thought for anything beyond war and the chase, and

which had not even a written language of its own, should have

conferred more benefits upon the student of literature than all the

rest of China's Emperors put together. The literature in question is,

of course, Chinese literature. Manchu was the court language, spoken

as well as written, for many years after 1644, and down to quite

recent times all official documents were in duplicate, one copy in

Chinese and one in Manchu; but a Manchu literature can hardly be said

to exist, beyond translations of all the most important Chinese

works. The Manchu dynasty is an admirable illustration of the old

story: conquerors taken captive by the conquered.

At this moment, the term "K'ang Hsi" is daily on the lips of every

student of the Chinese language, native or foreign, throughout the

empire. This is due to the fact that the Emperor caused to be

produced under his own personal superintendence, on a more extensive

scale and a more systematic plan than any previous work of the kind,

a lexicon of the Chinese language, containing over forty thousand

characters, with numerous illustrative phrases chronologically

arranged, the spelling of each character according to the method

introduced by Buddhist teachers and first used in the third century,

the tones, various readings, etc., etc., altogether a great work and

still without a rival at the present day.

It would be tedious even to enumerate all the various literary

undertakings conceived and carried out under the direction of K'ang

Hsi; but there are two works in particular which cannot be passed

over. One of these is the huge illustrated encyclopædia in which

everything which has ever been said upon each of a vast array of

subjects is brought into a systematized book of reference, running to

many hundred volumes, and being almost a complete library in itself.

It was printed, after the death of K'ang Hsi, from movable copper

types. The other is, if anything, a still more extraordinary though

not such a voluminous work. It is a concordance to all literature;

not of words, but of phrases. A student meeting with an unfamiliar

combination of characters can turn to its pages and find every

passage given, in sufficient fullness, where the phrase in question

has been used by poet, historian, or essayist.

The last years of K'ang Hsi were beclouded by family troubles. For

some kind of intrigue, in which magic played a prominent part, he had

been compelled to degrade the Heir Apparent, and to appoint another

son to the vacant post; but a year or two later, this son was found

to be mentally deranged, and was placed under restraint. So things

went on for several more years, the Emperor apparently unable to make

up his mind as to the choice of a successor; and it was not until the

last day of his life that he finally decided in favour of his fourth

son. Dying in 1723, his reign had already extended beyond the Chinese

cycle of sixty years, a feat which no Emperor of China, in historical

times, had ever before achieved, but which was again to be

accomplished, before the century was out, by his grandson.

China and the Manchus · 第 4 / 12 章