SOCIAL LIFE AMONG THE CHINESE, 782-836
Features and professions in Chinese society, 782; Social
relations between the sexes, 784; Customs of betrothment and
marriage, 785; Laws regulating marriages, 792; General condition
of females in China, 794; Personal names of the Chinese, 797;
Familiar and ceremonial intercourse: The _Kotow_, 800; Forms and
etiquette of visiting, 802; A Chinese banquet, 807; Temperance
of the Chinese, 808; Festivals; Absence of a Sabbath in China,
809; Customs and ceremonies attending New-Year’s Day, 811; The
dragon-boat festival and feast of lanterns, 816; Brilliance
and popularity of processions in China, 819; Play-houses and
theatrical shows, 820; Amusements and sports: Gambling, chess,
825; Contrarieties in Chinese and Western usage, 831; Strength
and weakness of Chinese character, 833; Their mendacity and
deceit, 834.
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS IN VOLUME I.
PAGE
WORSHIP OF THE EMPEROR AT THE TEMPLE OF HEAVEN, _Frontispiece_
TITLE-PAGE, REPRESENTING AN HONORARY PORTAL, OR _PAI-LAU_. (The
two characters, _Shing chí_, upon the top, indicate that the
structure has been erected by imperial command. In the panel
upon the lintel the four characters, _Chung Kwoh Tsung-lun_, ‘A
General Account of the Middle Kingdom,’ express in Chinese the
title of this work. On the right the inscription reads, _Jin
ché ngai jin yu tsin kih so_, ‘He who is benevolent loves those
near, and then those who are remote;’ the other side contains an
expression attributed to Confucius, ‘_Sí fang chí jin yu shing
ché yé_,’ ‘The people of the West have their sages.’)--Compare
p. 757.
A ROAD-CUT IN THE LOESS, 38
AN-TING GATE, WALL OF PEKING, _to face_ 63
PLAN OF PEKING, 66
PORTAL OF CONFUCIAN TEMPLE, PEKING, 74
MONUMENT, OR TOPE, OF A LAMA, HWANG SZ’, PEKING, _to face_ 79
VIEW OVER THE LOESS-CLEFTS IN SHANSÍ, 97
TEMPLE OF THE GODDESS MA TSU-PU, NINGPO, _to face_ 123
LUKAN GORGE, YANGTSZ’ RIVER. (From Blakiston.), _to face_ 146
VIEW OF A STREET IN CANTON, _to face_ 168
MIAOTSZ’ TYPES, 179
DOMESTICATED YAK, 242
FAÇADE OF DWELLINGS IN LOESS CLIFFS, LING-SHÍ HIEN, 301
COAL GORGE ON THE YANGTSZ’. (From Blakiston.), _to face_ 306
_FÍ-FÍ_ AND _HAI-TUH_. (From a Chinese cut.), 316
THE CHINESE PIG, 324
MODE OF CARRYING PIGS, 325
THE _KÍ-LIN_, OR UNICORN, 342
THE _FUNG-HWANG_, or PHŒNIX, 343
DIFFERENT STYLES OF OFFICIAL CAPS, 414
MODE OF CARRYING HIGH OFFICERS IN SEDAN, 503
PRISONER CONDEMNED TO THE CANGUE IN COURT, _to face_ 504
MODE OF EXPOSURE IN THE CANGUE, 509
PUBLICLY WHIPPING A THIEF THROUGH THE STREETS, 511
INTERIOR OF _KUNG YUEN_, OR ‘EXAMINATION HALL,’ PEKING, _to face_ 551
CHINESE HIEROGLYPHICS AND THEIR MODERN EQUIVALENTS, 584
SIX STYLES OF CHINESE CHARACTERS, 596
WORSHIP OF CONFUCIUS AND HIS DISCIPLES, 665
DIAGRAM OF CHINESE ROOF CONSTRUCTION, 726
THE _PIH-YUNG KUNG_, OR ‘CLASSIC HALL,’ PEKING, _to face_ 730
WHEELBARROW USED FOR TRAVELLING, 747
BRIDGE IN WAN-SHAO SHAN GARDENS, NEAR PEKING, 754
BRIDGE, SHOWING THE MODE OF MORTISING THE ARCH, 756
BARBER’S ESTABLISHMENT, 760
TRICKS PLAYED WITH THE QUEUE, 762
PROCESSION OF LADIES TO AN ANCESTRAL TEMPLE, _to face_ 765
APPEARANCE OF THE BONES OF A FOOT WHEN COMPRESSED, 767
FEET OF CHINESE LADIES, 768
SHAPE OF A LADY’S SHOE, 769
BOYS GAMBLING WITH CRICKETS, 826
CHINESE CHESS-BOARD, 827
NOTE RESPECTING THE SYSTEM OF PRONUNCIATION ADOPTED IN THIS WORK.
In this the values of the vowels are as follows:
1. _a_ as the italicized letters in f_a_ther, f_a_r (never like _a_ in
h_a_t); e.g., _chang_, _hang_--sounded almost as if written _chahng_,
_hahng_, not flat as in the English words _sang_, _bang_, _man_, etc.
2. _ă_ like the short _u_ in b_u_t, or as any of the italicized vowels
in Americ_a_n, s_u_mmer, m_o_ther; the German _ö_ approaches this
sound, while Wade writes it _ê_; e.g., p_ă_n, t_ă_ng, to be pronounced
as _pun_, _tongue_.
3. _e_ as in m_e_n, d_ea_d, s_ai_d; as _teh_, _shen_, _yen_.
4. _é_, the French _é_, as in th_e_y, n_ei_gh, pr_a_y; as ch_é_, y_é_,
pronounced _chay_, _yay_.
5. _i_ as in p_i_n, f_i_n_i_sh; as _sing_, _lin_, _Chihlí_.
6. _í_ as in mach_i_ne, bel_ie_ve, f_ee_l, m_e_; as _lí_, _Kíshen_,
_Kanghí_.
7. _o_ as in l_o_ng, l_aw_n; never like n_o_, cr_ow_; as _to_, _soh_,
_po_.
8. _u_ as in r_u_le, t_oo_, f_oo_l; as _Turk_, _Belur_, _ku_, _sung_;
pronounced _Toork_, _Beloor_, _koo_, _soong_. This sound is heard less
full in _fuh_, _tsun_, and a few other words; this and the next may be
considered as equivalent to the two _u_-sounds found in German.
9. _ü_ nearly as in l’_u_ne (French), or _u_nion, rh_eu_m; as _hü_,
_tsü_.
10. _ai_ as in _ai_sle, h_igh_, or longer than _i_ in p_i_ne; as
_Shanghai_, _Hainan_. The combination _ei_ is more slender than _ai_,
though the difference is slight; e.g., _Kwei chau_.
11. _au_ and _ao_ as in r_ou_nd, _ou_r, h_ow_; as _Fuhchau_, _Macao_,
_Taukwang_.
12. _éu_ as in the colloquial phrase _say ’em_; e.g., _chéung_. This
diphthong is heard in the Canton dialect.
13. _ia_ as in _ya_rd; e.g., _hia_, _kiang_; not to be sounded as if
written _high-a_, _kigh-ang_, but like _heä_, _keäng_.
14. _iau_ is made by joining Nos. 5 and 11; _hiau_, _Liautung_.
15. _ie_ as in s_ie_rra (Spanish), R_ie_nzi; e.g., _hien_, _kien_.
16. _iu_ as in p_ew_, p_u_re, lengthened to a diphthong; _kiu_, _siun_.
17. _iue_ is made by adding a short _e_ to the preceding; _kiuen_,
_hiuen_.
18. _ui_ as in L_oui_siana, s_ui_cide; e.g., _sui_, _chui_.
The consonants are sounded generally as they are in the English
alphabet. _Ch_ as in _ch_urch; _hw_ as in _wh_en; _j_ soft, as _s_ in
plea_s_ure; _kw_ as in aw_kw_ard; _ng_, as an initial, as in si_nging_,
leaving off the first two letters; _sz’_ and _tsz’_ are to be sounded
full with one breathing, but none of the English vowels are heard in
it; the sound stops at the _z_; Dr. Morrison wrote these sounds _tsze_
and _sze_, while Sir Thomas Wade, whose system bids fair to become the
most widely employed, turns them into _ssŭ_ and _tzŭ_. The _hs_ of
the latter, made by omitting the first vowel of _hissing_, is written
simply as _h_ by the author. _Urh_, or _’rh_, is pronounced as the
three last letters of _purr_.
All these, except No. 12, are heard in the court dialect, which has
now become the most common mode of writing the names of places and
persons in China. Though foreign authors have employed different
letters, they have all intended to write the same sound; thus _chan_,
_shan_, and _xan_, are only different ways of writing 閂; and _tsse_,
_tsze_, _tsz’_, _𝔷h_, _tzŭ_, and _tzu_, of 字. Such is not the case,
however, with such names as _Macao_, _Hongkong_, _Amoy_, _Whampoa_,
and others along the coast, which are sounded according to the local
patois, and not the court pronunciation--_Ma-ngau_, _Hiangkiang_,
_Hiamun_, _Hwangpu_, etc. Many of the discrepancies seen in the works
of travellers and writers are owing to the fact that each is prone to
follow his own fancy in transliterating foreign names; uniformity is
almost unattainable in this matter. Even, too, in what is called the
court dialect there is a great diversity among educated Chinese, owing
to the traditional way all learn the sounds of the characters. In this
work, and on the map, the sounds are written uniformly according to
the pronunciation given in Morrison’s Dictionary, but not according
to his orthography. Almost every writer upon the Chinese language
seems disposed to propose a new system, and the result is a great
confusion in writing the same name; for example, _eull_, _olr_, _ul_,
_ulh_, _lh_, _urh_, _’rh_, _í_, _e_, _lur_, _nge_, _ngí_, _je_, _jí_,
are different ways of writing the sounds given to a single character.
Amid these discrepancies, both among the Chinese themselves and those
who endeavor to catch their pronunciation, it is almost impossible to
settle upon one mode of writing the names of places. That which seems
to offer the easiest pronunciation has been adopted in this work.
It may, perhaps, be regarded as an unimportant matter, so long as
the place is known, but to one living abroad, and unacquainted with
the language, the discrepancy is a source of great confusion. He is
unable to decide, for instance, whether _Tung-ngan_, _Tungon hien_,
_Tang-oune_, and _Tungao_, refer to the same place or not.
In writing Chinese proper names, authors differ greatly as to the style
of placing them; thus, Fuhchaufu, Fuh-chau-fu, Fuh Chau Fu, Fuh-Chau
fu, etc., are all seen. Analogy affords little guide here, for New
York, Philadelphia, and Cambridge are severally unlike in the principle
of writing them: the first, being really formed of an adjective and a
noun, is not in this case united to the latter, as it is in Newport,
Newtown, etc.; the second is like the generality of Chinese towns, and
while it is now written as one word, it would be written as two if the
name were translated--as ‘Brotherly Love;’ but the third, _Cambridge_,
despite its derivation, is never written in two words, and many Chinese
names are like this in origin. Thus applying these rules, properly
enough, to Chinese places, they have been written here as single words,
_Suchau_, _Peking_, _Hongkong_; a hyphen has been inserted in some
places only to avoid mispronunciation, as _Hiau-í_, _Sí-ngan_, etc.
It is hardly supposed that this system will alter such names as are
commonly written otherwise, nor, indeed, that it will be adhered to
with absolute consistency in the following pages; but the principle of
the arrangement is perhaps the simplest possible. The additions _fu_,
_chau_, _ting_, and _hien_, being classifying terms, should form a
separate word. In conclusion, it may be stated that this system could
only be carried out approximately as regards the proper names in the
colonies and outside of the Empire.
THE
MIDDLE KINGDOM.
CHAPTER I.
GENERAL DIVISIONS AND FEATURES OF THE EMPIRE.
The possessions of the ruling dynasty of China,--that portion of the
Asiatic continent which is usually called by geographers the CHINESE
EMPIRE,--form one of the most extensive dominions ever swayed by a
single power in any age, or any part of the world. Comprising within
its limits every variety of soil and climate, and watered by large
rivers, which serve not only to irrigate and drain it, but, by means
of their size and the course of their tributaries, affording unusual
facilities for intercommunication, it produces within its own borders
everything necessary for the comfort, support, and delight of its
occupants, who have depended very slightly upon the assistance of other
climes and nations for satisfying their own wants. Its civilization
has been developed under its own institutions; its government has been
modelled without knowledge or reference to that of any other kingdom;
its literature has borrowed nothing from the genius or research of the
scholars of other lands; its language is unique in its symbols, its
structure, and its antiquity; its inhabitants are remarkable for their
industry, peacefulness, numbers, and peculiar habits. The examination
of such a people, and so extensive a country, can hardly fail of being
both instructive and entertaining, and if rightly pursued, lead to
a stronger conviction of the need of the precepts and sanctions of
the Bible to the highest development of every nation in its personal,
social, and political relations in this world, as well as to individual
happiness in another. It is to be hoped, too, that at this date in the
world’s history, there are many more than formerly, who desire to learn
the condition and wants of others, not entirely for their own amusement
and congratulation at their superior knowledge and advantages, but also
to promote the well-being of their fellow-men, and impart liberally of
the gifts they themselves enjoy. Those who desire to do this, will find
that few families of mankind are more worthy of their greatest efforts
than those comprised within the limits of the Chinese Empire; while
none stand in more need of the purifying, ennobling, and invigorating
principles of our holy religion to develop and enforce their own
theories of social improvement.
~ORIGIN OF THE NAME CHINA.~
The origin of the name _China_ has not yet been fully settled. The
people themselves have now no such name for their country, nor is
there good evidence that they ever did apply it to the whole land.
The occurrence in the _Laws of Manu_ and in the _Mahâbhârata_ of the
name _China_, applied to a land or people with whom the Hindus had
intercourse in the twelfth century B.C., and who were probably the
Chinese, throws the origin far back into the remotest times, where
probability must take the place of evidence. The most credible account
ascribes its origin to the family of Tsin, whose chief first obtained
complete sway, about B.C. 250, over all the other feudal principalities
in the land, and whose exploits rendered him famous in India, Persia,
and other Asiatic states. His sept had, however, long been renowned
in Chinese history, and previous to this conquest had made itself
widely known, not only in China, but in other countries. The kingdom
lay in the northwestern parts of the empire, near the Yellow River,
and according to Visdelou, who has examined the subject, the family
was illustrious by its nobility and power. “Its founder was Tayé, son
of the emperor Chuen-hü. It existed in great splendor for more than a
thousand years, and was only inferior to the royal dignity. Feitsz’,
a prince of this family, had the superintendence of the stud of the
emperor Hiao, B.C. 909, and as a mark of favor his majesty conferred
on him the sovereignty of the city of Tsinchau in _mesne tenure_, with
the title of sub-tributary king. One hundred and twenty-two years
afterwards, B.C. 770, Siangkwan, _petit roi_ of Tsinchau (having by
his bravery revenged the insults offered to the emperor Ping by the
Tartars, who slew his father Yu), was created king in full tenure, and
without limitation or exception. The same monarch, abandoning Sí-ngan
(then called Hao-king, the capital of his empire) to transport his
seat to Lohyang, Siangkwan was able to make himself master of the
large province of Shensí, which had composed the proper kingdom of the
emperor. The king of Tsin thus became very powerful, but though his
fortune changed, he did not alter his title, retaining always that of
the city of Tsinchau, which had been the foundation of his elevation.
The kingdom of Tsin soon became celebrated, and being the place of
the first arrival by land of people from western countries, it seems
probable that those who saw no more of China than the realm of Tsin,
extended this name to all the rest, and called the whole empire Tsin or
Chin.”[2]
This extract refers to periods long before the dethronement of
the house of Chau by princes of Tsin; the position of this latter
principality, contiguous to the desert, and holding the passes leading
from the valley of the Tarim across the desert eastward to China,
renders the supposition of the learned Jesuit highly probable. The
possession of the old imperial capital would strengthen this idea in
the minds of the traders resorting to China from the West; and when the
same family did obtain paramount sway over the whole empire, and its
head render himself celebrated by his conquests, and by building the
Great Wall, the name Tsin was still more widely diffused, and regarded
as the name of the country. The Malays and Arabians, whose vessels were
early found between Aden and Canton, knew it as China, and probably
introduced the name into Europe before 1500. The Hindus contracted it
into _Ma-chin_, from _Maha-china_, _i.e._, ‘Great China;’ and the first
of these was sometimes confounded with _Manji_, a term used for the
tribes in Yunnan. Thus it appears that these and other nations of Asia
have known the country or its people by no other terms than _Jin_,
_Chin_, _Sin_, _Sinæ_, or _Tzinistæ_. The Persian name _Cathay_, and
its Russian form of _Kitai_, is of modern origin; it is altered from
_Ki-tah_, the race which ruled northern China in the tenth century, and
is quite unknown to the people it designates. The Latin word _Seres_ is
derived from the Chinese word _sz’_ (silk), and doubtless first came
into use to denote the people during the Han dynasty.
~VARIOUS DESIGNATIONS.~
The Chinese have many names to designate themselves and the land they
inhabit. One of the most ancient is _Tien Hia_, meaning ‘Beneath the
Sky,’ and denoting the World; another, almost as ancient, is _Sz’ Hai_,
_i.e._, ‘[all within] the Four Seas,’ while a third is _Chung Kwoh_,
or ‘Middle Kingdom.’ This dates from the establishment of the Chau
dynasty, about B.C. 1150, when the imperial family so called its own
special state in Honan because it was surrounded by all the others.
The name was retained as the empire grew, and thus has strengthened
the popular belief that it is really situated in the centre of the
earth; _Chung Kwoh jin_, or ‘men of the Middle Kingdom,’ denotes
the Chinese. All these names indicate the vanity and ignorance of
the people respecting their geographical position and their rank
among the nations; they have not been alone in this foible, for the
Egyptians, Greeks and Romans all had terms for their possessions which
intimated their own ideas of their superiority; while, too, the area
of none of those monarchies, in their widest extent, equalled that of
China Proper. The family of Tsin also established the custom, since
continued, of calling the country by the name of the dynasty then
reigning; but, while the brief duration of that house of forty-four
years was not long enough to give it much currency among the people,
succeeding dynasties, by their talents and prowess, imparted their
own as permanent appellations to the people and country. The terms
_Han-jin_ and _Han-tsz’_ (_i.e._, men of Han or sons of Han) are now in
use by the people to denote themselves: the last also means a “brave
man.” _Tang-jin_, or ‘Men of Tang,’ is quite as frequently heard in
the southern provinces, where the phrase _Tang Shan_, or ‘Hills of
Tang,’ denotes the whole country. The Buddhists of India called the
land _Chin-tan_, or the ‘Dawn,’ and this appellation has been used in
Chinese writings of that sect.
The present dynasty calls the empire _Ta Tsing Kwoh_, or ‘Great Pure
Kingdom;’ but the people themselves have refused the corresponding
term of _Tsing-jin_, or ‘Men of Tsing.’ The empire is also sometimes
termed _Tsing Chau_, _i.e._, ‘[land of the] Pure Dynasty,’ by metonymy
for the family that rules it. The term now frequently heard in western
countries--the Celestial Empire--is derived from _Tien Chau_, _i.e._,
‘Heavenly Dynasty,’ meaning the kingdom which the dynasty appointed by
heaven rules over; but the term _Celestials_, for the people of that
kingdom, is entirely of foreign manufacture, and their language could
with difficulty be made to express such a patronymic. The phrase _Lí
Min_, or ‘Black-haired Race,’ is a common appellation; the expressions
_Hwa Yen_, the ‘Flowery Language,’ and _Chung Hwa Kwoh_, the ‘Middle
Flowery Kingdom,’ are also frequently used for the written language
of the country, because the Chinese consider themselves to be among
the most polished and civilized of all nations--which is the sense
of _hwa_ in these phrases. The phrase _Nui Tí_, or ‘Inner Land,’ is
often employed to distinguish it from countries beyond their borders,
regarded as the desolate and barbarous regions of the earth. _Hwa Hia_
(the Glorious Hia) is an ancient term for China, the Hia dynasty being
the first of the series; _Tung Tu_, or “Land of the East,” is a name
used in Mohammedan writings alone.
The present ruling dynasty has extended the limits of the empire far
beyond what they were under the Ming princes, and nearly to their
extent in the reign of Kublai, A.D. 1290. In 1840, its borders were
well defined, reaching from Sagalien I. on the north-east, in lat.
48° 10′ N. and long. 144° 50′ E., to Hainan I. in the China Sea, on
the south, in lat. 18° 10′ N., and westward to the Belur-tag, in
long. 74° E., inclosing a continuous area, estimated, after the most
careful valuation by McCulloch, at 5,300,000 square miles. The longest
line which could be drawn in this vast region, from the south-western
part of Ílí, bordering on Kokand, north-easterly to the sea of
Okhotsk, is 3,350 miles; its greatest breadth is 2,100 miles, from the
Outer Hing-an or Stanovoi Mountains to the peninsula of Luichau in
Kwangtung:--the first measuring 71 degrees of longitude, and the last
over 34 of latitude.
Since that year the process of disintegration has been going on, and
the cession of Hongkong to the British has been followed by greater
partitions to Russia, which have altogether reduced it more than half a
million of square miles on the north-east and west. Its limits on the
western frontiers are still somewhat undefined. The greatest breadth
is from Albazin on the Amur, nearly south to Hainan, 2,150 miles; and
the longest line which can be drawn in it runs from Sartokh in Tibet,
north-east to the junction of the Usuri River with the Amur.
The form of the empire approaches a rectangle. It is bounded on the
east and south-east by various arms and portions of the Pacific Ocean,
beginning at the frontier of Corea, and called on European maps the
gulfs of Liautung and Pechele, the Yellow Sea, channel of Formosa,
China Sea, and Gulf of Tonquin. Cochinchina and Burmah border on the
provinces of Kwangtung, Kwangsí, and Yunnan, in the south-west; but
most of the region near that frontier is inhabited by half-independent
tribes of Laos, Kakyens, Singphos, and others. The southern ranges of
the Himalaya separate Assam, Butan, Sikkim, Nípal and states in India
from Tibet, whose western border is bounded by the nominally dependent
country of Ladak, or if that be excluded, by the Kara-korum Mountains.
The kingdoms or states of Cashmere, Badakshan, Kokand, and the Kirghís
steppe, lie upon the western frontiers of Little Tibet, Ladak, and Ílí,
as far north as the Russian border; the high range of the Belur-tag or
Tsung-ling separates the former countries from the Chinese territory
in this quarter. Russia is conterminous with China from the Kirghís
steppe along the Altai chain and Kenteh range to the junction of the
Argun and the Amur, from whence the latter river and its tributary,
the Usuri, form the dividing line to the border of Corea, a total
stretch of 5,300 miles. The circuit of the whole empire is 14,000
miles, or considerably over half the circumference of the globe. These
measurements, it must be remembered, are of the roughest character. The
coast line from the mouth of the river Yaluh in Corea to that of the
Annam in Cochinchina is not far from 4,400 miles. This immense country
comprises about one-third of the continent, and nearly one-tenth of the
habitable part of the globe; and, next to Russia, is the largest empire
which has existed on the earth.
It will, perhaps, contribute to a better comprehension of the area of
the Chinese Empire to compare it with some other countries. Russia is
nearly 6,500 miles in its greatest length, about 1,500 in its average
breadth, and measures 8,369,144[3] square miles, or one-seventh of the
land on the globe. The United States of America extends about 3,000
miles from Monterey on the Pacific in a north-easterly direction to
Maine, and about 1,700 from Lake of the Woods to Florida. The area
of this territory is now estimated at 2,936,166 square miles, with a
coast line of 5,120 miles. The area of the British Empire is not far
from 7,647,000 square miles, but the boundaries of some of the colonies
in Hindostan and South Africa are not definitely laid down; the
superficies of the two colonies of Australia and New Zealand is nearly
equal to that of all the other possessions of the British crown.
~GENERAL DIVISIONS.~
The Chinese themselves divide the empire into three principal parts,
rather by the different form of government in each, than by any
geographical arrangement.
I. The _Eighteen Provinces_, including, with trivial additions, the
country conquered by the Manchus in 1664.
II. _Manchuria_, or the native country of the Manchus, lying north of
the Gulf of Liautung as far as the Amur and west of the Usuri River.
III. _Colonial Possessions_, including Mongolia, Ílí (comprising
Sungaria and Eastern Turkestan), Koko-nor, and Tibet.
The first of these divisions alone is that to which other nations have
given the name of China, and is the only part which is entirely settled
by the Chinese. It lies on the eastern slope of the high table-land
of Central Asia, in the south-eastern angle of the continent; and for
beauty of scenery, fertility of soil, salubrity of climate, magnificent
and navigable rivers, and variety and abundance of its productions,
will compare with any portion of the globe. The native name for this
portion, as distinguished from the rest, is _Shih-pah Săng_ or the
‘Eighteen Provinces,’ but the people themselves usually mean this part
alone by the term _Chung Kwoh_. The area of the Eighteen Provinces is
estimated by McCulloch at 1,348,870 square miles, but if the full area
of the provinces of Kansuh and Chihlí be included, this figure is not
large enough; the usual computation is 1,297,999 square miles; Malte
Brun reckons it at 1,482,091 square miles; but the entire dimensions
of the Eighteen Provinces, as the Chinese define them, cannot be much
under 2,000,000 square miles, the excess lying in the extension of the
two provinces mentioned above. This part, consequently, is rather more
than two-fifths of the area of the whole empire.
The old limits are, however, more natural, and being better known may
still be retained. They give nearly a square form to the provinces,
the length from north to south being 1,474 miles, and the breadth
1,355 miles; but the diagonal line from the north-east corner to
Yunnan is 1,669 miles, and that from Amoy to the north-western part
of Kansuh is 1,557 miles. China Proper, therefore, measures about
seven times the size of France, and fifteen times that of the United
Kingdom; it is nearly half as large as all Europe, which is 3,650,000
square miles. Its area is, however, nearer that of all the States of
the American Union lying east of the Mississippi River, with Texas,
Arkansas, Missouri and Iowa added; these all cover 1,355,309 square
miles. The position of the two countries facing the western borders of
great oceans is another point of likeness, which involves considerable
similarity in climate; there is moreover a further resemblance between
the size of the provinces in China and those of the newer States.
~MOUNTAIN CHAINS.~
Before proceeding to define the three great basins into which China
may be divided, it will give a better idea of the whole subject to
speak of the mountain ranges which lie within and near or along the
limits of the country. The latter in themselves form almost an entire
wall inclosing and defining the old empire; the principal exceptions
being the western boundaries of Yunnan, the border between Ílí and the
Kirghís steppe, and the trans-Amur region.
Commencing at the north-eastern corner of the basin of the Amur above
its mouth, near lat. 56° N., are the first summits of the Altai range,
which during its long course of 2,000 miles takes several names; this
range forms the northern limit of the table-land of Central Asia. At
its eastern part, the range is called Stanovoi by the Russians, and
_Wai Hing-an_ by the Chinese; the first name is applied as far west as
the confluence of the Songari with the Amur, beyond which, north-west
as far as lake Baikal, the Russians call it the Daourian Mountains.
The distance from the lake to the ocean is about 600 miles, and all
within Russian limits. Beyond lake Baikal, westward, the chain is
called the Altai, _i.e._, Golden Mountains, and sometimes _Kin shan_,
having a similar meaning. Near the head-waters of the river Selenga
this range separates into two nearly parallel systems running east and
west. The southern one, which lies mostly in Mongolia, is called the
Tangnu, and rises to a much higher elevation than the northern spur.
The Tangnu Mountains continue under that name on the Chinese maps in a
south-westerly direction, but this chain properly joins the Tien shan,
or Celestial Mountains, in the province of Cobdo, and continues until
it again unites with the Altai further west, near the junction of the
Kirghís steppe with China and Russia. The length of the whole chain is
not far from 2,500 miles, and except near the Tshulyshman River, does
not, so far as is known, rise to the snow line, save in detached peaks.
The average elevation is supposed to be in the neighborhood of 7,000
feet; most of it lies between latitudes 47° and 52° N., largely covered
with forests and susceptible of cultivation.
The next chain is the Belur-tag, Tartash ling, in Chinese _Tsung
ling_, Onion Mountains, or better, Blue Mountains, so called from
their distant hue.[4] This range lies in the south-west of Songaria,
separating that territory from Badakshan; it commences about lat. 50°
N., nearly at right angles with the Tien shan, and extends south,
rising to a great height, though little is known of it. It may be
considered as the connecting link between the Tien shan and the
Kwănlun; or rather, both this and the latter may be considered as
proceeding from a mountain knot, detached from the Hindu-kush, in the
south-western part of Turkestan called Pushtikhur, the Belur-tag coming
from its northern side, while the Kwănlun issues from its eastern side,
and extends across the middle of the table-land to Koko-nor, there
diverging into two branches. This mountain knot lies between latitudes
36° and 37° N., and longitudes 70° and 74° E. The Himalaya range
proceeds from it south-easterly, along the southern frontier of Tibet,
till it breaks up near the head-waters of the Yangtsz’, Salween, and
other rivers between Tibet, Burmah, and Yunnan, thus nearly completing
the inland frontier of the empire. A small spur from the Yun ling,
in the west of Yunnan, in the country of the Singphos and borders of
Assam, may also be regarded as forming part of the boundary line. The
_Chang-peh shan_ lies between the head-waters of the Yaluh and Toumen
rivers, along the Corean frontier, forming a spur of the lower range of
the Sihota or _Sih-hih-teh_ Mountains, east of the Usuri.
~THE TIEN SHAN AND KWĂNLUN RANGES.~
Within the confines of the empire are four large chains, some of the
peaks in their course rising to stupendous elevations, but the ridges
generally falling below the snow line. The first is the Tien shan or
Celestial Mountains, called Tengkiri by the Mongols, and sometimes
erroneously Alak Mountains. This chain begins at the northern extremity
of the Belur-tag in lat. 40° N., or more properly comes in from the
west, and extends from west to east between longitudes 76° and 90° E.,
and generally along the 22° of north latitude, dividing Ílí into the
Northern and Southern Circuits. Its western portion is called Muz-tag;
the Muz-daban, about long. 79° E., between Kuldja and Aksu, is where
the road from north to south runs across, leading over a high glacier
above the snow line. East of this occurs a mass of peaks among the
highest in Central Asia, called Bogdo-ula; and at the eastern end,
near Urumtsi, as it declines to the desert, are traces of volcanic
action seen in solfataras and spaces covered with ashes, but no active
volcanoes are now known. The doubtful volcano of Pí shan, between the
glacier and the Bogdo-ula, is the only one reported in continental
China. The Tien shan end abruptly at their eastern point, where the
ridge meets the desert, not far from the meridian of Barkul in Kansuh,
though Humboldt considers the hills in Mongolia a continuation of the
range eastward, as far as the Nui Hing-an. The space between the Altai
and Tien shan is very much broken up by mountainous spurs, which may
be considered as connecting links of them both, though no regular
chain exists. The western prolongation of the Tien shan, under the
name of the Muz-tag, extends from the high pass only as far as the
junction of the Belur-tag, beyond which, and out of the Chinese Empire,
it continues nearly west, south of the river Sihon toward Kodjend,
under the names of Ak-tag and Asferah-tag; this part is covered with
perpetual snow.
Nearly parallel with the Tien shan in part of its course is the Nan
shan, Kwănlun or Koulkun range of mountains, also called _Tien Chu_
or ‘Celestial Pillar’ by Chinese geographers. The Kwănlun starts from
the Pushtikhur knot in lat. 36° N., and runs along easterly in nearly
that parallel through the whole breadth of the table-land, dividing
Tibet from the desert of Gobi in part of its course. About the middle
of its extent, not far from long. 90° E., it divides into several
ranges, which decline to the south-east through Koko-nor and Sz’chuen,
under the names of the Bayan-kara, the Burkhan-buddha, the Shuga and
the Tangla Mountains,--each more or less parallel in their general
south-east course till they merge with the Yun ling (_i.e._, Cloudy
Mountains), about lat. 33° N. Another group bends northerly, beyond
the sources of the Yellow River, and under the names of Altyn-tag,
Nan shan, Ín shan, and Ala shan, passes through Kansuh and Shensí
to join the Nui Hing-an, not far from the great bend of the Yellow
River. Some portion of the country between the extremities of these
two ranges is less elevated, but no plains occur, though the parts
north of Kansuh, where the Great Wall runs, are rugged and unfertile.
The large tract between the basins of the Tarim River and that of the
Yaru-tsangbu, including the Kwănlun range, is mostly occupied by the
desert of Gobi, and is now one of the least known parts of the globe.
The mineral treasures of the Kwănlun are probably great, judging from
the many precious stones ascribed to it; this desolate region is the
favorite arena for the monsters, fairies, genii, and other beings of
Chinese legendary lore, and is the Olympus where the Buddhist and
Taoist divinities hold their mystic sway, strange voices are heard, and
marvels accomplished.[5]
From near the head-waters of the Yellow River, the four ridges run
south-easterly, and converge hard by the confines of Burmah and Yunnan,
within an area about one hundred miles in breadth. The Yun ling range
constitutes the western frontier of Sz’chuen, and going south-east into
Yunnan, thence turns eastward, under the names of Nan ling, Mei ling,
Wu-í shan, and other local terms, passing through Kweichau, Hunan,
and dividing Kwangtung and Fuhkien from Kiangsí and Chehkiang, bends
north-east till it reaches the sea opposite Chusan. One or two spurs
branch off north from this range through Hunan and Kiangsí, as far as
the Yangtsz’, but they are all of moderate elevation, covered with
forests, and susceptible of cultivation. The descent from the Siueh
ling or Bayan-kara Mountains, and the western part of the Yun ling, to
the Pacific, is very gradual. The Chinese give a list of fifty peaks
lying in the provinces which are covered with snow for the whole or
part of the year, and describe glaciers on several of them.
Another less extensive ridge branches off nearly due east from the
Bayan-kara Mountains in Koko-nor, and forms a moderately high range of
mountains between the Yellow River and Yangtsz’ kiang as far as long.
112° E., on the western borders of Nganhwui; this range is called
Ko-tsing shan, and Peh ling (_i.e._, Northern Mountains), on European
maps. These two chains, viz., the Yun ling--with its continuation of
the Mei ling--and the Peh ling, with their numerous offsets, render the
whole of the western part of China very uneven.
~HING-AN AND HIMALAYA RANGES.~
On the east of Mongolia, and commencing near the bend of the Yellow
River, or rather forming a continuation of the range in Shansí, is the
Nui Hing-an ling or Sialkoi, called also Soyorti range, which runs
north-east on the west side of the basin of the Amur, till it reaches
the Wai Hing-an, in lat. 56° N. The sides of the ridge toward the
desert are nearly naked, but the eastern acclivities are well wooded
and fertile. On the confines of Corea a spur strikes off westward
through Shingking, called Kolmin-shanguin alin by the Manchus, and
Chang-peh shan (_i.e._, Long White Mountains) by the Chinese. Between
the Sialkoi and Sihota are two smaller ridges defining the basin of
the Nonni River on the east and west. Little is known of the elevation
of these chains except that they are low in comparison with the great
western ranges, and under the snow line.
The fourth system of mountains is the Himalaya, which bounds Tibet on
the south, while the Kwănlun and Burkhan Buddha range defines it on
the north. A small range runs through it from west to east, connected
with the Himalaya by a high table-land, which surrounds the lakes
Manasa-rowa and Ravan-hrad, and near or in which are the sources of
the Indus, Ganges, and Yaru-tsangbu. This range is called Gang-dis-ri
and Zang, and also Kailasa in Dr. Buchanan’s map, and its eastern end
is separated from the Yun ling by the narrow valley of the Yangtsz’,
which here flows from north to south. The country north of the
Gang-dis-ri is divided into two portions by a spur which extends in a
north-west direction as far as the Kwănlun,[6] called the Kara-korum
Mountains. On the western side of this range lies Ladak, drained by
one of the largest branches of the Indus, and although included in
the imperial domains on Chinese maps, has long been separated from
imperial cognizance. The Kara-korum Mountains may therefore be taken
as composing part of the boundary of the empire; Chinese geographers
regard them as forming a continuation of the Tsung ling.
~PUMPELLY’S SINIAN SYSTEM.~
This hasty sketch of the mountain chains in and around China needs to
be further illustrated by Pumpelly’s outlines of their general course
and elevation in what he suitably terms the _Sinian System_, applied
“to that extensive northeast-southwest system of upheaval which is
traceable through nearly all Eastern Asia, and to which this portion of
the continent owes its most salient features.” He has developed this
system in the _Researches in China, Mongolia and Japan_, issued by the
Smithsonian Institution in 1866. The mountains of China correspond in
many respects to the Appalachian system in America, and its revolution
probably terminated soon after the deposition of the Chinese coal
measures. Mr. Pumpelly describes the principal anticlinal axes of
elevation in China Proper, beginning with the Barrier Range, extending
through the northern part of Chihlí and Shansí, where it trends W.S.W.,
prolonging across the Yellow River at Pao-teh, and hence S.W. through
Shansí and Kansuh, coinciding with the watershed between the bend of
that river, which traverses it through an immense gorge.
The next axis east begins at the Tushih Gate, and goes S.W. to the
Nankau Pass, both of them in the Great Wall, and thence across Shansí
to the elbow of the Yellow River, and onward to Western Sz’chuen,
forming the watershed within the bend of the Yangtsz’. In the regions
between these two axes are found coal deposits. A central axis succeeds
this in Shansí, crossing the Yangtsz’ near Íchang, and passing on S.W.
through Kweichau to the Nan ling; going N.E., it runs through Honan
and subsides as it gets over the Yellow River, till in Shantung and
the Regent’s Sword it rises higher and higher as it stretches on to
the Chang-peh shan in Manchuria, and the ridge between the Songari and
Usuri rivers. Between the last two ranges lie the great coal, iron, and
salt deposits in the provinces, and each side of the central axis huge
troughs and basins occur, such as the valley of the Yangtsz’ in Yunnan,
the Great Plain in Nganhwui and Chihlí, the Gulf of Pechele, and the
basins of the Liao and Songari rivers.
The coast axis of elevation is indicated by ranges of granitic
mountains between Kiangsí and Kiangsu on the north, and Chehkiang and
Fuhkien on the south, extending S.W. through Kwangtung into the Yun
ling, and N.E. into the Chusan Archipelago, thence across to Corea and
the Sihota Mountains east of the Usuri River. An outlying granitic
range, reaching from Hongkong north-easterly to Wănchau, and S.W. to
Hainan Island, marks a fifth axis of elevation.
Crossing these anticlinal axes are three ranges, coming into China
Proper from the west in such a manner as to prove highly beneficial
to its structure. The northern is apparently a continuation of the
Bayan-kara Mountains in a S.E. direction into Kansuh, and south of
the river Wei into Honan, under the name of the Hiung shan or ‘Bear
Mountains.’ The centre is an offset from this, going across the north
of Hupeh. The southern appears to be a prolongation of the Himalaya
into Yunnan and Kwangsí, making the watershed between the Yangtsz’ and
Pearl river basins.
~THE DESERT OF GOBI.~
Between the Tien shan and the Kwănlun range on the south-west, and
reaching to the Sialkoi on the north-east, in an oblique direction,
lies the great desert of Gobi or Sha-moh, both words signifying a
_waterless plain_, or _sandy floats_.[7] The entire length of this
waste is more than 1,800 miles, but if its limits are extended to the
Belur-tag and the Sialkoi, at its western and eastern extremity, it
will reach 2,200 miles; the average breadth is between 350 and 400
miles, subject, however, to great variations. The area within the
mountain ranges which define it is over a million square miles, and
few of the streams occurring in it find their way to the ocean. The
whole of this tract is not a barren desert, though no part of it can
lay claim to more than comparative fertility; and the great altitude
of most portions seems to be as much the cause of its sterility as the
nature of the soil. Some portions have relapsed into a waste because of
the destruction of the inhabitants.
The western portion of Gobi, lying east of the Tsung ling and north of
the Kwănlun, between long. 76° and 94° E., and in lat. 36° and 41° N.,
is about 1,000 miles in length, and between 300 and 400 wide. Along
the southern side of the Tien shan extends a strip of arable land
from 50 to 80 miles in width, producing grain, pasturage, cotton, and
other things, and in which lie nearly all the Mohammedan cities and
forts of the _Nan Lu_. The Tarim and its branches flow eastward into
Lob-nor, through the best part of this tract, from 76° to 89° E.; and
along the banks of the Khoten River a road runs from Yarkand to that
city, and thence to H’lassa. Here the desert is comparatively narrow.
This part is called _Han hai_, or ‘Mirage Sea,’ by the Chinese, and is
sometimes known as the desert of Lob-nor. The remainder of this region
is an almost unmitigated waste, and north of Koko-nor assumes its most
terrific appearance, being covered with dazzling stones, and rendered
insufferably hot by the reflection of the sun’s rays from these and
numerous movable mountains of sand. Nor in winter is the climate milder
or more endurable. “The icy winds of Siberia, the almost constantly
unclouded sky, the bare saline soil, and its great altitude above
the sea, combine to make the Gobi, or desert of Mongolia, one of the
coldest countries in the whole of Asia.”[8]
The sandhills--_kuzupchi_, as the Mongols call them--appear north of
the Ala shan and along the Yellow River, and when the wind sets them
in motion they gradually travel before it, and form a great danger
to travellers who try to cross them. One Chinese author says, “There
is neither water, herb, man, nor smoke;--if there is no smoke, there
is absolutely nothing.” The limits of the actual desert are not
easily defined, for near the base of the mountain ranges, streams and
vegetation are usually found.
Near the meridian of Hami, long. 94° E., the desert is narrowed to
about 150 miles. The road from Kiayü kwan to Hami runs across this
narrow part, and travellers find water at various places in their
route. It divides Gobi into two parts--the desert of Lob-nor and the
Great Gobi--the former being about 4,500 feet elevation, and the latter
or eastern not higher than 4,000 feet. The borders of Kansuh now extend
across this tract to the foot of the Tien shan.
The eastern part, or Great Gobi, stretches from the eastern declivity
of the Tien shan, in long. 94° to 120° E., and about lat. 40° N., as
far as the Inner Hing-an. Its width between the Altai and the Ín shan
range varies from 500 to 700 miles. Through the middle of this tract
extends the depressed valley properly called Sha-moh, from 150 to
200 miles across, and whose lowest depression is from 2,600 to 2,000
feet above the sea. Sand almost covers the surface of this valley,
generally level, but sometimes rising into low hills. The road from
Urga to Kalgan, crossing this tract, is watered during certain seasons
of the year, and clothed with grass. It is 660 miles, and forty-seven
posts are placed along the route. The crow, lark, and sand-grouse are
abundant on this road, the first being a real pest, from its pilfering
habits. Such vegetation as occurs is scanty and stunted, affording
indifferent pasture, and the water in the small streams and lakes is
brackish and unpotable. North and south of the Sha-moh the surface
is gravelly and sometimes rocky, the vegetation more vigorous, and
in many places affords good pasturages for the herds of the Kalkas
tribes. In those portions bordering on or included in Chihlí province,
among the Tsakhars, agricultural labors are repaid, and millet, oats,
and barley are produced, though not to a great extent. Trees are met
with on the water-courses, but not to form forests. This region is
called _tsau-ti_, or Grassland, and maintains large herds of sheep
and cattle. It extends more or less northward towards Siberia. The
Etsina is the largest inland stream in this division of Gobi, but on
its north-eastern borders are some large tributaries of the Amur. On
the south of the Sialkoi range the desert-lands reach nearly to the
Chang-peh shan, about five degrees beyond those mountains. The general
features of this portion of the earth’s surface are less forbidding
than Sahara, but more so than the steppes of Siberia or the pampas
of Buenos Ayres. The whole of Gobi is regarded by Pumpelly as having
formed a portion of a great ocean, which, in comparatively recent
geological times, extended south to the Caspian and Black Seas, and
between the Ural and Inner Hing an Mountains, and was drained off by
an upheaval whose traces and effects can be detected in many parts.
“It appears to me,” he adds, “that the ancient physical geography
of this region, and the effects of its elevation, present one of the
most important fields of exploration.” It will no doubt soon be more
fully explored. Baron Richthofen describes Central Asia as properly
a shallow trough, 1,800 miles long and about 400 miles wide, whose
bottom is about 1,800 feet above the ocean; its ancient shore-line
extended between the Kwănlun and Tien shan ranges on the west, from
5,000 to 10,000 feet high, and gradually falling to 3,600 feet in
its eastern shore. This is the _Han-hai_; eastward is _Sha-moh_, and
outside of both these wildernesses are the peripheral regions, where
the waters flow to the ocean, carrying their silt, the erosions from
the mountains. Inside of the shore-line nothing reaches the oceans, and
these results of degradation are washed or blown into the valleys, and
the country is buried in its own dust.[9]
The _rivers_ of China are her glory, and no country can compare with
her for natural facilities of inland navigation. The people themselves
consider that portion of geography relating to their rivers as the
most interesting, and give it the greatest attention. The four largest
rivers in the empire are the Yellow River, the Yangtsz’, the Amur, and
the Tarim; the Yaru-tsangbu also runs more than a thousand miles within
its borders.
~THE YELLOW RIVER.~
The _Hwang ho_, or ‘Yellow River,’ rises in the plain of Odontala,
called in Chinese _Sing-suh hai_, or ‘Starry Sea,’ from the numerous
springs or lakelets found there between the Shuga and Bayan-kara
Mountains, in lat. 35-1/3°, and about long. 96° E., and not a hundred
miles from the Yangtsz’. The Chinese popularly believe that the Yellow
River runs underground from Lob-nor to Sing-suh hai. In this region
are two lakes--the Dzaring and Oling, which are its fountains; and
its course is very crooked after it leaves them. It turns first south
30 miles, then east 160, then nearly west about 120, winding through
gorges of the Kwănlun; the river then flows north-east and east to
Lanchau in Kansuh, having gone about 700 miles in its devious line.
From Lanchau it turns northward along the Great Wall for 430 miles,
till deflected eastward by the Ín shan, on the edge of the plateau,
and incloses the country of the Ortous Mongols within this great bend.
A spur of the Peh ling forces it south, about long. 110° E., between
Shansí and Shensí, for some 500 miles, till it enters the Great Plain,
having run 1,130 miles from Lanchau. Through this loess region it
becomes tinged with the soil which imparts both color and name to it.
At the northern bend it separates in several small lakes and branches,
and during this part of its course, for more than 500 miles, receives
not a single stream of any size, while it is still so rapid, in
descending from the plateau, as to demand much care when crossing it
by boats. At the south-western corner of Shansí this river meets its
largest tributary, the Wei, which comes in from the westward after a
course of 400 miles, and is more available as a navigable stream than
any other of the affluents. The area of the whole basin is less than
that of the Yangtsz’, and may be estimated at about 475,000 square
miles; though the source of this stream is only 1,290 miles in a direct
line from its mouth, its numerous windings prolong its course to nearly
double that distance.
The great differences of level in winter and summer have always made
this river nearly useless, except as a drain; while the effect of the
long-continued deposit of silt along its lower level course has finally
choked the mouth altogether. This remarkable result has been hastened,
no doubt, by the dikes built along the banks to the east of Kaifung,
which thus forced the floods to fill up the channel, and pushed the
waters back over 500 miles to Honan-fu. Here the land is low, and the
refluent waters gradually worked their way through marshes and creeks
into the river Wei on the north bank, and thus found a north-east
channel into the Canal and the Ta-tsing River, till they reached the
Gulf of Pechele. A small part of these floods have perhaps gone south
into the head-waters of the river Hwai, and thence into Hung-tsih Lake;
but that lake has shrivelled, like its great feeder, and all its waters
flow into the Yangtsz’. The history of the Yellow River furnishes a
conclusive argument against diking a river’s banks to restrain its
floods. It has now reverted to the channel it occupied about fourteen
centuries ago.[10]
~THE YANGTSZ’ KIANG.~
Far more tranquil and useful is its rival, the Yangtsz’ kiang, called
also simply _Kiang_ or _Ta kiang_, the ‘River,’ or ‘Great River.’ It
is often erroneously named on western maps, Kyang Ku, which merely
means ‘mouth of the river.’ The sources of the Kiang are in the Tangla
Mountains and the Kwănlun range, and are placed on native maps in
three streams flowing from the southern side of the Bayan-kara. This
has been partly confirmed by Col. Prejevalsky. In January, 1873, he
reached the Murui-ussu (Tortuous River) in lat. 35°, long. 94°, at
its junction with the Napchitai, the northern of the three branches,
and found it 750 feet wide at that season. In spring, the river’s
bed there is filled up a mile wide. Its course thence is south-east,
receiving three other streams, all of which may be considered as its
head-waters. All their channels are over ten thousand feet above the
sea, but the ranges near them are under the snow-line. There is no
authentic account of its course from this union till it joins the
Yalung kiang in Sz’chuen, a distance of nearly 1,300 miles; but Chinese
maps indicate a south-easterly direction through the gorges of the Yun
ling, till it bursts out from the mountains in lat. 26° N., where it
turns north-east. During much of this distance it bears the name of the
Po-lai-tsz’. The Yalung River rises very near the Yellow River, and
runs parallel with the Kiang in a valley further east, flowing upwards
of 600 miles before they join. Great rafts of timber are floated down
both these streams, for sale at the towns further east, but no large
boats are seen on them before they leave the mountains. The town of
Batang, in Sz’chuen, on the road from H’lassa, is the first large
place on the river. The main trunk is called Kin sha kiang (_i.e._,
Golden-sand River), until it receives the Yalung in the southern part
of Sz’chuen, which the Chinese there regard as the principal stream of
the two. Beyond the junction, the united river is called Ta kiang as
far as Wuchang, in Hupeh, beyond which the people know it also as the
Chang kiang, or ‘Long River.’ They do not often call it Yangtsz’, which
is properly applied only to the reach from Nanking out to sea, which
lay within the old region of Yangchau. This name has been erroneously
written in Chinese, and thence translated ‘Son of the Ocean.’ The
French often call it the _Fleuve Bleu_, but the Chinese have no such
name. Its general course from Wuchang is easterly, receiving various
tributaries on both shores, until it discharges its waters at Tsungming
Island, by two mouths, in lat. 32° N., more than 1,850 miles from its
mouth in a direct line, but flowing nearly 3,000 miles in all its
windings.[11]
One of the largest and most useful of its tributaries in its lower
course is the Kan kiang in Kiangsí, which empties through the Poyang
lake, and continues the transverse communication from north to south,
connecting with the Grand Canal. The Tungting lake receives the Siang
and Yuen, which drain the northern sides of the Nan ling in Hunan; and
west of them is the Kungtan or Wu, which comes in with its surplus
waters from Kweichau. These are on the south; the Han in Hupeh, and the
Kialing, Min, and Loh in Sz’chuen, are the main affluents on the north,
contributing the drainage south of the Peh ling. The Grand Canal comes
in opposite Chinkiang, and from thence the deep channel, able to carry
the largest men-of-war on its bosom, finds its way to the Pacific. No
two rivers can be more unlike in their general features than these
two mighty streams. While the Yellow River is unsteady, the Yangtsz’
is uniform and deep in its lower course, and available for rafts from
Batang in the western confines of Sz’chuen, and for boats from beyond
Tungchuen in Yunnan, more than 1,700 miles from its mouth. Its great
body and depth afford ample room for ocean steam-ships 200 miles, as
far as Nanking, where in some places no bottom could be found at twenty
fathoms, while the banks are not so low as to be often injured by the
freshets, even when the flood is over thirty feet. At Pingshan above
Süchau in Sz’chuen, 1,550 miles from its mouth, Blakiston reckons the
river to be 1,500 feet above tide-water, which gives an average fall of
12 inches to a geographical mile; the inclination is increased to 19
inches in some portions, and it is this force which carries the silt
of this stream out to sea, but which is wanting in the Yellow River.
The fall of the Yangtsz’ is nearly double that of the Nile and Amazon,
and half that of the Mississippi. The amount of water discharged is
estimated at 500,000 cubic feet a second at Íchang, about 700 miles
up, and it may reasonably be concluded that at Tsungming it discharges
in times of flood a million cubic feet per second. Barrow calculated
the discharge of the Yellow River in 1798 to be 11,616 cubic feet per
second, when the current ran seven miles an hour. No river in the
world exceeds the Yangtsz’ for arrangement of subsidiary streams,
which render the whole basin accessible as far as the Yalung. When a
ship-canal has been dug around the gorges and rapids between Íchang and
Kwei, steam-vessels can ascend nearly two thousand miles. The area of
its basin is estimated at 548,000 square miles; and from its central
course, and the number of provinces through which it passes, it has
been termed the Girdle of China; while for its size, perennial and
ample supply of water, and accessibility for navigation, it ranks with
the great rivers of the world.[12]
Besides these two notable rivers, numerous others empty into the ocean
along the coast from Hainan to the Amur, three of which drain large
tracts of country, and afford access to many populous cities and
districts. The third basin is that south of the Nan ling to the ocean;
it is drained chiefly by the Chu kiang, and its form is much less
regular than those of the Yellow River and Yangtsz’. The Chu kiang or
Pearl River, like most of the rivers in China, has many names during
its course, and is formed by three principal branches, respectively
called East, North, and West rivers, according to the quarter from
whence they come. The last is by far the largest, and all of them are
navigable most of their length. They disembogue together at Canton, and
drain a region of not much less than 130,000 square miles, being all
the country east of the Yun ling and south of the Nan ling ranges. The
rivers in Yunnan, for the most part, empty into the Salween, Saigon,
Meikon, and other streams in Cochinchina. The Min, which flows by
Fuhchau, the Tsih, upon which Ningpo lies, the Tsientang, leading up
to Hangchau, and the Pei ho, or White River, emptying into the Gulf of
Pechele, are the most considerable among these lesser outlets in the
provinces; while the Liau ho and Yahluh kiang, discharging into the
Gulf of Liautung, are the only two that deserve mention in Southern
Manchuria. The difference between the number of river-mouths cutting
the Chinese coast and that of the United States is very striking,
resulting from the different direction of the mountain chains in the
interior.
~LAKES OF CHINA.~
The _lakes_ of China are comparatively few and small; all those in the
provinces of any size lie within the Plain, and are connected with
the two great rivers. The largest is the Tungting in Hunan, about 220
miles in circumference, through which the waters of the Siang and Yuen
rivers flow, and fill its channels and beds according to the season;
it is now the silted-up bed of a former inland sea in Hupeh, lying
on both sides of the Yangtsz’, and through which countless lakes,
creeks, and canals form a navigable network between that river and the
Han. The lake receives the silt as the tributaries flow on through
it, and discharge themselves along the deep outlet near Yohchau; this
depression altogether is about 200 miles long and 80 broad. About 320
miles eastward lies the Poyang Lake in Kiangsí, which also discharges
the surplus waters of the Kan into the Yangtsz’. It is nearly 90
miles long, and about 20 in breadth, inclosing within its bosom many
beautiful and populous islets. The scenery around this lake is highly
picturesque, and its trade and fisheries are more important than those
of the Tungting. The Yangtsz’ receives the waters of several other
lakes as it approaches the ocean, the largest of which are the Ta hu
or ‘Great Lake’ near Suchau, and the Tsau hu, lying on the northern
bank, between Nganking and Nanking; both these lakes join the river by
navigable streams, and the former is connected with the ocean by more
than one channel.
The only considerable lake connected with the Yellow River is the
Hungtsih in Kiangsu, situated near the junction of that river and the
Grand Canal, into which it discharges the drainings of the Hwai River;
it is more remarkable for the fleets of boats upon it than for scenery
in the vicinity. The larger part of the country between the mouths of
the two rivers is so marshy and full of lakes, as to suggest the idea
that the whole was once an enormous estuary where their waters joined,
or else that their deposits have filled up a huge lake which once
occupied this tract, leaving only a number of lesser sheets. Besides
these, there are small lakes in Chihlí and Shantung; also the _Tien_,
the _Sien_, and the _Tali_, of moderate extent, in Yunnan; all of them
support an aquatic population upon the fish taken from their waters.
The largest lake in Manchuria is the Hinkai-nor in Kirin, near the
source of the Usuri; the two lakes Hurun and Puyur, or Pir, in the
basin of the Nonni River, give their name to Hurun-pir, the western
district of Tsitsihar; but of the extent and productions of these
sheets of water little is known.
The regions lying north and south of Gobi contain many salt lakes, none
of them individually comparing with the Aral Sea, but collectively
covering a much larger extent, and most of them receiving the waters of
the streams which drain their own isolated basins. The peculiarities of
these little known parts, especially the depression on each side of the
Tien shan, are such as to render them among the most interesting fields
for geographical and geological research in the world. The largest one
in Turkestan is Lob-nor, stated to be a great marsh overgrown with
tall reeds and having a length of 75 miles and width of 15 miles.[13]
Bostang-nor, said to connect with this lake, is placed on Chinese maps
some 30 miles north of it. North of the Tien shan the lakes are larger
and more numerous; the Dzaisang, Kisil-bash and Issik-kul are the most
important. All these lakes are salt.
The whole region of Koko-nor is a country of lakes. The Oling and
Dzaring are among the sources of the Yellow River; and the _Tsing
hai_, or Azure Sea, better known as Koko-nor, gives its name to the
province. The Tengkiri-nor in Tibet lies to the north of H’lassa, and
is the largest sheet of water within the frontiers of the empire. In
its neighborhood are numerous small lakes extending northward into
Koko-nor. The Palti or Yamorouk is shaped like a ring, an island in its
centre occupying nearly the whole surface. Ulterior Tibet possesses
many lakes on both sides of the Gang-dis-ri range; the Yik and Paha,
near Gobi, are the largest, being only two of a long row of them south
of the Kwănlun range.
~BOUNDARIES OF THE PROVINCES.~
The Eighteen Provinces are bounded on the north-east by the colony
of Shingking, from which they are separated by the line of a former
palisade marking the boundary from the town of Shan-hai kwan to the
Hwang ho. Following this stream to its sources in the Ín shan, the
boundary then crosses these mountains and pursues a west and south-west
course, through the territories of roving Mongol tribes, until it
finds the Yellow River at the settlement of Hokiuh in Shensí. West of
this the Great Wall divides the provinces of Shensí and Kansuh from
the Mongolian deserts as far as the Kiayü Pass, beyond which lies the
desert of Gobi, called _Peh hai_ (North Sea) and _Hah hai_ (Black
Sea). On the east are the Gulf of Pechele and the Yellow Sea or _Hwang
hai_, also called _Tung hai_ (Eastern Sea) as far south as the Channel
of Formosa. This channel and the China Sea lie on the south-east and
south, as far as the Gulf of Tongking and the confines of Annam.
Kwangsí and Yunnan border on Annam and Siam on their south sides, while
Burmah marks the western frontier, but nearly the whole south-west and
western frontiers beyond Yunnan and Sz’chuen are possessed by small
tribes of uncivilized people, over whom neither the Chinese nor Burmese
have much real control. Koko-nor bounds Sz’chuen and Kansuh on their
western and south-western sides.
~CHARACTER OF THE COAST.~
The coast of China, from Hainan to the mouth of the Yangtsz’, is
bordered with multitudes of islands and rocky islets; from that point
northward to Liautung, the shores are low, and, except in Shantung,
the coast is rendered dangerous by shoals.
South of the Pei ho, along to the end of Shantung Promontory, the
coast is bolder, increasing in height after passing the Miautau
Islands, though neither side of the promontory presents any point
of remarkable elevation; Cape Macartney, at the eastern end, is a
conspicuous bluff when approaching it from sea. From this cape to the
mouth of the Tsientang River, near Chapu, a distance of about 400
miles, the coast is low, especially between the mouths of the Yangtsz’
and Yellow rivers, and has but few good harbors. Quicksands in the
regions near these rivers and the Bay of Hangchau render the navigation
dangerous to native junks. From Kitto Point, near Ningpo, down to
Hongkong, the shores assume a bolder aspect, and numerous small bays
and coves occur among the islands, affording safe refuge for vessels.
The aspect along this part is uninviting in the extreme, consisting
principally of a succession of yellowish cliffs and naked headlands,
giving little promise of the highly cultivated country beyond them.
This bleak appearance is caused by the rains washing the decomposed
soil off the surface; the rock being granite in a state of partial and
progressive disintegration, the loose soil is easily carried down into
the intervals. Another reason for its treeless surface is owing to the
practice of annually cutting the coarse grass for fuel, and after the
crop is gathered setting the stubble on fire, in order to manure the
ground for the coming year; the fire and thinness of the soil together
effectually prevent any large growth of trees or shrubbery upon the
hills.
The estuary of the Pearl River from the Bocca Tigris down to the
Grand Ladrones, a distance of 70 miles, and from Hongkong westerly to
the Island of Tungku, about 100 miles, is interspersed with islands.
The strait which separates Hainan from the Peninsula of Luichau has
been supposed to be the place called by Arabian travellers in the
ninth century the Gates of China, but that channel was probably near
the Chusan Archipelago. That group of fertile islands is regarded as
the broken termination of the continental range of mountains running
through Chehkiang.
The Island of Formosa, or Taiwan, connects the islands of Japan and
Lewchew with Luçonia. Between Formosa and the coast lie the Pescadores
or Panghu Islands, a group much less in extent and number than the
Chusan Islands. The Chinese have itineraries of all the places,
headlands, islands, etc., along the entire coast, but they do not
afford much information respecting the names of positions.[14]
The first objects that invite attention in the general aspect of
China Proper are the Great Plain in the north-east, and the three
longitudinal basins into which the country is divided by mountain
chains running east and west.[15] The three great rivers which drain
these basins flow through them very irregularly, but by means of their
main trunks and the tributaries, water communication is easily kept up,
not only from west to east along the great courses, but also across
the country. These natural facilities for inland navigation have been
greatly improved by the people, but they still, in most cases, await
the introduction of steam to assist them in stemming the rapid currents
of some of their rivers, and bringing distant places into more frequent
communication.
The whole surface of China may be conveniently divided into the
mountainous and hilly country and the Great Plain. The mountainous
country comprehends more than half of the whole, lying west of the
meridian of 112° or 114° (nearly that of Canton), quite to the borders
of Tibet. The hilly portion is that south of the Yangtsz’ kiang and
east of this meridian, comprising the provinces of Fuhkien, Kiangsí,
Kwangtung, and sections of Hunan and Hupeh. The Great Plain lies in the
north-east, and forms the richest part of the empire.
This Plain extends in length 700 miles from the Great Wall and Barrier
Range north of Peking to the confluence of Poyang Lake with the
Yangtsz’ in Kiangsí, lat. 30° N. The latter river is considered as
its southern boundary as far down as Nganking in Nganhwui, whence to
the sea it is formed by a line drawn nearly east through Hangchau.
The western boundary may be marked by a line drawn from Kingchau in
Hupeh (lat. 30° 36′), nearly north to Hwaiking, on the Yellow River,
and thence due north to the Great Wall, 50 miles north-west of Peking.
The breadth varies. North of lat. 35°, where it partly extends to the
Yellow Sea, and partly borders on the western side of Shantung, thence
across to the Bear Mountains and Shansí, its measure is between 150 and
250 miles; stating the average at 200 miles, this portion has an area
of 70,000 square miles. Between 34° and 35° the Plain enlarges, and in
the parallel of the Yellow River has a breadth of some 300 miles from
east to west; while further south, along the course of the Yangtsz’, it
reaches nearly 400 miles inland. Estimating the mean breadth of this
portion at 400 miles, there are 140,000 square miles, which, with the
northern part, make an area of about 210,000 square miles--a surface
seven times as large as that of Lombardy, and about the same area
as the plain of Bengal drained by the Ganges. The northern portion
in Chihlí up to the edge of the Plateau is mostly a deposit of the
yellow loess and alluvial on the river bottoms; that lying near the
coast in Kiangsu is low and swampy, covered by lakes and intersected
by water-courses. This portion is extremely fertile, and furnishes
large quantities of silk, tea, cotton, grain, and tobacco. The most
interesting feature of this Plain is the enormous population it
supports, which is, according to the census of 1812, not less than 177
millions of human beings, if the whole number of inhabitants contained
in the six provinces lying wholly or partly in it be included; making
it by far the most densely settled of any part of the world of the same
size, and amounting to nearly two-thirds of the whole population of
Europe.[16]
~THE GREAT WALL.~
The public works of China are probably unequalled in any land or by
any people, for the amount of human labor bestowed upon them; the
natural aspect of the country has been materially changed by them,
and it has been remarked that the Great Wall is the only artificial
structure which would arrest attention in a hasty survey of the surface
of the globe. But their usefulness, or the science exhibited in their
construction, is far inferior to their extent. The Great Wall, called
_Wan-lí Chang Ching_ (_i.e._, Myriad-mile Wall), was built by Tsin
Chí-hwangtí, in order to protect his dominions from the incursions of
the northern tribes. Some portions of it were already in existence,
and he formed the plan of joining and extending them along the whole
northern frontier to guard it. It was finished B.C. 204, having been
ten years in building, seven of which were done after the Emperor’s
death. This gigantic work was probably a popular one in the main, and
still remains as its own chief evidence of the energy, industry, and
perseverance of its builders, as well as their unwisdom and waste.
Its construction probably cost less than the usual sums spent by
European States for their standing armies. It commences at Shanhai
wei or Shanhai kwan (lat. 40°, long. 119° 50′), a coast town of some
importance as on the boundary between Chihlí and Shingking, and a place
of considerable trade. Lord Jocelyn describes the wall, when observed
from the ships, as “scaling the precipices and topping the craggy hills
of the country, which have along this coast a most desolate appearance.”
It runs along the shore for several miles, and terminates on the
beach near a long reef. Its course from this point is west, a little
northerly, along the old frontiers of the province of Chihlí, and then
in Shansí, till it strikes the Yellow River, in lat. 39-1/2° and long.
111-1/2°. This is the best built part, and contains the most important
gates, where garrisons and trading marts are established. Within the
province of Chihlí there are two walls, inclosing a good part of the
basin of the Sangkan ho west of Peking; the inner one was built by an
emperor of the Ming dynasty. From the point where it strikes the Yellow
River, near Pau-teh, it forms the northern boundary of Shensí, till
it touches that stream again in lat. 37°, inclosing the country of
the Ortous Mongols. Its direction from this point is north-west along
the northern frontier of Kansuh to its termination near Kiayü kwan,
through which the road passes leading to Hami.
From near the eastern extremity of the Wall in the province of Chihlí,
extending in a north-easterly direction, there was once a wooden
stockade or palisade, forming the boundary between Liautung and Kirin,
which has been often taken from its representation on maps as a
continuation of the Great Wall. It was erected by the Manchus, but has
long since become decayed and disused.
The entire length of the Great Wall between its extremities is 22-1/2
degrees of latitude, or 1,255 miles in a straight line; but its
turnings and doublings increase it to fully 1,500 miles. It would
stretch from Philadelphia to Topeka, or from Portugal to Naples, on
nearly the same latitude. The construction of this gigantic work is
somewhat adapted to the nature of the country it traverses, and the
material was taken or made on the spot where it was used. In the
western part of its course, it is in some places merely a mud or gravel
wall, and in others earth cased with brick.
The eastern part is generally composed of earth and pebbles faced
with large bricks, weighing from 40 to 60 lbs. each, supported on a
coping of stone. The whole is about 25 feet thick at the base, and
15 feet at the top, and varying from 15 to 30 feet high; the top is
protected with bricks, and defended by a slight parapet, the thinness
of which has been taken as proof that cannon were unknown at the time
it was erected. There are brick towers at different intervals, some
of them more than 40 feet high, but not built upon the Wall. These
are independent structures, usually about 40 feet square at the base,
diminishing to 30 at the top; at particular spots the towers are of two
stories.
The impression left upon the mind of a foreigner, on seeing this
monument of human toil and unremunerative outlay, is respect for
a people that could in any manner build it. Standing on the peak
at _Ku-peh Kau_ (Old North Gate), one sees the cloud-capped towers
extending away over the declivities in single files both east and west,
until dwarfed by miles and miles of skyward perspective as they dwindle
into minute piles, yet stand with solemn stillness where they were
stationed twenty centuries ago, as though condemned to wait the march
of time till their builders returned. The crumbling dike at their feet
may be followed, winding, leaping across gorges, defiles, and steeps,
now buried in some chasm, now scaling the cliffs and slopes, in very
exuberance of power and wantonness, as it vanishes in a thin, shadowy
line, at the horizon. Once seen, the Great Wall of China can never be
forgotten.
At present this remarkable structure is simply a geographical boundary,
and except at the Gates nothing is done to keep it in repair. Beyond
the Yellow River to its western extremity, the Great Wall, according
to Gerbillon, is mostly a mound of earth or gravel, about fifteen feet
in height, with only occasional towers of brick, or gateways made of
stone. At Kalgan portions of it are made of porphyry and other stones
piled up in a pyramidal form between the brick towers, difficult to
cross but easy enough to pull down. The appearance of this rampart at
Ku-peh kau is more imposing; the entire extent of the main and cross
walls in sight from one of the towers there is over twenty miles. In
one place it runs over a peak 5,225 feet high, where it is so steep as
to make one wonder as much at the labor of erecting it on such a cliff
as on the folly of supposing it could be of any use there as a defence.
The wall is most visited at Nan-kau (South Gate), in the Ku-yung Pass,
a remarkable Thermopyla fifteen miles in length, which leads from the
Plain at Peking up to the first terrace above it, and at one time was
guarded by five additional walls and gates, now all in ruins. From this
spot, the wall reaches across Shansí, and was built at a later period.
~THE GRAND CANAL.~
The other great public work is the Grand Canal, or _Chah ho_ (_i.e._,
river of Flood-gates), called also _Yun ho_ or ‘Transit River,’ an
enterprise which reflects far more credit upon the monarchs who
devised and executed it, than does the Great Wall, and if the time in
which it was dug, and the character of the princes who planned it, be
considered, few works can be mentioned in the history of any country
more admirable and useful. When it was in order, before the inflow of
the Yellow River failed, by means of its connection with its feeders,
an uninterrupted water communication across the country from Peking
to Canton existed, and goods and passengers passed from the capital
to nearly every large town in the basins of the two great rivers. The
canal was designed by Kublai to reach from his own capital as far as
Hangchau, the former capital of the Sung dynasty, and cannot be better
described than in Marco Polo’s language: “You must understand that the
Emperor has caused a water communication to be made from this city
[Kwa-chau] to Cambaluc, in the shape of a wide and deep channel dug
between stream and stream, between lake and lake, forming as it were
a great river on which large vessels can ply.”[17] The northern end
is a channel fourteen miles long, from Tung-chau up to Peking, which,
passing under the city walls, finishes its course of some 600 miles at
the palace wall, close by the British Legation; here it is called _Yu
ho_, or ‘Imperial River,’ but all boats now unlade at the eastern gate.
An abridged account of Davis’s observations[18] will afford a good idea
of its construction and appearance.
“Early on the 23d September, we entered the canal through two stone
piers and between very high banks. The mounds of earth in the immediate
vicinity were evidently for the purpose of effecting repairs, which,
to judge from the vestiges of inundation on either side, could not
be infrequent. The canal joins the Yu ho, which we had just quitted,
on its eastern bank, as that river flows towards the Pei ho. One of
the most striking features of the canal is the comparative clearness
of its waters, when contrasted with that of the two rivers on which
we had hitherto travelled; a circumstance reasonably attributable to
the depositions occasioned by the greater stillness of its contents.
The course of the canal at this point was evidently in the bed of a
natural river, as might be perceived from its winding course, and
the irregularity and inartificial appearance of its banks. The stone
abutments and flood-gates are for the purpose of regulating its waters,
which at present were in excess and flowing out of it. As we proceeded
on the canal, the stone flood-gates or sluices occurred at the rate of
three or four a day, sometimes oftener, according as the inequalities
in the surface of the country rendered them necessary....
“As we advanced, the canal in some parts became narrower, and the banks
had rather more of an artificial appearance than where we first entered
it, being occasionally pretty high; but still the winding course led
to the inference, that as yet the canal was for the most part only
a natural river, modified and regulated by sluices and embankments.
The distance between the stone piers in some of the flood-gates was
apparently so narrow as only just to admit the passage of our largest
boats. The contrivance for arresting the course of the water through
them was extremely simple; stout boards, with ropes fastened to each
end, were let down edgewise over each other through grooves in the
stone piers. A number of soldiers and workmen always attended at the
sluices, and the danger to the boats was diminished by coils of rope
being hung down at the sides to break the force of blows. The slowness
of our progress, which for the last week averaged only twenty miles a
day, gave us abundant leisure to observe the country....
“We now began to make better progress on the canal than we had hitherto
done. The stream, though against us, was not strong, except near the
sluices, where it was confined. In the afternoon we stopped at Kai-ho
chin (_i.e._, River-opening mart), so called, perhaps, because the
canal was commenced near here. On the 28th we arrived at the influx of
the Yun ho, where the stream turned in our favor, and flowed to the
southward, being the highest point of the canal, and a place of some
note. The Yun ho flows into the canal on its eastern side nearly at
right angles, and a part of its waters flow north and part south, while
a strong facing of stone on the western bank sustains the force of the
influx. At this point is the temple of the Dragon King, or genius of
the watery element, who is supposed to have the canal in his special
keeping. This enterprise of leading in this river seems to have been
the work of Sung Lí, who lived under Hungwu, the first emperor of the
Ming dynasty, about 1375. In his time, a part of the canal in Shantung
became so impassable that the coasting passage by sea began to be most
used. This was the very thing the canal had been intended to prevent;
Sung accordingly adopted the plan of an old man named Píying, to
concentrate the waters of the Yun ho and neighboring streams, and bring
them down upon the canal as they are at present. History states that
Sung employed 300,000 men to carry the plan into operation, and that
the work was completed in seven months. On both sides of us, nearly
level with the canal, were extensive swamps with a shallow covering of
water, planted with the Nelumbium; they were occasionally separated by
narrow banks, along which the trackers walked, and the width of the
canal sometimes did not exceed twenty-five yards. On reaching the part
which skirts the Tu-shan Lake, the left bank was entirely submerged,
and the canal confounded with the lake. All within sight was swamp,
coldness, and desolation--in fact, a vast inland sea, as many of the
large boats at a distance were hull down. The swamps on the following
day were kept out of sight by some decent villages on the high banks,
which from perpetual accumulation assumed in some places the aspect of
hills.
“A part of our journey on the first of October lay along a portion of
the canal where the banks, particularly to the right, were elaborately
and thoroughly faced with stone; a precaution which seemed to imply a
greater than ordinary danger from inundations. In fact, the lakes, or
rather floods, seemed to extend at present nearly to the feet of the
mountains which lay at a distance on our left. We were now approaching
that part of China which is exposed to the disastrous overflowings of
the Yellow River, a perpetual source of wasteful expenditure to the
government, and of peril and calamity to the people; it well deserves
the name of China’s Sorrow. We observed the repairs of the banks
diligently proceeding under the superintendence of the proper officer.
For this purpose they use the natural soil in combination with the
thick stalks of the gigantic millet.”
The canal reaches the Yellow River about 70 miles from its mouth;
but before leaving the lakes in the southern part of Shantung, it
used to run nearly parallel with that stream for more than a hundred
miles, and between it and the New Salt River during a good part of
this distance. It is hard to understand how, by natural causes, so
powerful a river, as it is described to be by the historians of both
the British embassies less than one hundred years ago, should have
become so completely choked up. The difference of level near Kaifung
is found to be so very little that the siltage there has been enough
to turn the current into the river Wei and elsewhere. When Amherst’s
embassy passed, the boats struck right across the stream, and gained
the opposite bank, about three-fourths of a mile distant, in less than
an hour. They drifted about two miles down, and then slowly brought up
against the current to the spot where the canal entered. This opening
was a sluice nearly a hundred yards across, and through it the waters
rushed into the river like a mill-race; the banks were constructed
of earth, strengthened with sorghum stalks, and strongly bound with
cordage. Sir John Davis remarks, with the instinct of a tradesman, as
he commends the perseverance and industry which had overcome these
obstacles, that if the science of a Brunel could be allowed to operate
on the Yellow River and Grand Canal, “a benefit might be conferred on
the Chinese that would more than compensate for all the evil that we
have inflicted with our opium and our guns.” The boats were dragged
through and up the sluice close to the bank by ropes communicating
with large windlasses worked on the bank, which safely, though slowly,
brought them into still water.
The distance between the Yellow and Yangtsz’ rivers is about ninety
miles, and the canal here is carried largely upon a raised work of
earth, kept together by retaining walls of stone, and not less than
twenty feet above the surrounding country in some parts. This sheet
of water is about two hundred feet wide, and its current nearly three
miles an hour. South of the Hwang ho several large towns stand near the
levees, below their level, whose safety wholly depends upon the care
taken of the banks of the canal. Hwai-ngan and Pauying lie thus under
and near them, in such a position as to cause an involuntary shudder at
the thought of the destruction which would take place if they should
give way. The level descends from these towns to the Yangtsz’, and
at Yangchau the canal is much below the houses on its sides. It also
connects with every stream or lake whose waters can be led into it.
There are two or three inlets into the Yangtsz’ where the canal reaches
the northern bank, but Chinkiang, on the southern shore, is regarded
as the principal defence and post of its crossing. The canal leaves
the river east of that city, proceeds south-east to Suchau, and thence
southerly on the eastern side of lake Tai, with which it communicates,
to Hangchau in Chehkiang. This portion is by far the most interesting
and picturesque of the whole line, owing to its rich and populous
cities, the fertility and high cultivation of the banks, and the lively
aspect imparted by the multitude of boats. Though Kublai has had the
credit of this useful work, it existed in parts of its course long
before his day. The reach between the two great rivers was opened in
the Han dynasty, and repaired by the wise founder of the Sui dynasty
(A.D. 600). The princes of the Tang dynasty kept it open, and when the
Sung emperors lived at Hangchau they made the extension up to Chinkiang
the great highway which it is to this day. The work from Peking to the
Yellow River was opened by the Mongols about 1289, in which they merely
joined the rivers and lakes to each other as they now exist. The Ming
and Tsing emperors have done all they could to keep it open throughout,
and lately an attempt has been made to reopen the passage from Hungtsih
Lake north into the old bed, so that boats can reach Tientsin from
Kwachau. Its entire length is about 650 miles, or not quite twice that
of the Erie Canal, but it varies in its breadth and depth more than any
important canal either of America or Europe.
As a work of art, compared with canals now existing in western
countries, the Transit River does not rank high; but even at this
day there is no work of the kind in Asia which can compare with it,
and there was none in the world equal to it when first put in full
operation. It passes through alluvial soil in every part of its
course, and the chief labor was expended in constructing embankments,
and not in digging a deep channel. The junction of the Yun ho, about
lat. 36° N., was probably taken as the summit level. From this point
northward the trench was dug through to Lintsing to join the Yu
ho, and embankments thrown up from the same place southward to the
Yellow River, the whole being a line of two hundred miles. In some
places the bed is cut down thirty, forty, and even seventy feet,
but it encountered no material obstacle. The sluices which keep the
necessary level are of rude construction, and thick planks, sliding
in grooves hewn in stone buttresses, form the only locks. Still, the
objects intended are all fully gained, and the simplicity of the
means certainly does not derogate from the merit and execution of the
plan.[19]
~CANALS.~
There are some other inferior canals in the empire. Kienlung
constructed a waste-weir for carrying off the surplus waters of the
Yellow River of about a hundred miles in length, by cutting a canal
from Ífung hien in Honan, to one of the principal affluents of lake
Hungtsih. It also answered as a drain for the marshy land in that
part, and has probably recently served to convey the floods from the
main stream into the lake. In the vicinity of Canton and Suchau are
many channels cut through the plains, which serve both for irrigation
and navigation, but they are not worthy the name of canals. Similar
conveniences are more or less frequently met with in all parts of the
provinces, notably those on the Plain and low coast-lands.
[Illustration: A Road-Cut in the Loess.]
~PUBLIC ROADS.~
The public roads, in a country so well provided with navigable streams,
are of minor consequence, but these media of travel are not neglected.
“I have travelled near 600 leagues by land in China,” observes De
Guignes, “and have found many good roads, most of them wide and planted
with trees. They are not usually paved, and consequently in rainy
weather are either channelled by the water or covered with mud, and in
dry weather so dusty that travellers are obliged to wear spectacles to
protect their eyes. In Kwangtung transportation is performed almost
wholly by water, the only roads being across the lines of navigation.
The pass across the Mei ling is paved or filled up with stones; at
Kih-ngan, in Kiangsí, are paved roads in good condition, but beyond
the Yangtsz’, in Nganhwui, they were almost impracticable, but became
better as we proceeded northward, and in many places had trees on
both sides. Beyond the Hwang ho they were broader, and we saw crowds
of travellers, carts, mules, and horses. In Shantung and Chihlí they
were generally broad and shady, and very dusty. This is, no doubt,
disagreeable, but we went smoothly over these places, while in the
villages and towns we were miserably jolted on the pavements. I hope,
for the sake of those who may come after me, that the Chinese will
not pave their roads before they improve their carriages. Some of the
thoroughfares leading to Peking are paved with thick slabs of stone.
One feature of the roads through the northern provinces which attracts
attention is the great number that lie below the level of the country.
It is caused by the wind sweeping along them, and carrying over the
fields the dust made and raised by the carts. As soon as the pools left
by the rains dry enough to let the carts pass, the earth is reduced to
powder; as the winds sweep through the passage and clear it out, the
process in a few years cuts a defile through the loam often fifteen
feet deep, which impedes travel by its narrow gauge, hindering the
carts as they meet. The banks are protected by revetment walls or
turf, if necessary. Those near Hangchau, and the great road leading
from Chehkiang into Kiangsí, are all in good condition. Generally
speaking, however, as is the case with most things in China, the roads
are not well repaired, and large holes are frequently allowed to remain
unfilled in the path, to the great danger of those who travel by
night.”[20]
Mountain passes have been cut for facilitating the transit of goods and
people over the high ranges in many parts of the empire. The great road
leading from Peking south-west through Shansí and Shensí, and thence to
Sz’chuen, is carried across the Peh ling and the valley of the river
Hwai by a mountain road, “which, for the difficulties it presents and
the art and labor with which they have been overcome, does not appear
to be inferior to the road over the Simplon.”[21] At one place on this
route, called Lí-nai, a passage has been cut through the rock, and
steps hewn on both sides of the mountain from its base to the summit.
The passage across the peak being only wide enough for one sedan, the
guards are perched in little houses placed on poles over the pass. This
road was in ancient times the path to the metropolis, and these immense
excavations were made from time to time by different monarchs. The pass
over the Mei ling, at Nan-ngan, is a work of later date, and so are
most of the other roads across this range in Fuhkien and Kwangtung.
~GENERAL ASPECT AND RACE TYPES.~
The general aspect of the country is perhaps as much modified by labor
of man in China as in England, but the appearance of a landscape in the
two kingdoms is unlike. Whenever water is available, streams are led
upon the rice fields, and this kind of cultivation allows few or no
trees to grow in the plats. Such fields are divided by raised banks,
which serve for pathways across the marshy enclosure, and assist in
confining the water when let in upon the growing crop. The bounds of
other fields are denoted by stones or other landmarks, and the entire
absence of walls, fences, or hedgerows, makes a cultivated plain appear
like a vast garden.
The greatest sameness exists in all the cities. A wall encloses all
towns above a _sz’_ or township, and the suburbs are not unfrequently
larger than their enceinte. The streets in large towns south of the
Hwang ho are paved, and the sewers run under the cross slabs. What
filth is not in them is generally in the street, as these drains easily
become choked. The roadways are not usually over ten feet wide, but the
low houses on each side make them appear less like alleys than would be
the case in western cities. Villages have a pleasant appearance at a
distance, usually embowered among trees, between which the whitewashed
houses look prettily; but on entering them one is disappointed at
their irregularity, dirtiness, and generally decayed look. The gardens
and best houses are mostly walled in from sight, while the precincts
of temples are the resort of idlers, beggars, and children, with a
proportion of pigs and dogs.
Elegance or ornament, orderly arrangement and grandeur of design,
cleanliness, or comfort, as these terms are applied in Europe, are
almost unknown in Chinese houses, cities, or gardens. Commanding or
agreeable situations are chosen for temples and monasteries, which are
not only the abode of priests but serve for inns, theatres, and other
purposes. The terrace cultivation sometimes renders the acclivities of
hills beautiful in the highest degree, but it does not often impart
a distinguishing feature to the landscape. A lofty solitary pagoda,
an extensive temple shaded by trees in the opening of a vale, a
commemorative _pai-lau_, or boats moving in every direction through
narrow creeks or on broad streams, are some of the peculiar lineaments
of Chinese scenery. No imposing mansions with beautiful grounds are
found on the skirts of a town, for the people huddle together in
hamlets and villages for mutual aid and security. No tapering spires
pointing out the rural church, nor towers, pillars, domes, or steeples
in the cities, indicating buildings of public utility, rise upon the
low level of dun-tiled roofs. No meadows or pastures, containing herds
and flocks, are visible from the hill-tops in China; nor are coaches
or railroad cars observed hurrying across its landscapes. Steamers
have just begun to course through some of its rivers, and disturb, by
their whistles and wheels, the drowsy silence of past ages and the slow
progress of unwieldy junks--the other changes have yet to come.
The condition and characteristics of the various families of man
inhabiting this great empire, render its study far more interesting
than anything relating to its physical geography or public works. The
Chinese forms the leading family, but the Miaotsz’, the Li-mu, the
Kakyens, and other aborigines in the southern provinces, the Manchus,
the Mongols, and various Tartar tribes, the Tibetans, and certain wild
races in Kirin and Formosa, must not be overlooked. The sons of Han are
indeed a remarkable race, whether regard be had to their antiquity,
their numbers, their government, or their literature, and on these
accounts deserve the study and respect of every intelligent student of
mankind; while their unwearied industry, their general peaceableness
and good humor, and their attainments in domestic order and mechanical
arts, commend them to the notice of every one who sees in these points
of character an earnest of their future position amid the great family
of civilized nations when once they shall have attained the same.
The physical traits of the Chinese may be described as being between
the light and agile Hindu, and the muscular, fleshy European. Their
form is well built and symmetrical; their color is a brunette or
sickly white, rather approaching to a yellowish than to a florid tint,
but this yellow hue has been much exaggerated; in the south they are
swarthy but not black, never becoming as dark even as the Portuguese,
whose fifth or sixth ancestors dwelt near the Tagus. The shades of
complexion differ much according to the latitude and degree of exposure
to the weather, especially in the females. The hair of the head
is lank, black, coarse, and glossy; beard always black, thin, and
deficient; scanty or no whiskers; and very little hair on the body.
Eyes invariably black, and apparently oblique, owing to the slight
degree in which the inner angles of the eyelids open, the internal
canthi being more acute than in western races, and not allowing the
whole iris to be seen; this peculiarity in the eye distinguishes the
eastern races of Asia from all other families of man. There is a marked
difference between the features of the mixed race living south of the
Mei ling, and the inhabitants of the Great Plain and in Shansí or
further west; the latter are the finer appearing. The hair and eyes
being always black, a European with blue eyes and light hair appears
strange to them; one reason given by the people of Canton for calling
foreigners _fan kwei_, or ‘foreign devils,’ is, that they have sunken
blue eyes, and red hair like demons.
The cheek-bones are high, and the outline of the face remarkably round.
The nose is rather small, much depressed, nearly even with the face at
the root, and wide at the extremity; there is, however, considerable
difference in this respect, but no aquiline noses are seen. Lips
thicker than among Europeans, but not at all approaching those of the
negro. The hands are small, and the lower limbs better proportioned
than among any other Asiatics. The height of those living north of the
Yangtsz’ is about the same as that of Europeans. A thousand men taken
as they come in the streets of Canton, will hardly equal in stature
and weight the same number in Rome or New Orleans, while they would,
perhaps, exceed these, if gathered in Peking; their muscular powers,
however, would probably be less in either Chinese city than in those of
Europe or America.
In size, the women are smaller than European females; and in the eyes
of those accustomed to the European style of beauty, the Chinese women
possess little; the broad upper face, low nose, and linear eyes,
being quite the contrary of handsome. Nevertheless, the Chinese face
is not destitute of beauty, and when animated with good humor and
an expressive eye, and lighted by the glow of youth and health, the
features lose much of their repulsiveness. Nor do they fade so soon
and look as ugly and withered when old as some travellers say, but
are in respect to bearing children and keeping their vigor, more like
Europeans than the Hindus or Persians.
~ABORIGINAL TRIBES.~
The mountainous regions in Yunnan, Kwangsí, and Kweichau, give
lodgement to many clans of the Miaotsz’ or “children of the soil,” as
the words may be rendered. It is singular that any of these people
should have maintained their independence so long, when so large a
portion of them have partially submitted to Chinese rule. Those who
will not are called _săng Miaotsz’_, _i.e._, wild or ‘unsubdued,’
while the others are termed _shuh_ or ‘subdued.’ They present so many
physical points of difference as to lead one to infer that they are
a more ancient race than the Chinese around them, and the aborigines
of Southern China. They are rather smaller in size and stature, have
shorter necks, and their features are somewhat more angular. They
are divided into many tribes, and have been described by Chinese
travellers, who have illustrated their habits by paintings and
sketches, from which a good idea can be obtained of their condition.
Dr. Bridgman has translated such an account, written by a Chinese
native traveller, in which he sketches the manners of eighty-two clans,
especially those customs relating to worship and marriage, showing
how little they have learned from their rulers or improved from the
savage state. An examination of their languages shows that those of the
Miaotsz’ proper have strong affinities with the Siamese and Annamese,
and those known as _Lolo_ exhibit a decided likeness to the Burmese.
The former of these are mentioned in Chinese history during 4,000
years; the latter about A.D. 250, when a Shan nation came under Chinese
influence in Yunnan, and was the object of a warlike expedition. The
same race still remain on the Upper Irrawadi and in Assam as Shans and
Khamti, and in the basins of the Meinam and Mei-lung, all of them akin
to the Tibetans and Burmese. They form together an interesting relic of
the ancient peoples of the land, and further inquiries will doubtless
develop something of their history and origin.[22]
An aboriginal race--the _Li-mu_--exists in the centre of Hainan, an
offset from the Miaotsz’, judging by the little that is known of their
language. The natives of Formosa seem to have more affinity with their
neighbors in Luzon and southward than with the Chinese.
~MANCHUS AND MONGOLS.~
The Mongol and Manchu races have been considered as springing from
the same stock, but during centuries of separation under different
circumstances they have altered much. The Mongols are essentially
a nomadic race, while the Manchus are an agricultural or a hunting
people, according to the part of their country they inhabit. The
Manchus are of a lighter complexion and somewhat larger than the
Chinese, have the same conformation of the eyelids, but rather more
beard, while their countenances indicate greater intellectual capacity.
They seem to partake of both the Mongol and Chinese character,
possessing more determination and largeness of plan than the latter,
with much of the rudeness and haughtiness of the former. They have
fair, if not florid, complexions, straight noses, and, in a few cases,
brown hair and heavy beards. They are more allied to the Chinese, and
when they ruled the northern provinces as the Kin dynasty, amalgamated
with them. They may be regarded as the most improvable race in Central
Asia, if not on the continent; and the skill with which they have
governed the Chinese empire, and adopted a civilization higher than
their own, gives promise of still further advances when they become
familiar with the civilization of Christian lands.
Under the term Mongols or Moguls a great number of tribes occupying the
steppes of Central Asia are comprised. They extend from the borders of
the Khirgís steppe and Kokand eastward to the Sialkoi Mountains, and
it is particularly to this race that the name _Tartars_ or _Tatars_
is applicable. No such word is now known among the people, except as
an ignominious epithet, by the Chinese, who usually write it with
two characters--_tah-tsz’_--meaning ‘trodden-down people.’ Klaproth
confines the appellation of _Tartars_ to the Mongols, Kalmucks, Kalkas,
Eleuths, and Buriats, while the Kirghís, Usbecks, Cossacks, and Turks
are of Kurdish and _Turkoman_ origin.
The Mongol tribes generally are a stout, squat, swarthy, ill-favored
race of men, having high and broad shoulders, short, broad noses,
pointed and prominent chins, long teeth distant from each other, eyes
black, elliptical, and unsteady, thick, short necks, extremities bony
and nervous, muscular thighs, but short legs, with a stature nearly or
quite equal to the European. They have a written language, but their
literature is limited and mostly religious. The same language is spoken
by all the tribes, with slight variations and only a small admixture of
foreign words. Most of the accounts of their origin, their wars, and
their habits, were written by foreigners living or travelling among
them; but they themselves, as McCulloch remarks, know as little of
these things as rats or marmots do of their descent. Yet it is not so
easy to find the typical Mongol among the medley of nationalities in
their towns. A crowd in a town like Yarkand exhibits all the varieties
of the human race. The gaunt, almost beardless Manchu, with sunken
eyes, high cheek-bones, and projecting jowl, contrasts with the smooth
face, pinky yellow, oblique eye, flat cheeks, and rounded jowl of
the Chinese. The bearded, sallow Toork, the angular, rosy Kirghís,
the coarse, hard Dungani, and thick-lipped, square-faced Eleuth, all
show poorly with the tall, handsome Cashmerian, the swarthy Badakshi,
and robust, intelligent Uzbek. The fate of the vast swarms of this
race which have descended from the table-land of Central Asia and
overrun, in different ages, the plains of India, China, Syria, Egypt,
and Eastern Europe, and the rise and fall of the gigantic empire they
themselves erected under Genghis in the eleventh and twelfth centuries,
are among the most remarkable episodes in the world’s history. They
have always maintained the same character in their native wilds, their
conquests have been exterminations rather than subjugations, their
history a record of continual quarrels between clans.
The last of the five races is the Tibetan, who partake of the physical
characteristics of the Mongols and Hindus. They are short, squat, and
broad-shouldered in body, with angular faces, wide, high cheek-bones,
small black eyes, and scant beard. They are mild in disposition, have a
stronger religious feeling than the Chinese, and have never left their
own highlands either for emigration or conquest. Their civilization is
fully equal to that of the Siamese and Burmese, and life and property
are more secure with them than among their turbulent neighbors in
Butan, Lahore, or Cabul.
~CIVILIZATION PAST AND FUTURE.~
It will be seen from this short survey that a full account of the
geography, government, manners, literature, and civilization of so
large a part of the world and its inhabitants requires the combined
labors of many observers, all of them well acquainted with the
languages and institutions of the people whom they describe. No one
will look, therefore, for more than a brief outline of these subjects
in the present work, minute enough, however, to enable readers to form
a fair opinion of the people. It is the _industry_ of the Chinese which
has given them their high place among the nations of the earth. Not
only has the indigenous vegetation been superseded wherever culture
would remunerate toil, but lofty hills have been tilled and terraced
almost to their tops, cities have been built upon them, and extensive
ranges of wall erected along their summits. They practise all the
industrial arts whose objects are to feed, clothe, educate or adorn
mankind, and maintain the largest population ever united under one
system of rule. Ten centuries ago they were the most civilized nation
on earth, and the incredulity manifested in Europe, five hundred years
ago, at the recitals of Marco Polo regarding their condition, is the
counterpart of the sentiments now expressed by the Chinese when they
hear of the power and grandeur of western nations.
Isolated by natural boundaries from other peoples, their civilization,
developed under peculiar influences, must be compared to, rather
than judged of, by European. A people from whom some of the most
distinguishing inventions of modern Europe came (such as the compass,
porcelain, gunpowder, and printing), and were known and practised many
centuries earlier; who probably amount to more than three hundred
millions, united in one system of manners, letters, and polity; whose
cities and capitals rival in numbers the greatest metropoles of any
age; who have not only covered the earth, but the waters, with towns
and streets--such a nation must occupy a conspicuous place in the
history of mankind, and the study of their character and condition
commend itself to every well-wisher of his race.
It has been too much the custom of writers to overlook the influence
of the Bible upon modern civilization; but when a comparison is to be
drawn between European and Asiatic civilization, this element forces
itself upon the attention as the main cause of the superiority of the
former. It is not the civilization of luxury or of letters, of arts or
of priestcraft; it is not the spirit of war, the passion for money, nor
its exhibitions in trade and the application of machinery, that render
a nation permanently great and prosperous. “Christianity is the summary
of all civilization,” says Chenevix; “it contains every argument which
could be urged in its support, and every precept which explains its
nature. Former systems of religion were in conformity with luxury, but
this alone seems to have been conceived for the region of civilization.
It has flourished in Europe, while it has decayed in Asia, and the
most civilized nations are the most purely Christian.” Christianity is
essentially the religion of the people, and when it is covered over
with forms and contracted into a priesthood, its vitality goes out;
this is one reason why it has declined in Asia. The attainments of
the Chinese in the arts of life are perhaps as great as they can be
without this spring of action, without any other motives to industry,
obedience, and morality, than the commands or demands of the present
life.
A survey of the world and its various races in successive ages leads
one to infer that God has some plan of national character, and that one
nation exhibits the development of one trait, while another race gives
prominence to another, and subordinates the first. Thus the Egyptian
people were eminently a priestly race, devoted to science and occult
lore; the Greeks developed the imaginative powers, excelling in the
fine arts; the Romans were warlike, and the embodiment of force and
law; the Babylonians and Persians magnificent, like the head of gold in
Daniel’s vision; the Arabs predacious, volatile, and imaginative; the
Turks stolid, bigoted, and impassible; the Hindus are contemplative,
religious, and metaphysical; the Chinese industrious, peaceful,
literary, atheistic, and self-contained.[23] The same religion, and
constant intercommunication among European nations, has assimilated
them more than these other races ever could have become; but every one
knows the national peculiarities of the Spaniards, Italians, French,
English, etc., and how they are maintained, notwithstanding the motives
to imitation and coalescence. The comparison of national character
and civilization, with the view of ascertaining such a plan, is a
subject worthy the profound study of any scholar, and one which would
offer new views of the human race. The Chinese would be found to have
attained, it is believed, a higher position in general security of
life and property, and in the arts of domestic life and comfort among
the mass, and a greater degree of general literary intelligence, than
any other heathen or Mohammedan nation that ever existed--or indeed
than some now calling themselves Christian, as Abyssinia. They have,
however, probably done all they can do, reached as high a point as
they can without the Gospel; and its introduction, with its attendant
influences, will erelong change their political and social system. The
rise and progress of this revolution among so mighty a mass of human
beings will form one of the most interesting parts of the history of
the world during the nineteenth century, and solve the problem whether
it be possible to elevate a race without the intermediate steps of
disorganization and reconstruction.
FOOTNOTES:
[2] D’Herbelot, _Bibliothèque Orientale_, quarto edition, 1779, Tome
IV., p. 8. Yule, _Cathay and the Way Thither_, Vol. I., pp. xxxiv.,
lxviii. Edkins, _Chinese Buddhism_, p. 93.
[3] Or 21,759,974 sq. km.--_Gotha Almanach._
[4] Klaproth (_Mémoires sur l’Asie_, Tome II., p. 295) observes that
the name is derived from the abundance of onions found upon these
mountains. M. Abel-Rémusat prefers to attribute it to the “bluish tint
of onions.”
[5] Compare Rémusat, _Histoire de la Ville de Khotan_, p. 65, ff.
[6] One among many native names given to the Kwănlun, or Koulkun
Mountains, is _Tien chu_, 天柱 ‘Heaven’s Pillar,’ which corresponds
precisely with the _Atlas_ of China.
[7] Another interpretation makes Gobi (Kopi) to apply to the stony,
while Sha-moh denotes the sandy tracks of this desert, in which case
the name would more correctly read, “Great Desert of Gobi _and_
Sha-moh.”
[8] Col. Prejevalsky, _Travels in Mongolia_, etc. Vol. II., p. 22.
London, 1876.
[9] Von Richthofen, _China. Ergebnisse eigener Reisen, Band I._
_Berlin_, 1877.
[10] Report by Dr. W. A. P. Martin in _Journal of N. C. Branch of R.
A. Society_, Vol. III., pp. 33-38; 1866. Same journal, Vol. IV., pp.
80-86; 1867; Notes by Ney Elias. Pumpelly’s _Researches_, 1866, chap.
v., pp. 41-51.
[11] See the account of Père Laribe’s voyage on this river in 1843,
_Annales de la Propagation de la Foi_, Tome XVII., pp. 207, 286, ff.
_Five Months on the Yang-tsze_, by Capt. Thos. W. Blakiston; London,
1862. Pumpelly’s _Researches_, chap. ii., pp. 4-10. Capt. Gill, _The
River of Golden Sand_.
[12] Staunton’s _Embassy_, Vol. III., p. 233. Blakiston’s _Yang-tsze_,
p. 294, etc. _Chinese Repository_, Vol. II., p. 316.
[13] Prejevalsky, _From Kulja Across the Tien shan to Lob-nor_, p. 99.
[14] _Chinese Repository_, Vol. V., p. 337; Vol. X., pp. 351, 371.
Williams’ _Chinese Commercial Guide_, fifth edition, second part, 1863.
[15] Rémusat (_Nouveaux Mélanges_, Tome I., p. 9) adds a fourth basin,
that of the Sagalien. The latter, however, scarcely deserves the name,
having so many interrupting cross-chains.
[16] _Penny Cyclopædia_, Vol. VII., p. 74. McCulloch’s _Geographical
Dictionary_, Vol. I., p. 596.
[17] Yule’s _Marco Polo_, Vol. II., p. 136.
[18] _Sketches of China_, Vol. I., p. 245.
[19] Klaproth, _Mémoires_, Tome III., p. 312 _sqq._ De Guignes’
_Voyages à Peking_, Tome II., p. 195. Davis’s _Sketches_, Vol. I.,
_passim_.
[20] _Voyages à Peking_, Vol. II., p. 214. Compare the letter of
a Jesuit missionary (_Annales de la Foi_, Tome VII., p. 377), who
describes houses of rest on the wayside. These singular road-gullies
of the loess region have been very thoroughly examined by Baron von
Richthofen, from whose work the cut above is taken.
[21] _Penny Cyclopædia_, Vol. XXVII., p. 656.
[22] _Chinese Repository_, Vol. XIV., p. 105. _Shanghai Journal_,
No. III., 1859. _Journal of Indian Archipelago_, 1852. _Missionary
Recorder_, Vol. III., pp. 33, 62, 149, etc. T. T. Cooper, _Travels of
a Pioneer of Commerce_, passim.
[23] For observations on the Chinese as compared with other nations,
see Schlegel’s _Philosophy of History_, p. 118, Bohn’s edition.
CHAPTER II.
GEOGRAPHICAL DESCRIPTION OF THE EASTERN PROVINCES.
The provinces of China Proper are politically subdivided in a
scientific manner, but in the regions beyond them, these divisions
are considerably modified. Manchuria is regarded as belonging to the
reigning family, somewhat as Hanover once pertained to the kings of
England, and its scanty population is ruled by a simple military
organization, the higher officials being appointed by his majesty
himself. The khans of the Mongols in Mongolia and Ílí, the Mohammedan
begs in Turkestan, and the lamas in Tibet, are assisted in their rule
by Chinese residents and generals who direct and uphold the government.
The geography of foreign countries has not been studied by the Chinese;
and so few educated men have travelled even into the islands of the
Indian Archipelago, or the kingdoms of Siam, Corea, or Burmah, that the
people have had no opportunity to become acquainted with the countries
lying on their borders, much less with those in remoter parts, whose
names, even, they hardly know. A few native works exist on foreign
geography, among which four may be here noticed. “1. _Researches in
the East and West_, 6 vols. 8vo. It was written about two centuries
ago; the first volume contains some rude charts intended to show the
situation and form of foreign countries. 2. _Notices of the Seas_,
1 vol. Its author, Yang Ping-nan, obtained his information from a
townsman, who, being wrecked at sea, was picked up by a foreign ship,
and travelled abroad for fourteen years; on his return to China he
became blind, and was engaged as an interpreter in Macao. 3. _Notices
of Things heard and seen in Foreign Countries_, 2 vols. 12mo; written
about a century ago, containing among other things a chart of the
whole Chinese coast. 4. _The Memoranda of Foreign Tribes_, 4 vols.
8vo, published in the reign of Kienlung.”[24] A more methodical work is
that of Lí Tsing-lai, called ‘_Plates Illustrative of the Heavens_,’
being an astronomical and geographical work, much of whose contents
were obtained from Europeans residing in the country. But even if
the Chinese had better treatises on these subjects, the information
contained in them would be of little use until it was taught in
their schools. The high officers in the government begin now to see
the importance of a better acquaintance with general geography.
Commissioner Lin, in 1841, published a partial translation of Murray’s
_Cyclopædia of Geography_, in 20 volumes; Gov. Seu Ki-yu, in 1850,
issued a compend of geographical notices with maps, and many others,
more accurate and extensive, are now extant.
However scarce their geographical works upon foreign countries may
be, those delineating the topography of their own are hardly equalled
in number and minuteness in any language: every district and town of
importance in the empire, as well as every department and province, has
a local geography of its own. It may be said that the topographical and
statistical works form, after the ethical, the most valuable portion
of Chinese literature. It would not be difficult to collect a library
of 10,000 volumes of such treatises alone; the topography of the city
of Suchau, and of the province of Chehkiang, are each in 40 vols.,
while the _Kwangtung Tung Chí_, an ‘Historical and Statistical Account
of Kwangtung,’ is in 182 volumes. None of these works, however, would
bear to be translated entire, such is the amount of legendary and
unimportant matter contained in them; but they contain many data not to
be overlooked by one who undertakes to write a geography of China.
~CLIMATE OF THE PROVINCES.~
The _Climate_ of the Eighteen Provinces has been represented in
meteorological tables sufficiently well to ascertain its general
salubrity. Pestilences do not frequently visit the land, nor, as in
Southern India, is it deluged with rain during one monsoon, and parched
with drought during the other. The average temperature of the whole
empire is lower than that of any other country on the same latitude,
and the coast is subject to the same extremes as that of the Atlantic
States in America. The isothermal line of 70° F. as the average for
the year, which passes south of Canton, runs by Cairo and New Orleans,
eight degrees north of it; the line of 60° F. average passes from
Shanghai to Marseilles, Raleigh, St. Louis, and north of San Francisco;
and the line of 50° F. average goes near Peking, thence on to Vienna,
Dublin, Philadelphia, and Puget’s Sound, in lat. 52°. These various
lines show that while Shanghai and Peking have temperatures similar
to Raleigh and Philadelphia, nearly on their own parallels, Canton is
the coldest place on the globe in its latitude, and the only place
within the tropics where snow falls near the sea-shore. One result of
this projection of the temperate zone into the tropical is seen in the
greater vigor and size of the people of the three southern provinces
over any races on the same parallel elsewhere; and the productions are
not so strictly tropical. The isothermal lines for the year, as given
above, are not so irregular as those for winter. The line of 60° F.
runs by the south of Formosa and Hongkong, to Cairo and St. Augustine,
a range of nine degrees; but the winter line of 40° F. passes from
Shanghai to Constantinople, Milan, Dublin, and Raleigh, ending at
Puget’s Sound, a range of twenty degrees. A third line of 32° for
winter passes through Shantung to N. Tibet and the Black Sea, Norway,
New York, and Sitka--a range of twenty-five degrees.
Peking (lat. 39° 55′ N.) exhibits a fair average of the climate in
that part of the Plain. The extremes range from 104° to zero F., but
the mean annual temperature is 52.3° F., or more than 9° lower than
Naples; the mean winter range is 12° below freezing, or about 18° lower
than that of Paris (lat. 48° 50′), and 15° lower than Copenhagen. The
rainfall seldom reaches sixteen inches in a year, most of it coming
in July and August; the little snow that descends remains only two or
three days on the ground, and is blown away rather than melted; no
one associates white with winter, but snow is earnestly prayed for as
a purifier of the air against diphtheria and fevers. The winds from
the Plateau cause the barometer and thermometer to fall, but the
sky is clear. In the spring, as the heat increases, the winds raise
the dust and sand over the country; some of these sand-storms extend
even to Shanghai, carrying millions of tons of soil from its original
place. The dryness of the region has apparently increased during the
last century, and constant droughts destroy the trees, which by their
absence increase the desiccation now going on. Frost closes the rivers
for three months, and ice is cheap. After the second crops fully start
in August, the autumns become mild, and till the 10th of December are
calm and genial.[25]
The climate of the Plain is generally good, but near the rivers and
marshy grounds along the Grand Canal, agues and bowel complaints
prevail. A resident speaks of the temperature of Nanking and the
region around it: “This vast Plain being only a marsh half drained,
the moisture is excessive, giving rise to many strange diseases, all
of them serious, and not unfrequently mortal. The climate affects
the natives from other provinces, and Europeans. I have not known
one of the latter who was not sick for six months or a year after
his arrival. Every one who comes here must prepare himself for a
tertian or quotidian. For myself, after suffering two months from a
malignant fever, I had ten attacks of a malady the Chinese here call
the _sand_, from the skin being covered with little blackish pimples,
resembling grains of dust. It is prompt and violent in its progress,
and corrupts the blood so rapidly that in a few minutes it stagnates
and coagulates in the veins. The best remedy the people have is to
cicatrize the least fleshy parts of the body with a copper cash. The
first attack I experienced rendered all my limbs insensible in two
minutes, and I expected to die before I could receive extreme unction.
After recovering a little, great lassitude succeeded.”[26] The monsoons
form an important element in the seaside climate as far north as
latitude 31°. The dry and wet seasons correspond to the north-east and
south-west monsoons, assuaging the heats of summer by their cooling
showers, and making the winters bracing and healthy. Above the Formosa
Channel they are less regular in the summer than in winter.
~CLIMATE OF THE COAST TOWNS.~
The inhabitants of Shanghai suffer from rapid changes in the autumn and
spring months, and pulmonary and rheumatic complaints are common. The
maximum of heat is 100° F., and the minimum 24°, but ice is not common,
nor does snow remain long on the ground. The average temperature of the
summer is from 80° to 93° by day, and from 60° to 75° by night; the
thermometer in winter ranges from 45° to 60° by day, and from 36° to
45° by night.
Owing in some degree to the hills, the extremes are rather greater at
Ningpo than Shanghai. The thermometer ranges from 24° to 107° during
the twelvemonth, and changes of 20° in the course of two hours are
not unusual, rendering it the most unhealthy station along the coast.
There is a hot and cold season of three months each at this place.
The cold is very piercing when the north-east winds set in, and fires
are needed, but natives content themselves with additional clothing.
The large brick beds (_kang_) common in Chihlí are not often seen.
Ice forms in pools, and is gathered to preserve fish. Snow frequently
falls, but does not remain long. Occasionally it covers the hills
in Chehkiang for several weeks to the depth of six inches. Fuhchau
and Canton lie at the base of hills, within a hundred miles of the
sea-coast, and their climates exhibit greater extremes than Amoy and
Hongkong. Frost and ice are common every winter at each of the former,
and fires are therefore pleasant in the house. The extremes at Fuhchau
are from 38° to 95°, with an average of 56° during December and 82°
for August. Along this whole coast the most refreshing monsoon makes
the summers very agreeable. The climate of Amoy is delightful, but its
insular position renders a residence somewhat less agreeable than on
the main. Here the thermometer ranges from 40° to 96° during the year,
without the rapid changes of Ningpo. The heat continues longer, though
assuaged by breezes from the sea.
Meteorology at Canton and its vicinity has been carefully studied;
on the whole, its climate, and especially that of Macao, may be
considered more salubrious than in most other places situated between
the tropics. The thermometer at Canton in July and August stands on an
average at 80° to 88°, and in January and February at 50° to 60°. The
highest recorded observation in 1831 was 94°, in July; and the lowest,
29° in January. Ice sometimes forms in shallow vessels a line or two in
thickness, but no use is made of it. A fall of snow nearly two inches
deep occurred there in February, 1835, which remained on the ground
three hours. Having never seen any before, the citizens hardly knew
what was its proper name, some calling it _falling cotton_, and every
one endeavoring to preserve a little for a febrifuge. Another similar
fall occurred in the winter of 1861. Fogs are common during February
and March, and the heat sometimes renders them very disagreeable, it
being necessary to keep up a little fire to dry the house. Most of the
rain falls in May and June, but there is nothing like the rainy season
at Calcutta and Manilla in July, August, and September. The regular
monsoon comes from the south-west, with frequent showers to allay the
heat. In the succeeding months, northerly winds commence, but from
October to January the temperature is agreeable, the sky clear, and the
air invigorating. Few large cities are more healthy than Canton; no
epidemics nor malaria prevail, notwithstanding the fact that much of
the town is built upon piles.
The climate of Macao and Hongkong has not so great a range as
Canton, from their proximity to the sea. Few cities in Asia are more
salutiferous than Macao, though it has been remarked that few of the
natives there attain a great age. The maximum is 90°, with an average
summer heat of 84°. The minimum is 50°, and average winter weather 68°,
with almost uninterrupted sunshine. Fogs are not often seen here, but
on the river they prevail, being frequent at Whampoa. North-easterly
gales are common in the spring and autumn, and have a noticeable
periodicity of three days. The vegetation does not change its general
aspect during the winter, the trees cease to grow, and the grass
becomes brownish; but the stimulus of the warm moisture in March soon
makes a sensible difference in the appearance of the landscape, and
bright green leaves rapidly replace the old. The reputed insalubrity of
Hongkong, in early days, was owing to other causes than climate, and
when it became a well-built and well-drained town, its unwholesomeness
disappeared. The rain-fall is greater than in Macao, owing to the
attraction of the high peaks. During the rainy weather the walls of
houses become damp, and if newly plastered, drip with moisture.
The Chinese consider the provinces of Kwangtung, Kwangsí, and Yunnan to
be the most unhealthy of the eighteen, and for this reason employ them
as places of banishment for criminals from the north-eastern districts.
The central portions of the country are on some accounts the most
bracing, not so liable to sudden changes as the coast, nor so cold as
the western and northern districts. Sz’chuen and Kweichau are cooler
than Fuhkien and Chehkiang, owing to the mountains in and upon their
borders.
~RAIN-FALL ON CHINESE AND AMERICAN COASTS.~
The marked contrast between the Chinese and American coasts in regard
to rain is doubtless owing, in a great degree, to the outlying islands
from Formosa to Sagalien on the former, whose high mountains arrest
the clouds in their progress inland. The _Kuro-siwo_, being outside
of them, allows a far greater mass of cold water between it and the
shore on the Chinese, than is the case on the Atlantic coast, and
renders it the colder of the two by nearly eight degrees of latitude,
if isothermal lines alone are regarded. This mass of cold water,
having less evaporation, deprives the maritime provinces of rain in
diminishing supply as one goes north along the skirts of the Plain,
until the Chang-peh shan are reached. The rains which fall in the
western provinces and the slopes of the Bayan kara Mountains, coming up
from the Indian Ocean during the south-west monsoon, fall in decreasing
quantities as the clouds are driven north-east across the basins of the
Yangtsz’ and Yellow rivers. In the western part of Kansuh the humidity
covers the mountains with more vegetation than further east, toward
the ocean. Snow falls as late as June, and frosts occur in every month
of the year. The enormous elevation of the western side of China near
Tibet, the absence of an expanse of water like the great lakes, and the
bareness of the mountains north of the Mei ling, account for much of
this difference between the United States and China; but more extended
data are needed for accurate deductions.
The fall of rain at Canton is 70 inches annually, which is the mean of
sixteen years’ observation. Ninety inches was registered during one
of these years. Nearly one-half of the whole falls during May, June,
and September. The average at Shanghai for four years was 36 inches.
No observations are recorded for the valley of the Yangtsz’. Near the
edge of the Plateau the rainfall averages 16 inches in the province
of Chihlí, and rather more in Shansí and Shantung, where moisture is
attracted by the mountains. More than three-fourths of the rain falls
during the ten weeks ending August 31st. Snow seldom remains on the
level over a fortnight.
~TYFOONS.~
The increased temperature on the southern coast during the months of
June and July operates, with other causes, to produce violent storms
along the seaboard, called _tyfoons_, a word derived from the Chinese
_ta-fung_, or ‘great wind.’ These destructive tornadoes occur from
Hainan to Chusan, between July and October, gradually progressing
northward as the season advances, and diminishing in fury in the higher
latitudes. They annually occasion great losses to the native and
foreign shipping in Chinese waters, more than half the sailing ships
lost on that coast having suffered in them. Happily, their fury is
oftenest spent at sea, but when they occur inland, the loss of life is
fearful. In August, 1862, and September 21, 1874, the deaths reported
in two such storms near Canton, Hongkong, and their vicinity, were
upward of 30,000 each. In the latter instance the American steamer
Alaska, of 3,500 tons, was lifted from her anchorage and quietly put
down in five feet of water near the shore, from whence she was safely
floated some months afterward.
Tyfoons exhaust their force within a narrow track, which, in such cases
as have been registered, lies in no uniform direction, other than
from south to north, at a greater or less angle, along the coast. The
principal phenomena indicating their approach are the direction of the
wind, which commences to blow in soft zephyrs from the north, without,
however, assuaging the heat or disturbing the stifling calm, and the
falling barometer. The glass usually begins to fall several hours
before the storm commences, and the rarefaction of the air is further
shown by the heavy swell rolling in upon the beach, though the sea
remains unruffled. The wind increases as it veers to the north-east,
and from that point to south-east blows with the greatest force in
fitful gusts. The rain falls heaviest toward the close of the gale,
when the glass begins to rise. The barometer not unfrequently falls
below 28 _in._ Capt. Krusenstern in 1804 records his surprise at seeing
the mercury sink out of sight.
The Chinese have erected temples in Hainan to the Tyfoon Mother, a
goddess whom they supplicate for protection against these hurricanes.
They say “that a few days before a tyfoon comes on, a slight noise
is heard at intervals, whirling round and then stopping, sometimes
impetuous and sometimes slow. This is a ‘tyfoon brewing.’ Then fiery
clouds collect in thick masses; the thunder sounds deep and heavy.
Rainbows appear, now forming an unbroken curve and again separating,
and the ends of the bow dip into the sea. The sea sends back a
bellowing sound, and boils with angry surges; the loose rocks dash
against each other, and detached sea-weed covers the water; there is
a thick, murky atmosphere; the water-fowl fly about affrighted; the
trees and leaves bend to the south--the tyfoon has commenced. When to
it is superadded a violent rain and a frightful surf, the force of the
tempest is let loose, and away fly the houses up to the hills, and the
ships and boats are removed to the dry land; horses and cattle are
turned heels over head, trees are torn up by the roots, and the sea
boils up twenty or thirty feet, inundating the fields and destroying
vegetation. This is called _tieh kü_, or an _iron whirlwind_.”[27]
Those remarkable gusts which annually occur in the Atlantic States,
called _tornadoes_, defined as local storms affecting a thread of
surface a few miles long, are unknown in China. The healthy climate of
China has had much to do with the civilization of its inhabitants. No
similar area in the world exceeds it for general salubrity.
~FU, TING, CHAU, AND HIEN.~
The Chinese are the only people who have, by means of a term added
to the name of a place, endeavored to designate its relative rank.
Three of the words used for this purpose, viz., _fu_, _chau_, and
_hien_, have been translated as ‘first,’ ‘second,’ and ‘third’ rank;
but this gradation is not quite correct, for the terms do not apply to
the city or town alone, but to the portions of country of which it is
the capital. The nature of these and other terms, and the divisions
intended by them, are thus explained:
“The Eighteen Provinces are divided into _fu_, _ting_, _chau_, and
_hien_. A _fu_ is a large portion or department of a province, under
the general control of one civil officer immediately subordinate
to the heads of the provincial government. A _ting_ is a division
of a province smaller than a _fu_, and either like it governed
by an officer immediately subject to the heads of the provincial
government, or else forming a subordinate part of a _fu_. In the
former case it is called _chih-lí_, _i.e._ under the ‘direct rule’
of the provincial government; in the latter case it is simply called
_ting_. A _chau_ is a division similar to a _ting_, and like it
either independent of any other division, or forming part of a _fu_.
The difference between the two consists in the government of a _ting_
resembling that of a _fu_ more nearly than that of a _chau_ does:
that of the _chau_ is less expensive. The _ting_ and _chau_ of the
class to which the term _chih-lí_ is attached, may be denominated in
common with the _fu_, _departments_ or _prefectures_; and the term
_chih-lí_ may be rendered by the word _independent_. The subordinate
_ting_ and _chau_ may both be called _districts_. A _hien_, which
is also a _district_, is a small division or subordinate part of a
department, whether of a _fu_, or of an independent _chau_ or _ting_.
“Each _fu_, _ting_, _chau_, and _hien_, possesses at least one walled
town, the seat of its government, which bears the same name as the
department or district to which it pertains. Thus Hiangshan is the
chief town of the district Hiangshan hien; and Shauking, that of
the department Shauking fu. By European writers, the chief towns of
the _fu_ or departments have been called cities of the first order;
those of the _chau_, cities of the second order; and those of the
_hien_, cities of the third order. The division called _ting_, being
rarely met with, has been left out of the arrangement--an arrangement
not recognized in China. It must be observed that the chief town
of a _fu_ is always also the chief town of a _hien_ district; and
sometimes, when of considerable size and importance, it and the
country around are divided into two _hien_ districts, both of which
have the seat of their government within the same walls: but this
is not the case with the _ting_ and _chau_ departments. A district
is not always subdivided; instances may occur of a whole district
possessing but one important town. But as there are often large and
even walled towns not included in the number of chief or of district
towns, consequently not the seat of a regular _chau_ or _hien_
magistracy, a subdivision of a district is therefore frequently
rendered necessary; and for the better government of such towns
and the towns surrounding them, magistrates are appointed to them,
secondary to the magistrates of the departments or the districts in
which they are comprised. Thus Fuhshan is a very large commercial
town or mart called a _chin_, situated in the district of Nanhai, of
the department of Kwangchau, about twelve miles distant from Canton.
The chief officer of the department has therefore an assistant
residing there, and the town is partly under his government and
partly under that of the Nanhai magistrate, within whose district
it is included, but who resides at Canton. There are several of
these _chin_ in the provinces, as Kingteh in Kiangsí, Siangtan in
Hunan, etc.; they are not inclosed by walls. Macao affords another
instance: being a place of some importance, both from its size and
as the residence of foreigners, an assistant to the Hiangshan hien
magistrate is placed over it, and it is also under the control of an
assistant to the chief magistrate of the _fu_. Of these assistant
magistrates, there are two ranks secondary to the chief magistrate
of a _fu_, two secondary to the magistrate of a _chau_, and two also
secondary to the magistrate of a _hien_. The places under the rule
of these assistant magistrates are called by various names, most
frequently _chin_ and _so_, and sometimes also _chai_ and _wei_.
These names do not appear to have reference to any particular form of
municipal government existing in them; but the _chai_ and the _wei_
are often military posts; and sometimes a place is, with respect to
its civil government, the chief city of a _fu_, while with respect to
its military position it is called _wei_. There are other towns of
still smaller importance; these are under the government of inferior
magistrates who are called _siun kien_: a division of country under
such a magistrate is called a _sz’_, which is best represented by the
term township or _commune_. The town of Whampoa and country around
it form one such division, called Kiautang sz’, belonging to the
district of Pwanyu, in the department of Kwangchau.
“In the mountainous districts of Kwangsí, Yunnan, Kweichau, and
Sz’chuen, and in some other places, there are districts called _tu
sz’_. Among these, the same distinctions of _fu_, _chau_, and _hien_
exist, together with the minor division _sz’_. The magistrates of
these departments and districts are hereditary in their succession,
being the only hereditary local officers acknowledged by the supreme
government.
“There is a larger division than any of the above, but as it does
not prevail universally, it was not mentioned in the first instance.
It is called _tau_, a _course_ or _circuit_, and comprises two or
more departments of a province, whether _fu_, or independent _ting_
or _chau_. These circuits are subject to the government of officers
called _tau-tai_ or intendants of circuit, who often combine with
political and judicial powers a military authority and various duties
relating to the territory or to the revenue.”[28]
The eighteen provinces received their present boundaries and divisions
in the reign of Kienlung; and the little advance which has been
made abroad in the geography of China is shown by the fact, that
although these divisions were established a hundred years ago, the old
demarkations, existing at the time of the survey in 1710, are still
found in many modern European geographies and maps. The following table
shows their present divisions and government. The three columns under
the head of _Departments_ contain the _fu_, _chihlí ting_, and _chihlí
chau_, all of which are properly prefectures; the three columns under
the head of _Districts_ contain the _ting_, _chau_, and _hien_.
~TOPOGRAPHICAL DIVISIONS OF CHINA PROPER.~
--------------------+--------+-----------------+-----------------+
|AREA IN | DEPARTMENTS. | DISTRICTS. |
PROVINCES. |ENGLISH +-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+
|SQ. MLS.| Fu. |Ting.|Chau.|Ting.|Chau.|Hien.|
--------------------+--------+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+
NORTHERN PROVINCES. | | | | | | | |
| | | | | | | |
Chihlí | 58,949 | 11 | .. | 6 | 3 | 17 | 124 |
| | | | | | | |
Shantung | 65,104 | 10 | .. | 2 | .. | 9 | 96 |
Shansí | 55,268 | 9 | .. | 10 | 3 | 6 | 85 |
Honan | 65,104 | 9 | .. | 4 | .. | 6 | 97 |
| | | | | | | |
EASTERN PROVINCES. | | | | | | | |
| | | | | | | |
Kiangsu } | 92,961 | { 8 | 1 | 3 | 2 | 3 | 62 |
Nganhwui } | | { 8 | .. | 5 | .. | 4 | 50 |
Kiangsí | 72,176 | 13 | .. | 1 | 2 | 1 | 75 |
| | | | | | | |
| | | | | | | |
Chehkiang | 39,150 | 11 | .. | .. | 1 | 1 | 76 |
Fuhkien | 53,480 | 10 | .. | 2 | 3 | .. | 62 |
| | | | | | | |
CENTRAL PROVINCES. | | | | | | | |
| | | | | | | |
Hupeh } |144,770 | {10 | .. | 1 | .. | 7 | 60 |
Hunan } | | { 9 | 3 | 4 | .. | 3 | 64 |
| | | | | | | |
SOUTHERN PROVINCES. | | | | | | | |
| | | | | | | |
Kwangtung | 79,456 | 9 | 2 | 4 | 3 | 7 | 79 |
| | | | | | | |
Kwangsí | 78,250 | 11 | .. | 1 | 3 | 16 | 47 |
| | | | | | | |
Yunnan |107,969 | 14 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 27 | 39 |
Kweichau | 64,554 | 12 | 3 | 1 | 5 | 13 | 34 |
| | | | | | | |
WESTERN PROVINCES. | | | | | | | |
| | | | | | | |
Shensí } |154,008 | { 7 | .. | 5 | 5 | 5 | 73 |
Kansuh } | | { 9 | .. | 6 | 7 | 7 | 51 |
| | | | | | | |
| | | | | | | |
Sz’chuen |166,800 | 12 | 6 | 8 | 9 | 11 | 111 |
--------------------+--------+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+
--------------------+-----------------+-------------------------------
| |
PROVINCES. | CAPITAL. | GOVERNMENT.
| |
--------------------+-----------------+-------------------------------
NORTHERN PROVINCES. | |
| |
Chihlí | Pauting fu. | Ruled by a governor-general or
| | _tsungtuh_.
Shantung | Tsínan fu. } | Each separately ruled by a
Shansí | Taiyuen fu. } | lieutenant-governor or
Honan | Kaifung fu. } | _fuyuen_.
| |
EASTERN PROVINCES. | |
| |
Kiangsu } | Kiangning fu. } | Each under a lieutenant-governor,
Nganhwui } | Nganking fu. } | subordinate to one
Kiangsí | Nanchang fu. } | governor-general, called
| } | _Liang Kiang tsungtuh_.
| { | Each under a lieutenant-governor,
Chehkiang | Hangchau fu. { | subordinate to a
Fuhkien | Fuhchau fu. { | governor-general, called _Min
| { | Cheh tsungtuh_.
CENTRAL PROVINCES. | |
| |
Hupeh } | Wuchang fu. { | Each under a lieutenant-governor,
Hunan } | Changsha fu. { | subordinate to a governor-general,
| { | called _Liang Hu tsungtuh_.
SOUTHERN PROVINCES. | |
| |
Kwangtung | Kwangchau fu, } | Two lieutenant-governors,
| or Canton. } | subordinate to a governor-general,
Kwangsí | Kweilin fu. } | called _Liang Kwang tsungtuh_.
| |
Yunnan | Yunnan fu. { | Two lieutenant-governors, subordinate
Kweichau | Kweiyang fu. { | to a governor-general, called
| { | _Yun Kwei tsungtuh_.
WESTERN PROVINCES. | |
| |
Shensí } | Síngan fu. { | Under a governor-general, called
Kansuh } | Lanchau fu. { | _Shen Kan tsungtuh_, and one
| { | lieutenant-governor over Shensí.
| |
Sz’chuen | Chingtu fu. | Ruled by a governor-general.
--------------------+-----------------+-------------------------------
The province of CHIHLÍ is the most important of the whole. On foreign
maps it is sometimes written Pechele (_i.e._, North Chihlí), a name
formerly given it in order to distinguish it from Kiangnan, or
_Nan-chihlí_, in which the seat of government was once located. This
name is descriptive, rather than technical, and means ‘Direct rule,’
denoting that from this province the supreme power which governs the
empire proceeds; any province, in which the Emperor and court should
be fixed, would therefore be termed _Chihlí_, and its chief city
_King_, ‘capital,’ or _King-tu_ or _King-sz’_, ‘court of the capital.’
The surface of this province lying south of the Great Wall is level,
excepting a few ridges of hills in the west and north, while the
eastern parts, and those south to the Gulf, are among the flattest
portions of the Great Plain.
It is bounded on the north-east by Liautung, where for a short distance
the Great Wall is the frontier line; on the east by the Gulf of
Pechele; on the south-east and south by Shantung; on the south-west by
Honan; on the west by Shansí; and north by Inner Mongolia, where the
river Liau forms the boundary. The extensive region beyond the Wall,
occupied mostly by the Tsakhar Mongols, is now included within the
jurisdiction, and placed under the administration of officers residing
at one of the garrisoned gates of the Great Wall; the area of this
part is about half that of the whole province. The chief department
in the province, that of Shuntien, being both large and important, as
containing the metropolis, is divided into four _lu_ or circuits, each
under the rule of a sub-prefect, who is subordinate to the prefect
living at Peking.
Peking[29] (_i.e._, Northern Capital) is situated upon a sandy plain,
about twelve miles south-west of the Pei ho, and more than a hundred
miles west-north-west of its mouth, in lat. 39° 54′ 36″ N., and long.
116° 27′ E., or nearly on the parallel of Samarkand, Naples, and
Philadelphia. It is a city worthy of note on many accounts. Its ancient
history as the capital of the _Yen Kwoh_ (the ‘Land of Swallows’)
during the feudal times, and its later position as the metropolis of
the empire for many centuries, give it historical importance; while its
imperial buildings, its broad avenues with their imposing gates and
towers, its regular arrangement, extent, populousness, and diversity
of costume and equipage, combine to render it to a traveller the most
interesting and unique city in Asia. It is now ruinous and poor,
but the remains of its former grandeur under Kienlung’s prosperous
reign indicate the justness of the comparisons made by the Catholic
writers with western cities one hundred and eighty years ago. The
entire circuit of the walls and suburbs is reckoned by Hyacinthe at
twenty-five miles, and its area at twenty-seven square miles, but
more accurate measurements of the walls alone give forty-one _li_,
or 14.25 miles (or 23.55 kilometres) for the Manchu city, including
the cross-wall, and twenty-eight _li_, or ten miles, for the Chinese
city on its south; not counting the cross-wall, the circuit measures
almost twenty-one miles. The suburbs near the thirteen outer gates
altogether form a small proportion to the whole; the area within them
is nearly twenty-six square miles. Those residents who have had the
best opportunities estimate the entire population at a million or
somewhat less; no census returns are available to prove this figure,
nor can it be stated what is the proportion of Manchus, Mongols, and
Chinese, except that the latter outnumber all others. Du Halde reckoned
it to be about three millions, and Klaproth one million three hundred
thousand; and each was probably true at some period, for the number has
diminished with the poverty of the Government.
[Illustration: THE AN-TING GATE, WALL OF PEKING.]
~POSITION AND HISTORY OF PEKING.~
Peking is regarded by the Chinese as one of their ancient cities,
but it was not made the capital of the whole empire until Kublai
established his court at this spot in 1264. The Ming emperors who
succeeded the Mongols held their court at Nanking until Yungloh
transferred the seat of government to Peking in 1411, where it has
since remained. Under the Mongols, the city was called _Khan-baligh_
(_i.e._, city of the Khan), changed into Cambalu in the accounts of
those times; on Chinese maps it is usually called _King-sz’_.
Peking has, during its history, existed under many different names;
after each disaster her walls have been changed and her houses rebuilt,
so that to-day she stands, like the capitals of the ancient Roman and
Byzantine empires, upon the débris of centuries of buildings. The most
important renovations have been those by the Liao dynasty, in 937 A.D.,
who entirely rebuilt the city, and by the Kin rulers in 1151.
It was at first surrounded by a single wall pierced by nine gates,
whence it is sometimes called the City of Nine Gates. The southern
suburbs were inclosed by Kiatsing in 1543, and the city now consists
of two portions, the northern or inner city (_Nui ching_), containing
about fifteen square miles, where are the palace, government buildings,
and barracks for troops; and the southern or Outer city (_Wai ching_),
where the Chinese live. The wall of the Manchu city averages fifty
feet high, forty wide at top, and about sixty at bottom, most of the
slope being on the inner face. That around the Outer city is no more
than thirty in height, twenty-five thick at bottom, and about fifteen
at top. The terre-plein throughout is paved with bricks weighing
sixty pounds each; a crenellated parapet runs around the entire town,
intended only for archers or musketeers, as no port-holes for cannon
exist. It is undoubtedly the finest wall surrounding any city now
extant. Near the gates, of which there are sixteen in all, the walls
are faced with stone, but in other places with these large bricks, laid
in a concrete of lime and clay, which in process of time becomes almost
as durable as stone. The intermediate space between facings is filled
up with the earth taken from the ditch which surrounds the city. Square
buttresses occur at intervals of sixty yards on the outer face, each
projecting fifty feet, and every sixth one being twice the size of the
others; their tops furnish room for the troops posted there to resist
side attacks. Each gate is surmounted with a brick tower of many
stories, over a hundred feet high, built in galleries with port-holes,
and giving a very imposing appearance to the city as one approaches
it from the wide plain. The gates of the Manchu city have a double
entrance formed by joining their supporting bastions with a circular
wall in which are side entrances, thus making an enceinte of several
acres, in which the yellow-tiled temple to the tutelary God of War is
conspicuous. The arches of all the gates are built solidly of granite;
the massive doors are closed and barred every night soon after dark.
~GENERAL ASPECT OF THE CAPITAL.~
At the sides of the gates, and also between them, are esplanades for
mounting to the top; this is shut to the common people, and the guards
are not allowed to bring their women upon the wall, which would be
deemed an affront to Kwantí. The moat around the city is fed from the
Tunghwui River, which also supplies all the other canals leading across
or through the city. The approach to Peking from Tung chau is by an
elevated stone road, but nothing of the buildings inside the walls is
seen; and were it not for the lofty towers over the gates, it would
more resemble an encampment inclosed by a massive wall than a large
metropolis. No spires or towers of churches, no pillars or monuments,
no domes or minarets, nor even many dwellings of superior elevation,
break the dull uniformity of this or any Chinese city. In Peking, the
different colored yellow or green tiles on official buildings,[30]
mixed with the brown roofs of common houses, impart a variety to the
scene, but the chief objects to relieve the monotony are the large
clumps of trees, and the flag-staffs in pairs near the temples. The
view from the walls impresses one with the grand ideas of the founders
of the city; and the palaces in the Forbidden City, towering above
everything else, worthily exhibit their notions of what was befitting
the sovereigns of the Middle Kingdom. The Bell and Clock Towers, the
Prospect Hill, the dagobas, pagodas, and gate towers, and lastly the
Temple of Heaven, are all likewise visible from this point, and render
the scene picturesque and peculiar.[31]
[Illustration: MAP OF PEKING.
REFERENCES.
A. The Meridian Gate.
B. Gate of Extensive Peace.
C. Hall of Perfect Peace.
D. Hall of Secure Peace.
E. Palace of Heaven--the Emperor’s.
F. Palace of Earth’s Repose--the Empress’.
G. Gate to Earth’s Repose, leads to a Garden.
H. Ching-hwang miao.
I. Temple of Great Happiness.
J. Northern gate of Forbidden City.
K. Nui Koh, or Privy Council Chamber, lies within the wall.
K. Gate of Heavenly Rest.
L. Hall of Intense Mental Exercises.
M. Library, or Hall of Literary Abyss.
N. Imperial Ancestral Hall.
O. Hall of National Portraits.
P. Printing Office.
Q. Court of Controllers of Imperial Clan.
R. Marble Isle: a marble bridge leads to it.
S. Five Dragon Pavilion.
T. Great Ancestral Temple.
U. Altar to the Gods of Land and Grain.
V. Artificial Mountain. The Russian school lies just north of the
Eastern gate near N.
W. A summer-house.
X. Military Examination Hall.
Y. Plantain Garden, or Conservatory.
Z. A Pavilion.
_a._ Medical College.
_b._ Astronomical Board.
_c._ Five of the Six Boards. The Hanlin Yuen lies just above them.
_d._ House of the Russian Mission.
_e._ Colonial Office.
_f._ Temple for Imperial worship.
_g._ Imperial Observatory, partly on the wall.
_h._ Hall of Literary Examination.
_i._ Russian Church of the Assumption.
_j._ Temple of Eternal Peace of the lamas.
_k._ Kwoh Tsz’ Kien, a Manchu College.
_l._ Temple of the God of the North Star.
_m._ High Watch-tower and Police Office.
_n._ Board of Punishments.
_o._ Censorate.
_p._ Mohammedan Mosque.
_q._ Portuguese Church.
_r._ Elephant’s Inclosure.
_s._ Principal Ching-hwang miau.
_t._ Temple of Deceased Emperors of all ages.
_u._ Obelisk covering a scab of Buddha.
_v._ Altar to Heaven.--Altar to Earth is on the north of the city.
_w._ Altar to Agriculture.
_x._ Black Dragon Pool, and Temple of God of Rain.
_y._ Altar to the Moon.
_z._ Altar to the Sun.]
The plan of the city here given is reduced from a large Chinese map,
but is not very exact. The northern portion occupies for the most part
the same area as the Cambaluc of Marco Polo, which, however, extended
about two miles north, where the remains of the old north wall of the
Mongols still exist. On their expulsion Hungwu erected the present
northern wall, and his son Yungloh rebuilt the other three sides in
1419 on a rather larger scale; but the arrangement of the streets and
gates is due to the Great Khan. When taken possession of by the Manchus
in 1644, they found a magnificent city ready for them, uninjured and
strong, which they apportioned among their officers and bannermen; but
necessity soon obliged these men, less frugal and thrifty than the
natives, to sell them, and content themselves with humbler abodes;
consequently, the greater part of the northern city is now tenanted
by Chinese. The innermost inclosure in the _Nui Ching_ contains the
palace and its surrounding buildings; the second is occupied by
barracks and public offices, and by many private residences; the outer
one, for the most part, consists of dwelling-houses, with shops in
the large avenues. The inner inclosure measures 6.3 _li_, or 2.23
miles, in circuit, and is called _Tsz’ Kin Ching_, or ‘Carnation
Prohibited City;’ the wall is less solid and high than the city wall;
it is covered with bright yellow tiles, guarded by numerous stations
of bannermen and gendarmerie, and surrounded by a deep, wide moat.
Two gates, the _Tung-hwa_ and _Sí-hwa_, on the east and west, afford
access to the interior of this habitation of the Emperor, as well as
the space and rooms appertaining, which furnish lodgment to the guard
defending the approach to the Dragon’s Throne; a tower at each corner,
and one over each gateway, also give accommodation to other troops. The
interior of this inclosure is divided into three parts by two walls
running from south to north, and the whole is occupied by a suite of
court-yards and halls, which, in their arrangement and architecture,
far exceed any other specimens of the kind in China. According to the
notions of a common Chinese, all here is gold and silver; “he will tell
you of gold and silver pillars, gold and silver roofs, and gold and
silver vases, in which swim gold and silver fishes.”
~PALACES OF THE PROHIBITED CITY.~
The southern gate, called the _Wu Măn_, or ‘Meridian Gate,’ is the
fourth in going north from the entrance opposite the _Tsien Măn_,
and this distance of nearly half a mile is occupied by troops. The
_Wu Măn_ leads into the middle division, in which are the imperial
buildings; it is especially appropriated to the Emperor, and whenever
he passes through it, a bell placed in the tower above is struck; when
his troops return in triumph, a drum is beaten, and the prisoners are
here presented to him; here, too, the presents he confers on vassals
and ambassadors are pompously bestowed. Passing through this gate into
a large court, over a small creek spanned by five marble bridges,
ornamented with sculptures, the visitor is led through the _Tai-ho Măn_
into a second court paved with marble, and terminated on the sides by
gates, porticos, and pillared corridors. The next building, at the head
of this court, called the _Tai-ho tien_, or ‘Hall of Highest Peace,’
is a superb marble structure, one hundred and ten feet high, standing
on a terrace that raises it twenty feet above the ground; five flights
of stairs, decorated with balustrades and sculptures, lead up to it,
and five doors open through it into the next court-yard. It is a great
hall of seventy-two pillars, measuring about two hundred feet by ninety
broad, with a throne in the midst. Here the Emperor holds his levees on
New Year’s Day, his birthdays, and other state occasions; a cortége of
about fifty household courtiers stand near him, while those of noble
and inferior dignity and rank stand in the court below in regular
grades, and, when called upon, fall prostrate as they all make the
fixed obeisances. It was in this hall that Titsingh and Van Braam were
banqueted by Kienlung, January 20, 1795, of which interesting ceremony
the Dutch embassador gives an account, and since which event no
European has entered the building. The three _Tien_ in this inclosure
are the audience halls, and the side buildings contain stores and
treasures under the charge of the Household Board, with minor bureaus.
Beyond it are two halls; the first, the _Chung-ho tien_, or ‘Hall of
Central Peace,’ having a circular roof, that rests on columns arranged
nearly four-square. Here the Emperor comes to examine the written
prayers provided to be offered at the state worship. The second is the
_Pao-ho tien_, or ‘Hall of Secure Peace,’ elevated on a high marble
terrace, and containing nine rows of pillars. The highest degrees for
literary merit are here conferred triennially by the Emperor upon one
hundred and fifty or more scholars; here, also, he banquets his foreign
guests and other distinguished persons the day before New Year’s Day.
After ascending a stairway, and passing the _Kien Tsing Măn_, the
visitor reaches the _Kien Tsing Kung_, or ‘Palace of Heavenly Purity,’
into which no one can enter without special license. In it is the
council-chamber, where the Emperor usually sits at morning audience
up to eight o’clock, to transact business with his ministers, and see
those appointed to office. The building is the most important as it is
described to be the loftiest and most magnificent of all the palaces.
In the court before it is a small tower of gilt copper, adorned with
a great number of figures, and on each side are large incense vases,
the uses of which are no doubt religious. It was in this palace that
Kanghí celebrated a singular and unique festival, in 1722, for all the
men in the empire over sixty years of age, that being the sixtieth year
of his reign. His grandson Kienlung, in 1785, in the fiftieth year
of his reign, repeated the ceremony, on which occasion the number of
guests was about three thousand.[32] Beyond it stands the ‘Palace of
Earth’s Repose,’ where ‘Heaven’s consort’ rules her miniature court
in the imperial harem; there are numerous buildings of lesser size
in this part of the inclosure, and adjoining the northern wall of
the Forbidden City is the imperial Flower Garden, designed for the
use of its inmates. The gardens are adorned with elegant pavilions,
temples, and groves, and interspersed with canals, fountains, pools,
and flower-beds. Two groves rising from the bosoms of small lakes,
and another crowning the summit of an artificial mountain, add to the
beauty of the scene, and afford the inmates of the palace an agreeable
variety.
In the eastern division of the Prohibited City are the offices of
the Cabinet, where its members hold their sessions, and the treasury
of the palace. North of it lies the ‘Hall of Intense Thought,’ where
sacrifices are presented to Confucius and other sages. Not far from
this hall stands the _Wăn-yuen koh_, or the Library, the catalogue of
whose contents is published from time to time, forming an admirable
synopsis of Chinese literature. At the northern end of the eastern
division are numerous palaces and buildings occupied by princes of the
blood, and those connected with them; and in this quarter is placed the
_Fung Sien tien_, a small temple where the Emperor comes to ‘bless his
ancestors.’ Here the Emperor and his family perform their devotions
before the tablets of their departed progenitors; whenever he leaves
or returns to his palace, the first day of a season, and on other
occasions, the monarch goes through his devotions in this hall.
The western division contains a great variety of edifices devoted
to public and private purposes, among which may be mentioned the
hall of distinguished sovereigns, statesmen, and literati, the
printing-office, the Court of Controllers for the regulation of the
receipts and disbursements of the court, and the _Ching-hwang Miao_,
or ‘Guardian Temple’ of the city. The number of people residing within
the Prohibited City cannot be stated, but probably is not large; most
of them are Manchus.
~IMPERIAL CITY.~
The second inclosure, which surrounds the imperial palaces, is called
_Hwang Ching_, or ‘Imperial City,’ and is an oblong rectangle about six
miles in circuit, encompassed by a wall twenty feet high, and having a
gate in each face. From the southern gate, called the _Tien-an Măn_, or
‘Heavenly Rest,’ a broad avenue leads up to the _Kin Ching_; and before
it, outside of the wall, is an extensive space walled in, and having
one entrance on the south, called the gate of Great Purity, which no
one is allowed to enter except on foot, unless by special permission.
On the right of the avenue within the wall is a gateway leading to
the _Tai Miao_, or ‘Great Temple’ of the imperial ancestors, a large
collection of buildings inclosed by a wall 3,000 feet in circuit. It
is the most honored of religious structures next to the Temple of
Heaven, and contains tablets to princes and meritorious officers. Here
offerings are presented before the tablets of deceased emperors and
empresses, and worship performed at the end of the year by the members
of the imperial family and clan to their departed forefathers. Across
the avenue from this temple is a gateway leading to the _Shié-Tsih
tan_, or altar of the gods of Land and Grain. These were originally
_Kau-lung_, a Minister of Works, B.C. 2500, and _Hau-tsih_, a remote
ancestor of Chau Kung; here the Emperor sacrifices in spring and
autumn. This altar consists of two stories, each five feet high, the
upper one being fifty-eight feet square; no other altar of the kind
is found in the empire, and it would be tantamount to high treason to
erect one and worship upon it. The north, east, south, and west altar
are respectively black, green, red, and white, and the top yellow; the
ceremonies connected with the worship held here are among the most
ancient practised among the Chinese.
~PUBLIC BUILDINGS AND PARKS.~
On the north of the palace, separated by a moat, and surrounded by a
wall more than a mile in circuit, is the _King Shan_, or ‘Prospect
Hill,’ an artificial mound, nearly one hundred and fifty feet high,
and having five summits, crowned with as many temples; many of these
show the neglect in which public edifices soon fall. Trees of various
kinds border its base, and line the paths leading to the tops. Its
height allows the spectator to overlook the whole city, while, too,
it is itself a conspicuous object from every direction. The earth and
stone in it were taken from the ditches and pools dug in and around
the city, and near its base are many tanks of picturesque shape and
appearance; so that altogether it forms a great ornament to the city.
Another name for it is _Mei Shan_, or ‘Coal Hill,’ from a tradition
that a quantity of coal was placed there, as a supply in case of
siege. The western part of this inclosure is chiefly occupied by the
_Sí Yuen_, or ‘Western Park,’ in and around which are found some of
the most beautiful objects and spots in the metropolis. An artificial
lake, more than a mile long, and averaging a furlong in breadth,
occupies the centre; it is supplied from the Western Hills, and its
waters are adorned with the splendid lotus. A marble bridge of nine
arches crosses it, and its banks are shaded by groves of trees, under
which are well-paved walks. On its south-eastern side is a large
summer-house, consisting of several edifices partly in or over the
water, and inclosing a number of gardens and walks, in and around which
are artificial hills of rock-work beautifully alternating or supporting
groves of trees and parterres of flowers.
On the western side is the hall for examining military candidates,
where his majesty in person sees them exhibit their prowess in
equestrian archery. At the north end of the lake is a bridge leading
to an islet, which presents the aspect of a hill of gentle ascent
covered with groves, temples, and summer-houses, and surmounted with
a tower, from which an extensive view can be enjoyed. On the north of
the bridge is a hill on an island called _Kiung-hwa tan_, capped by
a white dagoba. Near by is an altar forty feet in circuit, and four
feet high, inclosed by a wall, and a temple dedicated to Yuenfí, the
reputed discoverer of the silk-worm, where the Empress annually offers
sacrifices to her; in the vicinity a plantation of mulberry trees and
a cocoonery are maintained. Near the temple of ‘Great Happiness,’ not
far distant from the preceding, on the northern borders of the lake, is
a gilded copper statue of _Maitreya_, or the coming Buddha, sixty feet
high, with a hundred arms; the temple is one of the greatest ornaments
of the Park. Across the lake on its western bank, and entered through
the first gate on the south side of the street, is the _Tsz’-kwang
Koh_, where foreign ministers are received by the Emperor; the
inclosure is kept with great care, and numerous halls and temples are
seen amidst groves of firs. The object kept in view in the arrangement
of these gardens and grounds has been to make them an epitome of
nature, and then furnish every part with commodious buildings. But
however elegant the palaces and grounds may have appeared when new, it
is to be feared that his majesty has no higher ideas of cleanliness
and order than his subjects, and that the various public and private
edifices and gardens in these two inclosures are despoiled of half
their beauty by dirt and neglect. The number of the palaces in them
both is estimated to be over two hundred, “each of which,” says
Attinet, in vague terms, “is sufficiently large to accommodate the
greatest of European noblemen, with all his retinue.”
Along the avenue leading south from the Imperial City to the division
wall, are found the principal government offices. Five of the Six
Boards have their bureaus on the east side, the Board of Punishments
with its subordinate departments being situated with its courts on
the west side; immediately south of this is the Censorate. The office
attached to the Board of Rites, for the preparation of the Calendar,
commonly called the Astronomical Board, stands directly east of this;
and the Medical College has its hall not far off. The _Hanlin Yuen_, or
National Academy, and the _Li-fan Yuen_, or Colonial Office, are also
near the south-eastern corner of the Imperial City. Opposite to the
Colonial Office is the _Tang Tsz’_, where the remote ancestors of the
reigning family are worshipped by his majesty together with the princes
of his family; when they come in procession to this temple in their
state dresses, the Emperor, as high-priest of the family, performs the
highest religious ceremony before his deified ancestors, viz., three
kneelings and nine knockings. After he has completed his devotions, the
attendant grandees go through the same ceremonies. The temple itself is
pleasantly situated in the midst of a grove of fir and other trees, and
the large inclosure around it is prettily laid out.
~BUDDHIST AND CONFUCIAN TEMPLES.~
In the south-eastern part of the city, built partly upon the wall,
is the Observatory, which was placed under the superintendence of
the Romish missionaries by Kanghí, but is now confided to the care
of Chinese astronomers. The instruments are arranged on a terrace
higher than the city wall, and are beautiful pieces of bronze art,
though now antiquated and useless for practical observations. Nearly
opposite to the Observatory stands the Hall for Literary Examinations,
where the candidates of the province assemble to write their essays.
In the north-eastern corner of the city is the Russian Mission and
Astronomical Office, inclosed in a large compound; near it live the
converts. About half a mile west is the _Yung-ho Kung_, or ‘Lamasary
of Eternal Peace,’ wherein about 1,500 Mongol and Tibetan priests
study the dogmas of Buddhism, or spend their days in idleness, under
the control of a _Gegen_ or living Buddha. Their course of study
comprises instruction in metaphysics, ascetic duties, astrology, and
medicine; their daily ritual is performed in several courts, and the
rehearsal of prayers and chants by so many men strikes the hearer as
very impressive. The rear building contains a wooden image, 70 feet
in height, of Maitreya, the coming Buddha; the whole establishment
exhibits in its buildings, pictures, images, cells, and internal
arrangements for study, living, and worship, one of the most complete
in the empire. Several smaller lamasaries occur in other parts of the
city.
[Illustration: Portal of Confucian Temple, Peking.]
Directly west of the _Yung-ho Kung_, and presenting the greatest
contrast to its life and activity, lies the Confucian Temple, where
embowered in a grove of ancient cypresses stands the imposing _Wăn
Miao_, or ‘Literary Temple,’ in which the Example and Teacher of all
Ages and ten of his great disciples are worshipped. The hall is 84
feet in front, and the lofty roof is supported on wooden pillars over
40 feet high, covering the single room in which their tablets are
placed in separate niches, he in the high seat of honor. All is simple,
quiet, and cheerless; the scene here presents an impressive instance of
merited honors paid to the moral teachers of the people. Opposite and
across the court are ten granite stones shaped like drums, which are
believed to have been made about the eighth century B.C., and contain
stanzas recording King Süen’s hunting expeditions. In another court are
many stone tablets containing the lists of _Tsin-sz’_ graduates since
the Mongol dynasty, many thousands of names with places of residence.
Contiguous to this temple is the _Pih-yung Kung_, or ‘Classic Hall,’
where the Emperor meets the graduates and literati. It is a beautiful
specimen of Chinese architectural taste. Near it are 300 stone tablets
on which the authorized texts of the classics are engraved.[33]
North of the Imperial City lies the extensive _yamun_ of the _Ti-tuh_,
who has the police and garrison of the city under his control, and
exercises great authority in its civil administration. The Drum and
Bell Towers stand north of the _Ti-ngan Măn_ in the street leading
to the city wall, each of them over a hundred feet high, and forming
conspicuous objects; the drum and bell are sounded at night watches,
and can be heard throughout the city; a clepsydra is still maintained
to mark time--a good instance of Chinese conservatism, for clocks are
now in general use, and correct the errors of the clepsydra itself.
~SHRINES OF ALL RELIGIONS.~
Outside of the south-western angle of the Imperial City stands the
Mohammedan mosque, and a large number of Turks whose ancestors were
brought from Turkestan about a century ago live in its vicinity; this
quarter is consequently the chief resort of Moslems who come to the
capital. South-west of the mosque, near the cross-wall, stands the _Nan
Tang_, or old Portuguese church, and just west of the Forbidden City,
inside of the _Hwang Ching_, is the _Peh Tang_, or Cathedral; both are
imposing edifices, and near them are large schools and seminaries for
the education of children and neophytes. There are religious edifices
in the Chinese metropolis appropriated to many forms of religion, viz.,
the Greek, Latin, and Protestant churches, Islamism, Buddhism in its
two principal forms, Rationalism, ancestral worship, state worship, and
temples dedicated to Confucius and other deified mortals, besides a
great number in which the popular idols of the country are adored. One
of the most worthy of notice is the _Tí-Wang Miao_, lying on the avenue
leading to the west gate, a large collection of halls wherein all the
tablets of former monarchs of China from remote ages are worshipped.
The rule for admission into this Walhalla is to accept all save the
vicious and oppressive, those who were assassinated and those who lost
their kingdoms. This memorial temple was opened in 1522; the Manchus
have even admitted some of the Tartar rulers of the Kin and Liao
dynasties, raising the total number of tablets to nearly three hundred.
It is an impressive sight, these simple tablets of men who once ruled
the Middle Kingdom, standing here side by side, worshipped by their
successors that their spirits may bless the state. This selection
of the good sovereigns alone recalls to mind the custom in ancient
Jerusalem of allowing wicked princes no place in the sepulchres of the
kings. Distinguished statesmen of all ages, called by the Chinese _kwoh
chu_, or ‘pillars of state,’ are associated with their masters in this
temple, as not unworthy to receive equal honors.
A little west of this remarkable temple is the _Peh-ta sz’_, or ‘White
Pagoda Temple,’ so called from a costly dagoba near it erected about
A.D. 1100, renovated by Kublai in the thirteenth century, and rebuilt
in 1819. Its most conspicuous feature is the great copper umbrella
on the top. When finished, the dagoba was described as covered
with jasper, and the projecting parts of the roof with ornaments
of exquisite workmanship tastefully arranged. Around this edifice,
which contains twenty beads or relics of Buddha, two thousand clay
pagodas and five books of charms, are also one hundred and eight small
pillars on which lamps are burned. The portion of the city lying
south of the cross-wall is inhabited mostly by Chinese, and contains
hundreds of _hwui-kwan_, or club-houses, erected by the gentry of
cities and districts in all parts of the empire to accommodate their
citizens resorting to the capital. Its streets are narrow and the whole
aspect of its buildings and markets indicates the life and industry
of the people. Hundreds of inns accommodate travellers who find no
lodging-places in the _Nui Ching_, and storehouses, theatres, granaries
and markets attract or supply their customers from all parts. There
is more dissipation and freedom from etiquette here, and the Chinese
officials feel freer from their Manchu colleagues.
~THE TEMPLE OF HEAVEN.~
Three miles south of the Palace, in the Chinese City, is situated the
_Tien Tan_, or ‘Altar to Heaven,’ so placed because it was anciently
customary to perform sacrifices to Heaven in the outskirts of the
Emperor’s residence city. The compound is inclosed by more than
three miles of wall, within which is planted a thick grove of locust
(_Sophora_), pine and fir trees, interspaced with stretches of grass.
Within a second wall, which surrounds the sacred buildings, rises a
copse of splendid and thickly growing cypress trees, reminding one of
the solemn shade in the vicinity of famous temples in Ancient Greece,
or of those celebrated shrines described in Western Asia. The great
South Altar, the most important of Chinese religious structures, is a
beautiful triple circular terrace of white marble, whose base is 210,
middle stage 150, and top 90 feet in width, each terrace encompassed
by a richly carved balustrade. A curious symbolism of the number three
and its multiples may be noticed in the measurements of this pile. The
uppermost terrace, whose height above the ground is about eighteen
feet, is paved with marble slabs, forming nine concentric circles--the
inner of nine stones inclosing a central piece, and around this each
receding layer consisting of a successive multiple of nine until the
square of nine (a favorite number of Chinese philosophy) is reached in
the outermost row. It is upon the single round stone in the centre of
the upper plateau that the Emperor kneels when worshipping Heaven and
his ancestors at the winter solstice.
Four flights of nine steps each lead from this elevation to the next
lower stage, where are placed tablets to the spirits of the sun, the
moon, the stars, and the Year God. On the ground at the end of the
four stairways stand vessels of bronze in which are placed the bundles
of cloth and sundry animals constituting part of the sacrificial
offerings. But of vastly greater importance than these in the matter of
burnt-offering is the great furnace, nine feet high, faced with green
porcelain, and ascended on three of its sides by porcelain staircases.
In this receptacle, erected some hundred feet to the south-east of the
altar, is consumed a burnt-offering of a bullock--entire and without
blemish--at the yearly ceremony. The slaughter-house of the sacrificial
bullock stands east of the North Altar, at the end of an elaborate
winding passage, or cloister of 72 compartments, each 10 feet in length.
Separated from the Altar to Heaven by a low wall, is a smaller though
more conspicuous construction called _Ki-kuh Tan_, or ‘Altar of Prayer
for Grain.’ Its proportions and arrangement are somewhat similar
to those of the South Altar, but upon its upper terrace rises a
magnificent triple-roofed, circular building known to foreigners as the
‘Temple of Heaven.’ This elaborate house of worship, whose surmounting
gilded ball rests 100 feet above the platform, was originally roofed
with blue, yellow and green tiles, but by Kienlung these colors were
changed to blue. When, added to these brilliant hues, we consider
the richly carved and painted eaves, the windows shaded by venetians
of blue-glass rods strung together, and the rare symmetry of its
proportions, it is no exaggeration to call this temple the most
remarkable edifice in the capital--or indeed in the empire. The native
name is _Ki-kien Tien_, or ‘Temple of Prayer for the Year.’ In the
interior, the large shrines of carved wood for the tablets correspond
to the movable blue wooden huts which on days of sacrifice are put
up on the Southern Altar. Here, upon some day following the first of
spring (Feb. 6), the Emperor offers his supplications to Heaven for a
blessing upon the year. In times of drought, prayer for rain is also
made at this altar, the Emperor being obliged to proceed on foot, as a
repentant suppliant, to the ‘Hall of Penitent Fasting,’ a distance of
three miles. A green furnace for burnt-offerings lies to the south-east
of this, as of the North Altar; while in the open park not far from the
two and seventy cloisters are seven great stones, said to have fallen
from heaven and to secure good luck to the country.
Across the avenue upon which is situated this great inclosure of the
_Tien Tan_, is the _Sien Nung Tan_, or ‘Altar dedicated to Shinnung,’
the supposed inventor of agriculture. These precincts are about two
miles in circumference, and contain four separate altars: to the gods
of the heavens, of the earth, of the planet Jupiter, and to Shinnung.
The worship here is performed at the vernal equinox, at which time the
ceremony of ploughing a part of the inclosed park is performed by the
Emperor, assisted by various officials and members of the Board of
Rites. The district magistrates and prefect also plough their plats;
but no one touches the imperial portion save the monarch himself. The
first two altars are rectangular; that to the gods of heaven, on the
east, is 50 feet long and 4-1/2 feet high: four marble tablets on it
contain the names of the gods of the clouds, rain, wind, and thunder.
That to the gods of earth is 100 feet long by 60 wide; here the five
marble tablets contain the names of celebrated mountains, seas, and
lakes in China. Sacrifices are offered to these divinities at various
times, and, with the prayers presented, are burned in the furnaces,
thus to come before them in the unseen world; the idea which runs
through them partakes of the nature of homage, not of atonement.
Nearly one-half of the Chinese City is empty of dwellings, much of the
open land being cultivated; a large pond for rearing gold-fish near the
_Tien Tan_ is an attractive place. West of this city wall is an old and
conspicuous dagoba in the _Tien-ning sz’_, nearly 200 feet high, and a
landmark for the city gate. This part of Peking was much the best built
when the Liao and Kin dynasties occupied it. West of the main city is
the Temple of the Moon, and on the east side, directly opposite, stands
the Temple to the Sun; the _Tí Tan_, or ‘Altar to Earth,’ is on the
north over against the Altar to Heaven, just described. At all these
the Emperor performs religious rites during the twelve months.
The inclosure of the Altar to Earth is smaller, and everything
connected with the sacrifices is on an inferior scale to those
conducted in the Altar to Heaven. The main altar has two terraces, each
6 feet high, and respectively 106 feet and 60 feet square; the tablet
to Imperial Earth is placed on the upper with those to the Imperial
Ancestors, and all are adored at the summer solstice. The bullock for
sacrifice is afterwards buried and not burned. Adjoining the terraced
altar on the south is a small tank for water.
~THE BELL TEMPLE AND HWANG SZ’.~
About two miles from the _Tí Tan_, in a northerly direction, passing
through one of the ruined gates of the Peking of Marco Polo’s time on
the way, is found the _Ta-chung sz’_, or ‘Bell Temple,’ in which is
hung the great bell of Peking. It was cast about 1406, in the reign of
Yungloh, and was covered over in 1578 by a small temple. It is 14 feet
high, including the umbones, 34 feet in circumference at the rim, and 9
inches thick; the weight is 120,000 lbs. av.; it is struck by a heavy
beam swung on the outside. The Emperor cast five bells in all, but this
one alone was hung. It is covered with myriads of Chinese characters,
both inside and out, consisting of extracts from the _Fah-hwa King_ and
_Ling-yen King_, two Buddhist classics. In some respects this may be
called the most remarkable work of art now in China; it is the largest
suspended bell in the world. A square hole in the top prevents its
fracture under the heaviest ringing.[34]
[Illustration: MONUMENT, OR TOPE, OF A LAMA. HWANG SZ’, PEKING.]
A short distance outside the northern gate, _Tah-shing Măn_, is an
open ground for military reviews, and near it a Buddhist temple of
some note, called _Hwang sz’_, containing in its enceinte a remarkable
monument erected by Kienlung. In 1779 the Teshu Lama started for Peking
with an escort of 1,500 men; he was met by the Emperor near the city
of Sí-ning in Kansuh, conducted to Peking with great honor, and lodged
in this temple for several months. He died here of small-pox, November
12, 1780, and this cenotaph of white marble was erected to his memory;
the body was inclosed in a gold coffin and sent to the Dalai Lama at
Lhassa in 1781. The plinth of this beautiful work contains scenes in
the prelate’s life carved on the panels, one of which represents a lion
rubbing his eyes with his paw as the tears fall for grief at the Lama’s
death.
~SUMMER PALACE AT YUEN-MING YUEN.~
The Summer Palace at _Yuen-ming Yuen_ lies about seven miles from the
north-west corner of Peking, and its entire circuit is reckoned to
contain twelve square miles. The country in this direction rises into
gentle hills, and advantage has been taken of the original surface
in the arrangement of the different parts of the ground, so that the
whole presents a great variety of hill and dale, woodlands and lawns,
interspersed with pools, lakes, caverns, and islets joined by bridges
and walks, their banks thrown up or diversified like the free hand of
nature. Some parts are tilled, groves or tangled thickets occur here
and there, and places are purposely left wild to contrast the better
with the cultivated precincts of a palace, or to form a rural pathway
to a retired temple or arbor. Here were formerly no less than thirty
distinct places of residence for various palace officials, around
which were houses occupied by eunuchs and servants, each constituting
a little village.
But all was swept away by the British and French troops in 1860, and
their ruins still remain to irritate the officials and people of Peking
against all foreigners. Near the Summer Palace is the great cantonment
of Hai-tien, where the Manchu garrison is stationed to defend the
capital, and whose troops did their best in the vain effort to stay the
attack in 1860. As a contrast to the proceedings connected with this
approach of the British, an extract from Sir John Davis’s _Chinese_
(chap. x.) will furnish an index of the changed condition of things.
“It was at a place called Hai-tien, in the immediate vicinity of these
gardens, that the strange scene occurred which terminated in the
dismissal of the embassy of 1816. On his arrival there, about daylight
in the morning, with the commissioners and a few other gentlemen, the
ambassador was drawn to one of the Emperor’s temporary residences by
an invitation from Duke Ho, as he was called, the imperial relative
charged with the conduct of the negotiations. After passing through
an open court, where were assembled a vast number of grandees in their
dresses of ceremony, they were shown into a wretched room, and soon
encompassed by a well-dressed crowd, among whom were princes of the
blood by dozens, wearing yellow girdles. With a childish and unmannerly
curiosity, consistent enough with the idle and disorderly life which
many of them are said to lead, they examined the persons and dress
of the gentlemen without ceremony; while these, tired with their
sleepless journey, and disgusted at the behavior of the celestials,
turned their backs upon them, and laid themselves down to rest. Duke Ho
soon appeared, and surprised the ambassador by urging him to proceed
directly to an audience of the Emperor, who was waiting for him. His
lordship in vain remonstrated that to-morrow had been fixed for the
first audience, and that tired and dusty as they all were at present,
it would be worthy neither of the Emperor nor of himself to wait on his
majesty in a manner so unprepared. He urged, too, that he was unwell,
and required immediate rest. Duke Ho became more and more pressing,
and at length forgot himself so far as to grasp the ambassador’s arm
violently, and one of the others stepped up at the same time. His
lordship immediately shook them off, and the gentlemen crowded about
him; while the highest indignation was expressed at such treatment,
and a determined resolution to proceed to no audience this morning.
The ambassador at length retired, with the appearance of satisfaction
on the part of Duke Ho, that the audience should take place to-morrow.
There is every reason, however, to suppose that this person had been
largely bribed by the heads of the Canton local government to frustrate
the views of the embassy, and prevent an audience of the Emperor. The
mission, at least, was on its way back in the afternoon of the same
day.”
The principal part of the provisions required for the supply of this
immense city comes from the southern provinces, and from flocks reared
beyond the wall. It has no important manufactures, horn lanterns,
wall papers, stone snuff-bottles, and pipe mouth-pieces, being the
principal. Trade in silks, foreign fabrics, and food is limited to
supplying the local demand, inasmuch as a heavy octroi duty at the
gates restrains all enterprise. No foreign merchants are allowed to
carry on business here. The government of Peking differs from that
of other cities in the empire, the affairs of the department being
separated from it, and administered by officers residing in the four
circuits into which it is divided. “A minister of one of the Boards
is appointed superintendent of the city, and subordinate to him is
a _fuyin_, or mayor. Their duties consist in having charge of the
metropolitan domain, for the purpose of extending good government to
its four divisions. They have under them two district magistrates, each
of whom rules half the city; none of these officers are subordinate to
the provincial governor, but carry affairs which they cannot determine
to the Emperor. They preside or assist at many of the festivals
observed in the capital, superintend the military police, and hold the
courts which take cognizance of the offences committed there.”[35]
~STREET SCENES AND FEATURES OF PEKING.~
The thoroughfares leading across Peking, from one gate to the other,
are broad, unpaved avenues, more than a hundred feet wide, which appear
still wider owing to the lowness of the buildings; the centre is about
two feet higher than the sides. The cross-streets in the main city
are generally at right angles with them, not over forty feet wide,
and for the most part occupied with dwellings. The inhabitants of the
avenues are required to keep them well sprinkled in summer; but in
rainy weather they are almost impassable from the mud and deep puddles,
the level surface of the ground, and obstructed, neglected drains,
preventing rapid drainage. The crowds which throng these avenues, some
engaged in various callings, along the sides or in the middle of the
way, and others busily passing and repassing, together with the gay
appearance of the sign-boards, and an air of business in the shops,
render the great streets of the Chinese metropolis very bustling, and
to a foreigner a most interesting scene. Shop-fronts can be entirely
opened when necessary; they are constructed of panels or shutters
fitting into grooves, and secured to a row of strong posts which set
into mortises. At night, when the shop is closed, nothing of it is
seen from without; but in the daytime, when the goods are exposed, the
scene becomes more animated.
The sign-boards are often broad planks, fixed in stone bases on each
side of the shop-front, and reaching to the eaves, or above them; the
characters are large and of different colors, and in order to attract
more notice, the signs are often hung with various colored flags,
bearing inscriptions setting forth the excellence of the goods. The
shops in the outer city are frequently constructed in this manner,
others are made more compact for warmth in winter, but as a whole they
are not brilliant in their fittings. Their signs are, when possible,
images of the articles sold and always have a red pennon attached; the
finer shop-fronts are covered with gold-leaf, brilliant when new, but
shabby enough when faded, as it soon does. The appearance of the main
streets exhibits therefore a curious mixture of decay and renovation,
which is not lessened by the dilapidated temples and governmental
buildings everywhere seen, all indicating the impoverished state of the
exchequer. In many parts of the city are placed _pai-lau_, or honorary
gateways, erected to mark the approach to the palace, and worthy,
by their size and ornamental entablatures, to adorn the avenues and
impress the traveller, if they were kept in good condition.
The police of the city is connected with the Bannermen, and is, on
the whole, efficient and successful in preserving the peace. During
the night the thoroughfares are quiet; they are lighted a little
by lanterns hanging before the houses, but generally are dark and
cheerless. In the metropolis, as in all Chinese cities, the air is
constantly polluted by the stench arising from private vessels and
public reservoirs for urine and every kind of offal, which is all
carefully collected by scavengers. By this means, although the streets
are kept clean, they are never sweet; but habit renders the people
almost insensible to this as well as other nuisances. Carts, mules,
donkeys and horses are to be hired in all the thoroughfares. The Manchu
women ride astride; their number in the streets, both riding and
walking, imparts a pleasant feature to the crowd, which is not seen in
cities further south. The extraordinary length and elaborateness of
marriage and funeral processions daily passing through the avenues,
adds a pretty feature to them, which other cities with narrow streets
cannot emulate.
The environs beyond the suburbs are occupied with mausolea, temples,
private mansions, hamlets, and cultivated fields, in or near which are
trees, so that the city, viewed from a distance, appears as if situated
in a thick forest. Many interesting points for the antiquarian and
scientist are to be found in and around this old city, which annually
attracts more and more the attention of other nations. Its population
has decreased regularly since the death of Kienlung in 1797, and is
now probably rather less than one million, including the immediate
suburbs. The climate is healthy, but subject to extremes from zero
to 104°; the dryness during ten months of the year is, moreover,
extremely irritating. The poor, who resort thither from other parts,
form a needy and troublesome ingredient of the population, sometimes
rising in large mobs and pillaging the granaries to supply themselves
with food, but more commonly perishing in great numbers from cold and
hunger. Its peace is always an object of considerable solicitude with
the imperial government, not only as it may involve the personal safety
of the Emperor, but still more from the disquieting effect it may have
upon the administration of the empire. The possession of this capital
by an invading force is more nearly equivalent to the control of the
country than might be the case in most European kingdoms, but not as
much as it might be in Siam, Burmah, or Japan. The good influences
which may be exerted upon the nation from the metropolis are likewise
correspondingly great, while the purification of this source of
contamination, and the liberalizing of this centre of power, now well
begun in various ways, will confer a vast benefit upon the Chinese
people.[36]
Chihlí contains several other large cities, among which Pauting,
the former residence of the governor-general, and Tientsin, are the
most important. The former lies about eighty miles south-west of the
capital, on the Yungting River and the great road leading to Shansí.
The whole department is described as a thoroughly cultivated, populous
region; it is well watered, and possesses two or three small lakes.
~TIENTSIN AND THE RIVER.~
Tientsin is the largest port on the coast above Shanghai. Owing,
however, to the shallowness of the gulf and the bar at the mouth of
the Pei ho, over which at neap tide only three or four feet of water
flow, the port is rendered inaccessible to large foreign vessels.
Its size and importance were formerly chiefly owing to its being the
terminus of the Grand Canal, where the produce and taxes for the use
of the capital were brought. Mr. Gutzlaff, who visited Tientsin in
1831, described it as a bustling place, comparing the stirring life and
crowds on the water and shores outside of the walls of the city with
those of Liverpool. The enormous fleet of grain junks carrying rice to
the capital is supplemented by a still greater number of vessels which
take the food up to Tung chau. Formerly the coast trade increased the
shipping at Tientsin to thousands of junks, including all which lined
the river for about sixty miles. This native trade has diminished since
1861, inasmuch as steamers are gradually ousting the native vessels,
no one caring to risk insurance on freight in junks. The country is
not very fertile between the city and the sea, owing to the soda and
nitre in the soil; but scanty crops are brought forth, and these only
after much labor; one is a species of grass (_Phragmites_) much used
in making floor-mats. Sometimes the rains cause the Pei ho and its
affluents to break over their banks, at which periods their waters
deposit fertilizing matter over large areas.
The approach to Tientsin from the eastward indicates its importance,
and the change from the sparsely populated country lying along the
banks of the Pei ho, to the dense crowds on shore and the fleets of
boats, adds greatly to the vivacity of its aspect. “If fine buildings
and striking localities are required to give interest to a scene,”
remarks Mr. Ellis, “this has no claims; but, on the other hand, if
the gradual crowding of junks till they become innumerable, a vast
population, buildings, though not elegant, yet regular and peculiar,
careful and successful cultivation, can supply these deficiencies,
the entrance to Tientsin will not be without attractions to the
traveller.”[37] The stacks of salt along the river arrest the attention
of the voyager; the immense quantity of this article collected at this
city is only a small portion of the amount consumed in the interior.
Tientsin will gradually increase in wealth, and now perhaps contains
half a million of inhabitants. Its position renders it one of the most
important cities in the empire, and the key of the capital.
Near the embouchure of the river is Ta-ku, with its forts and garrison,
a small town noticeable as the spot where the first interview between
the Chinese and English plenipotentiaries was held, in August, 1840;
and for three engagements between the British and Chinese forces in
1858, 1859, and 1860. The general aspect of the province is flat and
cheerless, the soil near the coast unproductive, but, as a whole, rich
and well cultivated, though the harvests are jeopardized by frequent
droughts.
The port of Peking is Tung chau on the Pei ho, twelve miles from the
east gate, and joined to it by an elevated stone causeway. All boats
here unload their passengers and freight, which are transported in
carts, wheelbarrows, or on mules and donkeys. The city of Tung chau
presents a dilapidated appearance amidst all its business and trade,
and its population depends on the transit of goods for their chief
support. The streets are paved, the largest of them having raised
footpaths on their sides. The houses indicate a prosperous community.
A single pagoda towers nearly 200 feet above them, and forms a waymark
for miles across the country. Tung chau is only 100 feet above the sea,
from which it is distant 120 miles in a direct line; consequently, its
liability to floods is a serious drawback to its permanent prosperity.
Another city of note is Siuenhwa fu, finely situated between the
branches of the Great Wall. Timkowski remarks, “the crenated wall which
surrounds it is thirty feet high, and puts one in mind of that of the
Kremlin, and resembles those of several towns in Russia; it consists
of two thin parallel brick walls, the intermediate space being filled
with clay and sand. The wall is flanked with towers. We passed through
three gates to enter the city: the first is covered with iron nails;
at the second is the guard-house; we thence proceeded along a broad
street, bordered with shops of hardware; we went through several large
and small streets, which are broad and clean; but, considering its
extent, the city is thinly peopled.”[38]
The department of Chahar, or Tsakhar, lies beyond the Great Wall, north
and west of the province, a mountainous and thinly settled country,
chiefly inhabited by Mongol shepherds who keep the flocks and herds of
the Emperor.[39]
~DOLON-NOR AND TOWNS IN THE NORTH.~
In the north-east of their grounds lies the thriving town of Dolon-nor
(_i.e._, Seven Lakes), or Lama-miao, of about 20,000 Chinese, founded
by Kanghí. The Buddhist temples and manufactories of bells, idols,
praying machines, and other religious articles found here, give it its
name, and attract the Mongols, whose women array themselves in the
jewelry made here. It is in latitude 42° 16′ N., about ten miles from
the Shangtu River, a large branch of the river Liao, on a sandy plain,
and is approached by a road winding among several lakes. North-west of
Dolon-nor are the ruins of the ancient Mongolian capital of Shangtu,
rendered more famous among English reading people by Coleridge’s
exquisite poem--
In Xanadu did Kubla Khan
A stately pleasure-dome decree:
Where Alph, the sacred river, ran
Through caverns measureless to man
Down to a sunless sea.
So twice five miles of fertile ground
With walls and towers were girdled round--
than by Marco Polo’s relation, which moved the poet to pen the lines.
It was planned as Mukden now is, an outer and inner wall inclosing
separate peoples, and its tumuli will probably furnish many tablets and
relics of the Mongol emperors, when carefully dug over. It was too far
from Peking for the Manchu monarchs to rebuild, and the Ming emperors
had no power there. It was visited in 1872 by Messrs. Grosvenor and
Bushell of the British Legation; Dr. Bushell’s description corroborates
Polo’s account and Gerbillon’s later notices of its size.[40]
There are several lakes, the largest of which, the Peh hu, in the
south-western part, connects with the Pei ho through the river
Hü-to. The various branches of the five rivers, whose united waters
disembogue at Ta-ku, afford a precarious water communication through
the southern half of Chihlí. Their headwaters rise in Shansí and beyond
the Great Wall, bringing down much silt, which their lower currents
only partially take out into the gulf; this sediment soon destroys the
usefulness of the channels by raising them dangerously near the level
of the banks. The utilization of their streams is a difficult problem
in civil engineering, not only here but throughout the Great Plain.
Near the banks of the Lan ho, a large stream flowing south from the
eastern slopes of the Chahar Hills, past Yungping fu into the gulf, and
about one hundred and seventy-four miles north of Ta-ku, lies Chingpeh,
or Jeh-ho, the Emperor’s country palace. The approach to it is through
a pass cut out of the rock, and resembles that leading to Damascus.
The imperial grounds are embraced by a high range of hills forming
a grand amphitheatre, which at this point is extremely fine. This
descent to the city presents new and captivating views at every turn of
the road. The hunting grounds are inclosed by a high wall stretching
twenty miles over the hills, and stocked with deer, elks, and other
game. The Buddhist temples form the chief attraction to a visitor. The
largest one is square and castellated, eleven stories high, and about
two hundred feet on each of its sides; the stories are painted red,
yellow and green alternating. There are several similar but smaller
structures below this one, and on each of the first two or three series
is a row of small chinaware pagodas of a blue color; their tiles are
likewise blue. In the bright sunlight the effect of these brilliant
bands is very good, and the general neatness adds to the pleasing
result of the gay coloring. Nearly a thousand lamas live about these
shrines. The town of Jeh-ho (_i.e._, Hot River) consists mostly of one
street coiling around the hills near the palace; its inhabitants are
of a higher grade than usual in Chinese cities, the greater part being
connected with the government. The road through Ku-peh kau in the Great
Wall from Peking to Jeh-ho is one of the best in the province, and the
journey presents a variety of charming scenery; its chief interest to
foreigners is connected with the visit there of Lord Macartney, in
1793.[41] This fertile prefecture is rapidly settling by Chinese, whose
numbers are now not far from two millions.
The principal productions of Chihlí are millet and wheat, sorghum,
maize, oats, and many kinds of pulse and fruits, among which are
pears, dried and fresh dates (_Rhamnus_), apples and grapes; all
these are exported. Coal, both bituminous and anthracite, exists in
great abundance; one mode of using hard coal is to mix its dust with
powdered clay and work them into balls and cakes for cooking and fuel.
The province also furnishes good marble, granite, lime, and iron, some
kinds of precious stones, and clay for bricks and pottery.
~SHANTUNG PROVINCE.~
The province of SHANTUNG (_i.e._, East of the Hills) has a long
coast-line, its maritime border being more than half its whole circuit.
It lies south of the Gulf of Pechele, south-east of Chihlí, north of
Kiangsu, and borders on Honan, where the Yellow River divides the two.
Most of its area is level, the hilly part is the peninsula portion,
where the highest points rise too high to admit of cultivation. The
Grand Canal enters the province on its course from Tientsin at Lintsing
chau in the north-west, passing in a south-easterly direction to the
old Yellow River, and adds greatly to its importance. The shores of the
promontory are generally bold, and full of indentations, presenting
several excellent harbors; no important river disembogues within the
province, and on each side of the peninsula the waters are shallow.
Chifu, in the prefecture of Tăngchau, has the best harbor, and its
trade will gradually draw toward it a large population. The hills along
the shore have a remarkably uniform, conical shape, resembling the
bonnets worn by officers. The hilly regions are arranged in a series of
chains running across the promontory, the longest and highest of which
runs with the general trend of the coast in Tai-ngan fu, some peaks
reaching over five thousand feet, but most of them being under three
thousand feet high. Their intervales are highly cultivated. The soil is
generally productive, except near the shores of the gulf, where it is
nitrous. Two crops are annually produced here as elsewhere in Northern
China. The willow, aspen, ailantus, locust (_Sophora_), oak, mulberry,
and conifera, are common trees; silk-worms fed on oak leaves furnish
silk.
This province is one of the most celebrated in Chinese history, partly
from its having been the scene of many remarkable events in the early
history of the people up to B.C. 200, but more particularly from its
containing the birthplaces of Confucius and Mencius, whose fame has
gone over the earth. The inhabitants of the province are proud of
their nativity on this score, much as the woman of Samaria was because
Jacob’s cattle had drunk water at the well of Sychar.
~TAI SHAN, THE ‘GREAT MOUNT.’~
The high mountain called Tai shan, or ‘Great mount,’ is situated near
Tai-ngan fu in this province. This peak is mentioned in the _Shu King_
as that where Shun sacrificed to Heaven (B.C. 2254); it is accordingly
celebrated for its historical as well as religious associations. It
towers high above all other peaks in the range, as if keeping solitary
watch over the country round-about, and is the great rendezvous of
devotees; every sect has there its temples and idols, scattered up and
down its sides, in which priests chant their prayers, and practise a
thousand superstitions to attract pilgrims to their shrines. During
the spring, the roads leading to the Tai shan are obstructed with long
caravans of people coming to accomplish their vows, to supplicate the
deities for health or riches, or to solicit the joys of heaven in
exchange for the woes of earth. A French missionary mentions having met
with pilgrims going to it, one party of whom consisted of old dames,
who had with infinite fatigue and discomfort come from the south of
Honan, about three hundred miles, to “remind their god of the long
abstinence from flesh and fish they had observed during the course
of their lives, and solicit, as a recompense, a happy transmigration
for their souls.” The youngest of this party was 78, and the oldest
90 years.[42] Another traveller says that the pilgrims resort there
during the spring, when there are fairs to attract them; high and
low, official and commoner, men and women, old and young, all sorts
gather to worship and traffic. A great temple lies outside the town,
whose grounds furnish a large and secure area for the tents where the
devotees amuse themselves, after they have finished their devotions.
The road to the summit is about five miles, well paved and furnished
with rest-houses, tea-stalls, and stairways for the convenience of the
pilgrims, and shaded with cypresses. It is beset with beggars, men
and women with all kinds of sores and diseases, crippled and injured,
besieging travellers with cries and self-imposed sufferings, frequently
lying across the path so as to be stepped upon. A vast number of them
live on alms thus collected, and have scooped themselves holes in the
side of the way, where they live; their numbers indicate the great
crowds whose offerings support such a wretched throng on the hill.
~CITIES AND CHARACTERISTICS OF SHANTUNG.~
The capital of the province is Tsínan, a well-built city of about
100,000 inhabitants. It was an important town in ancient times as the
capital of Tsí, one of the influential feudal States, from B.C. 1100
to its conquest by Chí Hwangtí about 230; the present town lies not
far east of the Ta-tsing ho, or new Yellow River, and is accessible
by small steamers from sea. It has hills around it, and is protected
by three lines of defence, composed of mud, granite, and brick. Three
copious springs near the western gate furnish pure water, which is
tepid and so abundant as to fill the city moat and form a lake for
the solace of the citizens whether in boats upon its bosom or from
temples around its shores. Its manufactures are strong fabrics of wild
silk, and ornaments of _liu-lí_, a vitreous substance like strass, of
which snuff-bottles, bangles, cups, etc., are made in great variety,
to resemble serpentine, jade, ice, and other things. East of Tsínan is
the prefect city of Tsíning chau, once the provincial capital, and the
centre of a populous and fertile region. Tsíning chau is an opulent
and flourishing place, judging from the gilded and carved shops,
temples, and public offices in the suburbs, which stretch along the
eastern banks of the Canal; just beyond the town, the Canal is only a
little raised above the level of the extensive marshes on each side,
and further south the swamps increase rapidly: when Amherst’s embassy
passed, the whole country, as far as the eye could reach, displayed
the effects of a most extensive recent inundation. Davis adds, “The
waters were on a level with those of the Canal, and there was no need
of dams, which were themselves nearly under water, and sluices for
discharging the superfluous water were occasionally observed. Clumps of
large trees, cottages, and towers, were to be seen on all sides, half
under water, and deserted by the inhabitants; the number of the latter
led to the inference that they were provided as places of refuge in
case of inundation, which must be here very frequent. Wretched villages
occurred frequently on the right-hand bank, along which the tracking
path was in some places so completely undermined as to give way at
every step, obliging them to lay down hurdles of reeds to afford a
passage.”[43]
Lin-tsing chau, on the Yu ho, at its junction with the Canal, lies
in the midst of a beautiful country, full of gardens and cultivated
grounds, interspersed with buildings. This place is the dépôt for
produce brought on the Canal, and a rendezvous for large fleets of
boats and barges. Near it is a pagoda in good repair, about 150 feet
high, the basement of which is built of granite, and the other stories
of glazed bricks.
The towns and villages of Shantung have been much visited during the
past few years, and their inhabitants have become better acquainted
with foreigners, with whom increased intercourse has developed its good
and bad results. The productions of this fertile province comprise
every kind of grain and vegetable found in Northern China, and its
trade by sea and along the Canal opens many outlets for enterprising
capital. Among its mineral productions are gold, copper, asbestos,
galena, antimony, silver, sulphur, fine agates, and saltpetre;
the first occurs in the beds of streams. All these yield in real
importance, however, to the coal and iron, which are abundant, and have
been worked for ages. Its manufactures supply the common clothing and
utensils of its people; silk fabrics, straw braid woven from a kind of
wheat, glass, cheap earthenware, and rugs of every pattern.
Mr. Stevens, an American missionary who visited Wei-hai wei and Chifu
in 1837, gives a description of the people, which is still applicable
to most parts of the province: “These poor people know nothing,
from youth to old age, but the same monotonous round of toil for a
subsistence, and never see, never hear anything of the world around
them. Improvements in the useful arts and sciences, and an increase
of the conveniences of life, are never known among them. In the place
where their fathers lived and died, do they live, and toil, and die,
to be succeeded by another generation in the same manner. Few of the
comforts of life can be found among them; their houses consisted in
general of granite and thatched roofs, but neither table, chair, nor
floor, nor any article of furniture could be seen in the houses of
the poorest. Every man had his pipe, and tea was in most dwellings.
They were industriously engaged, some in ploughing, others in reaping,
some carrying out manure, and others bringing home produce; numbers
were collected on the thrashing-floors, winnowing, sifting and packing
wheat, rice, millet, peas, and in drying maize, all with the greatest
diligence. Here, too, were their teams for ploughing, yoked together in
all possible ludicrous combinations; sometimes a cow and an ass; or a
cow, an ox and an ass; or a cow and two asses; or four asses; and all
yoked abreast. All the women had small feet, and wore a pale and sallow
aspect, and their miserable, squalid appearance excited an indelible
feeling of compassion for their helpless lot. They were not always
shy, but were generally ill-clad and ugly, apparently laboring in the
fields like the men. But on several occasions, young ladies clothed in
gay silks and satins, riding astride upon bags on donkeys, were seen.
No prospect of melioration for either men or women appears but in the
liberalizing and happy influences of Christianity.”[44]
~NATURAL FEATURES OF SHANSÍ.~
The province of SHANSÍ (_i.e._, West of the Hills) lies between Chihlí
and Shensí, and north of Honan; the Yellow River bounds it on the west
and partly on the south, and the Great Wall forms most of the northern
frontier. It measures 55,268 square miles, nearly the same as England
and Wales, or the State of Illinois. This province is the original
seat of the Chinese people; and many of the places mentioned and the
scenes recorded in their ancient annals occurred within its borders.
Its rugged surface presents a striking contrast to the level tracts
in Chihlí and Shantung. The southern portion of Shansí, including
the region down to the Yellow River, in all an area of 30,000 square
miles, presents a geological formation of great simplicity from Hwai
king as far north as Ping ting. The plain around the first-named city
is bounded on the north by a steep, castellated range of hills which
varies from 1,000 to 1,500 feet in height; it has few roads or streams
crossing it. On reaching the top, an undulating table-land stretches
northward, varying from 2,500 to 3,000 feet above the Plain, consisting
of coal formation, above the limestone of the lower steep hills. About
forty miles from those hills, there is a second rise like the first, up
which the road takes one to another plateau, nearly 6,000 feet above
the sea. This plateau is built up of later rocks, sandstones, shales,
and conglomerates of green, red, yellow, lilac, and brown colors, and
is deeply eroded by branches of the Tsin River, which finally flow into
the Yellow River. This plateau has its north-west border in the Wu ling
pass, beyond which begins the descent to the basin of the Făn River.
That basin is traversed near its eastern side by the Hoh shan nearly
to Taiyuen; its peaks rise to 8,000 feet in some places; the rocks are
granite and divide the coal measures, anthracite lying on its eastern
side and bituminous on the west, as far as the Yellow River, and north
as far as Ta-tung. On top of both plateaus is spread the loess deposit,
varying in depth from ten to five hundred feet, and deeply gullied by
water-courses in every direction, which expose coal and iron mines.
On the eastern side of Shansí the rocks are made up of ancient
formations or deposits of the Silurian age, presenting a series of
peaks, passes and ranges that render travel very difficult down to the
Plain. By these outlying ranges the province is isolated from Chihlí,
as no useful water communication exists. This coal and iron formation
is probably the largest in the world, and when railroads open it up
to easy access it can be readily worked along the water-courses. The
northern part of the province is drained through the rivers ending
at Tientsin. This elevated region cannot be artificially irrigated,
and when the rainfall is too small or too late, the people suffer
from famine. The northern and southern prefectures exhibit great
diversity in their animal, mineral, and vegetable productions. Some
of the favorite imperial hunting-grounds are in the north; from the
coal, iron, cinnabar, copper, marble, lapis-lazuli, jasper, salt, and
other minerals which it affords, the inhabitants gain much of their
wealth. The principal grains are wheat and millet, a large variety of
vegetables and fruits, such as persimmons, pears, dates and grapes.
The rivers are not large, and almost every one of them is a tributary
of the Yellow River. The Făn ho, about 300 miles long, is the most
important, and empties into it near the south-western corner of the
province, after draining the central section. East of this stream, as
far as the headwaters of those rivers flowing into Chihlí, extends an
undulating table-land, having a general altitude of 3,000 feet above
the Plain. South of it runs the river Kiang, also an affluent of the
Yellow River, and near this, in Kiai chau, is a remarkable deposit of
salt in a shallow lake (18 miles long and 3 broad), which is surrounded
by a high wall. The salt is evaporated in the sun under government
direction, the product bringing in a large revenue; the adjacent
town of Lung-tsüen, containing 80,000 inhabitants, is devoted to the
business. Salt has been obtained from this region for two thousand
years; the water in some of the springs is only brackish, and used in
culinary operations. There are two smaller lakes nearer the Yellow
River.
The iron obtained in the lower plateau, in the south-east near Tsih
chau, is from clay iron-ore and spathic ore with hematite, which
occurs in limestone strata at the bottom of the coal formations. It is
extracted in a rude manner, but the produce is equal to any iron in the
world, while its price is only about two cents a pound. The working and
transportation of coal and iron employ myriads of people, though they
are miserably paid. The province barely supplies its own cotton, but
woollen garments and sheepskins are produced to make up the demand for
clothing.
Taiyuen fu, the capital, lies on the northern border of a fertile
plain, 3,000 feet above the sea level; this plain extends about 2,000
square miles, and owes its existence to the gradual filling up of a
lake there, the waters having cut their way out, and left the river
Făn to drain the surplus. Across the Ho shan range lies another basin
of equal fertility and mineral wealth, in Ping-ting chau, where coal,
iron, clay and stone exist in unlimited quantities. In the northern
part of this province the Buddhist temples at Wu-tai shan in Tai chau
draw vast crowds of votaries to their shrines. The hills in which
they are built rise prominently above the range, and each celebrated
locality is memorialized by its own particular divinity, and the
buildings where he is worshipped. The presence of a living Buddha, or
_Gegen_, here attracts thousands of Mongols from the north to adore
him; their toilsome journey adding to the worth of the visit. Most
of the lamas are from the north and west. The region north of this
seems to be gradually losing its fertility, owing to the sand which is
drifted by north winds from the Ortous steppes; and as all the hills
are bare of trees, the whole of Shansí seems destined to increasing
poverty and barrenness. Its inhabitants are shrewd, enterprising
traders as well as frugal agriculturists; many of the bankers in the
Empire are from its cities.
~MOUNTAIN PASSES IN SHANSÍ.~
The great roads from Peking to the south-west and west pass through
all the chief towns of this province, and when new probably equalled
in engineering and construction anything of the kind ever built by
the Romans. The stones with which they are paved average 15 inches in
thickness. Few regions can exceed in natural difficulties some of the
passes over the loess-covered tracts of this province, where the road
must wind through miles of narrow cuts in the light and tenacious soil,
to emerge before a landscape such as that seen in the illustration.[45]
[Illustration: View over the Loess-clefts from the Han-sing ling Pass,
Shansí. From Richthofen.]
~THE PROVINCE OF HONAN.~
The province of HONAN (_i.e._, South of the River) comprises some of
the most fertile parts of the Plain, and, on account of its abundance
and central position, early received the name of _Chung Hwa Tí_, or
the ‘Middle Flowery Land,’ afterwards enlarged into _Chung Kwoh_, or
‘Middle Kingdom.’ Its form is an irregular triangle, and its size
nearly the same as Shantung; it has Shansí and Chihlí on the north,
Nganhwui on the south-east, Hupeh on the south and south-west, and
Shensí on the west, bordering also on Shantung and Kiangsu. This
area is divided into three basins, that of the Yellow River in the
north, of the Hwai River on the south, and the Han River on the
south-west; the last two are separated by a marked range of mountains,
the Fuh-niu shan, which is regarded as the eastern terminus of the
Kwănlun Mountains; it is about 300 miles long, and its eastern end
is near Jü-ning fu. This range maintains an elevation of 4,000 to
6,000 feet, and is crossed at Nanchau, where a remarkable natural
pass about 30 miles long, rising to 1,200 or 1,500 feet, affords the
needed facilities for trade and travel between the central and northern
provinces. The Peh and Tan rivers drain its southern slopes into the
Han, and the eastern sides are abundantly watered by the numerous
branches of the Hwai River as they flow into Hungtsih Lake. The
northern portion of Honan along the Yellow River is level, fertile and
populous, forming one of the richest portions of the province.
For its climate, productions, literary reputation, historical
associations, and variety of scenery, this province takes a prominent
rank. The earliest records of the Black-haired race refer to this
region, and the struggles for dominion among feudal and imperial armies
occurred in its plains. Its present difficulty of access from the coast
will ere long be overcome by railroads, when its capabilities may be
further developed, and the cotton, hemp, iron, tutenag, silk and coal
be increased for exportation. The people at present consume their own
food and manufactures, and only require a good demand to increase the
quality and amounts and exchange them for other things. The three
prefectures north of the Yellow River are low-lying; through these the
waters of that river have recently found their way into the River Wei
and thence to the Gulf of Pechele, at Măng-tsin or east of it; the
gradual rise of the bed renders their levels nearly the same, while it
makes the main stream so broad and shallow that it is of little use
for navigation. These plains are traversed by wheelbarrows and carts,
whose drivers and trundlers form a vast body of stalwart men constantly
going about in their employment from one city to another.
Kaifung fu, or Pien-liang, the capital, is situated about a league
from the southern bank of the Yellow River, whose bed is here elevated
above the adjacent country. It was the metropolis from A.D. 960 to
1129, and has often suffered from attacks of armies as well as from
inundations. The dikes are mostly on the northern shore, and exhibit
the industry and unavailing efforts of the people for scores of
leagues. During the period of the Manchu conquest Kaifung was defended
by a loyal general, who, seeing no other resource against the invaders,
broke down the embankments to drown them, by which manœuvre upwards
of 300,000 of the inhabitants perished. The city was rebuilt, but it
has not attained to its ancient splendor, if credit can be given to
the _Statistics of Kaifung_, in which work it is described as having
been six leagues in circuit in the twelfth century, approached by
five roads, and containing numerous palaces, gardens, and government
houses. The valley of the River Loh lies between the Yellow River and
the Fuh-niu Mountains, a fertile, populous region wherein many of the
remarkable events of Chinese history were enacted. Loh-yang, near
Honan, was the metropolis at three different intervals, and probably
further researches here will bring to light many ancient relics;
rock-cut temples and old inscriptions, with graceful bas-reliefs, near
the natural gate of Lung-măn, where the road crosses Sung shan, have
already been seen. Owing to the direction of the roads leading through
this region from the south and east, and the passes for travel towards
the north-west, it will form a very important centre of trade in the
future of Central Asia and western China.
The province of KIANGSU is named from the first syllable of the
capital, Kiangning, joined to Su, part of the name of the richest city,
Suchau. It lies along the sea-coast, in a north-westerly direction,
having Shantung on the north, Nganhwui on the west, and Chehkiang
on the south. The area is about 45,000 square miles, equalling
Pennsylvania or a little less than England by itself. It consists,
with little interruption, of level tracts interspersed with lakes
and marshes, through which flow their two noble rivers, which as
they are the source of the extraordinary fertility of this region,
so also render it obnoxious to freshes, or cover the low portions
with irreclaimable morasses. The region of Kiangnan is where the
beauty and riches of China are most amply displayed; “and whether
we consider,” remarks Gutzlaff, speaking of this and the adjoining
province, “their agricultural resources, their great manufactures,
their various productions, their excellent situation on the banks of
these two large streams, their many canals and tributary rivers, these
two provinces doubtless constitute the best territory of China.” The
staple productions are grain, cotton, tea, silk, and rice, and most
kinds of manufactures are here carried to the greatest perfection. The
people have an exceptional reputation for intelligence and wit, and
although the province has long ceased to possess a court, its cities
still present a gayer aspect, and are adorned with better structures
than any others in the empire. This province was the scene of the
dreadful ravages of the Tai-ping rebellion, and large districts are
still desolate, while their cities lie waste.
Probably no other country of equal extent is better watered than
Kiangsu. The Great River, the Grand Canal, many smaller streams and
canals, and a succession of lakes along the line of the canal, afford
easy communication through every part. The sea-coast has not been
surveyed north of the Yangtsz’, where it is unapproachable in large
vessels; dykes have been constructed in some portions to prevent the
in-flow of the ocean. The largest lake is the Hungtsih, about two
hundred miles in circumference. South of it lies Kauyu Lake, and on
the eastern side of the canal opposite is Pauying Lake, both of them
broad sheets of water. Numerous small lakes lie around them. Tai hu,
or ‘Great Lake,’ lies partly in Kiangsu and partly in Chehkiang, and
is the largest in the province. Its borders are skirted by romantic
scenery, while its bosom is broken by numerous islets, affording
convenient resort to the fishermen who get their subsistence from its
waters.
~CITY OF NANKING.~
Kiangning fu (better known abroad as Nanking), the capital of the
province, is situated on the south shore of the Yangtsz’, 194 miles
from Shanghai. It was the metropolis from A.D. 317 to 582, and again
for 35 years during the Ming dynasty (1368-1403). This city is the
natural location of an imperial court, accessible by land and water
from all quarters, and susceptible of sure defence. When the Tai-pings
were expelled in 1865, the city was nearly destroyed, and has since
that date only slowly revived. When Hungwu made it his capital, he
strengthened the wall around it, inclosing a great area, 35 miles in
circuit, which was never fully covered with buildings, and at present
has a most ruinous appearance. Davis remarks the striking resemblance
between Rome and Nanking, the area within the walls of both being
partially inhabited, and ruins of buildings lying here and there among
the cultivated fields, the melancholy remains of departed glory. Both
of them, however, have now brighter prospects for the future.
The part occupied by the Manchus is separated by a cross wall from the
Chinese town. The great extent of the wall renders the defence of the
city difficult, besides which it is overlooked from the hills on the
east, from one of which, the Chung shan, a wide view of the surrounding
country can be obtained. On this eastern face are three gates; the land
near the two toward the river is marshy, and the gates are approached
on stone causeys. A deep canal runs up from the river directly under
the walls on the west, serving to strengthen the approaches on that
side. Nanking is laid out in four rather wide and parallel avenues
intersected by others of less width; and though not so broad as those
of Peking, are on the whole clean, well-paved, and bordered with
handsomely furnished shops.
The only remarkable monuments of royalty which remain are several
guardian statues situated not far from the walls. These statues form an
avenue leading up to the sepulchre where the Emperor Hungwu was buried
about 1398. They consist of gigantic figures like warriors cased in
armor, standing on either side of the road, across which at intervals
large stone tablets are extended, supported by great blocks of stone
instead of pillars. Situated at some distance are a number of rude
colossal figures of horses, elephants, and other animals, all intended
to represent the guardians of the mighty dead.[46]
~PORCELAIN TOWER OF NANKING.~
Nothing made Nanking more celebrated abroad than the Porcelain Tower,
called _Pao-ngăn tah_, or the ‘Recompensing Favor Monastery,’ which
stood pre-eminent above all other similar buildings in China for its
completeness and elegance, the material of which it was built, and
the quantity of gilding with which its interior was embellished. It
was erected by Yungloh to recompense the great favor of her majesty
the Empress, and occupied 19 years (1411-1430) in its construction.
It was maintained in good condition by the government, and three
stories which had been thrown down by lightning in 1801 were rebuilt.
The Tai-pings blew it up and carried off the bricks in 1856, fearing
lest its geomantic influences should work against the success of their
cause. As to its dimensions: Its form was octagonal, divided into
nine equal stories, the circumference of the lower story being 120
feet, decreasing gradually to the top. Its base rested upon a solid
foundation of brick-work ten feet high, up which a flight of twelve
steps led into the tower, whence a spiral staircase of 190 steps
carried the visitor to the summit, 261 feet from the ground. The outer
face was covered with slabs of glazed porcelain of various colors,
principally green, red, yellow, and white, the body of the edifice
being brick. At every story was a projecting roof, covered with green
tiles; from each corner and from the top of these roofs were suspended
bells, numbering 150 in all.
This beautiful structure was visited in 1852 by Dr. Charles
Taylor, an American missionary, who has left a full account of his
observations.[47] It was to have been raised to an altitude of 329 feet
and of thirteen stories, but only nine were built; careful measurement
gave 261 feet as its height, 8-1/2 feet its thickness at top, and 12
feet at the base, where it was 96 feet 10 inches in diameter. The
facing was of bricks made of fine porcelain clay; the prevailing color
was green, owing to the predominance of the tiles on the numerous
stories. The woodwork supporting these successive roofs was strong,
curiously carved and richly painted. The many-colored tiles and bricks
were highly glazed, giving the building a gay and beautiful appearance,
that was greatly heightened when seen in the reflected sunlight. When
new it had 140 lamps, most of them hanging outside; and a native writer
says “that when lighted they illumine the 33 heavens, and detect the
good and evil among men, as well as forever ward off human miseries.”
The destruction of a building like this, from mere fanciful ideas, goes
far to explain the absence of all old or great edifices in China.
Nanking has extensive manufactories of fine satin and crape, Nankeen
cotton cloth, paper and ink of fine quality, and beautiful artificial
flowers of pith paper. In distant parts of the empire, any article
which is superior to the common run of workmanship, is said to be
from Nanking, though the speaker means only that it was made in that
region. It is renowned, too, for its scholars and literary character,
and in this particular stands among the first places of learning in
the country. It is the residence of the governor-general of three
provinces, and consequently the centre of a large concourse of
officials, educated men, and students seeking for promotion; these,
with its large libraries and bookstores, all indicating and assisting
literary pursuits, combine to give it this distinguished position. In
the monastery on Golden Island, near Chinkiang, a library was found by
the English officers, but there was no haste in examining its contents,
as they intended to have carried off the whole collection, had not
peace prevented.
~THE CITIES OF SUCHAU AND CHINKIANG.~
The city of Suchau now exceeds Nanking in size and riches. It is
situated on islands lying in the Ta hu, and from this sheet of water
many streams and canals connect the city with most parts of the
department. The walls are about ten miles in circumference; outside
of them are four suburbs, one of which is said to extend ten miles,
besides which there is an immense floating population. The whole space
includes many canals and pools connected with the Grand Canal and
the lake, and presented in 1859 a scene of activity, industry, and
riches which could not be surpassed elsewhere in China. The population
probably then exceeded a million, including the suburbs. It lies
north-west of Shanghai, the way passing through a continual range of
villages and cities; the environs are highly cultivated, producing
cotton, silk, rice, wheat, fruits, and vegetables. It was captured in
1860 by the rebels, and when retaken in 1865 was nearly reduced to a
heap of ruins. It is, however, rapidly reviving, as the loss of life
was comparatively small.
The Chinese regard this as one of their richest and most beautiful
cities, and have a saying, “that to be happy on earth, one must be
born in Suchau, live in Canton, and die in Liauchau, for in the first
are the handsomest people, in the second the most costly luxuries,
and in the third the best coffins.” It has a high reputation for its
buildings, the elegance of its tombs, the picturesque scenery of its
waters and gardens, the politeness and intelligence of its inhabitants,
and the beauty of its women. Its manufactures of silk, linen, cotton,
and works in iron, ivory, wood, horn, glass, lackered-ware, paper, and
other articles, are the chief sources of its wealth and prosperity; the
kinds of silk goods produced here surpass in variety and richness those
woven in any other place. Vessels can proceed up to the city by several
channels from the Yangtsz’ kiang, but junks of large burden anchor at
Shanghai, or Sungkiang; the whole country is so intersected by natural
and artificial water-courses, that the people have hardly any need for
roads and carts, but get about in barrows and sedans. Small steamers
find their way to every large village at high tide.
Chinkiang, situated at the junction of the Grand Canal with the
Yangtsz’ kiang, was captured by the British in July, 1842, at a great
loss of life to its defenders; the Manchu general Hai-ling, finding the
city taken, seated himself in his office, and set fire to the house,
making it his funeral pyre. Its position renders it the key of the
country, in respect to the transport of produce, taxes and provisions
for Peking, inasmuch as when the river and canal are both blockaded,
the supplies for the north and south are to a great extent intercepted.
In times of peace the scenes at the junction afford a good exhibition
of the industry and trade of the people. Barrow describes, in 1794,
“the multitude of ships of war, of burden and of pleasure, some gliding
down the stream, others sailing against it; some moving by oars, and
others lying at anchor; the banks on either side covered with towns and
houses as far as the eye could reach; as presenting a prospect more
varied and cheerful than any that had hitherto occurred. Nor was the
canal, on the opposite side, less lively. For two whole days we were
continually passing among fleets of vessels of different construction
and dimensions.”[48]
The country in the vicinity is well cultivated, moderately hilly, and
presents a characteristic view of Chinese life and action. “On the
south-east, the hills broke into an undulating country clothed with
verdure, and firs bordering upon small lakes. Beyond, stretched the
vast river we had just ascended. In the other direction, the land in
the foreground continued a low and swampy flat, leaving it difficult
at a little distance to determine which of the serpentine channels was
the main branch; there were innumerable sheets of water, separated by
narrow mounds, so that the whole resembled a vast lake, intersected by
causeways. Willows grew along their sides, and dwellings were erected
on small patches somewhat higher than the common surface.”[49] This
whole country was the scene of dreadful fighting for many years.
Between the Imperialists and Tai-pings the city was totally destroyed,
so that in 1861 hardly a house was left. It is now regaining its
natural trade and prosperity.
Near the mouth of the Grand Canal is Kin shan, or Golden Island,[50]
a beautiful spot, covered with temples and monastic establishments. A
pagoda crowns the summit, and there are many pavilions and halls, of
various sizes and degrees of elegance, on its sides and at the base,
many of them showing their imperial ownership by the yellow or green
tiling. Since the river has been open to traffic, and the devastations
of the Tai-pings have ceased, the priests have returned in small
numbers to their abodes, but the whole settlement is a poor mockery
of its early splendor. A similar one, rather larger, is found at Siung
shan, or Silver Island, below Chinkiang; it is, however, on a less
extensive scale, though in a beautiful situation. Priests are the only
occupants; temples and palaces the principal buildings, surrounded by
gardens and bowers. Massive granite terraces, decorated with huge stone
monsters, are reached from the water by broad flights of steps; fine
temples, placed to be seen, and yet shaded by trees, open pavilions,
and secluded summer-houses, give it a delightful air of retreat and
comfort, which a nearer inspection sadly disappoints.
The banks of the Yangtsz’ during the 250 miles of its course through
this province, are uniformly low, and no towns of importance occur
close to them, as they would be exposed to the floods. The vast body of
water, with its freight of millions of tons of silt goes on its way in
a quiet equable current into the Yellow Sea. The dense population of
the prefectures on the south bank, contrasted with the sparseness of
the region between the Canal and seashore on the north side, indicate
the comparative barrenness of the latter, and the difficulty of
cultivating marshy lands so nearly level with the sea.
~SHANGHAI.~
The largest seaport in Kiangsu is Shanghai (_i.e._, Approaching the
Sea), now become one of the leading emporia in Asia. It lies on the
north shore of the Wusung River, about fourteen miles from its mouth,
in lat. 31° 10′ N., and long. 121° 30′ E., at the junction of the
Hwang-pu with it, and by means of both streams communicates with
Suchau, Sungkiang, and other large cities on the Grand Canal; while by
the Yangtsz’ it receives produce from Yunnan and Sz’chuen. In these
respects its position resembles that of New Orleans.
The town of Wusung is at the mouth of that river, here about a mile
wide; and two miles beyond lies the district town of Paushan. The
wall of Shanghai is three miles in circuit, through which six gates
open into extensive suburbs; around the ramparts flows a ditch
twenty feet wide. The city stands in a wide plain of extraordinary
fertility, intersected by numerous streamlets, and affording ample
means of navigation and communication; its population is estimated
to be at present over 500,000, but the data for this figure are
rather imperfect. Since it was opened to foreign commerce in 1843,
the growth of the town has been rapid in every element of prosperity,
though subject to great vicissitudes by reason of the rebellion which
devastated the adjoining country. Its capture by the insurgents in
1851, and their expulsion in February, 1853, with the destruction of
the eastern and southern suburbs in 1860, have been its chief disasters
since that date. The native trade has gradually passed from the
unwieldy and unsafe junks which used to throng the Hwang-pu east of the
city, into steamers and foreign craft, and is now confined, so far as
the vessels are concerned, to the inland and coast traffic in coarse,
cheap articles.
Shanghai city itself is a dirty place, and poorly built. The houses
are mostly made of bluish square brick, imperfectly burned; and the
walls are constructed in a cellular manner by placing bricks on their
edges, and covering them with stucco. The streets are about eight feet
wide, paved with stone slabs, and in the daytime crowded with people.
Silk and embroidery, cotton, and cotton goods, porcelain, ready-made
clothes, beautiful skins and furs, bamboo pipes of every size, bamboo
ornaments, pictures, bronzes, specimens of old porcelain, and other
curiosities, to which the Chinese attach great value, attract the
stranger’s notice. Articles of food form the most extensive trade
of all; and it is sometimes a difficult matter to get through the
streets, owing to the immense quantities of fish, pork, fruit, and
vegetables, which crowd the stands in front of the shops. Dining-rooms,
tea-houses, and bakers’ shops, are met with at every step, from the
poor man who carries around his kitchen or bakehouse, altogether hardly
worth a dollar, to the most extensive tavern or tea-house, crowded
with customers. For a few cash, a Chinese can dine upon rice, fish,
vegetables, and tea; nor does it matter much to him, whether his table
is set in the streets or on the ground, in a house or on a deck, he
makes himself merry with his chopsticks, and eats what is before
him.[51] The buildings composing the Ching-hwang miao, and the grounds
attached to this establishment, present a good instance of Chinese
style and taste in architecture. Large warehouses for storing goods,
granaries, and temples, are common; but neither these, nor the public
buildings, present any distinguishing features peculiar to this city
alone.
The contrast between the narrow, noisome and reeking parts of the
native city, and the clean, spacious, well-shaded and well-paved
streets and large houses of the foreign municipalities, is like that
seen in many cities in India. The Chinese are ready enough to enjoy
and support the higher style of living, but they are not yet prepared
to adopt and maintain similar improvements among themselves. The
difficulty of being sure of the co-operation of the rulers in municipal
improvements deters intelligent natives from initiating even the
commonest sanitary enterprise of their foreign neighbors.
The remaining cities and districts of Kiangsu present nothing worthy
of special remark. The Grand Canal runs from north to south, and
affords a safe and ample thoroughfare for multitudes of boats in its
entire length. Tsing-kiang-pu and Hwai-ngan, near the old Yellow River,
receive the traffic from the north and Hungtsih Lake, while Yangchau
near the Yangtsz’ River, takes that going north. In this part of the
channel, constant dyking has resulted in raising the banks; the city
of Hwai-ngan, for example, lies below the canal which brings trade
to its doors, and may one day be drowned by its benefactor. Salt is
manufactured in the districts south of the Yellow River, where the
people cultivate but rare patches of arable land.
The island of Tsungming, at the mouth of the Yangtsz’, is about
sixty miles long, and sixteen wide, containing over nine hundred
square miles, and is gradually enlarging by the constant deposits
from the river; it is flat, but contains fresh water. It is highly
cultivated and populous, though some places on the northern side are
so impregnated with salt, and others so marshy, as to be useless for
raising food. This island produces a variety of _kaoliang_ or sorghum
(_Holcus_), which is sweet enough to furnish syrup, and is grown for
that purpose in the United States.
~POSITION AND TOWNS OF NGANHWUI PROVINCE.~
The province of NGANHWUI was so named by combining the first words
in its two large cities, Nganking and Hwuichau, and forms the
south-western half of Kiangnan; it is both larger and more uneven
than Kiangsu, ranges of hills stretching along the southern portions,
and between the River Hwai and the Yangtsz’. It lies in the central
and southern parts of the Plain, north of Kiangsí, west of Kiangsu
and Chehkiang, and between them and Honan and Hupeh. Its productions
and manufactures, the surface, cultivation of the country, and
character of the people, are very similar to those of Kiangsu, but the
cities are less celebrated. The terrible destruction of life in this
province during the Tai-ping rule has only been partially remedied by
immigration from other provinces; it will require years of peace and
industry to restore the prosperous days of Taokwang’s reign.
The surface of the country is naturally divided into that portion which
lies in the hilly regions around Hwuichau and Ningkwoh connected with
the Tsientang River, the central plain of the Yangtsz’ with its short
affluents, and the northern portion which the River Hwai drains. The
southern districts are superior for climate, fertility, and value of
their products to most parts of the Empire; and the numerous rivulets
which irrigate and open their beautiful valleys to traffic with other
districts, render them attractive to settlers. No expense has been
spared in erecting and preserving the embankments along the streams,
whose waters are thereby placed at the service of the farmers.
The Great River passes through the south from south-west to north-east;
several small tributaries flow into it on both banks, one of which
connects with Chau hu, or Nest Lake, in Luchau fu, the principal sheet
of water in the province. The largest section is drained by the River
Hwai and its branches, which flow into Hungtsih Lake; most of these
are navigable quite across to Honan. The productions comprise every
kind of grain, vegetables, and fruit known in the Plain; most of the
green tea districts lie in the south-eastern parts, particularly in the
Sunglo range of hills in Hwuichau prefecture. Silk, cotton, and hemp
are also extensively raised; but excepting iron, few metals are brought
to market.
The provincial capital, Nganking or Anking, lies close to the northern
shore of the Kiang. Davis describes the streets as very narrow, and
the shops as unattractive; the courts and gateways of many good
dwelling-houses presented themselves as he passed along the streets.
“The palace of the governor we first took for a temple, but were soon
undeceived by the inscriptions on the huge lanterns at the gateway.
These official residences seldom display any magnificence. The pride
of a Chinese officer of rank consists in his power and station, and as
the display of mere wealth attracts little respect, it is neglected
more than in any country of the world. The best shops that we saw were
for the sale of horn lanterns and porcelain. They possess the art
of softening horn by the application of a very high degree of moist
heat, and extending it into thin laminæ of any shape. These lamps are
about as transparent as ground-glass, and, when ornamented with silken
hangings, have an elegant appearance.” During the fifty years since his
visit, this large city has been the sport of prosperous and adverse
fortunes, and is now slowly recovering from its demolition during the
Tai-ping rebellion. It is situated on rising ground near the base of a
range of hills far in the north, the watershed of two basins.
The banks of the river, between Nanking and Nganking, a distance of
300 miles, are well cultivated, and contain towns and villages at
short intervals. The climate, the scenery, the bustle on the river
near the towns, and the general aspect of peaceful thrift along this
reach, makes it on ordinary occasions one of the bright scenes in
China. Wuhu hien, about sixty miles above Nanking, lies near the mouth
of the Hwangchi, a stream connecting it with the back country, and
making it the mart for much of that trade. It was next in importance
to Chinkiang, but its sufferings between the rebels and imperialists
nearly destroyed it. The revival in population and trade has been
encouraging, and its former importance is sure to revive.
Hwuichau (or in Cantonese, Fychow) is celebrated, among other things,
for its excellent ink and lackered-ware. Fungyang (_i.e._, the Rising
Phœnix), a town lying north-west of Nanking, on the River Hwai, was
intended, by Hungwu, the founder of the Ming dynasty, to have been
the capital of the Empire instead of Nanking, and was thus named in
anticipation of its future splendor.
~KIANGSÍ PROVINCE.~
The province of KIANGSÍ (_i.e._, West of the River) lies south of
Nganhwui and Hupeh, between Chehkiang and Fuhkien on the east, and
Hunan on the west, reaching from the Yangtsz’ to the Mei ling on the
south. Its form is oblong, and its entire area is made up of the
beautiful basin of the Kan kiang, including all the affluents and
their minor valleys. The hilly portions form part of the remarkable
series of mountainous ridges, which cover all south-eastern and
southern China, an area of about 300,000 square miles, extending from
Ningpo south-westerly to Annam. It is made up of ranges of short and
moderate hills, cut up by a complicated net of water-courses, many of
which present a succession of narrow defiles and gentle valleys with
bottom lands from five to twelve miles wide. That part of this region
in Kiangsí has an irregular watershed on the east, separating it from
the Min basin, and a more definite divide on the west from Hunan and
its higher mountains. The province entire is a little larger than all
New England, or twice the size of Portugal, but, in population, vastly
exceeds those countries. The surface of the land is rugged, and the
character of the inhabitants partakes in some respects of the roughness
of their native hills. It is well watered and drained by the River
Kan and its tributaries, most of which rise within the province; the
main trunk empties into Poyang Lake by numerous mouths, whose silt
has gradually made the country around it swampy. For many miles on
its eastern and southern banks extends an almost uninhabitable marsh,
presenting a dreary appearance. The soil, generally, is productive, and
large quantities of rice, wheat, silk, cotton, indigo, tea, and sugar,
are grown and exported. It shares, in some degree, the manufactures of
the neighboring provinces, especially in Nankeen cloth, vast quantities
of which are woven here, but excels them all in the quality and amount
of its porcelain. The mountains produce camphor, varnish, oak, banian,
fir, pine, and other trees; those on the west are well wooded, but much
of the timber has been carried away during the late rebellion, and left
the hillsides bare and profitless.
~TOWNS AND PRODUCTIONS OF KIANGSÍ.~
Nanchang, the provincial capital, lies near the southern shore of the
Poyang Lake; the city walls are six miles in circuit, and accessible by
water from all sides. The character of its population is not favorable
among their countrymen, and owing to the difficulty of reaching it from
the Yangtsz’, it escaped the ruin and rapine which befel Kiukiang.
Small steamers can come up to its jetties, but as the tea and porcelain
are shipped on the south-east side of the lake, Nanchang is not
likely to become a large mart; few of the cities above it can ever be
reached by steamers. Barrow estimated that there were, independent of
innumerable small craft, 100,000 tons of shipping lying before the
place. The banks of the Kan kiang, near the lake, are flat, and not
highly cultivated, but the scenery becomes more varied and agreeable
the further one ascends the stream; towns and villages constantly come
in sight, and the cultivation, though not universal, is more extended.
Among other sights on this river are the bamboo water-wheels, which
are so built on the steep banksides, that the buckets lift their
freight 20 or 25 feet, and pour it out in a ceaseless stream over
the fields. The flumes thrown out into the stream to turn a stronger
current on the wheel, often seriously interfere with navigation. Many
pagodas are seen on either bank of this water-course, some of them
undoubtedly extremely old. As the voyager ascends the river, several
large cities are passed, as Linkiang, Kih-ngan, Kanchau, and Nan-ngan
(all capitals of departments), besides numerous towns and villages; so
that if the extent of this river and the area of the valley it drains
be considered, it will probably bear comparison with that of any valley
in the world for populousness, amount and variety of productions, and
diligence of cultivation.
Beyond Kihngan are the Shihpah tan, or ‘Eighteen Rapids,’ which are
torrents formed by ledges of rocks running across the river, but not of
such height or roughness as to seriously obstruct the navigation except
at low water. The shores in their vicinage are exceedingly beautiful.
The transparency of the stream, the bold rocks fringed with wood,
and the varied forms of the mountains, call to mind those delightful
streams that are discharged from the lakes and north counties of
England. The hilly banks are in many places covered with the Camellia
oleifera, whose white blossoms give them the appearance of snow, when
the plant is in flower. Kanchau is the town where large boats are
obliged to stop; but Nan-ngan is at the head of navigation, about three
hundred miles from the lake, where all goods for the south are debarked
to be carried across the Mei ling, or ‘Plum Pass.’
Within the department of Jauchau in Fauliang hien, east of Poyang Lake,
are the celebrated porcelain manufactories of Kingteh chin, named after
an Emperor of the Sung dynasty, in whose reign, A.D. 1004, they were
established. This mart still supplies all the fine porcelain used in
the country, but was almost wholly destroyed during the rebellion, the
kilns broken up, and the workmen dispersed to join the rebels or die
from want. The million of workmen said to have been employed there
thirty years ago are now only gradually resuming their operations,
and slowly regaining their prosperity. The approach to the spot is
announced by the smoke, and at night it appears like a town on fire,
or a vast furnace emitting flames from numerous vents, there being, it
is said, five hundred kilns constantly burning. Kingteh chin stands on
the river Chang in a plain flanked by high mountains, about forty miles
north-east from Jauchau, through which its ware is distributed over the
empire.
Genius in China, as elsewhere, renders a place illustrious, and few
spots are more celebrated than the vale of the White Deer in the
Lü hills, near Nankang, on the west side of Lake Poyang, where Chu
Hí, the great commentator of Confucius, lived and taught, in the
twelfth century. It is a secluded valley about seven miles from the
city, situated in a nook by the side of a rivulet. The unpretending
buildings are comprised in a number of different courts, evidently
intended for use rather than show. In one of the halls, the White
Deer is represented, and near by a tree is pointed out, said to have
been planted by the philosopher’s own hand. This spot is a place of
pilgrimage to Chinese literati at the present day, for his writings are
prized by them next to their classics. The beauty and sublimity of this
region are lauded by Davis, and its praises are frequent themes for
poetical celebration among native scholars.[52]
The maritime province of CHEHKIANG, the smallest of the eighteen, lies
eastward of Kiangsí and Nganhwui, and between Kiangsu and Fuhkein north
and south, and derives its name from the river Cheh or ‘Crooked,’
which runs across its southern part. Its area is 39,000 square miles,
or nearly the same as Ohio; it lies south-east of the plain at the
end of the Nan shan, and for fertility, numerous water-courses,
rich and populous cities, variety of productions, and excellence of
manufactures, is not at all inferior to the larger provinces. Baron
Richthofen’s letter to the Shanghai Chamber of Commerce, July 25, 1871,
contains a good account of its topography. The whole province produces
cotton, silk, tea, rice, ground nuts, wheat, indigo, vegetable tallow
(_stillingia_), and pulse, in abundance. It possesses within its limits
every requisite for the food and clothing of its inhabitants, while the
excellence of its manufactures insures it in exchange a supply of the
luxuries of other regions.
~NATURAL FEATURES OF CHEHKIANG.~
The rivers in Chehkiang rise in the province; and, as might be inferred
from the position of the hills, their course is generally short and the
currents rapid. Fourteen principal streams are enumerated, of which the
Tsientang is the most important. The main branch of this river rises in
the southern districts in two head-waters, which join at Küchau fu and
run thence into Hangchau Bay. The bore which comes up into this river
fifteen miles, as far as Hangchau, is the only one along the coast.
As its wall of water approaches the city, the junks and boats prepare
by turning their bows to meet it, and usually rise over its crest, 6
or 10 feet at times, without mishap. The basin of the Tsientang River
measures nearly half of the province; by means of rafts and boats the
people transport themselves and their produce for about 300 miles to
its headwaters. The valley of Lanki is the largest of the bottom lands,
140 miles long and 5 to 15 wide, and passes north through a gorge 70
miles in length into the lower valley, where it receives the Sin-ngan
River from the west in Nganhwui, and thus communicates with Hwuichau at
times of high water. It is just fitted for the rafting navigation of
the region, and by means of its tortuous channels each one of the 29
districts in its entire basin can be reached by water.
The forest and fruit trees of Chehkiang comprise almost every valuable
species known in the eastern provinces. The larch, elcococcus, camphor,
tallow, fir, mulberry, varnish, and others, are common, and prove
sources of wealth in their timber and products. The climate is most
salubrious; the grains, vegetables, animals, and fishes, furnish
food; while its beautiful manufactures of silk are unrivalled in the
world, and have found their way to all lands. Hemp, lackered- and
bamboo-wares, tea, crockery, paper, ink, and other articles, are also
exported.
The inhabitants emulate those in the neighboring regions for wealth,
learning, and refinements, with the exception of the hilly districts
in the south bordering on Kiangsí and Fuhkien. The dwellers of these
upland valleys are shut out by position and inclination, so that
they form a singularly clannish race. Their dialects are peculiar
and very limited in range, and each group of villagers suspects and
shuns the others. They are sometimes rather turbulent, and in some
parts the cultivation of the mountain lands is interdicted, and a
line of military posts extends around them in the three provinces, in
order to prevent the people from settling in their limits; though the
interdiction does not forbid cutting the timber growing there.[53]
~HANGCHAU AND ITS ENVIRONS.~
Hangchau, the capital of the province, lies in the northern part, less
than a mile from the Tsientang. The velocity of this stream indicates a
rapid descent of the country towards the ocean, but it discharges very
little silt; the tide rises six or seven feet opposite the city, and
nearly thirty at the mouth.
Only a moiety of the inhabitants reside within the walls of the city,
the suburbs and the waters around them supporting a large population.
A portion of the space in the north-western part is walled off for the
accommodation of the Manchu garrison, which consists of 7,000 troops.
The governor-general of Chehkiang and Fuhkien has an official house
here, as well, also, as the governor of the province, but since the
increased importance of Fuhchau, he seldom resides in this city; these,
with their courts and troops, in addition to the great trade passing
through, render it one of the richest and most important cities in the
empire. The position is the most picturesque of any of the numerous
localities selected by the Chinese for their capital. It lies in full
view of the ocean, and from the hill-top in the centre a wide view
of the plains south and east is obtained. The charming lake, Si Hu,
and the numerous houses on its shores, with the varied scenery of the
hills, copses, glades, and river banks, all highly cultivated, within
a radius of ten miles, fully bear out the praises of the Chinese as
to its singular beauty. Marco Polo lavishes all his admiration upon
its size, riches, manufactures, and government, from which it is to be
inferred that it suffered little in the Mongolian conquest. He visited
the place when governor of Yangchau in 1286, and enthusiastically
describes it as “beyond dispute the finest and the noblest in the
world.”[54] The Chinese have a proverb--_Shang yu tien tang: Hia yu Su
Hang_--the purport of which is that Hangchau and Suchau are fully equal
to paradise; but the comparison of the Venetian traveller gives one
a poorer idea of the European cities of his day, than it does of the
magnificence of the Chinese, to those who have seen them. The streets
are well-paved, ornamented with numerous honorary tablets erected to
the memory of distinguished individuals, and agreeably interrupting the
passage through them. The long main street extending along the Grand
Canal into and through the city, thence out by the Tsientang, was,
before its ruthless demolition by the Tai-pings in 1863, probably one
of the finest streets in the whole Empire. The shops and warehouses, in
point of size and stock of goods contained in them, might vie with the
best in London. In population, luxury, wealth, and influence this city
rivals Suchau, and for excellence of manufactures probably exceeds the
latter place. Were Hangchau easily reached by sea, and had it ample
harbors, it would engross the trade of the eastern coast; but furious
tides (running sometimes 11-1/2 knots an hour); the bore jeoparding
passage-boats and other small crafts; sand banks and quicksands;--these
present insuperable difficulties to the commerce by the ocean.
This city was the metropolis of the country during the nine latter
princes of the Sung dynasty (1129 to 1280), when the northern parts
were under dominion of the tribe of Kin Tartars. One cause of celebrity
is found in the beauty of its environs, especially those near the
Si Hu, or West Lake, an irregular sheet of water about 12 miles in
circuit. Barrow observes that “the natural and artificial beauties of
this lake far exceeded anything we had hitherto had an opportunity of
seeing in China. The mountains surrounding it were lofty, and broken
into a variety of forms that were highly picturesque; and the valleys
were richly clothed with trees of different kinds, among which three
species were remarkably striking, not only by their intrinsic beauty,
but also by the contrast they formed with themselves and the rest of
the trees of the forest. These were the camphor and tallow trees, and
the arbor vitæ. The bright, shining green foliage of the first, mingled
with the purple leaves of the second, and over-topped by the stately
tree of life, of the deepest green, produced a pleasing effect to the
eye; and the landscape was rendered still more interesting to the mind
by the very singular and diversified appearance of several thousand
repositories of the dead upon the sloping sides of the inferior hills.
Here, as well as elsewhere, the sombre and upright cypress was destined
to be the melancholy companion of the tombs.
“Higher still, among the woods, avenues had been opened to admit of
rows of small blue houses, exposed on white colonnades, which, on
examination, were also found to be mansions of the dead. Naked coffins,
of extraordinary thickness, were everywhere lying on the surface of
the ground. The margins of the lake were studded with light aerial
buildings, among which one of more solidity and greater extent than the
rest was said to belong to the emperor. The grounds were inclosed with
brick walls, and mostly planted with vegetables and fruit trees; but
in some there appeared to be collections of such shrubs and flowers as
are most esteemed in the country.”[55]
Staunton speaks of the lake as a beautiful sheet of water, perfectly
pellucid, full of fish, in most places shallow, and ornamented with
a great number of light and fanciful stone bridges, thrown across
the arms of the lake as it runs up into the hills. A stone tower on
the summit of a projecting headland attracted attention, from its
presenting a different architecture from that usually seen in Chinese
buildings. This tower, called the _Lui Fung tah_, _lit._ ‘Tower of the
Thunder Peak’ (not Thundering Wind, as Staunton renders it), from the
hill being at first owned by Mr. Lui, was built about A.D. 950, and is
to-day a solid structure, though much ruined. It has now four stories,
and is about 120 feet high; something like a regular order is still
discernible in the moldering cornices. The legend of the White Snake is
associated with this structure, and people constantly carry away pieces
of its bricks as charms.
An interesting corroboration of this account is given by Polo, who
says, “Inside the city there is a lake which has a compass of some 30
miles; and all around it are erected beautiful palaces and mansions,
of the richest and most exquisite structure that you can imagine,
belonging to the nobles of the city. There are also on its shores many
abbeys and churches of the idolaters. In the middle of the lake are
two islands, on each of which stands a rich, beautiful and spacious
edifice, furnished in such a style as to seem fit for the palace of an
emperor. And when any one of the citizens desired to hold a marriage
feast, or to give any other entertainment, it used to be done at one of
these palaces.”[56]
The splendor and size of the numerous Buddhist temples in and around
Hangchau attracted travellers to the city more even than did its
position; these shrines have, however, all been destroyed, and their
thousands of priests driven away; the Tai-pings left no building
untouched. The Yoh Miao stands near the north-west corner of the
Si Hu, and contains the tombs of the patriot general Yoh Fi of the
Sung dynasty (A.D. 1125), and his son, who were unjustly executed as
traitors. Two conical mounds mark their resting places, and separated
by a wall, but inside the inclosure are four iron statues cast in a
kneeling posture and loaded with chains,--on his right Tsin Kwei and
his wife, on the left a judge and general, who subserved Tsin Kwei’s
hatred of Yoh Fi by their flagitious conduct. All four are here doing
homage and penance to this just man whom they killed, and by the
obloquy they receive serve as a warning to other traitors. In a temple,
called _Ting-tsz’ sz’_, not far from the city, the party of the Dutch
embassy were well lodged, and attended by three hundred priests. The
establishment was in good repair, and besides two guardian monsters
more than thirty feet high, near the entrance, contained five hundred
images of the Buddhist Arhans, with miniature pagodas of bronze, of
beautiful workmanship.
~DESCRIPTION OF HANGCHAU.~
Hangchau is better known abroad for manufactures of silk than for any
other fabrics, but its position at the termination of the Canal may
perhaps give its name to many articles which are not actually made
there, for Huchau is now a greater dépôt for raw and woven silks. In
the northern suburbs lies an irregular basin, forming the southern
extremity of the Canal; but between the river and the basin there is
no communication, so that all goods brought hither must be landed.
The city contains, among other public buildings, a mosque, bearing an
inscription in Arabic, stating that it is a “temple for Mussulmen,
when travelling, who wish to consult the Koran.”[57] It is higher
than the adjacent buildings, and adorned with a cupola, pierced with
holes at short intervals. It was spared in 1863, as not being an
idolatrous temple. There are also several others in the city, it being
a stronghold of Islamism in China. Water communication exists between
Hangchau and Yüyau, south-east through Shauhing, and thence to Ningpo,
by means of which goods find their way to and from the capital. A good
road also runs between the two former cities; indeed, elsewhere in the
province the thoroughfares are very creditable; they are laid with
broad slabs of granite and limestone, and lead over plains and hills in
numberless directions.
~NINGPO.~
Ningpo fu (‘Peaceful Wave city’) is the next important city in
Chehkiang, in consequence of its foreign relations. It is admirably
situated for trade and influence, at the junction of three streams,
in lat. 29° 55′ N., and long. 121° 22′ E.; the united river flows
on to the ocean, eleven and a half miles distant, under the name of
the Tatsieh. Opposite the city itself, there are but two streams,
but the southern branch again subdivides a few miles south-west of
Ningpo. Its population has been variously estimated from one-fourth
to one-third of a million, and even more, including the suburban and
floating inhabitants. This place was called _King-yuen_ by the Sung,
and received its present name from the Mongols. It was captured in 1862
by the insurgents, who were deterred from destroying it by the presence
of foreign men-of-war; the prosperity of the mart has since increased.
When foreigners first resorted to China for trade, Ningpo soon became a
centre of silk and other kinds of commodities; the Portuguese settled
there, calling it _Liampo_, which is the same name. It is, moreover,
an ancient city, and its Annals afford full information upon every
point interesting to a Chinese antiquarian, though a foreigner soon
tires of the many insignificant details mixed up with a few valuable
statements.[58]
“The plain in which Ningpo lies is a magnificent amphitheatre,
stretching away from twelve to eighteen miles on one side to the
base of the distant hills, and on the other to the verge of the
ocean. As the eye travels along, it catches many a pleasing object.
Turn landward, it will see canals and water-courses, fields and snug
farm-houses, smiling cottages, family residences, hamlets and villages,
family tombs, monasteries and temples. Turn in the opposite direction,
and you perceive a plain country descending toward the ocean; but
the river alive with all kinds of boats, and the banks studded with
ice-houses, most of all attract the attention. From without the city,
and while still upon the ramparts, look within its walls, you will be
no less gratified. Here there is nothing European, little to remind
you of what you have seen in the west. The single-storied and the
double-storied houses, the heavy prison-like family mansions, the
family vaults and graveyards, the glittering roofs of the temples, the
dilapidated official residences, the deserted literary and examination
halls, and the prominent sombre Tower of Ningpo, are entirely Chinese.
The attention is also arrested for a moment or two by ditches,
canals, and reservoirs of water, with their wooden bridges and stone
arches.”[59] Two serious drawbacks to a residence here are the stifling
heat of summer and the bad quality of the water.
The circumference of the walls is nearly five miles; they are about
twenty-five feet high, fifteen feet wide at the top, and twenty-two at
the base, built solidly, though somewhat dilapidated, and overgrown
with grass. A deep moat partly surrounds them; commencing at the North
gate, it runs on the west, south, and south-east side as far as Bridge
gate, a distance of nearly three miles, and is in some places forty
yards wide. Its constant use as a thoroughfare for boats insures its
repair and proper depth; the other faces of the city are defended by
the river. There are six gates, and two sally-ports near the south and
west approaches intended for the passage of the boats that ply on the
city canals.
On the east is Bridge gate, within which, and near the walls, the
English factory was once situated. This opening leads out to the
floating bridge; the latter structure is two hundred yards long and
five broad, made of planks firmly lashed, and laid upon sixteen
lighters closely linked and chained together, but which can be opened.
A busy market is held on the bridge, and the visitor following the
lively crowd finds his way to an extensive suburb on the opposite
side. Ferry boats ply across both streams in vast numbers, adding
greatly to the vivacity of the scene. The custom-house is situated
beyond the bridge, and this eastern suburb contains several buildings
of a religious and public character, lumber-yards, dock-yards, and
rows of ice-houses, inviting the notice of the traveller. The environs
beyond the north gate are not so thickly settled as those across the
rivers; the well cultivated fields, divided and irrigated by numerous
water-courses, with scattered hamlets, beguile the visitor in his
rambles, and lead him onward.
There are numerous temples and monasteries, and a large variety of
assembly-halls, governmental offices, and educational establishments,
but none of these edifices are remarkable in an architectural point
of view. The assembly-halls or club-houses are numerous, and in their
internal arrangements form a curious feature of native society. It is
the practice among residents or merchants from other provinces, to
subscribe and erect on the spot where they are engaged in business,
a temple, dedicated to the patron deity of their native province,
in which a few priests are supported, and plays acted in its honor.
Sometimes the building is put in charge of a layman, called a “master
of ceremonies,” and the current expenses defrayed by subscription.
The club-houses are places of resort for travellers from the
several provinces or districts, and answer, moreover, to European
coffee-houses, in being points where news from abroad is heard and
exchanged.
The streets are well paved, and interrupted here and there by honorary
portals of considerable size and solidity, which also give variety to
an otherwise dull succession of shops and sign-boards, or dead walls.
Two small lagoons afford space for some aquatic amusements to the
citizens. One called Sun Lake is only a thousand yards in circuit; the
other, called Moon Lake, is near the West gate, and has three times
its perimeter. Both are supplied by sluices passing through the city
gates, while many canals are filled from them, which aid in irrigating
the suburbs. Some of the pleasantest residences of the city are built
on their banks.
~NINGPO, CHINHAI, AND THE ARCHIPELAGO.~
Among interesting edifices is the _Tien-fung tah_ (_i.e._,
Heaven-conferred pagoda), a hexagonal seven-storied tower upward of
160 feet high, which, according to the _Annals of Ningpo_, was first
erected 1100 years ago, though during that period it has been destroyed
and rebuilt several times. Upon the authority of this work, the
tower was constructed before the city itself, and its preservation is
considered as connected with the good luck of the place. The visitor
mounts to the summit by a flight of narrow stone steps, ascending
spirally within the walls.
[Illustration: TEMPLE OF THE GODDESS MA TSU-PU, NINGPO.]
The most elegant and solid building of the city lies on the water’s
edge outside the walls, between the East and Bridge gates; it is a
temple dedicated to the marine goddess Ma Tsupu, and was founded by
Fuhkien men in the 12th century, but the present structure was erected
in 1680, and largely endowed. Its ornaments are elaborate and rich, and
its appearance on festival days, gay and animated in an unusual degree.
The lanterns and scrolls hanging from the ceiling attract attention by
the curious devices and beautiful characters written and drawn on them
in bright colors, while the walls are concealed by innumerable drawings.
Chinhai, at the mouth of the river, is so situated by nature and
fortified by art, that it commands the passage. Its environs were
the scene of a severe engagement between the Chinese and English in
October, 1841, on which occasion great slaughter was committed upon
the imperial troops. The town lies at the foot of a hill on a tongue
of land on the northern bank of the river, and is partly sheltered
from the sea on the north by a dyke about three miles long, composed
of large blocks of hewn granite, and proving an admirable defence
in severe weather. The walls are twenty feet high and three miles
in circumference, but the suburbs extend along the water, attracted
by, and for the convenience of, the shipping. Merchant ships report
here when proceeding up the river, along whose banks the scenery is
diversified, while the water, as usual in China, presents a lively
scene. Numerous ice-houses are seen constructed of thick stone walls
twelve feet high, each having a door on one side and an incline on the
other for the removal and introduction of the ice, and protected by
straw and a heavily thatched roof.
The Chusan archipelago forms a single district of which Tinghai is the
capital; it is divided into thirty-four _chwang_ or townships, whose
officers are responsible to the district magistrate. The southern
limit of the group is Quesan or the Kiu shan islands, in lat. 29°
21′ N., and long. 121° 10′ E., consisting of eleven islets, the
northernmost of which is False Saddle Island; their total number is
over a hundred. Tinghai city lies on the southern side of Chan shan or
Boat Island, which gives its name on foreign maps to the whole group.
It is twenty miles long, from six to ten wide, and fifty one and a half
in circumference. The archipelago seems to be the highest portion of a
vast submarine plain, geologically connected with the Nan shan range on
the Continent and the mountains in Kiusiu and Nippon; it is a pivot for
the changes in weather and temperature observed north and south of this
point along the coast.
The general aspect of these islands and the mainland, is the same
beautiful alternation of hills and narrow valleys, everywhere fertile
and easily irrigated, with peaks, cascades, and woodlands interspersed.
In Chusan itself the fertile and well-watered valleys usually reach to
the sea, and are furnished with dykes along the beach, which convert
them into plains of greater or less extent, through which run canals,
used both for irrigation and navigation. Rice and barley, beans, yams,
sweet potatoes, etc., are grown; every spot of arable soil being
cultivated, and terraces constructed on most of the slopes. The view
from the tops of the ridges, looking athwart them, or adown their
valleys, or to seaward, is highly picturesque. The prevailing rocks
belong to the ancient volcanic class, comprising many varieties, but
principally clay-stone, trachyte, and compact and porphyritic felspar.
The brief occupation of this island by the British forces in 1841 led
to no permanent improvement in the condition of the people, and it has
neither trade nor minerals sufficient to attract capital thither. Owing
in part, perhaps, to this poverty, Tinghai escaped the ravages of the
Tai-pings, and has now recovered from the damage sustained by its first
capture.
~PUTO ISLAND AND ITS TEMPLES.~
Puto and a few smaller islands are independent of civil jurisdiction,
being ruled by the abbot of the head monastery. This establishment, and
that on Golden Island in the Yangtsz’ are among the richest and best
patronized of all the Buddhist monasteries in China; both of them have
been largely favored by emperors at different periods.
Puto is a narrow islet, 3-1/2 miles long, and lies 1-1/2 miles from the
eastern point of Chusan. Its surface is covered with sixty monasteries,
pavilions, temples, and other religious buildings, besides grottos and
sundry monuments of superstition, in which at least 2,000 idle priests
chant the praises of their gods. One visitor describes his landing
and ascending “a broad and well-beaten pathway which led to the top
of one of the hills, at every crag and turn of which we encountered a
temple or a grotto, an inscription or an image, with here and there
a garden tastefully laid out, and walks lined with aromatic shrubs,
which diffused a grateful fragrance through the air. The prospect from
these heights was extremely delightful; numerous islands, far and
near, bestudded the main, rocks and precipices above and below, here
and there a mountain monastery rearing its head, and in the valley the
great temple, with its yellow tiles indicative of imperial distinction,
basked like a basilisk in the noonday-sun. All the aid that could be
collected from nature and from Chinese art, was here concentrated
to render the scene enchanting. But to the eye of the Christian
philanthropist it presented a melancholy picture of moral and spiritual
death. The only thing we heard out of the mouths of the priests was
Ometo Fuh; to every observation that was made, re-echoed Ometo Fuh; and
the reply to every inquiry was Ometo Fuh. Each priest was furnished
with a rosary which he was constantly counting, and as he counted
repeated the same senseless, monotonous exclamation. These characters
met the eye at every turn of the road, at every corner of the temples,
and on every scrap of paper; on the bells, on the gateways, and on the
walls, the same words presented themselves; indeed the whole island
seemed to be under the spell of this talismanic phrase, and devoted to
recording and re-echoing Ometo Fuh.”[60] The pristine glory of these
temples has become sadly dimmed, many of the buildings present marks
of decay, and some of the priesthood are obliged to resort to honest
labor in order to gain a living. Deaths in their number are supplied by
purchasing youths, who are taught nothing but religious literature, a
fit training to stunt their minds to pursue the dull mummery of singing
Ometo Fuh. The two imperial temples present good specimens of Chinese
architecture; but they as well as all other things to be seen at Puto
are dilapidated and effete.
Temples were erected on this island as early as A.D. 550, and since
it became a resort for priests it seems to have enjoyed the patronage
of the government. The goddess of Mercy is said to have visited this
spot, and her image is the principal object of worship. No females are
allowed to live on the island, nor any persons other than the priests,
unless in their employ. The revenues are derived from rent of the lands
belonging to the temples, from the collection of those priests who go
on begging excursions over the Empire, and from the alms of pilgrims
who resort to this agreeable locality. It appears like one of the most
beautiful spots on the earth when the traveller lands, just such a
place as his imagination had pictured as exclusively belonging to the
sunny East, and so far as nature and art can combine, it is really
so: but here the illusion ends. Idleness and ignorance, celibacy and
idolatry, vice, dirt, and dilapidation, in the inmates or in their
habitations, form a poor back-ground for the well-dressed community,
and gay, variegated prospect seen when stepping ashore.
~CHAPU and CANFU.~
A town of considerable importance in this province is Chapu, about
fifty miles north-west from Chinhai, across Hangchau Bay, and connected
with that city through a luxuriant plain by a well-paved causeway
about thirty miles long. Chapu was the port of Hangchau, and when it
possessed the entire trade with Japan, boasted of being the largest
mart on the seacoast of Chehkiang. The town lies at the bottom of a
bay on the western face of some hills forming its eastern point; and
at low tide the mud extends a long way from the lowland. The suburbs
are situated near a small headland; the walled town stands about half a
mile behind. When attacked by the British in May, 1842, the walls were
found in poor condition, but the Manchu garrison stationed here upheld
their ancient reputation for bravery. This body of troops occupies a
separate division of the city, and their cantonment is planned on the
model of a camp. The outer defences are numerous, but most of the old
fortifications are considerably decayed. The country in the vicinity
is highly cultivated, and possesses an unusual number of finely
constructed, substantial houses.
South-west from Chapu lies the old town of Canfu (called Kanpu by the
Chinese), which was once the port of Hangchau, but now deserted, since
the stream on which it is situated has become choked with sand. This
place is mentioned in the voyages of two Arabian travellers in the
ninth century, as the chief port of China, where all shipping centred.
The narrow entrance between Buffalo Island and Kitto Point is probably
the Gates of China mentioned by them; and Marco Polo, in 1290, says,
“The Ocean Sea comes within 25 miles of the city at a place called
Ganfu, where there is a town and an excellent haven, with a vast amount
of shipping which is engaged in the traffic to and from India and other
foreign parts.... And a great river flows from the city of Kinsay to
that sea-haven, by which vessels can come up to the city itself.”[61]
Marsden erroneously supposes Kanpu to be Ningpo. If this was in fact
the _only_ port allowed to be opened for foreign trade, it shows that,
even in the Tang dynasty, the same system of exclusion was maintained
that has so recently been broken up; though at that date the Emperors
in Shansí had very little authority along the southern coasts. The
changes in the Bay of Hangchau have been more potent causes for the
loss of trade, and Yule reasonably concludes that the upper part of it
is believed to cover now the old site in Polo’s time.
The province of FUHKIEN (_i.e._ Happily Established) is bounded on
the north by Chehkiang, north-west and west by Kiangsí, south-west by
Kwangtung, and east by the channel of Formosa. Its western borders are
determined, for the most part, by the watershed of the basins of the
rivers Min and Kan; a rugged and fertile region of the Nan shan. The
line of sea-coast is bold, and bordered with a great number of islands,
whose lofty granitic or trappean peaks extend in precipitous, barren
headlands from Namoh as far as the Chusan archipelago. In the general
features of its surface, the islands on its coasts, and its position
with reference to the ocean, it resembles the region lying east of New
Hampshire in the United States; including Formosa, it about equals
Missouri in size.
~WATER-COURSES OF FUHKIEN PROVINCE.~
The River Min is formed by the union of three large streams at Yenping
fu; it drains all the country lying east of the Wu-í (Bohea) hills,
or about three-fourths of the province. It is more than three hundred
miles long, and owing to its regular depth, is one of the most useful
streams in China; twenty-seven walled towns stand on its banks. The
tide rises eighteen or twenty feet at the entrance, and this, with the
many islands and reefs, renders the approach difficult. At Min-ngan
hien, about fourteen miles from the mouth, the stream is contracted
to less than half a mile for about three miles, the water being from
twelve to twenty-five fathoms deep; the hills on each side rise from
fifteen hundred to two thousand feet. One traveller speaks of the walls
of its forts and batteries, in this part, as affording a sort of stairs
for the more convenient ascent of the hills on which they are situated.
From the top, “the view embraces a beautiful scene; nothing can be
more picturesque than the little plats of wheat and barley intermixing
their yellow crops on the acclivities with bristling pines and arid
rocks, and crowned with garden spots, or surrounded with rice fields
and orchards of oranges. The valley of the Min, viewed from the summit
of the fortress, is truly a beautiful sight.”[62] The scenery on this
river, though of a different character, will bear comparison with that
of the Hudson for sublimity and beauty; the hills are, however, much
higher, and the country less fruitful, on the Min.
Beyond Pagoda Anchorage the passage is too shallow for large vessels,
and this obstacle tends to prevent Fuhchau from becoming a place of
commerce in keeping with its size and geographical advantages. From the
city upwards the river is partially obstructed with rocks and banks,
rendering the navigation troublesome as far as Mintsing hien, about
thirty miles above it, beyond which the strong rapids render the
passage to Yenping extremely tedious,--in high water impossible even
with trackers. The banks are steep, and the tow-rope is sometimes taken
50 to 70 feet above the water.
Mr. Stevens says of this river, that “bold, high, and romantic hills
give a uniform yet ever varying aspect to the country; but it partakes
so much of the mountainous character, that it may be truly said that
beyond the capital we saw not one plain even of small extent. Every
hill was covered with verdure from the base to the summit. The less
rugged were laid out in terraces, rising above each other sometimes to
the number of thirty or forty. On these the yellow barley and wheat
were waving over our heads. Here and there a laborer, with a bundle
of grain which he had reaped, was bringing it down on his shoulder to
thrash out. Orange, lemon, and mulberry, or other trees, sometimes
shaded a narrow strip along the banks, half concealing the cottages of
the inhabitants.”[63]
Next in size is the Lung kiang, which flows by Changchau, and
disembogues near Amoy after a course of two hundred miles. A large
number of small islands lie on the coast of Fuhkien, the first of
which, on the west, is Namoh or Nan-au, about thirteen miles long. Amoy
and Quemoy are the largest islands of a group lying off the estuary of
the Lung kiang. Chimmo Bay is north-east of Amoy, and is the entrance
of the passage up to Chinchew, or Tsiuenchau fu, the _Zayton_[64] of
Marco Polo, and still celebrated for the commercial enterprise of its
inhabitants. Before the introduction of steamers into the coasting
trade, the harbors and creeks along the provinces of Fuhkien and
Kwangtung were infested with numerous fleets of pirates, which used to
“sneak about like rats,” and prey upon the peaceful traders.
The grain raised in Fuhkien is hardly enough to support its
population, especially on the sea-board, and large quantities of rice
are brought from Siam, Formosa, and elsewhere. Black tea, camphor and
other woods, sugar, chinaware, and grass-cloth, are the principal
exports.
~APPEARANCE OF FUHCHAU.~
The city of Fuhchau (_i.e._, Happy City), or Hokchiu, as it is called
by the inhabitants, lies in lat. 26° 5′ north, and long. 119° 20′ east,
on the northern side of the Min, thirty-four miles from its mouth, and
nine from Pagoda Island. The city lies in a plain, surrounded by hills,
forming a natural and most magnificent amphitheatre of vast dimensions,
whose fertility emulates and adds to its beauty. Suburbs extend from
the walls three miles to the banks, and stretch along on both sides the
stream. They are connected with each other, and a small islet in the
river, by a stone bridge built in the eleventh century. The scenery is
bold, and such parts of the surrounding hills as are not cultivated or
used for graves, are covered with pines; some of the hills north of
the city are three thousand feet high. Opposite Fuhchau the land is
lower, and the suburb is built upon an island formed by the division of
the main channel, seven miles above the city; the branches reunite at
Pagoda Island. This island, and the plain on each side, forms a large
basin, about twenty miles long by fifteen wide. The river is crowded
with floating habitations, ferry-boats, and trading craft, rendering
its surface an animated and noisy scene. The flowers grown in pots on
the boats, and those usually worn by the boatwomen in their hair, all
assist in imparting a pleasing aspect to the lively sight.
The city walls are about thirty feet high and twelve wide at the top.
The gates, seven in number, are overlooked by high towers; smaller
guard-houses stand upon the walls at short intervals, in which a few
soldiers lodge, and where two or three cannon indicate their object.
The city is divided into wards and neighborhoods, each of which is
under its own police and headmen, who are responsible for the peace of
their respective districts.
~BUILDINGS AND TYPES OF INHABITANTS.~
From the Wu-shih shan, an eminence on the south of the city, the view
is extensive, and presents a great diversity of charming objects.
The square battlements of the wall are seen extending in a devious
and irregular circuit for more than eight miles, and inclosing most
of the buildings, except on the south. On the south-east, a hill
rises abruptly more than two hundred feet, its sides built up with
interspersed dwellings; and another on the extreme north of the city,
surmounted by a watch-tower, closes the prospect in that direction.
Two pagodas within, and fantastic looking watch-towers upon the walls,
large, regular-built granaries, and a vast number of flag-staffs
in pairs indicating temples and offices, contribute to relieve the
otherwise dull monotony, which is still further diversified by many
large trees. Several lookout houses are placed over the streets, or
upon the roofs of buildings, for the accommodation of watchmen, one
of which immediately attracts the attention of the visitor, from its
height, and its clock-dial with Roman letters. Few vacant spaces occur
within the walls of the city, which is everywhere equally well built.
Serpentine canals divide the country round about into plats of greater
or less extent, of every form and hue; while they help drain the city
and provide channels for boats coming from the river. These parts of
the landscape are dotted with hamlets and cottages, or, where the
ground is higher, with graves and tombstones. To one seated on this
eminence, the confused hum of mingling cries ascending from the town
below,--the beating of gongs, crackling of fireworks, reports of guns,
vociferous cries of hucksters and coolies, combining with the barking
of dogs and other domestic sounds, as well as those from the crows,
fish-hawks, and magpies nearer by,--inform him in the liveliest manner
that the beautiful panorama he is looking down upon is filled with
teeming multitudes in all the tide of life. On the western side of the
city is a sheet of water, called Si Hu, or West Lake, with a series of
unpretending buildings and temples lying along its margin, a bridge
crossing its expanse, and fishing-nets and boats floating upon its
bosom. The watch-tower, on the hill in the northern part of the city,
is upon the wall, which here runs near a precipice two hundred feet
high; it is a most conspicuous object when approaching the place.
The Manchus occupy the eastern side of the city, and number altogether
about 8,000 persons; the natives generally are not allowed to enter
their precincts. They live under their own officers, in much the same
style as the Chinese, and, not having any regular occupation, give no
little trouble to the provincial authorities. Though vastly larger
than Ningpo, the number of temples and substantial private residences
in Fuhchau is much less, and as a whole it is not so well built. The
streets are full of abominations, for which the people seem to care
very little. Before foreign trade attained importance, paper money
used to be issued by native mercantile firms in the city, varying in
denomination from forty cents to a thousand dollars, and supplying
all the advantages with few of the dangers of bank notes. The blue,
red, and black colors, which are blended on these promissory bills,
present a gay appearance of signatures and endorsings. The name of the
issuing house, and a number of characters traced around the page, in
bright blue ink, form the original impression. The date of issue, and
some ingeniously wrought cyphers, for the reception of signatures and
prevention of forgeries, are of a deep red; while the entry of the sum,
and names of the partners and receiver, stand forth in large black
characters. On the back are the endorsements of various individuals,
through whose hands the bill has passed, in order to facilitate the
detection of forgeries, but not rendering the writer at all liable.
These bills have now nearly disappeared, and bank bills from Hongkong
are gradually coming into use. The streets usually are thronged with
craftsmen and hucksters, in the fashion of Chinese towns, where the
shopmen, in their desire to attract buyers, seem to imagine, that the
more they get in their customers’ way, the more likely they are to sell
them something. The shops are thrown open so widely, and display such a
variety of articles, or expose the workmen so plainly, that the whole
street seems to be rather the stalls of a market, or the aisle in a
manufactory, than the town-thoroughfare.
The chief civil and military dignitaries of the province reside here,
besides the prefect and the magistrates of Min and Haukwan districts.
The _Ching-hwang miao_ is one of the largest religious edifices in the
place, and the temples of the goddess of Mercy, and god of War, the
most frequented. The _Kiu Sien shan_, or ‘Hill of the Nine Genii,’ on
the southern side of the town, is a pretty object. The city wall runs
over it, and on its sides little houses are built upon rocky steps;
numerous inscriptions are carved in the face of the rocks. Near the
eastern gate, called _Tang măn_, or ‘Bath gate,’ is a small suburb,
where Chinese and Manchus live together, and take care of many hot
wells filled from springs near by; the populace resort hither in large
crowds to wash and amuse themselves.
The citizens of Fuhchau bear the character of a reserved, proud,
rather turbulent people, unlike the polite, affable natives further
north. They are better educated, however, and plume themselves on
never having been conquered by foreigners. Their dialect is harsh,
contrasting strongly with the nasal tones of the patois of Amoy, and
the mellifluous sounds heard at Ningpo. There are few manufactures of
importance in the city, its commerce and resources depending almost
wholly on the trade with the interior by the River Min. Many culprits
wearing the cangue are to be seen in the streets, and in passing none
of the hilarious merriment which is heard elsewhere greets the ear.
There is also a general lack of courtesy between acquaintances meeting
in the highway, a circumstance quite unusual in China. Beggars crowd
the thoroughfares, showing both the poverty and the callousness of the
inhabitants. One half the male population is supposed to be addicted
to the opium pipe, and annually expend millions of dollars for this
noxious gratification. The population of the city and suburbs is
reckoned at rather over than under a million souls, including the boat
people; it is, no doubt, one of the chief cities in the Empire in size,
trade, and influence.
The island in the river is settled by a trading population, a great
part of whom consist of sailors and boatmen. The country women, who
bring vegetables and poultry to market, are a robust race, and contrast
strikingly with the sickly-looking, little-footed ladies of the city.
Fishing-boats are numerous in the river, many of which are furnished
with cormorants.[65]
~AMOY AND ITS ENVIRONS.~
Amoy is the best known port in the province, and 150 years ago was the
seat of a large foreign commerce. It lies in the district of Tung-ngan,
within the prefecture of Tsiuenchau, in lat. 24° 40′ N., and long.
118° 20′ E., upon the south-western corner of the island of Amoy, at
the mouth of the Lung Kiang. The island itself is about forty miles
in circumference, and contains scores of large villages besides the
city. The scenery within the bay is picturesque, caused partly by the
numerous islands which define it, some of them surmounted by pagodas
or temples, and partly by the high hills behind the city, and crowds
of vessels in the harbor in the foreground.[66] There is an outer and
inner city, as one approaches it seaward--or more properly a citadel
and a city--divided by a ridge of rocky hills having a fortified wall
along the top. A paved road connects the two, which is concealed from
the view of the beholder as he comes in from sea, until he has entered
the Inner harbor. The entire circuit of the city and suburbs is about
eight miles, containing a population of 185,000, while that of the
island is estimated at 100,000 more.
The harbor of Amoy is one of the best on the coast; the tide rises and
falls from fourteen to sixteen feet. The western side of the harbor is
formed by the island of Kulang su, the batteries upon it completely
commanding the city. It is about a mile long and two and three-quarters
around, and maintains a large rural population, scattered among four
or five hamlets. The foreign residences scattered over its hills add
measurably to the charm of its aspect when viewed from the harbor.
Eastward of Amoy is the island of Quemoy (_i.e._, Golden harbor), whose
low, rice grounds on the south-west shore produce a very different
effect as opposed to the high land on Amoy; its population is,
moreover, much less.
The country in this part of Fuhkien is thickly settled and highly
cultivated. Mr. Abeel, describing a trip toward Tung-ngan, says, “For
a few miles up, the hills wore the same rugged, barren aspect which is
so common on the southern coast of China, but fertility and cultivation
grew upon us as we advanced; the mountains on the east became hills,
and these were adorned with fields. The villages were numerous at
intervals; many of them were indicated in the distance by large groves
of trees, but generally the landscape looked naked. Well-sweeps were
scattered over the cultivated hills, affording evidence of the need and
the means of irrigation.”[67]
In the other direction, toward Changchau, the traveller, beyond Pagoda
Island, enters an oval bay ten or twelve miles long, bounded by
numerous plains rising in the distance into steep barren mountains,
and upon which numerous villages are found; twenty-three were counted
at once by Mr. Abeel, and the boatmen said that all could not be seen.
Several large towns, and “villages uncounted” are visible in every
direction, as one proceeds up the river toward Changchau, thirty-five
miles from Amoy. This city is well built, the streets paved with
granite, some of them twelve feet wide, and intolerably offensive. A
bridge, about eight hundred feet long, spans the river, consisting
of beams stretching from one abutment to another, covered with cross
pieces. From the hill-top behind a temple at the north-western corner
of the city, the prospect is charming.
“Imagine an amphitheatre,” says Mr. Lowrie, “thirty miles in length
and twenty in breadth, hemmed in on all sides by bare pointed hills, a
river running through it, an immense city at our feet, with fields of
rice and sugar-cane, noble trees and numerous villages stretching away
in every direction. It was grand and beautiful beyond every conception
we had ever formed of Chinese scenery. Beneath us lay the city, its
shape nearly square, curving a little on the river’s banks, closely
built, and having an amazing number of very large trees within and
around. The guide said that in the last dynasty it had numbered 700,000
inhabitants, and now he thought it contained a million--probably a
large allowance. The villages around also attracted our attention. I
tried to enumerate them, but after counting thirty-nine of large size
distinctly visible in less than half the field before us, I gave over
the attempt. It is certainly within the mark to say that within the
circuit of this immense plain there are at least one hundred villages,
some of them small, but many numbering hundreds and even thousands of
inhabitants.”[68]
Changchau was the last city in the eastern provinces held by the
Tai-pings, a small remnant of their forces having come across the
country after the loss of Nanking. They were expelled in 1866, after
the town had suffered much from the contending forces. Traces of this
destruction have not yet entirely disappeared from the vicinity.
Shihma, or Chiohbé, is a place of some trade, extending a mile along
the shore, and larger than Haitang hien, a district town between it and
Amoy. Large numbers of people dwell in boats on this river, rendering
a voyage up its channel somewhat like going through a street, for the
noise and bustle.
The city of Chinchew (or Tsiuenchau), north of Amoy, was once the
larger of the two. It is described by Marco Polo, who reached it after
five days’ journey from Fuhchau, meeting with a constant succession
of flourishing cities, towns and villages. “At this city is the haven
of Zayton, frequented by all the ships from India, ... and by all
the merchants of Manzi, for hither is imported the most astonishing
quantity of goods and of precious stones and pearls.... For it is one
of the two greatest havens in the world for commerce.”[69] It was
gradually forsaken for Amoy, which was more accessible to junks. From
Zayton, Kublai Khan’s expedition to Java and Japan sailed, and here
the men from Egypt and Arabia traded for silks, sugar, and spices long
after the Portuguese reached China.
The department of Hinghwa, situate on the coast between Tsiuenchau and
Fuhchau, is exceedingly populous, and its dialect differs distinctly
from both of the adjoining prefectures. Its people have a bad
reputation, and female infanticide prevails here to a greater degree
than elsewhere. At Yenping, on the Min River, the people speak the
dialect of Nanking, showing their origin of not many scores of years
past; there are many patois in these hilly parts of Fuhkien, and the
province as a whole exhibits probably greater discrepancies in its
dialects than any other. Its produce is exported north and west, as
well as coastwise, and this intercourse tends to assimilate the speech
of the inhabitants with their neighbors. The natural scenery in the
ranges near the Bohea Hills in the borders of Kiangsí attracts visitors
from afar. Fortune describes the picturesque grouping of steep rocks,
lonely temples on jutting ledges and hidden adits, alternating with
hamlets, along the banks of the stream which carries the boats and
produce away to a market. The rocks and cliffs here have furnished
Chinese artists with many subjects for pen and pencil, while the valley
in addition to its natural beauty brings forth the best of teas.
~THE ISLAND OF FORMOSA.~
The island of Formosa, lying 90 miles west of Amoy, together with the
Pescadore group, forms a department called Taiwan. The former is a
fertile, well-watered region, possessing a salubrious climate, and
meriting in every respect its name _Formosa_--a descriptive term first
given by the Portuguese to their settlement at Kilung in 1590, and
extended afterward to the entire island. Its total length is about
235 miles, while the width at the centre is not far from 80 miles;
the limits of Chinese jurisdiction do not, however, embrace more
than the western or level portion, leaving to untamed aborigines the
thickly wooded districts beyond the _Muh kan shan_, a lofty range of
mountains running north and south and forming the backbone of the
island. The western coast presents no good harbors, and vessels lying
a long distance off shore are exposed to the double inconvenience of a
dangerous anchorage and an inhospitable reception from the natives; the
eastern side is still less inviting, owing to its possession by savage
tribes. From recent reports it appears, moreover, that the whole coast
line is rising with unusual persistence and regularity, and that the
streams are being choked up at their mouths.
The aborigines of this island are, in those districts that remain
uncontaminated by mixture with Chinese settlers, a remarkably
well-built, handsome race, strong, large of eye, bold, and devoted to
hunting and ardent spirits (when the latter is procurable), after the
manner of wild people the world over; no written language exists among
them, nor do they employ any fixed method of reckoning time. They and
the inhabitants of Lewchew and neighboring islands are probably of the
same race with the Philippine Tagalas, though some have supposed them
to be of Malay or Polynesian origin. Like the North American Indians
they are divided into numerous clans, whose mutual feuds are likely
to last until one party or another is exterminated; this turbulence
restrains them from any united action against the Chinese, whose
occupation of the island has always been irksome to the natives. Their
social condition is extremely low; though free from the petty vices of
thieving and deception, and friendly toward strangers, the principle of
blood-requital holds among them with full force, and family revenge is
usually the sole object of life among the men. No savage is esteemed
who has not beheaded a Chinaman, while the greater the number of heads
brought home from a fray, the higher the position of a brave in the
community. The women are forced to attend both to house and field, but
share the laziness of their masters, insomuch that they never cut from
the growing rice or millet more than enough for the day’s provision.
“Although these people have men’s forms,” observes a Chinese writer in
the peculiar antithetical style common to their literary productions,
“they have not men’s natures. To govern them is impossible; to
exterminate them not to be thought of; and so nothing can be done with
them. The only thing left is to establish troops with cannon at all the
passes through which they issue on their raids, and so overawe them,
by military display, from coming out of their fastnesses. The savage
tracks lie only through the dense forests, thick with underbrush, where
hiding is easy. When they cut off a head, they boil it to separate
the flesh, adorn the skull with various ornaments, and hang it up in
their huts as evidence of their valor.” In addition to a few native
clans who have submitted to the rulers from the mainland and dwell
in the border region between the colonists and aborigines proper, a
peculiarly situated race, called _Hakkas_, maintains a neutral position
between the hill tribes and the Chinese. These people were formerly
industrious but persecuted inhabitants of Kwangtung province, who, in
order to better their lot, emigrated to Formosa and established close
communication with the natives there, making themselves indispensable
to them by procuring arms, powder, and manufactured goods, while owing
to their industry they were able in time to monopolize the camphor
trade. Though retaining the Chinese costume and shaving their heads,
they practically ignore Chinese rule, paying tribute and intermarrying
with the mountaineers, from whom they have also obtained large tracts
of land.
~PRODUCTIONS OF FORMOSA.~
Maize, potatoes, fruits, tobacco, indigo, sugar, rice, and tea, are
all grown on this island, the three latter in rapidly increasing
quantities for purposes of export. Of natural products salt, coal,
sulphur, petroleum, and camphor are of the first importance. The vast
coal basins have hardly been opened or even explored, the only mines
now worked being those in the northern part, near Kilung. Native
methods of mining are, however, the only ones employed thus far, and
it is not surprising, considering their extreme simplicity, that they
have not been able to extract coal from remote districts, where the
natural difficulties encountered are greatest. Hand labor alone is
used, and draining a pit unheard of--compelling a speedy abandoning of
the mines when pierced to any great depth in the mountain side. The
cost of the coal at the mouth of the pit is about 65 cents per ton
for the first qualities, which price improved methods might reduce a
third. The presence of volcanoes on this island will, nevertheless,
present a serious obstacle to the employment of western mining
machinery, especially along the coast, where the measures appear
to be excessively dislocated and the work of draining is rendered
more difficult. Petroleum is abundant in certain tracts of northern
Formosa, flowing plentifully from crevices in the hills, and used to
some extent for burning and medicinal purposes by the natives, but not
exported. The possibilities of a large sulphur trade are much more
important. It is brought from solfatarae and geysers at Tah-yu kang,
near Kilung, where it is found in a nearly pure state, as well, too,
as a great quantity of sulphurous acid which might with profit be used
in the sugar refineries on the island. The manufacture of sulphur
is, however, forbidden by treaty, though its exportation goes on in
small quantities, the contractors taking on themselves all risk of
seizure. Camphor, perhaps the greatest source of wealth to Formosa,
is obtained here by saturating small sticks of the wood with steam,
not by boiling as in Japan. The crystals of camphor condense in a
receiver placed above the furnace; during the process of distillation
an essential oil is produced, which when chemically treated with nitric
acid becomes solid camphor. The trees from which the wood is cut grow
in the most inaccessible tracts of the island, and are, according to
all descriptions, of immense extent, though chopped down by the natives
without discrimination or idea of encouraging a second growth.
Among the most interesting natural phenomena of this district are the
so-called volcanoes, whose occasional eruptions have been noticed by
many. Mr. Le Gendre, United States Consul at Amoy in 1869, upon a visit
to Formosa took occasion to examine more closely into this subject.
It appears from his report[70] that a gas is constantly issuing from
the earth, and when a hole to the depth of a few inches is made it
can be lighted. It is most likely, he continues, that from time to
time gas jets break forth at points of the hills where they had not
been observed before, rushing through its long grass and forests of
huge trees, and the rock oil which as a general thing flows in their
vicinity. As they are apt to spontaneously ignite in contact with the
atmosphere, they must set fire to these materials and cause a local
conflagration, that gives to the many peaks of the chain the appearance
of volcanoes.
~FORMOSA AND THE PESCADORES.~
Previous to the first half of the fifteenth century the Chinese had
little knowledge of Formosa, nor was their sway established over any
part of it until 1683. It was never really colonized, and became
a misgoverned and refractory region from the earliest attempts at
subjection. A great emigration is constantly going on from the main,
and lands are taken up by capitalists, who not only encourage the
people in settling there, but actually purchase large numbers of
poor people to occupy these districts. Taiwan fu, the seat of local
government, is the largest place on the island; other harbors or
places of importance are Ku-sia and Takow, some miles south of Taiwan,
the latter, with Tamsui, on the north-west coast, being one of the
recently opened ports of trade. Kílung possesses a good harbor and is
the entrepôt of goods for the northern end of the island. Since the
opening (in 1861) of these three towns to foreign intercourse, and the
more careful examination of the neutral territory at the foot of the
mountains, the resources, peoples, and condition of this productive
isle have become better known.
It may be of interest to refer, before leaving Formosa, to the
extraordinary fabulous history of the island by one George Psalmanazar,
the _nom de plume_ of a remarkable impostor of the commencement of
the eighteenth century, who pretended to be a Japanese convert to
Christianity from Formosa, and who created a profound sensation in
Europe by the publication in Latin of a fictitious notice of that
country.[71]
About twenty-five miles west of Formosa, and attached to Taiwan fu,
is the district of _Pănghu ting_ or Pescadore Islands, consisting of
a group of twenty-one inhabited islets, the largest of which, called
Pănghu, is eighty-four miles in circumference; none of them rise three
hundred feet above the sea. The two largest, called Pănghu and Fisher
Islands, are situated near the centre of the cluster, and have an
excellent harbor between them. The want of trees, and the absence of
sheltered valleys, give these islands a barren appearance. Millet,
ground-nuts, pine-apples, sweet potatoes, and vegetables are grown, but
for most of their supplies they depend upon Formosa. The population of
the group is estimated at 8000, of whom a large part are fishermen. The
Dutch seized these islands in 1622, and attempted to fortify them by
forced Chinese laborers, but removed to Formosa two years after at the
instance of the governor of Fuhkien.
FOOTNOTES:
[24] Bridgman’s _Chinese Chrestomathy_, p. 420. Macao, 1841.
[25] Compare an article in the _China Review_ for September-October,
1881, by H. Fritsche: _The Amount of Rain and Snow in Peking_.
[26] _Annales de la Foi_, Tome XVI., p. 293.
[27] _Chinese Repository_, Vol. VIII., p. 230; Vol. IV., p. 197.
See also Fritsche’s paper in _Journal of N. C. Branch Royal Asiatic
Society_, No. XII., 1878, pp. 127-335; also Appendix II. in No. X.,
containing observations taken at Zi-ka-wei.
[28] _Chinese Repository_, Vol. IV., p. 54.
[29] This word should not be written Pekin; it is pronounced
_Pei-ching_ by the citizens, and by most of the people north of the
Great River.
[30] “You would think them all made of, or at least covered with, pure
gold enamelled in azure and green, so that the spectacle is at once
majestic and charming.” Magaillans, _Nouvelle Description de la Chine_,
p. 353.
[31] See also _L’Univers Pittoresque, Chine Moderne_, par MM. Pauthier
et Bazin, Paris, 1853, for a good map of Peking, with careful
descriptions. Yule’s _Marco Polo_, passim. De Guigues, _Voyages_, Tome
I. Williamson, _Journeys in North China_, Vol. II. Dr. Rennie, _Peking
and the Pekingese_. _Tour du Monde_ for 1864, Tome II.
[32] _Chinese Repository_, Vol. IX., p. 259.
[33] Dr. Martin, _The Chinese_ (New York, 1881), p. 85.
[34] Compare Kircher, _China Illustrata_, where an engraving of it may
be seen. A bell near Mandalay, mentioned by Dr. Anderson, is 12 feet
high, 16 feet across the lips, and weighs 90 tons--evidently a heavier
monster than this in Peking. (_Mandalay to Momien_, p. 18.)
[35] _Chinese Repository_, Vol. IV., p. 181.
[36] Compare the _Annales de la Foi_, Tome X., p. 100, for interesting
details concerning the Romish missionaries in Peking. Also Pauthier’s
_Chine Moderne_, pp. 8-36 (Paris, 1852), containing an excellent map.
Bretschneider’s _Archeological and Historical Researches on Peking_,
etc., published in the _Chinese Recorder_, Vol. VI. (1875, passim).
_Mémoires concernant l’Histoire, les Sciences, les Arts, les Moeurs,
les Usages, etc., des Chinois, par les Missionnaires de Pekin_; 16
vols., Paris, 1797-1814. N. B. Dennys, _Notes for Tourists in the North
of China_; Hongkong, 1866.
[37] _Journal of Lord Amherst’s Embassy to China_, 2d ed., p. 22.
London, 1840.
[38] _Travels of the Russian Mission through Mongolia to China_, Vol.
I., p. 293. London, 1827.
[39] Williamson, _Journeys in North China_, Vol. II., p. 90.
[40] _Journal of the Roy. Geog. Soc._, 1874. Yule’s _Marco Polo_,
Vol. I., pp. 263-268. _Cathay and the Way Thither_, Vol. I., p. 134.
Gerbillon, _Mémoires concernant les Chinois_ (Astley’s ed.), Vol. IV.,
pp. 701-716. _Journal Asiatique_, Ser. II., Tome XI., p. 345. Huc,
_Tartary, etc._, Vol. I., p. 34, 2d ed., London.
[41] Sir G. L. Staunton, _Account of an Embassy from the King of Great
Britain to the Emperor of China_. 2 vols. Lond., 1796.
[42] _Annales de la Foi_, 1844, Tome XVI., p. 421.
[43] _Sketches of China_, Vol. I., p. 257.
[44] _Chinese Repository_, Vol. IV., pp. 308-335. W. H. Medhurst’s
_China_, chaps. xv.-xix.
[45] Richthofen, _China_. Band I. S. 68. Rev. Arthur Smith, _Glimpses
of Travel in the Middle Kingdom_. Shanghai, 1875.
[46] The curious reader can consult the article by Mayer, in Vol. XII.
of the _North China Branch Royal Asiatic Society’s Journal_, 1878, for
the meaning of these various objects.
[47] _Five Years in China_, Nashville, Tenn., 1860. See also _Voyages
of the Nemesis_, pp. 450-452, for further details of this city in 1842;
the _Chinese Repository_, Vols. I., p. 257, and XIII., p. 261, contain
more details on the Pagoda.
[48] _Travels in China._
[49] Capt. G. G. Loch, _Events in China_, p. 74.
[50] Mentioned by Marco Polo. Yule’s edition, Vol. II., p. 137.
[51] Fortune’s _Wanderings in China_, p. 120.
[52] Davis’s _Sketches_, Vol. II., p. 55.
[53] See _Chinese Repository_, Vol. IV., p. 488; _Journal of N. C. Br.
R. A. Society_, Vol. VI., pp. 123-128; and _Chinese Recorder_, Vol. I.,
1869, pp. 241-248. These people are relics of tribes of Miaotsz’.
[54] Yule’s _Marco Polo_, Vol. II., p. 145.
[55] _Travels in China_, p. 522.
[56] Yule’s _Marco Polo_, Vol. II., p. 146.
[57] De Guignes, _Voyages à Peking_, Vol. II., pp. 65-77.
[58] Compare R. M. Martin’s _China_ (Vol. II., p. 304), who gives
considerable miscellaneous information about the open ports, previous
to 1846; also Dennys’ _Treaty Ports of China_, 1867, pp. 326-349;
Richthofen’s _Letters_, No. 5, 1871; Yule’s _Marco Polo_, Vol. II., p.
181; _Missionary Recorder_, 1869, pp. 156, 177.
[59] Milne, in _Chinese Repository_, Vol. XIII., p. 22, and in his
_Life in China_, part second. London, 1857.
[60] Medhurst’s _China, its State and Prospects_, p. 393.
[61] Yule’s _Marco Polo_, Vol. II., p. 149. _Cathay and the Way
Thither_, p. cxciii. Reinaud, _Relations des Voyages faits par les
Arabes dans l’Inde et à la Chine, etc._ (Paris, 1845), Tome I., p. 19.
[62] Borget, _La Chine Ouverte_, p. 126.
[63] _Chinese Repository_, Vol. IV., p. 92.
[64] Yule’s _Marco Polo_, Vol. II., pp. 183-185, etc. A Turkish
geography, printed at Constantinople, describes this port under the
name of _Zeitoun_. Compare Klaproth, _Mémoires sur l’Asie_, Tome II.,
p. 208. See further, _Chinese Recorder_, Vol. III., p. 87; Vol. IV., p.
77; Vol. V., p. 327, and Vol. VI., p. 31, sqq.
[65] _Chinese Repository_, Vol. XV., pp. 185, 225.
[66] The _Boston Missionary Herald_ for 1845 (p. 87) contains a notice
of the “White Deer Cavern,” in the neighborhood.
[67] _Chinese Repository_, Vol. XI., p. 506.
[68] _Chinese Repository_, Vol. XII., p. 530; Fortune’s _Tea
Districts_, chaps. xiv. and xv.
[69] Yule’s _Marco Polo_, Vol. II., p. 186.
[70] _Commercial Relations between the U. S. and Foreign Nations._ 1869.
[71] “_An Historical and Geographical Description of Formosa, an
Island subject to the Emperor of Japan_,” etc. Klaproth (_Mémoires
sur l’Asie_, Tome I., p. 321) translates an account of this island
from Chinese sources. E. C. Taintor, _The Aborigines of Northern
Formosa_--Shanghai, 1874--read before the North China branch of the
Royal Asiatic Society. _Chinese Repository_, Vol. II., p. 408, and Vol.
V., p. 480.
CHAPTER III.
GEOGRAPHICAL DESCRIPTION OF THE WESTERN PROVINCES.
~THE PROVINCE OF HUPEH.~
The central provinces of Hupeh and Hunan formerly constituted a single
one under the name of Hukwang (_i.e._ Broad Lakes), and they are still
commonly known by this appellation. HUPEH (_i.e._ North of the Lakes)
is the smaller of the two, but contains the most arable land. It is
bounded north by Honan, east by Nganhwui and Kiangsí, south by Hunan,
and west by Sz’chuen and Shensí. Its area is about 70,000 square miles,
or slightly above that of New England.
The Great River flows through the south, where it connects with all
the lakes on both its shores, and nearly doubles its volume of water.
The Han kiang, or Han shui rises in the southwest of Shensí, between
the Fuh-niu shan and Tapa ling, and drains the south of that province
and nearly the whole of Hupeh, joining the Yangtsz’ at Wuchang. It is
very tortuous in its course, flowing about 1,300 miles in all, and is
navigable only a portion of the year, during the freshes, as far as
Siangyang, about 300 miles. Boats of small size come down, however,
at all times from Sin-pu-wan, near its source in Shensí. The mouth is
not over 200 feet broad, but the bed of the river as one ascends soon
widens to 400 and 500 feet, and at Shayang, 168 miles from Hankow, it
is half a mile wide. The area of its whole basin is about the same as
the province.
The extraordinary effects of a large body of melted snow poured into
a number of streams converging on the slopes of a range of hills, and
then centring in a narrow valley, bringing their annual deposit of
alluvial and silt are seen along the River Han. The rise of this stream
is often fifty feet where it is narrowest, and the shores are high; at
Íching the channel varies from 300 to 1,500 feet at different seasons,
but the river-bed from 2,000 to 9,000 feet, the water rising 18 feet
at the fresh. In these wide places, the river presents the aspect of a
broad, winding belt of sand dunes, in which the stream meanders in one
or many channels. Navigation, therefore, is difficult and dangerous,
since moving sands shift the deep water from place to place, and boats
are delayed or run aground. In high water the banks are covered, but
the current is then almost as serious an obstacle as the shallows are
in winter.
The southeastern part of Hupeh is occupied by an extensive depression
filled with a succession of lakes. The length and breadth of this
plain are not far from two hundred miles, and it is considered the
most fertile part of China, not being subject to overflows like the
shores of the Yellow River, while the descent of the land allows its
abundance of water to be readily distributed. Every spot is cultivated,
and the surplus of productions is easily transported wherever there is
a demand. The portions nearest the Yangtsz’ are too low for constant
cultivation.
The Ax Lake, Millet Lake, Red Horse Lake, and Mienyang Lake, are
the largest in the province. The remaining parts of both the Lake
provinces are hilly and mountainous; the high range of the Ta-peh shan
(‘Great White Mountains’), commencing far into Shensí, extends to the
west of Hupeh, and separates the basins of the Great River from its
tributary, the Han kiang, some of its peaks rising to the snow line.
The productions of Hupeh are bread-stuffs, silk, cotton, tea, fish,
and timber; its manufactures are paper, wax, and cloth. The climate is
temperate and healthy.
~WUCHANG AND HANKOW.~
The favorable situation of Wuchang, the provincial capital, has drawn
to it most of the trade, which has caused in the course of years the
settlement of Hanyang and Hankow on the northern bank of the Yangtsz’
and River Han. The number of vessels gathered here in former years
from the other cities on these two streams was enormous, and gave rise
to exaggerated ideas of the value of the trade. The introduction of
steamers has destroyed much of this native commerce, and the cities
themselves suffered dreadfully by the Tai-pings, from which they are
rapidly recovering, and on a surer foundation. The cities lie in lat.
30° 33′ N. and long. 114° 20′ E., 582 geographical miles distant from
Shanghai.
Wuchang is the residence of the provincial officers, the Manchu
garrison, and a literary population of influence, while the working
part depends mostly on Hankow for employment. Its walls are over twelve
miles in circuit, inclosing more vacant than occupied surface, whose
flatness is relieved by a range of low hills that extend beyond Hanyang
on the other side of the river. The narrow streets are noisome from the
offal, and in summer are sources of malaria, as the drainage is bad.
When Hankow was opened to foreign trade in 1861, it presented a most
ruinous appearance, but the sense of security inspired by the presence
of the men and vessels from far lands rapidly drew the scattered
citizens and artisans to rebuild the ruins. The foreigners live near
the river side, east of Hankow and west of the River Han, where the
anchorage is very favorable, and out of the powerful current of the
Yangtsz’. The difference in level of the great stream is about forty
feet in the year. In the long years of its early and peaceful trade up
to 1850, this region had gathered probably more people on a given area
than could be found elsewhere in the world; and its repute for riches
led foreigners to base great hopes on their share, which have been
gradually dissipated. The appearance of the city as it was in 1845 is
given by Abbé Huc in a few sentences:
“The night had already closed in when we reached the place where
the river is entirely covered with vessels, of every size and form,
congregated here from all parts. I hardly think there is another port
in the world so frequented as this, which passes, too, as among the
most commercial in the empire. We entered one of the open ways, a sort
of a street having each side defined by floating shops, and after four
hours’ toilsome navigation through this difficult labyrinth, arrived at
the place of debarkation. For the space of five leagues, one can only
see houses along the shore, and an infinitude of beautiful and strange
looking vessels in the river, some at anchor and others passing up and
down at all hours.”[72]
The coup d’œil of these three cities is beautiful, their environs
being highly cultivated and interspersed with the mansions of the
great; but he adds, “If you draw near, you will find on the margin of
the river only a shapeless bank worn away with freshets, and in the
streets stalls surmounted with palisades, and workshops undermined by
the waters or tumbling to pieces from age. The open spots between these
ruins are filled with abominations which diffuse around a suffocating
odor. No regulations respecting the location of the dwellings, no
sidewalks, no place to avoid the crowd which presses upon one, elbowing
and disputing the passage, but all get along pell-mell, in the midst of
cattle, hogs, and other domestic animals, each protecting himself as he
best can from the filth in his way, which the Chinese collect with care
for agricultural uses, and carry along in little open buckets through
the crowd.”
Above Hankow, the towns on the Yangtsz’ lie nearer its banks, as they
are not so exposed to the freshets. The largest trading places in
this part of Hupeh on the river, are Shasí, opposite Kinchau fu, and
Íchang near the borders of Sz’chuen, respectively 293 and 363 miles
distance. From the first settlement there is a safe passage by canal
across to Shayang, forty miles away on the River Han; the travel
thence goes north to Shansí. The other has recently been opened to
foreign trade. It is the terminus of navigation for the large vessels
used from Shanghai upward, as the rapids commence a few miles beyond,
necessitating smaller craft that can be hauled by trackers. These two
marts are large centres of trade and travel, and were not made desolate
by the Tai-pings, as were all other towns of importance on the lower
Yangtsz’.
The portion of the Yangtsz’ in this province, between Íchang and the
Sz’chuen border, exhibits perhaps some of the most magnificent glimpses
of scenery in the world. Breaking through the limestone foundations
that dip on either side of the granite core of the rapids, the river
first penetrates the Wu shan, Mitan, and Lukan gorges on the one side,
then the long defile of Íchang on the other. At various points between
and beyond these the stream is broken by more or less formidable
rapids. Among these grand ravines the most impressive, though not the
longest, is that of Lukan, whose vertical walls rise a thousand feet
or more above the narrow river. Nothing can be more striking, observes
Blakiston, than suddenly coming upon this huge split in the mountain
mass “by which the river escapes as through a funnel.”
The eastern portions of Hupeh are rougher than the southern, and were
overrun during the rebellion by armed bands, so that their best towns
were destroyed. Siangyang fu and Fanching, near the northern borders,
are important places in the internal commerce of this region. Its many
associations with leading events in Chinese early and feudal history
render it an interesting region to native scholars. A large part of
the southwestern prefecture of Shingan is hilly, and its mountainous
portions are inhabited by a rude, illiterate population, many of whom
are partly governed by local rulers.
[Illustration: JUKAN GORGE, YANGTSZ’ RIVER.]
~NATURAL AND POLITICAL FEATURES OF HUNAN.~
The province of HUNAN is bounded north by Hupeh, east by Kiangsí, south
by Kwangtung and Kwangsí, west by Kweichau and Sz’chuen. Its area is
reckoned at 84,000 square miles--equal to Great Britain or the State of
Kansas. It is drained by four rivers, whose basins comprise nearly the
whole province, and define its limits by their terminal watersheds. The
largest is the Siang, which, rising in the hills on the south and east
in numerous navigable streams, affords facilities for trade in small
boats to the borders of Kiangsí and Kwangtung, the traffic concentring
at Siangtan; this fertile and populous basin occupies well-nigh half
of the province. Through the western part of Hunan runs the Yuen
kiang, but the rapids and cascades occur so frequently as to render
it far less useful than the Siang. Boats are towed up to the towns
in the south-west with great labor, carrying only four or five tons
cargo; these are exchanged for mere scows at Hangkia, 200 miles above
Changteh, in order to reach Yuenchau. The contrast between the two
rivers as serviceable channels of intercourse is notable. Between these
two main rivers runs the Tsz’ kiang, navigable for only small batteaux,
which must be pulled up so many rapids that the river itself has been
called Tan ho, or ‘Rapid River;’ its basin is narrow and fertile, and
the produce is carried to market over the hills both east and west.
The fourth river, the Lí shui, empties, like all the others, into the
Tungting Lake, and drains the northwestern portion of the province;
it is navigable only in its lower course, and is almost useless for
travel. These rivers all keep their own channels through the lake,
which is rather a cesspool for the overflow of the Yangtsz’ during
its annual rise than a lake fed by its own springs and affluents. At
Siangyin, on the River Siang, the banks are 35 feet above low water,
and gradually slope down to its mouth at Yohchau, or near it. The
variation of this lake from a large sheet of water at one season to a
marsh at another, must of course affect the whole internal trade of the
province, inasmuch as the rivers running through it are in a continual
condition of flood or low water--either extreme cannot but seriously
interfere with steam vessels.
The productions of Hunan do not represent a very high development
of its soil or mines. Tea and coal are the main exports; tea-oil,
ground-nut and _tung_ oils, hemp, tobacco, and rice, with iron, copper,
tin, and coarse paper make up the list. The coal-fields of southern
Hunan contain deposits equal to those in Pennsylvania; anthracite
occurs on the River Lui, and bituminous on the River Siang, both beds
reaching over the border into Kwangtung. The timber trade in pine, fir,
laurel, and other woods is also important. The population of Hunan was
somewhat reduced during the Tai-ping rebellion; its inhabitants have
in general a bad reputation among their countrymen for violence and
rudeness. The hilly nature of the country tends to segregate them into
small communities, which are imperfectly acquainted with each other,
because travelling is difficult; nor is the soil fertile enough to
support in many districts a considerable increase of population.
The capital of Hunan, Changsha, lies on the River Siang, and is one
of the most influential, as it is historically one of the most
interesting, cities in the central part of China; the festival of
the Dragon Boats originated here. Siangtan, at the confluence of the
Lien kí, more than 200 miles above Yohchau, is one of the greatest
tea-marts in China. Its population is reckoned to be a million, and it
is a centre of trade and banking for the products of this and other
regions; it extends for three miles along the west bank, and nearly two
miles inland, with thousands of boats lining the shores. Its return to
prosperity since the rebellion has been marvellously rapid. The city of
Changteh on the Yuen River is the next important town, as it is easily
reached from Yohchau on the Yangtsz’; large amounts of rice are grown
in the prefecture.
Hunan has a high position for letters, the people are well dressed,
healthy, and usually peaceable. The boating population is, however,
exceptionally lawless, and forms a difficult class for the local
authorities to control. Aboriginal hill-tribes exist in the
southwestern districts, which are still more unmanageable, probably
through the unjust taxation and oppression of the imperial officers
set over them. In addition to these ungovernable elements a large area
is occupied by the _Yao-jin_, who have possessed themselves of the
elevated territory lying between Yungchau and Kweiyang, in the southern
point of the province, and there barricaded the mountain passes so that
no one can ascend against their will.
~MOUNTAINS AND RIVERS OF SHENSÍ.~
The province of SHENSÍ (_i.e._, Western Defiles) is bounded north by
Inner Mongolia, from which it is divided by the Great Wall, east by
Shansí and Honan, southeast by Hupeh, south by Sz’chuen, and west
by Kansuh. Its area is not far from 70,000 square miles, which is
geologically and politically most distinctly marked by the Tsingling
shan, the watershed between the Wei and Han rivers. There is only one
good road across it to Hanchung fu near its southern part; another,
farther east, goes from Sí-ngan, by a natural pass between it and the
Fuh-niu shan, to Shang, on the Tan ho, in the Han basin. This part
comprises about one-third of Shensí. The other portion includes the
basins of the Wei, Loh and Wu-ting, and some smaller tributaries of
the Yellow River, of which the Wei is the most important. This river
joins the Yellow at the lowest point of its basin, the Tung-kwan pass,
where the larger stream breaks through into the lowlands of Honan, and
divides eastern and southern China from the northwestern regions. The
whole of this part presents a loess formation, and the beds of the
streams are cut deep into it, the roads across them being few. The Wei
basin is the most fertile part of the province; the history of the
Chinese race has been more connected with its fortunes than with any
other portion of their possessions. Its productiveness is shown in the
rapid development and peopling of the districts along the banks and
affluents.
On the north, the Great Wall separates Shensí from the Ordos Mongols,
its western end reaching the Yellow River at Ninghia--the largest and
only important city in that region. All the connections with this
region are through Shensí and by Kwei-hwa-ching, but the configuration
of the ranges of hills prevents direct travel. None of the rivers in
this region are serviceable to any great degree for navigation, and
but few of them for irrigation; the crops depend on the rainfall. The
climate is more equable and mild than in Shansí, and not so wet as in
many parts of Kansuh. The harvests of one good year here furnish food
for three poor ones. The chief dependence of the people is on wheat,
but rice is grown wherever water can be had; sorghum, millet, pulse,
maize, barley, ground-nut, and fruits of many sorts fill up the list.
Cotton, hemp, tobacco, rapeseed, and poppy are largely cultivated, but
the surplus of any crop is not enough in average years to leave much
for export. The ruthless civil war recently quenched in the destruction
of the Mohammedans in the province has left it quite desolate in many
parts, and its restoration to former prosperity and population must be
slow.
The travel between Shensí and Sz’chuen is almost wholly confined to
the great road reaching from Sí-ngan to Chingtu. It passes along the
River Wei to Hienyang hien on the left bank, where the road north into
Kansuh diverges, the other continuing west along the river through a
populous region to Paokí hien, where it recrosses the Wei. During this
portion, the Tai-peh Mountain, about eleven thousand feet high, with
its white summit, adds a prominent feature to the scenery. At Paokí,
the crossing at the Tsingling shan commences, and occupies seven days
of difficult travel through a devious road of 163 miles to Fung hien
on the confines of Kansuh. It crosses successive ridges from 6,000 to
9,000 feet high, and is carried along the sides of hills and down the
gorges in a manner reflecting much credit on the engineers of the third
century A.D. who made it. These mountainous regions are thinly settled
all the way down to Paoching, near Hanchung; but upon gaining the River
Han, one of the most beautiful and fertile valleys in China is reached.
Its western watershed is the Kiu-tiao shan,[73] running southwesterly
into Sz’chuen on the west side of the Kialing River.
~SÍ-NGAN ITS CAPITAL.~
The city of Sí-ngan is the capital of the northwest of China, and next
to Peking in size, population, and importance. It surpasses that city
in historical interest and records, and in the long centuries of its
existence has upheld its earlier name of _Chang-an_, or ‘Continuous
Peace.’ The approach to it from the east lies across a bluff, whose
eastern face is filled with houses cut in the dry earth, and from whose
summit the lofty towers and imposing walls are seen across the plain
three miles away. These defences were too solid for the Mohammedan
rebels, and protected the citizens while even their suburbs were
burned. The population occupies the entire enciente, and presents a
heterogeneous sprinkling of Tibetans, Mongols and Tartars, of whom many
thousand Moslems are still spared because they were loyal. Sí-ngan has
been taken and retaken, rebuilt and destroyed, since its establishment
in the twelfth century B.C. by the Martial King, but its position has
always assured for it the control of trade between the central and
western provinces and Central Asia. The city itself is picturesquely
situated, and contains some few remains of its ancient importance,
while the neighborhood promises better returns to the sagacious
antiquarian and explorer than any portion of China. The principal
record of the Nestorian mission work in China, the famous tablet of
A.D. 781, still remains in the yard of a temple. Some miles to the
northwest lies the temple Ta-fu-sz’, containing a notable colossus
of Buddha, the largest in China, said to have been cut by one of the
Emperors of the Tang in the ninth century. This statue is in a cave
hewn out of the sandstone rock, being cut out of the same material
and left in the construction of the grotto. Its height is 56 feet;
the proportions of limbs and body of the sitting figure are, on the
whole, good, the Buddha being represented with right hand upraised in
blessing, and the figure as well as garments richly covered with color
and gilt. Before the god stand two smaller colossi of the _Schang-hoa_,
Buddha’s favorite disciples; their inferior art and workmanship,
however, testify to a later origin. The cave is lighted from above,
after the manner of the Pantheon, by a single round opening in the
vaulting. Sixty feet over the rock temple rises a tile roofing, and
upon the hillside without the cavern are a number of minor temples and
statues.[74]
Next to this city in importance is Hanchung, near the border of
Sz’chuen; it was much injured by the Tai-pings, and is only slowly
recovering, like all the towns in that valley which were exposed;
none of these rebels crossed the Tsingling Mountains. Yu-lin (‘Elm
Forest’) is an important city on the Great Wall in the north of Shensí,
the station of a garrison which overawes the Mongols. Several marts
carrying on considerable trade are on or near the Wei and Han Rivers.
Gold mines occur in Shensí, and gold is collected in some of the
streams; other metals also are worked. The climate is too cold for
rice and silk; wheat, millet, oats, maize, and cotton supply their
places; rhubarb, musk, wax, red-lead, coal, and nephrite are exported.
The trade of Sí-ngan is chiefly that of bartering the produce of the
eastern provinces (reaching it by the great pass of Tung-kwan) and that
from Tibet, Kansuh, and Ílí. Wild animals still inhabit the northern
parts, and the number of horses, sheep, goats, and cattle raised for
food and service is large compared with eastern China.
~KANSUH PROVINCE.~
The immense province of KANSUH (_i.e._, Voluntary Reverence, made by
uniting the names of Kanchau fu and Suh chau) belonged at one time to
Shensí, and extended no farther west than Kiayü kwan; but since the
division by Kienlung, its limits have been stretched across the desert
to the confines of Songaria on the northwest, and to the borders of
Tibet on the west. It is bounded north and northeast by Gobi and the
Dsassaktu khanate, east by Shensí, south by Sz’chuen, southwest by
Koko-nor and the desert, and northwest by Cobdo and Ílí. Its entire
area cannot be much under 400,000 square miles, the greater part of
which is a barren waste; it extends across twelve degrees of latitude
and twenty-one degrees of longitude, and comprises all the best part of
the ancient kingdom of Tangut, which was destroyed by Genghis.
The topography of this vast region is naturally divided into two
distinct areas by the Kiayü kwan at the end of the Great Wall; one a
fertile, well-watered, populous country, differing _toto cœlo_ from the
sandy or mountainous wildernesses of the other. The eastern portion
is further partitioned into two sections by the ranges of mountains
which cross it nearly from south to north in parallel lines, dividing
the basins of the Wei and Yellow Rivers near the latter. The passage
between them is over the Făn-shui ling, not far from the Tao ho and
by the town of Tihtao, leading thence up to Lanchau. This part of
the province, watered by the Wei, resembles Shansí in fertility and
productions, and its nearness to the elevated ranges of the Bayan-kara
induces comparatively abundant rainfall. The streams in the extreme
south flow into Sz’chuen, but furnish few facilities for navigation.
The affluents of the Yellow River are on the whole less useful for
irrigation and navigation, and the four or five which join it near
Lanchau vary too much in their supply of water to be depended on.
The peculiar feature of Kansuh is the narrow strip projecting like a
wedge into the Tibetan plateau, reaching from Lanchau northwesterly
between the Ala shan and Kílien shan to the end of the Great Wall. This
strip of territory commands the passage between the basin of the Tarim
River and Central Asia and China Proper; its passage nearly controls
trade and power throughout the northern provinces. The Ta-tung River
flows on the south of the Kílien Mountains, but the travel goes near
the Wall, where food and fuel are abundant, a long distance beyond
its end--even to the desert. The roads from Sí-ngan to Lanchau pass
up the King River to Pingliang and across several ranges, or else go
farther up the River Wei to Tsin chau; the distances are between 500
and 600 miles. From Lanchau one road goes along the Yellow River down
to Ninghia, a town inhabited chiefly by Mongols. Another leads 90 miles
west to Síning, whither the tribes around Koko-nor repair for trade.
The most important continues to Suhchau, this being an easier journey,
while its trade furnishes employment to denizens of the region, whose
crops are taken by travellers on passage; this road is about 500 miles
in length. Its great importance from early days is indicated by the
erection of the Great Wall, in order to prevent inroads along its
sides, and by the fortress of Kiayü, which shuts the door upon enemies.
The climate of Kansuh exhibits a remarkable contrast to that of the
eastern provinces. Prejevalsky says it is damp in three of the seasons;
clear, cold winds blowing in winter, and alternating with calm, warm
weather; out of 92 days up to September 30, he registered 72 rainy
days, twelve of them snowy. The highest temperature was 88° F. in July.
Snow and hail also fall in May. North of the Ala shan, which divides
this moist region from the desert, everything is dry and sandy; their
peaks attract the clouds, which sometimes discharge their contents
in torrents, and leave the northern slopes dry; a marsh appears over
against and only a few miles from a sandy waste.[75]
The country east of the Yellow River is fertile, and produces wheat,
oats, barley, millet, and other edible plants. Wild animals are
frequent, whose chase affords both food and peltry; large flocks and
herds are also maintained by Tartars living within the province.
The mountains contain metals and minerals, among which are copper,
almagatholite, jade, gold, and silver. The capital, Lanchau, lies
on the south side of the Yellow River, where it turns northeast; the
valley is narrow, and defended on the west by a pass, through which the
road goes westward. At Síning fu, about a hundred miles east of Tsing
hai, the superintendent of Koko-nor resides; its political importance
has largely increased its trade within the last few years. Ninghia fu,
in the northeast of the province, is the largest town on the borders
of the desert. The destruction of life and all its resources during
the recent Mohammedan rebellion, which was crushed out at Suhchau in
October, 1873, is not likely to be repeated soon, as the rebels were
all destroyed;[76] their Toorkish origin can even now be traced in
their features.[77] No reliable description of the towns belonging to
Kansuh in the districts around Barkul, since the pacification of the
country by the Chinese, has been made.
The province of SZ’CHUEN (‘Four Streams’) was the largest of the old
eighteen before Kansuh was extended across the desert, and is now one
of the richest in its productions. It is bounded north by Kansuh and
Shensí, east by Hupeh and Hunan, south by Kweichau and Yunnan, west
and northwest by Tibet and Koko-nor; its area is 166,800 square miles,
or double most of the other provinces, rather exceeding Sweden in
superficies, as it falls below California, while it is superior to both
in navigable rivers and productions. The emperors at Sí-ngan always
depended upon it as the main prop of their power, and in the third
century A.D. the After Hans ruled at its capital over the west of China.
~TOPOGRAPHY OF SZ’CHUEN PROVINCE.~
Sz’chuen is naturally divided by the four great rivers which run from
north to south into the Yangtsz’, and thus form parallel basins; as
a whole these comprise about half of the entire area, and all of the
valuable portion. The western part beyond the Min River belongs to the
high table lands of Central Asia, and is little else than a series of
mountain ranges, sparsely populated and unfit for cultivation, except
in small spaces and bottom lands. The eastern portion is a triangular
shaped region surrounded with high mountains composed of Silurian and
Devonian formations with intervening deposits, mostly of red clayey
sandstone, imparting a peculiar brick color, which has led Baron von
Richthofen to call it the Red Basin. The ranges of hills average
about 3,500 feet high, but the rivers have cut their channels through
the deposits from 1,500 to 2,500 feet deep, making the travel up and
down their waters neither rapid nor easy. The towns which define this
triangular red basin are Kweichau on the Yangtsz’, from which a line
running south of the river to Pingshan hien, not far from Süchau at
its confluence with the Min, gives the southern border; thence taking
a circuit as far west as Yachau fu on the Tsing-í River, and turning
northwesterly to Lung-ngan fu, the western side is roughly skirted,
while the eastern side returns to Kweichau along the watershed of the
River Han. Within this area, life, industry, wealth, prosperity, are
all found; outside of it, as a rule, the rivers are unnavigable, the
country uncultivable, and the people wild and insubordinate, especially
on the south and west.
The four chief rivers in the province, flowing into the Yangtsz’, are
the Kialing, the Loh, the Min, and the Yalung, the last and westerly
being regarded as the main stream of the Great River, which is called
the Kin-sha kiang, west of the Min. The Kialing rises in Kansuh, and
retains that name along one trunk stream to its mouth, receiving
scores of tributaries from the ridges between its basin and the Han,
until it develops into one of the most useful watercourses in China,
coming perhaps next to the Pearl River in Kwangtung. Chungking, at its
embouchure, is the largest depot for trade west of Íchang, and like
St. Louis, on the Mississippi, will grow in importance as the country
beyond develops. The River Fo Loh (called _Fu-sung_ by Blakiston) is
the smallest of the four, its headwaters being connected with the Min
above Chingtu; the town of Lu chau stands at its mouth; through its
upper part it is called Chung kiang. The Min River has its fountains
near those of the Kialing in Koko-nor, and like that stream it gathers
contributions from the ranges defining and crossing its basin; as it
descends into the plain of Chingtu, its waters divide into a dozen
channels below Hwan hien, and after running more than a hundred miles
reunite above Mei hien, forming a deep and picturesque river down to
Süchau, a thousand miles and more from the source. At its junction,
the Min almost doubles the volume of water in summer, when the snows
melt. The Yalung River is the only large affluent between the Min and
the main trunk; it comes from the Bayan-kara Mountains, between the
headwaters of the Yellow and Yangtsz’ Rivers, and receives no important
tributaries in its long, solitary, and unfructuous course. The Abbé
Huc speaks of crossing its rapid channel near Makian-Dsung just before
reaching Tatsienlu, the frontier town; it takes three names in its
course.
From Chingtu as a centre, many roads radiate to the other large towns
in the province, by which travel and trade find free course, and render
the connections with other provinces safe and easy. The roads are
paved with flagstones wide enough to allow passage for two pack-trains
abreast; stairs are made on the inclines, up and down which mules and
ponies travel without risk, though most of the goods and passengers
are carried by coolies. In order to facilitate travel, footpaths are
opened and paved, leading to every hamlet, and wherever the traffic
will afford it, bridges of cut stone, iron chains or wire, span the
torrent or chasm, according as the exigency requires; towns or hamlets
near these structures take pride in keeping them in repair.
The products of this fertile region are varied and abundant. Rice and
wheat alternate each other in summer and winter, but the amount of
land producing food is barely sufficient for its dense population;
pulse, barley, maize, ground-nuts, sorghum, sweet and common potatoes,
buckwheat and tobacco, are each raised for home consumption. Sugar,
hemp, oils of several kinds, cotton, and fruits complete the list
of plants mostly grown for home use. The exports consist of raw and
woven silk, of which more is sent abroad than from any province; salt,
opium, musk, croton (_tung_) oil, gentian, rhubarb, tea, coal, spelter,
copper, iron, and insect wax, are all grown or made for other regions.
The peace which Sz’chuen enjoyed while other provinces were ravaged
by rebels, has tended to develop all its products, and increase its
abundance. The climate of this region favors the cultivation of the
hillsides, which are composed of disintegrated sandstones, because the
moist and mild winters bring forward the winter crops; snow remains
only a few days, if it fall at all, and wheat is cut before May. The
summer rains and freshets furnish water for the rice fields by filling
the streams on a thousand hills. This climate is a great contrast to
the dry regions further north, and it is subject to less extremes of
temperature and moisture than Yunnan south of it. When this usual
experience is altered by exceptional dry or wet seasons, the people are
left without food, and their wants cannot be supplied by the abundance
of other provinces, owing to the slowness of transit. Brigandage,
rioting, cannibalism, and other violence then add to the misery of the
poor, and to the difficulty of government.
~CHINGTU AND THE MIN VALLEY.~
Chingtu, the capital, lies on the River Min, in the largest plain in
the province, roughly measuring a hundred miles one way, and fifty the
other, conspicuous for its riches and populousness. The inhabitants
are reckoned to number 3,500,000 souls. This city has been celebrated
from the earliest days, but received its present name of the ‘Perfect
Capital’ when Liu Pí made it his residence. Its population approaches
a million, and its walls, shops, yamuns, streets, warehouses, and
suburbs, all indicate its wealth and political importance. Marco Polo
calls it Sindafu, and the province Acbalec Manzi, describing the fine
stone bridge, half a mile long, with a roof resting on marble pillars,
under which “trade and industry is carried on,”[78] which spans the
Kian-suy, _i.e._, the Yangtsz’, as the Min is still often termed.
The remarkable cave houses of the old inhabitants still attract the
traveller’s notice as he journeys up to Chingtu, along its banks.
M. David, who lived at this city several months, declares it to be one
of the most beautiful towns in China, placed in the midst of a fertile
plain watered by many canals, which form a network of great solidity
and usefulness. The number of honorary gateways in and near it attract
the voyager’s eye, and their variety, size, inscriptions, and age
furnish an interesting field of inquiry. Many statues cut in fine stone
are scattered about the city or used to adorn the cemeteries.
The city of Chungking, on the Yangtsz’, at the mouth of the Kialing
River, 725 miles from Hankow, is the next important city in Sz’chuen,
and the centre of a great trade on both rivers. The other marts on the
Great River are also at the mouths of its affluents, and from Kwaichau
to Süchau and Pingshan hien, a distance of 496 miles, there is easy
and safe communication within the province for all kinds of boats;
steam vessels will also here find admirable opportunities for their
employment.
In the western half of Sz’chuen, the people are scattered over
intervales and slopes between the numberless hills and mountains that
make this one of the roughest parts of China; they are governed by
their own local rulers, under Chinese superintendence. They belong to
the Lolos race, and have been inimical and insubordinate to Chinese
rule from earliest times, preventing their own progress and destroying
all desire on the part of their rulers to benefit them. Yachau fu,
Tatsienlu, and Batang are the largest towns west of Chingtu, on the
road to Tibet. On the other side of the province, at Fungtu hien, occur
the fire-wells, where great supplies of petroleum gas are used to
evaporate the salt dug out near by. The many topics of interest in all
parts of Sz’chuen, can only be referred to in a brief sketch, for it is
of itself a kingdom.[79]
~THE PROVINCE OF KWANGTUNG.~
The province of KWANGTUNG (_i.e._, Broad East), from its having been
for a long time the only one of the eighteen to which foreigners
have had access, has almost become synonymous with China, although
but little more is really known of it than of the others--except in
the vicinage of Canton, and along the course of the Peh kiang, from
Nanhiung down to that city. It is bounded north by Kiangsí and Hunan,
northeast by Fuhkien, south by the ocean, and west and northwest by
Kwangsí; with an area about the same as that of the United Kingdom. The
natural facilities for internal navigation and an extensive coasting
trade, are unusually great; for while its long line of coast, nearly a
thousand miles in length, affords many excellent harbors, the rivers
communicate with the regions on the west, north, and east beyond its
borders.
The Nan shan runs along the north, between it and Kiangsí and Hunan,
in a northeasterly and southwesterly direction, presenting the same
succession of short ridges, with bottom lands and clear streams between
them, which are seen in Fuhkien. These ridges take scores of names as
they follow one another from Kwangsí to Fuhkien, but no part is so
well known as the road, twenty-four miles in length, which crosses
the Mei ling (_i.e._ Plum ridge), between Nan-ngan and Nanhiung. The
elevation here is about a thousand feet, none of the peaks in this
part exceeding two thousand, but rising higher to the west. Their
summits are limestone, with granite underlying; granite is also the
prevailing rock along the coast. Lí-mu ridge in Hainan has some peaks
reaching nearly to the snow-line. The bottoms of the rivers are wide,
and their fertility amply repays the husbandman. Fruits, rice, silk,
sugar, tobacco, and vegetables, constitute the greater part of the
productions. Lead, iron, and coal, are abundant.
The Chu kiang, or Pearl River, which flows past Canton, takes this name
only in that short portion of its course; it is however preferable to
employ this as a distinctive name, comprehending the whole stream,
rather than to confuse the reader by naming the numerous branches. It
is formed by the union of three rivers, the West, North, and East, the
two first of which unite at Sanshwui, west of the city, while the East
River joins them at Whampoa. The Sí kiang, or West River, by far the
largest, rises in the eastern part of Yunnan, and receives tributaries
throughout the whole of Kwangsí, along the southern acclivities of the
Nan shan, and after a course of 500 miles, passes out to sea through
numerous mouths, the best known of which is the Bocca Tigris. The Peh
kiang, or North River, joins it after a course of 200 miles, and the
East River is nearly the same length; these two streams discharge the
surplus waters of all the northern parts of Kwangtung. The country
drained by the three cannot be much less than 150,000 square miles, and
most of their channels are navigable for boats to all the large towns
in this and the province of Kwangsí. The Han kiang is the only river of
importance in the eastern end of Kwangtung; the large town of Chauchau
lies near its mouth. There can hardly be less than three hundred
islands scattered along the deeply indented coast line of this province
between Namoh Island and Annam, of which nearly one-third belong to the
department of Kwangchau.
Canton, or Kwangchau fu (_i.e._ Broad City), the provincial capital,
lies on the north bank of the Pearl River, in lat. 23° 7′ 10″ N.,
and long. 113° 14′ 30″ E., nearly parallel with Havana, Muskat, and
Calcutta; its climate is, however, colder than any of those cities. The
name _Canton_ is a corruption of Kwangtung, derived in English from
_Kamtom_, the Portuguese mode of writing it; the citizens themselves
usually call it _Kwangtung săng ching_, _i.e._ the provincial capital
of Kwangtung or simply _săng ching_. Another name is _Yang-ching_, or
the ‘City of Rams,’ and a third the City of Genii, both derived from
ancient legends. It lies at the foot of the White Cloud hills, along
the banks of the river, about seventy miles north of Macao in a direct
line, and ninety northwest of Hongkong; these distances are greater by
the river.
The delta into which the West, North, and East Rivers fall might be
called a gulf, if the islands in it did not occupy so much of the area.
The whole forms one of the most fertile parts of the province, and
one of the most extensive estuaries of any river in the world,--being
a rough triangle about a hundred miles long on each side. The bay of
Lintin--so called from the islet of that name, where opium and other
store ships formerly anchored--is the largest sheet of water, and lies
below the principal embouchure of the river, called _Fu Mun_, _i.e._
Bocca Tigris, or Bogue. Few rivers can be more completely protected
by nature than this; their defences of walls and guns at this spot,
however, have availed the Chinese but little against the skill and
power of their enemies. Ships pass through it up to the anchorage
at Whampoa, about thirty miles, from whence Canton lies twelve miles
nearly due west. The approach to it is indicated by two lofty pagodas
within the walls, and the multitude of boats and junks thronging the
river, amidst which the most pleasing object to the “far-travelled
stranger” is the glimpse he gets through their masts of the foreign
houses on Sha-meen, and the flagstaffs bearing their national ensigns.
~SIZE AND SITUATION OF CANTON.~
The part of Canton inclosed by walls is about six miles in
circumference; having a partition wall running east and west, which
divides it into two unequal parts. The entire circuit, including
the suburbs, is nearly ten miles. The population on land and water,
so far as the best data enable one to judge, cannot be less than a
million of inhabitants. This estimate has been doubted; and certainty
upon the subject is not to be attained, for the census affords no aid
in determining this point, owing to the fact that it is set down by
districts, and Canton lies partly in two districts, Nanhai and Pwanyü,
which extend beyond the walls many miles. Davis says, “the whole
circuit of the city has been compassed within two hours by persons
on foot, and cannot exceed six or seven miles;”--which is true, but
he means only that portion contained within the walls; and there are
at least as many houses without the walls as within them, besides
the boats. The city is constantly increasing, the western suburbs
present many new streets entirely built up within the last ten years.
The houses stretch along the river from opposite the Fa tí or Flower
grounds to French Folly, a distance of four miles, and the banks are
everywhere nearly concealed by the boats and rafts.
The situation of Canton is one which would naturally soon attract
settlers. The earliest notices of the city date back two centuries
before Christ, but traders were doubtless located here prior to that
time. It grew in importance as the country became better settled, and
in A.D. 700, a regular market was opened, and a collector of customs
appointed. When the Manchus overran the country in 1650, this city
resisted their utmost efforts to reduce it for the space of eleven
months, and was finally carried by treachery. Martini states that a
hundred thousand _men_ were killed at its sack; and the whole number
who lost their lives at the final assault and during the siege was
700,000--if the native accounts are trustworthy.[80] Since then, it has
been rebuilt, and has increased in prosperity until it is regarded as
the second city in the empire for numbers, and is probably at present
the first in wealth.
The foundations of the city walls are of sandstone, their upper part
being brick; they are about twenty feet thick, and from twenty-five
to forty feet high, having an esplanade on the inside, and pathways
leading to the rampart, on three sides. The houses are built near the
wall on both sides of it, so that except on the north, one hardly sees
it when walking around the city. There are twelve outer gates, four
in the partition wall, and two water gates, through which boats pass,
into the moat, from east to west. A ditch once encompassed the walls,
now dry on the northern side; on the other three, and within the city,
it and most of the canals are filled by the tide, which as it runs out
does much to cleanse the city from its sewage. The gates are all shut
at night, and a guard is stationed near them to preserve order, but the
idle soldiers themselves cause at times no little disturbance. Among
the names of the gates are _Great-Peace_ gate, _Eternal-Rest_ gate,
_Five-Genii_ gate, _Bamboo-Wicket_ gate, etc.
~SIGHTS OF CANTON CITY.~
The appearance of the city when viewed from the hills on the north is
insipid and uninviting, compared with western cities, being an expanse
of reddish roofs, often concealed by frames for drying or dyeing
clothes, or shaded and relieved by a few large trees, and interspersed
with high, red poles used for flag-staffs. Two pagodas shoot up
within the walls, far above the watch towers on them, and with the
five-storied tower on Kwanyin shan near the northern gate, form the
most conspicuous objects in the prospect.
To a spectator at this elevation, the river is a prominent feature
in the landscape, as it shines out covered with a great diversity of
boats of different colors and sizes, some stationary others moving, and
all resounding with the mingled hum of laborers, sailors, musicians,
hucksters, children, and boatwomen, pursuing their several sports and
occupations. On a low sandstone ledge, in the channel off the city,
once stood the Sea Pearl (_Hai Chu_) Fort, called Dutch Folly by
foreigners, the quietude reigning within which contrasted agreeably
with the liveliness of the waters around. Beyond, on its southern
shore, lie the suburb and island of Honam, and green fields and low
hills are seen still farther in the distance; at the western angle of
this island the Pearl River divides, at the _Peh-ngo tan_ or Macao
Passage, the greatest body of water flowing south, and leaving a
comparatively narrow channel before the city. The hills on the north
rise twelve hundred feet, their acclivities for miles being covered
with graves and tombs, the necropolis of this vast city.
[Illustration: VIEW OF A STREET IN CANTON.]
The streets are too narrow to be seen from such a spot. Among their
names, amounting in all to more than six hundred, are _Dragon_ street,
_Martial Dragon_ street, _Pearl_ street, _Golden Flower_ street, _New
Green Pea_ street, _Physic_ street, _Spectacle_ street, _Old Clothes_
street, etc. They are not as dirty as those of some other cities in
the empire, and on the whole, considering the habits of the people and
surveillance of the government, which prevents almost everything like
public spirit, Canton has been a well governed, cleanly city. In these
respects it is not now as well kept, perhaps, as it was before the war,
nor was it ever comparable to modern cities in the West, nor should it
be likened to them: without a corporation to attend to its condition,
or having power to levy taxes to defray its unavoidable expenses,
it cannot be expected that it should be as wholesome. It is more
surprising, rather, that it is no worse than it is. The houses along
the waterside are built upon piles and those portions of the city are
subject to inundations. On the edge of the stream, the water percolates
the soil, and spoils all the wells.
The temples and public buildings of Canton are numerous. There are
two pagodas near the west gate of the old city, and one hundred and
twenty-four temples, pavilions, halls, and other religious edifices
within the circuit of the city. The _Kwang tah_ or ‘Plain pagoda,’
was erected by the Mohammedans (who still reside near it), about ten
centuries ago, and is rather a minaret than a pagoda, though quite
unlike those structures of Turkey in its style of architecture; it
shoots up in an angular, tapering tower, to the height of one hundred
and sixty feet. The other is an octagonal pagoda, of nine stories, one
hundred and seventy feet high, first erected more than thirteen hundred
years ago. The geomancers say that the whole city is like a junk, these
two pagodas are her masts, and the five-storied tower on the northern
wall, her stern sheets.
~BUDDHIST TEMPLES IN CANTON.~
Among the best known monuments to foreigners visiting this city was
the monastery of _Chong-show sz’_, ‘Temple of Longevity,’ founded
in 1573, and occupying spacious grounds. “In the first pavilion are
three Buddhas; in the second a seven-story, gilt pagoda, in which
are 79 images of Buddha. In the third pavilion is an image of Buddha
reclining, and in a merry mood. A garden in the rear is an attractive
place of resort, and another, on one side of the entrance, has a number
of tanks in which gold fish are reared. In the space in front of the
temple a fair is held every morning for the sale of jade ornaments
and other articles.”[81] This temple was destroyed in November, 1881,
by a mob who were incensed at the alleged misbehaviour of some of the
priests toward the female devotees--an instance of the existence in
China of a lively popular sentiment regarding certain matters. Near
this compound stands the ‘Temple of the Five Hundred Genii,’ containing
500 statues of various sizes in honor of Buddha and his disciples.
The _Hai-chwang sz’_, a Buddhist temple at Honam usually known as the
Honam Joss-house, is one of the largest in Canton. Its grounds cover
about seven acres, surrounded by a wall, and divided into courts,
garden-spots, and a burial-ground, where are deposited the ashes of
priests after cremation. The buildings consist mostly of cloisters or
apartments surrounding a court, within which is a temple, a pavilion,
or a hall; these courts are overshadowed by bastard-banian trees, the
resort of thousands of birds. The outer gateway leads up a gravelled
walk to a high portico guarded by two huge demoniac figures, through
which the visitor enters a small inclosure, separated from the largest
one by another spacious porch, in which are four colossal statues.
This conducts him to the main temple, a low building one hundred feet
square, and surrounded by pillars; it contains three wooden gilded
images, in a sitting posture, called _San Pao Fuh_, or the Past,
Present, and Future Buddha, each of them about twenty-five feet high,
and surrounded by numerous altars and attendant images. Daily prayers
are chanted before them by a large chapter of priests, all of whom,
dressed in yellow canonicals, go through the liturgy. Beyond this
a smaller building contains a marble carving somewhat resembling a
pagoda, under which is preserved a relic of Buddha, said to be one of
his toe-nails. This court has other shrines, and many rooms for the
accommodation of the priests, among which are the printing-office and
library, both of them respectable for size, and containing the blocks
of books issued by them, and sold to devotees.
There are about one hundred and seventy-five priests connected with the
establishment, only a portion of whom can read. Among the buildings are
several small temples dedicated to national deities whom the Buddhists
have adopted into their mythology. One of the houses adjoining holds
the hogs (not _bugs_, as was stated in one work) offered by worshippers
who feed them as long as they live.
Two other shrines belonging to the Buddhists, are both of them, like
the Honam temple, well endowed. One called _Kwanghiao sz’_, or ‘Temple
of Glorious Filial Duty,’ contains two hundred priests, who are
supported from glebe lands, estimated at three thousand five hundred
acres. The number of priests and nuns in Canton is not exactly known,
but probably exceeds two thousand, nine-tenths of whom are Buddhists.
There are only three temples of the Rationalists, their numbers and
influence being far less in this city than those of the Buddhists.
The _Ching-hwang miao_ is an important religious institution in every
Chinese city, the temple, being a sort of palladium, in which both
rulers and people offer their devotions for the welfare of the city.
The superintendent of that in Canton pays $4,000 for his situation,
which sum, with a large profit, is obtained again in a few years, by
the sale of candles, incense, etc., to the worshippers. The temples in
China are generally cheerless and gloomy abodes, well enough fitted,
however, for the residence of inanimate idols and the performance of
unsatisfying ceremonies. The entrance courts are usually occupied by
hucksters, beggars, and idlers, who are occasionally driven off to
give room for the mat-sheds in which theatrical performances got up by
priests are acted. The principal hall, where the idol sits enshrined,
is lighted only in front, and the altar, drums, bells, and other
furniture of the temple, are little calculated to enliven it; the cells
and cloisters are inhabited by men almost as senseless as the idols
they serve, miserable beings, whose droning, useless life is too often
only a cloak for vice, indolence, and crime, which make the class an
opprobrium in the eyes of their countrymen.
Canton is the most influential city in Southern China, and its
reputation for riches and luxury is established throughout the central
and northern provinces, owing to its formerly engrossing the entire
foreign trade up to 1843, for a period of about one hundred years.
At that time the residence of the governor-general was at Shao-king
fu, west of Canton, and his official guard of 5,000 troops is still
quartered there, as the Manchu garrison is deemed enough for the
defence of Canton. He and the Hoppo, or collector of customs, once
had their yamuns in the New City, but a Romish Cathedral has been
built on the site of the former’s office since its capture in 1857.
The governor, treasurer, Manchu commandant, chancellor, and the lower
local magistrates (ten in all), live in the Old City, and with their
official retinues compose a large body of underlings. Some of these
establishments occupy four or five acres.
The _Kung Yuen_ or Examination Hall, lies in the southeastern corner
of the Old City, similar in size and arrangement to these edifices in
other cities. It is 1,330 feet long, 583 wide, and covers over sixteen
acres. The wall surrounding it is entered at the east and west corners
of the south end, where door-keepers are stationed to prevent a crowd
of idlers. The cells are arranged in two sets on each side of the main
passage, which is paved and lined with trees; they are further disposed
in rows of 57 and 63 cells each--all reached through one side door. The
total is 8,653; each cell is 5 feet 9 inches deep, by 3 feet 8 inches
wide; grooves are made in the wall to admit a plank, serving as a table
by day and a bed by night. Once within, the students are confined to
their several stalls, and the outer gate is sealed. A single roof
covers the cells of one range, the ranges being 3 feet 8 inches
apart. The northern portion includes about one-third of the whole,
and is built over with the halls, courts, lodging-rooms, and guard or
eating-houses of the highest examiners, their assistants and copyists,
with thousands of waiters, printers, underlings, and soldiers. At the
biennial examination the total number of students and others in the
Hall reaches nearly twelve thousand men.
There are four prisons in the city, all of them large establishments;
all the capital offenders in the province are brought to Canton for
trial before the provincial officers, and this regulation makes
it necessary to provide spacious accommodations for them. The
execution-ground is a small yard near a pottery manufacture between
the southern gate and the river side, and unless the ground is newly
stained with blood, or cages containing the heads of the criminals are
hung around, has nothing about it to attract the attention. Another
public building, situated near the governor’s palace, is the _Wan-shao
kung_, or ‘Imperial Presence hall,’ where three days before and after
his majesty’s birthday, the officers and citizens assemble to pay
him adoration. The various guilds among the people, and the clubs of
scholars and merchants from other provinces, have, each of them, public
halls which are usually called _consoo houses_ by foreigners, from a
corruption of a native term _kung-sz’_, _i.e._, public hall; but the
usual designation is _kwui kwan_ or ‘Assembly Hall.’ Their total number
must be quite one hundred and fifty, and some of them are not destitute
of elegance.[82]
~THE THIRTEEN HONGS OR FACTORIES.~
The former residences of foreigners in the western suburbs were known
as _Shih-san Hang_, or ‘Thirteen Hongs,’[83] and for nearly two
centuries furnished almost the only exhibition to the Chinese people
of the _yang jin_ or ‘ocean-men.’ Here the fears and the greed of the
rulers, landlords, and traders combined to restrain foreigners of all
nations within an area of about fifteen acres, a large part of this
space being the Garden or _Respondentia_ Walk on the bank of the river.
All these houses and out-houses covered a space scarcely as great as
the base of the Great Pyramid; its total population, including native
and foreign servants, was upwards of a thousand souls. The shops and
markets of the Chinese were separated from them only a few feet, and
this greatly increased the danger from fire, as may be inferred from
the sketch of the street next on the west side. In 1856, the number
of hongs was reckoned to be 16, and the local calendar for that year
contained 317 names, not including women and children. Besides the 16
hongs, four native streets, bordered with shops for the sale of fancy
and silk goods to their foreign customers, ran between the factories.
This latter name was given to them from their being the residences of
_factors_, for no handicraft was carried on here, nor were many goods
stored in them. Fires were not unusual, which demolished portions of
them; in 1822 they were completely consumed; another conflagration in
1843 destroyed two hongs and a street of shops; and in 1842, owing
to a sudden riot, connected with paying the English indemnity, the
British Consulate was set on fire. Finally, as if to inaugurate a new
era, they were all simultaneously burned by the local authorities to
drive out the British forces, in December, 1856, and every trace of
this interesting spot as it existed for so long a time in the annals
of foreign intercourse obliterated. Since the return of trade, a new
and better site has been formed at Shameen, west of the old spot, by
building a solid stone wall and filling in a long, marshy low-tide
bank, formerly occupied by boats, to a height of 8 or 10 feet, on
which there is room for gardens as well as houses. This is surrounded
by water, and thereby secure from fire and mobs to which the old
hongs were exposed. Residences are obtainable anywhere in the city by
foreigners, and the common sight in the olden times of their standing
outside of the _Great Peace Gate_ to see the crowd pass in and out
while they themselves could not enter, is no longer seen. A very
good map of the enciente was made by an American missionary, Daniel
Vrooman, by taking the angles of all the conspicuous buildings therein,
with the highest points in the suburbs; he then taught a native to
pace the streets between them, compass in hand (noting courses and
distances, which he fixed by the principal gates), until a complete
plan was filled out. When the city was opened four years afterwards
this map was found to need no important corrections.
The trades and manufactories at Canton are mainly connected with the
foreign commerce. Many silk fabrics are woven at Fatshan, a large
town situated about ten miles west of the city; fire-crackers, paper,
mat-sails, cotton cloth, and other articles, are also made there for
exportation. The number of persons engaged in weaving cloth in Canton
is about 50,000, including embroiderers; nearly 7,000 barbers and 4,200
shoemakers are stated as the number licensed to shave the crowns and
shoe the soles of their fellow-citizens.
~ENVIRONS OF CANTON.~
The opposite suburb of Honam offers pleasant walks for recreation, and
the citizens are in the habit of going over the river to saunter in
its fields, or in the cool grounds of the great temple; a race-course
and many enjoyable rides on horseback also tempt foreigners into the
country. A couple of miles up the river are the Fa tí or Flower gardens
which once supplied the plants carried out of the country, and are
resorted to by pleasure parties; but to one accustomed to the squares,
gardens, and esplanades of western cities, these grounds appear mean in
the extreme. Foreigners ramble into the country, but rowing upon the
river is their favorite recreation. Like Europeans in all parts of the
East, they retain their own costume and modes of living, and do not
espouse native styles; though if it were not for the shaven crown, it
is not unlikely that many of them would adopt the Chinese dress.
The Cantonese enumerate eight remarkable localities, called _pah king_,
which they consider worthy the attention of the stranger. The first is
the peak of Yuehsiu, just within the walls on the north of the city,
and commanding a fine view of the surrounding country. The _Pi-pa Tah_,
or Lyre pagoda at Whampoa, and the ‘Eastern Sea Fish-pearl,’ a rock in
the Pearl River off the city, on which the fort already referred to as
the ‘Dutch Folly’ was formerly situated, are two more; the pavilion of
the Five Genii, with the five stone rams, and print of a man’s foot in
the rock, “always filled with water,” near by; the rocks of Yu-shan;
the lucky wells of Faukiu in the western suburbs; cascade of Sí-tsiau,
forty miles west of the city; and a famous red building in the city,
complete the eight “lions.”
The foreign shipping all anchored, in the early days, at Whampoa, but
this once important anchorage has been nearly deserted since the river
steamers began their trips to the outer waters. There are two islands
on the south side of the anchorage, called French and Danes’ islands,
on which foreigners are buried, some of the gravestones marking a
century past. The prospect from the summit of the hills hereabouts
is picturesque and charming, giving the spectator a high idea of the
fertility and industry of the land and its people. The town of Whampoa
and its pagoda lie north of the anchorage; between this and Canton is
another, called Lob creek pagoda, both of them uninhabited and decaying.
~MACAO AND HONGKONG.~
Macao (pronounced _Makow_) is a Portuguese settlement on a small
peninsula projecting from the south-eastern end of the large island of
Hiangshan. Its Chinese inhabitants have been governed since 1849 by
the Portuguese authorities somewhat differently from their own people,
but the mixed government has succeeded very well. The circuit of this
settlement is about eight miles; its position is beautiful and very
agreeable; nearly surrounded with water, and open to the sea breezes,
having a good variety of hill and plain even in its little territory,
and a large island on the west called _Tui-mien shan_ or Lapa Island,
on which are pleasant rambles, to be reached by equally pleasant boat
excursions, it offers, moreover, one of the healthiest residences in
south-eastern Asia. The population is not far from 80,000, of whom
more than 7,000 are Portuguese and other foreigners, living under the
control of the Portuguese authorities. The Portuguese have refused
to pay the former annual ground-rent of 600 taels to the Chinese
Government, since the assassination of their governor in 1849, and
now control all the inhabitants living within the Barrier wall, most
of whom have been born therein. The houses occupied by the foreign
population are solidly built of brick or adobie, large, roomy, and
open, and from the rising nature of the ground on which they stand,
present an imposing appearance to the visitor coming in from the sea.
There are a few notable buildings in the settlement; the most
imposing edifice, St. Paul’s church, was burned in 1835. Three forts
on commanding eminences protect the town, and others outside of the
walls defend its waters; the governor takes the oaths of office in
the Monte fort; but the government offices are mostly in the Senate
house, situated in the middle of the town. Macao was, up to 1843, the
only residence for the families of merchants trading at Canton. Of
late the authorities are doing much to revive the prosperity of the
place, by making it a free port. The Typa anchorage lies between the
islands Mackerara and Typa, about three miles off the southern end
of the peninsula; all small vessels go into the Inner harbor on the
west side of the town. Ships anchoring in the Roads are obliged to lie
about three miles off in consequence of shallow water, and large ones
cannot come nearer than six or seven miles.[84] Since the ascendancy
of Hongkong, this once celebrated port has fallen away in trade and
importance, and for many years had an infamous reputation for the
protection its rulers afforded the coolie trade.
Eastward from Macao, about forty miles, lies the English colony of
Hongkong, an island in lat. 22° 16-1/2′ N., and long. 114° 8-1/2′ E.,
on the eastern side of the estuary of the Pearl River. The island
of Hongkong, or Hiangkiang (_i.e._, the Fragrant Streams), is nine
miles long, eight broad, and twenty-six in circumference, presenting
an exceedingly uneven, barren surface, consisting for the most part
of ranges of hills, with narrow intervales, and a little level beach
land. Victoria Peak is 1,825 feet. Probably not one-twentieth of the
surface is available for agricultural purposes. The island and harbor
were first ceded to the Crown of England by the treaty made between
Captain Elliot and Kíshen, in January, 1841, and again by the treaty
of Nanking, in August, 1842; lastly, by the Convention of Peking,
October 24, 1860, the opposite peninsula of Kowlung was added, in
order to furnish space for quartering troops and storehouse room for
naval and military supplies. The town of Victoria lies on the north
side, and extends more than three miles along the shore. The secure
and convenient harbor has attracted the settlement here, though the
uneven nature of the ground compels the inhabitants to stretch their
warehouses and dwellings along the beach.
The architecture of most of the buildings erected in Victoria is
superior to anything heretofore seen in China. Its population is now
estimated at 130,000, of whom five-sixths are Chinese tradesmen,
craftsmen, laborers, and boatmen, few of whom have their families. The
government of the colony is vested in a governor, chief-justice, and a
legislative council of five, assisted by various subordinate officers
and secretaries, the whole forming a cumbrous and expensive machinery,
compared with the needs and resources of the colony. The Bishop of
Victoria has an advisory control over the missions of the establishment
in the southern provinces of China, and supervises the schools in the
colony, where many youths are trained in English and Chinese literature.
The supplies of the island are chiefly brought from the mainland
where an increasing population of Chinese, under the control of the
magistrate of Kowlung, find ample demand for all the provisions they
can furnish.
Three newspapers are published in English, and two in Chinese. The
Seaman’s and Military hospitals, the chapels and schools of the London
and Church Missionary Society, St. John’s Cathedral, Roman Catholic
establishment, the government house, the magistracy, jail, the ordnance
and engineer departments, Exchange, and the Club house, are among the
principal edifices. The amount of money expended in buildings in this
colony is enormous, and most of them are substantial stone or brick
houses. The view of the city as seen from the harbor is only excelled
in beauty by the wider panorama spread out before the spectator on
Victoria Peak. During the forty-odd years of its occupation, this
colony has slowly advanced in commercial importance, and become an
entrepôt for foreign goods designed for native markets in Southern
China. Every facility has been given to the Chinese who resort to its
shops to carry away their purchases, by making the port free of every
impost, and preventing the imperial revenue cutters from interfering
with their junks while in sight of the island. The arrangements of this
contested point so that the Chinese revenue shall not suffer have not
satisfied either party, and as it is in the similar case of Gibraltar,
is not likely to soon be settled. Smugglers must run their own risks
with the imperial officers. The most valuable article leaving Hongkong
is opium, but the greatest portion of its exports pay the duties on
entering China at the five open ports in the province of Kwangtung. As
the focus of postal lines of passenger steamers, and the port where
mercantile vessels come to learn markets, Hongkong exerts a greater
influence on the southeast of Asia than her trade and size indicate.
The island of Shangchuen or Sançian, where Xavier died, lies southwest
of Macao about thirty miles, and is sometimes visited by devout persons
from that place to reverence his tomb, which they keep in repair.
~TOWNS OF KWANGTUNG PROVINCE.~
The city of Shauchau in the northern part of the province lies at the
fork of the river, which compels a change of boats for passengers and
goods; it is one of the largest cities after Canton, and a pontoon
bridge furnishes the needed facilities for stopping and taxing the
boats and goods passing through. Shauking, west of Canton, is another
important town, which held out a long time against the Manchus;[85] it
was formerly the seat of the provincial authorities, till they removed
to Canton in 1630 to keep the foreigners under control. It stretches
along six miles of the river bank, a well-built city for China, in
a beautiful position. Some of its districts furnish green teas and
matting for the Canton market, and this trade has opened the way for
a large emigration to foreign countries. Among other towns of note
is Nanhiung, situated at the head of navigation on the North River,
where goods cross the Mei ling. Before the coast was opened to trade,
fifty thousand porters obtained a livelihood by transporting packages,
passengers, and merchandise to and from this town and Nan-ngan in
Kiangsí. It is a thriving place, and the restless habits of these
industrious carriers give its population somewhat of a turbulent
character. Many of them are women, who usually pair off by themselves
and carry as heavy burdens as the men.
Not far from Yangshan hien is a fine cavern, the _Niu Yen_ or ‘Ox
Cave,’ on a hillside near the North River. Its entrance is like a grand
hall, with pillars 70 feet high and 8 or 10 feet thick. The finest part
is exposed to the sun, but many pretty rooms and niches are revealed
by torches; echoes resound through their recesses. The stalactites and
stalagmites present a vast variety of shapes--some like immense folds
of drapery, between which are lamps, thrones and windows of all shapes
and sizes, while others hang from the roof in fanciful forms.
The scenery along the river, between Nanhiung and Shauchau, is
described as wild, rugged, and barren in the extreme; the summits
of the mountains seem to touch each other across the river, and
massive fragments fallen from their sides, in and along the river,
indicate that the passage is not altogether free from danger. In this
mountainous region coal is procured by opening horizontal shafts to
the mines. Ellis[86] says, it was brought some distance to the place
where he saw it, to be used in the manufacture of green vitriol. Many
pagodas are passed in the stretch of 330 miles between Nanhiung and
Canton, calculated to attract notice, and assure the native boatmen
which swarm on its waters, of the protection of the two elements he
has to deal with--wind and water. One of the most conspicuous objects
in this part of the river are five rocks, which rise abruptly from
the banks, and are fancifully called _Wu-ma-tao_, or ‘Five-horses’
heads.’ The formation of this part of the province consists of compact,
dark-colored limestone, overlying sandstone and breccia. Nearly
halfway between Shauchau and Canton is a celebrated mountain and cavern
temple, dedicated to Kwanyin, the goddess of Mercy, and most charmingly
situated amid waterfalls, groves, and fine scenery, near a hill about
1,850 feet high. The cliff has a sheer descent of five hundred feet;
the temple is in a fissure a hundred feet above the water, and consists
of two stories; the steps leading up to them, the rooms, walls, and
cells, are all cut out of the rock. Inscriptions and scrolls hide the
naked walls, and a few inane priests inhabit this somewhat gloomy
abode. Mr. Barrow draws a proper comparison between these men and the
inmates of the Cork Convent in Portugal, or the Franciscan Convent in
Madeira, who had likewise “chained themselves to a rock, to be gnawed
by the vultures of superstition and fanaticism,” but these last have
less excuse.
~THE ISLAND OF HAINAN.~
The island of Hainan constitutes a single department, Kiungchau, but
its prefect has no power over the central and mountainous parts. In
early European travels it is named Aynao, Kainan and Aniam. It is
about one hundred and fifty miles long and one hundred broad, being in
extent nearly twice the size of Sicily. It is separated from the main
by Luichau Strait, sixteen miles wide, whose shoals and reefs render
its passage uncertain. The interior of the island is mountainous, and
well wooded, and the inhabitants give a partial submission to the
Chinese; they are identical in race with the mountaineers in Kweichau.
This ridge is called Lí-mu ling; a remarkable peak in the centre of
the southern half, _Wu-chi shan_ or ‘Five-finger Mountain,’ probably
rises 10,000 feet. The Chinese inhabitants are mostly descendants of
emigrants from Fuhkien, and are either trading, agricultural, marine,
or piratical in their vocation, as they can make most money. The lands
along the coast are fertile, producing areca-nuts, cocoa-nuts, and
other tropical fruits, which are not found on the main. Kiungchau fu
lies at the mouth of the Lí-mu River, opposite Luichau. The port is
Hoihau, nineteen miles distant, but the entrance is too shallow for
most vessels, and the trade consequently seeks a better market at
Pakhoi, a town which has recently risen to importance as a treaty port
on the mainland. All the thirteen district towns are situated on the
coast, and within their circuit, on Chinese maps, a line is drawn,
inclosing the centre of the island, within which the _Lí min_, or Lí
people live, _some_ of whom are acknowledged to be independent. They
are therefore known as wild and civilized Lí, and are usually in a
state of chronic irritation from the harsh treatment of the rulers. It
is probable that they originally came from the Malayan Peninsula (as
their features, dress, and habits indicate their affinity with those
tribes), and have gradually withdrawn themselves into their recesses
to avoid oppression. In 1292, the Emperor Kublai gave twenty thousand
of them lands free for a time in the eastern parts, but the Ming
sovereigns found them all intractable and belligerent. The population
of the island is about a million. Its productions are rice, sweet
potatoes, sugar, tobacco, fruits, timber, and insect wax.[87]
~THE PROVINCE OF KWANGSÍ.~
The province of KWANGSÍ (_i.e._, Broad West) extends westward of
Kwangtung to the borders of Annam, occupying the region on the
southwest of the Nan ling, and has been seldom visited by foreigners,
whose journeys have been up the Kwai kiang or ‘Cassia River’ into
Hunan. The banks of the rivers sometimes spread out into plains,
more in the eastern parts than elsewhere, on which an abundance of
rice is grown. There are mines of gold, silver, and other metals, in
this province, most of which are worked under the superintendence of
government, but no data are accessible from which to ascertain the
produce. Among the commercial productions of Kwangsí, are cassia,
cassia-oil, ink-stones, and cabinet-woods; its natural resources
supply the principal articles of trade, for there are no manufactures
of importance. Many partially subdued tribes are found within the
limits of this province, who are ruled by their own hereditary
governors, under the supervision of the Chinese authorities; there
are twenty-four _chau_ districts occupied by these people, the names
of whose head-men are given in the Red Book, and their position
marked in the statistical maps of the empire, but no information is
furnished in either, concerning the numbers, language, or occupations,
of the inhabitants. Kwangsí is well watered by the West River and its
branches, which enable traders to convey timber and surplus produce to
Canton, and receive from thence salt and other articles. The mountains
on the northwest are occasionally covered with snow; many of the
western districts furnish little besides wood for buildings and boats.
The basin of the West River is subdivided by ranges of hills into three
large valleys, through which flow many tributaries of the leading
streams, and as they each usually drop the old name on receiving a new
affluent, it is a confusing study to follow them all. On the south
the river Yuh rises near Yunnan, and deflects south to Nan-ning near
the borders of Kwangtung, joining the central trunk at Sinchau, after
a course of five hundred miles. On the north the river Lung and the
Hung-shui receive the surplus drainage of the northern districts and
of Kweichau, a region where the Miaotsz’ have long kept watch and ward
over their hilly abodes. The waters are then poured into the central
trench a few miles west of Sinchau. This main artery of the province
rises in Yunnan and would connect it by batteaux with Canton City
if the channel were improved; it is called Sz’ ho, and ranks as the
largest tributary of the Pearl River.
The capital, Kweilin (_i.e._, Cassia Forest), lies on the Cassia River,
a branch of the West River, in the northeast part of the province; it
is a poorly built city, surrounded by canals and branches of the river,
destitute of any edifices worthy of notice, and having no great amount
of trade. During the Tai-ping rebellion, this and the next town were
nearly destroyed between the insurgents and imperialists.
Wuchau fu, on the same river, at its junction with the Lung kiang,
or ‘Dragon River,’ where they unite and form the West River, is the
largest trading town in the province. The independent _chau_ districts
are scattered over the southwest near the frontiers of Annam, and if
anything can be inferred from their position, it may be concluded
that they were settled by Laos tribes, who had been induced, by the
comparative security of life and property within the frontiers, to
acknowledge the Chinese sway.[88]
~KWEICHAU PROVINCE AND THE MIAOTSZ’.~
The province of KWEICHAU (_i.e._, Noble Region) is on the whole the
poorest of the eighteen in the character of its inhabitants, amount of
its products, and development of its resources. A range of mountains
passes from the northeast side in a south-westerly course to Yunnan,
forming the watershed between the valleys of the Yangtsz’ and Siang
Rivers, a rough but fertile region. The western slopes are peopled
by Chinese tillers of the soil, a rude and ignorant race, and rather
turbulent; the eastern districts are largely in the hands of the
Miaotsz’, who are considered by the officials and their troops to
be lawful objects of oppression and destruction. The climate of the
province is regarded as malarious, owing to the quantity of stagnant
water and the impurity of that drawn from wells. Its productions
consist of rice, wheat, musk, insect wax, tobacco, timber, and cassia,
with lead, copper, silver, quicksilver, and iron. The quicksilver mines
are in Kai chau, north of the provincial capital, and apparently exceed
in extent and richness all other known deposits of this metal; they
have been worked for centuries. Cinnabar occurs at various places,
about lat. 27°, in a belt extending quite across the province, and
terminating near the borders of Yunnan. Two kinds of silk obtained
from the worms which feed on the mulberry and oak, furnish material
for clothing so cheaply that cotton is imported from other provinces.
Horses and other domestic animals are reared in larger quantities than
in the eastern provinces.
The largest river is the Wu, which drains the central and northern
parts of the province, and empties into the Yangtsz’, through the river
Kien near Chungking. Other tributaries of that river and West River,
also have their sources in this province, and by means of batteaux and
rafts are all more or less available for traffic. The natural outlet
for the products of Kweichau is the river Yuen in Hunan, whose various
branches flow into it from the eastern prefectures, but their unsettled
condition prevents regular or successful intercourse.
The capital, Kweiyang, is situated among the mountains; it is the
smallest provincial capital of the eighteen, its walls not being more
than two miles in circumference. The other chief towns or departments
are of inferior note. There are many military stations in the southern
prefectures at the foot of the mountains, intended to restrain the
unsubdued tribes of Miaotsz’ who inhabit them.
[Illustration: Miaotsz’ Types.]
This name Miaotsz’ is used among the Chinese as a general term for all
the dwellers upon these mountains, but is not applied to every clan
by the people themselves. They consist of eighty-two tribes in all
(found scattered over the mountains in Kwangtung, Hunan, and Kwangsí,
as well as in Kweichau), speaking several dialects, and differing
among themselves in their customs, government, and dress. The Chinese
have often described and pictured these people, but the notices are
confined to a list of their divisions, and an account of their most
striking peculiarities. Their language differs entirely from the
Chinese, but too little is known of it to ascertain its analogies
to other tongues; its affinities are most likely with the Laos, and
those tribes between Burmah, Siam, and China. One clan, inhabiting
Lípo hien in the extreme south, is called _Yau-jin_, and although they
occasionally come down to Canton to trade, the citizens of that place
firmly believe them to be furnished with short tails like monkeys.
They carry arms, are inclined to live at peace with the lowlanders,
but resist every attempt to penetrate into their fastnesses. The
Yau-jin first settled in Kwangsí, and thence passed over into Lien
chau about the twelfth century, where they have since maintained their
footing. Both sexes wear their hair braided in a tuft on the top of the
head--but never shaven and tressed as the Chinese--and dress in loose
garments of cotton and linen; earrings are in universal use among them.
They live at strife among themselves, which becomes a source of safety
to the Chinese, who are willing enough to harass and oppress, but are
ill able to resist, these hardy mountaineers. In 1832, they broke out
in active hostilities, and destroyed numerous parties of troops sent to
subdue them, but were finally induced to return to their retreats by
offers of pardon and largesses granted to those who submitted.
A Chinese traveller among the Miaotsz’ says that some of them live in
huts constructed upon the branches of trees, others in mud hovels;
and one tribe in cliff houses dug out of the hillsides, sometimes
six hundred feet up. Their agriculture is rude, and their garments
are obtained by barter from the lowlanders in exchange for metals
and grain, or woven by themselves. The religious observances of
these tribes are carefully noted, and whatever is connected with
marriages and funerals. In one tribe, it is the custom for the father
of a new-born child, as soon as its mother has become strong enough
to leave her couch, to get into bed himself and there receive the
congratulations of his acquaintances, as he exhibits his offspring--a
custom which has been found among the Tibetan tribes and elsewhere.
Another class has the counterpart of the may-pole and its jocund
dance, which, like its corresponding game, is availed of by young men
to select their mates.[89]
~THE PROVINCE OF YUNNAN.~
The province of YUNNAN (_i.e._, Cloudy South--south of the _Yun ling_,
or ‘Cloudy Mountains’[90]) is in the southwest of the empire, bounded
north by Sz’chuen, east by Kweichau and Kwangsí, south by Annam, Laos,
and Siam, and west by Burmah. Its distance from the central authority
of the Empire since its partial conquest under the Han dynasty has
always made it a weak point, and the uneducated, mixed character of
the inhabitants has given an advantage to enterprising leaders to
resist Chinese rule. It was recovered from the aborigines by the Tang
Emperors, who called it Jung chau, or the region of the Jung tribes,
from which the name _Karajang_, _i.e._, Black Jung, which Marco Polo
calls it, is derived; Kublai Khan himself led an army in 1253 thither
before he conquered China, and sent the Venetians on a mission there
about the year 1278, after his establishment at Peking. A son of the
Emperor was his Viceroy over this outlying province at that time. The
recent travels of Margary, Baber, and Anderson, of the British service,
with Mouhot and Garnier of the French, have done much to render this
secluded province better known. The central portion is occupied by an
extensive plateau, ramifying in various directions and intersected
with valley-plains at altitudes of 5,000 to 6,000 feet, in which lie
several large lakes and the seven principal cities in the province.
These plains are overtopped by the ridges separating them, which, seen
from the lower levels, appear, as in Shansí, like horizontal, connected
summit-lines. All are built up of red sandstone, like the basin in
Sz’chuen, through which rivers, small and large, have furrowed their
beds hundreds and thousands of feet, rendering communication almost
impossible in certain directions as soon as one leaves the plateau. In
the east and northwest, the defiles are less troublesome, and in this
latter portion of the province are some peaks rising far above the snow
line. These are called on Col. Yule’s map the _Goolan Sigon_ range. The
climate is cooler than in Sz’chuen, owing to this elevation, and not
very healthy; snow lies for weeks at Yunnan fu, and the summers are
charming.
The Yangtsz’ enters the province on the northwest for a short distance.
The greatest river in it is the Lantsan, which rises in Tibet, and
runs for a long distance parallel with and between the Yangtsz’ and
Nu Rivers till the three break through the mountains not far from
each other, and take different courses,--the largest turning to the
eastward across China, the Lantsan southeast through Yunnan to the gulf
of Siam, under the name of the Meikon or river of Cambodia, and the
third, or Salween, westerly through Burmah. The Meikon receives many
large tributaries in its course across the province, and its entire
length is not less than 1,500 miles. The Lungchuen, a large affluent
of the Irrawadi, runs a little west of the Salween. The Meinam rises
in Yunnan, and flows south into Siam under the name of the Nanting,
and after a course of nearly eight hundred miles, empties into the sea
below Bangkok. East of the Lantsan are several important streams, of
which three that unite in Annam to form the Sangkoi, are the largest.
The general course of these rivers is southeasterly, and their upper
waters are separated by mountain ridges, between which the valleys are
often reduced to very narrow limits. There are two lakes in the eastern
part of the province, south of the capital, called Sien and Tien; the
latter is about seventy miles long by twenty wide, and the Sien hu
(_i.e._, ‘Fairy Lake’) about two-thirds as large. Another sheet of
water in the northwest, near Talí fu, communicating with the Yangtsz’
kiang, is called Urh hai or Uhr sea, which is more than a hundred miles
long, and about twenty in width.
~INHABITANTS AND PRODUCTIONS OF YUNNAN.~
The capital, Yunnan, lies upon the north shore of Lake Tien, and is
a town of note, having, moreover, considerable political importance
from its trade with other parts of the country through the Yangtsz’,
and with Burmah. The city was seriously injured in 1834, by an
earthquake, which is said to have lasted three entire days, forcing
the inhabitants into tents or the open fields, and overthrowing every
important building.[91] The traffic between this province and Burmah
centres at the fortified post of Tsantah, in the district of Tăngyueh,
both of them situated on a branch of the Irrawadi. The principal part
of the commodities is transported upon animals from these dépôts to
Bhamo, upon the Irrawadi, the largest market-town in this part of
Chin-India. The Chinese participate largely in this trade, which
consists of raw and manufactured silk to the amount of $400,000
annually, tea, copper, carpets, orpiment, quicksilver, vermilion,
drugs, fruits, and other things, carried from their country in exchange
for raw cotton to the amount of $1,140,000 annually, ivory, wax,
rhinoceros and deer’s horns, precious stones, birds’ nests, peacocks’
feathers, and foreign articles. The entire traffic is probably
$2,500,000 annually, and for a few years past has been regularly
increasing.
There is considerable intercourse and trade on the southern frontiers
with the Lolos, or Laos and Annamese,[92] partly by means of the
head-waters of the Meinam and Meikon--which are supposed to communicate
with each other by a natural canal--and partly by caravans over the
mountains. Yunnan fu was the capital of a Chinese prince about the
time of the decadence of the Ming dynasty, who had rendered himself
independent in this part of their empire by the overthrow of the rebel
Lí, but having linked his fortunes with an imbecile scion of that
house, he displeased his officers, and his territories gradually fell
under the sway of the conquering Manchus. The southern and western
districts of the province are inhabited by half-subdued tribes who are
governed by their own rulers, under the nominal sway of the Chinese,
and pass and repass across the frontiers in pursuit of trade or
occupation.
The extension of British trade from Rangoon toward this part of
China, has brought those hill tribes more into notice, and proved in
their present low and barbarous condition the accuracy of the ancient
description by Marco Polo and the Roman Catholic missionaries. Colonel
Yule aptly terms this wide region an “Ethnological Garden of tribes
of various race and in every stage of uncivilization.” The unifying
influence of the Chinese written language and literary institutions
has been neutralized among these races by their tribal dissensions and
inaptitude for study of any kind. Anderson gives short vocabularies
of the Kakhyen, Shan, Hotha Shan, Le-sau and Poloung languages, all
indicating radical differences of origin, the existence of which would
keep them from mingling with each other as well as from the Chinese.[93]
The mineral wealth of Yunnan is greater and more varied than that of
any other province, certain of the mines having been worked since
the Sung dynasty. Coal occurs in many places on the borders of the
central plateau; some of it is anthracite of remarkable solidity and
uniformity. Salt occurs in hills, not in wells as in Sz’chuen; the
brine is sometimes obtained by driving tunnels into the hillsides.
Metalliferous ores reach from this province into the three neighboring
ones. Copper is the most abundant, and the mines in Ningyuen fu, in
the southwestern part of Sz’chuen, have supplied both copper and zinc
ores during the troubles in Yunnan. The copper at Hwuilí-chau in that
prefecture is worked by companies which pay a royalty of two taels a
pecul to the government, and furnish the metal to the mine owners for
$8 per pecul. The _pehtung_ or argentan ores are mixed with copper,
tin, or lead, by the manufacturers according to the uses the alloys
are put to. Silver exists in several places in the north, and the
exploitation of the mines was successful until within 30 years past;
now they cannot be safely or profitably worked, in consequence of
political disturbances. Gold is obtained in the sand of some rivers but
not to a large extent; lead, iron, tin, and zinc occur in such plenty
that they can be exported, but no data are accessible as to the entire
product or export.[94]
FOOTNOTES:
[72] _Annales de la Foi_, 1845, Tome XVII., pp. 287, 290. See also
Huc’s _Travels in the Chinese Empire_, Harper’s Ed., 1855, Vol. II.,
pp. 142-144. Pumpelly, pp. 224-226; Blakiston’s _Yangtsze_, p. 65;
_Treaty Ports of China_, 1867, Art. _Hankow_.
[73] Usually known as the Ta-pa ling; but Baron von Richthofen found
that the natives of that region “call those mountains the Kiu-tiao
shan, that is the ‘nine mountain ridges,’ designating therewith the
fact that the range is made up of a number of parallel ridges. This
name should be retained in preference to the other.” _Letter on the
Provinces of Chihlí, Shansí, Shensí_, etc. Shanghai, 1872. See also his
_China_, Band II. S. 563-576; Alex. Wylie, _Notes of a Journey from
Chingtoo to Hankow_, _Journ. Roy. Geog. Soc._ Vol. XIV., p. 168.
[74] See Kreitner, _Im fernen Osten_, p. 504. Wien, 1881.
[75] Prejevalsky’s _Travels in Mongolia_, Vol. II., pp. 256-266.
[76] _Dip. Cor._, 1874, p. 251.
[77] That this insurrection was not unprecedented we learn from a
notice of a similar Mohammedan revolt here in 1784. _Nouvelles Lettres
Edifiantes des Missions de la Chine_, Tome II., p. 23.
[78] Yule’s _Marco Polo_, Vol. II., p. 23.
[79] _Chinese Repository_, Vol. XIX., pp. 317 and 394. _Annales de
la Foi_, Tome III., pp. 369-381, and Tome IV., pp. 409-415. _Letter_
by Baron Richthofen _on the Provinces of Chihlí, Shansí, Shensí,
Sz’chuen_, etc. Shanghai, 1872. Kreitner, _Im fernen Osten_, pp.
780-829.
[80] French bishop Palafox gives still another account of the capture
of Canton; his statement contains, however, one or two glaring errors.
Vid. _Histoire de la Conquête de la Chine par les Tartares_, pp. 150 ff.
[81] Dr. Kerr, _Canton Guide_.
[82] _Chinese Repository_, Vol. II., pp. 145, 191, &c.
[83] This word is derived from the Chinese _hong_ or _hang_, meaning
a row or series, and is applied to warehouses because these consist
of a succession of rooms. The foreign factories were built in this
manner, and therefore the Chinese called each block a hong; the old
security-merchants were dubbed _hong-merchants_, because they lived in
such establishments.
[84] _Chinese Repository_, passim. _An Historical Sketch of the
Portuguese Settlements in China._ By Sir A. Ljungstedt. Boston, 1836.
[85] Palafox, _Conquête de la Chine_, p. 172.
[86] _Embassy_ (of Lord Amherst) _to China_, Moxon’s ed., 1840, p. 98.
[87] E. C. Taintor, _Geographical Sketch of the Island of Haïnan_, with
map. Canton, 1868. _Journal N. C. Br. R. A. S._, No. VII., Arts. I.,
II., and III. _China Review_, Vols. I., p. 124, and II., p. 332. N.
B. Dennys, _Report on the newly-opened ports of Kiungchow (Hoihau) in
Hainan, and Haiphong in Tonquin_. Hongkong, 1878.
[88] _Chinese Repository_, Vol. XIV., pp. 171 ff.
[89] _Chinese Repository_, Vol. I., p. 29; Vol. XIV., pp. 105-117; G.
T. Lay, _Chinese as They Are_, p. 316; _Journal of N. C. Branch of
Royal Asiatic Society_, No. III., 1859, and No. VI., 1869. _Chinese
Recorder_, Vols. II., p. 265, and III., pp. 33, 74, 96, 134 and 147.
_Peking Gazette_ for 1872. _China Review_, Vol. V., p. 92.
[90] Known as _Widiharit_ in Pali records. _Chinese Recorder_, Vol.
III., pp. 33, 74, sqq.; see also pp. 62, 93, 126, for the record of a
visit.
[91] _Annales de la Foi_, Tome VIII., p. 87.
[92] Two thousand Chinese families live in Amerapura.
[93] Yule’s _Marco Polo_, Vol. II. Anderson, _Mandalay to Momien_.
[94] _Proced. Roy. Geog. Soc._, Vols. XIII., p. 392, XIV., p. 335,
XV., pp. 163 and 343. Col. Yule, _Trade Routes to Western China_--_The
Geographical Magazine_, April, 1875. Richthofen, _Recent Attempts to
find a direct Trade-Road to Southwestern China_--_Shanghai Budget_,
March 26, 1874. _Journey of A. R. Margary from Shanghae to Bhamo._
London, 1875. Col. H. Browne in _Blue Books_, Nos. 1, 2, 3, and 4
(1876-77).
CHAPTER IV.
GEOGRAPHICAL DESCRIPTION OF MANCHURIA, MONGOLIA, ÍLÍ, AND TIBET.
The portions of the Chinese Empire beyond the limits of the Eighteen
Provinces, though of far greater extent than China Proper, are
comparatively of minor importance. Their vast regions are peopled by
different races, whose languages are mutually unintelligible, and whose
tribes are held together under the Chinese sway rather by interest and
reciprocal hostilities or dislike, than by force. European geographers
have vaguely termed all that space lying north of Tibet to Siberia, and
east of the Tsung ling to the Pacific, _Chinese Tartary_; while the
countries west of the Tsung ling or Belur tag, to the Aral Sea, have
been collectively called _Independent Tartary_. Both these names have
already become nearly obsolete on good maps of those regions; the more
accurate knowledge brought home by recent travellers having ascertained
that their inhabitants are neither all Tartars (or Mongols) nor Turks,
and further that the native names and divisions are preferable to a
single comprehensive one. Such names as Manchuria, Mongolia, Songaria,
and Turkestan, derived from the leading tribes dwelling in those
countries, are more definite, though these are not permanent, owing to
the migratory, changeable habits of the people. From their ignorance
of scientific geography, the Chinese have no general designations for
extensive countries, long chains of mountains, or devious rivers, but
apply many names where, if they were better informed, they would be
content with one.
The following table presents a general view of these countries,
giving their leading divisions and forms of government. They cannot
be classed, however, in the same manner as the provinces, nor are the
divisions and capitals here given to be regarded as definitely settled.
Their united area is 3,951,130 square miles, or a little more than
all Europe; their separate areas cannot be precisely given. Manchuria
contains about 400,000 square miles; Mongolia between 1,300,000 and
1,500,000 square miles; Ílí about 1,070,000 square miles; and Tibet
from 500,000 to 700,000 square miles.
GENERAL VIEW OF THE COLONIES AND THEIR SUBDIVISIONS.
----------+-----------------+--------------------------------------+
COLONIES. | PROVINCES. | DIVISIONS. |
----------+-----------------+--------------------------------------+
|{Shingking |{Two fu departments and 15 districts;}|
|{ |{ and 13 garrisons }|
|{ | |
MANCHURIA.|{ | |
|{Kirin |{Three ting departments, or 8 }|
|{ |{ garrisoned posts }|
|{ | |
|{Tsitsihar | Six commanderies |
| | |
|{Inner Mongolia |{Six corps, subdivided into 24 }|
|{ |{ tribes and 49 standards }|
|{ | |
|{ | |
|{Outer Mongolia |{Four khanates, viz.: Tuchétu, }|
MONGOLIA. |{ |{ Sainnoin, Tsetsen, and Dsassaktu }|
|{ | |
|{Koko-nor |{One residency, having 29 standards }|
|{ | |
|{ |{Cobdo, having 11 tribes and 31 }|
|{Uliasutai |{ standards. Ulianghai tribes }|
| |{ under 21 tso-ling }|
| | |
| | |
| | |
|{Northern Circuit|{Ílí |
|{ or Songaria |{Kur-kara usu |
|{ |{Tarbagatai |
|{ | |
ÍLÍ |{ | |
|{ |{Ten cities, viz.: Harashar, Kuché, }|
|{Southern Circuit|{ Sairim, Bai, Ushi, Aksu, Khoten, }|
|{ or Eastern |{ Kashgar, Yangi Hissar, }|
|{ Turkestan |{ and Yarkand }|
| | |
| |{Wei and Kham, divided into }|
|{Anterior Tibet |{ eight cantons and 39 feudal }|
|{ |{ townships }|
TIBET |{ | |
|{Ulterior Tibet |{Tsang and Nari, divided into six }|
| |{ cantons }|
----------+-----------------+--------------------------------------+
----------+-----------------+-------------------+----------------------
COLONIES. | PROVINCES. | CAPITALS. | FORMS OF GOVERNMENT.
----------+-----------------+-------------------+----------------------
|{Shingking |Mukden or Fungtien |{Manchuria is ruled by
|{ | |{ military boards, and
|{ | |{ generals at the
MANCHURIA.|{ | |{ garrisons.
|{Kirin |Kirin ula hotun |{Under three generals
|{ | |{ at the prefectures.
|{ | |
|{Tsitsihar |Tsitsihar hotun | Under six generals.
| | |
|{Inner Mongolia |No common capital |{Each tribe has its own
|{ | |{ chieftain or general,
|{ | |{ and is governed by the
|{ | |{ Lí-fan Yuen in Peking.
|{Outer Mongolia |Urga or Kurun | Four khans under the
MONGOLIA. |{ | | Kutuktu.
|{ | |
|{Koko-nor |Síning in Kansuh | Under a Manchu residency.
|{ | |
|{ | |
|{Uliasutai |Uliasutai | By an amban over the
| | | chieftains.
| | |
| | |{Ruled by a military
| | |{ governor, 2 councillors,
|{Northern Circuit|Kuldja |{ and 34 residents in the
|{ or Songaria |Kur-kara usu |{ cities.
|{ |Sui-tsing ching |{Under residents subordinate
|{ | |{ to the governor.
ÍLÍ |{ | |
|{Southern Circuit|Yarkand |{Each city under a resident
|{ or Eastern | |{ amenable to the governor
|{ Turkestan | |{ at Ílí, and native begs.
| | |
| | |
|{Anterior Tibet |H’lassa |{Ruled by the Dalai-lama and
|{ | |{ his hierarchy, overseen
|{ | |{ by Chinese residents.
TIBET |{ | |
|{Ulterior Tibet |Shigatsé |{Ruled by the Teshu-lama,
| | |{ assisted by a resident
| | |{ from Peking.
----------+-----------------+-------------------+----------------------
~EXTENT OF MANCHURIA.~
_Manchuria_ is so termed from the leading race who dwell there, the
_Mandjurs_ or _Manchus_; it is a word of foreign origin, the Chinese
having no general appellation for the vice-royalty ruled from Mukden.
It comprises the eastern portion of the high table land of Central
Asia, and lies between latitudes 39° and 52° N., and longitudes 120°
to 134° E. These points include the limits in both directions, giving
the region a rectangular shape lying in a north-east and south-west
direction; roughly speaking, its dimensions are 800 by 500 miles. It is
bounded on the south by the Gulf of Pechele, and the highlands of Corea
on the north bank of the Yaluh River; on the east by a line running
from the Russian town of Possiet northerly to the River Usuri, so as to
include Hinka Lake; thence from its headwaters to its junction with the
Amur. This river forms the northern frontier; its tributary, the River
Argun, together with the large lakes Hurun and Puyur, lie on the west;
from the latter lake an artificial line stretching nearly due east for
six degrees in lat. 47° strikes the town of Tsitsihar on the River
Nonni. The rest of the western border follows the rivers Nonni and
Songari to the Palisade. This obsolete boundary commences at Shan-hai
kwan on the Gulf of Liatung and runs north-easterly; it nominally
separates the Mongols from the Manchus for nearly 300 miles, and really
exists only at the passes where the roads are guarded by military.
But a portion of this region has yet been traversed by Europeans, and
most of it is a wilderness. The entire population is not stated in the
census of 1812, and from the nature of the country and wandering habits
of the people, many tribes of whom render no allegiance to the Emperor,
it would be impossible to take a regular census. Parts of Manchuria, as
here defined, have been known under many names at different periods.
_Liautung_ (‘East of the River Liau’) has been applied to the country
between that river, Corea, and the Sea of Japan; _Tungking_ (‘Eastern
Capital’) referred to the chief town of that region, under the Ming
dynasty; and _Kwantung_ (‘East of the Pass’), denoting the same
country, is still a common designation for the whole territory.
Manchuria is now chiefly comprised in the valleys between the Usuri
and Nonni Rivers, up to the Amur on the north, while the basin of the
Liau on the south embraces the rest. There are three principal mountain
chains. Beginning nearly a hundred miles east of Mukden, in lat. 43°,
are the Long White Mountains[95] (_Chang-peh shan_ of the Chinese,
or _Kolmin-shang-uin alin_ of the Manchus), which form the watershed
between the Songari and Yaluh Rivers and serve for the northern
frontier of Corea as far as Russian territory. There it divides and
takes the name of Sih-hih-teh, or Sihoti Mountains, for the eastern
spur which runs near the ocean, east of the River Usuri; and the name
of Hurkar Mountains for the western and lower spurs between that river
and the Hurkar. One noted peak, called Mount Chakoran, rising over
10,000 feet, lies south-east of San-săng on the Amur. On the plain,
north of Kirin, numerous buttes occur, sometimes isolated, and often in
lines fifteen or twenty miles apart; most of them are wooded.
In the western part of Tsitsihar lies the third great range of
mountains in Manchuria, called the Sialkoi Mountains, a continuation
of the Inner Hing-an range of Mongolia, and separating the Argun and
Nonni basins. The Sialkoi range extends over a great part of Mongolia,
commencing near the bend of the Yellow River, and reaching in a
north-easterly direction, it forms in Manchuria three sides of the
extensive valley of the Nonni, ending between the Amur and Songari
Rivers at their junction. These regions are more arid than the eastern
portions, and the mountains are rather lower; but our information is
vague and scanty. As a whole, Manchuria should be called hilly rather
than mountainous, its intervales alone repaying cultivation.
~THE AMUR AND ITS AFFLUENTS.~
The country north of the Chang-peh shan as far as the Stanovoi
Mountains is drained by one river, viz., the Sagalien, Amur, Kwăntung,
or Hehlung kiang (for it is known by all these names), and its
affluents; _Sagalien ula_ in Manchu and _Hehlung kiang_ in Chinese,
each mean ‘Black’ or ‘Black Dragon River.’ The Amur drains the
north-eastern slope of Central Asia by a circuitous course, aided by
many large tributaries. Its source is in lat. 50° N. and long. 111° E.,
in a spur of the Daourian Mountains, called Kenteh, where it is called
the Onon. After an east and north-east course of nearly five hundred
miles, the Onon is joined in long. 115° E. by the Ingoda, a stream
coming from the east of Lake Baikal, where it takes its rise by a peak
called Tshokondo, the highest of the Yablonsi Khrebet Mountains. Beyond
this junction, under the Russian name of Shilka, it flows about two
hundred and sixty miles north-east till it meets the Argun. The Argun
rises about three degrees south of the Onon, on the south side of the
Kenteh, and under the name of Kerlon runs a solitary north-east course
for four hundred and thirty miles to Lake Hurun, Kerlon, or Dalai-nur;
the Kalka here comes in from Lake Puyur or Pir, and their waters leave
Lake Hurun at Ust-Strelotchnoi (the Arrow’s Mouth) under the name of
the Argun, flowing north nearly four hundred miles to the union with
the Shilka in lat. 53°; from its exit as the Argun and onward to the
entrance of the Usuri, it forms the boundary between China and Russia
for 1,593 versts, or 1,062 miles.
Beyond this town the united stream takes the name of the Amur (_i.e._,
Great River) or Sagalien of the Manchus, running nearly east about 550
miles beyond Albazin, when its course is south-east till it joins the
Songari. Most of the affluents are on the north bank; the main channel
grows wider as its size increases, having so many islands and banks
as seriously to interfere with navigation. The valley thus watered
possesses great natural advantages in soil, climate, and productions,
which are now gradually attracting Russian settlers. In lat. 47-1/2°
the Songari River (_Sung-hwa kiang_ of the Chinese) unites with the
Amur on the right bank, 950 miles from Ust-Strelotchnoi, bringing the
drainings of the greater portion of Manchuria, and doubling the main
volume of water. The headwaters of this stream issue from the northern
slopes of the Chang-peh shan; quickly combined in a single channel,
these waters flow past the town of Kirin, scarcely a hundred miles from
the mountains, in a river twelve feet deep and 900 wide. Near Petuné
the River Nonni joins it from Tsitsihar, and their united stream takes
the Chinese name of Kwantung (‘Mingled Union’); it is a mile and a half
wide here and only three or four feet deep, a sluggish river full of
islands. Then going east by north, growing deeper by its affluents, the
Hurka, Mayen, Tunni, Hulan, and other smaller ones, it unites with the
Amur at Changchu, a hundred miles west from the Usuri. All accounts
agree in giving the Songari the superiority. At Sansing, it is a deep
and rapid river, but further down islands and banks interfere with the
navigation. The Hurka drains the original country of the Manchus.[96]
The district south-east of the desert, and north of the Great Wall,
is drained and fertilized by the Sira-muren, or Liau River, which is
nearly valueless for navigation. Its main and western branch divides
near the Ín shan Mountains into the Hwang ho and Lahar; the former
rises near the Pecha peak, a noted point in those mountains. The
Sira-muren runs through a dry region for nearly 400 miles before it
turns south, and in a zigzag channel reaches the Gulf of Liautung,
a powerful stream carrying its quota of deposit into the ocean; the
width at Yingtsz’ is 650 feet. The depth is 16 feet on the bar at high
tide. The Yaluh kiang, nearly three hundred miles long, runs in a very
crooked channel along the northern frontiers of Corea. But little is
known about the two lakes, Hurun and Pir, except that their waters
are fresh and full of fish; the River Urshun unites them, and several
smaller streams run into the latter.
~NATURAL RESOURCES OF MANCHURIA.~
The larger part of Manchuria is covered by forests, the abode of wild
animals, whose capture affords employment, clothing, and food to their
hunters. The rivers and coasts abound in fish; among which carp,
sturgeon, salmon, pike, and other species, as well as shell-fish, are
plenty; the pearl-fishery is sufficiently remunerative to employ many
fishermen; the Chinese Government used to take cognizance of their
success, and collect a revenue in kind. The argali and jiggetai are
found here as well as in Mongolia; bears, wolves, tigers, deer, and
numerous fur-bearing animals are hunted for their skins. The troops are
required to furnish 2,400 stags annually to the Emperor, who reserves
for his own use only the fleshy part of the tail as a delicacy. Larks,
pheasants, and crows of various species, with pigeons, thrushes, and
grouse, abound. The condor is the largest bird of prey, and for its
size and fierceness rivals its congener of the Andes.
The greater half of Shingking and the south of Kirin is cultivated;
maize, Setaria wheat, barley, pulse, millet, and buckwheat are the
principal crops. Ginseng and rhubarb are collected by troops sent
out in detachments under the charge of their proper officers. These
sections support, moreover, large herds of various domestic animals.
The timber which covers the mountains will prove a source of wealth as
soon as a remunerative market stimulates the skill and enterprise of
settlers; even now, logs over three feet in diameter find their way up
to Peking, brought from the Liau valley.
~THE PROVINCE OF SHINGKING.~
Manchuria is divided into three provinces, _Shingking_, _Kirin_, and
_Tsitsihar_. The province of SHINGKING includes the ancient Liautung,
and is bounded north by Mongolia; north-east and east by Kirin; south
by the Gulf of Liautung and Corea, from which latter it is separated
by the Yaluh River; and west by Chahar in Chihlí. It contains two
departments, viz., Fungtien and Kinchau, subdivided into fifteen
districts; there are also twelve garrisoned posts at the twelve gates
in the Palisade, whose inmates collect a small tax on travellers and
goods. Manchuria is under a strictly military government, every male
above eighteen being liable for military service, and being, in fact,
enrolled under that one of the eight standards to which by birth he
belongs. The administration of Shingking is partly civil and partly
military; that of Kirin and Tsitsihar is entirely military.
The population of the province has been estimated by T. T. Meadows[97]
at twelve millions, consisting of Manchus and Chinese. The coast
districts are now mostly occupied and cultivated by emigrants from
Shantung, who are pushing the Manchus toward the Amur, or compelling
them to leave their hunting and take to farming if they wish to stay
where they were born. The conquerors are being civilized and developed
by their subjects, losing the use of their own meagre language, and
becoming more comfortable as they learn to be industrious. But few
aboriginal settlements now remain who still resist these influences.
The inhabitants collect near the river, or along the great roads, where
food or a market are easiest found.
The capital of Shingking is usually known on the spot as Shin-yang, an
older name than the Manchu Mukden, or the Chinese name Fungtien. As the
metropolis of Manchuria, it is also known as Shingking (the ‘Affluent
Capital’), distinguished from the name of the province by the addition
of _pun-ching_, or ‘head-garrison.’ It lies in lat. 41° 50-1/2′ N. and
long. 123° 30′ E., on the banks of the Shin, a small branch of the
Liau, and is reckoned to be five hundred miles north-east from Peking.
The town is surrounded by a low mud wall about ten miles in circuit, at
least half a mile distant from the main city wall, whose eight gates
have double archways so that the crowd may not interfere in passing;
this wall is about three miles around, and its towers and bastions are
in good condition. It is 35 or 40 feet high, and 15 feet wide at the
top, of brick throughout; a crenulated parapet protects the guard.
But for its smaller scale, the walls and buildings here are precisely
similar to those at Peking. The streets are wide, clean, and the main
business avenues lined with large, well built shops, their counters,
windows, and other arrangements indicating a great trade. This capital
contains a large proportion of governmental establishments, _yamuns_,
and nearly all the officials belong to the ruling race. Main streets
run across the city from gate to gate, with narrow roads or _hu-tung_
intersecting them. The palace of the early Manchu sovereigns occupies
the centre; while the large warehouses are outside of the inner city.
Everywhere marks of prosperity and security indicate an enterprising
population, and for its tidy look, industrious and courteous
population, Mukden takes high rank among Chinese cities. Its population
is estimated to be under 200,000, mostly Chinese. The Manchu monarchs
made it the seat of their government in 1631, and the Emperors have
since done everything in their power to enlarge and beautify it. The
Emperor Kienlung rendered himself celebrated among his subjects, and
made the city of Mukden better known abroad, by a poetical eulogy upon
the city and province, which was printed in sixty-four different forms
of Chinese writing. This curious piece of imperial vanity and literary
effort was translated into French by Amyot.
The town of Hingking,[98] sixty miles east of it, is one of the favored
places in Shingking, from its being the family residence of the Manchu
monarchs, and the burial-ground of their ancestors. It is pleasantly
situated in an elevated valley, the tombs being three miles north of
it upon a mountain called _Tsz’yun shan_. The circuit of the walls is
about three miles. Hingking lies near the Palisade which separates
the province from Kirin, and its officers have the rule over the
surrounding country, and the entrances into that province. It has now
dwindled to a small hamlet, and the guards connected with the tombs
comprise most of the inhabitants.
Kinchau, fifteen leagues from Mukden, carries on considerable trade
in cattle, pulse, and drugs. Gutzlaff[99] describes the harbor as
shallow, and exposed to southern gales; the houses in the town are
built of stone, the environs well cultivated and settled by Chinese
from Shantung, while natives of Fuhkien conduct the trade. The Manchus
lead an idle life, but keep on good terms with the Chinese. When he was
there in 1832, the authorities had ordered all the females to seclude
themselves in order to put a stop to debauchery among the native
sailors. Horses and camels are numerous and cheap, but the carriages
are clumsy. Kaichau, another port lying on the east side of the gulf,
possesses a better harbor, but is not so much frequented.
~TRADE AND CLIMATE OF MANCHURIA.~
Since the treaty of 1858 opened the port of Niuchwang or Yingtsz’, on
the River Liau, to foreign trade, the development of Shingking has
rapidly increased. The trade in pulse and bean-cake and oil employs
many vessels annually. Opium, silk, and paper are prepared for export
through this mart, besides foreign goods. Fung-hwang ting, lying
near the Yaluh River, commands all the trade with Corea, which must
pass through it. There are many restrictions upon this intercourse
by both governments, and the Chinese forbid their subjects passing
the frontiers. The trade is conducted at fairs, under the supervision
of officers and soldiers; the short time allowed for concluding the
bargains, and the great numbers resorting to them, render these bazaars
more like the frays of opposing clans than the scenes of peaceable
trade. There is a market-town in Corea itself, called Kí-iu wăn, about
four leagues from the frontier, where the Chinese “supply the Coreans
with dogs, cats, pipes, leather, stags’ horns, copper, horses, mules,
and asses; and receive in exchange, baskets, kitchen utensils, rice,
corn, swine, paper, mats, oxen, furs, and small horses.” Merchants are
allowed not more than four or five hours in which to conduct this fair,
and the Corean officers under whose charge it is placed, drive all
strangers back to the frontier as soon as the day closes.[100]
The borders of the sea consist of alluvial soil, efflorescing a nitrous
white salt near the beach, but very fertile inland, well cultivated
and populous. Beyond, the hill-country is extremely picturesque.
Ever-changing views, torrents and fountains, varied and abounding
vegetation, flocks of black cattle grazing on the hillsides, goats
perched on the overhanging crags, horses, asses, and sheep lower down
in the intervales, numerous well-built hamlets, everywhere enliven
the scene. The department of Kinchau lies along the Gulf of Liautung,
between the Palisade and the sea, and contains four small district
towns, with forts, around whose garrisons of agricultural troops have
collected a few settlers. On the south, toward Chihlí and the Wall, the
country is better cultivated.
The climate of Manchuria, as a whole, is healthy and moderate, far
removed from the rigor of the plateau on its west, and not so moist as
the outlying islands on the east. In summer the ranges are 70° to 90°
F., thence down to 10° or 20° below zero. The rivers remain frozen from
December nearly to April, and the fall of snow is less than in Eastern
America. The seasons are really six weeks of spring, five months of
summer, six weeks of autumn and four months of winter; the last is in
some respects the enjoyable period, and is used by the farmers to bring
produce to market. If the houses were tighter, their inmates would
suffer little during the cold season. Huc speaks of hail storms which
killed flocks of sheep in Mongolia, near Chahar. Darwin (_Naturalist’s
Voyage_, 2d ed., 1845, p. 115) corroborates the possibility of his
statement by a somewhat similar experience near Buenos Ayres. He
here saw many deer and other wild animals killed by “hail as large
as small apples and extremely hard.” Of the denuded country, near
the Liau River, Abbé Huc says: “Although it is uncertain where God
placed paradise, we may be sure that he chose some other country than
Liautung; for of all savage regions, this takes a distinguished rank
for the aridity of the soil and rigor of the climate. On his entrance,
the traveller remarks the barren aspect of most of the hills, and the
nakedness of the plains, where not a tree nor a thicket, and hardly a
slip of a herb is to be seen. The natives are superior to any Europeans
I have ever seen for their powers of eating; beef and pork abound
on their tables, and I think dogs and horses, too, under some other
name; rich people eat rice, the poor are content with boiled millet,
or with another grain called _hac-bam_, about thrice the size of
millet and tasting like wheat, which I never saw elsewhere. The vine
is cultivated, but must be covered from October to April; the grapes
are so watery that a hundred litres of juice produce by distillation
only forty of poor spirit. The leaves of an oak are used to rear wild
silkworms, and this is a considerable branch of industry. The people
relish the worms as food after the cocoons have been boiled, drawing
them out with a pin, and sucking the whole until nothing but the
pellicle is left.”[101] Another says, the ground freezes seven feet
in Kirin, and about three in Shingking; the thermometer in winter is
thirty degrees below zero. The snow is raised into the air by the
north-east winds, and becomes so fine that it penetrates the clothes,
houses, and enters even the lungs. When travelling, the eyebrows become
a mass of ice, the beard a large flake, and the eyelashes are frozen
together; the wind cuts and pierces the skin like razors or needles.
The earth is frozen during eight months, but vegetation in summer is
rapid, and the streams are swollen by the thawing drifts of snow.
The province of KIRIN, or Girin, comprises the country north-east
of Shingking, as far as the Amur and Usuri, which bound it on the
north and east, while Corea and Shingking lie on the south-east
(better separated by the Chang-peh shan than any political confine)
and Mongolia on the west. All signs of the line of palisades have
disappeared (save at the Passes) in the entire _trajet_ between the
Songari and Shan-hai kwan. The region is mountainous, except in the
link of that river after the Nonni joins it till the Usuri comes in,
measuring about one-fourth of the whole. This extensive region is
thinly inhabited by Manchus settled in garrisons along the bottoms
of the rivers, by Goldies, Mangoons, Ghiliaks, and tribes having
affinity with them, who subsist principally by hunting and fishing,
and acknowledge their fealty by a tribute of peltry, but who have no
officers of government placed over them. Du Halde calls them _Kíching
Tatse_, _Yupí Tatse_, and other names, which seem, indeed, to have
been their ancient designations. The _Yu-pí Tahtsí_, or ‘Fish-skin
Tartars,’[102] are said to inhabit the extensive valley of the Usuri,
and do not allow the subjects of the Emperor to live among them. In
winter they nestle together in kraals like the Bushmen, and subsist
upon the products of their summer’s fishing, having cut down fuel
enough to last them till warm weather. Shut out, as they have been
during the past, from all elevating influences, these people are likely
to be ere long amalgamated and lost, as well among Russian and other
settlers coming in from the north, as amid the Chinese immigrants
who occupy their land in the south. The entire population of this
province cannot be reckoned, from present information, as high as three
millions, the greater part of which live along the Songari valley.
~TOWNS AND PRODUCTIONS OF KIRIN PROVINCE.~
Kirin is divided into three ruling _ting_ departments or commanderies,
viz., Kirin ula, or the garrison of Kirin, Petuné or Pedné, and
Changchun ting. Kirin, the largest of the three, is subdivided into
eight garrison districts. The town, called _Chuen Chwang_, or ‘Navy
Yard,’ in Chinese, is finely situated on the Songari, in lat. 43° 45′
N., and long. 127° 25′ E., at the foot of encircling hills, where the
river is a thousand feet wide. The streets are narrow and irregular,
the shops low and small, and much ground in the city is unoccupied. Two
great streets cross each other at right angles, one of them running far
into the river on the west supported by piles. The highways are paved
with wooden blocks, and adorned with flowers, gold fish, and squares;
its population is about 50,000.
The four other important places in Kirin are Petuné, Larin, Altchuku,
or A-shi-ho, and Sansing, the latter at the confluent of the Songari
and Hurka. Altchuku is the largest, and Petuné next in size, each town
having not far from 35,000 inhabitants; Larin is perhaps half as large,
and like the others steadily increasing in numbers and importance.
Ninguta on the river Hurka has wide regions under its sway where
ginseng is gathered; near the stockaded town is a subterranean body of
water that furnishes large fish. A great and influential portion of the
Chinese population is Moslem, but no Manchus reside in the place. The
former control trade and travel in every town.
Petuné, in lat. 45° 20′ N., and long. 125° 10′ E., is inhabited by
troops and many persons banished from China for their crimes. Its
favorable position renders it a place of considerable trade, and during
the summer months it is a busy mart for these thinly peopled regions.
It consists of two main streets, with the chief market at their
crossing. A large mosque attracts attention. The third commandery of
Changchun, west of Kirin and south of Petuné, just beyond the Palisade,
is a mere post for overseeing the Manchus and Mongols passing to and
fro on the edge of the steppe.
The resources of this wide domain in timber, minerals, metals, cattle
and grain have not yet been explored or developed. The hills are wooded
to the top, the bottoms bring forth two crops annually, and the rivers
take down timber and grain to the Russian settlers. Sorghum, millet,
barley, maize, pulse, indigo, and tobacco are the chief crops; and
latterly opium, which has rapidly extended, because it pays well. Oil
and whiskey are extensively manufactured, packed in wicker baskets
lined with paper and transported on wheelbarrows. The wild and domestic
animals are numerous. Among the latter the hogs and mules, more
than any other kind, furnish food and transportation; while tigers,
panthers, and leopards, bears, wolves, and foxes reward the hunters for
their pains in killing them.
~THE PROVINCE OF TSI-TSI-HAR.~
The province of TSI-TSI-HAR, or Hehlung kiang, comprises the northwest
of Manchuria, extending four hundred miles from east to west, and about
five hundred from north to south. It is bounded north by the Amur, from
Shilka to its junction with the Songari; east and southeast by Kirin,
from which the Songari partly separates it; southwest by Mongolia, and
west by the River Argun, dividing it from Russia. The greatest part
of it is occupied by the valley of the Nonni, Noun or Nún; its area
of about two hundred thousand square miles is mostly an uninhabited,
mountainous wilderness. It is divided into six commanderies, viz.:
Tsitsihar, Hulan, Putek, Merguen, Sagalien ula, and Hurun-pir, whose
officers have control over the tribes within their limits; of these,
Sagalien or Igoon is the chief town in the northeast districts, and is
used by the government of Peking as a penal settlement. The town stands
on a plain but a rood or so above the river, which sweeps off to the
mountains in the distance. Here is posted a large force of officers and
men, their extensive barracks indicating the importance attached to the
place. The garrison has gradually attracted a population of natives
and Chinese from the south, who live by fishing and hunting, as well as
farming.
Tsitsihar, the capital of the province, lies on the River Nonni, in
lat. 47° 20′ N., and long. 124° E., and is a place of some trade,
resorted to by the tribes near the river. Merguen, Hurun-pir, and Hulan
are situated upon rivers, and accessible when the waters are free from
ice. Tsitsihar was built in 1692 by Kanghí to overawe the neighboring
tribes. It is inclosed by a stockade and a ditch. The one-storied
houses are constructed of logs, or of brick stuccoed, where timber
is dear, and warmed by the brick beds; the tall chimneys outside the
main buildings give a peculiar appearance to villages. Pulse, maize,
tobacco, millet, and wheat, and latterly poppy are common crops. The
valley of the Nonni is cultivated by the Taguri Manchus, among whom six
thousand six hundred families of Yakutes settled in 1687, when they
emigrated from Siberia. The Korchin Mongols occupy the country south
and west of this valley. Some of its streams produce large pearls.
The region lying between the Sialkoi Mountains and the River Argun is
rough and sterile, presenting few inducements to agriculturalists. Fish
abound in all the rivers, and furs are sought in the hills. Pasturage
is excellent in the bottoms. Fairs, between the natives and Cossacks,
are constantly held at convenient places on the Argun and other rivers.
The racial distinction between the Mongols and Manchus is here seen in
the agricultural labors of the latter, so opposed to the nomadic habits
of the former. This region has, within the last half century, attracted
Chinese settlers from Shantung and Chihlí. These colonists are fast
filling up the vacant lands along the rivers, dispossessing the Manchus
by their thrift and industry, and making the country far more valuable.
They will in this way secure its possession to the Peking Government,
and bring it, by degrees, under Chinese control, greatly to the benefit
of all. In early days the policy of the Manchus, like that of the E.
I. Company in India towards British immigration, discountenanced the
entrance of Chinese settlers, and in both cases to the disadvantage of
the ruling power.
The administration of Manchuria consists of a supreme civil government
at Mukden, and three provincial military ones, though Shingking is
under both civil and military. There are five Boards, each under
a president, whose duties are analogous to those at Peking. The
oversight of the city itself is under a _fuyin_ or mayor, superior to
the prefect. The three provinces are under as many marshals, whose
subordinates rule the commanderies, and these last have garrison
officers subject to them, whose rank and power correspond to the size
and importance of their districts. These delegate part of their power
to “assistant directors,” or residents, who are stationed in every
town; on the frontier posts, the officers have a higher grade, and
report directly to the marshals or their lieutenants. All the officers,
both civil and military, are Manchus, and a great portion of them
belong to the imperial clan, or are intimately connected with it. By
this arrangement, the Manchus are in a measure disconnected with the
general government of the provinces, furnished with offices and titles,
and induced to recommend themselves for promotion in the Empire by
their zeal and fidelity in their distant posts.[103]
MONGOLIA is the first in order of the colonies, by which are meant
those parts of the Empire under the control of the _Lí-fan Yuen_, or
Foreign Office.[104] According to the statistics of the Empire, it
comprises the region lying between lats. 35° and 52° N., and from
long. 82° to 123° E.; bounded north by the Russian governments of
Trans-Baikalia, Irkutsk, Yeniseisk, Tomsk, and Semipolatinsk; northeast
and east by Manchuria; south by the provinces of Chihlí and Shansí,
and the Yellow River; southwest by Kansuh; and west by Cobdo and Ílí.
These limits are not very strictly marked at all points, but the length
from east to west is about seventeen hundred miles, and one thousand
in its greatest breadth, inclosing an area of 1,400,000 square miles,
supporting an estimated population of two millions. This elevated
plain is almost destitute of wood or water, inclosed southward by the
mountains of Tibet, and northward by offsets from the Altai range. The
central part is occupied by the desert of Gobi, a barren steppe having
an average height of 4,000 feet above the sea level, and destitute of
all running water. Owing to its elevation, extremely variable climate,
and the absence of oases, it may be considered quite as terrible as
Sahara, although the sand-waste here is, perhaps, hardly as unmitigated.
~CLIMATE AND DIVISIONS OF MONGOLIA.~
The climate of Mongolia is excessively cold for the latitude, arising
partly from its elevation and dry atmosphere, and, on the steppes, to
the want of shelter from the winds. But this has its compensation in an
unclouded sky and the genial rays of the sun, which support and cheer
the people to exertion when the thermometer is far below zero. The air
has been drained of its moisture by the ridges on every side; day after
day the sun’s heat reaches the earth with smaller loss than obtains
in moister regions in the same latitudes. Otherwise these wastes
would support no life at all at such an elevation. In the districts
bordering on Chihlí, the people make their houses partly under ground,
in order to avoid the inclemency of the season. The soil in and upon
the confines of this high land is unfit for agricultural purposes,
neither snow nor rain falling in sufficient quantities, except on the
acclivities of the mountain ranges; but millet, barley, and wheat might
be raised north and south of it. The nomads rejoice in their freedom
from tillage, however, and move about with their herds and possessions
within the limits marked out by the Chinese for each tribe to occupy.
The space on the north of Gobi to the confines of Russia, about one
hundred and fifty miles wide, is warmer than the desert, and supports
a greater population than the southern sides. Cattle are numerous on
the hilly tracts, but none are found in the desert, where wild animals
and birds hold undisputed possession. The thermometer in winter sinks
to thirty and forty degrees below zero (Fr.), and sudden and great
changes are frequent. No month in the year is free from snow or frost;
but on the steppes, the heat in summer is almost intolerable, owing to
the radiation from the sandy or stony surface. The snow does not fall
very deep, and even in cold weather the cattle find food under it; the
flocks and herds are not, however, large.
The principal divisions of Mongolia are four, viz.: 1, Inner Mongolia,
lying between the Wall and south of the desert; 2, Outer Mongolia,
between the desert and the Altai Mountains, and reaching from the
Inner Hing-an to the Tien shan; 3, the country about Koko-nor, between
Kansuh, Sz’chuen, and Tibet; and, 4, the dependencies of Uliasutai,
lying northwestward of the Kalkas khanates. The whole of this region
has been included under the comprehensive name of Tartary, and if the
limits of Inner and Outer Mongolia had been the bounds of Tartary, the
appellation would have been somewhat appropriate. But when Genghis
arose to power, he called his own tribe _Kukai Mongöl_, ‘Celestial
People,’ and designated all the other tribes _Tatars_, that is
‘tributaries.’[105] The three tribes of Kalkas, Tsakhars, and Sunnites,
now constitute the great body of Mongols under Chinese rule.
~TRIBES OF INNER MONGOLIA.~
INNER MONGOLIA, or _Nui Mungku_, is bounded north by Tsitsihar, the
Tsetsen khanate, and Gobi, their frontiers being almost undefinable;
east by Kirin and Shingking; south by Chihlí and Shansí; and west by
Kansuh. Wherever it runs the Wall is popularly regarded as the boundary
between China and Mongolia. The country is divided into six _ming_ or
_chalkans_, like our corps, and twenty-four _aimaks_[106] (tribes),
which are again placed under forty-nine standards or _khochoun_, each
of which generally includes about two thousand families, commanded by
hereditary princes, or dsassaks. The principal tribes are the Kortchin
and Ortous. The large tribe of the Tsakhars, which occupies the region
north of the Wall, is governed by a _tutung_, or general, residing at
Kalgan, and their pasture grounds are now nominally included in the
province of Chihlí. The province of Shansí in like manner includes
the lands occupied by the Toumets, who are under the control of a
general stationed at Suiyuen, beyond the Yellow River. In the pastures
northwest from Kalgan, in the vicinity of Lakes Chazau and Ichí, and
reaching more than a hundred miles from the Great Wall, lie the tracts
appropriated to raising horses for the “Yellow Banner Corps.” Excepting
such grazing lands or the vast hunting grounds near Jeh-ho, reserved
in like manner by the government, small settlements of Chinese are
continually squatting over the plains of Inner Mongolia, from whence
they have already succeeded in driving many of the aboriginal Mongol
tribes off to the north. Those natives who will not retire are fain to
save themselves from starvation or absorption by cultivating the soil
after the fashion of their neighbors, the Chinese immigrants. It was,
indeed, this influx of settlers which led Kanghí to erect the southern
portion of Inner Mongolia into prefectures and districts like China
Proper. This alteration of habits among its population seems destined,
ere long, to modify the aspect of the country.
Most of the smaller tribes, except the Ortous, live between the western
frontiers of Manchuria, and the steppes reaching north to the Sialkoi
range, and south to Chahar. These tribes are peculiarly favored by the
Manchus, from their having joined them in their conquest of China,
and their leading men are often promoted to high stations in the
government of the country.
~OUTER MONGOLIA.~
OUTER MONGOLIA, or _Wai Mungku_, is the wild tract lying north of
the last as far as Russia. It is bounded north by Russia, east by
Tsitsihar, southeast and south by Inner Mongolia, southwest by
Barkul in Kansuh, west by Tarbagatai, and northwest by Cobdo and
Uliasutai. The desert of Gobi occupies the southern half of the
region. It is divided into four _lu_, or circuits, each of which is
governed by a khan or prince, claiming direct descent from Genghis,
and superintending the internal management of his own khanate. The
Tsetsen khanate lies west of Hurun-pir in Tsitsihar, extending from
Russia south to Inner Mongolia. West of it, reaching from Siberia
across the desert to Inner Mongolia, lies the Tuchétu (or _Tusiétu_ of
Klaproth[107]) khanate, the most considerable of the four; the road
from Kiakhta to Kalgan lies within its borders. West of the last, and
bounded south by Gobi and northeast by Uliasutai, lies the region
of the Kalkas of Sainnoin; and on its northwest lies the Dsassaktu
khanate, south of Uliasutai, and reaching to Barkul and Cobdo on the
south and west. All of them are politically under the control of two
Manchu residents stationed at Urga, who direct the mutual interests of
the Mongols, Chinese, and Russians.
Urga, or Kuren, the capital, is situated in the Tuchétu khanate,
in lat. 48° 20′ N., and long. 107-1/2° E., on the Tola River, a
branch of the Selenga. It is the largest and most important place in
Mongolia, and is divided into _Maimai chin_, the Chinese quarter,
and _Bogdo-Kuren_, the Mongol settlement, nearly three miles from
the other. Its total population is estimated at 30,000, the Chinese
inhabitants of which are forbidden by law to live with their families;
of the Mongols here, by far the larger part is composed of lamas.
In the estimation of these people Urga stands next to H’lassa in
degree of sanctity, being the seat of the third person in the Tibetan
patriarchate. According to the Lama doctrine this dignitary--the
_Kutuktu_--is the terrestrial impersonation of the Godhead and never
dies, but passes, after his apparent decease, into the body of some
newly born boy, who is sought for afterwards according to the prophetic
indications of the Dalai-lama in Tibet. This holy potentate, though
of limited education and entirely under the control of the attendant
lamas, exercises an unbounded influence over the Kalkas. It is, indeed,
by means of him that the Chinese officials control the native races of
Mongolia. His wealth, owing to contributions of enthusiastic devotees,
is enormous; in and about Urga he owns 150,000 slaves, an abundance of
worldly goods, and the most pretentious palace in Mongolia. Outside
of its religious buildings, Urga is disgustingly dirty; the filth is
thrown into the streets, and the habits of the people are loathsome.
Decrepid beggars and starving dogs infest the ways; dead bodies,
instead of being interred, are flung to birds and beasts of prey; huts
and hovels afford shelter for both rich and poor.[108]
The four khanates constitute one _aimak_ or tribe, subdivided into
eighty-six standards, each of which is restricted to a certain
territory, within which it wanders about at pleasure. There are
altogether one hundred and thirty-five standards of the Mongols. The
Kalkas chiefly live between the Altai Mountains and Gobi, but do not
cultivate the soil to much effect. They are devoted to Buddhism, and
the lamas hold most of the power in their hands through the _Kutuktu_.
They render an annual tribute to the Emperor of horses, camels, sheep,
and other animals or their skins, and receive presents in return of
many times its value, so that they are kept in subjection by constant
bribing; the least restiveness on their part is visited by a reduction
of presents and other penalties. An energetic government, however, is
not wanting in addition. The supreme tribunal is at Urga; it is the
_yamun_, par excellence, and has both civil and military jurisdiction.
The decisions are subject to the revision of the two Chinese residents,
and sentences are usually carried into execution after their
confirmation. The punishments are horribly severe; but only a decided
and cruel hand over these wild tribes can keep them from constant
strife.
Letters are encouraged among them by the Manchus, but with little
success. Many Buddhist books have been translated into Mongolian
by order of the Emperors; nor can we wonder at the indifference to
literature when this stuff is the aliment provided them. Their tents,
or _yurts_, are made of wooden laths fastened together so as to form a
coarse lattice-work; the framework consists of several lengths secured
with ropes, leaving a door about three feet square. The average size
is twelve feet across and ten feet high; its shape is round and the
conical roof admits light where it emits smoke. The poles or rafters
are looped to the sides, and fastened to a hoop at the top. Upon this
framework sheets of heavy felt are secured according to the season.
A hearth in the centre holds the fire which heats the kettle hanging
over it, and warms the inmates squatted round, who usually place only
felt and sheepskins under them. The felt protects from cold, rain,
snow, and heat in a wonderful manner. A first-class _yurt_ is by no
means an uncomfortable dwelling, with its furniture, lining, shrine,
and hot kettle in the centre. A carpet for sleeping and sitting on is
sometimes seen in _yurts_ of the wealthier classes; in these, too, the
walls are lined with cotton or silk, and the floors are of wood. The
lodges of the rich Kalkas have several apartments, and are elegantly
furnished, but destitute of cleanliness, comfort, or airiness. Most of
their cloths, utensils, and arms are procured from the Chinese. The
Sunnites are fewer than the Kalkas, and roam the wide wastes of Gobi.
Both derive some revenue from conducting caravans across their country,
but depend for their livelihood chiefly upon the produce of their herds
and hunting. Their princes are obliged to reside in Urga, or keep
hostages there, in order that the residents may direct and restrain
their conduct; but their devotion to the _Kutuktu_, and the easy life
they lead, are the strongest inducements to remain.
~KIAKHTA AND THE TRADE WITH RUSSIA.~
The trade with Russia formerly all passed through Kiakhta, a
town near the frontier, and was carried on by special agents and
officials appointed by each nation. The whole business was managed
in the interest of the government, and its ramifications furnished
employment, position, and support to so many persons as to form a
bond of union and guaranty of peace between them and their subjects.
Timkowski’s journey with the decennial mission to Peking in 1820-21
furnishes one of the best accounts of this trade and intercourse now
accessible, and with Klaproth’s notes, given in the English translation
published in 1827, has long been the chief reliable authority for the
divisions and organization of the Mongol tribes. Since the opening of
the Suez Canal, through which Russian steamers carry goods to and fro
between Odessa and China, the largest portion of the Chinese produce
no longer goes to Kiakhta. That which is required for Siberia is sent
from Hankow by way of Shansí, or from Kalgan and Tientsin, under the
direction of Russian merchants at those places. Furs, which once formed
the richest part of this produce, are gradually diminishing in quality
and quantity with the increase of settlers. In 1843 the export of black
tea for Russian consumption was only eight millions of pounds, besides
the brick tea taken by the Mongols. Cottrell states the total value of
the trade, annually, at that period, at a hundred millions of rubles,
reckoned then to be equal to $20,830,000, on which the Russians paid,
in 1836, about $2,500,000 as import duty. The data respecting this
trade of forty years ago are not very accurate, probably; the monopoly
was upheld mostly for the benefit of the officials, as private traders
found it too much burdened.
Kiakhta is a hamlet of no importance apart from the trade. The frontier
here is marked by a row of granite columns; a stockade separates it
from Maimai chin. Pumpelly says: “One can hardly imagine a sharper line
than is here drawn. On the one side of the stockade wall, the houses,
churches, and people are European, on the other, Chinese. With one step
the traveller passes really from Asia and Asiatic customs and language,
into a refined European society.” The goods pay duty at the Russian
_douane_ in a suburb of fifty houses, near Kiakhta. The Chinese town is
also a small place, numbering between twelve and fifteen hundred men
(no women being allowed in the settlement) who lived in idleness most
of the year. This curious hamlet has two principal streets crossing at
right angles, and gates at the four ends, in the wooden wall which
surrounds it. These streets are badly paved, while their narrowness
barely allows the passage of two camels abreast. The one-storied houses
are constructed of wood, roofed with turf or boards, and consist of
two small rooms, one used as a shop and the other as a bedroom. The
windows in the rear apartment are made of oiled paper or mica, but the
door is the only opening in the shop. The dwellings are kept clean,
the furniture is of a superior description, and considerable taste and
show are seen in displaying the goods. The traders live luxuriously,
and attract a great crowd there during the fair in February, when the
goods are exchanged. They are under the control of a Manchu, called the
_dzarguchí_, who is appointed for three years, and superintends the
police of the settlement as well as the commercial proceedings. There
are two Buddhist temples here served by lamas, and containing five
colossal images sitting cross-legged, and numerous smaller idols.[109]
The western portion of Mongolia, between the meridians of 84° and 96°
E., extending from near the western extremity of Kansuh province to the
confines of Russia, comprising Uliasutai and its dependencies, Cobdo,
and the Kalkas and Tourgouths of the Tangnu Mountains, is less known
than any other part of it. The residence of the superintending officer
of this province is at Uliasutai (_i.e._, ‘Poplar Grove’), a town
lying northwest of the Selenga, in the khanate of Sainnoin, in a well
cultivated and pleasant valley.
~THE PROVINCE OF COBDO.~
COBDO, according to the Chinese maps, lies in the northwest of
Mongolia; it is bounded north and west by the government Yeniseisk,
northeast by Ulianghai, and southeast by the Dsassaktu khanate, south
by Kansuh, and west by Tarbagatai. The part occupied by the Ulianghai
or Uriyangkit tribes of the Tangnu Mountains lies northeast of Cobdo,
and north of the Sainnoin and Dsassaktu khanates, and separated
from Russia by the Altai. These tribes are allied to the Samoyeds,
and the rule over them is administered by twenty-five subordinate
military officers, subject to the resident at Uliasutai. This city
is said to contain about two thousand houses, is regularly built,
and carries on some trade with Urga; it lies on the Iro, a tributary
of the Jabkan. Cobdo comprises eleven tribes of Kalkas divided into
thirty-one standards, whose princes obey an amban at Cobdo City,
himself subordinate to the resident at Uliasutai. The Chinese rule
over these tribes is conducted on the same principles as that over the
other Mongols, and they all render fealty to the Emperor through the
chief resident at Uliasutai, but how much obedience is really paid his
orders is not known. The Kalkas submitted to the Emperor in 1688 to
avoid extinction in their war with the Eleuths, by whom they had been
defeated.
Cobdo contains several lakes, many of which receive rivers without
having any outlet. The largest is Upsa-nor, which receives from
the east the River Tes, and the Íkí-aral-nor into which the Jabkan
runs. The River Irtysh falls into Lake Dzaisang. The existence of
so many rivers indicates a more fertile country north of the Altai
or Ektag Mountains, but no bounties of nature would avail to induce
the inhabitants to adopt settled modes of living and cultivate the
soil, if such a clannish state of society exists among them as is
described by M. Lévchine to be the case among their neighbors, the
Kirghís. The tribes in Cobdo resemble the American Indians in their
habits, disputes, and modes of life, more than the eastern Kalkas, who
approximate in their migratory character to the Arabs.
~THE PROVINCE AND LAKE OF KOKO-NOR.~
The province of Tsing hai, or KOKO-NOR (called Tsok-gum-bam by the
Tanguts), is not included in Mongolia by European geographers, nor in
the Chinese statistical works is it comprised within its borders; the
inhabitants are, however, mostly Mongols, both Buddhist and Moslem,
and the government is conducted on the same plan as that over the
Kalkas tribes further north. This region is known in the histories of
Central Asia under the names of Tangout, Sifan, Turfan, etc. On Chinese
maps it is politically called Tsing hai (‘Azure Sea’), but in their
books is named _Sí Yu_ or _Sí Yih_, ‘Western Limits.’ The borders are
now limited on the north by Kansuh, southeast by Sz’chuen, south by
Anterior Tibet, and west by the desert, comprising about four degrees
of latitude and eleven of longitude.
It includes within its limits several large lakes, which receive rivers
into their bosoms, and many of them having no outlets. The Azure Sea
is the largest, lying at an altitude of 10,500 feet and overlooked by
high mountains, which in winter are covered with snow, and in summer
form an emerald frame that deepens the blueness of the water. It is
over 200 miles in circuit, and its evaporation is replaced by the
inflowing waters of eight large streams; one small islet contains a
monastery, whose inmates are freed from their solitude only when the
ice makes a bridge, as no boat is known to have floated on its salt
water. The wide, moist plains on the east and west furnish pasturage
for domestic and wild animals, and constant collisions occur between
the tribes resorting there for food. The travels of Abbé Huc and Col.
Prejevalsky furnish nearly all that is known concerning the productions
and inhabitants of Koko-nor. The country is nominally divided into
thirty-four banners, and its Chinese rulers reside at Síning, east of
the lake; but they have more to do in defending themselves than in
protecting their subjects. The whole country is occupied by the Tanguts
of Tibetan origin, who are brigands by profession, and roam over the
mountains around the headwaters of the Yangtsz’ and Yellow Rivers; by
the Mohammedan Dunganis, who have latterly been nearly destroyed in
their recent rebellion; and by tribes of Mongols under the various
names of Eleuths, Kolos, Kalkas, Surgouths, and Koits. The Chinese maps
are filled with names of various tribes, but their statistical accounts
are as meagre of information as the maps are deficient in accurate and
satisfactory delineations.
The topographical features of this region are still imperfectly known,
and its inhospitable climate is rendered more dangerous by man’s
barbarity. High mountain masses alternate with narrow valleys and a
few large depressions containing lakes; the country lying south of
the Azure Sea, as far as Burmah, is exceedingly mountainous. West and
southwest of the lake extends the plain of Tsaidam, which at a recent
geological age has been the bed of a huge lake; it is now covered with
morasses, shaking bogs, small rivers, and sheets of water--the most
considerable of the latter being Lake Kara, in the extreme western
portion. The saline argillaceous soil of this region is not adapted
to vegetation. Large animals are scarce, due in part to the plague of
insects which compels even the natives to retreat to the mountains
with their herds during certain seasons. Its inhabitants are the same
as those of Eastern Koko-nor; they are divided into five banners, and
number about 1,000 _yurts_, or 5,000 souls.
The Burkhan-buddha range forms the southern boundary of this plain,
and the northernmost limit of the lofty plateau of Tibet. Its length
from east to west is not far from 130 miles, its eastern extremity
being near the Yegrai-ula (the near sources of the Yellow River) and
Toso-nor. The range has no lofty peaks, and stretches in an unbroken
chain at a height of 15,000 to 16,000 feet; it is terribly barren, but
does not attain the line of perpetual snow. The southern range, which
separates the headwaters of the Yellow and Yangtsz’ Rivers, is called
the Bayan-kara Mountains; that northwest of this is called on Chinese
maps, Kílien shan and Nan shan, and bounds the desert on the south.
On the northern declivities of the Nan shan range are several towns
lying on or near the road leading across Central Asia, which leaves
the valley of the Yellow River at Lanchau, in Kansuh, and runs N.N.W.
over a rough country to Liangchau, a town of some importance situated
in a fertile and populous district. From this place it goes northwest
to Kanchau, noted for its manufactures of felted cloths which are in
demand among the Mongol tribes of Koko-nor, and where large quantities
of rhubarb, horses, sheep, and other commodities are procured. Going
still northwest, the traveller reaches Suhchau, the last large place
before passing the Great Wall, which renders it a mart for provisions
and all articles brought from the west in exchange for the manufactures
of China. This city was the last stronghold of the Dungani Moslems,
and when they were destroyed in 1873 it began to revive out of its
ruins. About fifty miles from this town is the pass of Kiayü, beyond
which the road to Hami, Urumtsi, and Ílí leads directly across the
desert, here about three hundred miles wide. This route has been for
ages the line of internal communication between the west of China and
the regions lying around and in the basins of the Tarim River and the
Caspian.[110] A better idea of the security of traffic and caravans
within the Empire, and consequently of the goodness of the Chinese
rule, is obtained by comparing the usually safe travel on this route
with the hazards, robberies, and poverty formerly met with on the great
roads in Bokhara, and the regions south and west of the Belur tag.
~THE TANGUTS AND NOMADS OF KOKO-NOR.~
The productions of Koko-nor consist of grain and other vegetables
raised along the bottoms of the rivers and margins of the lakes;
sheep, cattle, horses, camels, and other animals. Alpine hares, wild
asses,[111] wild yaks, vultures, lammergeiers, pheasants, antelopes,
wolves, mountain sheep, and wild camels are among the denizens of the
wilds. The Chinese have settled among the tribes, and Mohammedans of
Turkish origin are found in the large towns. There are eight corps
between Koko-nor and Uliasutai, comprising all the tribes and banners,
and over which are placed as many supreme generals or commanders
appointed from Peking. The leading tribes in Koko-nor are Eleuths,
Tanguts, and Tourbeths, the former of whom are the remnants of one
of the most powerful tribes in Central Asia. Tangout submitted to
the Emperor in 1690, and its population since the incorporation has
greatly increased. They inhabit the hilly region of Kansuh, Koko-nor,
Eastern Tsaidam, and the basin of the Upper Yellow River. They resemble
gipsies, being above the average in height, with thick-set features,
broad shoulders, hair and whiskers, black, dark eyes, nose straight,
lips thick and protruding, face long and never flat, skin tawny.
Unlike the Mongols and Chinese they have a strong growth of beard and
whiskers which, however, they always shave. They wear no tail, but
shave their heads; their dress consists of furs and cloths made into
long coats that reach to the knees. Shirts or trowsers are not made
use of; their upper legs are generally left bare. Women dress like
the men. Their habitations are wooden huts or black cloth tents. The
Tangut is cunning, stingy, lazy, and shiftless. His sole occupation
that of tending cattle (yaks). He is even more zealous a Buddhist than
are the Mongols, and extremely superstitious.[112] The trade at Síning
is large, but not equal to that between Yunnan and Burmah at Talí and
Bhamo; dates, rhubarb, chowries, precious stones, felts, cloths, etc.,
are among the commodities seen in the bazaar. It lies about a hundred
miles from the sea, at an elevation of 7,800 feet, and near it is the
famous lamasary of Kumbum, where MM. Huc and Gabet lived in 1845. The
town is well situated upon the Síning ho, and though constructed for
the most part of wood, presents a fine appearance owing to the number
of official buildings therein. The population numbers some 60,000
souls.[113]
The towns lying between the Great Wall and Ílí, though politically
belonging to Kansuh, are more connected with the colonies in their
form of government than with the Eighteen Provinces. The first town
beyond the Kiayü Pass is Yuhmun, distant about ninety miles, and is
the residence of officers, who attend to the caravans going to and
from the pass. It is represented as lying near the junction of two
streams, which flow northerly into the Purunkí. The other district town
of Tunhwang lies across a mountainous country, upwards of two hundred
miles distant. The city of Ngansí chau has been built to facilitate
the communication across the desert to Hami or Kamil, the first town
in Songaria, and the dépôt of troops, arms, and munitions of war.
“With the town of Hami,” says an Austrian visitor in these regions,
“the traveller comes upon the southern foot-hills of the Tien shan,
and the first traces of Siberian civilization. Magnificent mountain
scenery accompanies him on his way toward the west to the Russian line.
In the government of Semipolatinsk are the express mail-wagons which
stand ready at his order to carry him at furious speed to the town of
the same name, then to the right bank of the River Irtysh, and so to
Omsk.”[114] This route and that stretching towards the southwest bring
an important trade to Hami; the country around it is cultivated by poor
Mongols.[115] Barkul, or Chinsí fu, in lat. 43° 40′ N., and long. 93°
30′ E., is the most important place in the department; the district is
called Ího hien. A thousand Manchus, and three thousand Chinese, guard
the post. The town is situated on the south of Lake Barkul, and its
vicinity receives some cultivation. Hami and Turfan each form a _ting_
district in the southeast and west of the department. The trade at all
these places consists mostly of articles of food and clothing.
Urumtsi, or Tih-hwa chau (the _Bich-balik_ of the Ouigours in
1100[116]), in lat. 43° 45′ N., and long. 89° E., is the westernmost
department of Kansuh, divided into three districts, and containing
many posts and settlements. In the war with the Eleuths in 1770, the
inhabitants around this place were exterminated, and the country
afterwards repeopled by upwards of ten thousand troops, with their
families, and by exiles; emigrants from Kansuh were also induced to
settle there. The Chinese accounts speak of a high mountain near the
city, always covered with ice and snow, whose base is wooded, and
abounding with pheasants; coal is also obtained in this region. The
cold is great, and snow falls as late as July. Many parts produce grain
and vegetables. All this department formerly constituted a portion of
Songaria. The policy of the Chinese government is to induce the tribes
to settle, by placing large bodies of troops with their families at
all important points, and sending their exiled criminals to till the
soil; the Mongols then find an increasing demand for their cattle and
other products, and are induced to become stationary to meet it. So far
as is known, this policy had succeeded well in the regions beyond the
Wall, and those around Koko-nor; but the rebellion of the Dunganis,
who arose in these outlying regions at the moment when the energies of
the Peking government were all directed to suppressing the Tai-ping
insurrection, destroyed these improvements, and frustrated, for an
indefinite period, the promising development of civilization among the
inhabitants.
~DIVISIONS AND BOUNDARIES OF ÍLÍ.~
That part of the Empire called ÍLÍ is a vast region lying on each side
of the Tien shan, and including a tract nearly as large as Mongolia,
and not much more susceptible of cultivation. Its limits may be
stated as extending from lat. 36° to 49° N., and from long. 71° to
96° E., and its entire area, although difficult to estimate from its
irregularity, can hardly be less than 900,000 square miles, of which
Songaria occupies rather more than one-third. It is divided into two
_Lu_, or ‘Circuits,’ viz., the Tien shan Peh Lu, and Tien shan Nan Lu,
or the circuits north and south of the Celestial Mountains. The former
is commonly designated Songaria, or Dzungaria, from the Songares or
Eleuths, who ruled it till a few scores of years past, and the latter
used to be known as Little Bokhara, or Eastern Turkestan.
Ílí is bounded north by the Altai range, separating it from the
Kirghís; northeast by the Irtysh River and Outer Mongolia; east and
southeast by Urumtsi and Barkul in Kansuh; south by the desert and the
Kwănlun range; and west by the Belur-tag, dividing it from Badakshan
and Russian territory.[117] In length, the Northern Circuit extends
about nine hundred miles, and the width, on an average, is three
hundred miles. The Southern Circuit reaches nearly twelve hundred and
fifty miles from west to east, and varies from three hundred to five
hundred in breadth, as it extends to the Kwănlun range on the south.
There is probably most arable land in the Northern Circuit.
~TOPOGRAPHY OF ÍLÍ.~
Ílí, taken north of the Tarim basin, may be regarded as an inland
isthmus, extending southwest from the south of Siberia, off between the
Gobi and Caspian deserts, till it reaches the Hindu Kush, leading down
to the valley of the Indus. The former of these deserts incloses it
on the east and south, the other on the west and northwest, separated
from each other by the Belur and Muz-tag ranges, which join with the
Tien shan, that divide the isthmus itself into two parts. These deserts
united are equal in extent to that of Sahara, but are not as arid and
tenantless.
This region has some peculiar features, among which its great
elevation, its isolation in respect to its water-courses, and the
character of its vegetation, are the most remarkable. Songaria is
especially noticeable for the many closed river-basins which occur
between the Altai and Tien shan, among the various minor ranges of
hills, each of which is entirely isolated, and containing a lake, the
receptacle of its drainage. The largest of these singular basins is
that of the River Ílí, which runs about three hundred miles westward,
from its rise in the Tien shan (lat. 85°) till it falls into Lake
Balkash, which also receives some other streams; the superficies of the
whole basin is about forty thousand square miles. The other lakes lie
north-eastward of Balkash; the largest of them are the Dzaisang, which
receives the Irtysh, the Kisilbash, into which the Urungu flows, and
four or five smaller ones between them, lying north of the city of Ílí.
Lake Temurtu, or Issik-kul, lies now just beyond the southwestern part
of this Circuit, and was until recently contained therein. This sheet
of water is deep and never freezes; it is brackish, but full of fish;
the dimensions are about one hundred miles long, and thirty-five wide;
its superabundant waters flow off through the Chu ho into the Kirghís
steppe.
The Ala-tau range defines the lake on the north shore. Says a Russian
traveller in describing this region, “It would be difficult to imagine
anything more splendid than the view of the Tien shan from this spot.
The dark blue surface of the Issik-kul, like sapphire, may well
bear comparison with the equally blue surface of Geneva Lake, but
its expanse--five times as great--seeming almost unlimited, and the
matchless splendor of its background, gives it a grandeur which the
Swiss lake does not possess. The unbroken, snowy chain here stretches
away for at least 200 miles of the length of the Issik-kul; the sharp
outlines of the spurs and dark valleys in the front range are softened
by a thin mist, which hangs over the water and heightens the clear,
sharp outlines of the white heads of the Tien shan giants, as they
rise and glisten on the azure canopy of a central Asian sky. The line
of perpetual snow commences at three-fifths of their slope up, but
as one looks, their snowless base seems to sink the deeper in the
far east, till the waves of the lake seem to wash the snowy crests
of Khan-Tengsè.” Forty small rivers flow into it, but its size is
gradually lessening.[118]
Little is known concerning the topography, the productions, or the
civilization of the tribes who inhabit a large part of Songaria, but
the efforts of the Chinese government have been systematically directed
to developing its agricultural resources, by stationing bodies of
troops, who cultivate the soil, there, and by banishing criminals
thither, who are obliged to work for and assist the troops. It gives
one a higher idea of the rulers of China, themselves wandering nomads
originally, when they are seen carrying on such a plan for extending
the capabilities of these remote parts of their Empire, and teaching,
partly by force, partly by bribes, and partly by example, the Mongol
tribes under them the advantages of a settled life.
The productions of Songaria are numerous. Wheat, barley, rice and
millet, are the chief corn stuffs; tobacco, cotton, melons, and some
fruits, are grown; herds of horses, camels, cattle, and sheep, afford
means of locomotion and food to the people, while the mountains and
lakes supply game and fish. The inhabitants are composed mostly of
Eleuths, with a tribe of Tourgouths, and remnants of the Songares,
together with Mongols, Manchus, and Chinese troops, settlers and
criminals.
~TIEN-SHAN PEH LU AND THE TOWN OF KULDJA.~
TIEN-SHAN PEH LU is divided by the Chinese into three commanderies,
_Ílí_ on the west, _Tarbagatai_ on the north, and _Kur-kara usu_ on
the east, between Ílí and the west end of Kansuh. The government of
the North and South Circuits is under the control of Manchu military
officers residing at Ílí. This city, called by the Chinese Hwuiyuen
ching, and Gouldja (or Kuldja) and Kuren by the natives, lies on the
north bank of the Ílí River, in lat. 43° 55′ N., and long. 81-1/2°
E.; it contains about fifty thousand inhabitants, and carries on
considerable trade with China through the towns in Kansuh. The city
was defended by six strong fortresses in its neighborhood, and the
solidity of the stone walls enabled it to resist a vigorous assault in
the Dungani rebellion. Its circuit is nearly four miles, and two wide
avenues cross its centre, dividing it into four equal parts, through
each of which run many lanes. Its houses indicate the Turkish origin
of its builders in their clay or adobe walls and flat roofs, and this
impression is increased by the Jumma mosque of the Taranchis, and the
Dungan mosque, outside of the walls. The last has a wonderful minaret
built of small-roofed pavilions one over another; both of them affect
the Chinese architecture in their roofs, and their walls are faced
with diamond-shaped tiles. The Buddhist temple has hardly been rebuilt
since the city has returned to Chinese rule. The supply of meats and
vegetables is constant, and the variety and quality exceed that of most
other towns in the region. The population is gradually increasing with
the return of peace and trade, but is still under twenty thousand, of
which not one-fifth are Chinese and Manchus: the Taranchis constitute
half of the whole, and Dunganis are the next in number. The province is
the richest and best cultivated of all this region of Ílí; its coal,
metals, and fruits are sources of prosperity, and with its return to
Chinese sway under new relations in respect to Russian trade, its
future is promising.
The destruction of life was dreadful at the capture of Kuldja and other
towns, which were then left a heap of ruins.[119] Schuyler estimates
that not more than a hundred thousand people remained in the province,
out of a third of a million in 1860. It is stated in Chinese works that
when Amursana, the discontented chief of the Songares, applied, in
1775, to Kienlung for assistance against his rival Tawats or Davatsi,
and was sent back with a Chinese army, in the engagements which ensued,
more than a million of people were destroyed, and the whole country
depopulated. At that time, Kuldja was built by Kienlung, and soon
became a place of note. Outside of the town are the barracks for the
troops, which consist of Eleuths and Mohammedans, as well as Manchus
and Chinese. Coal is found in this region, and most of the inland
rivers produce abundance of fish, while wild animals and birds are
numerous. The resources of the country are, however, insufficient to
meet the expenses of the military establishment, and the presents made
to the begs, and the deficit is supplied from China.[120]
Subordinate to the control of the commandant at Kuldja are nine
garrisoned places situated in the same valley, at each of which are
bodies of Chinese convicts. The two remaining districts of Tarbagatai
and Kur-kara usu are small compared with Ílí; the first lies between
Cobdo and the Kirghís steppe, and is inhabited mostly by emigrants from
the steppes of the latter, who render merely a nominal subjection to
the garrisons placed over them, but are easily governed through their
tribal rulers. The Tourgouths, who emigrated from Russia in 1772,
into China, are located in this district and Cobdo, as well as in the
valleys of the Tekes and Kunges rivers. They have become more or less
assimilated with other tribes since they were placed here. In the war
with the Songares, many of the people fled from the valley of Ílí to
this region, and after that country was settled, they submitted to the
Emperor, and partly returned to Ílí. The chief town, called Tuguchuk
by the Kirghís, and Suitsing ching by the Chinese, is situated not
far from the southern base of the Tarbagatai Mountains, and contains
about six hundred houses, half of which belong to the garrison. It is
one of the nine fortified towns under the control of the commandant
at Kuldja, and a place of some trade with the Kirghís. There are
two residents stationed here, with high powers to oversee the trade
across the frontier, but their duties are inferior in importance
to those of the officials at Urga. 2,500 Manchu and Chinese troops
remain at this post, and since the conquest of the country in 1772 by
Kienlung, its agricultural products have gradually increased under the
industry of the Chinese. The tribes dwelling in this distant province
are restricted within certain limits, and their obedience secured
by presents. The climate of Tarbagatai is changeable, and the cold
weather comprises more than half the year. The basin of Lake Ala-kul,
or Alaktu-kul, occupies the southwest, and part of the Irtysh and Lake
Dzaisang the northeast, so that it is well watered. The trade consists
chiefly of domestic animals and cloths.
The town of Kur-kara usu lies on the River Kur, northeast from Kuldja
and on the road between it and Urumtsi; it is called Kingsui ching by
the Chinese. The number of troops stationed at all these posts is
estimated at sixty thousand, and the total population of Songaria under
two millions.
~POSITION OF TIEN-SHAN NAN LU.~
The TIEN-SHAN NAN LU, or Southern Circuit of Ílí, the territory of
‘the eight Mohammedan cities,’ was named _Sin Kiang_ (‘New Frontier’)
by Kienlung. It is less fertile than the Northern Circuit, the
greatest part of its area consisting of rugged mountains or barren
wastes, barely affording subsistence for herds of cattle and goats.
The principal boundaries are the Kwănlun Mountains, and the desert,
separating it from Tibet on the south; Cashmere lies on the southwest,
and Badakshan and Kokand are separated from it on the west and
northwest by the Belur-tag, all of them defined and partitioned by
the mountain ranges over which the passes 12,000 to 16,000 feet high
furnish both defence and travel according to the season.
~THE RIVER TARIM AND LOB-NOR.~
The greater part of this Circuit is occupied with the basin of the
Tarim or Ergu, which flows from the Belur range in four principal
branches[121] (called from the towns lying upon their banks the
Yarkand, Kashgar, Aksu, and Khoten Rivers), and running eastward,
receives several affluents from the north and south, and falls into
Lake Lob in long. 89° E., after a course, including windings, of
between 1,100 and 1,300 miles. Of the river system from which this
stream flows Baron Richthofen says, “the region which gives birth to
this river is on a scale of grandeur such as no other river in the
world can boast. It is girt round by a wide semicircular collar of
mountains of the loftiest and grandest character, often rising in
ridges of 18,000 to 20,000 feet in height, while the peaks shoot up to
25,000 and even 28,000 feet. The basin which fills in the horse-shoe
shaped space encompassed by these gigantic elevations, though deeply
depressed below them, stands at a height above the sea varying from
6,000 feet at the margin to about 2,000 in the middle, and formed the
bed of an ancient sea. From its wall-like sides on the south, west,
and north, the waters rush headlong down, and though the winds blowing
from all directions deposit most of their moisture on the remoter sides
of the surrounding ranges, viz., the southern foot of the Himalayas,
the west side of the Pamir, and the northern slope of the Tien shan,
the streams formed thereby winding through the cloud-capped lofty
cradle-land, and breaking through the mountain chains, reach the old
ocean bed only partly well watered. The smallest of them disappear
in the sand, others flow some distance before expanding into a level
salt basin and are there absorbed. Only the largest, whose number the
Chinese estimate at sixty, unite with the Tarim, a river 1,150 miles
long, and therefore in length between the Rhine and Danube, but far
surpassing both in the massiveness of surrounding mountains, just as
it exceeds the Danube in the extent of its basin. Its tributaries form
along the foot of the mountains a number of fruitful oases, and these
by means of artificial irrigation have been converted into flourishing,
cultivated states, and have played an important part in the history of
these regions.”[122] Col. Prejevalsky’s explorations in this totally
unknown country have brought out a multitude of facts pregnant with
interest both for historical and geographical study. Among the most
important results of his discoveries is the location of Lob more than a
degree to the south of its position on Chinese maps, and a consequent
bend of the Tarim from its due eastern course before it reaches its
outlet. This lake, consisting of two sheets of water, the Kara-buran
and Kara-kurchin (or Chon-kul), lies on the edge of the desert, in
an uninhabited region, and surrounded by great swamps, which extend
also northwest along the Tarim to its junction with the Kaidu. It is
shallow, overgrown with weeds, and is for the most part a morass,
the water being fresh, despite the salt marshes in the vicinity. The
people living near it speak a language most like that of Khoten; they
are Moslems. Lake Lob is elliptical, 90 to 100 versts long and 20
wide, 2,200 feet above the sea. Enormous flocks of birds come from
Khoten on the south-west, as they go north, and make Lob-nor their
stopping-place. The desert in this region is poor and desolate in the
extreme. Its southern side is formed by the Altyn-tag range, a spur of
the Kwănlun Mountains that rises about 14,000 feet in a sheer wall.
Wild camels are found in its ravines, whose sight, hearing, and smell
are marvellously acute. No other river basins of any size are found
within the Circuit, except a large tributary called the Kaidu, which,
draining a parallel valley north of Lob-nor, two hundred miles long,
runs into a lake nearly as large, called Bostang-nor, from which an
outlet on the south continues it into the Tarim, about eighty miles
from its mouth. The tributaries of this river are represented as much
more serviceable for agricultural purposes than the main trunk is
for navigation. The plain through which the Tarim flows is about two
hundred miles broad and not far from nine hundred miles long, most of
it unfit for cultivation or pasturage. The desert extends considerably
west of the two lakes. The climate of this region is exceedingly dry,
and its barrenness is owing, apparently, more to the want of moisture
than to the nature of the soil. The western parts are colder than those
toward Kansuh, the river being passable on ice at Yarkand, in lat. 38°,
for three months, while frost is hardly known at Hami, in lat. 43°.
The productions of the valley of the Tarim comprise most of the grains
and fruits found in Southern Europe; the sesamum is cultivated for
oil instead of the olive. Few trees or shrubs cover the mountain
acclivities or plains. All the domestic animals abound, except the
hog, which is reared in small numbers by the Chinese. The camel and
yak are hunted and raised for food and service, their coats affording
both skins and hair for garments. The horse, camel, black cattle, ass,
and sheep, are found wild on the edge of the desert, where they find
a precarious subsistence. The mountains and marshes contain jackals,
tigers, bears, wolves, lynxes, and deer, together with some large
species of birds of prey. Gold, copper, and iron are brought from this
region, but the amount is not large, and as articles of trade they
are less important than the sal-ammoniac, saltpetre, sulphur, and
asbestos obtained from the volcanic region in the east of the Celestial
Mountains. The best specimens of the _yuh_ or nephrite, so highly
prized by the Chinese, are obtained in the Southern Circuit.
~TOWNS OF THE SOUTHERN CIRCUIT.~
The present divisions of this Circuit are regulated by the position
of the eight Mohammedan cities. The western departments of Kansuh
naturally belong to the same region, and the cities now pertaining to
that province are inhabited by entirely similar races, and governed
in the same feudal manner, with some advantages in consideration of
their early submission to Kienlung. The first town on the road, of
note, is Hami; Turfan and Pidshan are less important as trading posts
than as garrisons. The eight cities are named in the _Statistics of
the Empire_ in the following order, beginning at the east: Harashar,
Kuché, Ushí (including Sairim and Bai), Aksu, Khoten, Yarkand, Kashgar,
and Yingkeshar or Yangi Hissar. The superior officers live at Yarkand,
but the Southern Circuit is divided into four minor governments at
Harashar, Ushí, Yarkand, and Khoten, each of whose residents reports
both to Kuldja and Peking. There is constant restiveness on the part
of the subject races, who are all Moslems, arising from their clannish
habits and feuds; they have not the elements of substantial progress
and national growth, either under their own rulers or Chinese. They
have lately thrown off the Peking Government, but they have generally
regretted the rapines and waste caused by the strifes and change, and
would probably receive the _Kitai_ (so they term the Chinese) back
again. The latter are not hard masters, and bring trade and wealth the
longer they remain. One of the Usbek chiefs under Yakub khan gave the
pith of the situation between the two, when he replied to Dr. Bellew’s
remark that he talked like a Chinese himself, “No, I hate them. But
they were not bad rulers. We had everything then; we have nothing now.
We never see any signs of the Kitai trade, nor of the wealth they
brought here.”
Harashar (or Karashar) lies on the Kaidu River, not far from Lake
Bagarash or Bostang, about two hundred and ninety miles west of Turfan,
in lat. 42° 15′ N., and long. 87° E. It is a large district, and has
two towns of some note within the jurisdiction of its officers--namely,
Korla and Bukur. Harashar is fortified, and from its being a secure
position, and the seat of the chief resident, attracts considerable
trade. The embroidery is superior; but the tribes living in the
district are more addicted to hunting than disposed to sedentary
trades. Korla lies southwest of Harashar on the Kaidu, between lakes
Bostang and Lob, and the productions of the town and its vicinity
indicate a fertile soil; the Chinese say the Mohammedans who live
here are fond of singing, but have no ideas of ceremony or urbanity.
Bukur lies two hundred miles west of Korla and “might be a rich and
delicious country,” says the Chinese account, “but those idle, vagrant
Mohammedans only use their strength in theft and plunder; the women
blush at nothing.” The town formerly contained upward of ten thousand
inhabitants, but Kienlung nearly destroyed it; the district has been
since resettled by Hoshoits, Tourbeths, and Turks, and the people carry
on some trade in the produce of their herds, skins, copper, and agates.
Kuché, about eighty miles west from Bukur, lat. 41° 37′ N., and long.
83° 20′ E., is a larger and more important city than that of Harashar,
for the road which crosses the Tien shan by the pass Muz-daban to Ílí,
here joins that coming from Aksu on the west and Hami on the east.
It is three miles in circuit, and is defended by ten forts and three
hundred troops. The bazaars contain grain, fruits, and vegetables,
raised in the vicinity by great labor, for the land requires to be
irrigated by hand from wells, pools, and streams. Copper, sulphur, and
saltpetre are carried across to Ílí, for use of government as well as
traffic, being partly levied from the inhabitants as taxes; linen is
manufactured in the town, and sal ammoniac, cinnabar, and quicksilver
are procured from the mountains. Kuché is considered the gate of
Turkestan, and is the chief town, politically speaking, between Hami
and Yarkand. The district and town of Shayar lie south of Kuché, in a
marshy valley producing abundance of rice, melons, and fruit; the pears
are particularly good. Two small lakes, Baba-kul and Sary-kamysch, lie
to the east of this town, and are the only bodies of water between
Bostang-nor and Issik-kul. The population is about four thousand, ruled
by _begs_ subordinate to the general at Kuché.
The valley of the Aksu contains two large towns, Aksu and Ushí or
Ush-turfan, besides several posts and villages. Between the former
and Kuché, lie the small garrisons and districts of Bai and Sairim.
The first contains from four to five hundred families, ruled by
their own chiefs. Sairim or Hanlemuh is subordinate to Ushí in some
degree, but its productions, climate, and inhabitants are like those
of Kuché. “Their manners are simple,” remarks a Chinese writer,
speaking of the people; “they are neither cowards nor rogues like the
other Mohammedans; they are fond of singing, drinking, and dancing,
like those of Kuché.” Aksu is a large commercial and manufacturing
town, containing twenty thousand inhabitants, situated, like Kuché,
at the termination of a road leading across the Tien shan to Ílí, and
attracting to its market traders from Siberia, Bokhara, and Kokand,
as well as along the great road. Its manufactures of cotton, silk,
leather, harnesses, crockery, precious stones, and metals are good,
and sent abroad in great numbers. The country produces grain, fruits,
vegetables, and cattle in perfection, and the people are more civilized
than those on the east and north; “they are generous and noble, and
both sing and ridicule the oddities and niggardliness of the other
Mohammedans.” The Chinese garrison consists of three thousand soldiers,
and the officers are accountable to those at Ushí.
Ushí lies about 70 miles due west of Aksu, in lat. 41° 15′ N. and
long. 79° 40′ E., and is stated to contain ten thousand inhabitants.
The Chinese name is Yung-ning ching (_i.e._ ‘City of Eternal
Tranquillity’). The officers stationed here report to the commandant
at Ílí, but they communicate directly with Peking, and receive the
Emperor’s sanction to their choice of begs, and to the envoys forwarded
to the capital with tribute. Copper money is cast here in ingots,
somewhat like the ingots of sycee in the provinces. There are six forts
attached to Ushí, to keep in order the wandering tribes of the Kirghís,
called Pruth Kirghís,[123] which roam over the frontier regions between
Ushí and Yarkand. They pay homage to the officers at Ushí, but give no
tribute. Those who do pay tribute are taxed a tenth, but the Kirghís
on this frontier are usually allowed to roam where they like, provided
they keep the peace. This region was nearly depopulated by Kienlung’s
generals, and at present supports a sparse population compared with
its fertility and resources.
~THE GOVERNMENT AND TOWN OF KASHGAR.~
The government of Kashgar, known, at the time of the Arab conquest, as
_Kichik Bukhara_, presents a vast, undulating plain, of which the slope
is very gradual toward the east, and of which the general elevation
may be reckoned at from three to four thousand feet above the sea.
The aspect of its surface is mostly one of unmitigated waste--a vast
spread of bare sand and gloomy salts, traversed in all directions by
dunes and banks of gravel, with the scantiest vegetation, and all
but absence of animal life. Such is the view that meets the eye and
joins the horizon everywhere on the plain immediately beyond the river
courses and the settlements planted on their banks.[124] The population
of this whole district is considerably less than a million and a half.
The natural mineral productions here are of great value, and it is a
knowledge of this fact which has induced the Chinese to persevere in
retaining so expensive and turbulent a frontier province. The gold and
jade of Khoten, silver and lead of Cosharab, and copper of Khalistan,
have given abundant employment to Chinese settlers; while coal, iron,
sulphur, alum, sal ammoniac, and zinc, though worked in unimportant
quantities before the insurrection of Yakub khan (Atalik Ghazi),
furnished the inhabitants with supplies for domestic use. An important
hinderance to building villages in many sections of this territory
is the prevalence of sand dunes here. Solitary houses and even whole
settlements lying in the path of these moving hills are suddenly
overwhelmed and oftentimes totally effaced.
The town of Kashgar is situated at the northwestern angle of the
Southern Circuit, on the Kashgar River, a branch of the Tarim, in lat.
39° 25′ N., and long. 76° 5′ E., at the extreme west of the Empire.
Several roads meet here. Going in a northwest direction, one leads over
the Tien shan to Kokand; a second passes south, through Yarkand and
Khoten, to Leh and Cashmere; a third, the great caravan route, from
China through Ushí, may be said to end here; and the fourth and most
frequented, leads off northwest over the Tien shan through the Rowat
Pass, and along the western banks of Lake Issik-kul to Ílí. Kashgar
was the capital of the Ouigours for a long time, and its ruler forced
his people, as far east as Hami, to accept Islamism about the year
1000. They then came under Genghis’ sway, and this city increased its
importance, but when Abubahr Miza took Yarkand, he razed Kashgar to
the ground. Under Chinese rule it became one of the richest marts in
Central Asia, and its future importance is secured by its position. The
city is enclosed with high and massive walls, supported by buttress
bastions, and protected by a deep ditch on three sides, the river
flowing under the fourth. There are but two gates; the area within is
about fifty acres. Around it are populous suburbs.
In the middle of the town is a large square, and four bazaars branch
from it through to the gates; the garrison is placed without the walls.
The manufactures of Kashgar excel those of any other town in the two
Circuits, especially in jade, gold, silk, cotton, gold and silver
cloths, and carpets. The country around produces fruit and grain in
abundance; “the manners of the people have an appearance of elegance
and politeness,” says the Chinese geographer; “the women dance and
sing in family parties; they fear and respect the officers, and have
not the wild, uncultivated aspect of those in Ushí.” This judgment
is in a measure confirmed by Bellew, who credits the people with
being singularly free from prejudice against the foreigners, quite
indifferent on any score of his nationality or religion, and content so
long as he pays his way and does not offend the customs of the natives.
Several towns are subordinate to Kashgar, because of its oversight
of their rulers, and consumption of their products. Southwest lies
Tash-balig, and on the road leading to Yarkand is Yangi Hissar, both of
them towns of some importance; the whole distance from Kashgar presents
a succession of sandy or saline tracts, alternating with fertile
bottoms wherever water runs. Small villages and post houses serve to
connect the larger towns, but the soil does not reward the cultivators
with much produce.
~THE CITY OF YARKAND.~
Yarkand, or Yerkiang, is the political capital of the Southern Circuit,
as the highest military officers and strongest force are stationed
here. It is situated on the Yarkand River, in lat. 36° 30′ N., and
long. 77° 15′ E., in the midst of a sand-girt oasis of great fertility.
The environs are abundantly supplied with water by canals. The stone
walls are three miles in circumference, but its suburbs are much
larger; the houses are built of dried bricks, and the town has a more
substantial appearance than others in Ílí. There are many mosques and
colleges, which, with the public buildings occupied by the government
and troops, add to its consideration. Yarkand is one of the ancient
cities of Tartary, and was, in remote times, a royal residence of Turk
princes of the Afrasyab dynasty. In modern times it owes its rank as
a well-built city chiefly to Abubahr Miza, whose short-lived sway
from Aksu to Wakhan left its chief results in the mosques and bazaars
erected or enlarged by him. By means of quarrying jade in the Karakash
valley, and working the bangles, ear-rings and other articles in the
city, thousands of families found employment under Chinese rule.
With the overthrow of that sway and then of Yakub khan in its
restoration, all this industry disappeared. In the destruction ensuing
on these long struggles for supremacy, one learns the explanation of
the barbarism which has succeeded the downfall of mighty empires all
over Western Asia. The city has no important manufactures; it enjoys
a local reputation for its leather, and boots and shoes made here are
esteemed all over the province. Among other articles of trade are
horses, silk, and wool, and fabrics made from them; but everything
found at Kashgar is sold also at this market. In a Chinese notice
of the city, the customs at Yarkand are stated to have yielded over
$45,000 annually; the taxes are 35,400 sacks of grain, 57,569 pieces of
linen, 15,000 lbs. of copper, besides gold, silk, varnish, and hemp,
part of which are carried to Ílí. Jade is obtained from the river in
large pieces, yellow, white, black, and reddish, and the articles made
from it are carried to China. The Chinese authorities have no objection
to the resorting thither of natives of Kokand, Badakshan, and other
neighboring states, many of whom settle and marry.
Khoten is situated on the southern side of the desert, and the district
embraces all the country south of Aksu and Yarkand, along the northern
base of the Kwănlun Mountains, for more than three hundred miles from
east to west. The capital is called Ílchí on Chinese maps, and lies in
an extensive plain on the Khoten River in lat. 37° N., and long. 80°
E. The town of Karakash (meaning ‘Black Jade’)[125] lies in lat. 37°
10′, long. 80° 13′ 30″, a few miles northwest in the same valley, and
is said by traders to be the capital rather than Ílchí; it is located
on the road to Yarkand, distant twelve days’ journey. On this road the
town of Gummí is also placed, whose chief had in his possession a stone
supposed to have the power of causing rain. Kirrea lies five days’
journey east of Ílchí, near the pass across the mountains into Tibet
and Ladak; a gold mine is worked near this place, the produce of which
is monopolized by the Chinese. The three towns of Karakash, Ílchí, and
Kirrea, are the only places of importance between the valley of the
Tarim and Tibet, but none of them have been visited for a long time by
Europeans.[126] The population of the town or district is unknown; one
notice[127] gives it a very large number, approaching three millions
and even more, which at any rate indicates a more fertile soil and
genial climate than the regions north and south of it. Dr. Morrison,
in his _View of China_, puts it at 44,630 inhabitants; and although
the former includes the whole district, and is probably too large, the
second seems to be much too small.
~KHOTEN DISTRICT.~
Khoten is known, in Chinese books, by the names of _Yu-tien_,
_Hwan-na_, _Kieu-tan_, and _Kiu-sa-tan-na_--the last meaning, in
Sanscrit, “Breast of the Earth.”[128] Its eastern part is marshy, but
that the country must have a considerable elevation is manifest from
the fact that the river which drains and connects it with the Tarim
runs quite across the desert in its course. The country is governed
by two high officers and a detachment of troops; there are six towns
under their jurisdiction, the inhabitants of which are ruled in the
same manner as the other Mohammedan cities. The people, however, are
said to be mostly of the Buddhist faith, and the Chinese give a good
account of their peacefulness and industry. The trade with Leh and
H’lassa is carried on by a road crossing the Kwănlun over the Kirrea
Pass, beyond which it divides. The productions of Khoten are fine linen
and cotton stuffs, jade ornaments, amber, copper, grain, fruits, and
vegetables; the former for exportation, the latter for use. It was in
this region that Col. Prejevalsky discovered (in 1879) a new variety of
wild horse, a specimen of which has been stuffed and exhibited in St.
Petersburg. The animal in question, though belonging undoubtedly to the
genus _Equus_, presents, in many respects, an intermediate form between
the domestic horse and the wild ass.
Rémusat published, in 1820, an account of this country, drawn from
Chinese books, in which the principal events in its history are stated,
commencing with the Han dynasty, before the Christian era, down to
the Manchu conquest. In the early part of its history, Khoten was the
resort of many priests from India, and the Buddhist faith was early
established there. It was an independent kingdom most of the time,
from its earliest mention to the era of Genghis khan, the princes
sometimes extending their sway from the Kiayü pass and Koko-nor to
the Tsung ling, and then being obliged to contract to the valley now
designated as Khoten. After the expulsion of the Mongols from China,
Khoten asserted its independence, but afterward fell under the sway of
the Songares and Eleuths, and lost many of its inhabitants. The Manchus
conquered it in 1770, when the rest of the region between the Tien shan
and Kwănlun fell under their sway, but neither have they settled in it
to the same extent, nor made thereof a penal settlement, as in other
parts of Ílí.[129]
~GOVERNMENT OF ÍLÍ.~
The government of Ílí differs in some respects from that of Mongolia,
where religion is partly called in to aid the state. In the Northern
Circuit, the authority is strictly military, exercised by means of
residents and generals, with bodies of troops under their control.
The supreme command of all Ílí is intrusted by the colonial office
to a Manchu _tsiangkiun_, or military governor-general at Kuldja,
who has under him two councillors to take cognizance of civil cases,
and thirty-four residents scattered about in both Circuits. This
governor has also the control of the troops stationed in the three
western departments of Kansuh, but has nothing to do with the civil
jurisdiction of those towns. The entire number of soldiers under
his hand is stated at 60,000, most of whom have families, and add
agricultural, mechanical, or other labors to the profession of arms.
The councillors are not altogether subordinate to the general, but
report to the Colonial Office.
In the Northern Circuit, there is a deputy appointed for every village
and town, invested with military powers over the troops and convicts,
and civil supervision over the native _píko_ or chieftains, who are the
real rulers acknowledged by the clans. The character of the inhabitants
north of the Tien shan is rendered unlike that of those dwelling in
the Southern Circuit, not more by the diversity in their language and
nomadic habits, than by the sway religious rites and allegiance have
over them. Through this latter motive, the government of Mongolia and
the Northern Circuit is rendered far easier and more effectual for the
distant court of Peking than it otherwise would be. The appointment of
the native chieftains is first announced to the general at Kuldja and
the Colonial Office, and they succeed to their post when confirmed,
which, as the station is in a measure hereditary, usually follows in
course.
The inhabitants of the Southern Circuit are Mohammedans and acknowledge
a less willing subjection to the Emperor than those in the Northern,
the differences in race, religion, and language being probably the
leading reasons. The government of the whole region is divided among
the Manchu residents or _ambans_ at the eight cities, who are nominally
responsible to the general at Ílí, and independent of each other, but
there is a gradation in rank and power, the one at Yarkand having the
priority. The begs are chosen by the tribes themselves, and exercise
authority in all petty cases arising among the people, without the
interference of the Chinese. The troops are all Manchu or Chinese, none
of the Turks being enrolled in separate bodies, though individuals are
employed with safety. There is considerable difference in the rank and
influence of the begs, which is upheld and respected by the _ambans_.
The allowances and style granted them are regulated in a measure
by their feudal importance. The revenue is derived from a monthly
capitation tax on each man of about half a dollar, and tithes on the
produce; there are no transit duties as in China, but custom-houses
are established at the frontier trading towns. The language generally
used in the Southern Circuit is the Jaghatai Turki of the Kalmucks; the
Usbecks constitute the majority of the people, but Eleuths and Kalmucks
are everywhere intermixed. The Tibetans have settled in Khoten, or more
probably, remnants still exist there of the former inhabitants.
~HISTORY AND CONQUEST OF ÍLÍ.~
The history of the vast region constituting the present government
of Ílí early attracted the attention of oriental scholars, and few
portions of the world have had a more exciting history. After the
expulsion of the Mongols from China by Hungwu, A.D. 1366, they found
that they, as a tribe, were inferior in power to the western tribes,
but it was not till about 1680 that the Eleuths, north of the Tien
shan under the Galdan,[130] began to attack the Kalkas, and drive them
eastward. The Sunnites, Tsakhars, and Solons, portions of the Eastern
Mongols, had already joined the Manchus; and the Kalkas, to avoid
extermination, submitted to them also, and besought their assistance
against the Eleuths. Kanghí received their allegiance, and tried to
settle the difficulties peaceably, but was obliged to send his troops
against the Galdan, and drive him from the territory of the Kalkas to
the westward of Lob-nor and Barkul. The Emperor was materially aided
in this enterprise by the secession from the Eleuths of the Songares,
whose khan had taken offence, and drawn his hordes off to the south.
The khans of the Kalkas and their vast territory thus became subject
to the Chinese. The Galdan lost all his forces, and expired by poison,
in 1697, his power dying with him, and his tribe having already become
too weak to resist.
Upon the ruins of his power arose that of Arabdan, the khan of the
Songares. He subjugated the Northern Circuit, passed over into
Turkestan, Tangout, and Khoten, and gradually reduced to his sway
nearly all the elevated region of Central Asia west of Kansuh. He
expelled the Tourgouths from their possessions in Cobdo, and compelled
them to retreat to the banks of the Volga. Kanghí expelled the
Songares from the districts about Koko-nor, but made no impression
upon their authority in Songaria. After the death of Arabdan, about
1720, his throne was disputed, and the power weakened by dissensions
among his sons, so that it was seized by two usurpers, Amursana and
Tawats, who also fell out after their object was gained. Amursana
repaired to Peking for assistance, and with the aid of a Chinese army
expelled Tawats, and took possession of the throne of Arabdan. But he
had no intention of becoming a vassal to Kienlung, and was no sooner
reinstated than he resisted him; he defeated two Chinese armies sent
against him, but succumbed on the third attack, and fled to Tobolsk,
where he died in 1757.
The territory of Arabdan then fell to Kienlung, and he pursued his
successes with such cruelty that the Northern Circuit was nearly
depopulated, and the Songares and Eleuths became almost extinct as
distinct tribes. The banished tribe of Tourgouths was then invited by
the Emperor to return from Russian sway to their ancient possessions,
which they accepted in 1772; the history of the Chinese embassy to
them, and their disastrous journey back to Cobdo over the Kirghís
steppe and through the midst of their enemies, is one of the most
remarkable instances of nomadic wanderings and unexampled suffering
in modern times.[131] Chinese troops, emigrants, exiles, and nomadic
tribes and families, were sent and encouraged to come into the vacant
territory, so that erelong it began to resume its former importance.
In the period which has since elapsed, the Manchus have been enabled
to prevent any combination among the clans, and maintain their own
authority by a mixed system of coercion and coaxing which they well
know how to practise. The agricultural and mineral resources of the
country have been developed, many of the nomads induced to attend
to agriculture by making their chieftains emulous of each other’s
prosperity, and by exciting a spirit of traffic among all.
There have been some disturbances from time to time, but no master
spirit has arisen who has been able to unite the tribes against the
Chinese. In 1825, there was an attempt made from Kokand by Jehangír,
grandson of the _kojeh_ or prince of Kashgar, to regain possession of
Turkestan; the khan of Kokand assisted him with a small army, and such
was their dislike of the Chinese, that as soon as Jehangír appeared,
the Mohammedans arose and drove the Chinese troops away or put them to
death, opening the gates to the invader. He took possession of Yarkand
and Kashgar, and advanced to Aksu, where the winter put a stop to the
campaign. In the next year, the khan of Kokand, seeing the disposition
of the people, thought he would embark himself in the same cause, and
made an incursion as far as Aksu and Khoten, reducing more than half
the Southern Circuit to himself, but ostensibly in aid of Jehangír.
The kojeh, beginning to fear his aid, withdrew; and the khan, having
suffered some reverses from the Chinese troops, made his peace on very
favorable terms, and returned to his own country. Jehangír went to
Khoten from Yarkand, but his conduct there displeasing the people, the
Chinese troops, about 60,000 in number, had no difficulty in dispersing
his force, and resuming their sway. The adherents of the kojeh fled
toward Badakshan, while he himself repaired to Isaac, the newly
appointed kojeh of Kashgar, by whom he was delivered up to the Chinese
with his family, and all of them most barbarously destroyed.
The kojeh was rewarded with the office of prince of Kashgar, but having
been accused of treasonable designs he was ordered to come to Peking
for trial; the charges were all disproved, and he returned to Kashgar
after several years’ residence at the capital of the Empire. The
country was gradually reduced by Changling, the general at Ílí, but
Kashgar suffered so much by the war and removal of the chief authority
to Yarkand, that it has not since regained its importance. During this
war, the dislike of the Mohammedans to the Chinese sway was exhibited
in the large forces Jehangír brought into the field; and if he had been
a popular spirited leader, there is reason for supposing he might have
finally wrested these cities from the Chinese. The joy of Taukwang
at the successful termination of the expedition and capture of the
rebel, was so extravagant as to appear childish; and when Jehangír was
executed at Peking, he ordered the sons of two officers who had been
reported killed, “to witness his execution, in order to give expansion
to the indignation which had accumulated in their breasts; and let
the rebel’s heart be torn out and given to them to sacrifice it at
the tombs of their fathers, and thus console their faithful spirits.”
Honors were heaped upon Changling at his return to Peking, and rewards
and titles showered upon all the troops engaged in the war.
Since this insurrection, the frontiers of Kashgar and Kokand have been
passed and repassed by the Pruth Kirghís; in 1830, they excited so
much trouble because their trade was restricted, that a large force
was called out to restrain them, and many lives were lost before the
rising was subdued. The causes of the dispute were then examined, and
the trade allowed to go on as before. The oppressions of the residents
sometimes goad on the Mohammedans to rise against the Chinese, but
the policy of the Emperor is conciliatory, and the complaints of
the people are in general listened to. The visits of the begs and
princes to Peking with tribute affords them an opportunity to state
their grievances, while it also prevents them from caballing among
themselves. In 1871 the Russians took possession of nearly the whole
of Tien-Shan Peh Lu during an insurrection of the Dunganis against
Chinese control. The Tarantchis having attacked a Russian outpost,
and Yakub Beg being on suspiciously good terms with the rebels, it
was determined to occupy Kuldja--which was effected after a campaign
of less than a month, led by Gen. Kolpakofsky. The Chinese government
was immediately informed that the place should be restored whenever
a sufficient force could be brought there to hold it against attacks,
and preserve order. After the final conquest of the Dungan tribes in
1879-80, this territory was returned by the Russians upon conclusion
of their last treaty with China, exactly ten years from the date of
possession. The old manner of government is now resumed and the country
slowly recovering from the frightful devastation of the insurrection.
The salaries of the governor-general and his councillors, and the
residents, are small, and they are all obliged to resort to illegal
means to reimburse their outlays. The highest officer receives about
$5,200 annually, and his councillors about $2,000; the residents from
$2,300 down to $500 and less. These sums do not, probably, constitute
one-tenth of the receipts of their situations.[132]
~BOUNDARIES OF TIBET.~
The third great division of the colonial part of the Chinese empire,
that of TIBET, is less known than Ílí, though its area is hardly less
extensive. It constitutes the most southern of the three great table
lands of Central Asia, and is surrounded with high mountains which
separate it from all the contiguous regions. The word Tibet or Tubet
is unknown among the inhabitants as the name of their country; it is
a corruption by the Mongols of _Tu po_,[133] the country of the Tu, a
race which overran it in the sixth century; Turner gives another name,
_Pue-koa-chim_, signifying the ‘snowy country of the north,’ doubtless
a local or ancient term. The general appellation by the people is
_Pot_ or _Bod_, or _Bod yul_--“the land of Bod.”[134] It is roughly
bounded northeast by Koko-nor; east by Sz’chuen and Yunnan; south by
Assam, Butan, Nípal, and Gurhwal; west by Cashmere; and north by the
unknown ranges of the Kwănlun Mountains. The southern frontier curves
considerably in its course, but is not less than 1,500 miles from the
western extremity of Nípal to the province of Yunnan; the northern
border is about 1,300 miles; the western frontiers cannot be accurately
defined, and depend more upon the possession of the passes through
which trade is carried on than any political separation. Beltistan,
Little Tibet, and Ladak, although included in its limits on Chinese
maps, have too little subjection or connection with the court of
Peking, to be reckoned among its dependencies.
~NATURAL FEATURES OF TIBET.~
Tibet, in its largest limits, is a table land, the highest plains of
which have a mean elevation of 11,510 feet, or about 1,300 feet lower
than the plateau of Bolivia, near Lake Titicaca. The snow-line on the
north side of the Himalaya is at an altitude of 16,630 feet; on the
southern slope it is at 12,982 feet. Several striking analogies may be
traced between this country and Peru: the tripartite divisions caused
by lofty ranges; their common staples of wool, from alpacas and vicunas
in one, and sheep and goats in the other; the abundance of precious
metals, and many specific customs. The entire province of Tibet is
divided by mountain chains into three distinct parts; its western
portion consists of the basin of the Indus, until it breaks through
into Cashmere at Makpon-i-Shagaron. It begins near Mount Kailasa, and
stretches northwest between the Hindu Kush and Himalaya, comprising
the whole of Beltistan and Ladak; the Kara-korum, Mus-tag, or Tsung
ling range defines it on the northeast. The second part consists of
an extensive desert land, commencing at Mount Kailasa, and having the
Tsung ling on the west, the Kwănlun on the north (which separates it
from Khoten, and the high watershed of the Yangtsz’, Salween, and other
rivers), and Lake Tengkiri, on the east; the Himalaya constitutes its
southern boundary. This high region, called Katshe or Kor-kache, has
not been traversed by intelligent travellers and is one of the few yet
unknown regions of the earth, and is nearly uninhabitable, owing to the
extreme rigor of its climate.[135]
The eastern part, consisting of the basin of the Yaru-tsangbu,
contains, in its plains, most of the towns in Tibet, until it reaches
the Alpine region which lies between the River Yaru and the Yangtsz’,
a space extending from long. 95° to 99° E. This district is described
as a succession of ridges and gorges, over which the road takes the
traveller on narrow and steep paths, crossing the valleys by ropes and
bridges enveloped in the clouds. Mount Kailasa, a notable peak lying in
the northeastern part of Nari, is not far from 26,000 feet high. The
number of summits covered with perpetual snow exceeds that of any other
part of the world of the same extent.
The road from Sz’chuen to H’lassa strikes the Yalung kiang, in the
district of Ta tsien lu, and then goes southwesterly to Batang on the
Yangtsz’ kiang; crossing the river it proceeds up the narrow valley a
short distance, and then crosses the mountains northwest to the Lantsan
kiang or River Meikon, by a series of pathways leading over the gorges,
till it reaches Tsiamdo; from this point the road turns gradually
southwest, following the valleys when practicable, till it ends at
H’lassa.
The largest river in Tibet is the Erechumbu, or Yaru-tsangbu; _tsangbu_
means river, and is often alone used for this whole name. It rises in
the Tamchuk range, at the Mariam-la pass in Nari, 60 miles east of
Lake Manasarowa, the source of the Sutlej; it flows a little south
of east for about seven hundred miles, through the whole of Southern
Tibet, between the first and second ranges of the Himalayas, as far
as long. 90° E. Its tributaries on the north are numerous, and among
them the Nauk-tsangbu and Dzangtsu are the largest. The volume of water
which flows through the mountains into Assam by this river, is equal
to that by the Indus into Scinde. The disputed question, whether the
Yaru-tsangbu joins the Brahmaputra or Irrawadi, has been settled by
presumptive evidence in favor of the former, but a distance of about
400 miles is still unexplored;[136] the fall in this part is about
11,000 feet, to where the river Dihong has been traced in Assam. This
makes the Brahmaputra the largest and longest river in Southern Asia;
its passage into Assam is near 95° E. longitude.
The eastern part of Tibet, beyond this meridian, is traversed by
numerous ranges of lofty mountains, having no separate names, the
direction of which is from west to east, and from northwest to
southeast. From these ranges, lateral branches run out in different
directions, containing deep valleys between them. In proportion as the
principal chains advance towards the southeast they converge towards
one another, and thus the valleys between them gradually become
narrower, until at last, on the frontiers of Yunnan and Burmah, they
are mere mountain passes, whose entire breadth does not much exceed a
hundred miles, having four streams flowing through them. In fact, Tibet
incloses the fountain heads of all the large rivers of Southern and
Eastern Asia. The names and courses of those in Eastern Tibet are known
only imperfectly from Chinese maps, but others have described them
after their entrance into the lowlands.
Tibet, especially the central part, is a country of lakes, in this
respect resembling Cobdo. The largest, Tengkiri-nor, situated in
the midst of stupendous mountains, about one hundred and ten miles
northwest of H’lassa, is over a hundred miles long and about thirty
wide. The region north of it contains many isolated lakes, most of
them salt. Two of the largest, the Bouka and Kara, are represented as
connected with the River Nu. Lake Khamba-la, Yamoruk or Yarbrokyu,
sometimes called Palti, from a town on its northern shore, is a large
lake south of H’lassa, remarkable for its ring shape, the centre being
filled by a large island, around which its waters flow in a channel
thirty miles or more in width. On the island is a nunnery, called
the Palace of the Holy Sow, said to be the finest in the country. In
Balti or Little Tibet are many sheets of water, the largest of which,
the Yik and Paha, are connected by a river flowing through a marshy
country. A long succession of lakes fill one of the basins in Katsche,
suggesting the former existence of another Aral Sea. The sacred lakes
of Manasarowa and Ravan-hrad (Mapam-dalai and Langga-nor, of the
Chinese) form the headwaters of the Sutlej.
~CLIMATE, FOOD AND PRODUCTIONS.~
The climate of Tibet is characterized by its purity and excessive
dryness. The valleys are hot, notwithstanding their proximity to
snow-capped mountains; from May to October the sky is clear in the
table-lands, and in the valleys the moisture and temperature are
favorable to vegetation, the harvest being gathered before the gales
and snows set in, after October. The effects of the air resemble or
are worse than those of the kamsín in Egypt. The trees wither, and
their leaves may be ground to powder between the fingers; planks and
beams break, and the inhabitants cover the timbers and wood-work of
their houses with coarse cotton, in order to preserve them against
the destructive saccidity. The timber neither rots nor is worm-eaten.
Mutton, exposed to the open air, becomes so dry that it may be
powdered like bread; when once dried it is preserved during years.
This flesh-bread is a common food in Tibet. The carcass of the animal,
divested of its skin and viscera, is placed where the frosty air will
have free access to it, until all the juices of the body dry up, and
the whole becomes one stiffened mass. No salt is used, nor does it ever
become tainted, and is eaten without any further dressing or cooking;
the natives eat it at all periods after it is frozen, and prefer the
fresh to that which has been kept some months. The food called _jamba_
is prepared by cooking brick tea during several hours, then adding
butter and salt, and stirring the mixture until it becomes a thick
broth. When eaten the stuff is served in wooden bowls, and a plentiful
supply of roasted barley-meal poured in, the whole being kneaded by the
hands and devoured in the shape of dough pellets.
[Illustration: Domesticated Yak.]
The productions of Tibet consist of domestic animals, cattle,
horses, pigs; some wild animals, such as the white-breasted argali,
orongo-antelope, ata-dzeren, wolf, and steppe-fox; and few plants or
forests, presenting a strong contrast with Nípal and Butan, where
vegetable life flourishes more luxuriantly. Sheep and goats are reared
in immense flocks, for beasts of burden over the passes, and for their
flesh, hair, and coats. Chiefest among the animals of this mountain
land is the yak.[137] The domesticated variety, or long-haired yak,
is the inseparable companion and most trusty servant not only of the
Tibetans, but of tribes in Cashmere, Ladak, Tangout, and Mongolia,
even as far north as Urga. It is a cross-breed, or mule from the yak
bull and native cow, which alone is hardy enough for these elevated
regions.[138] These creatures are of the same size as our cattle,
strong, sure-footed and possessed of extraordinary endurance; they
retain, however, something of their wild nature, even after long
domestication, and must be carefully treated, especially when being
loaded and unloaded. They thrive best in hilly countries, well watered
and covered with grass--the two last being indispensable. The hair is
black or black and white, seldom entirely white. One sort is without
horns, and when crossed with the cow bears sterile males, or females
which are fertile for one generation. As to the wild yak of Tibet, a
traveller says: “This handsome animal is of extraordinary size and
beauty, measuring, when grown, eleven feet in length, exclusive of its
bushy tail, which is three feet long; its height at the hump is six
feet; girth around the body eleven feet, and its weight ten or eleven
hundred weight. The head is adorned with ponderous horns, two feet nine
inches long, and one foot four inches in circumference at the root. The
body is covered with thick, black hair, which in the old males assumes
a chestnut color on the back and upper parts of the sides, and a deep
fringe of black hair hangs down from the flanks. The muzzle is partly
gray, and the younger males have marks of the same color on the upper
part of the body, whilst a narrow, silvery-gray stripe runs down the
centre of the back. The hair of young yaks is much softer than that
of older ones; they are also distinguishable by their smaller size,
and by handsomer horns, with the points turned up. The females are
much smaller than the males, and not nearly so striking in appearance;
their horns are shorter and lighter, the hump smaller, and the tail and
flanks not nearly as hairy.”[139] This animal is useful for its milk,
flesh, and wool, as well as for agricultural purposes and travel.
~ANIMALS OF TIBET.~
There is comparatively little agriculture. The variety of wild animals,
birds, and fishes, is very great; among them the musk deer, feline
animals, eagles, and wild sheep, are objects of the chase. The brute
creation are generally clothed with an abundance of fine hair or wool;
even the horses have a shaggier coat than is granted to bears in more
genial climes. The Tibetan mastiff is one of the largest and fiercest
of its race, almost untamable, and unknown out of its native country.
The musk deer is clothed with a thick covering of hair two or three
inches long, standing erect over the whole body; the animal resembles
a hog in size and form, having, however, slender legs. The Tibetan
goat affords the shawl wool, so highly prized for the manufacture of
garments.[140]
Fruits are common; small peaches, grapes, apples, and nuts, constitute
the limited variety. Barley is raised more than any other grain, the
principal part of agricultural labors being performed by the women.
Pulse and wheat are cultivated, but no rice west of H’lassa. Rhubarb,
asafœtida, ginger, madder, and safflower are collected or prepared,
but most of the medicines come from China and Butan. Turnips, rape,
garlic, onions, and melons are raised in small quantities. The mineral
productions are exceedingly rich. Gold occurs in mines and placer
diggings, and forms a constant article of export; lead, silver,
copper, and cinnabar are also dug out of the ground, but iron has not
been found to much extent. The great difficulty in the way of the
inhabitants availing themselves of their metallic wealth, apart from
their ignorance of the best modes of mining, is the want of fuel with
which to smelt the ore. Tincal, or crude borax, is gathered on the
borders of a small lake in the neighborhood of Tengkiri-nor, where also
any quantity of rock salt can be obtained. Precious stones are met
with, most of which find their way to China.
The present divisions of Tibet, by the Chinese, are _Tsien Tsang_, or
Anterior Tibet, and _Hau Tsang_, or Ulterior Tibet. Anterior Tibet
is also called U (Wei) and U-tsang, and includes the central part of
Bod-yur where H’lassa is; east of this lies Kham (Kăng) or Khamyul, and
northeast toward Koko-nor is Khamsok, _i.e._, Kham on the River Sok.
Near the bend of the Brahmaputra is the district of Kongbo, where rice
can be raised; going westward are Takpo, doUs and gTsang on the borders
of Nari, ending in a line nearly continuous with the eastern border of
Nípal. The Chinese books mention eight cantons in Anterior Tibet, five
of them lying east of H’lassa, added to which are thirty-nine feudal
townships in Khamsok called _tu-sz’_, all of them chiefly nominal
or at present antiquated. Csoma de Körös speaks of several small
principalities in Kham, and describes the inhabitants as differing from
the rest of the Tibetans in appearance and language; they assimilate
probably with the tribes on the Burman and Chinese frontiers. Nari
(A-li in Chinese) is divided into Mangyul, Khorsum, and Maryul. The
first of these districts lies nearly conterminous with Nípal, and
its area is probably about the same, but its cold, dry, and elevated
regions, support only a few shepherds; Khorsum and Maryul lie north
and northwest in a still more inhospitable clime; the latter adjoins
Ladak and Balti and is the reservoir of hundreds of lakes situated
from 12,000 to 15,000 feet above the sea. A ridge separates the valley
of the Indus from the Sutlej, crossed at the Bogola Pass, 19,220 feet
high, and then over the Gugtila Pass, 19,500 feet into Gartok. The
people throughout this elevated region are forced to live in tents,
wood being almost unknown for building.
~H’LASSA THE CAPITAL.~
H’lassa, the _gyalsa_ or capital of Tibet, is situated on the Kichu
River, about twelve leagues from its junction with the Yaru, in lat.
29° 39′ N., and long. 91° 05′ E.; the name signifies _God’s ground_,
and it is the largest town in this part of Asia. It is famous for
the convents near it, composing the ecclesiastical establishments of
the Dalai (or ‘Ocean’)-lama, whose residence is in the monastery of
Pobrang-marbu (_i.e._, ‘Red town’) on Mount Putala. The principal
building of this establishment is three hundred and sixty-seven feet
high, and it contains, as the Chinese expression is, “a myriad of
rooms.” This city is the head-quarters of Buddhism, and the hierarchy
of lamas, who, by means of the Dalai-lama, and his subordinate the
Kutuktu, exercise priestly control over wellnigh all Mongolia as well
as Tibet. The city lies in a fertile plain nearly 12,000 feet high,
about twelve miles wide, and one hundred and twenty-five from north to
south, producing harvests of barley and millet, with abundant pasturage
and some fruit trees. Mountains and hills encircle it; of these the
westernmost is Putala, the river running so near its base that a wall
has been built to preserve the buildings from the rise of the waters.
The Chinese garrison is quartered about two miles north of this
mount, and two large temples, called _H’lassa tso-kang_ and _Ramotsie
tso-kang_, resplendent with gold and precious stones, stand very near
it. The four monasteries, Séra, Brebung, Samyé, and Galdan, constitute
as many separate establishments.[141] During the sway of the Songares
in Ílí, their prince Arabdan made a descent upon H’lassa, and the Lama
was killed. Kanghí placed a new one upon the see, in 1720, appointing
six leading officers of the old Lama to assist him in the government.
Three of these joined in an insurrection, and in the conflicts which
succeeded, H’lassa suffered considerably. The population of the town is
conjectured to be 24,000; that of the province is reckoned by Csoma at
about 650,000.
The town was visited in the year 1811 by Mr. Manning, whose description
of its dirty and miserable streets swarming with dogs and beggars,
and the meanness of its buildings, corresponds with what Huc and
Gabet found in 1846. Mr. Manning remained there nearly five months,
and had several interviews with the Dalai-lama; he was much impeded
in his observations by a Cantonese _munshí_ or teacher, and exposed
to danger of illness from insufficient shelter and clothing. His
reception by the chief of the Buddhist faith on the 17th of December,
was equally remarkable with that by the Teshu-lama of Bogle in 1774,
and of Turner in 1783. Mr. Manning was alone and unprotected and had
very few presents, but his offering was accepted; it consisted of a
piece of fine broadcloth, two brass candlesticks, twenty new dollars,
and two vials of lavender water. He rode to the foot of the mountain
Putala, and dismounted on the first platform to ascend by a long
stairway of four hundred steps, part of them cut in the rock, and the
rest ladder steps from story to story in the palace, till he reached
a large platform roof off which was the reception hall. Upon entering
this he found that the _Tí-mu-fu_ or _Gesub Rimboché_, the highest
civil functionary in Tibet, was also present, which caused him some
confusion: “I did not know how much ceremony to go through with one
before I began with the other. I made the due obeisance, touching the
ground three times with my head to the Grand Lama, and once to the
_Tí-mu-fu_. I presented my gifts, delivering the coins with a handsome
silk scarf with my own hands to them both. While I was _kotowing_, the
awkward servants let one of the bottles of lavender water fall and
break. Having delivered the scarf to the Grand Lama, I took off my hat,
and humbly gave him my clean shaven head to lay his hands upon....
The Lama’s beautiful and interesting face and manner engrossed all my
attention. He was about seven years old; had the simple manners of a
well educated princely child. His face was, I thought, poetically and
affectingly beautiful. He was of a cheerful disposition, his beautiful
mouth perpetually unbending into a graceful smile, which illuminated
his whole countenance. No doubt my grim beard and spectacles excited
his risibility. We had not been seated long before he put questions
which we rose to receive and answer. He inquired whether I had met with
difficulties on the road; to which I replied that I had had troubles,
but now that I had the happiness of being in his presence they were
amply compensated. I could see that this answer pleased both him and
his people, for they found that I was not a mere rustic, but had some
tincture of civility in me.”[142]
~SHIGATSÉ AND TESHU-LUMBO.~
The capital of Tsang or Ulterior Tibet is Shigatsé, situated 126
miles west of H’lassa, and under its control. The monastery where
the Teshu-lama and his court resides is a few miles distant, and
constitutes a town of about 4,000 priests, named Teshu-Lumbo. He is
styled Panchen Rimboché, and is the incarnation of Amitabha Buddha.
His palace is built of dark brick and has a roof of gilded copper; the
houses rise one above another and the gilt ornaments on the temples
combine to give a princely appearance to the town. The fortress of
Shigatsé stands so as to command both places. The plain between this
town and H’lassa is a fertile tract, and judging from the number of
towns in the valleys of the basin of the Yaru, its productive powers
are comparatively great. Ulterior Tibet is divided into six other
cantons, besides the territory under the jurisdiction of the chief
town, most of their fortified capitals lying westward of Shigatsé.
The degree of skill the Tibetans have attained in manufactures,
mechanical arts, and general civilization, is less than that of the
Chinese, but superior to the Mongols. They appear to be a mild and
humane people, possessing a religious sense and enjoying an easy life
compared with their southern neighbors. They are well-bred and affable,
fond of gossiping and festivities, which soften the heart and cheer
the temper. Women are treated with care and are not often compelled
to work out of doors. No two people or countries widely separated
present a stronger contrast than do the stout, tall, muscular, and
florid Butías, upon their fertile fields and wooded hills, with the
squat, puny, sluggish, and swarthy Tibetans in their rugged, barren
mountains. They distinguish five sorts of people among themselves, the
last of whom are the Butías; the others are the inhabitants of Kham, or
Anterior Tibet, those in Tsang, the nomads of Kor-kache, and the people
of Little Tibet. All of them speak Tibetan with some variations. The
Tibetans are clad with woollens and furs to such a degree that they
appear to emulate the animals they derive them from in their weight
and warmth; and with this clothing is found no small quantity of dirt.
The dress of the sexes varies slightly in its shape; yellow and red
are the predominant colors. Large bulgar boots of hide are worn by
all persons; the remainder of the dress consists of woollen robes and
furs like those of the Chinese. The women wear many jewels, and adorn
their hair as do the Mongols with pearls, coral, and turquoises. Girls
braid their hair in three tresses, married women in two. The head is
protected by high velvet caps; the men wear broad-brimmed coverings of
various materials.
The two religious sects are distinguished by yellow and red caps; the
latter are comparatively few, allow marriage to the lamas, but do not
differ materially in their ritual or tenets. There is no country where
so large a proportion of the people are devoted to religious service as
in Tibet, nor one where the secular part of the inhabitants pays such
implicit deference to the clergy. The food of the Tibetans is taken at
all hours, mutton, barley, and tea constituting the staple articles. On
all visits tea is presented, and the cup replenished as often as it is
drained. Spirits and beer, both made from barley, are common beverages.
On every visit of ceremony, and whenever a letter is sent from one
person to another, it is necessary to connect a silk scarf with it, the
size and texture being proportioned to the rank and condition of the
parties. The sentence _Om mani padmí hum_ is woven upon each end.
~OM MANI PADMÍ HÛM.~
The following note by Col. Yule, condensed from Koeppen’s _Lamaische
Hierarchie und Kirche_, contains the most satisfactory explanation of
this puzzling mystic formula: “Om mani padmí hûm!--the primeval six
syllables, as the lamas say, among all prayers on earth form that which
is most abundantly recited, written, printed, and even spun by machines
for the good of the faithful. These syllables form the only prayer
known to the ordinary Tibetans and Mongols; they are the first words
that the child learns to stammer, and the last gasping utterance of the
dying. The wanderer murmurs them on his way, the herdsman beside his
cattle, the matron at her household tasks, the monk in all the stages
of contemplation (_i.e._, of _far niente_); they form at once a cry of
battle and a shout of victory! They are to be read wherever the Lama
church hath spread, upon banners, upon rocks, upon trees, upon walls,
upon monuments of stone, upon household utensils, upon strips of paper,
upon human skulls and skeletons! They form, according to the idea of
the believers, the utmost conception of all religion, of all wisdom,
of all revelation, the path of rescue and the gate of salvation!...
Properly and literally these four words, a single utterance of
which is sufficient of itself to purchase an inestimable salvation,
signify nothing more than: “O the Jewel in the Lotus! Amen!” In this
interpretation, most probably, the _Jewel_ stands for the Bodhisatva
Avalokiteçvara, so often born from the bud of a lotus flower. According
to this the whole formula is simply a salutation to the mighty saint
who has taken under his especial charge the conversion of the North,
and with him who first employed it the mystic formula meant no more
than _Ave Avalokiteçvara!_ But this simple explanation of course
does not satisfy the Lama schoolmen, who revel in glorifications and
multitudinous glossifications of this formula. The six syllables are
the heart of hearts, the root of all knowledge, the ladder to re-birth
in higher forms of being, the conquerors of the five evils, the flame
that burns up sin, the hammer that breaks up torment, and so on. _Om_
saves the gods, _ma_ the Asuras, _ni_ the men, _pad_ the animals, _mí_
the spectre world of _pretâs_, _hûm_ the inhabitants of hell! _Om_ is
‘the blessing of self-renunciation, _ma_ of mercy, _ni_ of chastity,
etc.’ ‘Truly monstrous,’ says Koeppen, ‘is the number of _padmís_ which
in the great festivals hum and buzz through the air like flies.’ In
some places each worshipper reports to the highest Lama how many _om
manis_ he has uttered, and the total number emitted by the congregation
is counted by the billion.”
Grueber and Dorville describe _Manipe_ as an idol, before which
_stulta gens insolitis gesticulationibus sacra sua facit, identiden
verba haec repetens_:--‘O Manipe, mi hum, O Manipe, mi hum; _id est_
Manipe, salva nos!’ Rémusat (_Mélanges Posthumes_, Paris, 1843, p. 99)
translates this phrase by: “Adoration, O thou precious stone who art in
the lotus!” and observes that it illustrates the fundamental dogma of
Buddhism, viz.: the production of the material universe by an absolute
being; all things which exist are shut up in the breast of the divine
substance; the ‘precious stone’ signifying that _the world is in God_.
Mr. Jameson says that the sentence _Om mani padmí hung_ is formed of
the initial letters of various deities, all of whom are supposed to be
implored in the prayer.[143]
In reverential salutations, the cap is removed by the inferior, and the
arms hang by the side. The bodies of the dead are placed in an open
inclosure, in the same manner as practised by the Parsees, where birds
and beasts of prey devour them, or they are dismembered in an exposed
place. Lamas are burned, and their ashes collected into urns. As soon
as the breath has departed, the body is seated in the same attitude
as Buddha is represented, with the legs bent before, and the soles
of the feet turned upwards. The right hand rests upon the thigh, the
left turns up near the body, the thumb touching the shoulder. In this
attitude of contemplation, the corpse is burned.
~TIBETAN TYPES AND CUSTOMS.~
In Tibet, as in Butan, the custom of polyandry prevails. The choice of
a wife lies with the eldest son, who having made known his intentions
to his parents sends a matchmaker to propose the matter to the parents
of the girl. The consent of the parents being obtained, the matchmaker
places an ornament of a jewel set in gold, called _sedzia_ upon the
head of the damsel, and gives her presents of jewels, dresses, cattle,
etc., according to the means of the young man. The guests invited on
the day of the marriage bring presents of such things as they choose,
which augments the dowry. A tent is set up before the bride’s house, in
which are placed three or four square cushions, and the ground around
sprinkled with wheat; the bride is seated on the highest cushion, her
parents and friends standing near her according to their rank, and the
assembled party there partake of a feast. The bride is then conducted
to the house of her lover by the friends present, her person being
sprinkled with wheat or barley as she goes along, and there placed by
his side, and both of them served with tea and spirits. Soon after,
the groom seats himself apart, and every one present gives a scarf,
those of superior rank binding them around their necks, equals and
inferiors laying them by their sides. The next day, a procession is
formed of the relatives of the newly married pair, which visits all
the friends, and the marriage is completed. The girl thus becomes the
wife of all the brothers, and manages the domestic concerns of their
household. The number of her husbands is sometimes indicated by as many
points in her cap. This custom is strengthened by the desire, on the
part of the family, to keep the property intact among its members; but
it does not prevent one of the husbands leaving the roof and marrying
another woman, nor is the usage universal. Rémusat speaks of a novel
in Tibetan, in which the author admirably portrays the love of his
heroine, Triharticha, for her four lovers, and brings their marriage in
at the end in the happiest manner.
The dwellings of the poor are built of unhewn stones, rudely piled
upon each other without cement, two stories high, and resembling
brick-kilns in shape and size; the windows are small, in order not
to weaken the structure; the roof is flat, defended by a brushwood
parapet, and protected from the molestation of evil spirits by flags,
strips of paper tied to strings, or branches of trees. Timber is
costly and little used; the floors are of marble or tiles, and the
furniture consists of little else than mats and cushions. The temples
and convents are more imposing and commodious structures; some of those
at H’lassa are among the noblest specimens of architecture in Central
Asia.
The mausoleum of the Teshu-lama at Teshu Lumbu resembles a plain square
watch-tower surmounted by a double Chinese canopy roof, the eaves of
which are hung with bells, on which the breeze plays a ceaseless dirge.
The body of the lama reposes in a coffin of gold, and his effigy, also
of gold, is placed within the concavity of a large shell upon the top
of the pyramidal structure which contains it. The sides of the pyramid
are silver plates, and on the steps are deposited the jewels and other
costly articles which once appertained to him. An altar in front
receives the oblations and incense daily presented before the tomb,
and near by is a second statue of the deceased as large as life in the
attitude of reading. Scrolls and pennons of silk hang from the ceiling,
and the walls are adorned with paintings of priests engaged in prayer.
The whole structure is substantially built, and its rich ornaments are
placed there not less for security than to do honor to the revered
person deposited beneath. The windows are closed with mohair curtains,
and a skylight in the upper story serves for lighting the room, and
for passing out upon the roof. The roof or parapet is ornamented with
cylinders of copper or other materials, which imparts a brilliant
appearance to the edifices.
~COMMERCE AND LANGUAGE OF TIBET.~
The manufactures of Tibet consist of woollens, cloth, blankets, yarn,
goat-hair shawls, musk, paper, metals, and jewelry. Their lapidaries
cut every kind of ornament in superior style, and gold and silverware
forms a considerable article of trade to China. These and other crafts
must necessarily languish, however, from the immense proportion of men
who are withdrawn from labor into monasteries, compelling the residue
to devote most of their strength to tillage. The most important exports
to China consist of gold dust, precious stones, bezoars, asafœtida,
musk, woollens, and skins; for which the people receive silks, teas,
chinaware, tobacco, musical instruments, and metals. The trade is
carried on through Síning fu in Kansuh, and Batang in Sz’chuen.
Tincal, rock-salt, and shawl wool, are additional articles sent to
Ladak, Butan, and India.
Music is studied by the priesthood for their ceremonies, and with much
better effect than among the Chinese priests. Their amusements consist
in archery, dancing, and observance of many festivals connected with
the worship of the dead or of the living. Dram-drinking is common, but
the people cannot be called a drunken race, nor does the habit of opium
eating or smoking, so fatally general in Assam, prevail, inasmuch as
the poppy cannot well be cultivated among the mountains.
Education is confined to the priesthood, but the women, who conduct
much of the traffic, also learn arithmetic and writing. The language
is alphabetical, and reads from left to right; there are two forms of
the character, the _uchen_ used for books, and the _umin_ employed in
writing, which do not differ more than the Roman and the running-hand
in English. The form of the characters shows their Sanscrit origin, but
there are many consonants in the language not found in that tongue,
and silent letters are not unfrequent in the written words. There are
thirty consonants in the alphabet, distributed into eight classes, with
four additional vowel signs; each of them ends in a short _a_, as _ka_,
_nga_, _cha_, which can be lengthened by a diacritical mark placed
underneath. The syllables are separated from each other by a point; the
accented consonant is that which follows the vowel, and the others,
whether before or after it, are pronounced as rapidly as possible,
and not unfrequently omitted altogether in speaking. The variations
in this respect constitute the chief features of the patois found in
different parts where Tibetan is spoken. A dictionary and grammar[144]
of this language were printed in 1834 in Calcutta by Csoma de Körös,
a Hungarian who resided among the priests near Ladak. The literature
is almost wholly theological, as far as it has been examined, and such
works as are not of this character, have probably been introduced from
China. Their divisions of time, numeration, chronology, and weights,
have also been adopted from that country with a few alterations. An
Englishman, Mr. Brian Hodgson, who lived in Nípal from 1820 to 1843,
has added more than any one else to our knowledge of the literature of
this country. This gentleman procured complete copies of the original
documents of the Buddhist canon preserved in Sanscrit in Nípalese
monasteries, as well as (by a present from the Dalai-lama) the whole of
the existing literary remains of the once flourishing Christian mission
at H’lassa. His more important essays on these lands have now been
brought together in a single volume.[145]
~HISTORY OF TIBET.~
The history of Tibet has been made partially known to Europe through
the Mongol author, Sanang Setsen,[146] but if free access could be
had to their annals, it is probable that a methodical history could
be extracted, reaching back at least three centuries before Christ.
Tibet was ruled by its own princes till the rise of Genghis; the first
monarch, who united the various tribes under his sway B.C. 313, was
Seger-Sandilutu-Kagan-Tül-Esen,[147] and from the fact that Buddhism
was introduced during his reign, it might be inferred that he came
from the south. H’lassa was founded by Srongzan-Gambo, or Srongbdzan
sgambouo,[148] about A.D. 630, after which time Tibetan history becomes
more authentic, inasmuch as this king introduced the alphabet. The Tang
dynasty carried their arms into Tibet from Khoten, but the people threw
off their yoke during the decline of that family. Mohammedanism also
disturbed the supremacy of the Buddhist faith, and severe persecutions
followed about the beginning of the tenth century by an Islam prince
Darma, but it was repelled at his death, and has never since made the
least impression upon the people. Genghis reduced Tangout, one of the
principalities, northeast of Koko-nor, and soon after brought the
whole country under his sway; this Kublai still further settled as a
dependency of his empire. The people recovered their independence on
the expulsion of the Mongols, and under the Ming dynasty formed several
small kingdoms, among which were Ladak and Rodok, both of them still
existing.
From a short résumé of letters written from Tibet in 1626, by Romish
missionaries living there, it appears that the kingdom of Sopo was
the most powerful in the north, and Cogué, U-tsang, and Maryul were
three southern principalities. The king of Cogué allowed these
missionaries to reside in his territories, and took pleasure in
hearing them converse and dispute with the lamas. The Dalai-lama at
this time was the king’s brother, and possessed subordinate influence
in the state, but the priests were numerous and influential. The
conquest of Mongolia and Tangout opened the way for Kanghí to enter
Tibet, but the intercourse between the Emperor and Dalai-lama was
chiefly connected with religion and carrying tribute. An index of the
freedom of communication between Tibet and the west is found in the
passports issued to the traders visiting H’lassa in 1688. The lamas
held the supreme power until towards the end of his reign, when Chinese
influence became paramount. The country had already been conquered
by the Songar chieftain, so that on his defeat it could offer little
resistance. Kanghí appointed six of the highest princes or _gialbo_
over the provinces; but soon after his death, in 1727, three of them
conspired against Yungching, and were not subdued without considerable
resistance. The Emperor then appointed the loyal prince or _gialbo_ as
governor-general, and he remained in his vice-regal office till his
death, about 1750. Kienlung, finding that his son was endeavoring to
make himself fully independent, executed him as a rebel, suppressed the
office, and appointed two Chinese generals to be associated with the
Dalai-lama and his coadjutor, in the administration of the country. The
troops were increased and forts erected in all parts of the country to
awe the people and facilitate trade.
~GOVERNMENT OF TIBET.~
The present government of Tibet is superintended by two _ta chin_,
or ‘great ministers,’ residing at H’lassa, who act conjointly, while
they serve as checks upon each other; they do not hold their office
for a long time. They have absolute control over all the troops in the
country, and the military are generally confined to the garrisons, and
do not cultivate the soil. The collection of revenue, transmission
of tribute to Peking, and direction of the persons who carry it,
and those who conduct the trade at Batang and Síning fu, are all
under their control. The Dalai-lama, and the Teshu-lama are the high
religious officers of the country, each of them independent in his own
province, but the former holding the highest place in the hierarchy.
The Chinese residents confer with each concerning the direction of his
own province. All their appointments to office or nobility must be
sanctioned by the residents before they are valid, but merely religious
officers are not under this surveillance. In the villages, the
authority is administered by secular deputy lamas called _deba_, and by
commandants called _karpon_, who are sent from the capital. Each _deba_
is assisted by a native _vazir_ of the place, who, with the chief
lama, form the local government, amenable to the supreme magistracy.
The western province of Nari is peopled by nomads, who wander over
the regions north of Ravan-hrad, and are under the authority of
_karpons_ sent from H’lassa, without the assistance of lamas. The two
high-priests themselves are likewise assisted by councillors. One of
these, called Soopoon Choomboo, who held the office of _sadeek_ or
adviser when Turner visited Teshu-Lumbo, was a Manchu by birth, but had
long lived in Tibet.
The nomadic clans of Dam Mongols and other tribes occupying the
thirty-nine feudal townships or _tu-sz’_ in Anterior Tibet, are
governed by the residents without the intervention of the lamas. The
disturbances in Ulterior Tibet in 1792, resulting from the irruption
of the Nípalese and sack of Teshu-Lumbo, were speedily quelled by
the energy of Kienlung’s government, and the invaders forced to sue
for mercy. The southern frontier was, in consequence of this inroad,
strongly fortified by a chain of posts, and the communication with the
states between Tibet and India strictly forbidden and watched. It gave
the Chinese an opportunity to strengthen their rule and extend their
influence north to Khoten and into Ladak. The natural mildness of
character of the Tibetans, and similarity of religion renders them much
easier under the Chinese yoke, than the Mohammedans.[149]
FOOTNOTES:
[95] Klaproth (_Mémoires Relatifs à l’Asie_, Tome I., Paris, 1824) has
translated from the Manchu a narrative of a visit made in 1677 by one
of the grandees of Kanghí’s court to a summit in this range. _Chinese
Repository_, Vol. XX., p. 296.
[96] _Voyage Down the Amur_, by Perry McD. Collins, in 1857. New
York, 1860, chaps. xxxii.-lx., passim. Ravenstein’s _Amur_. _Chinese
Repository_, Vol. XIX., p. 289. Rev. A. Williamson, _Journeys in North
China_, Vol. II., chaps. x.-xiii.
[97] _The Chinese and their Rebellions._ London, 1856.
[98] Also called _Yenden_; Klaproth, _Mémoires_, Tome I., p. 446.
Rémusat informs us that this name formerly included all of Kirin, or
that which was placed under it.
[99] _Voyages Along the Coast of China._ New York, 1833.
[100] _Annales de la Foi_, Tome XVIII., 1846, p. 302.
[101] _Annales de la Foi_, Tome XVI., p. 359.
[102] The inhabitants of ancient Gedrosia, now Beloochistan, are
said to have clothed themselves in fish-skins. Heeren, _Historical
Researches among Asiatic Nations_, Vol. I., p. 175.
[103] Rev. Alex. Williamson, _Travels in Northern China_. London,
1870. Vol. II., Chaps. I. to XIV.; _Chinese Repository_, Vols. IV., p.
57; XV., p. 454; _Chinese Recorder_, Vol. VII., 1876, “The Rise and
Progress of the Manjows,” by J. Ross, pp. 155, 235, and 315.
[104] Compare Niebuhr’s _History of Rome_, Vol. II, Sect. “Of the
Colonies,” where can be observed the essential differences between
Roman settlements abroad and those of the Chinese; and still greater
differences will be found in contrasting these with the offsets of
Grecian States.
[105] Abulgasi-Bayadur-chan (_Histoire Genéalogique des Tatars,
traduite du Manuscript Tartare_; Leyde: 1726), gives another derivation
for these two names. “Alänzä-chan eut deux fils jumeaux l’un appelle
Tatar and l’autre Mogull ou pour bien dire Mung’l, entre les quels
il partagea ses Estates lorsqu’il se vit sur la fin de sa vie.” It
is the first prince, he adds, from whom came the name _Tartar_--not
from a river called Tata, as some have stated--while of the second:
“Le terme Mung’l a esté changé par une corruption generale en Mogull;
_Mung veut dire triste ou un homme triste_, et parceque ce prince
estoit naturellement d’une humeur fort triste, il porta ce nom dans la
verité”--(pp. 27-29). But Visdelon (D’Herbelot, ed. 1778, Tome IV., p.
327) shows more acquaintance with their history in producing proofs
that the name _Tatar_ was applied in the eighth century by the Chinese
to certain tribes living north of the Ín shan, Ala shan, and River
Liau. In the dissensions following upon the ruin of the Tang dynasty,
some of them migrated eastwards beyond the Songari, and there in time
rallied to subdue the northern provinces, under the name of _Nu-chih_.
These are the ancestors of the Manchus. Another fraction went north to
the marshy banks of Lakes Hurun and Puyur, where they received the name
of _Moungul Tahtsz’_, _i.e._, Marsh Tatars. This tribe and name it was
that the warlike Genghis afterwards made conspicuous. The sound _Mogul_
used in India is a dialectal variation.
[106] _Abulgasi_ (p. 83) furnishes a notice of these _aimaks_ and their
origin.
[107] _Mémoires_, Tome I., p. 2.
[108] Prejevalsky, _Mongolia_, Vol. I.; Pumpelly, _Across America_, pp.
382-385; Michie, _Across Siberia_.
[109] Cottrell’s _Recollections of Siberia_, Chap. IX., p. 314;
Timkowski’s _Travels_, Vol. I., pp. 4-91, 1821; Pumpelly, _Across
America and Asia_, p. 387, 1871; Klaproth, _Mémoires_, Tome I., p. 63;
Ritter, _Die Erdkunde von Asien_, Bd. II., pp. 198-226.
[110] Compare Richthofen, _China_, Band I., 2er Theil.; Yule, _Cathay
and the Way Thither_, passim.
[111] The wild ass is called by Prejevalsky the most remarkable animal
of these steppes. Compare Yule’s _Marco Polo_, Vol. I., p. 220 (2d
edition).
[112] For a notice of the _Ouigours_, who formerly ruled Tangout,
consult Klaproth, _Mémoires_, Tome II., p. 301, ff. See also Rémusat,
_Nouveaux Mélanges Asiatiques_, Tome II., p. 61, for a notice of the
_Ta-ta-tung’o_, who applied their letters to write Mongolian.
[113] _Chinese Repository_, Vol. IX., p. 113; Vol. I., p. 118. _Penny
Cyclopædia_, Arts. BAYAN KARA, TANGUT. Kreitner, _Im fernen Osten_, p.
702. Huc, _Travels_, passim.
[114] Lieut. Kreitner, _Im fernen Osten_.
[115] In Rémusat’s _Histoire de la Ville de Khotan_ (p. 76) there is
an account of a journey made in the 10th century between Kanchan and
Khoten.
[116] Rémusat calls it _Pentalope_. _Nouveaux Mélanges_, Tome I., p. 5.
[117] The recent treaty between Russia and China (ratified in 1881),
marks the boundaries between Ílí and Russian territory in the following
sections:
Art. VII. A tract of country in the west of Ílí is ceded to Russia,
where those who go over to Russia and are thereby dispossessed of
their land in Ílí may settle. The boundary line of Chinese Ílí and
Russian territory will stretch from the Pieh-chên-tao [Bedschin-tau]
Mountains along the course of the Ho-êrh-kwo-ssü [Yehorsos] River,
to its junction with the Ílí River, thence across the Ílí River, and
south to the east of the village of Kwo-li-cha-tê [Kaldschat] on the
Wu-tsung-tau range, and from this point south along the old boundary
line fixed by the agreement of Ta-Chêng [Tashkend] in the year 1864.
Art. VIII. The boundary line to the east of the Chi-sang lake, fixed
in the year 1864 by the agreement of Ta-Chêng [Tashkend], having
proved unsatisfactory, high officers will be specially deputed by both
countries jointly to examine and alter it so that a satisfactory result
may be attained. That there may be no doubt what part of the Khassak
country belongs to China and what to Russia, the boundary will consist
of a straight line drawn from the Kwei Tung Mountains across the
Hei-i-êrh-te-shih River to the Sa-wu-êrh range, and the high officers
deputed to settle the boundary will fix the new boundary along such
straight line which is within the old boundary.
Art. IX. As to the boundary on the west, between the Province of
Fei-êrh-kan [Ferghana], which is subject to Russia, and Chinese
Kashgar, officials will be deputed by both countries to examine it,
and they will fix the boundary line between the territories at present
actually under the jurisdiction of either country, and they will erect
boundary stones thereon.
[118] Compare also Schuyler, _Turkistan_, Vol. II., pp. 127 ff.
[119] 175,000 perished in Kuldja alone.
[120] The question of the existence of volcanoes in Central Asia,
especially on the Kuldja frontier, has always been a matter of doubt
and discussion among geologists and Russian explorers. The Governor of
Semiretchinsk, General Kolpakofsky, was, in 1881, able to report the
discovery of the perpetual fires in the Tien shan range of mountains.
The mountain Bai shan was found twelve miles northeast of Kuldja, in
a basin surrounded by the massive Ailak mountains; its fires are not
volcanic, but proceed from burning coal. On the sides of the mountain
there are caves emitting smoke and sulphurous gas. Mr. Schuyler, in
his _Turkistan_, mentions that these perpetual fires in the mountains,
referred to by Chinese historians, were considered by Severtzoff, a
Russian, who explored the region, as being caused by the ignition of
the seams of coal, or the carburetted hydrogen gas in the seams. The
same author further mentions that Captain Tosnofskey, another Russian
explorer, was told of a place in the neighborhood from which steam
constantly rose, and that near this crevice there had existed, from
ancient times, three pits, where persons afflicted with rheumatism or
skin diseases were in the habit of bathing.
[121] Wood, _Journey to the Source of the River Oxus_, p. 356. From the
hills that encircle Lake Sir-i-kol rise some of the principal rivers in
Asia: the Yarkand, Kashgar, Sirr, Kuner, and Oxus.
[122] _Richthofen’s Remarks_ in Prejevalsky’s _Lob-nor_, p. 138.
London, 1879.
[123] Called also _Pourouts_. Compare Klaproth (_Mémoires_, Tome III.,
p. 332), who has a notice of these tribes.
[124] H. W. Bellew, _Kashmir and Kashgar. A Narrative of the Journey of
the Embassy to Kashgar in 1873-4_, p. 2.
[125] But Rémusat says that Karakash is a river and no town.
[126] Wood (_Journey to the Oxus_, p. 279) refers to a frontier town by
the name of Ecla.
[127] _Penny Cyclopædia_, _Art._ THIAN SHAN NAN LU.
[128] Rémusat, _Histoire de Khotan_, p. 35.
[129] Concerning the nomenclature of this region compare Rémusat,
_Histoire de Khotan_, p. 66. See, moreover, _ib._, p. 47 ff., the
legend of a drove of desert rats assisting the king of this land
against the army of his enemies.
[130] “Galdan, better known by his title of Contaïsch”--Rémusat,
_Nouveaux Mélanges_, Tome II., p. 29. See also Schuyler’s _Turkistan_,
Vol. II., p. 168.
[131] Compare Rémusat (_Nouveaux Mélanges_, Tome II., p. 102), who
has compiled a brief life of their leader Ubusha. De Quincey’s essay,
_The Flight of a Tartar Tribe_. Ritter, _Asien_, Bd. V. pp. 531-583:
_Welthistorischer Einfluss des chinesischen Reichs auf Central- und
West-Asien_.
[132] _Chinese Repository_, Vol. V., pp. 267, 316, 351, etc.; Vol.
IX., p. 113. _Penny Cyclopædia_, _Art._ SONGARIA. Boulger, _Russia and
England in Central Asia_, 2 Vols., London, 1879. Schuyler, _Turkistan_,
2 vols., N. Y., 1877. Petermann’s _Mittheilungen_, Appendices XLII. and
XLIII., 1875.
[133] This derivation is explained somewhat differently in Rémusat,
_Nouveaux Mélanges_, Tome I., p. 190.
[134] To these Ritter adds the names of Wei, Dzang, Nga-ri, Kham,
Bhodi, Peu-u-Tsang, Si-Dzang, Thupho, Tobbat, Töböt, Tübet, Tibet,
and Barantola, as all applying to this country. _Asien_, Bd. III., S.
174-183.
[135] See Rémusat, _Nouveaux Mélanges_, I., p. 190, for notices of
tribes anciently inhabiting this district and Bokhara. Compare also
Heeren (_Historical Researches_, Vol. I., pp. 180-186), who gives in
brief the accounts of Herodotus and Ctesias.
[136] Introduction by Col. Yule, in Gill’s _River of Golden Sand_.
[137] Called by Wood _Kash-gow_ (_Journey to the Oxus_, p. 319).
_Chauri gau_, _sarlyk_, and _sarlac_, are other names.
[138] This cross is mentioned by Marco Polo, _Yule’s ed._, Vol. I., p.
241.
[139] Prejevalsky, _Travels in Mongolia_, etc., Vol. I., p. 187.
[140] B. H. Hodgson, Notice of the Mammals of Tibet, _Journal As.
Soc. of Bengal_, Vol. XI., pp. 275 ff.; also _ib._ Vols. XVI., p.
763, XIX., p. 466, and XXVI., No. 3, 1857. Abbé Armand David, Notes
sur quelques oiseaux de Thibet, _Nouv. Arch. du Museum, Bull._, V.
1869, p. 33; _ib._ _Bull._, VI., pp. 19 and 33. _Bull._, VIII., 1872,
pp. 3-128, IX., pp. 15-48, X., pp. 3-82. _Recherches pour servir à
l’histoire naturelle des mammifères comprennant des considérations sur
la classification de ces animaux, etc., des études sur la faune de
la Chine et du Tibet oriental_, par MM. Milne-Edwards, etc., 2 vols.
Paris, 1868-74.
[141] Klaproth, _Description du Tubet_, p. 246.
[142] _Mission of George Bogle to Tibet and Journey of Thomas Manning
to Lhasa._ Edited by C. R. Markham. London, 1876, p. 265.
[143] Compare, for further discussion of this subject, Timkowski’s
_Mission to Peking_, London, 1827, Vol. II., p. 349. Wilson’s _Abode of
Snow_, p. 329.
[144] _Essay towards a Dictionary, Tibetan and English. A Grammar of
the Tibetan Language in English._ Calcutta, 1834.
[145] _Essays on the Language, Literature, and Religion of Nepal and
Tibet_, etc. London, 1874.
[146] Rémusat, _Observations sur l’Histoire des Mongols orienteaux
de Sanang Setsen_, Paris, l’an 8. _Ssanang Ssetsen, Geschichte der
Mongolen_, Uebers., von. J. J. Schmidt, Petersb., 1829.
[147] Rémusat relates the story of his origin, _Mélanges Posthumes_, p.
400.
[148] Klaproth, _Description du Tubet_.
[149] Authorities on Tibet besides those already referred to: _Journal
Asiatique_, Tomes IV., p. 281; VIII., p. 117; IX., p. 31; XIV., pp.
177, ff. 277, 406, etc. Du Halde, _Description of China_, Vol. II., pp.
384-388. Capt. Samuel Turner, _Account of an Embassy to the Court of
Teshoo Lama in Tibet_, London, 1800. _Histoire de ce qui s’est passé au
Royaume du Tibet, en l’année 1626_; trad. de l’Italien. Paris, 1829.
P. Kircher, _China Illustrata_. MM. Péron et Billecocq, _Recueil de
Voyages du Thibet_, Paris, 1796. _Journal of the Asiatic Society of
Bengal_, passim. _Chinese Repository_, Vols. VI., pp. 28, 494, IX., p.
26, and XIII., p. 505. Ritter, _Asien_, Bd. II., 4er Abschnitt, and
Bd. III., S. 137-424. Richthofen, _China_, Bd. I., S. 228, 247, 466,
670, 683, etc. C. H. Desgodin, _La mission du Tibet de 1855 à 1870,
comprennant l’exposé des affaires religieuses_, etc. _D’après les
lettres de M. l’abbé Desgodins, missionaire apostolique_, Verdun, 1872.
Lieut. Kreitner, _Im fernen Osten_, pp. 829 ff., and in _The Popular
Science Monthly_, for August, 1882. Emil Schlagintweit, _Tibetan
Buddhism, Illustrated by Literary Documents and Objects of Religious
Worship_, London, 1863. Abbé Huc, _Travels through Tartary, Tibet and
China_, 2 vols.
CHAPTER V.
POPULATION AND STATISTICS.
Much of the interest appertaining to the country and people here
treated of, in the minds of philanthropic and intelligent men, has
arisen from the impression they have received of its vast population.
A country twice the size of the Chinese empire would present few
attractions to the Christian, the merchant, or the ethnologist,
if it were no better inhabited than Sahara, or Arizona: a people
might possess most admirable institutions, and a matchless form of
government, yet these excellencies would lose their interest, did we
hear that it is the republic of San Marino or the kingdom of Muscat,
where they are found. The population of few countries in the world
has been accurately ascertained, and probably that of China is less
satisfactory than any European or American state of the present day.
It is far easier to take a census among a people who understand its
object, and will honestly assist in its execution, than in a despotic,
half-civilized country, where the mass of the inhabitants are afraid of
contact or intercourse with their rulers; in most of such states, as
Abyssinia, Turkey, Persia, etc., there is either no regular enumeration
at all, or merely a general estimate for the purposes of revenue or
conscription.
~CREDIT DUE TO CHINESE CENSUSES.~
The subject of the population of China has engaged the attention of the
monarchs of the present dynasty, and their censuses have been the best
sources of information in making up an intelligent opinion upon the
matter. Whatever may be our views of the actual population, it is plain
that these censuses, with all their discrepancies and inaccuracies, are
the only reliable sources of information. The conflicting opinions and
conclusions of foreign writers neither give any additional weight to
them, nor detract at all from their credibility. As the question stands
at present, they can be doubted, but cannot be denied; it is impossible
to prove them, while there are many grounds for believing them; the
enormous total which they exhibit can be declared to be improbable, but
not shown to be impossible.
No one who has been in China can hesitate to acknowledge that there
are some strong grounds for giving credit to them, but the total goes
so far beyond his calculations, that entire belief must, indeed, be
deferred till some new data have been furnished. There are, perhaps,
more peculiar encouragements to the increase of population there
than in any other country, mostly arising from a salubrious climate,
semi-annual crops, unceasing industry, early marriages, and an equable
taxation, involving reasonable security of life and property. Turning
to other countries of Asia, we soon observe that in Japan and Persia
these causes have less influence; in Siam and Burmah they are weak; in
Tibet they are almost powerless.
At this point every one must rest, as the result of an examination into
the population of the Chinese Empire; though, from the survey of its
principal divisions, made in the preceding chapters, its capability of
maintaining a dense population needs no additional evidence. The mind,
however, is bewildered in some degree by the contemplation of millions
upon millions of human beings thus collected under one government; and
it almost wishes there might be grounds for disbelieving the enormous
total, from the dreadful results that might follow the tyrannical
caprice or unrestrained fury of their rulers, or the still more
shocking scenes of rapine and the hideous extremities of want which a
bad harvest would necessarily cause.
~MA TWAN-LIN’S STUDY OF THE CENSUSES.~
Chinese literature contains many documents describing classes of
society comprised in censuses in the various dynasties. The results of
those enumerations have been digested by Ma Twan-lin in a judicious
and intelligent manner in the chapters treating on population, from
which M. Ed. Biot has elaborated many important data.[150] The early
records show that the census was designed to contain only the number of
taxable people, excluding all persons bound to give personal service,
who were under the control of others. Moreover, all officials and
slaves, all persons over 60 or 66 years of age, the weak or sick, those
needing help, and sometimes such as were newly placed on state lands,
were likewise omitted. Deducting these classes, Ma Twan-lin gives
one census taken in the ninth century, B.C., as 13,704,923 persons,
between the ages of 15 and 65, living within the frontiers north of the
Yangtsz’ River. This figure would be worth, according to the tables of
modern statistics, about 65 per cent. of the entire population, or as
representing 21,753,528 inhabitants.
The mighty conqueror, Tsin Chí Hwangtí, changed the personal corvée to
scutage, and introduced a kind of poll-tax, by accepting the money from
many who could not be forced to do the work required. This practice
was followed in the Han dynasty, and in B.C. 194, the poll-tax was
legalized, to include all men between 15 and 66, while a lighter
impost was levied on those between 7 and 14. During the four centuries
of this family’s régime, the object and modes of a census were well
understood. Ma Twan-lin gives the results of ten taken between A.D.
2 and 155. His details show that it was done simply for revenue, and
was omitted in bad years, when drought or freshets destroyed the
harvests; they show, too, an increase in the number of slaves, that
women were now enumerated, and that girls between 15 and 30 paid a
poll-tax. In B.C. 30, the limits of age were placed between 7 and 56.
The average of these ten censuses is 63,500,600, the first one being
as high as 83,640,000, while the next and lowest, taken fifty-five
years afterwards, is only 29,180,000, and the third is 47,396,000.
These great variations are explained by the disturbances arising in
consequence of the usurpation of Wangmang, A.D. 9-27, and subsequent
change of the capital, and the impossibility, during this troubled
period, of canvassing all parts of the Empire. The inference from
these data, that the real population of the Chinese Empire north of the
Nan ling at the time of Christ was at least eighty millions, is as well
grounded as almost any fact in its history.[151]
After the downfall of the Han dynasty, a long period of civil war
ensued, in which the destruction of life and property was so enormous
that the population was reduced to one-sixth of the amount set down
in A.D. 230, when disease, epidemics, and earthquakes increased the
losses caused by war and the cessation of agriculture, according to
Ma Twan-lin; and it is not till A.D. 280, when the Tsin dynasty had
subjected all to its sway, that the country began to revive. In that
year an enumeration was made which stated the free people between 12
and 66 years in the land at 14,163,863, or 23,180,000 in all. From this
period till the Sui dynasty came into power, in 589, China was torn
by dissensions and rival monarchs, and the recorded censuses covered
only a portion of the land, the figures including even fewer of the
people, owing to the great number of serfs or bondmen who had sought
safety under the protection of landowners. At this time a new mode of
taking the census was ordered, in which the people were classified
into those from 1 to 3 years, then 3 to 10, then 10 to 17, and 17 to
60, after which age they were not taxed; the ratio of the land tax
was also fixed. A census taken in 606 in this way gives an estimated
population of 46,019,956 in all China; the frontiers, at this period,
hardly reached to the Nan ling Mountains, and the author’s explanation
of the manner of carrying on some public works shows that even this sum
did not include persons who were liable to be called on for personal
service, while all officials, slaves, and beggars were omitted.
Troubles arose again from these enforced works, and it was not till the
advent to power of the Tang dynasty, in 618, that a regular enumeration
was possible.
This family reigned 287 years, and Ma Twan-lin gives fifteen returns
of the population up to 841. They show great variations, some of them
difficult to explain even by omitting or supplying large classes of the
inhabitants. The one most carefully taken was in A.D. 754, and gives
an estimated total of about seventy millions for the whole Empire,
which, though nearly the same as that in the Han dynasty in A.D. 2,
extended over a far greater area, even to the whole southern seaboard.
In addition to former enumerated classes, many thousands of priests
were passed by in this census.
The years of anarchy following the Tang, till A.D. 976, when the
Sung dynasty obtained possession, caused their usual effect. Its
first census gives only about sixteen millions of taxable population
that year, when its authority was not firmly assured; but in 1021
the returns rise to 43,388,380, and thence gradually increase to
100,095,250 in 1102, just before the provinces north of the Yellow
River, by far the most fertile and loyal, were lost. The last
enumeration, in 1223, while Ma Twan-lin was living, places the returns
in the southern provinces at 63,304,000; this was fifty years before
Kublai khan conquered the Empire. Our author gives some details
concerning the classes included in the census during his own lifetime,
which prove to a reasonable mind that the real number of mouths living
on the land was, if anything, higher than the estimates. In 1290,
the Mongol Emperor published his enumeration, placing the taxable
population at 58,834,711, “not counting those who had fled to the
mountains and lakes, or who had joined the rebels.” This was not long
after his ruthless hand had almost depopulated vast regions in the
northern provinces, before he could quiet them.
In the continuation of Ma Twan-lin’s _Researches_, there are sixteen
censuses given for the Ming dynasty between 1381 and 1580; the lowest
figure is 46,800,000, in 1506, and the highest, 66,590,000, in 1412,
the average for the two centuries being 56,715,360 inhabitants.
One of its compilers declares that he cannot reconcile their great
discrepancies, and throws doubts on their totals from his inability to
learn the mode of enumeration. Three are given for three consecutive
years (1402-1404), the difference between the extremes of which amounts
to sixteen millions, but they were all taken when Yungloh was fighting
Kienwăn, his nephew, at Nanking, and settling himself at Peking as
Emperor, during which years large districts could not possibly have
been counted.
~COMPARATIVE CENSUS TABLES.~
Before entering upon a careful examination of this question, it will be
well to bring together the various estimates taken of the population
during the present dynasty. The details given in the table on page 264
have been taken from the best sources, and are as good as the people
themselves possess.
Besides these detailed accounts, there have been several aggregates of
the whole country given by other native writers than Ma Twan-lin, and
some by foreigners, professedly drawn from original sources, but who
have not stated their authorities. The most trustworthy, together with
those given in the other table, are here placed in chronological order.
REIGN OF MONARCH. A.D. POPULATION. AUTHORITIES.
1. Hungwu, 13th year, 1381 59,850,000 } Continuation of Ma
2. Yungloh, 9th year, 1412 65,377,000 } Twan-lin. Ed. Biot,
3. Wanleih, 7th year, 1580 60,692,000 } _Journal Asiatique_,
1836.
4. Shunchí, 18th year, 1662 21,068,600 } _General Statistics of
5. Kanghí, 6th year, 1668 25,386,209 } the Empire_; Medhurst’s
6. „ 49th year, 1710? 23,312,200 } _China_, p. 53.
7. „ 49th year, 1710? 27,241,129 { _Yih Tung Chí_, a
{ statistical work;
Morrison’s _View of China_.
8. „ 50th year, 1711 28,605,716 { _General Statistics_;
{ _Chinese Repository_,
Vol. I, p. 359.
9. Kienlung, 1st year, 1736 125,046,245 } _Mémoires sur les
10. „ 8th year, 1743 157,343,975 } Chinois_, Tome
11. „ 8th year, 1743 149,332,730 } VI., p. 277 ff.
12. „ 8th year, 1743 150,265,475 { _Les Missionaires_,
{ De Guignes,
Tome III., p. 67.
13. „ 18th year, 1753 103,050,060 { _General Statistics_;
{ _Chinese Repository_,
Vol. I., p. 359.
14. „ 25th year, 1760? 143,125,225 { _Yih Tung Chi_, a
{ statistical work;
Morrison’s _View of China_.
15. „ 25th year, 1760? 203,916,477 } _Mémoires sur les Chinois_,
16. „ 26th year, 1761 205,293,053 } Tome VI. De Guignes,
Tome III., p. 72.
17. „ 27th year, 1762 198,214,553 { Allerstein; Grosier; De
{ Guignes, Tome III., p. 67.
18. „ 55th year, 1790 155,249,897 { “Z.” of Berlin, in _Chinese
{ Repository_, Vol. I.,
p. 361.
19. „ 57th year, 1792 307,467,200 { _General Statistics_; Dr.
{ Morrison, Anglo-Chinese
20. „ 57th year, 1792 333,000,000 { Coll. Report, 1829.
{ Statement made to Lord
Macartney.
21. Kiaking, 17th year, 1812 362,467,183 { _General Statistics_;
{ _Chinese Repository_,
Vol. I., p. 359.
22. Tungchí, 8th year, 1868 404,946,514 { Vassilivitch.
23. Kwangsü, 7th year, 1881 380,000,000 { _Chinese Custom’s Reports._
Seven of these censuses, viz., the 7th, 8th, 12th, 13th, 17th, 20th,
21st and 23d, are given in detail in the following table. The first
three belong to the Ming dynasty, and are taken from a continuation of
Ma Twan-lin’s _Researches_, whence they were quoted in the _Mirror of
History_, without their details. During the Ming dynasty, a portion
of the country now called the Eighteen Provinces, was not under the
control of Hungwu and his descendants. The wars with the Japanese,
and with tribes on the north and west, together with the civil wars
and struggles between the Chinese themselves, and with the Nü-chí in
Manchuria, must have somewhat decreased the population.
TABLE OF THE DIFFERENT CENSUSES OF THE EIGHTEEN PROVINCES.
-----------+---------+----------+----------+----------+-----------+
| | | | | |
| Area in | Aver. | | | |
PROVINCES. | English |population|Census in |Census of | Census of |
| square | to a | 1710, or | 1711. | 1758. |
| miles. | sq. m. | before. | | |
| | in 1812. | | | |
-----------+---------+----------+----------+----------+-----------+
Chihlí | 58,949| 475| 3,260,075| 3,274,870| 9,374,217|
Shantung | 65,104| 444| .........| 2,278,595| 12,769,872|
Shansí | 55,268| 252| 1,792,329| 1,727,144| 5,162,351|
Honan | 65,104| 420| 2,005,088| 3,094,150| 7,114,346|
Kiangsu | 44,500| 850| 3,917,707| 2,656,465| 12,618,987|
Nganhwui | 48,461| 705| 1,350,131| 1,357,829| 12,435,361|
Kiangsí | 72,176| 320| 5,528,499| 2,172,587| 5,055,251|
Chehkiang | 39,150| 671| 2,710,649| 2,710,312| 8,662,808|
Fuhkien | 53,480| 276| 1,468,145| 706,311| 4,710,399|
Hupeh | 70,450| 389| 469,927| 433,943| 4,568,860|
Hunan | 74,320| 251| 375,782| 335,034| 4,336,332|
Shensí | 67,400| 153| 240,809| 2,150,696| 3,851,043|
Kansuh | 86,608| 175| 311,972| 368,525| 2,133,222|
Sz’chuen | 166,800| 128| 144,154| 3,802,689| 1,368,496|
Kwangtung | 79,456| 241| 1,148,918| 1,142,747| 3,969,248|
Kwangsí | 78,250| 93| 205,995| 210,674| 1,975,619|
Kweichau | 64,554| 82| 51,089| 37,731| 1,718,848|
Yunnan | 107,969| 51| 2,255,666| 145,414| 1,003,058|
Shingking | .......| ..| 4,194| .......| 221,742|
+---------+----------+----------+----------+-----------+
|1,297,999| 268|27,241,129|28,605,716|103,050,060|
-----------+---------+----------+----------+----------+-----------+
-----------+-----------+-----------+-----------+-----------+
| | | | |
| Last |Estimate in| Census in |Census of |
PROVINCES. | Census of |1792, given| 1762 by |1743, from |
| 1812. |Macartney. |Allerstein.|De Guignes.|
| | | | |
| | | | |
-----------+-----------+-----------+-----------+-----------+
Chihlí | 27,990,871| 38,000,000| 15,222,940| 16,702,765|
Shantung | 28,958,764| 24,000,000| 25,180,734| 12,159,680|
Shansí | 14,004,210| 27,000,000| 9,768,189| 8,969,475|
Honan | 23,037,171| 25,000,000| 16,332,507| 12,637,280|
Kiangsu | 37,843,501|}32,000,000|{23,161,409|}26,766,365|
Nganhwui | 34,168,059|} |{22,761,030|} |
Kiangsí | 23,046,999| 19,000,000| 11,006,640| 6,681,350|
Chehkiang | 26,256,784| 21,000,000| 15,429,690| 15,623,990|
Fuhkien | 14,777,410| 15,000,000| 8,063,671| 7,643,035|
Hupeh | 27,370,098| 14,000,000| 8,080,603|} 4,264,850|
Hunan | 18,652,507| 13,000,000| 8,829,320|} |
Shensí | 10,207,256| 18,000,000| 7,287,443|{14,804,035|
Kansuh | 15,193,125| 12,000,000| 7,812,014|{ |
Sz’chuen | 21,435,678| 27,000,000| 2,782,976| 15,181,710|
Kwangtung | 19,174,030| 21,000,000| 6,797,597| 6,006,600|
Kwangsí | 7,313,895| 10,000,000| 3,947,414| 1,143,450|
Kweichau | 5,288,219| 9,000,000| 3,402,722| 255,445|
Yunnan | 5,561,320| 8,000,000| 2,078,802| 1,189,825|
Shingking | 2,167,286| .........| 668,852| 235,620|
+-----------+-----------+-----------+-----------+
|362,447,183|333,000,000|198,214,553|150,265,475|
-----------+-----------+-----------+-----------+-----------+
-----------+------------+-----------+
|_Almanac de | |
| Gotha_, |Revenue in |
PROVINCES. |1882, taken | taels of |
|from Chinese|$1.33 each.|
| Customs’ | |
| Reports. | |
-----------+------------+-----------+
Chihlí | 28,000,000| 3,942,000|
Shantung | 29,000,000| 6,344,000|
Shansí | 17,056,925| 6,313,000|
Honan | 29,069,771| 5,651,000|
Kiangsu | {37,800,000|}11,733,000|
Nganhwui | {34,200,000|} |
Kiangsí | 23,000,000| 3,744,000|
Chehkiang | 26,300,000| 5,856,000|
Fuhkien | 14,800,000| 2,344,000|
Hupeh | {27,400,000| 2,091,000|
Hunan | {20,048,969| 1,905,000|
Shensí | }10,309,769| 3,042,000|
Kansuh | } 9,285,377| 563,000|
Sz’chuen | 35,000,000| 2,968,000|
Kwangtung | 19,200,000| 193,000|
Kwangsí | 8,121,327| 794,000|
Kweichau | 5,679,128| 185,000|
Yunnan | 5,823,670| 432,000|
Shingking | .........| .......|
+------------+-----------+
| 380,000,000| 58,097,000|
-----------+------------+-----------+
~THE CENSUSES INDIVIDUALLY CONSIDERED.~
The first census of 1662 (No. 4), is incidentally mentioned by
Kienlung in 1791, as having been taken at that time, from his making
some observations upon the increase of the population and comparing
the early censuses with the one he had recently ordered. This sum of
21,068,600 does not, however, include all the inhabitants of China at
that date; for the Manchus commenced their sway in 1644, and did not
exercise full authority over all the provinces much before 1700; Canton
was taken in 1650, Formosa in 1683.
The census of 1668 (No. 5), shows a little increase over that of 1662,
but is likewise confined to the conquered portions; and in those
provinces which had been subdued, there were extensive tracts which
had been almost depopulated at the conquest. Any one who reads the
recitals of Semedo, Martini, Trigautius, and others, concerning the
massacres and destruction of life both by the Manchus and by Chinese
bandits, between 1630 and 1650, will feel no loss in accounting for
the diminution of numbers, down to 1710. But the chief explanation of
the decrease from sixty to twenty-seven millions is to be found in the
object of taking the census, viz., to levy a poll-tax, and get at the
number of men fit for the army--two reasons for most men to avoid the
registration.
The census of 1711 (No. 8), is the first one on record which bears
the appearance of credibility, when its several parts are compared
with each other. The dates of the preceding (Nos. 6 and 7), are rather
uncertain; the last was extracted by Dr. Morrison from a book published
in 1790, and he thought it was probably taken as early as 1650,
though that is unlikely. The other is given by Dr. Medhurst without
any explanation, and their great disparity leads us to think that
both are dated wrongly. The census of 1711 is much more consistent in
itself, though there are some reasons for supposing that neither did it
include all the population then in China. The census was still taken
for enrolment in the army, and to levy a capitation tax upon all males
between the ages of sixteen and sixty. But this tax and registration
were evaded and resisted by the indignant Chinese, who had never been
chronicled in this fashion by their own princes; the Emperor Kanghí,
therefore, abolished the capitation tax. It was not till about this
time that the Manchus had subdued and pacified the southern provinces,
and it is not improbable that this census, and the survey taken by
the Jesuits, were among their acts of sovereignty. Finding the people
unwilling to be registered, the poll tax was merged in the land tax,
and no census ordered during the reign of Yungching, till Kienlung
revived it in order to have some guide in apportioning relief during
seasons of distress and scarcity, establishing granaries, and aiding
the police in their duties. Many, therefore, who would do all in their
power to prevent their names being taken, when they were liable to be
taxed or called on to do military service, could have no objection to
come forward, when the design of the census was to benefit themselves.
It matters very little, however, for what object the census was taken,
if there is reason to believe it to have been accurate. It might
indeed act as a stimulus to multiply names and figures whom there were
no people to represent, as the principle of paying the marshals a
percentage on the numbers they reported did in some parts of New York
State in 1840.
The three next numbers (9, 10, and 11), are taken from De Guignes,
who quotes Amiot, but gives no Chinese authorities. The last is
given in full by De Guignes, and both this and that of Allerstein,
dated twenty years after, are introduced into the table. There are
some discrepancies between these two and the census of 1753, taken
from the _General Statistics_, which cannot easily be reconciled.
The internal evidence is in favor of the latter, over the census of
1743; it is taken from a new edition of the _Ta Tsing Hwui Tien_,
or ‘General Statistics of the Empire,’ and the increase during the
forty-two years which had elapsed since the last census is regular
in all the provinces, with the exception of Shantung and Kiangnan.
The extraordinary fertility of these provinces would easily induce
immigration, while in the war of conquest, their populousness and
wealth attracted the armies of the Manchus, and the destruction of
life was disproportionably great. The smaller numbers given to the
western and southern provinces correspond moreover to the opposition
experienced in those regions. On the whole, the census taken in 1753
compares very well with that of 1711, and both of them bear an aspect
of verity, which does not belong to the table of 1743 quoted by De
Guignes.
From 1711 to 1753, the population doubled itself in about twenty-two
years, premising that the whole country was faithfully registered at
the first census. For instance, the province of Kweichau, in 1711,
presents on the average a mere fraction of a little more than a single
person to two square miles; while in 1753 it had increased in the
unexampled ratio of three to a square mile, which is doubling its
population every seven years; Kwangtung, Kwangsí, and Kansuh (all
of them containing to this day, partially subdued tribes), had also
multiplied their numbers in nearly the same proportion, owing in
great measure, probably, to the more extended census than to the mere
increase of population.
~COMPARISON OF LATER CENSUSES.~
The amounts for 1736, three of 1743, and those of 1760, 1761, and
1762 (Nos. 9, 10, 11, 12, 15, 16, and 17), are all extracted from De
Guignes, who took them from the _Mémoires sur les Chinois_. The last,
that of 1762, is given in detail in the table. The discrepancy of
sixty millions between that given by Amiot for 1760, and that by Dr.
Morrison for the same year, is owing, there can be little doubt, to
foreigners, and not to an error of the Chinese. The work from which Dr.
Morrison extracted his estimate for that year was published in 1790,
but the census was taken between 1760 and 1765. The same work contains
the census of 1711 (No. 8), quoted by him, and there is good cause for
believing that Amiot’s or Grosier’s estimate of 157,343,975 for 1743,
is the very same census, he having multiplied the number 28,605,716 by
five, supposing them to have been families and not individuals. The
three ascribed to the year 1743, are probably all derived from the same
native authorities by different individuals.
The three dated in 1760, 1761, and 1762, are harmonious with each
other; but if they are taken, those of 1753 and 1760, extracted from
the _Yih Tung Chí_ by Dr. Morrison, must be rejected, which are far
more reasonable, and correspond better with the preceding one of 1711.
It may be remarked, that by reckoning five persons to a family in
calculating the census of 1753, as Amiot does for 1743, the population
would be 189,223,820 instead of 103,050,060, as given in the table.
This explains the apparent decrease of fifty millions. All the
discrepancies between these various tables and censuses must not be
charged upon the Chinese, since it is by no means easy to ascertain
their modes of taking the census and their use of terms. In the tables,
for example, they employ the phrase _jin-ting_, for a male over 15
years of age, as the integer; this has, then, to be multiplied by
some factor of increase to get at the total population; and this last
figure must be obtained elsewhere. It must not be overlooked that the
object in taking a census being to calculate the probable revenue by
enumerating the taxable persons, the margin of error and deficiency
depends on the peace of the state at the time, and not chiefly on the
estimate of five or more to a household.
The amount for 1736 corresponds sufficiently closely with that for
1743; and reckoning the same number of persons in a family in 1753,
that tallies well enough with those for 1760, 1761, and 1762, the whole
showing a gradual increase for twenty-five years. But all of them,
except that of 1753, are probably rated too high. That for 1762 (No.
17), has been justly considered as one of the most authentic.
The amount given by “Z.” of Berlin (No. 18), of 155-1/3 millions for
1790 is quoted in the _Chinese Repository_, but the writer states
no authorities, was probably never in China, and as it appears at
present, is undeserving the least notice. That given by Dr. Morrison
for 1792 (No. 19), the year before Lord Macartney’s embassy, is quoted
from an edition of that date, but probably was really taken in 1765
or thereabouts, but he did not publish it in detail.[152] It is
probably much nearer the truth than the amount of 333 millions by the
commissioner Chau to the English ambassador. This estimate has had much
more respect paid to it as an authentic document than it deserved.
The Chinese commissioner would naturally wish to exalt his country in
the eyes of its far-travelled visitors, and not having the official
returns to refer to, would not be likely to state them less than they
were. He gave the population of the provinces in round numbers, perhaps
altogether from his own memory, aided by those of his attendant clerks,
with the impression that his hearers would never be able to refer to
the original native authorities.
The next one quoted (No. 21) is the most satisfactory of all the
censuses in Chinese works, and was considered by both the Morrisons
and by Dr. Bridgman, editor of the _Chinese Repository_, as “the most
accurate that has yet been given of the population.”
In questions of this nature, one well authenticated table is worth a
score of doubtful origin. It has been shown how apocryphal are many of
the statements given in foreign books, but with the census of 1812, the
source of error which is chiefly to be guarded against is the average
given to a family. This is done by the Chinese themselves on no uniform
plan, and it may be the case that the estimate of individuals from
the number of families is made in separate towns, from an intimate
acquaintance with the particular district, which would be less liable
to error than a general average. The number of families given in the
census of 1753, is 37,785,552, which is more than one-third of the
population.
~THE FOUR MOST RELIABLE CENSUSES.~
The four censuses which deserve the most credit, so far as the sources
are considered, are those of 1711, 1753, 1792, and 1812 (_i.e._, Nos.
8, 13, 19, and 21); these, when compared, show the following rate of
increase:
From 1711 to 1753, the population increased 74,222,602, which was an
annual advance of 1,764,824 inhabitants, or a little more than six
per cent. per annum for forty-two years. This high rate, it must be
remembered, does not take into account the more thorough subjugation
of the south and west at the later date, when the Manchus could safely
enrol large districts, where in 1711 they would have found so much
difficulty that they would not have attempted it.
From 1753 to 1792, the increase was 104,636,882, or an annual advance
of 2,682,997 inhabitants, or about 2-1/2 per cent. per annum for
thirty-nine years. During this period, the country enjoyed almost
uninterrupted peace under the vigorous sway of Kienlung, and the
unsettled regions of the south and west rapidly filled up.
From 1792 to 1812, the increase was 54,126,679, or an annual advance
of 2,706,333--not quite one per cent. per annum--for twenty years.
At the same rate of progress the present population would amount
to over 450,000,000, and this might have been the case had not the
Tai-ping rebellion reduced the numbers. An enumeration (No. 22), was
published by the Russian Professor of Chinese Vassilivitch in 1868 as
a translation from official documents. Foreigners have had greater
opportunities for travel through the country, between the years 1840
to 1880, and have ascertained the enormous depopulation in some places
caused by wars, short supplies of food in consequence of scarcity
of laborers, famines, or brigandage, each adding its own power of
destruction at different places and times. The conclusion will not
completely satisfy any inquirer, but the population of the Empire
cannot now reasonably be estimated as high as the census of 1812, by
at least twenty-five millions. The last in the list of these censuses
(No. 23), is added as an example of the efforts of intelligent persons
residing in China to come to a definite and independent conclusion on
this point from such data as they can obtain. The Imperial Customs’
Service has been able to command the best native assistance in their
researches, and the table of population given above from the _Gotha
Almanac_ is the summary of what has been ascertained. The population
of extra-provincial China is really unknown at present. Manchuria is
put down at twelve millions by one author, and three or four millions,
by another, without any official authority for either; and all those
vast regions in Ílí and Tibet may easily be set down at from twelve
to fifteen millions. To sum up, one must confess that if the Chinese
censuses are worth but little, compared with those taken in European
states, they are better than the guesses of foreigners who have never
been in the country, or who have travelled only partially in it.
~PRESUMPTIVE EVIDENCE IN THEIR FAVOR.~
The Chinese are doubtless one of the most conceited nations on the
earth, but with all their vanity, they have never bethought themselves
of rating their population twenty-five or thirty per cent. higher than
they suppose it to be, for the purpose of exalting themselves in the
eyes of foreigners or in their own. Except in one case none of the
estimates were presented to, or intended to be known by foreigners.
The distances in _li_ between places given in Chinese itineraries
correspond very well with the real distances; the number of districts,
towns, and villages in the departments and provinces, as stated in
their local and general topographical works, agree with the actual
examination, so far as it can be made: why should their censuses be
charged with gross error, when, however much we may doubt them, we
cannot disprove them, and the weight of evidence derived from actual
observation rather confirms them than otherwise; and while their
account of towns, villages, distances, etc., are unhesitatingly adopted
until better can be obtained? Some discrepancies in the various tables
are ascribable to foreigners, and some of the censuses are incomplete,
or the year cannot be precisely fixed, both of which vitiate the
deductions made from them as to the rate of increase. Some reasons for
believing that the highest population ascribed to the Chinese Empire is
not greater than the country can support, will first be stated, and the
objections against receiving the censuses then considered.[153]
~DENSITY OF POPULATIONS IN EUROPE AND CHINA.~
The area of the Eighteen Provinces is rather imperfectly given at
1,348,870 square miles, and the average population, therefore, for
the whole, in 1812, was 268 persons on every square mile; that of the
nine eastern provinces in and near the Great Plain, comprising 502,192
square miles, or two-fifths of the whole, is 458 persons, and the nine
southern and western provinces, constituting the other three-fifths, is
154 to a square mile. The surface and fertility of the country in these
two portions differ so greatly, as to lead one to look for results
like these. The areas of some European states and their population,
are added to assist in making a comparison with China, and coming to a
clearer idea about their relative density.
--------------+---------+------------+---------+-----------------
States. | Area. |Population. | Average | Census of
| | |to sq. m.|
--------------+---------+------------+---------+-----------------
France | 204,092 | 36,905,788 | 182 | December, 1876.
Germany | 212,091 | 45,194,172 | 213 | December, 1880.
Great Britain | 121,608 | 35,246,562 | 289 | April, 1881.
Italy | 114,296 | 28,437,091 | 249 | December, 1879.
Holland | 20,497 | 4,060,580 | 198 | December, 1880.
Spain | 190,625 | 16,053,961 | 84 | December, 1877.
Japan | 160,474 | 34,338,479 | 213 | 1877.
Bengal | 156,200 | 68,750,747 | 440 | 1881.
--------------+---------+------------+---------+-----------------
All these are regarded as well settled countries, but England and
Bengal are the only ones which exceed that of China, taken as a whole,
while none of them come up to the average of the eastern provinces.
All of them, China included, fall far short, however, of the average
population on a square mile of the kingdoms of Judah and Israel, in
the reigns of Abijah and Jeroboam, if the 1,200,000 men brought into
the field by them can be taken as a ratio of the whole number of
inhabitants; or if the accounts given by Josephus of the density in his
day are trustworthy. In estimating the capabilities of these European
countries to support a dense population, allowances must be made for
roads, pasture-lands, and parks of noblemen, all of which afford little
or no food.
In England and Wales, there are nearly twenty-nine millions of acres
under cultivation, seventeen millions of which are pasture-lands,
and only ten millions devoted to grain and vegetables; the other
two millions consist of fallow-ground, hop-beds, etc. One author
estimates that in England 42 acres in a hundred, and in Ireland 64, are
pastures--a little more than half of the whole. There are, then, on the
average about two acres of land for the support of each individual, or
rather less than this, if the land required for the food of horses be
subtracted. It has been calculated that eight men can be fed on the
same amount of land that one horse requires; and that four acres of
pasture-land will furnish no more food for man than one of ploughed
land. The introduction of railroads has superseded the use of horses to
such an extent that it is estimated there are only 200,000 horses now
in England, instead of a million in 1830. If, therefore, one-half the
land appropriated to pasture should be devoted to grain, and no more
horses and dogs raised than a million of acres could support, England
and Wales could easily maintain a population of more than four hundred
to a square mile, supposing them to be willing to live on what the land
and water can furnish.
The Irish consume a greater proportion of vegetables than the English,
even since the improvement by emigration after 1851; many of these
live a beggarly life upon half an acre, and even less, and seldom
taste animal food. The quantity of land under cultivation in Belgium
is about fifteen-seventeenths of the whole, which gives an average of
about two acres to each person, or the same as in England. In these
two countries, the people consume more meat than in Ireland, and the
amount of land occupied for pasturage is in nearly equal proportions in
Belgium and England. In France, the average of cultivated land is 1-2/3
acre; in Holland, 1-4/5 acre to each person.
~AREA AND VALUE OF ARABLE LAND IN CHINA.~
If the same proportion between the arable and uncultivated land exists
in China as in England, namely one-fourth, there are about six hundred
and fifty millions of acres under cultivation in China; and we are
not left altogether to conjecture, for by a report made to Kienlung
in 1745, it appears that the area of the land under cultivation was
595,598,221 acres; a subsequent calculation places it at 640,579,381
acres, which is almost the same proportion as in England. Estimating it
at six hundred and fifty millions--for it has since increased rather
than diminished--it gives one acre and four-fifths to every person,
which is by no means a small supply for the Chinese, considering that
there are no cultivated pastures or meadows.
In comparing the population of different countries, the manner of
living and the articles of food in use, form such important elements
of the calculation, in ascertaining whether the country be overstocked
or not, that a mere tabular view of the number of persons on a square
mile is an imperfect criterion of the amount of inhabitants the land
would maintain if they consumed the same food, and lived in the same
manner in all of them. Living as the Chinese, Hindus, Japanese, and
other Asiatics do, chiefly upon vegetables, the country can hardly be
said to maintain more than one-half or one-third as many people on a
square mile as it might do, if their energies were developed to the
same extent with those of the English or Belgians. The population of
these eastern regions has been repressed by the combined influences of
ignorance, insecurity of life and property, religious prejudices, vice,
and wars, so that the land has never maintained as many inhabitants as
one would have otherwise reasonably expected therefrom.
Nearly all the cultivated soil in China is employed in raising food
for man. Woollen garments and leather are little used, while cotton
and mulberry cultivation take up only a small proportion of the soil.
There is not, so far as is known, a single acre of land sown with
grass-seed, and therefore almost no human labor is devoted to raising
food for animals, which will not also serve to sustain man. Horses are
seldom used for pomp or war, for travelling or carrying burdens, but
mules, camels, asses, and goats are employed for transportation and
other purposes north of the Yangtsz’ River. Horses are fed on cooked
rice, bran, sorghum seed, pulse, oats, and grass cut along the banks of
streams, or on hillsides. In the southern and eastern provinces, all
animals are rare, the transport of goods and passengers being done by
boats or by men. The natives make no use of butter, cheese, or milk,
and the few cattle employed in agriculture easily gather a living on
the waste ground around the villages. In the south, the buffalo is
applied more than the ox to plough the rice fields, and the habits of
this animal make it cheaper to keep him in good condition, while he can
also do more work. The winter stock is grass cut upon the hills, straw,
bean stalks, and vegetables. No wool being wanted for making cloth,
flocks of sheep and goats are seldom seen--it may almost be said are
unknown in the east and south.
No animal is reared cheaper than the hog; hatching and raising ducks
affords employment to thousands of people; hundreds of these fowl
gather their own food along the river shore, being easily attended by a
single keeper. Geese and poultry are also cheaply reared. In fishing,
which is carried on to an enormous extent, no pasture-grounds, no
manuring, no barns, are needed, nor are taxes paid by the cultivator
and consumer.
While the people get their animal food in these ways, its preparation
takes away the least possible amount of cultivated soil. The space
occupied for roads and pleasure-grounds is insignificant, but there is
perhaps an amount appropriated for burial places quite equal to the
area used for those purposes in European countries; it is, however,
less valuable land, and much of it would be useless for culture,
even if otherwise unoccupied. Graves are dug on hills, in ravines
and copses, and wherever they will be retired and dry; or if in the
ancestral field, they do not hinder the crop growing close around them.
Moreover, it is very common to preserve the coffin in temples and
cemeteries until it is decayed, partly in order to save the expense
of a grave, and partly to worship the remains, or preserve them until
gathered to their fathers, in their distant native places. They are
often placed in the corners of the fields, or under precipices where
they remain till dust returns to dust, and bones and wood both moulder
away. These and other customs limit the consumption of land for graves
much more than would be supposed, when one sees, as at Macao, almost as
much space taken up by the dead for a grave as by the living for a hut.
The necropolis of Canton occupies the hills north of the city, of which
not one-fiftieth part could ever have been used for agriculture, but
where cattle are allowed to graze, as much as if there were no tombs.
Under its genial and equable climate, more than three-fourths of
the area of China Proper produces two crops annually. In Kwangtung,
Kwangsí, and Fuhkien, two crops of rice are taken year after year
from the low lands; while in the loess regions of the northwest, a
three-fold return from the grain fields is annually looked for, if the
rain-fall is not withheld. In the winter season, in the neighborhood of
towns, a third crop of sweet potatoes, cabbages, turnips, or some other
vegetable is grown. De Guignes estimates the returns of a rice crop at
ten for one, which, with the vegetables, will give full twenty-five
fold from an acre in a year; few parts, however, yield this increase.
Little or no land lies fallow, for constant manuring and turning of
the soil prevents the necessity of repose. The diligence exhibited in
collecting and applying manure is well known, and if all this industry
result in the production of two crops instead of one, it really
doubles the area under cultivation, when its superficies are compared
with those of other countries. If the amount of land which produces
two crops be estimated at one-fourth of the whole (and it is perhaps
as near one-third), the area of arable land in the provinces may be
considered as representing a total of 812 millions of acres, or 2-3/4
acres to an individual. The land is not, however, cut up into such
small farms as to prevent its being managed as well as the people know
how to stock and cultivate it; manual labor is the chief dependence of
the farmer, fewer cattle, carts, ploughs, and machines being employed
than in other countries. In rice fields no animals are used after the
wet land has received the shoots, transplanting, weeding, and reaping
being done by men.
In no other country besides Japan is so much food derived from the
water. Not only are the coasts, estuaries, rivers, and lakes, covered
with fishing-boats of various sizes, which are provided with everything
fitted for the capture of whatever lives in the waters, but the spawn
of fish is collected and reared. Rice fields are often converted into
pools in the winter season, and stocked with fish; and the tanks dug
for irrigation usually contain fish. By all these means, an immense
supply of food is obtained at a cheap rate, which is eaten fresh or
preserved with or without salt, and sent over the Empire, at a cost
which places it within the reach of all above beggary. Other articles
of food, both animal and vegetable, such as dogs, game, worms, spring
greens, tripang, leaves, etc., do indeed compose part of their meals,
but it is comparatively an inconsiderable fraction, and need not enter
into the calculation. Enough has been stated to show that the land is
abundantly able to support the population ascribed to it, even with all
the drawbacks known to exist; and that, taking the highest estimate to
be true, and considering the mode of living, the average population on
a square mile in China is less than in several European countries.
~TENDENCIES TO INCREASE OF POPULATION.~
The political and social causes which tend to multiply the inhabitants
are numerous and powerful. The failure of male posterity to continue
the succession of the family, and worship at the tombs of parents, is
considered by all classes as one of the most afflictive misfortunes
of life; the laws allow unlimited facilities of adoption, and secure
the rights of those taken into the family in this way. The custom
of betrothing children, and the obligation society imposes upon the
youth when arrived at maturity, to fulfil the contracts entered into
by their parents, acts favorably to the establishment of families
and the nurture of children, and restricts polygamy. Parents desire
children for a support in old age, as there is no legal or benevolent
provision for aged poverty, and public opinion stigmatizes the man who
allows his aged or infirm parents to suffer when he can help them. The
law requires the owners of domestic slaves to provide husbands for
their females, and prohibits the involuntary or forcible separation
of husband and wife, or parents and children, when the latter are
of tender age. All these causes and influences tend to increase
population, and equalize the consumption and use of property more,
perhaps, than in any other land.
The custom of families remaining together tends to the same result.
The local importance of a large family in the country is weakened by
its male members removing to town, or emigrating; consequently, the
patriarch of three or four generations endeavors to retain his sons
and grandsons around him, their houses joining his, and they and
their families forming a social, united company. Such cases as those
mentioned in the _Sacred Commands_ are of course rare, where nine
generations of the family of Chang Kung-í inhabited one house, or of
Chin, at whose table seven hundred mouths were daily fed,[154] but it
is the tendency of society. This remark does not indicate that great
landed proprietors exist, whose hereditary estates are secured by
entail to the great injury of the state, as in Great Britain, for the
farms are generally small and cultivated by the owner or on the metayer
system. Families are supported on a more economical plan, the claims
of kindred are better enforced, the land is cultivated with more care,
and the local importance of the family perpetuated. This is, however,
a very different system from that advocated by Fourier in France, or
Greeley in America, for these little communities are placed under one
natural head, whose authority is acknowledged and upheld, and his
indignation feared. Workmen of the same profession form unions, each
person contributing a certain sum on the promise of assistance when
sick or disabled, and this custom prevents and alleviates a vast amount
of poverty.
~RESTRICTIONS UPON EMIGRATION.~
The obstacles put in the way of emigrating beyond sea, both in law
and prejudice, operate to deter respectable persons from leaving
their native land. Necessity has made the law a dead letter, and
thousands annually leave their homes. No better evidence of the dense
population can be offered to those acquainted with Chinese feelings
and character, than the extent of emigration. “What stronger proof,”
observes Medhurst, “of the dense population of China could be afforded
than the fact, that emigration is going on in spite of restrictions and
disabilities, from a country where learning and civilization reign,
and where all the dearest interests and prejudices of the emigrants
are found, to lands like Burmah, Siam, Cambodia, Tibet, Manchuria,
and the Indian Archipelago, where comparative ignorance and barbarity
prevail, and where the extremes of a tropical or frozen region are
to be exchanged for a mild and temperate climate? Added to this
consideration, that not a single female is permitted or ventures to
leave the country, when consequently, all the tender attachments that
bind heart to heart must be burst asunder, and, perhaps, forever.”[155]
Moreover, if they return with wealth enough to live upon, they are
liable to the vexatious extortions of needy relatives, sharpers, and
police, who have a handle for their fleecing whip in the law against
leaving the country;[156] although this clause has been neutralized by
subsequent acts, and is not in force, the power of public opinion is
against going. A case occurred in 1832, at Canton, where the son of a
Chinese living in Calcutta, who had been sent home by his parent with
his mother, to perform the usual ceremonies in the ancestral hall,
was seized by his uncle as he was about to be married, on the pretext
that his father had unequally divided the paternal inheritance; he
was obliged to pay a thousand dollars to free himself. Soon after his
marriage, a few sharpers laid hold of him and bore him away in a sedan,
as he was walking near his house, but his cries attracted the police,
who carried them all to the magistrates, where he was liberated--after
being obliged to fee his deliverers.[157] Another case occurred in
Macao in 1838. A man had been living several years in Singapore as
a merchant, and when he settled in Macao still kept up an interest
in the trade with that place. Accounts of his great wealth became
rumored abroad, and he was seriously annoyed by relatives. One night,
a number of thieves, dressed like police-runners, came to his house to
search for opium, and their boisterous manner terrified him to such
a degree, that in order to escape them he jumped from the terrace
upon the hard gravelled court-yard, and broke his leg, of which he
shortly afterward died. A third case is mentioned, where the returned
emigrants, consisting of a man and his wife, who was a Malay, and two
children, were rescued from extortion, when before the magistrate, by
the kindness of his wife and mother, who wished to see the foreign
woman.[158] Such instances are now unknown, owing to the increase of
emigration; they were, indeed, never numerically great, on account of
the small number of those who came back.
The anxiety of the government to provide stores of food for times of
scarcity, shows rather its fear of the disastrous results following
a short crop--such as the gathering of clamorous crowds of starving
poor, the increase of bandits and disorganization of society--than
any peculiar care of the rulers, or that these storehouses really
supply deficiencies. The evil consequences resulting from an overgrown
population are experienced in one or another part of the provinces
almost every year; and drought, inundations, locusts, mildew, or other
natural causes, often give rise to insurrections and disturbances.
There can be no doubt, however, that, without adding a single acre to
the area of arable land, these evils would be materially alleviated,
if the intercommunication of traders and their goods, between distant
parts of the country, were more frequent, speedy, and safe; but this
is not likely to be the case until both rulers and ruled make greater
advances in just government, science, obedience, and regard for each
other’s right.
It would be a satisfaction if foreigners could verify any part of the
census. But this is, at present, impossible. They cannot examine the
records in the office of the Board of Revenue, nor can they ascertain
the population in a given district from the archives in the hands of
the local authorities, or the mode of taking it. Neither can they go
through a village or town to count the number of houses and their
inhabitants, and calculate from actual examination of a few parts
what the whole would be. Wherever foreigners have journeyed, there
has appeared much the same succession of waste land, hilly regions,
cultivated plains, and wooded heights, as in other countries, with
an abundance of people, but not more than the land could support, if
properly tilled.
~METHOD OF TAKING THE CENSUS.~
The people are grouped into hamlets and villages, under the control
of village elders and officers. In the district of Nanhai, which
forms the western part of the city of Canton, and the surrounding
country for more than a hundred square miles, there are one hundred
and eighty _hiang_ or villages; the population of each _hiang_ varies
from two hundred and upwards to one hundred thousand, but ordinarily
ranges between three hundred and thirty-five hundred. If each of the
eighty-eight districts in the province of Kwangtung contains the
same number of _hiang_, there will be, including the district towns,
15,928 villages, towns, and cities in all, with an average population
of twelve hundred inhabitants to each. From the top of the hills
on Dane’s Island, at Whampoa, thirty-six towns and villages can be
counted, of which Canton is one; and four of these contain from twelve
to fifteen hundred houses. The whole district of Hiangshan, in which
Macao lies, is also well covered with villages, though their exact
number is not known. The island of Amoy contains more than fourscore
villages and towns, and this island forms only a part of the district
of Tung-ngan. The banks of the river leading from Amoy up to Changchau
fu, are likewise well peopled. The environs of Ningpo and Shanghai are
closely settled, though that is no more than one always expects near
large cities, where the demand for food in the city itself causes the
vicinity to be well peopled and tilled. In a notice of an irruption of
the sea in 1819, along the coast of Shantung, it was reported that a
hundred and forty villages were laid under water.
Marco Polo describes the mode followed in the days of Kublai khan: “It
is the custom for every burgess of the city, and in fact for every
description of person in it, to write over his door his own name, the
name of his wife, and those of his children, his slaves, and all the
inmates of his house, and also the number of animals that he keeps.
And if any one dies in the house, then the name of that person is
erased, and if a child is born its name is added. So in this way the
sovereign is able to know exactly the population of the city. And this
is the practice throughout all Manzi and Cathay.”[159] This custom was
observed long before the Mongol conquest, and is followed at present;
so that it is perhaps easier to take a census in China than in most
European countries.
The law upon this subject is contained in Secs. LXXV. and LXXVI. of
the statutes. It enacts various penalties for not registering the
members of a family, and its provisions all go to show that the people
are desirous rather of evading the census than of exaggerating it.
When a family has omitted to make any entry, the head of it is liable
to be punished with one hundred blows if he is a freeholder, and with
eighty if he is not. If the master of a family has among his household
another distinct family whom he omits to register, the punishment is
the same as in the last clause, with a modification, according as the
unregistered persons and family are relatives or strangers. Persons
in government employ omitting to register their families, are less
severely punished. A master of family failing to register all the males
in his household who are liable to public service, shall be punished
with from sixty to one hundred blows, according to the demerits of
the offence; this clause was in effect repealed, when the land tax
was substituted for the capitation tax. Omissions, from neglect
or inadvertency to register all the individuals and families in a
village or town, on the part of the headmen or government clerks, are
punishable with different degrees of severity. All persons whatsoever
are to be registered according to their accustomed occupations or
professions, whether civil or military, whether couriers, artisans,
physicians, astrologers, laborers, musicians, or of any other
denomination whatever; and subterfuges in representing one’s self as
belonging to a profession not liable to public service, are visited
as usual with the bamboo; persons falsely describing themselves as
belonging to the army, in order to evade public service, are banished
as well as beaten.[160] From these clauses it is seen that the Manchus
have extended the enumeration to classes which were exempted in the
Han, Tang, and other dynasties, and thus come nearer to the actual
population.
~ITS PROBABLE ACCURACY.~
“In the Chinese government,” observes Dr. Morrison, “there appears
great regularity and system. Every district has its appropriate
officers, every street its constable, and every ten houses their
tything man. Thus they have all the requisite means of ascertaining
the population with considerable accuracy. Every family is required
to have a board always hanging up in the house, and ready for the
inspection of authorized officers, on which the names of all persons,
men, women, and children, in the house are inscribed. This board is
called _mun-pai_ or ‘door-tablet,’ because when there are women and
children within, the officers are expected to take the account from
the board at the door. Were all the inmates of a family faithfully
inserted, the amount of the population would, of course, be ascertained
with great accuracy. But it is said that names are sometimes omitted
through neglect or design; others think that the account of persons
given in is generally correct.” The door-tablets are sometimes pasted
on the door, thus serving as a kind of door-plate; in these cases
correctness of enumeration is readily secured, for the neighbors are
likely to know if the record is below the truth, and the householder
is not likely to exaggerate the taxable inmates under his roof. I have
read these _mun-pai_ on the doors of a long row of houses; they were
printed blanks filled in, and then pasted outside for the _pao-kiah_
or tithing man to examine. Both Dr. Morrison and his son, than whom no
one has had better opportunities to know the true state of the case,
or been more desirous of dealing fairly with the Chinese, regarded the
censuses given in the _General Statistics_ as more trustworthy than any
other documents available.
~EVIDENCES IN FAVOR OF THE CENSUS.~
In conclusion, it may be asked, are the results of the enumeration of
the people, as contained in the statistical works published by the
government, to be rejected or doubted, therefore, because the Chinese
officers do not wish to ascertain the exact population; or because
they are not capable of doing it; or, lastly, because they wish to
impose upon foreign powers by an arithmetical array of millions they
do not possess? The question seems to hang upon this trilemma. It
is acknowledged that they falsify or garble statements in a manner
calculated to throw doubt upon everything they write, as in the
reports of victories and battles sent to the Emperor, in the memorials
upon the opium trade, in their descriptions of natural objects in
books of medicine, and in many other things. But the question is as
applicable to China as to France: is the estimated population of
France in 1801 to be called in question, because the _Moniteur_ gave
false accounts of Napoleon’s battles in 1813? It would be a strange
combination of conceit and folly, for a ministry composed of men able
to carry on all the details of a complicated government like that of
China, to systematically exaggerate the population, and then proceed,
for more than a century, with taxation, disbursements, and official
appointments, founded upon these censuses. Somebody at least must know
them to be worthless, and the proof that they were so, must, one would
think, ere long be apparent. The provinces and departments have been
divided and subdivided since the Jesuits made their survey, because
they were becoming too densely settled for the same officers to rule
over them.
Still less will any one assert that the Chinese are not capable of
taking as accurate a census as they are of measuring distances, or
laying out districts and townships. Errors may be found in the former
as well as in the latter, and doubtless are so; for it is not contended
that the four censuses of 1711, 1753, 1792, and 1812 are as accurate
as those now taken in England, France, or the United States, but
that they are the best data extant, and that if they are rejected we
leave tolerable evidence and take up with that which is doubtful and
suppositive. The censuses taken in China since the Christian era are,
on the whole, more satisfactory than those of all other nations put
together up to the Reformation, and further careful research will no
doubt increase our respect for them.
Ere long we may be able to traverse a census in its details of record
and deduction, and thus satisfy a reasonable curiosity, especially
as to the last reported total after the carnage of the rebellion. On
the other hand, it may be stated that in the last census, the entire
population of Manchuria, Koko-nor, Ílí, and Mongolia, is estimated at
only 2,167,286 persons, and nearly all the inhabitants of those vast
regions are subject to the Emperor. The population of Tibet is not
included in any census, its people not being taxable. It is doubtful if
an enumeration of any part of the extra provincial territory has ever
been taken, inasmuch as the Mongol tribes, and still less the Usbeck
or other Moslem races, are unused to such a thing, and would not be
numbered. Yet, the Chinese cannot be charged with exaggeration, when
good judges, as Klaproth and others, reckon the whole at between six
and seven millions; and Khoten alone, one author states, has three and
a half millions. No writer of importance estimates the inhabitants
of these regions as high as thirty millions--as does R. Mont.
Martin--which would be more than ten to a square mile, excluding Gobi;
while Siberia (though not so well peopled) has only 3,611,300 persons
on an area of 2,649,600 square miles, or 1-1/3 to each square mile.
The reasons just given why the Chinese desire posterity are not all
those which have favored national increase. The uninterrupted peace
which the country enjoyed between the years 1700 and 1850 operated
to greatly develop its resources. Every encouragement has been given
to all classes to multiply and fill the land. Polygamy, slavery, and
prostitution, three social evils which check increase, have been
circumscribed in their effects. Early betrothment and poverty do much
to prevent the first; female slaves can be and are usually married;
while public prostitution is reduced by a separation of the sexes and
early marriages. No fears of overpassing the supply of food restrain
the people from rearing families, though the Emperor Kienlung issued
a proclamation in 1793, calling upon all ranks of his subjects to
economize the gifts of heaven, lest, erelong, the people exceed the
means of subsistence.
It is difficult to see what this or that reason or objection has to
do with the subject, except where the laws of population are set at
defiance, which is not the case in China. Food and work, peace and
security, climate and fertile soil, not universities or steamboats,
are the encouragements needed for the multiplication of mankind;
though they do not have that effect in all countries (as in Mexico
and Brazil), it is no reason why they should not in others. There
are grounds for believing that not more than two-thirds of the whole
population of China were included in the census of 1711, but that
allowance cannot be made for Ireland in 1785; and consequently, her
annual percentage of increase, up to 1841, would then be greater than
China, during the forty-two years ending with 1753. McCulloch quotes
De Guignes approvingly, but the Frenchman takes the rough estimate of
333,000,000 given to Macartney, which is less trustworthy than that
of 307,467,200, and compares it with Grosier’s of 157,343,975, which
is certainly wrong through his misinterpretation. De Guignes proceeds
from the data in his possession in 1802 (which were less than those now
available), and from his own observations in travelling through the
country in 1796, to show the improbability of the estimated population.
But the observations made in journeys, taken as were those of the
English and Dutch embassies, though they passed through some of the
best provinces, cannot be regarded as good evidence against official
statistics.
Would any one suppose, in travelling from Boston to Chatham, and
then from Albany to Buffalo, along the railroad, that Massachusetts
contained, in 1870, exactly double the population on a square mile of
New York? So, in going from Peking to Canton, the judgment which six
intelligent travellers might form of the population of China could
easily be found to differ by one-half. De Guignes says, after comparing
China with Holland and France, “All these reasons clearly demonstrate
that the population of China does not exceed that of other countries;”
and such is in truth the case, if the kind of food, number of crops,
and materials of dress be taken into account. His remarks on the
population and productiveness of the country are, like his whole work,
replete with good sense and candor; but some of his deductions would
have been different, had he been in possession of all the data since
obtained.[161] The discrepancies between the different censuses have
been usually considered a strong internal evidence against them, and
they should receive due consideration. The really difficult point is to
fix the percentage that must be allowed for the classes not included as
taxable, and the power of the government to enumerate those who wished
to avoid a census and the subsequent taxation.
~POSSIBILITIES OF ERROR.~
After all these reasons for receiving the total of 1812 as the best
one, there are, on the other hand, two principal objections against
taking the Chinese census as altogether trustworthy. The first is the
enormous averages of 850, 705, and 671 inhabitants on a square mile,
severally apportioned to Kiangsu, Nganhwui, and Chehkiang, or, what
is perhaps a fairer calculation, of 458 persons to the nine eastern
provinces. Whatever amount of circumstantial evidence may be brought
forward in confirmation of the census as a whole, and explanation of
the mode of taking it, a more positive proof seems to be necessary
before giving implicit credence to this result. Such a population on
such an extensive area is marvellous, notwithstanding the fertility
of the soil, facilities of navigation, and salubrity of the climate
of these regions, although acknowledged to be almost unequalled.
While we admit the full force of all that has been urged in support
of the census, and are willing to take it as the best document on the
subject extant, it is desirable to have proofs derived from personal
observation, and to defer the settlement of this question until better
opportunities are afforded. So high an average is, indeed, not without
example. Captain Wilkes ascertained, in 1840, that one of the islands
of the Fiji group supported a population of over a thousand on a square
mile. On Lord North’s Island, in the Pelew group, the crew of the
American whaler Mentor ascertained there were four hundred inhabitants
living on half a square mile. These, and many other islands in that
genial clime, contain a population far exceeding that of any large
country, and each separate community is obliged to depend wholly on
its own labor. They cannot, however, be cited as altogether parallel
cases, though if it be true, as Barrow says, “that an acre of cotton
will clothe two or three hundred persons,” not much more land need be
occupied with cotton or mulberry plants, for clothing in China, than in
the South Sea Islands.
The second objection against receiving the result of the census is,
that we are not well informed as to the mode of enumerating the
people by families, and the manner of taking the account, when the
patriarch of two or three generations lives in a hamlet, with all his
children and domestics around him. Two of the provisions in Sec. XXV.
of the _Code_, seem to be designed for some such state of society;
and the liability to underrate the males fit for public service, when
a capitation tax was ordered, and to overrate the inmates of such a
house, when the head of it might suppose he would thereby receive
increased aid from government when calamity overtook him, are equally
apparent. The door-tablet is also liable to mistake, and in shops
and workhouses, where the clerks and workmen live and sleep on the
premises, it is not known what kind of report of families the assessors
make. On these important points our present information is imperfect,
while the evident liability to serious error in the ultimate results
makes one hesitate. The Chinese may have taken a census satisfactory
for their purposes, showing the number of families, and the average in
each; but the point of this objection is, that we do not know how the
families are enumerated, and therefore are at fault in reckoning the
individuals. The average of persons in a household is set down at five
by the Chinese, and in England, in 1831, it was 4.7, but it is probably
less than that in a thickly settled country, if every married couple
and their children be taken as a family, whether living by themselves,
or grouped in patriarchal hamlets.
No one doubts that the population is enormous, constituting by far the
greatest assemblage of human beings using one speech ever congregated
under one monarch. To the merchants and manufacturers of the West,
the determination of this question is of some importance, and through
them to their governments. The political economist and philologist,
the naturalist and geographer, have also greater or less degrees of
interest in the contemplation of such a people, inhabiting so beautiful
and fertile a country. But the Christian philanthropist turns to the
consideration of this subject with the liveliest solicitude; for if the
weight of evidence is in favor of the highest estimate, he feels his
responsibility increase to a painful degree. The danger to this people
is furthermore greatly enhanced by the opium traffic--a trade which,
as if the Rivers Phlegethon and Lethe were united in it, carries fire
and destruction wherever it flows, and leaves a deadly forgetfulness
wherever it has passed. Let these facts appeal to all calling
themselves Christians, to send the antidote to this baleful drug, and
diffuse a knowledge of the principles of the Gospel among them, thereby
placing life as well as death before them.
~REVENUE OF THE EMPIRE.~
If the population of the Empire is not easily ascertained, a
satisfactory account of the public revenue and expenditures is still
more difficult to obtain; it possesses far less interest, of course, in
itself, and in such a country as China is subject to many variations.
The market value of the grain, silk, and other products in which a
large proportion of the taxes are paid, varies from year to year; and
although this does not materially affect the government which receives
these articles, it complicates the subject very much when attempting to
ascertain the real taxation. Statistics on these subjects are only of
recent date in Europe, and should not yet be looked for in China, drawn
up with much regard to truth. The central government requires each
province to support itself, and furnish a certain surplusage for the
maintenance of the Emperor and his court; but it is well known that his
Majesty is continually embarrassed for the want of funds, and that the
provinces do not all supply enough revenue to meet their own outlays.
~SOURCES AND AMOUNT OF REVENUE.~
The amounts given by various authors as the revenue of China at
different times, are so discordant, that a single glance shows that
they were obtained from partial or incomplete returns, or else refer
only to the surplusage sent to the capital. De Guignes remarks very
truly, that the Chinese are so fully persuaded of the riches, power,
and resources of their country, that a foreigner is likely to receive
different accounts from every native he asks; but there appears to
be no good reason why the government should falsify or abridge their
fiscal accounts. In 1587, Trigault, one of the French missionaries,
stated the revenue at only tls. 20,000,000. In 1655, Nieuhoff reckoned
it at tls. 108,000,000. About twelve years after, Magalhaens gave the
treasures of the Emperor at $20,423,962; and Le Comte, about the same
time, placed the revenue at $22,000,000, and both of them estimated
the receipts from rice, silk, etc, at $30,000,000, making the whole
revenue previous to Kanghí’s death, in 1721, between fifty and seventy
millions of dollars. Barrow reckoned the receipts from all sources
in 1796 at tls. 198,000,000, derived from a rough estimate given by
the commissioner who accompanied the embassy. Sir George Staunton
places the total sum at $330,000,000; of which $60,000,000 only were
transmitted to Peking. Medhurst, drawing his information from original
sources, thus states the principal items of the receipts:
Land taxes in money, } {
Land taxes in grain, } sent to Peking, {
Custom and transit duties, } {
Land taxes in money, { }
Grain, { kept in provinces }
{ Tls. 31,745,966 valued at $42,327,954
{ Shih 4,230,957 „ 12,692,871
{ Tls. 1,480,997 „ 1,974,662
} Tls. 28,705,125 „ 38,273,500
} Shih 31,596,569 „ 105,689,707
-------------
$200,958,694
The _shih_ of rice is estimated at $3, but this does not include the
cost of transportation to the capital.[162] At $200,000,000, the
tax received by government from each person on an average is about
sixty cents; Barrow estimates the capitation at about ninety cents.
The account of the revenue in taels from each province given in the
table of population on page 264, is extracted from the _Red Book_
for 1840;[163] the account of the revenue in rice, as stated in the
official documents for that year, is 4,114,000 shih, or about five
hundred and fifty millions of pounds, calling each _shih_ a pecul. The
manner in which the various items of the revenue are divided is thus
stated for Kwangtung, in the _Red Book_ for 1842:
Taels.
Land tax in money 1,264,304
Pawnbrokers’ taxes 5,990
Taxes at the frontier and on transportation 719,307
Retained 339,143
Miscellaneous sources 59,530
Salt department (gabel) 47,510
Revenue from customs at Canton 43,750
Other stations in the province 53,670
---------
2,533,204
This is evidently only the sum sent to the capital from this province,
ostensibly as the revenue, and which the provincial treasury must
collect. The real receipts from this province or any other cannot well
be ascertained by foreigners; it is, however, known, that in former
years, the collector of customs at Canton was obliged to remit annually
from eight hundred thousand to one million three hundred thousand
taels, and the gross receipts of his office were not far from three
millions of taels.[164] This was then the richest collectorate in the
Empire; but since the foreign trade at the open ports has been placed
under foreign supervision, the resources of the Empire have been better
reported. A recent analysis of the sources of revenue in the Eighteen
Provinces has been furnished by the customs service; it places them
under different headings from the preceding list, though the total
does not materially differ. Out of this whole amount the sum derived
from the trade in foreign shipping goes most directly to the central
exchequer.
Taels.
Land tax in money 18,000,000
_Li-kin_ or internal excise on goods 20,000,000
Import and export duties collected by foreigners 12,000,000
Import and export duties on native commerce 3,000,000
Salt gabel 5,000,000
Sales of offices and degrees 7,000,000
Sundries 1,400,000
----------
Amount paid in silver 66,400,000
Land tax paid in produce 13,100,000
----------
79,500,000
De Guignes has examined the subject of the revenue with his usual
caution, and bases his calculations on a proclamation of Kienlung in
1777, in which it was stated that the total income in bullion at that
period was tls. 27,967,000.
Taels.
Income in money as above 27,967,000
Equal revenue in kind from grain 27,967,000
Tax on the second crop in the southern provinces 21,800,000
Gabel, coal, transit duties, etc. 6,479,400
Customs at Canton 800,000
Revenue from silk, porcelain, varnish, and other manufactures 7,000,000
Adding house and shop taxes, licenses, tonnage duties, etc. 4,000,000
----------
Total revenue 89,713,400
The difference of about eighty millions of dollars between this amount
and that given by Medhurst, will not surprise one who has looked
into this perplexing matter. All these calculations are based on
approximations, which, although easily made up, cannot be verified to
our satisfaction; but all agree in placing the total amount of revenue
below that of any European government in proportion to the population.
In 1823, a paper was published by a graduate upon the fiscal condition
of the country, in which he gave a careful analysis of the receipts and
disbursements. P. P. Thoms translated it in detail, and summarized the
former under three heads of taxes reckoned at tls. 33,327,056, rice
sent to Peking 6,346,438, and supplies to army 7,227,360--in all tls.
46,900,854. Out of the first sum tls. 24,507,933 went to civilians
and the army, leaving tls. 5,819,123 for the Peking government, and
tls. 3,000,000 for the Yellow River repairs and Yuen-ming Palace. The
resources of the Empire this writer foots up at tls. 74,461,633, or
just one-half of what Medhurst gives. The extraordinary sources of
revenue which are resorted to in time of war or bad harvests, are sale
of office and honors, temporary increase of duties, and demands for
contributions from wealthy merchants and landholders. The first is the
most fruitful source, and may be regarded rather as a permanent than
a temporary expediency employed to make up deficiencies. The mines of
gold and silver, pearl fisheries in Manchuria and elsewhere, precious
stones brought from Ílí and Khoten, and other localities, furnish
several millions.
~PRINCIPAL ITEMS OF EXPENDITURE.~
The expenditures, almost every year, exceed the revenue, but how the
deficit is supplied does not clearly appear; it has been sometimes
drawn from the rich by force, at other times made good by paltering
with the currency, as in 1852-55, and again by reducing rations and
salaries. In 1832, the Emperor said the excess of disbursements was
tls. 28,000,000;[165] and, in 1836, the defalcation was still greater,
and offices and titles to the amount of tls. 10,000,000 were put up for
sale to supply it. This deficiency has become more and more alarming
since the drain of specie annually sent abroad in payment for opium
has been increased by military exactions for suppressing the rebellion
up to 1867. At that date the Empire began to recuperate. The principal
items of the expenditure are thus stated by De Guignes:
Taels.
Salary of civil and military officers, a tithe of the impost
on lands 7,773,500
Pay of 600,000 infantry, three taels per month, half in money
and half in rations 21,600,000
Pay of 242,000 cavalry, at four taels per month 11,616,000
Mounting the cavalry, twenty taels each 4,840,000
Uniforms for both arms of the service, four taels 3,368,000
Arms and ammunition 842,000
Navy, revenue cutters 13,500,000
Canals and transportation of revenue 4,000,000
Forts, artillery, and munitions of war 3,800,000
----------
71,339,500
This, according to his calculation, shows a surplus of nearly
twenty millions of taels every year. But the outlays for quelling
insurrections and transporting troops, deficiency from bad harvests,
defalcation of officers, payments to the tribes and princes in Mongolia
and Ílí, and other unusual demands, more than exceed this surplus. In
1833, the _Peking Gazette_ contained an elaborate paper on the revenue,
proposing various ways and means for increasing it. The author, named
Na, says the income from land tax, the gabel, customs and transit duty,
does not in all exceed forty millions of taels, while the expenditures
should not much transcend thirty in years of peace.[166] This places
the budget much lower than other authorities, but the censor perhaps
includes only the imperial resources, though the estimate would then
be too high. The pay and equipment of the troops is the largest item
of expenditure, and it is probable that here the apparent force and
pay are far too great, and that reductions are constantly made in this
department by compelling the soldiers to depend more and more for
support upon the plats of land belonging to them. It is considered the
best evidence of good government on the part of an officer to render
his account of the revenue satisfactorily, but from the injudicious
system which exists of combining fiscal, legislative, and judicial
functions and control in the same person, the temptations to defraud
are strong, and the peculations proportionably great.
~OFFICERS’ SALARIES AND THE LAND-TAX.~
The salaries of officers, for some reasons, are placed so low as to
prove that the legal allowances were really the nominal incomes, and
the sums set against their names in the _Red Book_ as _yang tien_, or
anti-extortion perquisites (lit., ‘nourishing frugality’), are the
salaries. That of a governor-general is from 15,000 to 25,000 taels for
the latter, and only 180 or 200 taels for the legal salary; a governor
gets 15,000 when he is alone, and 10,000 or 12,000 when under a
governor-general; a treasurer from 4,500 to 10,000; a judge from 3,000
to 8,000; a prefect from 2,000 to 4,500; district magistrates from 700
to 1,000, according to the onerousness of the post; an intendant from
3,000 to 4,500; a literary chancellor from 2,000 to 5,000; and military
men from 4,000 taels down to 100 or 150 per annum. The perquisites
of the highest and lowest officers are disproportionate, for the
people prefer to lay their important cases before the highest courts
at once, in order to avoid the expense of passing through those of a
lower grade. The personal disposition of the functionary modifies the
exactions he makes upon the people so much, that no guess can be made
as to the amount.
The land tax is the principal resource for the revenue in rural
districts, and this is well understood by all parties, so that there is
less room for exactions. The land tax is from 1-1/2 to 10 cents a _mao_
(or from 10 to 66 cents an acre), according to the quality of the land,
and difficulty of tillage; taking the average at 25 cents an acre, the
income from this source would be upward of 150 millions of dollars.
The clerks, constables, lictors, and underlings of the courts and
prisons, are the “claws” of their superiors, as the Chinese aptly call
them, and perform most of their extortions, and are correspondingly
odious to the people. In towns and trading places, it is easier for
the officers to exact in various ways from wealthy people, than in
the country, where rich people often hire bodies of retainers to
defy the police, and practise extortion and robbery themselves. Like
other Asiatic governments, China suffers from the consequences of
bribery, peculation, extortion, and poorly paid officers, but she has
no powerful aristocracy to retain the money thus squeezed out of the
people, and ere long it finds its way out of the hands of emperors
and ministers back into the mass of the people. The Chinese believe,
however, that the Emperor annually remits such amounts as he is able
to collect into Mukden, in time of extremity; but latterly he has not
been able to do so at all, and probably never sent as much to that city
as the popular ideas imagine. The sum applied to filling the granaries
is much larger, but this popular provision in case of need is really
a light draft upon the resources of the country, as it is usually
managed. In Canton, there are only fourteen buildings appropriated to
this purpose, few of them more than thirty feet square, and none of
them full.
FOOTNOTES:
[150] This careful digest is contained in the _Journal Asiatique_ for
1836 (April and May), and will repay perusal.
[151] The population of the Roman Empire at the same period is
estimated at 85,000,000 by Merivale (Vol. IV., pp. 336-343), but the
data are less complete than in China; he reckons the European provinces
at 45,000,000, and the Asiatic and African colonies at the remainder,
giving 27,000,000 to Asia Minor and Syria. The area of China, at this
time, was less than Rome by about one-fourth.
[152] Sir G. Staunton, _Embassy to China_, Vol. II., Appendix, p. 615:
“Table of the Population and Extent of China proper, within the Great
Wall. Taken in round numbers from the Statements of Chow ta-zhin.”
[153] This interesting subject can then be left with the reader, who
will find further remarks in Medhurst’s _China_, De Guignes’ _Voyages
à Peking_, The Missionaries, in Tomes VI. and VIII. of _Mémoires_, Ed.
Biot, in _Journal Asiatique_ for 1836. _The Numerical Relations of the
Population of China during the 4,000 Years of its Historical Existence;
or the Rise and Fall of the Chinese Population_, by T. Sacharoff.
Translated into English by the Rev. W. Lobscheid, Hongkong, 1862.
_Notes and Queries on China and Japan_, Vol. II., pp. 88, 103, and 117.
[154] _Sacred Edict_, pp. 51, 60.
[155] _China: Its State and Prospects_, p. 42.
[156] _Ta Tsing Leu Lee; being the Fundamental Laws, etc., of the Penal
Code of China_, by Sir G. T. Staunton, Bart., London, 1810. Section
CCXXV.
[157] _Chinese Repository_, Vol. I., p. 332.
[158] _Ibid._, Vol. VII., p. 503; Vol. II., p. 161.
[159] Yule’s _Marco Polo_, Vol. II., p. 152.
[160] _Penal Code_, p. 79, Staunton’s translation.
[161] _Voyages à Peking_, Tome III., pp. 55-86.
[162] The _shih_, says Medhurst, is a measure of grain containing 3,460
English cubic inches. _China: Its State and Prospects_, p. 68. London,
1838.
[163] _Annales de la Foi_, Tome XVI., p. 440.
[164] _Chinese Commercial Guide_, 2d edition, 1842, p. 143.
[165] _Chinese Repository_, Vol. I., p. 159.
[166] _Chinese Repository_, Vol. II., p. 431.
CHAPTER VI.
NATURAL HISTORY OF CHINA.
The succinct account of the natural history of China given by Sir John
Davis in 1836, contained nearly all the popular notices of much value
then known, and need not be repeated, while summarizing the items
derived from other and later sources. Malte-Brun observed long ago,
“That of even the more general, and, according to the usual estimate,
the more important features of that vast sovereignty, we owe whatever
knowledge we have obtained to some ambassadors who have seen the courts
and the great roads--to certain merchants who have inhabited a suburb
of a frontier town--and to several missionaries who, generally more
credulous than discriminating, have contrived to penetrate in various
directions into the interior.” The volumes upon China in the Edinburgh
Cabinet Library contain the best digest of what was known forty years
since on this subject. The botanical collections of Robert Fortune in
1844-1849, and those of Col. Champion at Hongkong, have been studied
by Bentham, while the later researches of Hance, Bunge and Maximowitch
have brought many new forms to notice. In geology, Pumpelly, Kingsmill,
Bickmore, and Baron Richthofen have greatly enlarged and certified
our knowledge by their travels and memoirs; while Père David, Col.
Prejevalsky, Swinhoe, Stimpson, and Sir John Richardson have added
hundreds of new species to the scientific fauna of the Empire.
~GEOLOGICAL FORMATIONS.~
Personal investigation is particularly necessary in all that relates
to the geology and fossils of a country, and the knowledge possessed
on these heads is, it must be conceded, still meagre, though now
sufficient to convey a general idea of the formations, deposits, and
contents of the mountains and mines, as well as the agencies at work
in modifying the surface of this land. The descriptions and observed
facts recorded in native books may furnish valuable hints when they
can be compared with the places and productions, for at present the
difficulty of explaining terms used, and understanding the processes
described, render these treatises hard to translate. The empirical
character of Chinese science compels a careful sifting of all its facts
and speculations by comparisons with nature, while the amount of real
information contained in medical, topographical, and itinerant works
render them always worth examining. Large regions still await careful
examination in every part of the Empire; and it will be well for the
Chinese Government if no tempting metallic deposits are found to test
its strength to protect and work them for its own benefit. But in mere
science it cannot be doubted that so peculiar a part of the world as
the plateau of Central Asia will, when thoroughly examined, solve many
problems relating to geology, and disclose many important facts to
illustrate the obscure phenomena of other parts of the world.
A few notices of geological formations furnished in the writings of
travellers, have already been given in the geographical account of
the provinces. The summary published by Davis is a well digested
survey of the observations collected by the gentlemen attached to the
embassies.[167]
~LOESS-BEDS OF NORTHERN CHINA.~
The loess-beds, covering a great portion of Northern China, are
among the most peculiar natural phenomena and interesting fields for
geological investigation on the world’s surface. Since attention was
first directed to this deposit by Pumpelly, in 1864, its formation and
extent have been more carefully examined by other geologists, whose
hypotheses are now pretty generally discarded for that of Baron von
Richthofen. The loess territory begins, at its eastern limit, with
the foot hills of the great alluvial plane. From this rises a terrace
of from 90 to 250 feet in height, consisting entirely of loess, and
westward of it, in a nearly north and south line, stretches the
Tai-hang shan, or dividing range between the alluvial land and the
hill country of Shansí. An almost uninterrupted loess-covered country
extends west of this line to the Koko-nor and head-waters of the Yellow
River. On the north the formation can be traced from the vicinity
of Kalgan, along the water-shed of the Mongolian steppes, and into
the desert beyond the Ala shan. Toward the south its limits are less
sharply defined; though covering all the country of the Wei basin (in
Shensí), none is found in Sz’chuen, due south of this valley, but it
appears in parts of Honan and Eastern Shantung. Excepting occasional
spurs and isolated spots--as at Nanking and the Lakes Poyang and
Tungting--loess may be considered as ending everywhere on the north
side of the Yangtsz’ valley, and, roughly speaking, to cover the
parallelogram between longs. 99° and 115°, and lats. 33° and 41°. The
district within China Proper represents a territory half as large again
as that of the German Empire, while outside of the Provinces there is
reason to believe that loess spreads far toward the east and north. In
the Wu-tai shan (Shansí), Richthofen observed this deposit to a height
of 7,200 feet above the sea, and supposes that it may occur at higher
levels.
The term _loess_, now generally accepted, has been used to designate
a tertiary deposit appearing in the Rhine valley and several isolated
sections of Europe; its formation has heretofore been ascribed to
glaciers, but its enormous extent and thickness in China demand some
other origin. The substance is a brownish colored earth, extremely
porous, and when dry easily powdered between the fingers, when it
becomes an impalpable dust that may be rubbed into the pores of the
skin. Its particles are somewhat angular in shape, the lumps varying
from the size of a peanut to a foot in length, whose appearance
warrants the peculiarly appropriate Chinese name meaning ‘ginger
stones.’ After washing, the stuff is readily disintegrated, and spread
far and wide by rivers during their freshets; Kingsmill[168] states
that a number of specimens which crumbled in the moist air of a
Shanghai summer, rearranged themselves afterward in the bottom of a
drawer in which they had been placed. Every atom of loess is perforated
by small tubes, usually very minute, circulating after the manner of
root-fibres, and lined with a thin coating of carbonate of lime. The
direction of these little canals being always from above downward,
cleavage in the loess mass, irrespective of its size, is invariably
vertical, while from the same cause surface water never collects in the
form of rain puddles or lakes, but sinks at once to the local water
level.
One of the most striking, as well as important phenomena of this
formation is the perpendicular splitting of its mass into sudden and
multitudinous clefts that cut up the country in every direction, and
render observation, as well as travel, often exceedingly difficult.
The cliffs, caused by erosion, vary from cracks measured by inches to
cañons half a mile wide and hundreds of feet deep; they branch out in
every direction, ramifying through the country after the manner of
tree-roots in the soil--from each root a rootlet, and from these other
small fibres--until the system of passages develops into a labyrinth
of far-reaching and intermingling lanes. Were the loess throughout
of the uniform structure seen in single clefts, such a region would
indeed be absolutely impassable, the vertical banks becoming precipices
of often more than a thousand feet. The fact, however, that loess
exhibits all over a terrace formation, renders its surface not only
habitable, but highly convenient for agricultural purposes; it has
given rise, moreover, to the theory advanced by Kingsmill and some
others, of its stratification, and from this a proof of its origin
as a marine deposit. Richthofen argues that these apparent layers of
loess are due to external conditions, as of rocks and débris sliding
from surrounding hillsides upon the loess as it sifted into the basin
or valley, thus interrupting the homogeneity of the gradually rising
deposit. In the sides of gorges near the mountains are seen layers of
coarse débris which, in going toward the valley, become finer, while
the layers themselves are thinner and separated by an increasing
vertical distance; along these rubble beds are numerous calcareous
concretions which stand upright. These are then the terrace-forming
layers which, by their resistance to the action of water, cause the
broken chasms and step-like contour of the loess regions. Each bank
does indeed cleave vertically, sometimes--since the erosion works from
below--leaving an overhanging bank; but meeting with this horizontal
layer of marl stones, the abrasion is interrupted, and a ledge is made.
Falling clods upon such spaces are gradually spread over their surfaces
by natural action, converting them into rich fields. When seen from a
height in good seasons, these systems of terraces present an endless
succession of green fields and growing crops; viewed from the deep cut
of a road below, the traveller sees nothing but yellow walls of loam
and dusty tiers of loess ridges. As may be readily imagined, a country
of this nature exhibits many landscapes of unrivalled picturesqueness,
especially when lofty crags, which some variation in the water-course
has left as giant guardsmen in fertile river valleys, stand out in bold
relief against the green background of neighboring hills and a fruitful
alluvial bottom, or when an opening of some ascending pass allows the
eye to range over leagues of sharp-cut ridges and teaming crops, the
work of the careful cultivator.
~UTILITY AND FRUITFULNESS OF THE LOESS.~
The extreme ease with which loess is cut away tends at times to
seriously embarrass traffic. Dust made by the cart-wheels on a
highway is taken up by strong winds during the dry season and blown
over the surrounding lands, much after the manner in which it was
originally deposited here. This action continued over centuries, and
assisted by occasional deluges of rain, which find a ready channel
in the road-bed, has hollowed the country routes into depressions of
often 50 or 100 feet, where the passenger may ride for miles without
obtaining a glimpse of the surrounding scenery. Lieutenant Kreitner,
of the Széchenyí exploring expedition, illustrates,[169] in a personal
experience in Shansí, the difficulty and danger of leaving these deep
cuts; after scrambling for miles along the broken loess above the road,
he only regained it when a further passage was cut off by a precipice
on the one side, while a jump of some 30 feet into the beaten track
below awaited him on the other. Difficult as may be such a territory
for roads and the purposes of trade, the advantages to a farmer are
manifold. Wherever this deposit extends, there the husbandman has an
assured harvest, two and even three times in a year. It is easily
worked, exceedingly fertile, and submits to constant tillage, with no
other manure than a sprinkling of its own loam dug from the nearest
bank. But loess performs still another service to its inhabitants.
Caves made at the base of its straight clefts afford homes to millions
of people in the northern provinces. Choosing an escarpment where the
consistency of the earth is greatest, the natives cut for themselves
rooms and houses, whose partition walls, cement, bed and furniture
are made from the same loess. Whole villages cluster together in a
series of adjoining or superimposed chambers, some of which pierce the
soil to a depth of often more than 200 feet. In more costly dwellings
the terrace or succession of terraces thus perforated are faced with
brick, as well as the arching of rooms within. The advantages of such
habitations consist as well in imperviousness to changes of temperature
without, as in their durability when constructed in properly selected
places, many loess dwellings outlasting six or seven generations. The
capabilities of defence in a country such as this, where an invading
army must inevitably become lost in the tangle of interlacing ways, and
where the defenders may always remain concealed, is very suggestive.
[Illustration: Facade of Dwelling in Loess Cliffs, Ling-shí hien. (From
Richthofen.)]
There remains, lastly, a peculiar property of loess which is perhaps
more important than all other features when measured by its man-serving
efficiency. This is the manner in which it brings forth crops without
the aid of manure. From a period more than 2,000 years before Christ,
to the present day, the province of Shansí has borne the name of
Grainery of the Empire, while its fertile soil, _hwang-tu_, or
‘yellow earth,’ is the origin of the imperial color. Spite of this
productiveness, which, in the fourteenth century, caused the Friar
Odoric to class it as the second country in the world, its present
capacity for raising crops seems to be as great as ever. In the nature
of this substance lies the reason for this apparently inexhaustible
fecundity. Its remarkably porous structure must indeed cause it to
absorb the gases necessary to plant life to a much greater degree than
other soils, but the stable production of those mineral substances
needful to the yearly succession of crops is in the ground itself.
The salts contained more or less in solution at the water level
of the region are freed by the capillary action of the loess when
rain-water sinks through the spongy mass from above. Surface moisture
following the downward direction of the tiny loess tubes establishes a
connection with the waters compressed below, when, owing to the law of
diffusion, the ingredients, being released, mix with the moisture of
the little canals, and are taken from the lowest to the topmost levels,
permeating the ground and furnishing nourishment to the plant roots at
the surface. It is on account of this curious action of loess that a
copious rain-fall is more necessary in North China than elsewhere, for
with a dearth of rain the capillary communication from above, below,
and _vice versa_, is interrupted, and vegetation loses both its manure
and moisture. Drought and famine are consequently synonymous terms here.
~RICHTHOFEN’S THEORY OF ITS ORIGIN.~
As to the formation and origin of loess, Richthofen’s theory is
substantially as follows:[170] The uniform composition of this material
over extended areas, coupled with the absence of stratification and
of marine or fresh-water organic remains, renders impossible the
hypothesis that it is a water deposit. On the other hand, it contains
vast quantities of land-shells and the vestiges of animals (mammalia)
at every level, both in remarkably perfect condition. Concluding, also,
that from the conformation of the neighboring mountain chains and their
peculiar weathering, the glacial theory is inadmissible, he advances
the supposition that loess is a sub-aërial deposit, and that its fields
are the drained analogues of the steppe-basins of Central Asia. They
date from a geological era of great dryness, before the existence of
the Yellow and other rivers of the northern provinces. As the rocks
and hills of the highlands disintegrated, the sand was removed,
not by water-courses seaward, but by the high winds ranging over a
treeless desert landward, until the dust settled in the grass-covered
districts of what is at present China Proper. New vegetation was at
once nourished, while its roots were raised by the constantly arriving
deposit; the decay of old roots produced the lime-lined canals which
impart to this material its peculiar characteristics. Any one who has
observed the terrible dust-storms of North China, when the air is
filled with an impalpable yellow powder, which leaves its coating upon
everything, and often extends, in a fog-like cloud, hundreds of miles
to sea, will understand the power of this action during many thousand
years. This deposition received the shells and bones of innumerable
animals, while the dissolved solutions contained in its bulk stayed
therein, or saturated the water of small lakes. By the sinking of
mountain chains in the south, rain-clouds emptied themselves over this
region with much greater frequency, and gradually the system became
drained, the erosion working backward from the coast, slowly cutting
into one basin after another. With the sinking of its salts to lower
levels, unexampled richness was added to the wonderful topography of
this peculiar formation.[171]
Pumpelly, while accepting this ingenious theory in place of his own
(that of a fresh-water lake deposit), adds that the supply of loess
might have been materially increased by the vast _mers-de-glace_ of
High Asia and the Tien shan, whose streams have for ages transported
the products of glacial attrition into Central Asia and Northwest
China. Again, he insists that Richthofen has not given importance
enough to the parting planes, wrongly considered by his predecessors
as planes of stratification. “These,” he says, “account for the
marginal layers of débris brought down from the mountains. And the
continuous and more abundant growth of grasses _at one plane_ would
produce a modification of the soil structurally and chemically, which
superincumbent accumulations could never efface. It should seem
probable that we have herein, also, the explanation of the calcareous
concretions which abound along these planes; for the greater amount of
carbonic acid generated by the slow decay of this vegetation would,
by forming a bicarbonate, give to the lime the mobility necessary to
produce the concretions.”
~METHODS OF WORKING COAL.~
The metallic and mineral productions used in the arts comprise nearly
everything found in other countries, and the common ones are furnished
in such abundance, and at such rates, as conclusively prove them
to be plenty and easily worked. The careful digest of observations
published by Pumpelly through the Smithsonian Institution, carries
out this remark, and indicates the vast field still to be explored.
Coal exists in every province in China, and Pumpelly enumerates
seventy-four localities which have been ascertained. Marco Polo’s
well-known notice of its use shows that the people had long employed
it: “It is a fact that all over the country of Cathay there is a kind
of black stone existing in beds in the mountains, which they dig out
and burn like firewood. It is true that they have plenty of wood
also, but they do not burn it, because those stones burn better and
cost less.”[172] This mineral seems to have been unknown in Europe
till after the return of the Venetian to his native land, while it
was employed before the Christian era in China, and probably in very
ancient times, if the accessible deposits in Shensí then cropped out
in its eroded gorges, as represented by Richthofen. The few fossil
plants hitherto examined indicate that the mass of these deposits are
of the Mesozoic age. The mode of working the coal mines is described
by Pumpelly,[173] and was probably no worse two thousand five hundred
years ago. Want of machinery for draining them prevents the miners
from going much below the water-level, and a rain-storm will sometimes
flood and ruin a shaft. An inclined plane seldom takes the workmen
more than a hundred feet below the level of the mouth, and then a
horizontal gallery conducts him to the end of the mine. Some water
is bailed out by buckets handed from one level up to another at the
top, and the coal is carried out in baskets on the miners’ backs, or
dragged in sleds over smooth, round sticks along passages too low for
the coolies to do better than crawl as they work. Mr. Pumpelly found
the gallery of one mine near Peking so low that he had to crawl the
whole distance (six thousand feet) to see its construction, and when he
emerged into daylight, with his knees nearly skinned, ascertained that
the workmen padded theirs. The timbering is very expensive, yet, with
all drawbacks, the coal sells, at the pit’s mouth, for $2.00 down to
50 cents a ton. The mines, lying on the slopes of the plateau reaching
from near Corea to the Yellow River, supply the plain with cheap and
excellent fuel.
Blakiston gives an account of the manner in which coal is worked on
the Upper Yangtsz’, near the town of Süchau: “Having to be got out at
a great height up in the cliff, very thick hawsers, made of plaited
bamboo, are tightly stretched from the mouth, or near the mouth, of
the working gallery, to a space near the water where the coal can be
deposited. These ropes are in pairs, and large pannier-shaped baskets
are made to traverse on them, a rope passing from one over a large
wheel at the upper landing, and down again to the other, so that the
full basket going down pulls the empty one up, the velocity being
regulated by a kind of brake on the wheel at the top. At some places
the height at which the coal is worked is so great that two or more of
these contrivances are used, one taking to a landing half way down,
and another from thence to the river. The hawsers are kept taut by a
windlass for that purpose at the bottom.”[174] This useful mineral
appears to be abundant throughout Sz’chuen Province, and is used here
much less sparingly than in the east. With such inexpensive methods
of getting coal to the water-courses, foreign machinery can hardly be
expected to reduce its price very materially.
[Illustration: COAL GORGE ON THE YANGTSZ’. (FROM BLAKISTON.)]
The economical use of coal in the household and the arts has been
carried to great perfection. Anthracite is powdered and mixed with
wet clay, earth, sawdust or dung, according to the exigencies of the
case, in the proportion of about seven to one; the balls thus made
are dried in the sun. The brick-beds (_kang_) are effective means of
warming the house, and the hand furnaces enable the poor to cook with
these balls--aided by a little charcoal or kindlings--at a trifling
expense. This form of consumption is common north of the Yellow River,
and brings coal within reach of multitudes who otherwise would suffer
and starve. Bituminous, brown, and other varieties of coal occur in the
same abundance and extent as in other great areas, giving promise of
adequate supplies for future ages. The coal worked on the Peh kiang,
in Kwangtung, contains sulphur, and is employed in the manufacture of
copperas.[175]
~BUILDING STONES AND MINERALS.~
Crystallized gypsum is brought from the northwest of the province to
Canton, and is ground to powder in mills; plaster of Paris and other
forms of this sulphate are common all over China. It is not used as
a manure, but the flour is mixed with wood-oil to form a cement for
paying the seams of boats after they have been caulked. The powder is
employed as a dentifrice, a cosmetic, and a medicine, and sometimes,
also, is boiled to make a gruel in fevers, under the idea that it is
cooling. The bakers who supplied the English troops at Amoy, in 1843,
occasionally put it into the bread to make it heavier, but not, as
was erroneously charged upon them, with any design of poisoning their
customers, for they do not think it noxious; its employment in coloring
green tea, and adulterating powdered sugar, is also explainable by
other motives than a wish to injure the consumers.
Limestone is abundant at Canton, both common clouded marble and blue
limestone; the last is extensively used in the artificial rockwork
of gardens. Even if the Cantonese knew of the existence of lime in
limestone, which they generally do not, the expense of fuel for
calcining it would prevent their burning it while oyster-shells are
so abundant in that region. In other provinces stone-lime is burned,
by the aid of coal, in small kilns. The fine marble quarried near
Peking is regarded as fit alone for imperial uses, and is seen only
in such places as the Altar of Heaven and palace grounds. The marble
used for floors is a fissile crystallized limestone, unsusceptible of
polish; no statues or ornaments are sculptured from this mineral, but
slabs are sometimes wrought out, and the surfaces curiously stained
and corroded with acids, forming rude representations of animals or
other figures, so as to convey the appearance of natural markings. Some
of these simulated petrifactions are exceedingly well done. Slabs of
argillaceous slate are also chosen with reference to their layers, and
treated in the same manner. An excellent granite is used about Canton
and Amoy for building, and no people exceed the Chinese in cutting
it. Large slabs are split out by wooden wedges, cut for basements and
foundations, and laid in a beautiful manner; pillars are also hewn
from single stones of different shapes, though of no extraordinary
dimensions, and their shafts embellished with inscriptions. Ornamental
walls are frequently formed of large slabs set in posts, like
panels, the outer faces of which are beautifully carved with figures
representing a landscape or procession. Red and gray sandstone, gneiss,
mica slate, and other species of rock, are also worked for pavements
and walls.
Nitre is cheap and common enough in the northern provinces to obviate
any fear of its being smuggled into the country from abroad; it is
obtained in Chihlí by lixiviating the soil, and furnishes material
for the manufacture of gunpowder. A lye is obtained from ashes, which
partially serves the purposes of soap; but the people are still
ignorant of the processes necessary for manufacturing it. Fourteen
localities of alum are given in Pumpelly’s list, but the greatest
supply for the eastern provinces comes from deposits of shale, in
Ping-yang hien, in Chehkiang, which produces about six thousand tons
annually. It is used mostly by the dyers, also to purify turbid water,
and whiten paper. Other earthy salts are known and used, as borax,
sal-ammoniac (which is collected in Mongolia and Ílí from lakes and the
vicinity of extinct volcanoes), and blue and white vitriol, obtained
by roasting pyrites. Common salt is procured along the eastern and
southern coasts by evaporating sea-water, rock-salt not having been
noticed; in the western provinces and Shansí, it is obtained from
artesian wells and lakes as cheaply as from the ocean; in Tsing-yen
hien, in Central Sz’chuen, two hundred and thirty-seven wells are
worked. At Chusan the sea-water is so turbid that the inhabitants
filter it through clay, afterward evaporating the water.
~JADE STONE, OR YUH.~
The minerals heretofore found in China have, for the most part, been
such as have attracted the attention of the natives, and collected
by them for curiosity or sale. The skilful manner in which their
lapidaries cut crystal, agate, and other quartzose minerals, is well
known.[176] The corundum used for polishing and finishing these
carvings occurs in China, but a good deal of emery in powder is
obtained from Borneo. A composition of granular corundum and gum-lac
is usually employed by workmen in order to produce the highest lustre
of which the stones are capable. The three varieties of the silicate
of alumina, called jade, nephrite, and jadeite by mineralogists, are
all named _yuh_ by the Chinese, a word which is applied to a vast
variety of stones--white marble, ruby, and cornelian all coming under
it--and therefore not easy to define. Jade has long been known in
Europe as a variety of jasper, its separation from that stone into
a species by itself being of comparatively recent origin. Since the
third edition of Boetius, in 1647, the two minerals have been regarded
as entirely distinct. Its value in the eyes of the Chinese depends
chiefly upon its sonorousness and color. The costliest specimens are
brought from Yunnan and Khoten; a greenish-white color is the most
highly prized, a plain color of any shade being of less value. A cargo
of this mineral was once imported into Canton from New Holland, but
the Chinese would not purchase it, owing to a fancy taken against
its origin and color. The patient toil of the workers in this hard
mineral is only equalled by the prodigious admiration with which it
is regarded; both fairly exhibit the singular taste and skill of the
Chinese. Its color is usually a greenish-white, or grayish-green and
dark grass-green; internally it is scarcely glimmering. Its fracture
is splintery; splinters white; mass semi-transparent and cloudy; it
scratches glass strongly, and can itself generally be scratched by
flint or quartz, but while not excessively hard it is remarkable for
toughness. The stone when freshly broken is less hard than after a
short exposure. Specific gravity from 2.9 to 3.1.[177] Fischer (pp.
314-318) gives some one hundred and fifty names as occurring in various
authors--ancient and modern--for jade or nephrite.[178] An interesting
testimony to the esteem in which this stone was held in China during
the middle ages comes from Benedict Goës (1602), who says: “There is no
article of traffic more valuable than lumps of a certain transparent
kind of marble, which we, from poverty of language, usually call
jasper.... Out of this marble they fashion a variety of articles, such
as vases, brooches for mantles and girdles, which, when artistically
sculptured in flowers and foliage, certainly have an effect of no small
magnificence. These marbles (with which the Empire is now overflowing)
are called by the Chinese Iusce. There are two kinds of it; the first
and more valuable is got out of the river at Cotan, almost in the same
way in which divers fish for gems, and this is usually extracted in
pieces about as big as large flints. The other and inferior kind is
excavated from the mountains.” The ruby, diamond, amethyst, sapphire,
topaz, pink tourmaline, lapis-lazuli,[179] turquoises, beryl, garnet,
opal, agate, and other stones, are known and most of them used in
jewelry. A ruby brought from Peking is noticed by Bell as having been
valued in Europe at $50,000. The seals of the Boards are in many
instances cut on valuable stones, and private persons take great pride
in quartz or jade seals, with their names carved on them; lignite and
jet are likewise employed for cheaper ornaments, of which all classes
are fond.
~METALS AND THEIR PRODUCTION.~
All the common metals, except platina, are found in China, and the
supply would be sufficient for all the purposes of the inhabitants,
if they could avail themselves of the improvements adopted in other
countries in blasting, mining, etc. The importations of iron, lead,
tin, and quicksilver, are gradually increasing, but they form only a
small proportion of the amount used throughout the Empire, especially
of the two first named; iron finds its way in because of its convenient
forms more than its cheapness. The careful examination of Chinese
topographical works by Pumpelly,[180] records the leading localities
of iron in every province, and where copper, tin, lead, silver, and
quicksilver have been observed; he also mentions fifty-two places
producing gold in various forms, most of them in Sz’chuen. The rumor
of gold-washings occurring not far from Chifu, in Shantung, caused much
excitement in 1868, but they were soon found to be not worth the labor.
Gold has never been used as coin in China, but is wrought into jewelry;
most of it is consumed in gilding and exported to India as bullion, in
the shape of small bars or coarse leaves.
Silver is mentioned in sixty-three localities by the same author; large
amounts are brought from Yunnan, and the mines in that region must be
both extensive and easily worked to afford such large quantities as
have been exported. The working of both gold and silver mines has been
said to be prohibited, but this interdiction is rather a government
monopoly of the mines than an injunction upon working those which are
known. The importation of gold into China during the two centuries
the trade has been opened, does not probably equal the exportation
which has taken place since the commencement of the opium trade. It
is altogether improbable that the Chinese are acquainted with the
properties of quicksilver in separating these two metals from their
ores, though its consumption in making vermilion and looking-glasses
calls for over two thousand flasks yearly at Canton. Cinnabar occurs in
Kweichau and Shensí and furnishes most of the “water silver,” as the
Chinese call it, by a rude process of burning brushwood in the wells,
and collecting the metal after condensation.
Copper is used for manufacturing coin, bells, bronze articles, domestic
and cooking utensils, cannon, gongs, and brass-foil. It is found pure
in some instances, and the sulphuret, the blue and green carbonates,
pyrities, and other ores are worked; malachite is ground for a paint.
It occurs in every province, and is specially rich in Shansí and
Kweichau. The ores of zinc and copper in Yunnan and Sz’chuen furnish
spelter, and the peculiar alloy known as white copper or argentan,
containing in addition tin, iron, nickel, and lead. So much use
indicates large deposits of the ores. Tin is rather abundant, but lead
is more common; thirty-nine localities of the first are mentioned,
some of which are probably zinc ores, as the Chinese confound tin
and zinc under one generic name. Lead occurs with silver in many
places; twenty-four mines are mentioned in Pumpelly’s list, and those
in Fuhkien are rich; but the extensive importations prove that its
reduction is too expensive to compete with the foreign.
Realgar is quite common, this and orpiment being used as paints;
statuettes and other articles are carved from the former, while
arsenic is used in agriculture to quicken grain and preserve it
from insects. Amber and fossilized copal are collected in several
localities; the first is much employed in the making of court necklaces
and hair ornaments. The _fei-tsui_ or jadeite is the most prized of
the semi-precious stones; it is cut into ear-rings, finger-rings,
necklaces, etc. Pumpelly mentions pieces of this mineral set in
relics obtained from tombs in Mexico, though no locality where it
abounds has yet been found in America. Lapis-lazuli is employed in
painting upon copper and porcelain ware; this mineral is obtained in
Chehkiang and Kansuh; jadeite, topaz, and other fine stones are most
plenty in Yunnan. A few minerals and fossils have been noticed in the
vicinity and shops at Canton, but China thus far has furnished very
few petrifactions in any strata. Coarse epidote occurs at Macao, and
tungstate of iron has been noticed in the quartz rocks at Hongkong.
Petrified crabs (_macrophthalmus_) have been brought to Canton from
Hainan, which are prized by the natives for their supposed medicinal
qualities. Scientists have hitherto described a score or more species
of Devonian shells, and recognized fragments of the hyena, tapir,
rhinoceros, and stegedon, among some other doubtful vertebratæ in the
“dragon’s bones” sold in medicine shops; but further examinations will
doubtless increase the list. Orthoceratites and bivalve shells of
various kinds are noticed in Chinese books as being found in rocks, and
fossil bones of huge size in caves and river banks.
There are many hot springs and other indications of volcanic action
along the southern acclivities of the table land in the provinces
of Shensí and Sz’chuen; and at Jeh-ho, in Chihlí, there are thermal
springs to which invalids resort. The _Ho tsing_, or Fire wells,
in Sz’chuen are apertures resembling artesian springs, sunk in the
rock to a depth of one thousand five hundred or one thousand eight
hundred feet, whilst their breadth does not exceed five or six inches.
This is a work of great difficulty, and requires in some cases the
labor of two or three years. The water procured from them contains a
fifth part of salt, which is very acrid, and mixed with much nitre.
When a lighted torch is applied to the mouth of some of those which
have no water, fire is produced with great violence and a noise like
thunder, bursting out into a flame twenty or thirty feet high, and
which cannot be extinguished without great danger and expense. The gas
has a bituminous smell, and burns with a bluish flame and a quantity
of thick, black smoke. It is conducted under boilers in bamboos, and
employed in evaporating the salt-water from the other springs.[181]
Besides the gaseous and aqueous springs in these provinces, there are
others possessing different qualities, some sulphurous and others
chalybeate, found in Shansí and along the banks of the Yellow River.
Sulphur occurs, as has been noted, in great abundance in Formosa, and
is purified for powder manufacturers.
The animal and vegetable productions of the extensive regions under
the sway of the Emperor of China include a great variety of types of
different families. On the south the islands of Hainan and Formosa, and
parts of the adjacent coasts, slightly partake of a tropical character,
exhibiting in the cocoanuts, plantains, and peppers, the parrots,
lemurs, and monkeys, decided indications of an equatorial climate. From
the eastern coast across through the country to the northwest provinces
occur mountain ranges of gradually increasing elevation, interspersed
with intervales and alluvial plateaus and bottoms, lakes and rivers,
plains and hills, each presenting its peculiar productions, both wild
and cultivated, in great variety and abundance. The southern ascent of
the high land of Mongolia, the uncultivated wilds of Manchuria, the
barren wastes of the desert of Gobi, with its salt lakes, glaciers,
extinct volcanoes, and isolated mountain ranges; and lastly the
stupendous chains and valleys of Tibet, Koko-nor, and Kwănlun all
differ from each other in the character of their productions. In one or
the other division, every variety of soil, position, and temperature
occur which are known on the globe; and what has been ascertained
within the past fifteen years by enterprising naturalists is an earnest
of future greater discoveries.
~QUADRUMANOUS ANIMALS OF CHINA.~
Of the quadrumanous order of animals, there are several species. The
Chinese are skilful in teaching the smaller kinds of monkeys various
tricks, but M. Breton’s picture of their adroitness and usefulness in
picking tea in Shantung from plants growing on otherwise inaccessible
acclivities, is a fair instance of one of the odd stories furnished
by travellers about China, inasmuch as no tea grows in Shantung,
and monkeys are taught more profitable tricks.[182] One of the most
remarkable animals of this tribe is the _douc_, or Cochinchinese monkey
(_Semnopithecus nemæus_). It is a large species of great rarity, and
remarkable for the variety of colors with which it is adorned. Its
body is about two feet long, and when standing in an upright position
its height is considerably greater. The face is of an orange color,
and flattened in its form. A dark band runs across the front of
the forehead, and the sides of the countenance are bounded by long
spreading yellowish tufts of hair. The body and upper parts of the
forearms are brownish gray, the lower portions of the arms, from the
elbows to the wrists, being white; its hands and thighs are black, and
the legs of a bright red color, while the tail and a large triangular
spot above it are pure white. Such a creature matches well, for its
grotesque and variegated appearance, with the mandarin duck and gold
fish, also peculiar to China.
~THE FÍ-FÍ AND HAI-TUH.~
Chinese books speak of several species of this family, and small kinds
occur in all the provinces. M. David has recently added two novelties
to the list from his acquisitions in Eastern Koko-nor, well fitted for
that cold region by their abundant hair. The _Rhinopithecus roxellanæ_
inhabits the alpine forests, nearly two miles high, where it subsists
on the buds of plants and bamboo shoots laid up for winter supply; its
face is greenish, the nose remarkably _rétroussé_, and its strong,
brawny limbs well fitted for the arboreal life it leads; the hair is
thick and like a mane on the back, shaded with yellow and white tints.
In this respect it is like the Gelada monkey of Abyssinia, and a few
others protected in this part of the body from cold. This is no doubt
the kind called _fí-fí_ in native books, and once found in flocks
along many portions of western China, as these authors declare. Their
notices are rather tantalizing, but, now that we have found the animal,
are worth quoting: “The _fí-fí_ resembles a man; it is clothed with its
hair, runs quick and eats men; it has a human face, long lips, black,
hairy body, and turns its heels. It laughs on seeing a man and covers
its eyes with its lips; it can talk and its voice resembles a bird. It
occurs in Sz’chuen, where it is called _jin hiung_, or ‘human bear;’
its palms are good eating, and its skin is used; its habit is to turn
over stones, seeking for crabs as its food. Its form is like that of
the men who live in the Kwănlun Mountains.”
Another large simia (_Macacus thibetanus_) comes from the same region;
it lives in bands like the preceding, but lower down the mountains. A
third species of great size was reported to occur in the southwestern
part of Sz’chuen, and described as greenish like the _Macacus
tcheliensis_ from the hills northwest of Peking--the most northern
species of monkey known. The former of these two may possibly be the
_sing-sing_ of the Chinese books, though its characteristics involve
some confusion of the Macacus and baboon on the part of those writers.
Two other species of Macacus, and as many of the gibbons, have been
noticed in Hainan, Formosa, and elsewhere in the south.
The singular proboscis monkey (_Nasalis laivalus_), called _khi-doc_ in
Cochinchina and _hai-tuh_ by the Chinese, exhibits a strange profile,
part man and part beast, reminding one of the combinations in Da
Vinci’s caricatures. It is a large animal, covered with soft yellowish
hair tinted with red; the long nose projects in the form of a sloping
spatula. The Chinese account says: “Its nose is turned upward, and the
tail very long and forked at the end, and that whenever it rains, the
animal thrusts the forks into its nose. It goes in herds, and lives
in friendship; when one dies, the rest accompany it to burial. Its
activity is so great that it runs its head against the trees; its fur
is soft and gray, and the face black.”[183]
[Illustration: Fí-fí and Hai-tuh. (From a Chinese cut.)]
The _Chinese Herbal_, from which the preceding extract is taken,
describes the bat under various names, such as ‘heavenly rat,’ ‘fairy
rat,’ ‘flying rat,’ ‘night swallow,’ and ‘belly wings;’ it also details
the various uses made of the animal in medicine, and the extraordinary
longevity attained by some of the white species. The bat is in form
like a mouse; its body is of an ashy black color; and it has thin
fleshy wings, which join the four legs and tail into one. It appears
in the summer, but becomes torpid in the winter; on which account,
as it eats nothing during that season, and because it has a habit of
swallowing its breath, it attains a great age. It has the character
of a night rover, not on account of any inability to fly in the day,
but it dares not go abroad at that time because it fears a kind of
hawk. It subsists on mosquitoes and gnats. It flies with its head
downward, because the brain is heavy.[184] This quotation is among the
best Chinese descriptions of animals, and shows how little there is to
depend upon in them, though not without interest in their notices of
habits. Bats are common everywhere, and seem to be regarded with less
aversion than in certain other countries. Twenty species belonging
to nine genera are given in one list, most of them found in southern
China; the wings of some of these measure two feet across; a large sort
in Sz’chuen is eaten.
~WILD ANIMALS.~
The brown bear is known, and its paws are regarded as a delicacy;
trained animals are frequently brought into cities by showmen, who
have taught them tricks. The discovery by David of a large species
(_Ailuropus melanoleurus_) allied to the Himalayan panda (_Ailurus
fulgens_), also found on the Sz’chuen Mountains, adds another instance
of the strange markings common in Tibetan fauna. This beast feeds on
flesh and vegetables; its body is white, but the ears, eyes, legs, and
tip of the tail are quite black; the fur is thick and coarse. It is
called _peh hiung_, or white bear, by the hunters, but is no doubt the
animal called _pi_ in the classics, common in early times over western
China, and now rare even in Koko-nor. The Tibetan black bear occurs
in Formosa, Shantung, and Hainan, showing a wide range. The badger
is quite as widespread, and the two species have the same general
appearance as their European congeners.
Carnivorous animals still exist, even in thickly settled districts.
The lion may once have roamed over the southwestern Manji kingdom,
but the name and drawings both indicate a foreign origin. It has
much connection with Buddhism, and grotesque sculptures of rampant
lions stand in pairs in front of temples, palaces, and graves, as a
mark of honor and symbol of protection. The last instance of a live
lion brought as tribute was to Hientsung in A.D. 1470, from India or
Ceylon. Many other species of _felis_ are known, some of them peculiar
to particular regions. The royal tiger has been killed near Amoy, and
in Manchuria the panther, leopard, and tiger-cat all occur in the
northern and southern provinces, making altogether a list of twelve
species ranging from Formosa to Sagalien. Mr. Swinhoe’s[185] account
of his rencounter with a tiger near Amoy in 1858 explains how such
large animals still remain in thickly settled regions where food is
abundant and the people are timid and unarmed. In thinly peopled parts
they become a terror to the peasants. M. David enumerates six kinds,
including a lynx, in Monpin alone, one of which (_Felis scripta_) is
among the most prettily marked of the whole family. Hunting-leopards
and tigers were used in the days of Marco Polo by Kublai, but the manly
pastime of the chase, on the magnificent scale then practised, has
fallen into disuse with the present princes. A small and fierce species
of wild-cat (_Felis chinensis_), two feet long, of a brownish-gray
color, and handsomely marked with chestnut spots and black streaks, is
still common in the southwestern portions of Fuhkien. Civet cats of two
or three kinds, tree-civets (_Helictes_), and a fine species of marten
(_Martes_), with yellow neck and purplish-brown body, from Formosa, are
among the smaller carnivora in the southern provinces.
~CATS AND DOGS.~
The domestic animals offer few peculiarities. The cat, _kia lí_, or
‘household fox,’ is a favorite inmate of families, and the ladies of
Peking are fond of a variety of the Angora cat, having long silky hair
and hanging ears. The common species is variously marked, and in the
south often destitute of a tail; when reared for food it is fed on
rice and vegetables, but is not much eaten. Popular superstition has
clustered many omens of good and bad luck about cats; it is considered,
for example, the prognostic of certain misfortune when a cat is stolen
from a house--much as, in some countries of the western world, it is
unlucky when a black cat crosses one’s pathway.
The dog differs but little from that reared among the Esquimaux, and
is perhaps the original of the species. There is little variation
in their size, which is about a foot high and two feet in length;
the color is a pale yellow or black, and always uniform, with coarse
bristling hair, and tails curling up high over the back, and rising
so abruptly from the insertion that it has been humorously remarked
they almost assist in lifting the legs from the ground. The hind
legs are unusually straight, which gives them an awkward look, and
perhaps prevents them running very rapidly. The black eyes are small
and piercing, and the insides of the lips and mouths, and the tongue,
are of the same color, or a blue black. The bitch has a dew-claw on
each hind leg, but the dog has none. The ears are sharp and upright,
the head peaked, and the bark a short, thick snap, very unlike the
deep, sonorous baying of our mastiffs. In Nganhwui a peculiar variety
has pendant ears of great length, and thin, wirey tails. One item
in the Chinese description of the dog is that it ‘can go on three
legs’--a gait that is often exhibited by them. They are used to watch
houses and flocks; the Mongolian breed is fierce and powerful. The
dogs of Peking are very clannish, and each set jealously guards its
own street or yard; they are fed by the butchers in the streets, and
serve as scavengers there and in all large towns. They are often
mangey, presenting hideous spectacles, and instances of _plica
polonica_ are not uncommon, but, as among the celebrated street dogs
of Constantinople, hydrophobia is almost unheard of among them. Dog
markets are seen in every city where this meat is sold; the animals are
reared expressly for the table, but their flesh is expensive.
One writer remarks on their habits, when describing the worship
offered at the tombs: “Hardly had the hillock been abandoned by the
worshippers, when packs of hungry dogs came running up to devour the
part of the offerings left for the dead, or to lick up the grease on
the ground. Those who came first held up their heads, bristled their
hair, and showed a proud and satisfied demeanor, curling and wagging
their tails with selfish delight; while the late-comers, tails between
their legs, held their heads and ears down. There was one of them,
however, which, grudging the fare, held his nose to the wind as if
sniffing for better luck; but one lean, old, and ugly beast, with a
flayed back and hairless tail, was seen gradually separating himself
from the band, though without seeming to hurry himself, making a
thousand doublings and windings, all the while looking back to see if
he was noticed. But the old sharper knew what he was about, and as soon
as he thought himself at a safe distance, away he went like an arrow,
the whole pack after him, to some other feast and some other tomb.”[186]
Wolves, raccoon-dogs, and foxes are everywhere common, in some places
proving to be real pests in the sheepfold and farmyard. In the
vicinity of Peking, it is customary to draw large white rings on the
plastered walls, in order to terrify the wolves, as these beasts, it
is thought, will flee on observing such traps. The Chinese regard the
fox as the animal into which human spirits enter in preference to
any other, and are therefore afraid to destroy or displease it. The
elevated steppes are the abodes of three or four kinds, which find
food without difficulty. The Tibetan wolf (_Canis chanco_) has a warm,
yellowish-white covering, and ranges the wilds of Tsaidam and Koko-nor
in packs. The fox (_Canis cossac_) spreads over a wide range, and is
famed for its sagacity in avoiding enemies.
~CATTLE, SHEEP, AND DEER.~
The breed of cattle and horses is dwarfish, and nothing is done to
improve them. The oxen are sometimes not larger than an ass; some of
them have a small hump, showing their affinity to the zebu; the dewlap
is large, and the contour neat and symmetrical. The forehead is round,
the horns small and irregularly curved, and the general color dun red.
The buffalo (_shui niu_), or ‘water ox,’ is the largest beast used in
agriculture. It is very docile and unwieldy, larger than an English
ox, and its hairless hide is a light black color; it seeks coolness
and refuge from the gnat in muddy pools dug for its convenience, where
it wallows with its nose just above the surface. Each horn is nearly
semi-circular, and bends downward, while the head is turned back so as
almost to bring the nose horizontal. The herd-boys usually ride it,
and the metaphor of a lad astride a buffalo’s back, blowing the flute,
frequently enters into Chinese descriptions of rural life. The yak
of Tibet is employed as a beast of burden, and to furnish food and
raiment. It is covered with a mantle of hair reaching nearly to the
ground, and the soft pelage is used for making standards among the
Persians, and its tail as fly-flaps or chowries in India; the hair is
woven into carpets. The wild yak (_Poephagus grunniens_) has already
been described. Great herds of these huge bovines roam over the wastes
of Koko-nor, where their dried droppings furnish the only fuel for the
nomads crossing those barren wilds.
The domestic sheep is the broad-tailed species, and furnishes excellent
mutton. The tail is sometimes ten inches long and three or four thick;
and the size of this fatty member is not affected by the temperature.
The sheep are reared in the north by Mohammedans, who prepare the
fleeces for garments by careful tanning; the animal is white, with a
black head. Goats are raised in all parts, but not in large numbers.
The argali and wild sheep of the Ala shan Mountains (_Ovis Burrhel_)
furnish exciting sport in chasing them over their native cliffs, which
they clamber with wonderful agility. Another denizen of those dreary
wilds is the _Antilope picticauda_, a small and tiny species, weighing
about forty pounds, of a dusky gray color, with a narrow yellow stripe
on the flanks. Its range is about the head-waters of the Yangtsz’
River; its swiftness is amazing; it seems absolutely to fly. It scrapes
for itself trenches in which to lie secure from the cold.
Many genera of ruminants are represented in China and the outlying
regions; twenty-seven rare species are enumerated in Swinhoe’s and
David’s lists, of which eleven are antelopes and deer. The range of
some of them is limited to a narrow region, and most of them are
peculiar to the country. The wealthy often keep deer in their grounds,
especially the spotted deer (_Cervus pseudaxis_), from Formosa, whose
coat is found to vary greatly according to sex and age; its name,
_kintsien luh_, or ‘money deer,’ indicates its markings. Mouse-deer are
also reared as pets in the southern provinces.
One common species is the _dzeren_ or _hwang yang_ (_Antilope
gutturosa_), which roams over the Mongolian wilds in large herds, and
furnishes excellent venison. It is heavy in comparison to the gazelle;
horns thick, about nine inches long, annulated to the tips, lyrated,
and their points turned inward. The goitre, which gives it its name, is
a movable protuberance occasioned by the dilatation of the larynx; in
the old males it is much enlarged. The animal takes surprising bounds
when running. Great numbers are killed in the autumn, and their flesh,
skins, and horns are all of service for food, leather, and medicine.
Several kinds of hornless (or nearly hornless) deer, allied to the
musk-deer, exist. One is the river-deer (_Hydropotes_), common near the
Yangtsz’ River, which resembles the pudu of Chili; it is very prolific
on the bottoms and in the islands. Another sort in the northwest
(_Elaphodus_) is intermediary between the muntjacs and deer, having
long, trenchant, canine upper teeth, and a deep chocolate-colored
fur. Three varieties of the musk-deer (_Moschus_) have been observed,
differing a little in their colors, all called _shié_ or _hiang chang_
by the Chinese, and all eagerly hunted for their musk. This perfume
was once deemed to be useful in medicine, and is cited in a Greek
prescription of the sixth century; the abundance of the animal in the
Himalayan regions may be inferred from Tavernier’s statement that he
bought 7673 bags or pods at Patna in one of his journeys over two
hundred years ago. This animal roams over a vast extent of alpine
territory, from Tibet and Shensí to Lake Baikal, and inhabits the
loftiest cliffs and defiles, and makes its way over rugged mountains
with great rapidity. It is not unlike the roe in general appearance,
though the projecting teeth makes the upper lip to look broad. Its
color is grayish-brown and its limbs slight; the hair is coarse and
brittle, almost like spines. The musk is contained in a pouch beneath
the tail on the male, and is most abundant during the rutting season.
He is taken in nets or shot, and the hunters are said to allure him
to destruction by secreting themselves and playing the flute, though
some would say the animal showed very little taste in listening to such
sounds as Chinese flutes usually produce. The musk is often adulterated
with clay or mixed with other substances to moderate its powerful odor.
A singular and interesting member of this family is reared in the great
park south of Peking--a kind of elk with short horns. This large
animal (_Elaphurus Davidianus_), of a gentle disposition, equals in
size the largest deer; its native name, _sz’-puh siang_, indicates that
it is neither a horse, a deer, a camel, nor an ox, but partakes in some
respects of the characteristics of each of them. Its gentle croaking
voice seems to be unworthy of so huge a body; the color is a uniform
fawn or light gray.
~HORSES, ASSES, AND ELEPHANTS.~
The horse is not much larger than the Shetland pony; it is bony and
strong, but kept with little care, and presents the worst possible
appearance in its usual condition of untrimmed coat and mane,
bedraggled fetlocks, and twisted tail. The Chinese language possesses
a great variety of terms to designate the horse; the difference of
age, sex, color, and disposition, all being denoted by particular
characters. Piebald and mottled, white and bay horses are common; but
the improvement of this noble animal is neglected, and he looks sorry
enough compared with the coursers of India. He is principally used for
carrying the post, or for military services; asses and mules being more
employed for draught. He is hardy, feeds on coarse food, and admirably
serves his owners. The mule is well-shaped, and those raised for the
gentry are among the very best in the world for endurance and strength;
dignitaries are usually drawn by sumpter mules. Donkeys are also
carefully raised. Chinese books speak of a mule of a cow and horse, as
well as from the ass and horse, though, of course, no such hybrid as
the former ever existed.
The wild ass, or onager (under the several names by which it is
known in different lands, _kyang_, _djang_, _kulan_, _djiggetai_,
_ghor-khar_, and _yé-lu_), still roams free and untameable. It is
abundant in Koko-nor, gathering in troops of ten to fifty, each under
the lead of a stallion to defend the mares. The flesh is highly prized,
and the difficulty of procuring it adds to the delicacy of the dish;
the color is light chestnut, with white belly.
~THE WILD BOAR AND DOMESTIC HOG.~
Elephants are kept at Peking for show, and are used to draw the state
chariot when the Emperor goes to worship at the Altars of Heaven and
Earth, but the sixty animals seen in the days of Kienlung, by Bell,
have since dwindled to one or two. Van Braam met six going into
Peking, sent thither from Yunnan. The deep forests of that province
also harbor the rhinoceros and tapir. The horn of the former is sought
after as medicine, and the best pieces are carved most beautifully into
ornaments or into drinking cups, which are supposed to sweat whenever
any poisonous liquid is put into them. The tapir is the white and
brown animal found in the Malacca peninsula, and strange stories are
recorded of its eating stones and copper. The wild boar grows to weigh
over four hundred pounds and nearly six feet long. In cold weather
its frozen carcass is brought to Peking, and sold at a high price. A
new species of hog has been found in Formosa, about three feet long,
twenty-one inches high, and showing a dorsal row of large bristles; a
third variety occurs among the novelties discovered in Sz’chuen (_Sus
moupinensis_), having short ears. Wild boars are met with even in the
hills of Chehkiang, and seriously annoy the husbandmen in the lowlands
by their depredations. Deep pits are dug near the base of the hills,
and covered with a bait of fresh grass, and many are annually captured
or drowned in them. They are fond of the bamboo shoots, and persons are
stationed near the groves to frighten them away by striking pieces of
wood together.
[Illustration: The Chinese Pig.]
The Chinese hollow-backed pig is known for its short legs, round body,
crooked back, and abundance of fat; the flesh is the common meat of
the people south of the Yangtsz’ River. The black Chinese breed, as
it is called in England, is considered the best pork raised in that
country. The hog in the northern provinces is a gaunt animal, uniformly
black, and not so well cared for as its southern rival. Piebald pigs
are common in Formosa, resulting from crossing; sometimes animals of
this kind are quite woolly. The Chinese in the south, well aware of the
perverse disposition of the hog, find it much more expeditious to carry
instead of drive him through their narrow streets. For this purpose
cylindrical baskets, open at both ends, are made; and in order to
capture the obstinate brute, it is secured just outside the half-opened
gate of the pen. The men seize him by the tail and pull it lustily; his
rage is roused by the pain, and he struggles; they let go their hold,
whereupon he darts out of the gate to escape, and finds himself snugly
caught. He is lifted up and unresistingly carried off.
[Illustration: Mode of Carrying Pigs.]
The camel is employed in the trade carried on across the desert, and
throughout Mongolia, Manchuria, and northern China near the plateau;
without his aid those regions would be impassible; the passes across
the ranges near Koko-nor, sixteen thousand feet high, are traversed by
his help, though amid suffering and danger. In the summer season it
sheds all its hair, which is gathered for weaving into ropes and rugs;
at this period, large herds pasture on the plateau to recuperate. The
humps at this season hang down the back like empty bags, and the poor
animal presents a distressed appearance during the hot weather. In its
prime condition it carries about six hundred pounds weight, but is not
used to ride upon as is the Arabian species. The two kinds serve man in
one continuous _kafilah_ from the Sea of Tartary across two continents
to Timbuctoo. The Chinese have employed the camel in war, and trained
it to carry small gingalls so that the riders could fire them while
resting on its head, but this antique kind of cavalry has disappeared
with the introduction of better weapons.
~SMALLER ANIMALS AND RODENTS.~
Among the various tribes of smaller animals, the Chinese Empire
furnishes many interesting peculiarities, and few families are
unrepresented. No marsupials have yet been met, and the order of
edentata is still restricted to one instance. Several families in
other orders are rare or wanting, as baboons, spider-monkeys, skunks,
and ichneumons. In the weasel tribe, some new species have been added
to the already long list of valuable fur-bearing animals found in the
mountains--the sable ermine, marten, pole-cat, stoat, etc., whose skins
still repay the hunters. The weasel is common, but not troublesome. The
otter is trained in Sz’chuen to catch fish in the mountain streams with
the docility of a spaniel; another species (_Lutia swinhosi_) occurs
along the islands on the southern coast, while in Hainan Island appears
a kind of clawless otter of a rich brown color above and white beneath;
each of these is about twenty inches long. The furs of all these, and
also the sea-otter, are prepared for garments, especially collars and
neck-wraps.
A kind of mole exists in Sz’chuen, having a muzzle of extreme length,
while the scent of another variety near Peking is so musky as to
suggest its name (_Scaptochirus moschatus_). Muskrats and shrew-mice
are found both north and south; and one western species has only
a rudimentary tail; while another, the _Scaptonyx_, forms an
intermediate species between a mole and a shrew, having a blunt muzzle,
strong fore feet and a long tail; and lastly, a sort fitted for aquatic
habits, with broad hind feet and flattened tail. Tiny hedgehogs are
common even in the streets and by-lanes of Peking, where they find
food and refuge in the alluvial earth. Two or three kinds of marmots
and mole-rats are found in the north and west (_Siphucus Arctomys_),
all specifically unlike their congeners elsewhere. The Chinese have a
curious fancy in respect to one beast, one bird, and one fish, each of
which, they say, requires that two come together to make one complete
animal, viz., the jerboa, the spoonbill and sole-fish; the first
(_Dipus annulatus_) occurs in the sands of northern China, the second
in Formosa, and the third along the coasts.
Many kinds of rodents have been described. The alpine hare (_Lagomys
ogotona_) resembles a marmot in its habits and is met with throughout
the grassy parts of the steppes; its burrows riddle the earth wherever
the little thing gathers, and endangers the hunters riding over it. It
is about the size of a rat, and by its wonderful fecundity furnishes
food to a great number of its enemies--man, beasts, and birds; it is
not dormant, but gathers dry grass for food and warmth during cold
weather; this winter store is, however, often consumed by cattle before
it is stored away. Hares and rabbits are well known. Two species of
the former are plenty on the Mongolian grass-lands, one of which has
very long feet; in winter their frozen bodies are brought to market.
One species is restricted to Hainan Island. Ten or twelve kinds of
squirrels have been described, red, gray, striped, and buff; one with
fringed ears. Their skins are prepared for the furriers, and women wear
winter robes lined with them. Two genera of flying-squirrel (_Pteromys_
and _Sciuropterus_) have been noticed, the latter in Formosa and the
former mostly in the western provinces. Chinese writers have been
puzzled to class the flying-squirrel; they place it among birds, and
assure their readers that it is the only kind which suckles its young
when it flies, and that “the skin held in the hand during parturition
renders delivery easier, because the animal has a remarkably lively
disposition.” The long, dense fur of the _P. alborufous_ makes
beautiful dresses, the white tips of the hair contrasting prettily with
the red ground.
Of the proper rats and mice, more than twenty-five species have been
already described. Some of them are partially arboreal, others have
remarkably long tails, and all but three are peculiar to the country.
A Formosan species, called by Swinhoe the spinous country rat, had
been dedicated to Koxinga, the conqueror of that island; while another
common in Sz’chuen bears the name of _Mus Confucianus_. The extent to
which the Chinese eat rats has been greatly exaggerated by travellers,
for the flesh is too expensive for general use.
One species of porcupine (_Hystrix subcristata_) inhabits the southern
provinces, wearing on its head a purplish-black crest of stout spines
one to five inches long; the bristles are short, but increase in size
and length to eight or nine inches toward the rump; the entire length
is thirty-three inches. The popular notion that the porcupine darts
its quills at its enemies as an effectual weapon is common among the
Chinese.
No animal has puzzled the Chinese more than the scaly ant-eater or
pangolin (_Manis dalmanni_), which is logically considered as a certain
and useful remedy by them, simply because of its oddity. It is regarded
as a fish out of water, and therefore named _ling-lí_, or ‘hill carp,’
also dragon carp, but the most common designation is _chuen shan kiah_,
or the ‘scaly hill borer.’ One author says: “Its shape resembles a
crocodile; it can go in dry paths as well as in the water; it has
four legs. In the daytime it ascends the banks of streams, and lying
down opens its scales wide, putting on the appearance of death, which
induces the ants to enter between them. As soon as they are in, the
animal closes its scales and returns to the water to open them; the
ants float out dead, and he devours them at leisure.” A more accurate
observer says: “It continually protrudes its tongue to entice the ants
on which it feeds;” and true to Chinese physiological deductions,
_similia similibus curantur_, he recommends the scales as a cure for
all antish swellings. He also remarks that the scales are not bony, and
consist of the agglutinated hairs of the body. The adult specimens
measure thirty-three inches. It walks on the sides of the hind feet and
tips of the claws of the fore feet, and can stand upright for a minute
or two. The large scales are held to the skin by a fleshy nipple-like
pimple, which adheres to the base.
~PORPOISES AND WHALES.~
Among the cetaceous inhabitants of the Chinese waters, one of the most
noticeable is the great white porpoise (_Delphinus chinensis_), whose
uncouth tumbles attract the traveller’s notice as he sails into the
estuary of the Pearl River on his way to Hongkong, and again as he
steams up the Yangtsz’ to Hankow. The Chinese fishermen are shy of even
holding it in their nets, setting it free at once, and never pursuing
it; they call it _peh-kí_ and deem its presence favorable to their
success. A species of fin-whale (_Balænoptera_) has been described by
Swinhoe, which ranges the southern coast from the shores of Formosa to
Hainan. Its presence between Hongkong and Amoy induced some foreigners
to attempt a fishery in those waters, but the yield of oil and bone was
too small for their outlay. The native fishermen join their efforts
in the winter, when it resorts to the seas near Hainan, going out in
fleets of small boats from three to twenty-five tons burden each, fifty
boats going together. The line is about three hundred and fifty feet
long, made of native hemp, and fastened to the mast, the end leading
over the bow. The harpoon has one barb, and is attached to a wooden
handle; through an eye near the socket, the line is so fastened along
the handle, that when the whale begins to strain upon it, the handle
draws out upon the line, leaving only the barb buried in the skin.
The boat is sailed directly upon the fish, and the harpooner strikes
from the bow just behind the blow-hole. As soon as the fish is struck
the sail is lowered, the rudder unshipped, and the boat allowed to
drag stern foremost until the prey is exhausted. Other boats come up
to assist, and half a dozen harpoons soon dispatch it. The species
most common there yield about fifty barrels each; the oil, flesh, and
bone are all used for food or in manufactures. The fish resort to the
shallow waters in those seas for food, and to roll and rub on the banks
and reefs, thus ridding themselves of the barnacles and insects which
torment them; they are often seen leaping entirely out of water, and
falling back perpendicularly against the hard bottom.[187]
The Yellow Sea affords a species of cow-fish, or round-headed cachalot
(_Globicephalus Rissii_), which the Japanese capture.[188] Seals have
been observed on the coast of Liautung, but nothing is known of their
species or habits; the skins are common and cheap in the Peking market.
Native books speak of a marine animal in Koko-nor, from which a rare
medicine is obtained, that probably belongs to this family.
This imperfect account of the mammalia known to exist in China has
been drawn from the lists and descriptions inserted in the zoölogical
periodicals of Europe, and may serve to indicate the extent and
richness of the field yet to be investigated. The lists of Swinhoe and
David alone contain nearly two hundred species, and within the past
ten years scores more have been added, but have not exhausted the new
and unexplored zoölogical regions. The emperors of the Mongol dynasty
were very fond of the chase, and famous for their love of the noble
amusement of falconry; Marco Polo says that Kublai employed no less
than seventy thousand attendants in his hawking excursions. Falcons,
kites, and other birds were taught to pursue their quarry, and the
Venetian speaks of eagles trained to stoop at wolves, and of such size
and strength that none could escape their talons.[189] Ranking has
collected[190] a number of notices of the mode and sumptuousness of the
field sports of the Mongols in China and India, but they convey little
more information to the naturalist, than that the game was abundant
and comprised a vast variety. Many species of accipitrine birds are
described in Chinese books, but they are spoken of so vaguely that
nothing definite can be learned from the notices. Few of them are
now trained for sport by the Chinese, except a kind of sparrow-hawk
to amuse dilettanti hunters in showing their skill in catching small
birds. The fondness for sport in the wilds of Manchuria which the old
emperors encouraged two centuries ago has all died out among their
descendants.
Within the last fifteen years a greater advance has been made in the
knowledge of the birds of China than in any other branch of its natural
history, perhaps owing somewhat to their presenting themselves for
capture to the careful observer. The list of described species already
numbers over seven hundred, of which the careful paper of the lamented
Swinhoe, in the _Proceedings of the Zoölogical Society_ for May, 1871,
gives the names of six hundred and seventy-five species, and M. David’s
list, in the _Nouvelles Archives_ for 1871, gives four hundred and
seventy as the number observed north of the River Yangtsz’. The present
sketch must confine itself to selecting a few of the characteristic
birds of the country, for this part of its fauna is as interesting and
peculiar as the mammalia.
~BIRDS OF PREY.~
Among birds of prey are vultures, eagles, and ernes, all of them
widespread and well known. One of the fishing-eagles (_Haliætus macei_)
lives along the banks of the bend of the Yellow River in the Ortous
country. The golden eagle is still trained for the chase by Mongols;
Atkinson accompanied a party on a hunt. “We had not gone far,” he says,
“when several large deer rushed past, bounding over the plain about
three hundred yards from us. In an instant the barkut was unhooded
and his shackles removed, when he sprung from his perch and soared
on high. He rose to a considerable height, and seemed to poise for a
minute, gave two or three flaps with his wings, and swooped off in a
straight line for the prey. I could not see his wings move, but he went
at a fearful rate, and all of us after the deer; when we were about
two hundred yards off, the bird struck the deer, and it gave one bound
and fell. The barkut had struck one talon in his neck, the other into
his back, and was tearing out his liver. The Kirghis sprung from his
horse, slipped the hood over the eagle’s head and the shackles on his
legs, and easily took him off, remounting and getting ready for another
flight.”[191] Other smaller species are trained to capture or worry
hares, foxes, and lesser game.
The falcons which inhabit the gate-towers and trees in Peking form a
peculiar feature of the place, from their impudence in foraging in
the streets and markets, snatching things out of the hands of people,
and startling one by their responsive screams. Much quarrelling goes
on between them and the crows and magpies for the possession of old
nests as the spring comes on. Their services as scavengers insures
them a quiet residence in their eyries on the gate-towers. Six sorts
of harriers (_Circus_), with various species of falcons, bustards,
gledes, and sparrow-hawks, are enumerated. The family of owls is well
represented, and live ones are often exposed for sale in the markets;
its native name of ‘cat-headed hawk’ (_mao-’rh-tao ying_) suggests the
likeness of the two. Out of the fifty-six species of accipitrine birds,
the hawks are much the most numerous.
~SWALLOWS, THRUSHES, LARKS, ETC.~
The great order of Passerinæ has its full share of beautiful and
peculiar representatives, and over four hundred species have been
catalogued. The night-hawks have only three members, but the swallows
count up to fifteen species. Around Peking they gather in vast numbers,
year after year, in the gate-towers, and that whole region was early
known by the name of _Yen Kwoh_, or ‘Land of Swallows.’ The immunity
granted by the natives to this twittering, bustling inmate of their
houses has made it a synonym for domestic life; the phrase _yin yen_
(_lit._ to ‘drink swallows’) means to give a feast. The family of
king-fishers contains several most exquisitely colored birds, and
multitudes of the handsome ones, like the turquoise king-fisher
(_Halcyon smyrnensis_), are killed by the Chinese for the sake of the
plumage. Beautiful feather-work ornaments are made from this at Canton.
The hoopoe, bee-eater, and cuckoo are not uncommon; the first goes by
the name of the _shan ho-shang_, or ‘country priest,’ from its color.
Six species of the last have been recognized, and its peculiar habits
of driving other birds from their nests has made it well known to the
people, who call it _ku-ku_ for the same reason as do the English. On
the upper Yangtsz’ the short-tailed species makes its noisy agitated
flight in order to draw off attention from its nest. The Chinese say
it weeps blood as it bewails its mate all night long. The _Cucutus
striatus_ varies so greatly in different provinces that it has much
perplexed naturalists; all of them are only summer visitants.
The habit of the shrike of impaling its prey on thorns and elsewhere
before devouring it has been noticed by native writers; no less than
eleven species have been observed to cross the country in their
migrations from Siberia to the Archipelago. Of the nuthatches, tree
and wall creepers, wrens, and chats, there is a large variety, and one
species of willow-wren (_Sylvia borealis_) has been detected over the
entire eastern hemisphere; six sorts of redstarts (_Ruticilla_) are
spread over the provinces.
Among the common song birds reared for the household, the thrush and
lark take precedence; their fondness for birds and flowers is one
of the pleasant features of Chinese national character. A kind of
grayish-yellow thrush (_Garrulax perspicilatus_), called _hwa-mí_, or
‘painted eyebrows,’ is common about Canton, where a well-trained bird
is worth several dollars. This genus furnishes six species, but they
are not all equally musical; another kind (_Suthoria webbiana_) is kept
for its fighting qualities, as it will die before it yields. These and
other allied birds furnish the people with much amusement, by teaching
them to catch seeds thrown into the air, jump from perches held in the
hand, and perform tricks of various kinds. A party of gentlemen will
often be seen on the outskirts of a town in mild weather, each one
holding his pet bird, and all busily engaged in catching grasshoppers
to feed them. The spectacle thrush (_Leucodioptrum_) has its eyes
surrounded by a black circle bearing a fancied resemblance to a pair
of spectacles; it is not a very sweet songster, but a graceful, lively
fellow. The species of wagtail and lark known amount to about a score
altogether, but not all of them are equally good singers. The southern
Chinese prefer the lark which comes from Chihlí, and large numbers are
annually carried south. The shrill notes of the field lark (_Alauda
cælivox_ and _arvensis_) are heard in the shops and streets in emulous
concert with other kinds--these larks becoming at times well-nigh
frantic with excitement in their struggles for victory. The Chinese
name of _peh-ling_, or ‘hundred spirits,’ given to the Mongolian lark,
indicates the reputation it has earned as an active songster; and
twenty-five dollars is not an uncommon price for a good one.[192]
~MAGPIES AND PIGEONS.~
The tits (_Parus_) and reedlings (_Emberiza_), together with kindred
genera, are among the most common small birds, fifteen or twenty
species of each having been noticed. In the proper season the latter
are killed for market in such numbers as to excite surprise that they
do not become extinct. In taking many of the warblers, orioles, and
jays, for rearing or sale as fancy birds, the Chinese are very expert
in the use of birdlime. In all parts of the land, the pie family are
deemed so useful as scavengers that they are never molested, and in
consequence become very common. The magpie is a favorite bird, as its
name, _hí tsioh_, or ‘joyous bird,’ indicates, and occurs all over the
land. Ravens, choughs, crows, and blackbirds keep down the insects
and vermin and consume offal. The palace grounds and inclosures of
the nobility in Peking are common resorts for these crows, where they
are safe from harm in the great trees. Every morning myriads of them
leave town with the dawn, returning at evening with increased cawing
and clamor, at times actually darkening the sky with their flocks. A
pretty sight is occasionally seen when two or three thousand young
crows assemble just at sunset in mid-air to chase and play with each
other. The crow is regarded as somewhat of a sacred bird, either from
a service said to have been rendered by one of his race to an ancestor
of the present dynasty, or because he is an emblem of filial duty, from
a notion that the young assist their parents when disabled. The owl,
on the other hand, has an odious name because it is stigmatized as the
bird which eats its dam. One member of the pie family deserving mention
is the long-tailed blue jay of Formosa (_Urocissa_), remarkable for its
brilliant plumage. Another, akin to the sun birds (_Æthopyga dabryi_),
comes from Sz’chuen, a recent discovery. The body is red, the head,
throat, and each side of the neck a brilliant violet, belly yellow,
wings black with the primaries tinted green along the edge, and the
feathers long, tapering, of a black or steel blue.
The _Mainah_, or Indian mino (_Acridotheus_), known by its yellow
carbuncles, which extend like ears from behind the eye, is reared, as
are also three species of _Munia_, at Canton. Sparrows abound in every
province around houses, driving away other birds, and entertaining
the observer by their quarrels and activity. Robins, ouzels, and
tailor-birds are not abundant. None of the humming-birds or birds of
paradise occur, and only one species has hitherto been seen of the
parrot group. Woodpeckers (_Picus_) are of a dozen species, and the
wryneck occasionally attracts the eye of a sportsman. The canary is
reared in great numbers, being known under the names of ‘white swallow’
and ‘time sparrow;’ the chattering Java sparrow and tiny avedavat are
also taught little tricks by their fanciers, in compensation for their
lack of song. The two or three proper parrots are natives of Formosa.
The family of pigeons (_Columbidæ_) is abundantly represented in
fourteen species, and doves form a common household bird; their eggs
are regarded as proper food to prevent small-pox, and sold in the
markets, being also cooked in birdnest and other kinds of soups. The
Chinese regard the dove as eminently stupid and lascivious, but grant
it the qualities of faithfulness, impartiality, and filial duty. The
cock is said to send away its mate on the approach of rain, and let
her return to the nest with fine weather. They have an idea that it
undergoes periodic metamorphoses, but disagree as to the form it
takes, though the sparrow-hawk has the preference.[193] The bird is
most famed, however, for its filial duty, arising very probably from
imperfect observations of the custom of feeding its young with the
macerated contents of its crop; the wood pigeon is said to feed her
seven young ones in one order in the morning, and reversing it in the
evening. Its note tells the husbandman when to begin his labors, and
the decorum observed in the nests and cotes of all the species teach
men how to govern a family and a state. The visitor to Peking is soon
attracted by the æolian notes proceeding from doves which circle around
their homes for a short time (forty or fifty or less in a flock), and
then settle. These birds are called _pan-tien kiao-jin_, or ‘mid-sky
houris,’ and their weird music is caused by ingenious wooden whistles
tied on the rumps of two or three of the flock, which lead the others
and delight themselves. Carrier pigeons are used to some extent, and
training them is a special mystery. One of the prettiest sort is the
rose pigeon, and half a dozen kinds of turtles enliven the village
groves with their gentle notes and peculiar plumage.
No tribe of birds in China, however, equals the Gallinaceous for
its beauty, size, and novelty, furnishing some of the most elegant
and graceful birds in the world, and yet none of them have become
domesticated for food. As a connecting link between this tribe and
the last is the sand-grouse of the desert (_Syrrhaptis paradoxus_),
whose singular combination attracted Marco Polo’s eye. “This bird,
the _barguerlac_, on which the falcons feed,” says he, “is as big as
a partridge, has feet like a parrot’s, tail like a swallow’s, and is
strong in flight.”[194] Abbé Huc speaks of the immense flocks which
scour the plateau.
~VARIETIES OF PHEASANTS.~
The gold and silver pheasants are reared without trouble in all the
provinces, and have so long been identified with the ornithology of
China as to be regarded as typical of its grotesque and brilliant
fauna. Among other pheasants may be mentioned the Impeyan, Reeves,
Argus, Medallion, Amherst, l’Huys, and Pallas, each one vieing with the
other for some peculiarly graceful feature of color and shape, so that
it is hard to decide which is the finest. The Amherst pheasant has the
bearing, the elegance, and the details of form like the gold pheasant,
but the neck, shoulders, back and wing covers are of a sparkling
metallic green, and each feather ends in a belt of velvet black. A
little red crest allies it to the gold pheasant, and a pretty silvery
ruff with a black band, a white breast and belly, and a tail barred
with brown, green, white, and red bands, complete the picturesque
dress. Hidden away in these Tibetan wilds are other pheasants that
dispute the palm for beauty, among which four species of the eared
pheasant (_Crossoptilon_) attract notice. One is of a pure white, with
a black tail curled up and spread out like a plume, and is well called
the snow pheasant. Another is the better known Pallas pheasant, nearly
as large as a turkey, distinguished by ear-like appendages or wattles
behind the head, and a red neck above a white body, whence its native
name of _ho-kí_, or ‘fire hen.’ Another genus (_Lophophorus_) contains
some elegant kinds, of which the l’Huys pheasant is new, and noted for
a coppery-green tail bespangled with white. The longer known Reeves
pheasant is sought for by the natives for the sake of its white and
yellow-barred tail feathers, which are used by play actors to complete
a warrior’s dress; Col. Yule proves a reference to it in Marco Polo
from this part of its plumage, which the Venetian states to be ten
palms in length--not far beyond the truth, as they have been seen seven
feet long.[195] It is a long time for a bird of so much beauty to have
been unknown, from 1350 to 1808, when Mr. Thomas Beale procured a
specimen in Canton, and sent others to England in 1832; Mr. Reeves took
it thither, and science has recorded it in her annals. As New Guinea is
the home of the birds of paradise, so do the Himalayas contain most of
these superb pheasants and francolins, each tribe serving as a foil and
comparison with the Creator’s handiwork in the other.
The island of Formosa has furnished a second species, Swinhoe’s
pheasant, of the same genus as the silver pheasant (_Euplocamus_),
and another smaller kind (_Phasianus formosanus_); the list is also
increased by fresh acquisitions from Yunnan and Cochinchina through
Dr. Anderson. This is not, however, the place where we may indulge in
details respecting all of these gorgeous birds; we conclude, then,
with the Medallion, or horned pheasant. It has a “beautiful membrane
of resplendent colors on the neck, which is displayed or contracted
according as the cock is more or less roused. The hues are chiefly
purple, with bright red and green spots, which vary in intensity
according to the degree of excitement.”
The peacock, though not a native, is reared in all parts; it bears the
name of _kung tsioh_, sometimes rendered ‘Confucius’ bird,’ though
it is more probable that the name means the great or magnificent
bird. The use of the tail feathers to designate official rank, which
probably causes a large consumption of them, does not date previous to
the present dynasty. Poultry is reared in immense quantities, but the
assortment in China does not equal in beauty, excellence, and variety
the products of Japanese culture. The silken cock, the vane of whose
plume is so minutely divided as to resemble curly hair, is probably
the same sort with that described by some writers as having wool like
sheep. The Mongols succeed very well in rearing the tall, Shanghai
breed, and their uniform cold winter enables them to preserve frozen
flesh without much difficulty. The smaller gallinaceous birds already
described, grouse, quails, francolins, partridges, sand-snipe, etc.,
amount to a score or more species, ranging all over the Empire. The red
partridge is sometimes tamed to keep as a house bird with the fowls.
The Chinese quail (_Coturnix_) has a brown back, sprinkled with black
spots and white lines, blackish throat and chestnut breast. It is
reared for fighting in south China, and, like its bigger Gallic rival,
is soon eaten if it allows itself to be beaten.
~FAMILY OF WADERS IN CHINA.~
The widespread family of waders sends a few of its representatives from
Europe to China, but most of the members are Oriental. The marshes and
salt lakes of Mongolia attract enormous numbers of migratory birds in
summer to rear their young in safety, in the midst of abundant food.
Col. Prejevalsky watched the arrival of vast flocks early in February,
and thus describes their appearance: “For days together they sped
onward, always from the W.S.W., going further east in search of open
water, and at last settling down among the open pools; their favorite
haunts were the flat mud banks overgrown with low saline bushes. Here
every day vast flocks would congregate toward evening, crowding among
the ice; the noise they made on rising was like a hurricane, and at a
distance they resembled a thick cloud. Flocks of one, two, three, and
even five thousand, followed one another in quick succession, hardly a
minute apart. Tens and hundreds of thousands, even millions of birds
appeared at Lob-nor during the fortnight ending the 21st of February,
when the flight was at its height. What prodigious quantities of food
must be necessary for such numbers!”[196] Wading and web-footed birds
all harmlessly mix in these countless hosts, but hawks, eagles, and
animals gather too, to prey on them.
Among the noticeable waders of China, the white Manchurian or Montigny
crane is one of the finest and largest; it is the official insignia
of the highest rank of civilians. Five species of crane (_Grus_) are
recognized, and seven of plovers, together with as many more allied
genera, including an avocet, bustard, and oyster-catcher. Curlews
abound along the flat shores of the Gulf of Pechele, and are so tame
that they race up and down with the naked children at low tide, hunting
for shell-fish; as the boy runs his arm into the ooze the curlew pokes
his long bill up to the eyes in the same hole, each of them grasping a
crab. Godwits and sandpipers enliven the coasts with their cries, and
seven species of gambets (_Totanus_) give them the largest variety of
their family group, next to the snipes (_Tringa_), of which nine are
recorded. Herons, egrets, ibis, and night-herons occur, and none of
them are discarded for food. At Canton, a pure white egret is often
exposed for sale in the market, standing on a shelf the livelong
day, with its eyelids sewed together--a pitiable sight. Its slender,
elegant shape is imitated by artists in making bronze candlesticks.
The singular spoonbill (_Platalea_) is found in Formosa, and the
jacana in southwestern China. The latter is described by Gould as
“distinguished not less by the grace of its form than its adaptation to
the localities which nature has allotted it. Formed for traversing the
morass and lotus-covered surface of the water, it supports itself upon
the floating weeds and leaves by the extraordinary span of the toes,
aided by the unusual lightness of the body.”[197] Gallinules, crakes,
and rails add to this list, but the flamingo has not been recorded.
In the last order, sixty-five species of web-footed birds are
enumerated by naturalists as occurring in China. The fenny margins of
lakes and rivers, and the seacoast marshes, afford food and shelter to
flocks of water-fowl. Ten separate species of duck are known, of which
four or five are peculiar. The whole coast from Hainan to Manchuria
swarms with gulls, terns, and grebes, while geese, swans, and mallards
resort to the inland waters and pools to rear their young. Ducks are
sometimes caught by persons who first cover their heads with a gourd
pierced with holes, and then wade into the water where the birds are
feeding; these, previously accustomed to empty calabashes floating
about on the water, allow the fowler to approach, and are pulled under
without difficulty. The wild goose is a favorite bird with native
poets. The reputation for conjugal fidelity has made its name and
that of the mandarin duck emblems of that virtue, and a pair of one
or the other usually forms part of wedding processions. The epithet
_mandarin_ is applied to this beautiful fowl, and also to a species of
orange, simply because of their excellence over other varieties of the
same genus, and not, as some writers have inferred, because they are
appropriated to officers of government.
The _yuen-yang_, as the Chinese call this duck, is a native of the
central provinces. It is one of the most variegated birds known,
vieing with the humming-birds and parrots in the diversified tints
of its plumage, if it does not equal them for brilliancy. The drake
is the object of admiration, his partner being remarkably plain, but
during the summer season he also loses much of his gay vesture. Mr.
Bennet tells a pleasant story in proof of the conjugal fidelity of
these birds, the incidents of which occurred in Mr. Beale’s aviary
at Macao. A drake was stolen one night, and the duck displayed the
strongest marks of despair at her loss, retiring into a corner and
refusing all nourishment, as if determined to starve herself to death
from grief. Another drake undertook to comfort the disconsolate widow,
but she declined his attentions, and was fast becoming a martyr to her
attachment, when her mate was recovered and restored to her. Their
reunion was celebrated by the noisiest demonstrations of joy, and the
duck soon informed her lord of the gallant proposals made to her during
his absence; in high dudgeon, he instantly attacked the luckless bird
which would have supplanted him, and so maltreated him as to cause his
death.
~BEALE’S AVIARY.~
The aviary here mentioned was for many years, up to 1838, one of the
principal attractions of Macao. Its owner, Mr. Thomas Beale, had
erected a wire cage on one side of his house, having two apartments,
each of them about fifty feet high, and containing several large trees;
small cages and roosts were placed on the side of the house under
shelter, and in one corner a pool afforded bathing conveniences to the
water-fowl. The genial climate obviated the necessity of any covering,
and only those species which would agree to live quietly together were
allowed the free range of the two apartments. The great attraction of
the collection was a living bird of paradise, which, at the period of
the owner’s death, in 1840, had been in his possession eighteen years,
and enjoyed good health at that time. The collection during one season
contained nearly thirty specimens of pheasants, and besides these
splendid birds, there were upward of one hundred and fifty others, of
different sorts, some in cages, some on perches, and others going loose
in the aviary. In one corner a large cat had a hole, where she reared
her young; her business was to guard the whole from the depredations of
rats. A magnificent peacock from Damaun, a large assortment of macaws
and cockatoos, a pair of magpies, another of the superb crowned pigeons
(_Goura coronata_), one of whom moaned itself to death on the decease
of its mate, and several Nicobar ground pigeons, were also among the
attractions of this curious and valuable collection.
Four or five kinds of grebe and loon frequent the coast, of which the
_Podiceps cristatus_, called _shui nu_, or ‘water slave,’ is common
around Macao. The same region affords sustenance to the pelican, which
is seen standing motionless for hours on the rocks, or sailing on
easy wing over the shallows in search of food. Its plumage is nearly
a pure white, except the black tips of the wings; its height is about
four feet, and the expanse of the wings more than eight feet. The
bill is flexible like whalebone, and the pouch susceptible of great
dilatation. Gulls abound on the northeast coasts, and no one who has
seen it can forget the beautiful sight on the marshes at the entrance
of the Pei ho, where myriads of white gulls assemble to feed, to preen,
and to quarrel or scream--the bright sun rendering their plumage
like snow. The albatross, black tern, petrel, and noddy increase the
list of denizens in Chinese waters, but offer nothing of particular
interest.[198]
[Illustration: The Kí-lin, or Unicorn.]
~THE KÍ-LIN AND FUNG-HWANG.~
There are four fabulous animals which are so often referred to by
the Chinese as to demand a notice. The _kí-lin_ is one of these and
is placed at the head of all hairy animals; as the _fung-hwang_ is
pre-eminent among feathered races; the dragon and tortoise among the
scaly and shelly tribes; and _man_ among naked animals! The naked,
hairy, feathered, shelly, and scaly tribes constitute the quinary
system of ancient Chinese naturalists. The _kí-lin_ is pictured as
resembling a stag in its body and a horse in its hoofs, but possessing
the tail of an ox and a parti-colored or scaly skin. A single horn
having a fleshy tip proceeds out of the forehead. Besides these
external marks to identify it, the _kí-lin_ exhibits great benevolence
of disposition toward other living animals, and appears only when wise
and just kings, like Yau and Shun, or sages like Confucius, are born,
to govern and teach mankind. The Chinese description presents many
resemblances to the popular notices of the unicorn, and the independent
origin of their account adds something to the probability that a
single-horned equine or cervine animal has once existed.[199]
[Illustration: The Fung-hwang, or Phœnix.]
Cuvier expresses the opinion that Pliny’s description of the Arabian
phœnix was derived from the golden pheasant, though others think the
Egyptian plover is the original type. From his likening it to an eagle
for size, having a yellow neck with purple, a blue tail varied with
red feathers, and a richly feathered tufted head, it is more probable
that the Impeyan pheasant was Pliny’s type. The Chinese _fung-hwang_,
or phœnix, is probably based on the Argus pheasant. It is described
as adorned with every color, and combines in its form and motions
whatever is elegant and graceful, while it possesses such a benevolent
disposition that it will not peck or injure living insects, nor tread
on growing herbs. Like the _kí-lin_, it has not been seen since the
halcyon days of Confucius, and, from the account given of it, seems to
have been entirely fabulous. The etymology of the characters implies
that it is the emperor of all birds. One Chinese author describes it
“as resembling a wild swan before and a unicorn behind; it has the
throat of a swallow, the bill of a cock, the neck of a snake, the tail
of a fish, the forehead of a crane, the crown of a mandarin drake, the
stripes of a dragon, and the vaulted back of a tortoise. The feathers
have five colors, which are named after the five cardinal virtues,
and it is five cubits in height; the tail is graduated like Pandean
pipes, and its song resembles the music of that instrument, having five
modulations.” A beautiful ornament for a lady’s head-dress is sometimes
made in the shape of the _fung-hwang_, and somewhat resembles a similar
ornament, imitating the vulture, worn by the ladies of ancient Egypt.
~THE LUNG, OR DRAGON.~
The _lung_, or dragon, is a familiar object on articles from China.
It furnishes a comparison among them for everything terrible,
imposing, and powerful; and being taken as the imperial coat of arms,
consequently imparts these ideas to his person and state. The type of
the dragon is probably the boa-constrictor or sea-serpent, or other
similar monster, though the researches of geology have brought to
light such a near counterpart of the _lung_ in the iguanadon as to
tempt one to believe that this has been the prototype. There are three
dragons, the _lung_ in the sky, the _lí_ in the sea, and the _kiao_
in the marshes. The first is the only _authentic_ species, according
to the Chinese; it has the head of a camel, the horns of a deer, eyes
of a rabbit, ears of a cow, neck of a snake, belly of a frog, scales
of a carp, claws of a hawk, and palm of a tiger. On each side of
the mouth are whiskers, and its beard contains a bright pearl; the
breath is sometimes changed into water and sometimes into fire, and
its voice is like the jingling of copper pans. The dragon of the sea
occasionally ascends to heaven in water-spouts, and is the ruler of all
oceanic phenomena.[200] The dragon is worshipped and feared by Chinese
fishermen, and their _lung-wang_, or ‘dragon king,’ answers to Neptune
in western mythology; perhaps the ideas of all classes toward it is a
modified relic of the widespread serpent worship of ancient times. The
Chinese suppose that elfs, demons, and other supernatural beings often
transform themselves into snakes; and M. Julien has translated a fairy
story of this sort, called _Blanche et Bleue_. The _kwei_, or tortoise,
has so few fabulous qualities attributed to it that it hardly comes
into the list; it was, according to the story, an attendant on Pwanku
when he chiselled out the world. A semi-classical work, the _Shan-hai
King_, or ‘Memoirs upon the Mountains and Seas,’ contains pictures
and descriptions of these and kindred monsters, from which the people
now derive strange notions respecting them, the book having served to
embody and fix for the whole nation what the writer anciently found
floating about in the popular legends of particular localities.
A species of alligator (_A. sinensis_) has been described by Dr. A.
Fauvel in the _N. C. Br. R. A. Soc. Journal_, No. XIII., 1879, in
which he gives many historical and other notices of its existence.
Crocodiles are recorded as having been seen in the rivers of Kwangtung
and Kwangsí, but none of this family attain a large size.
Marco Polo’s account of the huge serpent of Yunnan,[201] having two
forelegs near the head, and one claw like that of a lion or hawk on
each, and a mouth big enough to swallow a man whole, referring no
doubt to the crocodile, is a good instance of the way in which truth
and fable were mingled in the accounts of those times. The flesh is
still eaten by the Anamese, as he says it was in his day. A gigantic
salamander, analogous to the one found in Japan (the _Sieboldia_), has
suggested it as the type of the dragon which figures on the Chinese
national flag. Small lizards abound in the southern parts, and the
variety and numbers of serpents, both land and water, found in the
maritime provinces, are hardly exceeded in any country in the world;
they are seldom poisonous. A species of naja is the only venomous snake
yet observed at Chusan, and the hooded cobra is one of the few yet
found around Canton. Another species frequents the banks, and is driven
out of the drains and creeks by high water into the houses. A case is
mentioned by Bennet of a Chinese who was bitten, and to whose wound the
mashed head of the reptile had been applied as a poultice, a mode of
treatment which probably accelerated his death by mixing more of the
poison diluted in the animal’s blood with the man’s own blood. It is,
however, rare to hear of casualties from this source. This snake is
called ‘black and white,’ from being marked in alternate bands of those
two colors. A species of acrochordon, remarkable for its abrupt, short
tail, has been noticed near Macao.
It is considered felicitous by the Buddhist priests to harbor snakes
around their temples; and though the natives do not play with poisonous
serpents like the Hindoos, they often handle or teach them simple
tricks. The common frog is taken in great numbers for food. Tortoises
and turtles from fresh and salt water are plenty along the coast, while
both the emys and trionyx are kept in tubs in the streets, where they
grow to a large size. An enormous carnivorous tortoise inhabits the
waters of Chehkiang near the ocean. The natives have strange ideas
concerning the hairy turtle of Sz’chuen, and regard it as excellent
medicine; it is now known that the supposed hair consists of confervæ,
whose spores, lodged on the shell, have grown far beyond the animal’s
body.
~ICHTHYOLOGY OF CHINA.~
The ichthyology of China is one of the richest in the world, though it
may be so more from the greater proportion of food furnished by the
waters than from any real superabundance of the finny tribes. The offal
thrown from boats near cities attracts some kinds to those places, and
gives food and employment to multitudes. Several large collections of
fishes have been made in Canton, and Mr. Reeves deposited one of the
richest in the British Museum, together with a series of drawings
made by native artists from living specimens; they have been described
by Sir John Richardson in the _Report of the British Association for
the Advancement of Science, for 1845_. In this paper he enumerates one
hundred and ninety genera and six hundred and seventy-one species,
nearly all of which are marine or come out to sea at certain times.
Since it was prepared great accessions to this branch have been made
from the inland waters, so that probably a thousand sorts in all have
been observed. The salmon and cod families are comparatively scarce,
but the mackerel, goby, and herring families are very abundant. The
variety of fish is so great in Macao, that if one is willing to eat all
that are brought to market, as the Chinese do (including the sharks,
torpedoes, gudgeons, etc.), one can have a different species every day
in the year. It may with truth be said that the Chinese eat nearly
every living thing found in the water, some of the hideous fishing
frogs or gurnards alone excepted.
The cartilaginous fishes, sharks, rays, and saw-fish, are abundant on
the sea-coast. The sturgeon is not common at the south, but in the
winter it is brought from the Songari and other rivers to Peking for
the imperial table, being highly prized by Chinese epicures. There is
found in the Yangtsz’ a singular species of sturgeon, the _yiu yü_,
which lies under the banks in still water and sucks its prey into a
sac-like mouth projecting like a cusp under the long snout; it has no
scales, and is four feet long. Common sturgeon, weighing a thousand
pounds, are caught in this river. The hammer-headed and zebra shark
(_Cestracion zebra_) are seen in the markets at Macao; also huge
skates, some of them measuring five feet across; the young of all these
species are regarded as particularly good eating. A kind of torpedo
(_Narcine lingula_) is not uncommon on the southern coast, but the
natives do not seem to be aware of any electrical properties. It is
said that the fishermen sometimes destroy the shark by boiling a melon
and throwing it out as a bait; when swallowed, the heat kills the fish.
The true cod has not been observed on the Chinese coast, but several
species of serrani (as _Plectropoma susuki_, _Serranus shihpan_,
_Megachir_, etc.), generally called _shih-pan_ by the natives, and
garoupa by foreigners, are common off Canton, and considered to be most
delicate fare. Another fine fish is the _Polynemus tetradactylus_, or
bynni-carp, often called salmon by foreigners; isinglass is prepared
from its skin. The pomfret, or _tsang yü_ (_Stromateus argenteus_),
is a good pan-fish, but hardly so delicate as the sole, many fine
species of which abound along the whole coast. Besides these, two or
three species of mackerel, the _Sciœna lucida_, an ophicephalus, the
mullet, and the ‘white rice fish’ occur. The shad is abundant off the
Yangtsz’, and is superior to the American species; Chinese epicures
will sometimes pay fifty dollars for the first one of the season.
The carp family (_Cyprinidæ_) is very abundant in the rivers and
lakes of China, and some species are reared in fish-pools and tubs
to a monstrous size; fifty-two species are mentioned in Richardson’s
list. The gold-fish is the most celebrated, and has been introduced
into Europe, where it was first seen toward the end of the seventeenth
century. The Chinese say that its native place is Lake Tsau, in the
province of Nganhwui. The effects of domestication in changing the
natural form of this fish are great; specimens are often seen without
any dorsal fin, and the tail and other fins tufted and lobed to such
a degree as to resemble artificial appendages or wings rather than
natural organs. The eyes are developed till the globe projects beyond
the socket like goggles, presenting an extraordinary appearance. Some
of them are so fantastic, indeed, that they would be regarded as lusus
naturæ were they not so common. The usual color is a ruddy golden hue,
but both sexes exhibit a silvery or blackish tint at certain stages
of their growth; and one variety, called the silver-fish, retains
this shade all its life. The Chinese keep it in their garden ponds,
or in earthern jars, in which are placed rocks covered with moss, and
overgrown with tufts of ferns, to afford them a retreat from the light.
When the females spawn, the eggs must be removed to a shallow vessel,
lest the males devour them, where the heat of the sun hatches them; the
young are nearly black, but gradually become whitish or reddish, and
at last assume a golden or silvery hue. Specimens upward of two feet
long have been noticed, and those who rear them emulate each other in
producing new varieties.
~METHODS OF REARING FISH.~
The rearing of fish is an important pursuit, the spawn being collected
with the greatest care and placed in favorable positions for hatching.
The _Bulletin Universel_ for 1829 asserts that in some part of China
the spawn so taken is carefully placed in an empty egg-shell and the
hole closed; the egg is then replaced in the nest, and, after the hen
has sat a few days upon it, reopened, and the spawn placed in vessels
of water warmed by the sun, where it soon hatches.
The immense fleets of fishing boats on the Yangtsz’ and its tributaries
indicate the finny supplies its waters afford. A species of pipe-fish
(_Fistularia immaculata_), of a red color, and the gar-pike, with
green bones, are found about Canton; as are also numerous beautiful
parrot-fish and sun-fish (_Chætodon_). An ingenious mode of taking its
prey is practised by a sort of chætodon, or chelmon; it darts a drop of
water at the flies or other insects lighting on the bank near the edge,
in such a manner as to knock them off, when they are devoured. All the
species of ophicephalus, or _săng yü_, so remarkable for their tenacity
of life, are reared in tanks and pools, and are hawked alive through
the streets.
Eels, mullets, alewives or file-fish, breams, gudgeons, and many other
kinds, are seen in the markets. Few things eaten by the Chinese look
more repulsive than the gobies as they lie wriggling in the slime which
keeps them alive; one species (_Trypauchen vagina_), called _chu pih
yü_, or ‘vermilion pencil-fish,’ is a cylindrical fish, six or eight
inches long, of a dark red color; its eyes protrude so that it can see
behind, like a giraffe. Some kinds of gobies construct little hillocks
in the ooze, with a depression on the top, in which their spawn is
hatched by the sun; at low tide they skip about on the banks like young
frogs, and are easily captured with the hand. A delicious species of
Saurus (_Leucosoma Chinensis_), called _pih fan yü_, or ‘white rice
fish,’ and _yin yü_, or silver-fish, ranges from Hakodate to Canton.
It is six or eight inches long, the body scaleless and transparent, so
that the muscles, intestines, and spinal column can be seen without
dissection; the bones of the head are thin, flexible, and diaphanous.
Many species of file-fish, sole-fish, anchovy, and eels, are captured
on the coast. Vast quantities of dried fish, like the stock fish in
Sweden, are sent inland to sell in regions where fish are rare. The
most common sorts are the perch, sun-fish, gurnard, and hair-tail
(_Trichinrus_).
~SHELL-FISH AND INSECTS OF CHINA.~
Shell-fish and mollusks, both fresh and salt, are abundant in the
market. Oysters of a good quality are common along the coast, and a
species of mactra, or sand-clam, is fished up near Macao. The Pearl
River affords two or three kinds of fresh-water shell-fish (_Mytilus_),
and snails (_Voluta_) are plenty in all pools. The crangons, prawns,
shrimps, crabs, and other kinds of crustacea met with, are not less
abundant than palatable; one species of craw-fish, as large as (but not
taking the place of) the lobster, called _lung hai_, or ‘dragon crab,’
together with cuttle-fish of three or four kinds, and the king-crab
(_Polyphemus_), are all eaten. The inland waters produce many species
of shells, and the new genus theliderma, allied to the unio, was formed
by Mr. Benson, of Calcutta, from specimens obtained of a shopkeeper
at Canton. The land shells are abundant, especially various kinds of
snails (_Helix_, _Lymnea_, etc.); twenty-two species of helix alone
were contained in a small collection sent from Peking, in which region
all this kind of food is well known. A catalogue of nearly sixty
shells obtained in Canton is given in Murray’s _China_,[202] but it is
doubtful whether even half of them are found in the country, as the
shops there are supplied in a great degree from the Archipelago. Dr.
Cantor[203] mentions eighty-eight genera of shells occurring between
Canton and Chusan. Pearls are found in China, and Marco Polo speaks
of a salt lake, supposed now to be in Yunnan, which produced them in
such quantity that the fishery in his day was farmed out and restricted
lest they should become too cheap and common. In Chehkiang the natives
take a large kind of clam (_Alasmodonta_) and gently attach leaden
images of Buddha under the fish, after which it is thrown back into
the water. Nacre is deposited over the lead, and after a few months the
shells are retaken, cleaned, and then sent abroad to sell as proofs of
the power and presence of Buddha. The _Quarterly Review_ speaks of a
mode practised by the Chinese of making pearls by dropping a string of
small mother-of-pearl beads into the shell, which in a year are covered
with the pearly crust. Leeches are much used by native physicians; the
hammer-headed leech has been noticed at Chusan.
The insects of China are almost unknown to the naturalist. In Dr.
Cantor’s collection, from Chusan, there are fifty-nine genera
mentioned, among which tropical forms prevail; there are also six
genera of arachnidæ, and the list of spiders could easily be multiplied
to hundreds; among them are many showing most splendid coloring.
One large and strong species is affirmed to capture small birds on
the trees. Locusts sometimes commit extensive ravages, and no part
of the land is free from their presence, though their depredations
do not usually reach over a great extent of country, or often for
two successive years. They are, however, sufficiently troublesome
to attract the notice of the government, as the edict against them,
inserted in another chapter, proves. Centipedes, scorpions, and some
other species in the same order are known, the former being most
abundant in the central and western regions, where scorpions are rare.
The most valuable insect is the silkworm, which is reared in nearly
every province, and the silk from other wild worms found on the oak and
ailantus in Shantung, Sz’chuen, and elsewhere also gathered; the proper
silkworm itself has been met with to some extent in northern Shansí
and Mongolia. Many other insects of the same order (_Lepidopteræ_)
exist, but those sent abroad have been mostly from the province
of Kwangtung. Eastward of the city of Canton, on a range of hills
called Lofau shan, large butterflies and night moths of immense size
and brilliant coloring are captured. One of these insects (_Bombyx
atlas_) measures about nine inches across; the ground color is a rich
and varied orange brown, and in the centre of each wing there is a
triangular transparent spot, resembling a piece of mica. Sphinxes
of great beauty and size are common, and in their splendid coloring,
rapid noiseless flight from flower to flower, at the close of the day,
remind one of the humming-bird. Some families are more abundant than
others; the coleopterous exceed the lepidopterous, and the range of
particular tribes in each of these is often very limited. The humid
regions of Sz’chuen furnished a great harvest of beautiful butterflies
to M. David, while the lamellicorn beetles and cerambycidæ are the most
common in the north and central parts.
~COLEOPTERÆ AND THE WAX WORM.~
Many tribes of coleopterous insects are abundant, but the number of
species yet identified is trifling. Several water beetles, and others
included under the same general designation, have been found in
collections sold at Canton, but owing to the careless manner in which
those boxes are filled, very few specimens are perfect, the antennæ
or tarsi being broken. The mole-cricket occurs everywhere. The common
cricket is caught and sold in the markets for gambling; persons of all
ranks amuse themselves by irritating two of these insects in a bowl,
and betting upon the prowess of their favorites. The cicada, or broad
locust, is abundant, and its stridulous sound is heard from trees and
groves with deafening loudness. Boys tie a straw around the abdomen
of the male, so as to irritate the sounding apparatus, and carry it
through the streets in this predicament, to the great annoyance of
every one. This insect was well known to the Greeks; the ancient
distich--
“Happy the cicadas’ lives,
For they all have voiceless wives,”
hints at their knowledge of this sexual difference, as well as
intimates their opinion of domestic quiet. Again it forms the subject
of Meleager’s invocation:
“O shrill-voiced insect! that with dew-drops meet,
Inebriate, dost in desert woodlands sing;
Perch’d on the spray top with indented feet,
Thy dusky body’s echoings harp-like ring.”
The lantern-fly (_Fulgora_) is less common than the cicada. It is
easily recognized by its long cylindrical snout, arched in an upward
direction, its greenish reticulated elytra, and orange-yellow wings
with black extremities; but its appearance in the evening is far
from being as luminous as are the fire-fly and glow-worm of South
America. The _Peh lah shu_, or ‘white wax tree’ (_Fraxinus chinensis_),
affords nourishment to an insect of this order called _Coccus pela_.
The larvæ alone furnish the wax, the secretion being the result of
disease. Sir Geo. L. Staunton first described the fly from specimens
seen in Annam in 1795, where the natives collected a white powder
from the bark of the tree on which it occurs. Daniel Hanbury figured
the insect and tree with the deposit of crude wax on the limbs, all
obtained in Chekhiang province.[204] Baron Richthofen speaks of this
industry in Sz’chuen as one furnishing employment to great multitudes.
The department of Kia-ting furnishes the best wax, as its climate is
warmer than Chingtu. The eggs of the insect are gathered in Kien-chang
and Ning-yuen, where the tree flourishes on which it deposits them,
and its culture is carefully attended to. The insect lives and breeds
on this evergreen, and in April the eggs are collected and carried
up to Kia-ting by porters. This journey is mostly performed by night
so as to avoid the risk of hatching their loads; 300 eggs weigh one
tael. They are instantly placed on the same kind of tree, six or seven
balls of eggs done up in palm-leaf bags and hung on the twigs. In a
few days the larvæ begin to spread over the branches, but do not touch
the leaves; the bark soon becomes incrusted with a white powder, and
is not disturbed till August. The loaded branches are then cut off and
boiled, when the wax collects on the surface of the water, is skimmed
off, and melted again to be poured into pans for sale. A tael’s weight
of eggs will produce two or three catties of the translucent, highly
crystalline wax; it sells there for five mace a tael and upward. The
annual income is reckoned at Tls. 2,000,000.[205] The purposes to which
this singular product are applied include all those of beeswax. Pills
are ingeniously enclosed in small globes of it, and candles of every
size made. Wax is also gathered from wild and domestic bees, but honey
is not much used; a casing of wax, colored with vermilion, is used to
inclose the tallow of great painted candles set before the idols and
tablets.
The _Chinese Herbal_ contains a singular notion, prevalent also in
India, concerning the generation of the sphex, or solitary wasp. When
the female lays her eggs in the clayey nidus she makes in houses, she
encloses the dead body of a caterpillar in it for the subsistence
of the worms when they hatch. Those who observed her entombing the
caterpillar did not look for the eggs, and immediately concluded that
the sphex took the worm for her progeny, and say that as she plastered
up the hole of the nest, she hummed a constant song over it, saying,
“_Class with me! Class with me!_”--and the transformation gradually
took place, and was perfected in its silent grave by the next spring,
when a winged wasp emerged to continue its posterity in the same
mysterious way.[206]
White ants are troublesome in the warmer parts, and annoy the people
there by eating up the coffins in the graves. They form passages under
ground, and penetrate upward into the woodwork of houses, and the whole
building may become infested with them almost before their existence
is suspected. They will even eat their way into fruit trees, cabbages,
and other plants, destroying them while in full vigor. Many of the
internal arrangements of the nests of bees and ants, and their peculiar
instincts, have been described by Chinese writers with considerable
accuracy. The composition of the characters for the bee, ant, and
mosquito, respectively, denote the _awl_ insect, the _righteous_
insect, and the _lettered_ insect; referring thereby to the sting of
the first, the orderly working and subordination of the second, and the
letter-like markings on the wings of the latter. Mosquitoes are plenty,
and gauze curtains are considered to be a more necessary part of bed
furniture than a mattress.
~RESEARCHES IN THE BOTANY OF CHINA.~
The botany of China is rather better known than its zoölogy, though
vast and unexplored fields, like that reaching from Canton to Silhet
and Assam, still invite the diligent collector to gather, examine,
and make known their treasures. One of the earliest authors in this
branch was Père Loureiro, a Portuguese for thirty-six years missionary
in Cochinchina, and professor of mathematics and physic in the
royal palace. He gathered a large herbarium there and in southern
Kwangtung, and published his _Flora Cochinchinensis_ in 1790, in which
he described one hundred and eighty-four genera and more than three
hundred new species. The only other work specially devoted to Chinese
botany is Bentham’s _Flora Hongkongensis_, published in 1861. The
materials for it were collected by Drs. Hinds, Hance and Harland, Col.
Champion, and others, during the previous twenty years, and amounted
in all to upward of five thousand specimens, gathered exclusively on
the island. Since its publication, Dr. Hance has added to our accurate
knowledge of the Chinese flora many new specimens growing in other
parts of the Empire, whose descriptions are scattered through various
publications. Père David, during his extensive travels in northern
China, gathered thousands of specimens which have yet to be carefully
described. The Russian naturalists Maximowitch, Bunge, Tatarinov,
Bretschneider, Prejevalsky, and others have largely increased our
knowledge of the plants of Mongolia, the Amur basin, and the region
about Peking. The first named has issued a separate work on the Amur
flora, but most of the papers of these scientists are to be found in
periodicals. In very early days, China was celebrated for the camphor,
varnish, tallow, oil, tea, cassia, dyes, etc., obtained from its
plants; and the later monographs of professed botanists, issued since
Linneus looked over the two hundred and sixty-four species brought by
his pupil Osbeck in 1750, down to the present day, have altogether
given immense assistance to a thorough understanding of their nature
and value.
Mr. Bentham’s observations on the range of the plants collected in
the island of Hongkong represent its flora, in general character,
as most like that of tropical Asia, of which it offers, in numerous
instances, the northern limit. The damp, wooded ravines on the north
and west furnish plants closely allied to those of Assam and Sikkim;
while other species, in considerable numbers, have a much more tropical
character, extending with little variation over the Archipelago,
Malaysia, Ceylon, and even to tropical Africa, but not into India.
Within two degrees north of the island these tropical features (so
far as is known) almost entirely cease, and out of the one thousand
and fifty-six species described in the _Flora Hongkongensis_, only
about eighty have been found in Japan; thus indicating that very few
of the plants known to range across from the Himalaya to Japan grow
south of Amoy. On the twenty-nine square miles forming the area of
Hongkong there exists, Mr. Bentham says, a greater number of monotypic
genera than in any other flora from an equal area in the world; he
gives a comparative table of the floras of Hongkong, Aden and Ischia
islands, about equal in extent, showing one thousand and three species
growing on the first, ninety-five on the second, and seven hundred
and ninety-two on the third. The proportion of woody to herbaceous
species in Hongkong is nearly one-half, while in Ischia it is one to
eleven; yet Hongkong has actually fewer trees than Ischia. Out of the
one thousand and three species of wild plants there, three hundred
and ninety-eight also occur in the tropical Asiatic flora, while
one hundred and eighty-seven others have been found as well on the
mainland; one hundred and fifty-nine are peculiar to the island.
~CONIFERÆ AND GRASSES.~
Many species of coniferæ are floated down to Canton, taken from the Mei
ling, or brought from Kwangsí; the timber is used for fuel, but more
for rafters and pillars in buildings. The wood of the pride of India
is employed for cabinet work; there are also many kinds of fancy wood,
some of which are imported, and more are indigenous. The _nan muh_,
or southern wood, a magnificent species of laurus common in Sz’chuen,
which resists time and insects, is peculiarly valuable, and reserved
for imperial use. The cœsalpinia, rose wood, aigle wood, and the
camphor, elm, willow, and aspen, are also serviceable in carpentry.
The people collect seaweed to a great extent, using it in the arts and
also for food; among these the _Gigartina tenax_ affords an excellent
material for glues and varnishes. It is boiled, and the transparent
glue obtained is brushed upon very coarse silk or mulberry paper,
filling up their substance, and making a transparent covering for
lanterns; it is also used as a size for stiffening silks and gauze.
This and other kinds of fuci are boiled to a jelly and used for food;
it is known in commerce under the name of agar-agar. The thick fronds
of the laminaria are gathered on the northern coasts and imported
from Japan. Among other cryptogams, the Tartarian lamb (_Aspidium
barometz_), so graphically described by Darwin in his _Botanic Garden_,
has long been celebrated; it is partly an artificial production of the
ingenuity of Chinese gardeners taking advantage of the natural habits
of the plant to form it into a shape resembling a sheep or other object.
Among remarkable grasses the zak or saxaul (_Haloxylon_) and the
_sulhir_ (_Agriophyllum_), which grow in the sandy parts of the desert
of Gobi, should be mentioned. The first is found across the whole
length of this arid region, growing on the bare sand, furnishing to
the traveller a dry and ready fuel in its brittle twigs, while his
camels greedily browse on its leafless but juicy and prickly branches.
The Mongols pitch their tents beneath its shelter, seeking for some
covert from the wintry winds, and encouraged to dig at its roots for
water which has been detained by their succulent nature, a wonderful
provision furnished by God in the bleakest desert. The _sulhir_ is even
more important, and is the “gift of the desert.” It grows on bare sand,
is about two feet high, a prickly saline plant, producing many seeds in
September, of a nutritious, agreeable nature, food for man and beast.
The list of gramineous plants cultivated for food is large; the common
sorts include rice, wheat, barley, oats, maize, sugar-cane, panic,
sorghum, spiked and panicled millet, of each kind several varieties.
The grass (_Phragmites_) raised along the river banks is carefully
cut and dried, to be woven into floor-matting; a coarser sort, called
_atap_, is made of bamboo splints for roofs of huts, awnings, and
sheds. In the milder climes of the southern coasts, cheap houses are
constructed of these materials. The coarse grass and shrubbery on the
hills is cut in the autumn for fuel by the poor; and when the hills are
well sheared of their grassy covering, the stubble is set on fire, in
order to supply ashes for manuring the next crop--an operation which
tends to keep the hills bare of all shrubbery and trees.
~THE BAMBOO--ITS BEAUTY AND USEFULNESS.~
Few persons who have not seen the bamboo growing in its native climes
get a full idea from pictures of its grace and beauty. A clump of
this magnificent grass will gradually develop by new shoots into a
grove, if care be taken to cut down the older stems as they reach full
maturity, and not let them flower and go to seed; for as soon as they
have perfected the seed, they die down to the root, like other grasses.
The stalks usually attain the height of fifty feet, and in the Indian
islands often reach seventy feet and upward, with a diameter of ten
or twelve inches at the bottom. A road lined with them, with their
feathery sprays meeting overhead, presents one of the most beautiful
avenues possible to a warm climate.
In China the industry and skill of the people have multiplied and
perpetuated a number of varieties (one author contents himself with
describing sixty of them), among which are the yellow, the black,
the green, the slender sort for pipes, and a slenderer one for
writing-pencils, the big-leaved, etc. Its uses are so various that it
is not easy to enumerate them all. The shoots come out of the ground
nearly full-sized, four to six inches in diameter, and are cut like
asparagus to eat as a pickle or a comfit, or by boiling or stewing.
Sedentary Buddhist priests raise this lenten fare for themselves or to
sell, and extract the tabasheer from the joints of the old culms, to
sell as a precious medicine for almost anything which ails you. The
roots are carved into fantastic and ingenious images and stands, or
divided into egg-shaped divining-blocks to ascertain the will of the
gods, or trimmed into lantern handles, canes, and umbrella-sticks.
The tapering culms are used for all purposes that poles can be applied
to in carrying, propelling, supporting, and measuring, for which their
light, elastic, tubular structure, guarded by a coating of silicious
skin, and strengthened by a thick septum at each joint, most admirably
fits them. The pillars and props of houses, the framework of awnings,
the ribs of mat-sails, and the shafts of rakes are each furnished by
these culms. So, also, are fences and all kinds of frames, coops, and
cages, the wattles of abatis, and the ribs of umbrellas and fans. The
leaves are sewed into rain-cloaks for farmers and sailors, and thatches
for covering their huts and boats, pinned into linings for tea-boxes,
plaited into immense umbrellas to screen the huckster and his stall
from the sun and rain, or into coverings for theatres and sheds. Even
the whole lot where a two-story house is building is usually covered
in by a framework of bamboo-poles and _attap_--as this leaf covering
is called, from its Malay name--all tied together by rattan, and
protecting the workmen and their work from sun and rain.
The wood, cut into splints of proper sizes and forms, is woven into
baskets of every shape and fancy, sewed into window-curtains and
door-screens, plaited into awnings and coverings for tea-chests or
sugar-cones, and twisted into cables. The shavings and curled threads
aid softer things in stuffing pillows; while other parts supply the bed
for sleeping, the chopsticks for eating, the pipe for smoking, and the
broom for sweeping. The mattress to lie upon, the chair to sit upon,
the table to eat on, the food to eat, and the fuel to cook it with,
are also derivable from bamboo. The master makes his ferule from it,
the carpenter his foot-measure, the farmer his water-pipes, irrigating
wheels, and straw-rakes, the grocer his gill and pint cups, and the
mandarin his dreaded instrument of punishment. This last use is so
common that the name of the plant itself has come in our language to
denote this application, and the poor wretch who is _bambooed_ for his
crimes is thus taught that laws cannot be violated with impunity.
The paper to write on, the book to study from, the pencil to
write with, the cup to hold the pencils, and the covering of the
lattice-window instead of glass are all indebted to this grass in their
manufacture. The shaft of the soldier’s spear, and oftentimes the
spear altogether, the plectrum for playing the lute, the reed in the
native organ, the skewer to fasten the hair, the undershirt to protect
the body, the hat to screen the head, the bucket to draw the water,
and the easy-chair to lounge on, besides cages for birds, fish, bees,
grasshoppers, shrimps, and cockroaches, crab-nets, fishing-poles,
sumpitans or shooting-tubes, flutes, fifes, fire-holders, etc., etc.,
are among the things furnished from this plant, whose beauty when
growing is commensurate to its usefulness when cut down. A score or two
of bamboo-poles for joists and rafters, fifty fathoms of rattan ropes,
with plenty of palm-leaves and bamboo-matting for roof and sides,
supply material for a common dwelling in the south of China. Its cost
is about five dollars. Those houses built over creeks, or along the low
banks of rivers and sea-beaches, are elevated a few feet, and their
floors are neatly made of split bamboos, which allow the water to be
seen through. The decks, masts, yards, and framework of the mat-sails
of the small boats of the islanders in the Archipelago are all more
or less made of this useful plant. Throughout the south of Asia it
enters into the daily life of the people in their domestic economy
more than anything else, or than any other one thing does in any part
of the world. The Japanese supply us with fans neatly formed, ribs and
handle, from a single branch of bamboo, and covered with paper made
from mulberry bark, while their skill is shown also in the exquisite
covering of fine bamboo threads woven around cups and saucers.[207]
~PALMS, YAMS, PLANTAINS, ETC.~
In ancient times the date palm was cultivated in China, but is now
unknown. The cocoanut flourishes in Hainan and the adjacent coasts,
where its fruit, leaves, and timber are much used. A great variety of
utensils are carved from the nut-case, and ropes spun from the coir,
while the cultivators drink the toddy made from the juice. The fan palm
(_Chamærops_) is the common palm of the country, two species being
cultivated for the wiry fibres in the leaf-sheaths, and for their broad
leaves. This fibre is far more useful than that from cocoanut husks,
as it is longer and smoother, and is woven into ropes, mats, cloaks,
and brushes. The tree is spread over the greater part of the provinces,
one of their most ornamental and useful trees. Another sort (_Caryota_)
also furnishes a fibre employed in the same way, but its timber is
more valuable; sedan thills are made of its wood. Still another is the
talipot palm (_Borassus_), from whose leaves a material for writing
books upon was once produced, as is the case now in Siam.[208]
Several species of Aroideæ are cultivated, among which the _Caladium
cuculatum_, _Arum esculentum_, and _Indicum_ are common. The tuberous
farinaceous roots of the _Sagittaria sinensis_ are esteemed; the roots
of these plants, and of the water-chestnut, are manufactured into a
powder resembling arrow-root. The sweet flag (_Calamus_) is used in
medicine for its spicy warmth. The stems of a species of Juncus are
collected and the pith carefully taken out and dried for the wicks of
water-lamps, and the inner layers of the pith hats so generally worn in
southern China.
The extensive group of lillies contains many splendid ornaments of the
conservatory and garden, natives of China; some are articles of food.
The _Agapanthus_, or blue African lily, four species of _Hemerocallis_,
or day lily, and the fragrant tuberose, are all common about Canton;
the latter is widely cultivated for its blossoms to scent fancy teas.
Eight or ten species of Lilium (among which the speckled tiger lily and
the unsullied white are conspicuous) also add their gay beauties to the
gardens; while the modest Commelina, with its delicate blue blossoms,
ornaments the hedges and walks. Many alliaceous plants, the onion,
cives, garlic, etc., belong to this group; and the Chinese relish them
for the table as much as they admire the flowers of their beauteous
and fragrant congeners for bouquets. The singular red-leaved iron-wood
(_Dracæna_) forms a common ornament of gardens.
The yam, or _ta-shu_ (_i.e._, ‘great tuber’), is not much raised,
though its wholesome qualities as an article of food are well
understood. The same group (_Musales_) to which the yam belongs
furnishes the custard-apple, one of the few fruits which have been
introduced from abroad. The Amaryllidæ are represented by many pretty
species of Crinum, Nerine, and Amaryllis. Their unprofitable beauty
is compensated by the plain but useful plantain, said to stand before
the potato and sago palm as producing the greatest amount of wholesome
food, in proportion to its size, of any cultivated plant.[209] There
are many varieties of this fruit, some of them so acid as to require
cooking before eating.
That pleasant stomachic, ginger, is cultivated through all the country,
and exposed for sale as a green vegetable, to spice dishes, and largely
made into a preserve. The Alpinia and Canna, or Indian shot, are
common garden flowers. The large group of Orchideæ has nineteen genera
known to be natives of China, among which the air plants (_Vanda_ and
_Ærides_) are great favorites. They are suspended in baskets under the
trees, and continue to unfold their blossoms in gradual succession
for many weeks, all the care necessary being to sprinkle them daily.
The true species of Ærides are among the most beautiful productions
of the vegetable world, their flowers being arrayed in long racemes
of delicate colors and delicious fragrance. The beautiful Bletia,
Arundina, Spathoglottis, and Cymbidium are common in damp and elevated
places about the islands near Macao and Hongkong.
~FOREST TREES, HEMP, ETC.~
Many species of the pine, cypress, and yew, forming the three
subdivisions of cone-bearing plants, furnish a large proportion of the
timber and fuel. The larch is not rare, and the _Pinus massoniana_
and _Cunninghamia_ furnish most of the common pine timber. The finest
member of this order in China is the white pine (_Pinus bungiana_),
peculiar to Chihlí; its trunk is a clear white, and as it annually
sheds the bark it always looks as if whitewashed. Some specimens near
Peking are said to be a thousand years old. Two members of the genus
_Sequoia_, of a moderate size, occur near Tibet. The juniper and thuja
are often selected by gardeners to try their skill in forcing them to
grow into rude representations of birds and animals, the price of these
curiosities being proportioned to their grotesqueness and difficulty.
The nuts of the maiden-hair tree (_Salisburia adiantifolia_) are eaten,
and the leaves are sometimes put into books as a preservative against
insects.
The willow is a favorite plant and grows to a great size, Staunton
mentioning some which were fifteen feet in girth; they shade the roads
near the capital, and one of them is the true Babylonian willow; the
trees are grown for timber and for burning into charcoal. Their leaves,
shape, and habits afford many metaphors to poets and writers, much more
use being made of the tree in this way, it might almost be said, than
any other. The oak is less patronized by fine writers, but the value
of its wood and bark is well understood; the country affords several
species, one of which, the chestnut oak, is cultivated for the cupules,
to be used in dyeing. The galls are used for dyeing and in medicine,
and the acorns of some kinds are ground in mills, and the flour soaked
in water and made into a farinaceous paste. Some of the missionaries
speak of oaks a hundred feet high, but such giants in this family are
rare. “One of the largest and most interesting of these trees, which,”
writes Abel, “I have called _Quercus densifolia_, resembled a laurel
in its shining green foliage. It bore branches and leaves in a thick
head, crowning a naked and straight stem; its fruit grew along upright
spikes terminating the branches. Another species, growing to the height
of fifty feet, bore them in long, pendulous spikes.”
The chestnut, walnut, and hazelnut together furnish a large supply of
food. The queer-shaped ovens fashioned in imitation of a raging lion,
in which chestnuts are roasted in the streets of Peking, attract the
eye of the visitor. The Jack-fruit (_Artocarpus_) is not unknown in
Canton, but it is not much used. There are many species of the banian,
but none of them produce fruit worth plucking; the Portuguese have
introduced the common fig, but it does not flourish. The bastard banian
is a magnificent shade tree, its branches sometimes overspreading an
area a hundred or more feet across. The walls of cities and dwellings
are soon covered with the _Ficus repens_, and if left unmolested its
roots gradually demolish them. The paper mulberry (_Broussonetia_) is
largely cultivated in the northern provinces, and serves the poor with
their chief material for windows. The leaf of the common mulberry is
the principal object of its culture, but the fruit is eaten and the
wood burned for lampblack to make India-ink.
Hemp (_Cannabis_) is cultivated for its fibres, and the seeds furnish
an oil used for household purposes and medicinal preparations; the
intoxicating substance called _bang_, made in India, is unknown in
China. The family Proteaceæ contains the _Eleococca cordata_, or
_wu-tung_, a favorite tree of the Chinese for its beauty, the hard wood
it furnishes, and the oil extracted from its seeds. The _Stillingia_
belongs to the same family; this symmetrical tree is a native of all
the eastern provinces, where it is raised for its tallow; it resembles
the aspen in the form and color of the leaf and in its general contour.
The castor-oil is cultivated as a hedge plant, and the seeds are used
both in the kitchen and apothecaries’ shop.
The order Hippurinæ furnishes the water caltrops (_Trapa_), the seeds
of which are vended in the streets as a fruit after boiling; one native
name is ‘buffalo-head fruit,’ which the unopened nuts strikingly
resemble. Black pepper is imported, not so much as a spice as for its
infusion, to be administered in fevers. The betel pepper is cultivated
for its leaves, which are chewed with the betel-nut. The pitcher plant
(_Nepenthes_), called pig-basket plant, is not unfrequent near Canton;
the leaves, or ascidia, bear no small resemblance to the open baskets
employed for carrying hogs.
~RHUBARB, LEGUMINOSÆ, ETC.~
Many species of the tribe _Rumicinæ_ are cultivated as esculent
vegetables, among which may be enumerated spinach, green basil, beet,
amaranthus, cockscomb, broom-weed (_Kochia_), buckwheat, etc. Two
species of Polygonum are raised for the blue dye furnished by the
leaves, which is extracted, like indigo, by maceration. Buckwheat is
prepared for food by boiling it like millet; one native name means
‘triangular wheat.’ The flour is also employed in pastry. The cockscomb
is much admired by the Chinese, whose gardens furnish several splendid
varieties. The rhubarb is a member of this useful tribe, and large
quantities are brought from Kansuh and Koko-nor, where its habits
have lately been observed by Prejevalsky. The root is dug by Chinese
and Tanguts during September and October, dried in the shade, and
transported by the Yellow River to the coast towns, where Europeans
pay from six to ten times its rate among the mountain markets.[210]
The Chinese consider the rest of the world dependent on them for tea
and rhubarb, whose inhabitants are therefore forced to resort thither
to procure means to relieve themselves of an otherwise irremediable
costiveness. This argument was made use of by Commissioner Lin in
1840, when recommending certain restrictive regulations to be imposed
upon foreign trade, because he supposed merchants from abroad would be
compelled to purchase them at any price.
The order _Ilicinæ_, or holly, furnishes several genera of Rhamneæ,
whose fruits are often seen on tables. The Zizyphus furnishes the
so-called Chinese dates[211] in immense quantities throughout the
northern provinces. The fleshy peduncles of the Hovenia are eaten;
they are common in the southeastern provinces. The leaves of the
_Rhamnus theezans_ are among the many plants collected by the poor as
a make-shift for the true tea. The fruit called the Chinese olive,
obtained from the Pimela, is totally different from and is a poor
substitute for the rich olive of the Mediterranean countries.[212]
The Leguminosæ hold an important place in Chinese botany, affording
many esculent vegetables and valuable products. Peas and beans are
probably eaten more in China than any other country, and soy is
prepared chiefly from the Soja or Dolichos. One of the modes of making
this condiment is to skin the beans and grind them to flour, which is
mixed with water and powdered gypsum, or turmeric. It is eaten as a
jelly or curd, or in cakes, and a meal is seldom spread without it in
some form. One genus of this tribe affords indigo, and from the buds
and leaves of a species of Colutea a kind of green dye is said to be
obtained. Liquorice is esteemed in medicine; and the red seeds of the
_Abrus precatorius_ are gathered for ornaments. The Poinciana and
Bauhinia are cultivated for their flowers, and the Erythrina and Cassia
are among the most magnificent flowering trees in the south.
~FRUIT TREES AND FLOWERING PLANTS.~
The fruits are, on the whole, inferior in flavor and size to those
of the same names at the west. Several varieties of pears, plums,
peaches, and apricots are known; it is probable that China is the
native country of each of these fruits, and some of the varieties
equal those found anywhere. Erman[213] mentions an apple or haw which
grows in “long bunches and is round, about the size of a cherry, of
a red color, and very sweet taste,” found in abundance near Kiakhta.
There are numerous species of Amygdalus cultivated for their flowers;
and at new year the budding stems of the flowering almond, narcissus,
plum, peach, and bell-flower (_Enkianthus reticulatus_) are forced into
blossom for exhibition, as indicating good luck the coming year. The
apples and quinces are generally destitute of that flavor looked for
in them elsewhere, but the _lu-kuh_, or _loquat_, is a pleasant acid
spring fruit. The pomegranate is chiefly cultivated for its beauty
as a flowering plant; but the guava and Eugenia, or rose-apple, are
sold in the market or made into jellies. The rose is a favorite among
the Chinese and extensively cultivated; twenty species are mentioned,
together with many varieties, as natives of the country; the Banks
rose is developed and trained with great skill. The Spiræa or privet,
myrtle, Quisqualis, Lawsonia or henna, white, purple, and red varieties
of crape-myrtle or Lagerstrœmia, Hydrangea, the passion-flower, and
the house-leek are also among the ornamental plants found in gardens.
Few trees in any country present a more elegant appearance, when in
full flower, than the Lagerstrœmias. The Pride of India and Chinese
tamarix are also beautiful flowering trees. Specimens of the Cactus and
Cereus, containing fifty or more splendid flowers in full bloom, are
not unusual at Macao in August.
The watermelon, cucumber, squash, tomato, brinjal or egg-plant, and
other garden vegetables are abundant; the tallow-gourd (_Benincasa
cerifera_) is remarkable for having its surface covered with a waxy
exudation which smells like rosin. The dried bottle-gourd (_Cucurbita
lagenaria_) is tied to the backs of children on the boats to assist
them in floating if they should unluckily fall overboard. The fruit
and leaves of the papaw, or _muh kwa_, ‘tree melon,’ are eaten after
being cooked; the Chinese are aware of the intenerating property of
the exhalations from the leaves of this tree, and make use of them
sometimes to soften the flesh of ancient hens and cocks, by hanging
the newly killed birds in the tree or by feeding them upon the fruit
beforehand. The carambola (_Averrhoa_) or tree gooseberry is much eaten
by the Chinese, but is not relished by foreigners; the tree itself is
also an ornament to any pleasure grounds.
Ginseng is found wild in the forests of Manchuria, where it is
collected by detachments of soldiers detailed for this purpose; these
regions are regarded as imperial preserves, and the medicine is held
as a governmental monopoly. The importation of the American root does
not interfere to a very serious degree with the imperial sales, as
the Chinese are fully convinced that their own plant is far superior.
Among numerous plants of the malvaceous and pink tribes (_Dianthaceæ_)
remarkable for their beauty or use, the _Lychnis coronata_, five sorts
of pink, the _Althæa Chinensis_, eight species of Hibiscus, and other
malvaceous flowers may be mentioned; the cotton tree (_Salmalia_) is
common at Canton; the fleshy petals are sometimes prepared as food, and
the silky stamens dried to stuff cushions. The _Gossypium herbaceum_
and _Pachyrrhizus_ afford the materials for cotton and grasscloth; both
of them are cultivated in most parts of China. The latter is a twining,
leguminous plant, cultivated from remote antiquity, and still grown for
its fibres, which are woven into linen. The petals of the _Hibiscus
rosa-sinensis_ furnish a black liquid to dye the eyebrows, and at
Batavia they are employed to polish shoes. The fruits of the _Hibiscus
ochra_, or okers, are prepared for the table in a variety of ways.
The _Camellia Japonica_ is allied to the same great tribe as the
Hibiscus, and its elegant flowers are as much admired by the people of
its native country as by florists abroad; thirty or forty varieties are
enumerated, many of them unknown out of China, while Chinese gardeners
are likewise ignorant of a large proportion of those found in our
conservatories. This flower is cultivated solely for its beauty, but
other species of Camellia are raised for their seeds, the oil expressed
from them being serviceable for many household and mechanical purposes.
From the fibres of a species of Waltheria, a plant of the same tribe,
a fine cloth is made; and the _Pentapetes Phœnicia_, or ‘noon flower,’
is a common ornament of gardens.
The widely diffused tribe Ranunculiaceæ has many representatives, some
of them profitable for their timber, others sought after for their
fruit or admired for their beauty, and a few prized for their healing
properties. There are eight species of Magnolia, all of them splendid
flowering plants; the bark of the _Magnolia yulan_ is employed as a
febrifuge. The seed vessels of the _Ilicium anisatum_, or star-aniseed,
are gathered on account of their spicy warmth and fragrance. The
_Artabotrys odoratissimus_ and _Unona odorata_ are cultivated for
their perfume. Another favorite is the _mowtan_, or tree pæony, reared
for its large and variegated flowers; its name of _hwa wang_, or
‘king of flowers,’ indicates the estimation in which it is held. The
skill of native gardeners has made many varieties, and their patience
is rewarded by the high prices which fine specimens command. Good
imitations of full-grown plants in flower are sometimes made of pith
paper. The Clematis, the foxglove, the _Berberis Chinensis_, and the
magnificent lotus, all belong to this tribe; the latter, one of the
most celebrated plants in Asia, is more esteemed by the Chinese for its
edible roots than reverenced for its religious associations. The _Actæa
aspera_ is sometimes collected, as is the scouring rush, for cleaning
pewter vessels, for which its hispid leaves are well fitted.
The groups which include the poppy, mustard, cabbage, cress, and many
ornamental species, form an important portion of native agriculture.
The poppy has become a common crop in all the provinces, driving out
the useful cereals by its greater value and profit. The leaves of
many cruciferous plants are eaten, whether cultivated or wild; and
one kind (_Isates_) yields a fine blue dye in the eastern provinces;
the variety and amount of such food consumed by the Chinese probably
exceeds that of any other people. Another tribe, Rutaceæ, contains
the oranges and shaddocks, and some very fragrant shrubs, as the
_Murraya exotica_ and _paniculata_, and the _Aglaia odorata_; while
the bladder-tree (_Koelreuteria_) is a great attraction when its
whole surface is brilliant with golden flowers. The _whampe_, _i.e._,
yellow skin (_Cookia punctata_), is a common and superior fruit. The
seeds of the Gleditschia, besides their value in cleansing, are worn
as beads, “because,” say the Buddhists, “all demons are afraid of the
wood;” one name means ‘preventive of evil.’ Two native fruits, the
_líchí_ and _lungan_, are allied to the Sapindus in their affinities;
while the _fung shu_, or Liquidambar, and many sorts of maple, with
the _Pittosporum tobira_, an ornamental shrub, may be mentioned among
plants used for food or sought after for timber.
~ORNAMENTAL PLANTS, ETC.~
These brief notices of Chinese plants may be concluded by mentioning
some of the most ornamental not before spoken of; but all the beautiful
sorts are soon introduced into western conservatories by enterprising
florists. In the extensive tribe of Rubiacinæ are several species of
honeysuckle, and a fragrant Viburnum resembling the snowball. The
Serissa is cultivated around beds like the box; the _Ixora coccinea_,
and other species of that genus, are among common garden shrubs. The
seeds of two or three species of Artemisia are collected, dried, and
reduced to a down, to be burned as an actual cautery. The dried twigs
are frequently woven into a rope to slowly consume as a means of
driving away mosquitoes. From the _Carthamus tinctoirus_ a fine red dye
is prepared. The succory, lettuce, dandelion, and other cichoraceous
plants, either wild or cultivated, furnish food; while innumerable
varieties of Chrysanthemums and Asters are reared for their beauty.
The Labiatæ afford many genera, some of them cultivated; and the
Solanaceæ, or nightshades, contain the tomato, potato, tobacco,
stramony, and several species of Capsicum, or red pepper. It has been
disputed whether tobacco is native or foreign, but the philological
argument and historical notices prove that both this plant and maize
were introduced within half a century after the discovery of America,
or about the year 1530. The Chinese dry the leaves and cut them into
shreds for smoking; the snuff is coarser and less pungent than the
Scotch; it is said that powdered cinnabar is sometimes mixed with it.
Among the Convolvulaceæ are many beautiful species of Ipomea,
especially the cypress vine, or _quamoclit_, trained about the houses
even of the poorest. The _Ipomea maritima_ occurs, trailing over the
sandy beaches along the coast from Hainan to Chusan and Lewchew. The
_Convolvulus reptans_ is planted around the edges of pools on the
confines of villages and fields, for the sake of its succulent leaves.
The narcotic family of Apocyneæ contains the oleander and Plumeria,
prized for their fragrance; while the yellow milkweed (_Asclepias
curassavica_) and the _Vinca rosea_, or red periwinkle, are less
conspicuous, but not unattractive, members of the same group. The
jasmine is a deserved favorite, its clusters of flowers being often
wound by women in their hair, and planted in pots in their houses. The
_Olea fragrans_, or _kwei hwa_, is cultivated for scenting tea.
In the eastern provinces the hills are adorned with yellow and red
azaleas of gorgeous hue, especially around Ningpo and in Chusan. “Few,”
says Mr. Fortune, “can form any idea of the gorgeous beauty of these
azalea-clad hills, where, on every side, the eye rests on masses of
flowers of dazzling brightness and surpassing beauty. Nor is it the
azalea alone which claims our admiration; clematises, wild roses,
honeysuckles, and a hundred others, mingle their flowers with them, and
make us confess that China is indeed the ‘central flowery land.’”[214]
~THE PUN TSAO, OR CHINESE HERBAL.~
A few notices of the advance made by the Chinese themselves in the
study of natural history, taken from their great work on materia
medica, the _Pun tsao_, or ‘Herbal,’ will form an appropriate
conclusion to this chapter. This work is usually bound in forty
octavo volumes, divided into fifty-two chapters, and contains many
observations of value mixed up with a deal of incorrect and useless
matter; and as those who read the book have not sufficient knowledge to
discriminate between what is true and what is partly or wholly wrong,
its reputation tends greatly to perpetuate the errors. The compiler
of the _Pun tsao_, Lí Shí-chin, spent thirty years in collecting all
the information on these subjects extant in his time, arranged it in
a methodical manner for popular use, adding his own observations, and
published it about 1590. He consulted some eight hundred preceding
authors, from whom he selected one thousand five hundred and eighteen
prescriptions, and added three hundred and seventy-four new ones,
arranging his materials in fifty-two books in a methodical and (for
his day) scientific manner. But how far behind the writings of Pliny
and Dioscorides! The nucleus of Lí’s production is a small work
which tradition ascribes to Shinnung, the God of Agriculture, and
is doubtless anterior to the Han dynasty. His composition was well
received, and attracted the notice of the Emperor, who ordered several
succeeding editions to be published at the expense of the state. It
was, in fact, so great an advance on all previous books, that it
checked future writers in that branch, and Lí is likely now to be the
first and last purely native critical writer on natural science in his
mother tongue.
The first two volumes contain a collection of prefaces and indices,
together with many notices of the theory of anatomy and medicine, and
three books of pictorial illustrations of the rudest sort. Chapters
I. and II. consist of introductory observations upon the practice of
medicine, and an index of the recipes contained in the work, called the
_Sure Guide to a Myriad of Recipes_; the whole filling the first seven
volumes. Chapters III. and IV. contain lists of medicines for the cure
of all diseases, occupying three volumes and a half, and comprising the
therapeutical portion of the work, except a treatise on the pulse in
the last volume.
In the subsequent chapters the author carefully goes over the entire
range of nature, first giving the correct name and its explanation;
then comes descriptive remarks, solutions of doubts and corrections
of errors being interspersed, closing with notes on the savor, taste,
and application of the recipes in which it is used. Chapters V. and
VI. treat of inorganic substances under water and fire, and minerals
under Chapters VII. to XI., as earth, metals, gems, and stones. Water
is divided into aerial and terrestrial, _i.e._, from the clouds, and
from springs, the ocean, etc. Fire is considered under eleven species,
among which are the flames of coal, bamboo, moxa, etc. The chapter
on earth comprises the secretions from various animals, as well as
soot, ink, etc.; that on metals includes metallic substances and
their common oxides; and gems are spoken of in the next division. The
eleventh chapter, in true Chinese style, groups together what could not
be placed in the preceding sections, including salts, minerals, etc.
In looking at this arrangement one detects the similarity between it
and the classification of characters in the language itself, showing
the influence this has had upon it; thus _ho_, _shui_, _tu_, _kin_,
_yuh_, _shih_, and _lu_, or fire, water, earth, metals, gems, stones,
and salts, are the seven radicals under which the names of inorganic
substances are classified in the imperial dictionary. A like similarity
runs through other parts of the _Herbal_.
~BOTANY OF THE HERBAL.~
Chapters XII. to XXXVII., inclusive, treat of the vegetable kingdom,
under five _pu_, or ‘divisions,’ viz.: herbs, grains, vegetables,
fruits, and trees; which are again subdivided into _lui_, or
‘families,’ though the members of these families have no more
relationship to each other than the heterogeneous family of an
Egyptian slave dealer. The lowest term in the Chinese scientific scale
is _chung_, which sometimes includes a genus, but quite as often
corresponds to a species or even a variety, as Linneus understood those
terms.
The first division of herbs contains nine families, viz.: hill plants,
odoriferous, marshy, noxious, scandent or climbing, aquatic, stony, and
mossy plants, and a ninth of one hundred and sixty-two miscellaneous
plants not used in medicine, making six hundred and seventy-eight
species in all. In this classification the habitat is the most
influential principle of arrangement for the families, while the term
_tsao_, or ‘herb,’ denotes whatever is not eaten or used in the arts,
or which does not attain to the magnitude of a tree.
The second division of grains contains four families, viz.: 1, that of
hemp, sesamum, buckwheat, wheat, rice, etc.; 2, the family of millet,
maize, opium, etc.; 3, leguminous plants, pulse, peas, vetches, etc.;
and 4, fermentable things, as bean curd, boiled rice, wine, yeast,
congee, bread, etc., which, as they are used in medicine, and produced
from vegetables, seem most naturally to come in this place. The first
three families embrace thirty-nine species, and the last twenty-nine
articles.
The third division of kitchen herbs contains five families: 1,
offensive pungent plants, as leeks, mustard, ginger; 2, soft and
mucilaginous plants, as dandelions, lilies, bamboo sprouts; 3,
vegetables producing fruit on the ground, as tomatoes, egg-plants,
melons; 4, aquatic vegetables; and 5, mushrooms and fungi. The number
of species is one hundred and thirty-three, and some part of each of
them is eaten.
The fourth division of fruits contains seven families: 1, the five
fruits, the plum, peach, apricot, chestnut, and date (Rhamnus); 2, hill
fruits, as the orange, pear, citron, persimmon; 3, foreign fruits, as
the cocoanut, líchí, carambola; 4, aromatic fruits, as pepper, cubebs,
tea; 5, trailing fruits, as melons, grape, sugar-cane; 6, aquatic
fruits, as water caltrops, water lily, water chestnuts, etc.; and
7, fruits not used in medicine, as whampe. In all, one hundred and
forty-seven species.
The fifth division of trees has six families: 1, odoriferous trees, as
pine, cassia, aloes, camphor; 2, stately trees, as the willow, tamarix,
elm, soapberry, palm, poplar, julibrissin or silk tree; 3, luxuriant
growing trees, as mulberry, cotton, Cercis, Gardenia, Bombax, Hibiscus;
4, parasites or things attached to trees, as the mistletoe, pachyma,
and amber; 5, flexible plants, as bamboo; this family has only four
species; 6, includes what the other five exclude, though it might have
been thought that the second and third families were sufficiently
comprehensive to contain almost all miscellaneous plants. The number
of species is one hundred and ninety-eight. All botanical subjects are
classified in this manner under five divisions, thirty-one families,
and one thousand one hundred and ninety-five species, excluding all
fermentable things.
The arrangement of the botanical characters in the language does not
correspond so well to this as does that of inorganic substances. The
largest group in the language system is _tsao_, which comprises in
general such herbaceous plants as are not used for food. The second,
_muh_, includes all trees or shrubs; and the bamboo, on account of its
great usefulness, stands by itself, though the characters mostly denote
names of articles made of bamboo. No less than four radicals, viz.,
rice, wheat, millet, and grain, serve as the heads under which the
esculent grasses are arranged; there are consequently many synonymes
and superfluous distinctions. One family includes beans, and another
legumes; one comprises cucurbitaceous plants, another the alliaceous,
and a fourth the hempen; the importance of these plants as articles
of food or manufacture no doubt suggested their adoption. Thus all
vegetable substances are distributed in the language under eleven
different heads.
~ITS ZOÖLOGY AND OBSERVATIONS ON THE HORSE.~
The zoölogical grouping in the _Pun tsao_ is as rude and unscientific
as that of plants. There are five _pu_, or divisions, namely:
insect, scaly, shelly, feathered, and hairy animals. The first
division contains four families: 1 and 2, insects born from eggs,
as bees and silkworms, butterflies and spiders; 3, insects produced
by metamorphosis, as glow-worms, mole-crickets, bugs; and 4, water
insects, as toads, centipedes, etc. The second division has four
families: 1, the dragons, including the manis, “the only fish that has
legs;” 2, snakes; 3, fishes having scales; and 4, scaleless fishes, as
the eel, cuttle-fish, prawn. The third division is classified under
the two heads of tortoises or turtles and mollusks, including the
starfish, echinus, hermit-crab, etc. The fourth division contains birds
arranged under four families: 1, water-fowl, as herons, king-fishers,
etc.; 2, heath-fowl, sparrows, and pheasants; 3, forest birds, as
magpies, crows; and 4, wild birds, as eagles and hawks. Beasts form
the fifth division, which likewise contains four families: 1, the nine
domesticated animals and their products; 2, wild animals, as lions,
deers, otters; 3, rodentia, as the squirrel, hedgehog, rat; and 4,
monkeys and fairies. The number of species in these five divisions is
three hundred and ninety-one, but there are only three hundred and
twenty different objects described, as the roe, fat, hair, exuviæ,
etc., of animals are separately noticed.
The sixteen zoölogical characters in the language are not quite so far
astray from being types of classes as the eleven botanical ones. Nine
of them are mammiferous, viz.: the tiger, dog, and leopard, which stand
for the carnivora; the rat for rodentia; the ox, sheep, and deer for
ruminants; and the horse and hog for pachydermatous. Birds are chiefly
comprised under one radical _niao_, but there is a sub-family of
short-tailed gallinaceous fowls, though much confusion exists in the
division. Fishes form one group, and improperly include crabs, lizards,
whales, and snakes, though most of the latter are placed along with
insects, or else under the dragons. The tortoise, toad, and dragon are
the types of three small collections, and insects are comprised in the
sixteenth and last. These groups, although they contain many anomalies,
as might be expected, are still sufficiently natural to teach those who
write the language something of the world around them. Thus, when one
sees that a new character contains the radical _dog_ in composition, he
will be sure that it is neither fowl, fish, nor bug, nor any animal of
the pachydermatous, cervine, or ruminant tribes, although he may have
never seen the animal nor heard its name. This peculiarity runs through
the whole language, indeed, but in other groups, as for instance those
under the radicals man, woman, and child, or heart, hand, leg, etc.,
the characters include mental and passionate emotions, as well as
actions and names, so that the type is not sufficiently indicative to
convey a definite idea of the words included under it; the names of
natural objects being most easily arranged in this manner.
Between the account of plants and animals the _Herbal_ has one
chapter on garments and domestic utensils, for such things “are used
in medicine and are made out of plants.” The remaining chapters,
XXXIX.-LII., treat of animals, as noticed above. The properties of the
objects spoken of are discussed in a very methodical manner, so that a
student can immediately turn to a plant or mineral and ascertain its
virtue. For instance, the information relative to the history and uses
of the horse is contained in twenty-four sections. The first explains
the character, _ma_, which was originally intended to represent the
outline of the animal. The second describes the varieties of horses,
the best kinds for medical use, and gives brief descriptions of them,
for the guidance of the practitioner. “The pure white are the best for
medicine. Those found in the south and east are small and weak. The
age is known by the teeth. The eye reflects the full image of a man.
If he eats rice his feet will become heavy; if rat’s dung, his belly
will grow long; if his teeth be rubbed with dead silkworms, or black
plums, he will not eat, nor if the skin of a rat or wolf be hung in
his manger. He should not be allowed to eat from a hog’s trough, lest
he contract disease; and if a monkey is kept in the stable he will not
fall sick.”
The third section goes on to speak of the flesh, which is an article of
food; that of a pure white stallion is the most wholesome. One author
recommends “eating almonds, and taking a rush broth, if the person
feel uncomfortable after a meal of horse-flesh. It should be roasted
and eaten with ginger and pork; and to eat the flesh of a black horse,
and not drink wine with it, will surely produce death.” The fourth
describes the crown of the horse, the “fat of which is sweet, and good
to make the hair grow and the face to shine.” The fifth and succeeding
sections to the twenty-fourth treat of the sanative properties and mode
of exhibiting the milk, heart, lungs, liver, kidneys, placenta, teeth,
bones, skin, mane, tail, brains, blood, perspiration, and excrements.
Some of the directions are dietetic, and others are prescriptive. “When
eating horse-flesh do not eat the liver,” is one of the former, given
because of the absence of a gall-bladder in the liver, which imports
its poisonous qualities. “The heart of a white horse, or that of a hog,
cow, or hen, when dried and rasped into spirit and so taken, cures
forgetfulness; if the patient hears one thing he knows ten.” “Above the
knees the horse has _night-eyes_ (warts), which enable him to go in
the night; they are useful in the toothache;” these sections partake
both of the descriptive and prescriptive. Another medical one is: “If
a man be restless and hysterical when he wishes to sleep, and it is
requisite to put him to rest, let the ashes of a skull be mingled with
water and given him, and let him have a skull for a pillow, and it will
cure him.” The same preservative virtues appear to be ascribed to a
horse’s hoof hung in a house as are supposed, by some who should know
better, to belong to a horseshoe when nailed upon the door.[215] The
whole of this extensive work is liberally sprinkled with such whimsies,
but the practice of medicine among the Chinese is vastly better than
their theories; for as Rémusat justly observes, “To see well and reason
falsely are not wholly incompatible, and the naturalists of China,
as well as the chemists and physicians of our ancient schools, have
sometimes tried to reconcile them.”
~NATURAL SCIENCES IN CHINA.~
Another work on botany besides the _Herbal_, issued in 1848, deserves
notice for its research and the excellence of its drawings. It is the
_Chih Wuh Ming-shih Tu-kao_, or _Researches into the Names and Virtues
of Plants_, with plates, in sixty volumes. There are one thousand
seven hundred and fifteen drawings of plants, with descriptions of
each, arranged in eleven books, followed by medical and agricultural
observations on the most important in four books. One of its valuable
points to the foreigner is the terminology furnished by the two authors
for describing the parts and uses of plants. Rémusat read a paper in
1828, ‘On the State of the Natural Sciences among the Orientals,’ in
which he indicates the position attained by Chinese in their researches
into the nature and uses of objects around them. After speaking of the
adaptation the language possesses, from its construction, to impart
some general notions of animated and vegetable nature, he goes on to
remark upon the theorizing propensities of their writers, instead of
contenting themselves with examining and recording facts. “In place
of studying the organization of bodies, they undertake to determine
by reasoning how it should be, an aim which has not seldom led them
far from the end they proposed. One of the strangest errors among
them relates to the transformation of beings into each other, which
has arisen from popular stories or badly conducted observations on
the metamorphoses of insects. Learned absurdities have been added
to puerile prejudices; that which the vulgar have believed the
philosophers have attempted to explain, and nothing can be easier,
according to the oriental systems of cosmogony, in which a simple
matter, infinitely diversified, shows itself in all beings. Changes
affect only the apparent properties of bodies, or rather the bodies
themselves have only appearances; according to these principles, they
are not astonished at seeing the electric fluid or even the stars
converted into stones, as happens when aerolites fall. That animated
beings become inanimate is proven by fossils and petrifactions. Ice
enclosed in the earth for a millennium becomes rock crystal; and it
is only necessary that lead, the _father_ of all metals (as Saturn,
its alchemistic type, was of gods), pass through four periods of two
centuries each to become successively cinnabar, tin, and silver. In
spring the rat changes into a quail, and quails into rats again during
the eighth month.
“The style in which these marvels is related is now and then a little
equivocal; but if they believe part of them proved, they can see
nothing really impossible in the others. One naturalist, less credulous
than his fellows, rather smiles at another author who reported the
metamorphosis of an oriole into a mole, and of rice into a carp; ‘it
is a ridiculous story,’ says he; ‘there is proof only of the change of
rats into quails, which is reported in the almanac, and which I have
often seen myself, for there is an unvaried progression, as well of
transformations as of generations.’ Animals, according to the Chinese,
are viviparous as quadrupeds, or oviparous as birds; they grow by
transformations, as insects, or by the effect of humidity, as snails,
slugs, and centipedes.... The success of such systems is almost always
sure, not in China alone either, because it is easier to put words in
place of things, to stop at nothing, and to have formulas ready for
solving all questions. It is thus that they have formed a scientific
jargon, which one might almost think had been borrowed from our dark
ages, and which has powerfully contributed to retain knowledge in China
in the swaddling-clothes we now find it. Experience teaches that when
the human mind is once drawn into a false way, the lapse of ages and
the help of a man of genius are necessary to draw it out. Ages have not
been wanting in China, but the man whose superior enlightenment might
dissipate these deceitful glimmerings, would find it very difficult to
exercise this happy influence as long as their political institutions
attract all their inquiring minds or vigorous intellects far away from
scientific researches into the literary examinations, or put before
them the honors and employments which the functions and details of
magisterial appointments bring with them.”[216]
~CONSERVATISM OF NATIVE RESEARCH.~
This last observation indicates the reason, to a great degree, for the
fixedness of the Chinese in all departments of learned inquiry; hard
labor employs the energy and time of the ignorant mass, and emulation
in the strife to reach official dignities consumes and perverts the
talents of the learned. Then their language itself disheartens the
most enthusiastic students in this branch of study, on account of
its vagueness and want of established terms. When the vivifying and
strengthening truths of revelation shall be taught to the Chinese,
and its principles acted upon among them, we may expect more vigor in
their minds and more profit in their investigations into the wonders of
nature.
FOOTNOTES:
[167] _The Chinese_, Vol. II., pp. 333-343.
[168] _Journal of the Geolog. Soc._, London, for 1871, p. 379.
[169] _Im fernen Osten_, p. 462.
[170] _China: Ergebnisse eigener Reisen._ Band I., S. 74. Berlin, 1877.
[171] Compare Kingsmill, in the _Quar. Journal of the Geol. Soc. of
London_, 1868, pp. 119 ff., and in the _North China Herald_, Vol. IX.,
85, 86.
[172] Yule’s _Marco Polo_, Vol. I., p. 395.
[173] _Across America and Asia_, pp. 291 ff.
[174] _Five Months on the Yang-tsze_, p. 265. _Annales de la Foi_, Tome
IX., p. 457.
[175] _N. C. Br. R. A. Soc. Journal_, New Series, No. III., pp. 94-106,
and No. IV., pp. 243 ff. Notes by Mr. Hollingworth of a Visit to the
Coal Mines in the Neighborhood of Loh-Ping. _Blue Book, China_, No.
2, 1870, p. 11. _Notes and Queries on China and Japan_, Vol. II., pp.
74-76. _North China Herald_, passim. Richthofen’s _Letters_, and in
_Ocean Highways_, Nov., 1873. _Chinese Repository_, Vol. XIX., pp. 385
ff.
[176] Compare Rémusat, _Histoire de Khotan_, pp. 163 ff., where there
is an extended list of Chinese precious stones drawn from native
sources.
[177] Murray’s _China_, Edinburgh, 1843, Vol. III., p. 276; compare
also an article on this stone by M. Blondel, of Paris, published in the
_Smithsonian Report_ for 1876. _Mémoires concernant les Chinois_, Tome
XIII., p. 389. Rémusat in the _Journal des Savans_, Dec., 1818, pp.
748 ff. _Notes and Queries on C. and J._, Vol. II., pp. 173, 174, and
187; Vol. III., p. 63; Vol. IV., pp. 13 and 33. _Macmillan’s Magazine_,
October, 1871. Yule, _Cathay and the Way Thither_, Vol. II., p. 564.
[178] _Nephrit und Jadeit, nach ihren mineralogischen Eigenschaften
sowie nach ihrer urgeschichtlichen und ethnographischen Bedeutung._
Heinrich Fischer, Stuttgart, 1880. An exhaustive treatise on every
phrase and variety of the mineral.
[179] Obtained from Badakshan. Wood, _Journey to the Oxus_, p. 263.
[180] _Geological Researches in China_, Chap. X.
[181] Humboldt, _Fragmens Asiatiques_, Tome I., p. 196. _Annales de la
Foi_, Janvr., 1829, pp. 416 ff.
[182] Breton, _China, its Costumes, Arts_, etc., Vol. II.
[183] Bridgman’s _Chinese Chrestomathy_, p. 469.
[184] _Chinese Repository_, Vol. VII., p. 90.
[185] _Zoöl. Soc. Proc._, 1870, p. 626.
[186] Borget, _La Chine Ouverte_, p. 147.
[187] _Chinese Repository_, Vol. XII., p. 608.
[188] Ibid., Vol. VI., p. 411.
[189] Yule’s _Marco Polo_, Vol. I., p. 353.
[190] _Wars and Sports of the Mongols and Romans._
[191] _Oriental and Western Siberia_, p. 416.
[192] _Journal of the North China Branch of the Royal Asiatic Society_,
May, 1859, p. 289.
[193] _Journal N. C. Br. R. A. Soc._, Vol. IV., 1867, Art. XI., by T.
Watters.
[194] Yule’s _Marco Polo_, Vol. I., p. 237.
[195] Yule’s _Marco Polo_, Vol. I., p. 246--where there is an admirable
wood-cut of one from Wood.
[196] _From Kulja to Lob-nor_, p. 116.
[197] John Gould, _Century of Birds_. London, 1831-32.
[198] On the birds of China, see in general _Les Oiseaux de la Chine_,
par M. l’Abbé Armand David, avec un Atlas de 124 Planches dessinées et
lith. par M. Arnoul. Paris, 1877. R. Swinhoe, in the _Proceedings of
the Scientific Meetings of the Zoölogical Soc. of London_, and in _The
Ibis, a Magazine of General Ornithology_, passim. _Journ. N. C. Br. R.
A. Soc._, Nos. II., p. 225, and III., p. 287.
[199] _Chinese Repository_, Vol. VII., p. 213. Compare Yule’s note,
_Marco Polo_, Vol. I., p. 232. Huc, _Travels in Tartary_, etc., Vol.
II., p. 246. Bell, _Journey from St. Petersburgh in Russia to Ispahan
in Persia_, Vol. I., p. 216. Also Heeren, _Asiatic Nations_, Vol. I.,
p. 98, where there is a _résumé_ of Ctesias’ account of the unicorn.
[200] _Chinese Repository_, Vol. VII., p. 250. For a careful analysis
of this relic of ancient lore, see the _Nouveau Journal Asiatique_,
Tome XII., pp. 232-243, 1833; also Tome VIII., 3d Series, pp. 337-382,
1839, for M. Bazin’s estimate of its value.
[201] Yule’s _Marco Polo_, Vol. II., p. 46.
[202] Vol. III., p. 445.
[203] Conspectus of collections made by Dr. Cantor, _Chinese
Repository_, Vol. X., p. 434. General features of Chusan, with remarks
on the Flora and Fauna of that Island, by T. E. Cantor, _Annal. Nat.
Hist._, Vol. IX. (1842), pp. 265, 361, and 481. _Journal As. Soc. of
Bengal_, Vol. XXIV., 1855.
[204] Hanbury’s notes on _Chinese Materia Medica_, 1862;
_Pharmaceutical Journal_, Feb., 1862.
[205] Baron Richthofen’s _Letters_, No. VII., to Shanghai Chamber of
Commerce, May, 1872, p. 52.
[206] Darwin, _Naturalist’s Voyage_, p. 35, notices a similar habit
of the sphex in the vicinity of Rio Janeiro. The insect partially
kills the spider or caterpillar by stinging, when they are stored in a
rotting state with her eggs.
[207] Compare Yule’s _Marco Polo_, Vol. I., p. 271; A. R. Wallace, _The
Malay Archipelago_, pp. 87-91, American Ed.
[208] See also in _Notes and Queries on C. and J._, Vol. III., pp. 115,
129, 139, 147, 150, 170.
[209] From calculations of Humboldt it was estimated that the
productiveness of this plant as compared with wheat is as 133 to 1, and
as against potatoes, 44 to 1.
[210] Compare Yule’s _Marco Polo_, Vol. I., p. 197.
[211] The application of this name to the jujube plum by foreigners,
because the kind cured in honey resembled Arabian dates in color, size,
and taste when brought on the table, is a good instance of the manner
in which errors arise and are perpetuated from mere carelessness.
[212] Compare Dr. H. F. Hance, in _Journal of Botany_, Vol. IX., p. 38.
[213] _Travels in Siberia_, Vol. II., p. 151.
[214] _Wanderings in China._
[215] _Chinese Repository_, Vol. VII., p. 393.
[216] _Mélanges Orientales, Posthumes_, p. 215.
CHAPTER VII.
LAWS OF CHINA, AND PLAN OF ITS GOVERNMENT.
The consideration of the theory and practice of the Chinese government
recommends itself to the attention of the intelligent student of
man by several peculiar reasons, among which are its acknowledged
antiquity, the multitudes of people it rules, and the comparative
quiet enjoyed by its subjects. The government of a heathen nation is
so greatly modified by the personal character of the executive, and
the people are so liable to confound institutions with men, either
from imperfect acquaintance with the nature of those institutions, or
from being, through necessity or habit, easily guided and swayed by
designing and powerful men, that the long continuance of the Chinese
polity is a proof both of its adaptation to the habits and condition
of the people, and of its general good management. The antiquity and
excellence of such a government, and its orderly administration, might,
however, be far greater than it is in China, without being invested
with the interest which at present attaches to it in that Empire in
consequence of the immense population, whose lives and property, food
and well-being, depend to so great a degree upon it. What was at first
rather a feeling of curiosity, gradually becomes one of awe, when the
evil results of misgovernment, or the beneficent effects of equitable
rule, are seen to be so momentous.
~THEORY OF THE CHINESE GOVERNMENT.~
The theory of the Chinese government is undoubtedly the patriarchal;
the Emperor is the sire, his officers are the responsible elders
of its provinces, departments, and districts, as every father of a
household is of its inmates. This may, perhaps, be the theory of other
governments, but nowhere has it been systematized so thoroughly, and
acted upon so consistently and for so long a period, as in China. Two
causes, mutually acting upon each other, have, more than anything
else, combined to give efficiency to this theory. The ancient rule
of Yau and Shun[217] was strictly, so far as the details are known,
a patriarchal chieftainship, conferred upon them on account of their
excellent character; and their successors under Yu of the Hia dynasty
were considered as deriving their power from heaven, to whom they
were amenable for its good use. When Chingtang, founder of the Shang
dynasty, B.C. 1766, and Wu Wang, of the Chau, B.C. 1122, took up arms
against the Emperors, the excuse given was that they had not fulfilled
the decrees of heaven, and had thereby forfeited their claim to the
throne.
Confucius, in teaching his principles of political ethics, referred to
the conduct of those ancient kings both for proof of the correctness of
his instructions and for arguments to enforce them. The large number
of those who followed him during his lifetime furnishes some evidence
that his countrymen assented to the propriety of his teachings. This
may account for their reception, illustrated as they were by the high
character the sage bore; but it was not till the lapse of two or
three centuries that the rulers of China perceived the great security
the adoption and diffusion of these doctrines would give their sway.
They therefore turned their attention toward the embodiment of these
precepts into laws, and toward basing the institutions of government
upon them; through all the convulsions and wars which have disturbed
the country and changed the reigning families, these writings have done
more than any one thing else to uphold the institutions of the Chinese
and give them their character and permanence. Education being founded
on them, those who as students had been taught to receive and reverence
them as the oracles of political wisdom, would, when they entered upon
the duties of office, endeavor to carry out, in some degree at least,
their principles. Thus the precept and the practice have mutually
modified, supported, and enforced each other.
But this civilization is Asiatic and not European, pagan and not
Christian. The institutions of China are despotic and defective, and
founded on wrong principles. They may have the element of stability,
but not of improvement. The patriarchal theory does not make men
honorable, truthful, or kind; it does not place woman in her right
position, nor teach all classes their obligations to their Maker; the
wonder is, to those who know the strength of evil passions in the
human breast, that this huge mass of mankind is no worse. We must,
indeed, look into its structure in order to discover the causes of
this stability, inasmuch as here we have neither a standing army to
enforce nor the machinery of a state religion to compel obedience
toward a sovereign. A short inspection will show that the great leading
principles by which the present administration preserves its power over
the people, consist in a system of _strict surveillance_ and _mutual
responsibility_ among all classes. These are aided in their efficiency
by the geographical isolation of the country, a remarkable spirit of
loyal pride in their own history, and a general system of political
education and official examinations.
These two principles are enforced by such a minute gradation of rank
and subordination of offices as to give the government more of a
military character than at first appears, and the whole system is
such as to make it one of the most unmixed oligarchies now existing.
It is like a network extending over the whole face of society, each
individual being isolated in his own mesh but responsibly connected
with all around him. The man who knows that it is almost impossible,
except by entire seclusion, to escape from the company of secret or
acknowledged emissaries of government, will be cautious of offending
the laws of the country, knowing, as he must, that though he should
himself escape, yet his family, his kindred, or his neighbors will
suffer for his offence; that if unable to recompense the sufferers, it
will probably be dangerous for him to return home; or if he does, it
will be most likely to find his property in the possession of neighbors
or officials, who feel conscious of security in plundering one whose
offences have forever placed him under a ban.
~RESPONSIBILITY, FEAR, AND ISOLATION.~
The effect of these two causes upon the mass of the people is to imbue
them with a great fear of the government, both of its officers and
its operations; each man considers that safety is best to be found in
keeping aloof from both. This mutual surveillance and responsibility,
though only partially extended throughout the multitude, necessarily
undermines confidence and infuses universal distrust; while this
object of complete isolation, though at the expense of justice,
truth, honesty, and natural affection, is what the government
strives to accomplish and actually does to a wonderful degree. The
idea of government in the minds of the uneducated people is that of
some ever-present terror, like a sword of Damocles; and so far has
this undefined fear of some untoward result when connected with it
counteracted the real vigor of the Chinese, that to it may be referred
much of their indifference to improvement, contentment with what is
already known and possessed, and submission to petty injustice and
spoliation.
Men are deterred, too, as much by distrust of each other as by fear
of the police, from combining in an intelligent manner to resist
governmental exactions because opposed to principles of equity, or
joining with their rulers to uphold good order; no such men, and
no such instances, as John Hampden going to prison for refusing to
subscribe to a forced loan, or Thomas Williams and his companions
throwing the tea overboard in Boston harbor, ever occurred in China
or any other Asiatic country. They dread illegal societies quite as
much from the cruelties this same distrust induces the leaders to
exercise over recreant or suspected members, as from apprehension of
arrest and punishment by the regular authorities. Thus, with a state
of society at times on the verge of insurrection, this mass of people
is kept in check by the threefold cord of responsibility, fear, and
isolation, each of them strengthening the other, and all depending
upon the character of the people for much of their efficiency. Since
all the officers of government received their intellectual training
when commoners under these influences, it is easy to understand
why the supreme powers are so averse to improvement and to foreign
intercourse--from both of which causes, in truth, the monarch has the
greatest reason to dread lest the charm of his power be weakened and
his sceptre pass away.
There is, however, a further explanation for the general peace which
prevails to be found back of this. It is owing partly to the diffusion
of a political education among the people--teaching them the principles
on which all government is founded, and the reasons for those
principles flowing from the patriarchal theory--and partly to their
plodding, industrious character. A brief exposition of the construction
and divisions of the central and provincial governments and their
mutual relations, and the various duties devolving upon the departments
and officers, will exhibit more of the operation of these principles.
Although the Emperor is regarded as the head of this great
organization, as the fly-wheel which sets other wheels of the machine
in motion, he is still considered as bound to rule according to the
code of the land; and when there is a well-known law, though the source
of law, he is expected to follow it in his decrees. The statutes of
China form an edifice, the foundations of which were laid by Lí Kwei
twenty centuries ago. Successive dynasties have been building thereon
ever since, adding, altering, pulling down, and putting together as
circumstances seemed to require. The people have a high regard for the
code, “and all they seem to desire is its just and impartial execution,
independent of caprice and uninfluenced by corruption. That the laws
of China are, on the contrary, very frequently violated by those who
are their administrators and constitutional guardians, there can,
unfortunately, be no question; but to what extent, comparatively with
the laws of other countries, must at present be very much a matter
of conjecture: at the same time it may be observed, as something in
favor of the Chinese system, that there are substantial grounds for
believing that neither flagrant nor repeated acts of injustice do, in
point of fact, often, in any rank or station, ultimately escape with
impunity.”[218] Sir George Staunton is well qualified to speak on this
point, and his opinion has been corroborated by most of those who have
had similar opportunities of judging; while his translation of the
_Code_ has given all persons interested in the question the means of
ascertaining the principles on which the government ostensibly acts.
This body of laws is called _Ta Tsing Liuh Lí_, _i.e._, ‘Statutes
and Rescripts of the Great Pure Dynasty,’ and contains all the laws
of the Empire. They are arranged under seven leading heads, viz.:
General, Civil, Fiscal, Ritual, Military, and Criminal laws, and
those relating to Public Works; and subdivided into four hundred and
thirty-six sections, called _liuh_, or ‘statutes,’ to which the _lí_,
or modern clauses, to limit, explain or alter them, are added; these
are now much more numerous than the original statutes. A new edition
is published by authority every five years; in the reprint of 1830 the
Emperor ordered that the Supreme Court should make but few alterations,
lest wily litigants might take advantage of the discrepancies between
the new and old law to suit their own purposes. This edition is in
twenty-eight volumes, and is one of the most frequently seen books in
the shops of any city. The clauses are attached to each statute, and
have the same force. No authorized reports of cases and decisions,
either of the provincial or supreme courts, are published for general
use, though their record is kept in the court where they are decided;
the publication of such adjudged cases, as a guide to officers, is
not unknown. An extensive collection of notes, comments, and cases,
illustrating the practice and theory of the laws, was appended to the
edition of 1799.
~THE PENAL CODE OF CHINA.~
A short extract from the original preface of the _Code_, published
in 1647, only three years after the Manchu Emperors took the throne,
will explain the principles on which it was drawn up. After remarking
upon the inconveniences arising from the necessity of aggravating
or mitigating the sentences of the magistrates, who, previous to
the re-establishment of an authentic code of penal laws, were not
in possession of any fixed rules upon which they could build a just
decision, the Emperor Shunchí goes on to describe the manner of
revising the code:
“A numerous body of magistrates was assembled at the capital, at our
command, for the purpose of revising the penal code formerly in force
under the late dynasty of Ming, and of digesting the same into a
new code, by the exclusion of such parts as were exceptionable and
the introduction of others which were likely to contribute to the
attainment of justice and the general perfection of the work. The
result of their labors having been submitted to our examination, we
maturely weighed and considered the various matters it contained,
and then instructed a select number of our great officers of state
carefully to revise the whole, for the purpose of making such
alterations and emendations as might still be found requisite.
Wherefore, it being now published, let it be your great care, officers
and magistrates of the interior and exterior departments of our
Empire, diligently to observe the same, and to forbear in future
to give any decision, or to pass any sentence, according to your
private sentiments, or upon your unsupported authority. Thus shall the
magistrates and people look up with awe and submission to the justice
of these institutions, as they find themselves respectively concerned
in them; the transgressor will not fail to suffer a strict expiation of
his crimes, and will be the instrument of deterring others from similar
misconduct; and finally both officers and people will be equally
secured for endless generations in the enjoyment of the happy effects
of the great and noble virtues of our illustrious progenitors.”
~GENERAL, CIVIL, AND FISCAL LAWS.~
Under the head of General Laws are forty-seven sections, comprising
principles and definitions applicable to the whole, and containing some
singular notions on equity and criminality. The description of the
five ordinary punishments, definition of the ten treasonable offences,
regulations for the eight privileged classes, and general directions
regarding the conduct of officers of government, are the matters
treated of under this head. The title of Section XLIV. is “On the
decision of cases not provided for by law;” and the rule is that “such
cases may then be determined by an accurate comparison with others
which are already provided for, and which approach most nearly to those
under investigation, in order to ascertain afterward to what extent
an aggravation or mitigation of the punishment would be equitable.
A provisional sentence conformable thereto shall be laid before the
superior magistrates, and, after receiving their approbation, be
submitted to the Emperor’s final decision. Any erroneous judgment
which may be pronounced, in consequence of adopting a more summary
mode of proceeding in cases of a doubtful nature, shall be punished as
wilful deviation from justice.” This, of course, gives great latitude
to the magistrate, and as he is thus allowed to decide and act before
the new law can be confirmed or annulled, the chief restraints to his
injustice in such cases (which, however, are not numerous) lie in the
fear of an appeal and its consequences, or of summary reprisals from
the suffering parties.
The six remaining divisions pertain to the six administrative boards
of the government. The second contains Civil Laws, under twenty-eight
sections, divided into two books, one of them referring to the system
of government, and the other to the conduct of magistrates, etc. The
hereditary succession of rank and titles is regulated, and punishments
laid down for those who illegally assume these honors. Most of the
nobility of China are Manchus, and none of the hereditary dignities
existing previous to the conquest were recognized, except those
attached to the family of Confucius. Improperly recommending unfit
persons as deserving high honors, appointing and removing officers
without the Emperor’s sanction, and leaving stations without due
permission, are the principal subjects regulated in the first book.
The second book contains rules regarding the interference of superior
magistrates with the proceedings of the lower courts, and prohibitions
against cabals and treasonable combinations among officers, which
are of course capital crimes; all persons in the employ of the state
are required to make themselves acquainted with the laws, and even
private individuals “who are found capable of explaining the nature
and comprehending the objects of the laws, shall receive pardon in all
offences resulting purely from accident, or imputable to them only from
the guilt of others, provided it be the first offence.”
The third division, of Fiscal Laws, under eighty-two sections, contains
rules for enrolling the people, and of succession and inheritance;
also laws for regulating marriages between various classes of society,
for guarding granaries and treasuries, for preventing and punishing
smuggling, for restraining usury, and for overseeing shops. Section
LXXVI. orders that persons and families truly represent their
profession in life, and restrains them from indulging in a change of
occupation; “generation after generation they must not vary or alter
it.” This rule is, however, constantly violated. Section XC. exempts
the buildings of literary and religious institutions from taxation. The
general aim of the laws relating to holding real estate is to secure
the cultivation of all the land taken up, and the regular payment of
the tax. The proprietor, in some cases, can be deprived of his lands
because he does not till them, and though in fact owner in fee simple,
he is restricted in the disposition of them by will in many ways, and
forfeits them if the taxes are not paid.
~RITUAL, MILITARY, AND CRIMINAL LAWS.~
The fourth division, of Ritual Laws, under twenty-six sections,
contains the regulations for state sacrifices and ceremonies, those
appertaining to the worship of ancestors, and whatever belongs to
heterodox and magical sects or teachers. The heavy penalties threatened
in some of these sections against all illegal combinations under the
guise of a new form of worship presents an interesting likeness to
the restrictions issued by the English, French, and German princes
during and after the Reformation. The Chinese authorities had the same
dread lest the people should meet and consult how to resist them. Even
processions in honor of the gods may be forbidden for good reason, and
are not allowed at all at Peking; while, still more, the rites observed
by the Emperor cannot be imitated by any unauthorized person; women
are not allowed to congregate in the temples, nor magicians to perform
any strange incantations. Few of these laws are really necessary, and
those against illegal sects are in fact levelled against political
associations, which usually take on a religious guise.
The fifth division, of Military Laws, in seventy-one sections,
provides for the protection of the palace and government of the army,
for guarding frontier passes, management of the imperial cattle, and
forwarding despatches by couriers. Some of these ordinances lay down
rules for the protection of the Emperor’s person, and the disposition
of his body-guard and troops in the palace, the capital, and over the
Empire. The sections relating to the government of the army include
the rules for the police of cities; and those designed to secure the
protection of the frontier comprise all the enactments against foreign
intercourse, some of which have already been referred to in passing.
The supply of horses and cattle for the army is a matter of some
importance, and is minutely regulated; one law orders all persons who
possess vicious and dangerous animals to restrain them, and if through
neglect any person is killed or wounded, the owner of the animal shall
be obliged to redeem himself from the punishment of manslaughter by
paying a fine. This provision to compel the owners of unruly beasts
to exercise proper restraint over them is like that laid down by
Moses in Exodus XXI., 29, 30. There is as yet no general post-office
establishment, but governmental couriers often take private letters;
local mails are safely carried by express companies. The required rate
of travel for the official post is one hundred miles a day, but it does
not ordinarily go more than half that distance. Officers of government
are allowed ninety days to make the journey from Peking to Canton, a
distance of twelve hundred miles, but couriers frequently travel it in
twelve days.
The sixth division, on Criminal Laws, is arranged in eleven books,
containing in all one hundred and seventy sections, and is the most
important of the whole. The clauses under some of the sections
are numerous, and show that it is not for want of proper laws or
insufficient threatenings that crimes go unpunished. The books of this
division relate to robbery, in which is included high treason and
renunciation of allegiance; to homicide and murder; quarrelling and
fighting; abusive language; indictments, disobedience to parents, and
false accusations; bribery and corruption; forging and frauds; incest
and adultery; arrests and escapes of criminals, their imprisonment and
execution; and, lastly, miscellaneous offences.
Under Section CCCXXIX. it is ordered that any one who is guilty of
addressing abusive language to his or her father or mother, or father’s
parents, or a wife who rails at her husband’s parents or grandparents,
shall be strangled; provided always that the persons so abused
themselves complain to the magistrate, and had personally heard the
language addressed to them. This law is the same in regard to children
as that contained in Leviticus XX., 9, and the power here given the
parent does not seem to be productive of evil. Section CCCLXXXI. has
reference to “privately hushing up public crimes,” but its penalties
are for the most part a dead letter, and a full account of the various
modes adopted in the courts of withdrawing cases from the cognizance
of superiors, would form a singular chapter in Chinese jurisprudence.
Consequently those who refuse every offer to suppress cases are
highly lauded by the people. Another section (CCCLXXXVI.) ordains
that whoever is guilty of improper conduct, contrary to the spirit of
the laws, but not a breach of any specific article, shall be punished
at least with forty blows, and with eighty when of a serious nature.
Some of the provisions of this part of the code are praiseworthy, but
no part of Chinese legislation is so cruel and irregular as criminal
jurisprudence. The permission accorded to the judge to torture the
criminal opens the door for much inhumanity.
The seventh division contains thirteen sections relating to Public
Works and Ways, such as the weaving of interdicted patterns of silk,
repairing dikes, and constructing edifices for government. All public
residences, granaries, treasuries and manufactories, embankments
and dikes of rivers and canals, forts, walls, and mausolea, must be
frequently examined, and kept in repair. Poverty or peculation render
many of these laws void, and many subterfuges are often practised by
the superintending officer to pocket as much of the funds as he can.
One officer, when ordered to repair a wall, made the workmen go over it
and chip off the faces of the stones still remaining, then plastering
up the holes.
Besides these laws and their numerous clauses, every high provincial
officer has the right to issue edicts upon such public matters as
require regulation, some of them even affecting life and death, either
reviving some old law or giving it an application to the case before
him, with such modifications as seem to be necessary. He must report
these acts to the proper board at Peking. No such order, which for the
time has the force of law, is formally repealed, but gradually falls
into oblivion, until circumstances again require its reiteration.
This mode of publishing statutes gives rise to a sort of common and
unwritten law in villages, to which a council of elders sometimes
compels individuals to submit; long usage is also another ground for
enforcing them.
~CRITICISM OF THE CODE.~
Still, with all the tortures and punishments allowed by the law, and
all the cruelties superadded upon the criminals by irritated officers
or rapacious underlings and jailors, a broad survey of Chinese
legislation, judged by its results and the general appearance of
society, gives the impression of an administration far superior to
other Asiatic countries. A favorable comparison has been made in the
_Edinburgh Review_:[219] “By far the most remarkable thing in this
code is its great reasonableness, clearness, and consistency, the
business-like brevity and directness of the various provisions, and the
plainness and moderation in which they are expressed. There is nothing
here of the monstrous _verbiage_ of most other Asiatic productions,
none of the superstitious deliration, the miserable incoherence, the
tremendous _non-sequiturs_ and eternal repetitions of those oracular
performances--nothing even of the turgid adulation, accumulated
epithets, and fatiguing self-praise of other Eastern despotisms--but
a calm, concise, and distinct series of enactments, savoring
throughout of practical judgment and European good sense, and if not
always conformable to our improved notions of expediency, in general
approaching to them more nearly than the codes of most other nations.
When we pass, indeed, from the ravings of the Zendavesta or the Puranas
to the tone of sense and business in this Chinese collection, we seem
to be passing from darkness to light, from the drivellings of dotage to
the exercise of an improved understanding; and redundant and absurdly
minute as these laws are in many particulars, we scarcely know any
European code that is at once so copious and so consistent, or that
is so nearly free from intricacy, bigotry, and fiction. In everything
relating to political freedom or individual independence it is indeed
wofully defective; but for the repression of disorder and the gentle
coercion of a vast population, it appears to be equally mild and
efficacious. The state of society for which it was formed appears
incidentally to be a low and wretched one; but how could its framers
have devised a wiser means of maintaining it in peace and tranquillity?”
This encomium is to a certain extent just, but the practice of
legislation in China has probably not been materially improved by the
mere possession of a reasonable code of laws, though some melioration
in jurisprudence has been effected.[220] The infliction of barbarous
punishments, such as blinding, cutting off noses, ears, or other parts
of the body, still not uncommon in Persia and Turkey, is not allowed
or practised in China; and the government, in minor crimes, contents
itself with but little more than opprobrious exposure in the pillory,
or castigation, which carry with them no degradation.
The defects in this remarkable body of laws arise from several sources.
The degree of liberty that can safely be awarded to the subject is
not defined in it, and his rights are unknown in law. The government
is despotic, but having no efficient military power in their hands,
the lawgivers resort to a minuteness of legislation upon the practice
of social and relative virtues and duties which interferes with
their observance; though it must be remembered that no pulpit or
Sabbath-school exists there to expound and enforce them from a higher
code, and the laws must be the chief guide in most cases. The code also
exhibits a minute attention to trifles, and an effort to legislate for
every possible contingency, which must perplex the judge when dealing
with the infinite shades of difference occurring in human actions.
There are now many vague and obsolete statutes, ready to serve as a
handle to prosecute offenders for the gratification of private pique;
and although usage and precedent both combine to prove their disuse,
malice and bribery can easily effect their reviviscence and application
to the case.
~INFLUENCE OF THE LAWS UPON SOCIETY.~
Sheer cruelty, except in cases of treason against the Emperor, cannot
be charged against this code as a whole, though many of the laws seem
designed to operate chiefly _in terrorem_, and the penalty is placed
higher than the punishment really intended to be inflicted, to the
end that the Emperor may have scope for mercy, or, as he says, “for
leniency beyond the bounds of the law.” The principle on which this is
done is evident, and the commonness of the practice proves that such an
exercise of mercy has its effect. The laws of China are not altogether
unmeaning words, though the degree of efficiency in their execution
is subject to endless variations; some officers are clement, others
severe; the people in certain provinces are industrious and peaceable,
in others turbulent and averse to quiet occupations, so that one is
likely to form a juster idea of their administration by looking at
the results as seen in the general aspect of society, and judging of
the tree by its fruits, than by drawing inferences applicable to the
whole machine of state from particular instances of oppression and
insubordination, as has been so often the case with travellers and
writers.
The general examination of the Chinese government here proposed may
be conveniently considered under the heads of the Emperor and his
court, classes of society, the different branches of the supreme
administration, the provincial authorities, and the execution of the
laws.
~ATTRIBUTES OF THE CHINESE EMPEROR.~
The Emperor is at the head of the whole; and if the possession of
great power, and being the object of almost unbounded reverence,
can impart happiness, he may safely be considered as the happiest
mortal living; though to his power there are many checks, and the
reverence paid him is proportioned somewhat to the fidelity with
which he administers the decrees of heaven. “The Emperor is the sole
head of the Chinese constitution and government; he is regarded as
the vice-gerent of heaven, especially chosen to govern all nations;
and is supreme in everything, holding at once the highest legislative
and executive powers, without limit or control.” Both he and the Pope
claim to be the vice-gerent of heaven and interpreter of its decrees
to the whole world, and these two rulers have emulated each other
in their assumption of arrogant titles. The most common appellation
employed to denote the Emperor in state papers and among the people is
_hwangtí_, or ‘august sovereign;’ it is defined as “the appellation
of one possessing complete virtues, and able to act on heavenly
principles.”[221] This title is further defined as meaning heaven:
“Heaven speaks not, yet the four seasons follow in regular succession,
and all things spring forth. So the three august ones (Fuhhí, Shinnung,
and Hwangtí) descended in state, and without even uttering a word the
people bowed to their sway; their virtue was inscrutable and boundless
like august heaven, and therefore were they called _august_ ones.”
Among the numerous titles given the monarch may be mentioned _hwang
shang_, the ‘august lofty one;’ _tien hwang_, ‘celestial august one;’
_shing hwang_, the ‘wise and august,’ _i.e._, infinite in knowledge and
complete in virtue; _tien tí_, ‘celestial sovereign;’ and _shing tí_,
‘sacred sovereign,’ because he is able to act on heavenly principles.
He is also called _tien tsz’_, ‘son of heaven,’ because heaven is his
father and earth is his mother, and _shing tien tsz’_, ‘wise son of
heaven,’ as being born of heaven and having infinite knowledge; terms
which are given him as the ruler of the world by the gift of heaven. He
is even addressed, and sometimes refers to himself, under designations
which pertain exclusively to heaven. _Wan sui yé_, ‘sire of ten
thousand years,’ is a term used when speaking of him or approaching
him, like the words, _O king, live forever!_ addressed to the ancient
kings of Persia. _Pí hia_, ‘beneath the footstool,’ is a sycophantic
compellation used by his courtiers, as if they were only worthy of
being at the edge of his footstool.
The Emperor usually designates himself by the terms _chin_, ‘ourself;’
_kwa jin_, the ‘solitary man,’ or the one man; and _kwa kiun_, the
‘solitary prince.’ He has been loaded with many ridiculous titles by
foreign writers, as Brother of the Sun and Moon, Grandson of the Stars,
King of Kings, etc., but no such epithets are known among his subjects.
His palace has various appellations, such as hall of audience, golden
palace, the ninth entrance, vermilion avenue, vermilion hall, rosy
hall, forbidden pavilion, the crimson and forbidden palace, gemmeous
steps, golden steps, meridian portal, gemmeous avenue, celestial
steps, celestial court, great interior, the maple pavilion, royal
house, etc. To see him is to see the dragon’s face; the throne is
called the “dragon’s throne,” and also the “divine utensil,” _i.e._,
the thing given him by heaven to sit in when executing his divine
mission; his person is styled the dragon’s body, and a five-clawed
dragon is emblazoned, like a coat of arms, on his robes, which no one
can use or imitate. Thus the Old Dragon, it might be almost said,
has coiled himself around the Emperor of China, one of the greatest
upholders of his power in this world, and contrived to get himself
worshipped, through him, by one-third of mankind.
The Emperor is the fountain of power, rank, honor, and privilege to
all within his dominions, which are termed _tien hia_, meaning all
under heaven, and were till recently, even by his highest officers,
ignorantly supposed to comprise all mankind. As there can be but one
sun in the heavens, so there can be but one _hwangtí_ on earth, the
source and dispenser of benefits to the whole world.[222] The same
absolute executive power held by him is placed in the hands of his
deputies and governor-generals, to be by them exercised within the
limits of their jurisdiction. He is the head of religion and the only
one qualified to adore heaven; he is the source of law and dispenser
of mercy; no right can be held in opposition to his pleasure, no claim
maintained against him, no privilege protect from his wrath. All the
forces and revenues of the Empire are his, and he has a right to claim
the services of all males between sixteen and sixty. In short, the
whole Empire is his property, and the only checks upon his despotism
are public opinion, the want of an efficient standing army, poverty and
the venality of the agents of his power.
When the Manchus found themselves in possession of Peking, they
regarded this position as fully entitling them to assume all imperial
rights. Their sovereign thus announced his elevation in November,
1644: “I, the Son of Heaven, of the Ta-tsing dynasty, humbly as a
subject dare to announce to Imperial Heaven and Sovereign Earth.
Though the world is vast, Shangtí looks on all without partiality.
My Imperial Grandfather received the gracious decree of Heaven and
founded a kingdom in the East, which became firmly established. My
Imperial Father succeeding to the kingdom, extended it; and I, Heaven’s
servant, in my poor person became the inheritor of the dominion they
transmitted. When the Ming dynasty was coming to its end, traitors and
men of violence appeared in crowds, involving the people in misery.
China was without a ruler. It fell to me reverentially to accept the
responsibility of continuing the meritorious work of my ancestors. I
saved the people, destroyed their oppressors; and now, in accordance
with the desires of all, I fix the urns of Empire at Yen-king.... I,
receiving Heaven’s favor, and in accordance with their wishes, announce
to Heaven that I have ascended the throne of the Empire, that the name
I have chosen for it is the Great Pure, and that the style of my reign
is _Shun-chí_ (‘Obedient Rule’). I beg reverentially Heaven and Earth
to protect and assist the Empire, so that calamity and disturbance may
soon come to an end, and the land enjoy universal peace. For this I
humbly pray, and for the acceptance of this sacrifice.”
~PERSONAL NAME AND TITLES OF THE EMPEROR.~
The present Emperor is the ninth of the Tsing dynasty who has
reigned in China. _Tsing_ means Pure, and was taken by the Manchus
as a distinctive term for their new dynasty, alluding to the purity
of justice they intended to maintain in their sway. Some of the
founders of the ancient dynasties derived their dynastic name from
their patrimonial estates, as _Sung_, _Han_, _Chau_, etc., but the
later ones have adopted names like _Yuen_, or ‘Original,’ _Ming_, or
‘Illustrious,’ etc., which indicate their vanity.
The present monarch is still a minor, and the affairs of government
are nominally under the direction of the Empress-dowager, who held
the same office during the minority of his predecessor, Tungchí. The
surname of the reigning family is _Gioro_, or ‘Golden,’ derived from
their ancestral chief, Aisin Gioro, whom they feign to have been the
son of a divine virgin. They are the lineal descendants of the Kin, a
rude race which drove out the Chinese rulers and occupied the northern
provinces about 1130, making Peking their capital for many years. On
the approach of the Mongols they were chased away to the east, and
retained only a nominal independence; changing their name from Nüchih
to Manjurs, they gradually increased in numbers, but did not assume any
real importance until they became masters of China. The acknowledged
founder of the reigning house was the chief Hien-tsu (1583-1615),
whose actual descendants are collectively designated _Tsung-shih_, or
‘Imperial Clan.’ The second Emperor further limited the Clan by giving
to each of his twenty-four sons a personal name of two characters, the
first of which, Yun, was the same for all of them. For the succeeding
generations he ordered a series of characters to be used by all the
members of each, so that through all their ramifications the first name
would show their position. Kanghí’s own name was _Hiuen_, then followed
_Yun_, _Hung_, _Yung_, _Mien_, _Yih_, and _Tsai_, the last and present
sovereigns being both named _Tsai_. All who bear this name are direct
descendants of Kanghí. Since the application of these seven generation
names, eight more have been selected for future use by imperial scions.
In order still further to distinguish those most nearly allied in
blood, as sons, nephews, etc., it is required that the second names of
each family always consist of characters under the same radical. Thus
Kiaking and his brothers wrote their first names _Yung_, and under the
radical _gun_ for the second; Taukwang and his brothers and cousins
_Mien_, and under the radical _heart_. For some unexplained reason the
radicals _silk_ and _gold_, chosen for the second names of the next
two generations, were altered to _words_ and _water_. This peculiarity
is easily represented in the Chinese characters; a comparison can be
made in English with the supposed names of a family of sons, as Louis
Edward, Louis Edwin, Louis Edwy, Louis Edgar, etc., the word _Louis_
answering to _Mien_, and the syllable _Ed_ to the radical _heart_.
The present Emperor’s personal name is Tsai-tien, and, like those of
his predecessors, is deemed to be too sacred to be spoken, or the
characters to be written in the common form. The same reverence is
observed for the names after death, so that twelve characters have
been altered since the Manchu monarchs began to reign; Hiuen-wa,
which was the personal name of Kanghí, has become permanently altered
in its formation. The present sovereign was born August 15, 1871,
and on January 12, 1875, succeeded his cousin Tsaishun, who died
without issue--the first instance in the Gioro family for nearly three
centuries. At this time there was some delay as to which of his cousins
should succeed to the dragon throne, when the united council of the
princes was led by the mother of the deceased Emperor to adopt her
nephew, the son of Prince Chun. The little fellow was sent for at night
to be immediately saluted as _hwangtí_, and ere long brought in before
them, cross and sleepy as he was, to begin his reign under the style of
Kwangsü, or ‘Illustrious Succession.’
~THE KWOH HAO AND MIAO HAO.~
This title is called a _kwoh hao_, or national designation, and answers
more nearly to the name that a new Pope takes with the tiara than to
anything else in western lands. It is the expression of the idea which
the monarch wishes to associate with his reign, and is the name by
which he is known to his subjects during his life. It has been called
a _period_ by some writers, but while it is not strictly his name,
yet period is not so correct as _reign_. Usage has made it equivalent
in foreign books to the personal name, and it is plainer to say the
Emperor Taukwang than the period Taukwang or the reign Taukwang, or
still more than to write, as Wade has done, “the Emperor Mien-Ning, the
style of whose reign was Tau Kwang;” or than Legge has done, to say,
“the Emperor Pattern, of the period Yungching.” In such cases it is not
worth the trouble to attempt strict accuracy in a matter so entirely
unlike western usages.
The use of the _kwoh hao_ began with Wăn-tí, of the Han dynasty,[223]
B.C. 179, and has continued ever since. Some of the early monarchs
changed their _kwoh hao_ many times during their reigns; Kao-tsung
(A.D. 650-684), for example, had thirteen in a régime of thirty-four
years, which induced historians to employ the _miao hao_, or ancestral
name, as more suitable and less liable to confusion. The reason for
thus investing the sovereign with a title different from his real name
is not fully apparent, but arose probably out of the vanity of the
monarch, who wished thus to glorify himself by a high-sounding title,
and make his own name somewhat ineffable at the same time. The custom
was adopted in Japan about A.D. 645, and is practised in Corea and
Annam.
~CORONATION PROCLAMATION OF TAUKWANG.~
When a monarch ascends the throne, or as it is expressed in Chinese,
“when he receives from Heaven and revolving nature the government of
the world,” he issues an inaugural proclamation. There is not much
change in the wording of these papers, and an extract from the one
issued in 1821 will exhibit the practice on such occasions:
“Our Ta Tsing dynasty has received the most substantial indication
of Heaven’s kind care. Our ancestors, Taitsu and Taitsung, began to
lay the vast foundation [of our Empire]; and Shítsu became the sole
monarch of China. Our sacred ancestor Kanghí, the Emperor Yungching,
the glory of his age, and Kienlung, the eminent in honor, all
abounded in virtue, were divine in martial prowess, consolidated the
glory of the Empire, and moulded the whole to peaceful harmony.
“His late Majesty, who has now gone the great journey, governed
all under Heaven’s canopy twenty-five years, exercising the utmost
caution and industry. Nor evening nor morning was he ever idle. He
assiduously aimed at the best possible rule, and hence his government
was excellent and illustrious; the court and the country felt the
deepest reverence and the stillness of profound awe. A benevolent
heart and a benevolent administration were universally diffused: in
China Proper, as well as beyond it, order and tranquillity prevailed,
and the tens of thousands of common people were all happy. But in the
midst of a hope that this glorious reign would be long protracted,
and the help of Heaven would be received many days, unexpectedly, on
descending to bless, by his Majesty’s presence, Lwanyang, the dragon
charioteer (the holy Emperor) became a guest on high.
“My sacred and indulgent Father had, in the year that he began to
rule alone, silently settled that the divine utensil should devolve
on my contemptible person. I, knowing the feebleness of my virtue, at
first felt much afraid I should not be competent to the office; but
on reflecting that the sages, my ancestors, have left to posterity
their plans; that his late Majesty has laid the duty on me--and
Heaven’s throne should not be long vacant--I have done violence to
my feelings and forced myself to intermit awhile my heartfelt grief,
that I may with reverence obey the unalterable decree; and on the
27th of the 8th moon (October 3d) I purpose devoutly to announce
the event to Heaven, to earth, to my ancestors, and to the gods of
the land and of the grain, and shall then sit down on the imperial
throne. Let the next year be the first of Taukwang.
“I look upward and hope to be able to continue former excellences.
I lay my hand on my heart with feelings of respect and cautious
awe.--When a new monarch addresses himself to the Empire, he ought
to confer benefits on his kindred, and extensively bestow gracious
favors: what is proper to be done on this occasion is stated below.”
(Here follow twenty-two paragraphs, detailing the gifts to be
conferred and promotions made of noblemen and officers; ordering the
restoration of suspended dignitaries to their full pay and honors,
and sacrifices to Confucius and the Emperors of former dynasties;
pardons to be extended to criminals, and banished convicts recalled;
governmental debts and arrearages to be forgiven, and donations to be
bestowed upon the aged.)
“Lo! now, on succeeding to the throne, I shall exercise myself to
give repose to the millions of my people. Assist me to sustain the
burden laid on my shoulders! With veneration I receive charge of
Heaven’s great concerns.--Ye kings and statesmen, great and small,
civil and military, let every one be faithful and devoted, and aid
in supporting the vast affairs, that our family dominion may be
preserved hundreds and tens of thousands of years in never-ending
tranquillity and glory! Promulgate this to all under Heaven--cause
every one to hear it!”
The programme of ceremonies to be observed when the Emperor “ascends
the summit,” and seats himself on the dragon’s throne, was published
for the Emperor Taukwang by the Board of Rites a few days after. It
details a long series of prostrations and bowings, leading out and
marshalling the various officers of the court and members of the
imperial family. After they are all arranged in proper precedence
before the throne, “at the appointed hour the president of the Board
of Rites shall go and entreat his Majesty to put on his mourning, and
come forth by the gate of the eastern palace, and enter at the left
door of the middle palace, where his Majesty, before the altar of his
deceased imperial father, will respectfully announce that he receives
the decree--kneel thrice and bow nine times.”
He then retires, and soon after a large deputation of palace officers
“go and solicit his Majesty to put on his imperial robes and proceed
to the palace of his mother, the Empress-dowager, to pay his respects.
The Empress-dowager will put on her court robes and ascend her throne,
before which his Majesty shall kneel thrice and bow nine times.”
After this filial ceremony is over the golden chariot is made ready,
the officer of the Astronomical Board--whose business is to _observe
times_--is stationed at the palace gate, and when he announces the
arrival of the chosen and felicitous moment, his Majesty comes forth
and mounts the golden chariot, and the procession advances to the
Palace of Protection and Peace. Here the great officers of the Empire
are marshalled according to their rank, and when the Emperor sits down
in the palace they all kneel and bow nine times.
“This ceremony over, the President of the Board of Rites, stepping
forward, shall kneel down and beseech his Majesty, saying, ‘Ascend the
imperial throne.’ The Emperor shall then rise from his seat, and the
procession moving on in the same order to the Palace of Peace, his
Majesty shall ascend the seat of gems and sit down on the imperial
throne, with his face to the south.” All present come forward and again
make the nine prostrations, after which the proclamation of coronation,
as it would be called in Europe, is formally sealed, and then announced
to the Empire with similar ceremonies. There are many other lesser
rites observed on these occasions, some of them appropriate to such
an occasion, and others, according to our notions, bordering on
the ludicrous; the whole presenting a strange mixture of religion,
splendor, and farce, though as a whole calculated to impress all with a
sentiment of awe toward one who gives to heaven, and receives from man,
such homage and worship.[224]
~HOMAGE RENDERED TO THE EMPEROR.~
Nothing is omitted which can add to the dignity and sacredness of the
Emperor’s person or character. Almost everything used by him, or in his
personal service, is tabued to the common people, and distinguished by
some peculiar mark or color, so as to keep up the impression of awe
with which he is regarded, and which is so powerful an auxiliary to his
throne. The outer gate of the palace must always be passed on foot, and
the paved entrance walk leading up to it can only be used by him. The
vacant throne, or even a screen of yellow silk thrown over a chair, is
worshipped equally with his actual presence, and an imperial dispatch
is received in the provinces with incense and prostrations; the vessels
on the canal bearing articles for his special use always have the right
of way. His birthday is celebrated by his officers, and the account
of the opening ceremony, as witnessed by Lord Macartney, shows how
skilfully every act tends to maintain his assumed character as the son
of heaven.
“The first day was consecrated to the purpose of rendering a solemn,
sacred, and devout homage to the supreme majesty of the Emperor. The
ceremony was no longer performed in a tent, nor did it partake of the
nature of a banquet. The princes, tributaries, ambassadors, and great
officers of state were assembled in a vast hall; and upon particular
notice were introduced into an inner building, bearing at least the
semblance of a temple. It was chiefly furnished with great instruments
of music, among which were sets of cylindrical bells suspended in a
line from ornamental frames of wood, and gradually diminishing in
size from one extremity to the other, and also triangular pieces of
metal, arranged in the same order as the bells. To the sound of these
instruments a slow and solemn hymn was sung by eunuchs, who had such a
command over their voices as to resemble the effect of musical glasses
at a distance. The performers were directed, in the gliding from one
tone to the other, by the striking of a shrill and sonorous cymbal;
and the judges of music among the gentlemen of the embassy were much
pleased with their execution. The whole had, indeed, a grand effect.
During the performance, and at particular signals, nine times repeated,
all present prostrated themselves nine times, except the ambassador
and his suite, who made a profound obeisance. But he whom it was meant
to honor continued, as if in imitation of the Deity, invisible the
whole time. The awful impression intended to be made upon the minds of
men by this apparent worship of a fellow-mortal was not to be effaced
by any immediate scenes of sport or gaiety, which were postponed to
the following day.”[225] The mass of the people are not admitted to
participate in these ceremonies; they are kept at a distance, and care,
in fact, very little about them. In every provincial capital there
is a hall, called _Wan-shao kung_, dedicated solely to the honor of
the Emperor, and where, three days before and after his birthday, all
the civil and military officers and the most distinguished citizens
assemble to do him the same homage as if he were present. The walls and
furniture are yellow.
The right of succession is hereditary in the male line, but it is
always in the power of the sovereign to nominate his successor from
among his own children. The heir-apparent is not commonly known during
the lifetime of the incumbent, though there is a titular office of
guardian of the heir-apparent. During the Tsing dynasty the succession
has varied, but the bloody scenes enacted in Turkey, Egypt, and India
to remove competitors are not known at Peking, and the people have no
fear that they will be enacted. Of the eight preceding sovereigns,
Shunchí was the ninth son, Kanghí the third, Yungching the fourth,
Kienlung the fourth, Kiaking the fifteenth, Taukwang the second,
Hienfung the fourth, and Tungchí the only son. When Kwangsü was
chosen this regular line failed, and thus was terminated an unbroken
succession during two hundred and fifty-nine years (1616 to 1875), when
ten rulers (including two in Manchuria) occupied the throne. It can be
paralleled only in Judah, where the line of David down to Jehoiachin
(B.C. 1055 to 599) continued regularly in the same manner--twenty kings
in four hundred and fifty-six years.
In the reign of Kienlung, one of the censors memorialized him upon the
desirableness of announcing his successor, in order to quiet men’s
minds and repress intrigue, but the suggestion cost the man his place.
The Emperor said that the name of his successor, in case of his own
sudden death, would be found in a designated place, and that it was
highly inexpedient to mention him, lest intriguing men buzzed about
him, forming factions and trying to elevate themselves. The soundness
of this policy cannot be doubted, and it is not unlikely that Kienlung
knew the evils of an opposite course from an acquaintance with the
history of some of the princes of Central Asia or India. One good
result of not indicating the heir-apparent is that not only are no
intrigues formed by the crown-prince, but when he begins to reign he is
seldom compelled, from fear of his own safety, to kill or imprison his
brothers or uncles; for, as they possess no power or party to render
them formidable, their ambition finds full scope for its exercise in
peaceful ways. In 1861, when the heir was a child of five years, a
palace intrigue was started to remove his custody out of the hands of
his mother into those of a cabal who had held sway for some years, but
the promoters were all executed.
~THE IMPERIAL HOUSE AND NOBILITY.~
The management of the imperial clan appertains entirely to the Emperor,
and has been conducted with considerable sagacity. All its members are
under the control of the _Tsung-jin fu_, a sort of clansmen’s court,
consisting of a presiding controller, two assistant directors, and two
deputies of the family. Their duties are to regulate whatever belongs
to the government of the Emperor’s kindred, which is divided into two
branches, the direct and collateral, or the _Tsung-shih_ and _Gioro_.
The _Tsung-shih_, or ‘Imperial House,’ comprise only the lineal
descendants of Tienming’s father, named Hien-tsu, or ‘Illustrious
Sire,’ who first assumed the title of Emperor A.D. 1616. The collateral
branches, including the children of his uncles and brothers, are
collectively called _Gioro_. Their united number is unknown, but a
genealogical record is kept in the national archives at Peking and
Mukden. The _Tsung-shih_ are distinguished by a yellow girdle, and the
_Gioro_ by a red one; when degraded, the former take a red, the latter
a carnation girdle. There are altogether twelve degrees of rank in the
_Tsung-shih_, and consequently some of the distant kindred are reduced
to straitened circumstances. They are shut out from useful careers, and
generally exhibit the evils ensuent upon the system of education and
surveillance adopted toward them, in their low, vicious pursuits, and
cringing imbecility of character. The sum of $133 is allowed when they
marry, and $150 to defray funeral expenses, which induces some of them
to maltreat their wives to death, in order to receive the allowance and
dowry as often as possible.
The titular nobility of the Empire, as a whole, is a body whose members
are without power, land, wealth, office, or influence, in virtue of
their honors; some of them are more or less hereditary, but the whole
system has been so devised, and the designations so conferred, as to
tickle the vanity of those who receive them, without granting them any
real power. The titles are not derived from landed estates, but the
rank is simply designated in addition to the name, and it has been a
question of some difficulty how to translate them. For instance, the
title _Kung tsin-wang_ literally means the ‘Reverent Kindred Prince,’
and should be translated Prince Kung, not Prince of Kung, which conveys
the impression to a foreign reader that _Kung_ is an appanage instead
of an epithet.
The twelve orders of nobility are conferred solely on the members of
the imperial house and clan: 1. _Tsin wang_, ‘kindred prince,’ _i.e._,
prince of the blood, conferred usually on his Majesty’s brothers or
sons. 2. _Kiun wang_, or ‘prince of a princedom;’ the eldest sons of
the princes of these two degrees take a definite rank during their
father’s lifetime, but the collateral branches descend in precedence
as the generations are more and more remote from the direct imperial
line, until at last the person is simply a member of the imperial clan.
These two ranks were termed _regulus_ by the Jesuit writers, and each
son of an Emperor enters one or other as he becomes of age. The highest
princes receive a stipend of about $13,300, some rations, and a retinue
of three hundred and sixty servants, altogether making an annual tax
on the state of $75,000 to $90,000. The second receive half that sum,
and inferior grades in a decreasing ratio, down to the simple members,
who each get four dollars a month and rations. 3 and 4. _Beile_ and
_Beitse_, or princes of and in collateral branches. The 5th to 8th are
dukes, called Guardian and Sustaining, with two subordinate grades not
entitled to enter the court on state occasions. The 9th to 12th ranks
are nobles, or rather generals, in line of descent. The number of
persons in the lower ranks is very great. Few of these men hold offices
at the capital, and still more rarely are they placed in responsible
situations in the provinces, but the government of Manchuria is chiefly
in their hands.
Besides these are the five ancient orders of nobility, _kung_, _hao_,
_peh_, _tsz’_, and _nan_, usually rendered duke, count, viscount,
baron, and baronet, which are conferred without distinction on Manchus,
Mongols, and Chinese, both civil and military, and as such are highly
prized by their recipients as marks of honor. The three first take
precedence of the highest untitled civilians, but an appointment to
most of the high offices in the country carries with it an honorary
title. The direct descendant of Confucius is called _Yen-shing
kung_, ‘the Ever-sacred duke,’ and of Koxinga _Hai-ching kung_, or
‘Sea-quelling duke;’ these two are the only perpetual titles among the
Chinese, but among the Manchus, the chiefs of eight families which
aided in settling the crown in the Gioro line were made hereditary
princes, who are collectively called princes of the iron crown. Besides
the above-mentioned, there are others, which are deemed even more
honorable, either from their rarity or peculiar privileges, and answer
to membership of the various orders of the Garter, Golden Fleece, Bath,
etc., in Europe.
~LIFE IN THE PALACE.~
The internal arrangements of the court are modelled somewhat after
those of the Boards, the general supervision being under the direction
of the _Nui-wu fu_, composed of a president and six assessors, under
whom are seven subordinate departments. It is the duty of these
officers to attend upon the Emperor and Empress at sacrifices, and
conduct the ladies of the harem to and from the palace; they oversee
the households of the sons of the Emperor, and direct, under his
Majesty, everything belonging to the palace and whatever appertains to
its supplies and the care of the imperial guard. The seven departments
are arranged so as to bear no little resemblance to a miniature state:
one supplies food and raiment; a second is for defence, to regulate the
body-guard when the Emperor travels; the third attends to the etiquette
the members of this great family must observe toward each other, and
brings forward the inmates of the harem when the Emperor, seated in
the inner hall of audience, receives their homage, led by the Empress
herself; a fourth department selects ladies to fill the harem, and
collects the revenue from crown lands; a fifth superintends all repairs
necessary in the palace, and sees that the streets of the city be
cleared whenever the Emperor, Empress, or any of the women or children
in the palace wish to go out; a sixth department has in charge the
herds and flocks of the Emperor; and the last is a court for punishing
the crimes of soldiers, eunuchs, and others attached to the palace.
The Emperor ought to have three thousand eunuchs, but the actual
number is rather less than two thousand, who perform the work of the
household. His sons and grandsons are allowed from thirty down to four,
while the iron-crown princes and imperial sons-in-law have twenty or
thirty; all these nobles are constrained to employ some eunuchs in
their establishments, if not able to maintain the full quota, for
show. Most of this class are compelled to submit to mutilation by
their parents before the age of eight (and not always from poverty),
as it usually insures a livelihood. Some take to this condition from
motives of laziness and the high duties falling to their share if
they behave themselves. From very ancient times certain criminals
have been punished by castration. There is a separate control for the
due efficiency of these servants of the court, who are divided into
forty-eight classes; during the present dynasty they have never caused
trouble. The highest pay any of them receive is twelve taels a month.
~POSITION OF THE EMPRESS AND LADIES.~
The number of females attached to the harem is not accurately known;
all of them are under the nominal direction of the Empress. Every third
year his Majesty reviews the daughters of the Manchu officers over
twelve years of age, and chooses such as he pleases for concubines;
there are only seven legal concubines, but an unlimited number of
illegal. The latter are restored to liberty when they reach the age
of twenty-five, unless they have borne children to his Majesty. It
is generally considered an advantage to a family to have a daughter
in the harem, especially by the Manchus, who endeavor to rise by
this backstairs influence.[226] To the poor women themselves it is a
monotonous, weary life of intriguing unrest. As soon as one enters
the palace she bids final adieu to all her male relatives, and rarely
sees her female friends; the eunuchs who take care of her are her
chief channels of communication with the outer world. It may be added,
however, that the comforts and influence of her condition are vastly
superior to those of Hindu females.
In the forty-eighth volume of the _Hwui Tien_, from which work most of
the details in this chapter are obtained, is an account of the supplies
furnished his Majesty and the court. There should daily be placed
before the Emperor thirty pounds of meat in a basin and seven pounds
boiled into soup; hog’s fat and butter, of each one and one-third
pound; two sheep, two fowls, and two ducks, the milk of eighty cows,
and seventy-five parcels of tea. Her Majesty receives twenty-one
pounds of meat in platters and thirteen pounds boiled with vegetables;
one fowl, one duck, twelve pitchers of water, the milk of twenty-five
cows, and ten parcels of tea. Her maids and the concubines receive
their rations according to a regular fare.
The Empress-dowager is the most important subject within the palace,
and his Majesty does homage at frequent intervals, by making the
highest ceremony of nine prostrations before her. When the widow of
Kiaking reached the age of sixty in 1836, many honors were conferred by
the Emperor. An extract from the ordinance issued on this festival will
exhibit the regard paid her by the sovereign:
“Our extensive dominions have enjoyed the utmost prosperity under the
shelter of a glorious and enduring state of felicity. Our exalted
race has become most illustrious under the protection of that honored
relative to whom the whole court looks up. To her happiness, already
unalloyed, the highest degree of felicity has been superadded,
causing joy and gladness to every inmate of the Six Palaces. The
grand ceremonies of the occasion shall exceed in splendor the utmost
requirements of the ancients in regard to the human relations, calling
forth the gratulation of the whole Empire. It is indispensable that
the observances of the occasion should be of an exceedingly unusual
nature, in order that our reverence for our august parent and care of
her may both be equally and gloriously displayed.... In the first month
of the present winter occurs the sixtieth anniversary of her Majesty’s
sacred natal day. At the opening of the happy period, the sun and moon
shed their united genial influences on it. When commencing anew the
revolution of the sexagenary cycle, the honor thereof adds increase
to her felicity. Looking upward and beholding her glory, we repeat
our gratulations, and announce the event to Heaven, to Earth, to our
ancestors, and to the patron gods of the Empire. On the nineteenth day
of the tenth moon in the fifteenth year of Taukwang, we will conduct
the princes, the nobles, and all the high officers, both civil and
military, into the presence of the great Empress, benign and dignified,
universally placid, thoroughly virtuous, tranquil and self-collected,
in favors unbounded; and we will then present our congratulations
on the glad occasion, the anniversary of her natal day. The occasion
yields a happiness equal to what is enjoyed by goddesses in heaven; and
while announcing it to the gods and to our people, we will tender to
her blessings unbounded.”
Besides the usual tokens of favor, such as rations to soldiers,
pardons, promotions, advances in official rank, etc., it was ordered
in the eleventh article, “That every perfectly filial son or obedient
grandson, every upright husband or chaste wife, upon proofs being
brought forward, shall have a monument erected, with an inscription in
his or her honor.” Soldiers who had reached the age of ninety or one
hundred received money to erect an honorary portal, and tombs, temples,
bridges, and roads were ordered to be repaired; but how many of these
“exceedingly great and special favors” were actually carried into
effect cannot be stated.[227]
~EMPEROR’S GUARD AND DIVISIONS OF THE PEOPLE.~
For the defence and escort of the Emperor and his palaces there are
select bodies of troops, which are stationed within the _Hwang-ching_
and the capital and at the various cantonments near the city. The
Bannermen form three separate corps, each containing the hereditary
troops of Manchu, Mongol, and enrolled Chinese, organized at the
beginning of the dynasty under eight standards. Their flags are
triangular, a plain yellow, white, red, and blue for troops in the left
wing, and the same bordered with a narrow stripe of another color for
troops in the right wing. All the families of these soldiers remain in
the corps into which they were born.
Two special forces are selected, one named the Vanguard Division, the
other the Flank Division, from the Manchu and Mongol Bannermen; these
guard the Forbidden City, form his Majesty’s escort when he goes out,
and number respectively about one thousand five hundred and fifteen
thousand men. For the preservation of the peace of the capital a
force of upward of twenty thousand, called the Infantry Division, or
Gendarmerie, is stationed in and around the walls, in addition to the
palace forces. Besides these a cadet corps of five hundred young men
armed with bows and spears, two battalions with firearms, and four
larger battalions of eight hundred and seventy-five men each, drilled
in rifle-practice, are relied on to aid the Gendarmerie and Vanguard
in case of danger. Whenever the One Man goes out of the palace gate to
cross the city, the streets through which he passes are screened with
matting, to keep off the crowds as well as diminish the risks of his
person. The result has been that few of the citizens have ever seen
their sovereign’s face during the last two hundred years. The young
Emperor Tungchí obtained great favor among them on one occasion of his
return from the Temple of Heaven by ordering the screen of mats to be
removed so that he and his people could see each other.
Under the Emperor is the whole body of the people, a great family bound
implicitly to obey his will as being that of heaven, and possessing no
right or property _per se_; in fact, having nothing but what has been
derived from or may at any time be reclaimed by him. The greatness
of this family, and the absence of an entailed aristocracy to hold
its members or their lands in serfdom, have been partial safeguards
against excess of oppression. Liberty is unknown among the people;
there is not even a word for it in the language. No acknowledgment on
the part of the sovereign of certain well-understood rights belonging
to the people has ever been required, and is not likely to be demanded
or given by either party until the Gospel shall teach them their
respective rights and duties. Emigration abroad, and even removal
from one part of the Empire to another, are prohibited or restrained
by old laws, but at present no real obstacle exists to changing one’s
place of residence or occupation. Notwithstanding the fact that
Chinese society is so homogeneous when considered as distinct from the
sovereign, inequalities of many kinds are constantly met with, some
growing out of birth or property, others out of occupation or merit,
but most of them derived from official rank. There is no caste as in
India, though the attempt to introduce the miserable system was vainly
made by Wăn-tí about A.D. 590. The ancient distinctions of the Chinese
into scholars, agriculturists, artisans, and traders is far superior
to that of Zoroaster into priests, warriors, agriculturists, and
artisans; a significant index of the different polities of eastern and
western Asiatic nations is contained in this early quaternary division,
and the superiority of the Chinese in its democratic element is also
noticeable. There are local prejudices against associating with some
portions of the community, though the people thus shut out are not
remnants of old castes. The _tankia_, or boat-people, at Canton form a
class in some respects beneath the other portions of the community, and
have many customs peculiar to themselves. At Ningpo there is a degraded
set called _to min_, amounting to nearly three thousand persons, with
whom the people will not associate. The men are not allowed to enter
the examinations or follow an honorable calling, but are play-actors,
musicians, or sedan-bearers; the women are match-makers or female
barbers and are obliged to wear a peculiar dress, and usually go abroad
carrying a bundle wrapped in a checkered handkerchief. The _tankia_ at
Canton also wear a similar handkerchief on their head, and do not cramp
their feet. The _to min_ are supposed to be descendants of the Kin, who
held northern China in A.D. 1100, or of native traitors who aided the
Japanese, in 1555-1563, in their descent upon Chehkiang. The _tankia_
came from some of the Miaotsz’ tribes so early that their origin is
unknown.[228]
The modern classifications of the people, recognized, however, more
by law than custom, are various and comprehensive. First, natives and
aliens; the latter include the unsubdued mountaineers and aboriginal
tribes living in various parts, races of boat-people on the coasts,
and all foreigners residing within the Empire, each of whom are
subject to particular laws. Second, conquerors and conquered; having
reference almost entirely to a prohibition of intermarriages between
Manchus and Chinese. Third, freemen and slaves; every native is allowed
to purchase slaves and retain their children in servitude, and free
persons sometimes forfeit their freedom on account of their crimes,
or mortgage themselves into bondage. Fourth, the honorable and the
mean, who cannot intermarry without the former forfeiting their
privileges; the latter comprise, besides aliens and slaves, criminals,
executioners, police-runners, actors, jugglers, beggars, and all other
vagrant or vile persons, who are in general required to pursue for
three generations some honorable and useful employment before they
are eligible to enter the literary examinations. These four divisions
extend over the whole body of the people, but really affect only a
small minority.
~SLAVES AND PRIVILEGED CLASSES.~
It is worthy of note how few have been the slaves in China, and how
easy has been their condition in comparison with what it was in
Greece and Rome. Owing chiefly to the prevalence of education in the
liberal principles of the Four Books, China has been saved from this
disintegrating element. The proportion of slaves to freemen cannot be
stated, but the former have never attracted notice by their numbers nor
excited dread by their restiveness. Girls are more readily sold than
boys; at Peking a healthy girl under twelve years brings from thirty to
fifty taels, rising to two hundred and fifty or three hundred for one
of seventeen to eighteen years old. In times of famine orphans or needy
children are exposed for sale at the price of a few cash.[229]
~EIGHT HONORARY RANKS.~
There are also eight privileged classes, of which the privileges of
imperial blood and connections and that of nobility are the only ones
really available; this privilege affects merely the punishment of
offenders belonging to either of the eight classes. The privilege of
imperial blood is extended to all the blood relations of the Emperor,
all those of the Empress-mother and grandmother within four degrees, of
the Empress within three, and of the consort of the crown prince within
two. Privileged noblemen comprise all officers of the first rank, all
of the second holding office, and all of the third whose office confers
a command. These ranks are distinct from titles of nobility, and are
much thought of by officers as honorary distinctions. There are nine,
each distinguished by a different colored ball placed on the apex of
the cap, by a peculiar emblazonry of a bird for civilians and a beast
for military officers on the breast, and a different clasp to the
girdle.
Civilians of the first rank wear a precious ruby or transparent red
stone; a Manchurian crane is embroidered on the back and breast of the
robe, while the girdle clasp is jade set in rubies; military men have
a unicorn, their buttons and clasps being the same as civilians.
Civilians of the second rank wear a red coral button, a robe
embroidered with a golden pheasant, and a girdle clasp of gold set in
rubies; the lion of India is emblazoned on the military.
Civilians of the third rank carry a sapphire and one-eyed peacock’s
feather, a robe with a peacock worked on the breast, and a clasp of
worked gold; military officers have a leopard.
[Illustration: Different Styles of Official Caps.]
Civilians of the fourth rank are distinguished by a blue opaque stone,
a wild goose on the breast, and a clasp of worked gold with a silver
button; military officers carry a tiger in place of the embroidered
wild goose.
Civilians of the fifth rank are denoted by a crystal button, a silver
pheasant on the breast, and a clasp of plain gold with a silver button;
the bear is the escutcheon of military men.
Civilians of the sixth rank wear an opaque white shell button, a blue
plume, an egret worked on the breast, and a mother-of-pearl clasp;
military men wear a tiger-cat.
Civilians of the seventh rank have a plain gold button, a mandarin duck
on the breast, and a clasp of silver; a mottled bear designates the
military, as it also does in the last rank.
The eighth rank wear a worked gold button, a quail on the breast, and
a clasp of clear horn; military men have a seal.
The ninth rank are distinguished by a worked silver button, a
long-tailed jay on the breast, and a clasp of buffalo’s horn; military
men are marked by a rhinoceros embroidered on the robe. All under the
ninth can embroider the oriole on their breasts, and unofficial Hanlin
take the egret.
The mass of people show their democratic tendencies in many ways, some
of them conservative and others disorganizing. They form themselves
into clans, guilds, societies, professions, and communities, all
of which assist them in maintaining their rights, and give a power
to public opinion it would not otherwise possess. Legally, every
subject is allowed access to the magistrates, secured protection from
oppression, and can appeal to the higher courts, but these privileges
are of little avail if he is poor or unknown. He is too deeply imbued
with fear and too ignorant of his rights to think of organized
resistance; his mental independence has been destroyed, his search
after truth paralyzed, his enterprise checked, and his whole efforts
directed into two channels, viz., labor for bread and study for office.
The people of a village, for instance, will not be quietly robbed of
the fruits of their industry; but every individual in it may suffer
multiplied insults, oppressions, and cruelties, without thinking of
combining with his fellows to resist. Property is held by a tolerably
secure tenure, but almost every other right and privilege is shamefully
trampled on.
Although there is nominally no deliberative or advisatory body in
the Chinese government, and nothing really analogous to a congress,
parliament, or _tiers état_, still necessity and law compel the Emperor
to consult and advise with the heads of tribunals. There are two
imperial councils, which are the organs of communication between the
head and the body politic; these are the Cabinet, or Imperial Chancery,
and the Council of State; both of them partake of a deliberative
character, but the first has the least power. Subordinate to these
two councils are the administrative parts of the supreme government,
consisting of the six Boards, the Colonial Office, Censorate, Courts
of Representation and Appeal, and the Imperial Academy; making in all
thirteen principal departments, each of which will require a short
description. It need hardly be added that there is nothing like an
elective body in any part of the system; such a feature would be almost
as incongruous to a Chinese as the election of a father by his family.
~THE NUI KOH, OR CABINET.~
1. The NUI KOH, or Cabinet, sometimes called the Grand Secretariat,
consists of four _ta hioh-sz’_, or principal, and two _hiehpan ta
hioh-sz’_, or ‘joint assistant chancellors,’ half of them Manchus and
half Chinese. Their duties, according to the Imperial Statutes, are
to “deliberate on the government of the Empire, proclaim abroad the
imperial pleasure, regulate the canons of state, together with the
whole administration of the great balance of power, thus aiding the
Emperor in directing the affairs of state.” Subordinate to these six
chancellors are six grades of officers, amounting in all to upward of
two hundred persons, of whom more than half are Manchus. Under the six
Chancellors are ten assistants, called _hioh-sz’_, ‘learned scholars;’
some of the sixteen are constantly absent in the provinces or colonies,
when their places are supplied by substitutes. What in other countries
is performed by one person as prime minister, is in China performed
by the four chancellors, of whom the first in the list is usually
considered to be the premier, though perhaps the most influential man
and the real leader of government holds another station.
The most prominent daily business of the Cabinet is to receive imperial
edicts and rescripts, present memorials, lay before his Majesty the
affairs of the Empire, procure his instructions thereon, and forward
them to the appropriate office to be copied and promulgated. In order
to expedite business in court, it is the custom, after the ministers
have read and formed an opinion upon each document, to fasten a
slip of paper at the foot--or more than one if elective answers are
to be given--and thus present the document to his Majesty, in the
presence-chamber, who, with a stroke of his pencil on the answer
he chooses, decides its fate. The papers, having been examined and
arranged, are submitted to the sovereign at daylight on the following
morning; one of the six Manchu _hioh-sz’_ first reads each document and
hands it over to one of the four Chinese _hioh-sz’_, who inscribes
the answer dictated by the sovereign, or hands it to him to perform
that duty with the vermilion pencil. By this arrangement a large amount
of business can be summarily despatched; but it is also evident that
much depends upon the manner in which the answer written upon the slip
is drawn up, as to the reception or rejection of the paper, though
care has been taken in this particular by requiring that codicils be
prepared showing the reasons for each answer. The appointment, removal,
and degradation of all officers throughout his vast dominions, orders
respecting the apportionment or remittal of the revenue and taxes,
disposition of the army, regulation of the nomadic tribes--in short,
all concerns, from the highest appointments and changes down to petty
police cases of crime, are in this way brought to the notice and action
of the Emperor.
Besides these daily duties there are additional functions devolving
upon the members of the Cabinet, who are likewise all attached to other
bureaus, such as presiding on all state occasions and sacrifices,
coronations, reception of embassies, etc.; these duties are fulfilled
by the ten assistant _hioh-sz’_, who are all vice-presidents of the
Board of Rites. They are the keepers of the twenty-five seals of
government, each of which is of a different form and used for different
and special purposes, according to the custom of orientals, who place
so much dependence upon the seal for vouching for the authenticity of
a document.[230] Attached to the Cabinet are ten subordinate offices,
one of which is for translating documents into the various languages
found in the Empire. The higher members of the Cabinet are familiarly
called _koh lao_, _i.e._, elders of the council-room, from which the
word _colao_, often met with in old books upon China, is derived.[231]
~THE KIUN-KÍ, OR GENERAL COUNCIL.~
2. The KIUN-KÍ CHU, Council of State or General Council, was organized
about 1730, but has now become the most influential body in the
government; and, though quite unlike in its construction, corresponds
to the _ministry_ of western nations, more than does any other branch
of the Chinese system. It can be composed of any grandees, as princes
of the blood, chancellors, presidents and vice-presidents of the Six
Boards, and chief officers of all the other metropolitan courts. They
are selected at the Emperor’s pleasure, and unitedly called “great
ministers directing the machinery of the army”--the army being here
taken to signify the nation. Its duties are “to write imperial edicts
and decisions, and determine such things as are of importance to the
army and nation, in order to aid the sovereign in regulating the
machinery of affairs.” The number of members of the General Council
probably varies according to his Majesty’s pleasure, for no list of
them is given in the _Red Book_; but latterly their number has been
four, two of each nationality, and Prince Kung as the president. This
body is one of the mainsprings of the government, and its composition
shows the tendency of the national councils and polity.
The members of the General Council assemble daily in the Forbidden
Palace, between five and six in the morning; when summoned by his
Majesty into the council-chamber they sit upon mats or low cushions,
no person being permitted to sit on chairs in the real or supposed
presence of the Emperor. His Majesty’s commands being written down
by them, are, if public, transmitted to the Inner Council to be
promulgated; but on any matter requiring secrecy or expedition, a
despatch is forthwith made up and sent under cover to the Board of
War, to be forwarded. In all important consultations or trials this
Council, either alone or in connection with the appropriate court, is
called in; and in time of war it is formed into a committee of ways
and means. Lists of officers entitled to promotion are kept by it, and
the names of proper persons to supply vacancies furnished the Emperor.
Many of the residents in the colonies are members of the Council,
and communicate directly with his Majesty through it, and receive
allowances and gifts with great formality from the throne--a device of
statecraft designed to maintain an awe of the imperial character and
name as much as possible among the mixed races under them.
The General Council fills an important station in the system, and tends
greatly to consolidate the various branches of government, facilitating
their harmonious action as well as supplying the deficiencies of
an imbecile, or restraining the acts of a tyrannical monarch. The
statutes speak of various record-books, both public and secret, kept
by the members for noting down the opinions of his Majesty, and add
that there are no fixed times for audiences, one or more sessions
being held daily, according to the exigencies of the state. Besides
these functions, its members are further charged with certain literary
matters, and three subordinate offices are attached to the Council
for their preparation. One is for drawing up narratives of important
transactions--a few of those relating to the wars and negotiations
with foreigners since 1839 would be of much interest now; a second
is for translating documents; and the third, entitled “an office for
observing that imperial edicts are carried into effect,” must be at
times rather an arduous task, though probably its responsibility ends
when the despatch goes forward. An office with this title shows that
the Chinese government, with all its business-like arrangements, is
still an Asiatic one.[232]
The duties of these supreme councils are general, comprising matters
relating to all departments of the government, and serving to connect
the head of the state with the subordinate bodies, not only at the
capital, but throughout the provinces, so that he can, and probably
does to a very great degree, thereby maintain a general acquaintance
with what is done in all parts, and sooner rectify disorders and
malpractices. The rivalry between their members, and the dislike
entertained by the Chinese and Manchus composing them, cause, no doubt,
some trouble to the Emperor; but this has some effect in thwarting
conspiracies and intrigues. It must not be supposed, however, that
every high officer in the Chinese government is wholly unprincipled,
venal, and intriguing; most of them desire to serve and maintain their
country. The personal character and knowledge of the monarch has
much to do with the efficiency of his government, and the guidance of
its affairs demands constant oversight. If he allows his ministers to
conduct their trusts without restraint, they soon engross and misuse
this power for selfish ends. In natural sequence every branch feels the
fatal laxity, while its functionaries lose no time in imitating their
superiors. This was the case during the reign of Hienfung, but matters
have much improved under the regency since 1861. In ordinary times,
the daily intercourse between the Emperor of China and his ministers
presents very similar features of confidence, courtesy, and esteem
between them as those seen in western lands.
~THE PEKING GAZETTE AND SIX BOARDS.~
The _King Pao_, _i.e._, ‘_Metropolitan Reporter_,’ usually called the
_Peking Gazette_, is compiled from the papers presented before the
General Council, and constitutes the principal source of information
available to the people for ascertaining what is going on in the
Empire. Every morning ample extracts from the papers decided upon or
examined by the Emperor, including his own orders and rescripts, are
placarded upon boards in a court of the palace, and form the materials
for the annals of government and the history of the Empire. Couriers
are despatched to all parts of the land, carrying copies of these
papers to the high provincial officers; certain persons are also
permitted to print these documents, but always without note or change,
and circulate them at their own charges to their customers. This is the
_Peking Gazette_, and such the mode of its compilation. It is simply a
record of official acts, promotions, decrees, and sentences, without
any editorial comments or explanations; and as such of great value in
understanding the policy of government. It is very generally read and
discussed by educated people in cities, and tends to keep them more
acquainted with the character and proceedings of their rulers than
ever the Romans were of their sovereigns and Senate. In the provinces
thousands of persons find employment by copying and abridging the
_Gazette_ for readers who cannot afford to purchase the complete
edition.[233]
The principal executive bodies under these two Councils are the _Luh
Pu_, or ‘Six Boards,’ which were modelled on much the same plan during
the ancient dynasties. At the head of each Board are two presidents,
called _shang-shu_, and four vice-presidents, called _shílang_,
alternately a Manchu and a Chinese; and over three of them--those of
Revenue, War, and Punishment--are placed superintendents, who are
frequently members of the Cabinet; sometimes the president of one Board
is superintendent of another. There are three subordinate grades of
officers in each Board, who may be called directors, under-secretaries,
and controllers, with a great number of minor clerks, and their
appropriate departments for conducting the details of the general and
peculiar business coming under the cognizance of the Board, the whole
being arranged and subordinated in the most business-like style. The
detail of all the departments in the general and provincial governments
is regulated in the same manner. For instance, each Board has a
different style of envelope for its despatches, and the papers in the
offices are filed away in them.
3. The LÍ PU, or Board of Civil Office, “has the government and
direction of all the various officers in the civil service of the
Empire, and thereby it assists the Emperor to rule all people;” these
duties are further defined as including “whatever appertains to the
plans of selecting rank and gradation, to the rules of determining
degradation and promotion, to the ordinances of granting investitures
and rewards, and the laws for fixing schedules and furloughs, that the
civil service may be supplied.” Civilians are presented to the Emperor,
and all civil and literary officers throughout the Empire distributed
by this Board. The great power apparently thus entrusted is shared
by the two preceding, whose members are made advisory overseers of
the highest appointments, while the provincial authorities put men in
vacant posts as fast as they are needed. The danger arising from the
arrangement is noticed by Biot[234] as having early attracted criticism.
This Board is subdivided into four bureaus. The first attends to the
distinctions, precedence, promotion, exchanging, etc., of officers.
The second investigates their merits and worthiness to be recorded
and advanced, or contrariwise; ascertains the character each officer
bears and the manner in which he fulfils his duties, and prescribes his
furloughs. The third regulates retirement from office on account of
mourning or filial duties, and supervises the registration of official
names; it is through this bureau that Hwang Ngăn-tung, the Governor of
Kwangtung, was degraded in 1846 for not resigning his office on the
death of his mother. The fourth regulates the distribution of titles,
patents, and posthumous honors. The Chinese is the only government
that ennobles ancestors for the merits of their descendants; the
custom arose out of the worship paid them, in which the rites are
proportionate to the rank of the deceased, not of the survivor; and if
the deceased parent or grandparent were commoners, they receive proper
titles in consequence of the elevation of their son or grandson. This
custom is not a trick of state to get money, for commoners cannot
buy these posthumous titles; they can only buy nominal titles for
themselves. The usage, however, offers an unexpected illustration of
the remark of Job, “His sons come to honor, and he knoweth it not.”
~BOARDS OF REVENUE AND RITES.~
4. The HU PU, or Board of Revenue, “directs the territorial government
of the Empire, and keeps the lists of population in order to aid
the Emperor in nourishing all people; whatever appertains to the
regulations for levying and collecting duties and taxes, to the plans
for distributing salaries and allowances, to the rates for receipts
and disbursements at the granaries and treasuries, and to the rights
for transporting by land and water are reported to this Board, that
sufficient supplies for the country may be provided.” Besides these
duties, it obtains the admeasurement of all lands in the Empire, and
proportions taxes and conscriptions, according to the divisions,
population, etc., regulates the expenditure, and ascertains the
latitude and longitude of places. One minor office prepares lists of
all the Manchu girls fit to be introduced into the palace for selection
as inmates of the harem, a duty which is enjoined on it because the
allowances, outfits, and positions of these women come within its
control. The injudicious mode of collecting revenue common under the
Persian and Syrian kings, by which the sums obtained from single cities
and provinces were apportioned among the royal family and favorites,
and carried directly to them, has never been practised by the Chinese.
There are fourteen subordinate departments to attend to the receipt
of the revenue from each of the provinces, each of which corresponds
with the treasury department in its respective province. The revenue
being paid in sundry ways and articles, as money, grain, manufactures,
etc., the receipt and distribution of the various articles require a
large force of assistants. This Board is moreover a court of appeal
on disputes respecting property, and superintends the mint in each
province; one bureau is called the “great ministers of the Three
Treasuries,” viz., of metals, silks and dye-stuffs, and stationery.
5. The LÍ PU, or Board of Rites, “examines and directs concerning
the performance of the five kinds of ritual observances, and makes
proclamation thereof to the whole Empire, thus aiding the Emperor
in guiding all people. Whatever appertains to the ordinances for
regulating precedence and literary distinctions, to the canons for
maintaining religious honor and fidelity, to the orders respecting
intercourse and tribute, and to the forms of giving banquets and
granting bounties, are reported to this Board in order to promote
national education.” The five classes of rites are defined to be
those of a propitious and those of a felicitous nature, military and
hospitable rites, and those of an infelicitous nature. Among the
subordinate departments is that of ceremonial forms, which “has the
regulation of the etiquette to be observed at court on all occasions,
on congratulatory attendances, in the performance of official duties,
etc.; also the regulation of dresses, caps, etc.; as to the figure,
size, color, and nature of their fabrics and ornaments, of carriages
and riding accoutrements, their form, etc., with the number of
followers and insignia of rank. It has also the direction of the entire
ceremonial of personal intercourse between the various ranks or peers,
minutely defining the number of bows and degree of attention which each
is to pay to the other when meeting in official capacities, according
as they are on terms of equality or otherwise. It has also to direct
the forms of their written official intercourse, including those to be
observed in addresses to and from foreign states. The regulation of the
literary examinations, the number of the graduates, the distinction
of their classes, the forms of their selection, and the privileges of
successful candidates, with the establishment of governmental schools
and academies, are all under this department.”
Another office superintends the rites to be observed in worshipping
deities and spirits of departed monarchs, sages, and worthies, and in
“saving the sun and moon” when eclipsed. The third, called “host and
guest office,” looks after tribute and tribute-bearers, and takes the
whole management of foreign embassies, supplying not only provisions,
but translators, and ordering the mode of intercourse between China and
other states. The fourth oversees the supplial of food for banquets
and sacrifices. The details of all the multifarious ritual duties of
this Board occupy fourteen volumes of the Statutes. “Truly nothing is
without its ceremonies,” as Confucius taught, and no nation has paid
so much attention to them in the ordering of its government as the
Chinese. The _Book of Rites_ is the foundation of ceremonies and the
infallible standard as to their meaning; the importance attached to
them has elevated etiquette and ritualism into a kind of crystallizing
force which has molded Chinese character in many ways.
Connected with the Board of Rites is a Board of Music, containing an
indefinite number of officers whose duties “are to study the principles
of harmony and melody, to compose musical pieces and form instruments
proper to play them, and then suit both to the various occasions
on which they are required.” Nor are the graces of posture-making
neglected by these ceremony-mongers; but it may with truth be said,
that if no other nation ever had a Board of Music, and required so much
official music as the Chinese, certainly none ever had less real melody.
~THE PING PU, OR BOARD OF WAR.~
6. The PING PU, or Board of War, “has the duty of aiding the sovereign
to protect the people by the direction of all military affairs in
the metropolis and the provinces, and to regulate the hinge of
the state upon the reports received from the various departments
regarding deprivation of, or appointment to, office; succession to, or
creation of, hereditary military rank; postal or courier arrangements;
examination and selection of the deserving, and accuracy of returns.”
The navy is also under the control of this Board. The management of
the post is confided to a special department, and the transmission of
official despatches is performed with great efficiency and regularity.
A minor bureau of the courier office is called “the office for the
announcement of victories,” which, from a recital of its duties,
appears to be rather a _grande vitesse_, whose couriers should hasten
as if they announced a victory.
To enable this Board of War to discharge its duties, they are
apportioned under four _sz’_, or bureaus, severally attending to
promotion for various reasons; to the regulation of the distribution
of rewards and punishments, inspection of troops and issue of general
orders, answering to an adjutant-general’s department; to the supply
and distribution of horses for the cavalry; and, lastly, to the
examination of candidates, preparation of estimates and rosters,
with all the details connected with equipments and ammunition. The
conception of all government with the Manchus being military and not
civil, they have developed this Board more than was the case during the
last dynasty, the possessions in Central Asia having drawn greatly on
their resources and prowess.
The Household troops and city Gendarmerie have already been noticed;
their control is vested in the _Nui-wu Fu_, and the oversight of all
the Bannermen in the Empire vests in the metropolitan office of the
_Tu-tung_, or Captains-general, of whom there are twenty-four, one to
every banner of each race. The Board of War has no control directly
over this large portion of the Chinese army, and as the direction of
the land and sea forces in each province is entrusted in a great degree
to the local authorities, its duties are really more circumscribed than
one would at first imagine. The singular subordination of military to
civil power, which has ever distinguished the Chinese polity, makes
the study of the army, as at present constituted, a very interesting
feature of the national history; for while it has often proved
inefficient to repress insurrection and defend the people against
brigandage, it has never been used to destroy their institutions. In
times of internal commotion the national soldiers have usually been
loyal to their flag, though it must be confessed that discipline
within the ranks is not so perfect as to prevent the soldiers from
occasionally harassing and robbing those whom they are set to
protect.[235]
~BOARDS OF PUNISHMENTS AND WORKS.~
7. The HING PU, or Board of Punishments, “has the government and
direction of punishments throughout the Empire, for the purpose of
aiding the sovereign in correcting all people. Whatever appertains
to measures of applying the laws with leniency or severity, to the
task of hearing evidence and giving decisions, to the rights of
granting pardons, reprieves, or otherwise, and to the rate of fines
and interest, are all reported to this Board, to aid in giving dignity
to national manners.” The _Hing Pu_ partakes of the nature of both a
criminal and civil court; its officers usually meet with those of the
Censorate and Talí Sz’, the three forming the _San Fah Sz’_, or ‘Three
Law Chambers,’ which decide on capital cases brought before them.
In the autumn these three unite with members from six other courts,
forming collectively a Court of Errors, to revise the decisions of
the provincial judges before reporting them to his Majesty. These
precautions are taken to prevent injustice when life is involved,
and the system shows an endeavor to secure a full and impartial
consideration for all capital cases, which, although it may signally
fail of its full effect, does the rulers high credit, when the small
value set upon life generally by Asiatic governments is considered.
These bodies are expected to conform their decisions to the law, nor
are they permitted to cite the Emperor’s own decisions as precedents,
without the law on these decisions has been expressly entered as a
supplementary clause in the code.
It also belongs to sub-officers in the Board of Punishments to
record all his Majesty’s decisions upon appeals from the provinces
at the autumnal assizes, when the entire list is presented for his
examination and ultimate decision, and see that these sentences are
transmitted to the provincial judges. Another office superintends
the publication of the code, with all the changes and additions; a
third oversees jails and jailers; a fourth receives the fines levied
by commutation of punishments, and a fifth registers the receipts
and expenditures. If the administration of the law in China at all
corresponded with the equity of most of its enactments, or the caution
taken to prevent collusion, malversation, and haste on the part of
the judges, it would be incomparably the best governed country out of
Christendom; but the painful contrast between good laws and wicked
rulers is such as to show the utter impossibility of securing the
due administration of justice without higher moral principles than
heathenism can teach.
The _yamun_ of the _Hing Pu_ in the capital is the most active of all
the Boards, but little is known of what goes on within its walls. Its
prisoners are mostly brought from the provinces, officers of high
rank arrested for malfeasance or failure, and criminals convicted
or condemned there who have appealed to the highest tribunals. Few
of those who enter its gates ever return through them, and their
sufferings seldom end as long as they have any property left. The
narrative of the horrible treatment endured by Loch and his comrades
in 1860, while confined within this _yamun_, gives a vivid picture
of their sufferings, but native prisoners are not usually kept bound
and pinioned. In the rear wall of the establishment is an iron door,
through which dead bodies are thrust to be carried away to burial.
8. The KUNG PU, or Board of Works, “has the government and direction
of the public works throughout the Empire, together with the current
expenses of the same, for the purpose of aiding the Emperor to keep
all people in a state of repose. Whatever appertains to plans for
buildings of wood or earth, to the forms of useful instruments, to the
laws for stopping up or opening channels, and to the ordinances for
constructing the mausolea and temples, are reported to this Board in
order to perfect national works.” Its duties are of a miscellaneous
nature, and are performed in other countries by no one department,
though the plan adopted by the Chinese is not without its advantages.
One bureau takes cognizance of the condition of all city walls,
palaces, temples, altars, and other public structures; sits as a
prize-office, and furnishes tents for his Majesty’s journeys; supplies
timber for ships, and pottery and glassware for the court. A second
attends to the manufacture of military stores and utensils employed
in the army; sorts the pearls from the fisheries according to their
value; regulates weights and measures, furnishes “death-warrants” to
governors and generals; and, lastly, takes charge of arsenals, stores,
camp-equipage, and other things appertaining to the army. A third
department has charge of all water-ways and dikes; it also repairs and
digs canals, erects bridges, oversees the banks of rivers by means
of deputies stationed at posts along their course, builds vessels of
war, collects tolls, mends roads, digs the sewers in Peking and cleans
out its gutters, preserves ice, makes book-cases for public records,
and, lastly, looks after the silks sent as taxes. The fourth of these
offices confines its attention chiefly to the condition of the imperial
mausolea, the erection of the sepulchres and tablets of meritorious
officers buried at public expense, and the adornment of temples and
palaces, as well as superintending all workmen employed by the Board.
The mint is under the direction of two vice-presidents, and the
manufacture of gunpowder is specially intrusted to two great ministers.
One would think, from this recital, that the functions of the Board of
Works were so diverse that it would be one of the most efficient parts
of government; but if the condition of forts, ports, dikes, etc., in
other parts of the country corresponds to those along the coast, there
is, as the Emperor once said of the army, “the appearance of going
to war, but not the reality”--most of the works being on record, and
suffered to remain there, except when danger threatens, or his Majesty
specially orders a public work, and, what is more important, furnishes
the money.
~THE LÍ FAN YUEN, OR COLONIAL OFFICE.~
9. The LÍ FAN YUEN, or Court for the Government of Foreigners, commonly
called the Colonial Office, “has the government and direction of the
external foreigners, orders their emoluments and honors, appoints their
visits to court, and regulates their punishments, in order to display
the majesty and goodness of the state.” This is an important branch
of the government, and has the superintendence of all the wandering
and settled tribes in Mongolia, Cobdo, Ílí, and Koko-nor. All these
are called _wai fan_, or ‘external foreigners,’ in distinction from
the tributary tribes in Sz’chuen and Formosa, who are termed _nui
fan_, or ‘internal foreigners.’ There are also _nui í_ and _wai í_, or
‘internal and external barbarians,’ the former comprising the unsubdued
mountaineers of Kweichau, and the latter the inhabitants of all foreign
countries who do not choose to range themselves under the renovating
influences of the Celestial Empire. The Colonial Office regulates the
government of the nomads and restricts their wanderings, lest they
trespass on each other’s pasture-grounds. Its officers are all Manchus
and Mongols, having over them one president and two vice-presidents,
Manchus, and one Mongolian vice-president appointed for life.
Besides the usual secretaries for conducting its general business,
there are six departments, whose combined powers include every branch
necessary for the management of these clans. The first two have
jurisdiction over the numerous tribes and corps of the Inner Mongols,
who are under more complete subjection than the others, and part
have been placed under the control of officers in Chihlí and Shansí.
The appointment of local officers, collecting taxes, allotting land
to Chinese settlers, opening roads, paying salaries, arranging the
marriages, retinues, visits to courts, and presents made by the princes
and the review of the troops, all appertain to these two departments.
The third and fourth have a similar, but less effectual control over
the princes, lamas, and tribes of Outer Mongolia. At Urga reside two
high ministers, organs of communication with Russia, and general
overseers of the frontier. The oversight of the lama hierarchy in
Mongolia is now completely under the control of this office; and in
Tibet their power has been considerably abridged. The fifth department
directs the actions, restrains the powers, levies the taxes, and orders
the tributary visits of the Mohammedan begs in the Tien shan Nan Lu,
who are quiet pretty much as they are paid by presents and flattered
by honors. The sixth department regulates the penal discipline of
the tributary tribes. The salaries paid the Mongolian princes are
distributed according to an economical scale. A _tsin wang_ annually
receives $2,600 and twenty-five pieces of silk; a _kiun wang_ receives
about $1,666 and fifteen pieces of silk; and so on through the ranks of
Beile, Beitse, Duke, etc., the last of whom gets a stipend of only $133
and four pieces of silk. The internal organization of these tribes is
probably the same now as it was at first among the Scythians and Huns,
and partakes of the features of the feudal and tribal system, modified
by the nomadic lives they are obliged to lead. The Chinese government
is endeavoring to reduce the influence and retinues of the khans and
begs and elevate the people to positions of independent owners and
cultivators of the soil.
~THE TU-CHAH YUEN, OR CENSORATE.~
10. The TU-CHAH YUEN, or Censorate, _i.e._, ‘All-examining Court,’ is
entrusted with the “care of manners and customs, the investigation of
all public offices within and without the capital, the discrimination
between the good and bad performance of their business, and between
the depravity and uprightness of the officers employed in them; taking
the lead of other censors, and uttering each his sentiments and
reproofs, in order to cause officers to be diligent in attention to
their daily duties, and to render the government of the Empire stable.”
The Censorate, when joined with the Board of Punishments and Court
of Appeal, forms a high court for the revision of criminal cases and
hearing appeals from the provinces; and, in connection with the Six
Boards and the Court of Representation and Appeal, makes one of the
_Kiu King_, or ‘Nine Courts,’ which deliberate on important affairs of
government.
The officers are two censors and four deputy censors, besides whom the
governors, lieutenant-governors, and the governors of rivers and inland
navigation are _ex-officio_ deputy censors. A class of censors is
placed over each of the Six Boards, whose duties are to supervise all
their acts, to receive all public documents from the Cabinet, and after
classifying them transmit them to the several courts to which they
belong, and to make a semi-monthly examination of the papers entered
on the archives of each court. All criminal cases in the provinces
come under the oversight of the censors at the capital, and the
department which superintends the affairs of the metropolis revises its
municipal acts, settles the quarrels, and represses the crimes of its
inhabitants. These are the duties of the Censorate, than which no part
of the Chinese government has attracted more attention. The privilege
of reproof given by the law to the office of censor has sometimes been
exercised with remarkable candor and plainness, and many cases are
recorded in history of these officers suffering for their fidelity, but
such instances must be few indeed in proportion to the failures.
The celebrated Sung, who was appointed commissioner to accompany
Lord Macartney, once remonstrated with the Emperor Kiaking upon his
attachment to play-actors and strong drink, which degraded him in the
eyes of his people and incapacitated him from performing his duties.
The Emperor, highly irritated, called him to his presence, and on his
confessing to the authorship of the memorial, asked him what punishment
he deserved. He answered, “Quartering.” He was told to select some
other; “Let me be beheaded;” and on a third command, he chose to be
strangled. He was then ordered to retire, and the next day the Emperor
appointed him governor in Ílí, thus acknowledging his rectitude, though
unable to bear his censure.
History records the reply of another censor in the reign of an Emperor
of the Tang dynasty, who, when his Majesty once desired to inspect the
archives of the historiographer’s office, in order to learn what had
been recorded concerning himself, under the excuse that he must know
his faults before he could well correct them, was answered: “It is true
your Majesty has committed a number of errors, and it has been the
painful duty of our employment to take notice of them; a duty which
further obliges us to inform posterity of the conversation which your
Majesty has this day, very improperly, held with us.”
The censors usually attend on all state occasions by the side of his
Majesty, and are frequently allowed to express their opinions openly,
but in a despotic government this is little else than a fiction of
state, for the fear of offending the imperial ear, and consequent
disgrace, will usually prove stronger than the consciousness of
right or the desires of a public fame and martyrdom for the sake of
principle. The usual mode of advising is to send in a remonstrance
against a proposed act, as when one of the body in 1832 remonstrated
against the Emperor paying attention to anonymous accusations; or to
suggest a different procedure, as the memorials of Chu Tsun against
legalizing opium. The number of these papers inserted in the _Peking
Gazette_ for the information of the Empire, in many of which the acts
of officers are severely reprehended, shows that the censors are not
altogether idle. In 1833 a censor named Sü requested the Emperor to
interdict official persons at court from writing private letters
concerning public persons and affairs in the provinces. He stated
that when candidates left the capital for their provincial stations,
private letters were sent by them from their friends to the provincial
authorities, “sounding the voice of influence and interest,” by which
means justice was perverted. The Emperor ordered the Cabinet to examine
the censor and get his facts in proof of these statements, but on
inquiry he either would not or could not bring forward any cases,
and he himself consequently received a reprimand. “These censors are
allowed,” says the Emperor, “to tell me the reports they hear, to
inform me concerning courtiers and governors who pervert the laws,
and to speak plainly about any defect or impropriety which they may
observe in the monarch himself; but they are not permitted to employ
their pencils in writing memorials which are filled with vague surmises
and mere probabilities or suppositions. This would only fill my mind
with doubts and uncertainty, and I would not know what men to employ;
were this spirit indulged, the detriment of government would be most
serious. Let Sü be subjected to a court of inquiry.”
The suspension or disgrace of censors for their freedom of speech is
a common occurrence, and among the forty or fifty persons who have
this privilege a few are to be found who do not hesitate to lift up
their voice against what they deem to be wrong; and there is reason
for supposing that only a small portion of their remonstrances appears
in the _Gazette_. With regard to this department of government, it is
to be observed that although it may tend only in a partial degree to
check oppression and reform abuses, and while a close examination of
its real operations and influence and the character of its members
may excite more contempt than respect, still the existence of such a
body, and the publication of its memorials, can hardly fail to rectify
misconduct to some degree, and check maladministration before it
results in widespread evil. The Censorate is, however, only one of a
number of checks upon the conduct of officers, and perhaps by no means
the strongest.[236]
~COURTS OF TRANSMISSION AND JUDICATURE.~
11. The TUNG-CHING SZ’, which may be called a Court of Transmission,
consists of a small body of six officers, whose duty is to receive
memorials from the provincial authorities and appeals from their
judgment by the people and present them to the Cabinet. Attached to
this Court is an office for attending at the palace-gate to await the
beating of a drum, which, in conformity with an ancient custom, is
placed there that applicants may by striking it obtain a hearing. It
is also the channel through which the people can directly appeal to
his Majesty, and cases occur of individuals, even women and girls,
travelling to the capital from remote places to present their petitions
for redress before the throne. The feeling of blood revenge prevails
among the Chinese, and impels many of these weak and unprotected
persons to undergo great hardships to obtain legal redress, when the
lives of their parents have been unjustly taken by powerful and rich
enemies.
12. The TA-LÍ SZ’, or Court of Judicature and Revision, has the duty of
adjusting all the criminal courts in the Empire, and forms the nearest
approach to a Supreme Court in the government, though the cases brought
before it are mostly criminal. When the crimes involve life, this and
the preceding unite with the Censorate to form one court, and if the
judges are not unanimous in their decisions they must report their
reasons to the Emperor, who will pass judgment upon them. In a despotic
government no one can expect that the executive officers of courts will
exercise their functions with that caution and equity required in
Christian countries, but considerable care has been taken to obtain as
great a degree of justice as possible.
~THE HANLIN AND MINOR COURTS.~
13. The HANLIN YUEN, or Imperial Academy, is entrusted “with the duty
of drawing up governmental documents, histories, and other works;
its chief officers take the lead of the various classes, and excite
their exertions to advance in learning in order to prepare them for
employments and fit them for attending upon the sovereign.” This
body has, it is highly probable, some similarity to the collection
of learned men to whom the King of Babylon entrusted the education
of promising young men, for although the members of the Hanlin Yuen
do not, to any great degree, educate persons, they are constantly
referred to as the Chaldeans were by Belshazzar. Sir John Davis likens
it to the Sorbonne, inasmuch as it expounds the sacred books of the
Chinese. Its chief officers are two presidents or senior members,
called _chwang yuen hioh-sz’_, who are usually appointed for life; they
attend upon the Emperor, superintend the studies of graduates, and
furnish semi-annual lists of persons to be “speakers” at the “classical
feasts,” where the literary essays of his Majesty are translated from
and into Manchu and read before him.
Subordinate to the two senior members are four grades of officers, five
in each grade, together with an unlimited number of senior graduates,
each forming a sort of college, whose duties are to prepare all works
published under governmental sanction; these persons are subject from
time to time to fresh examination, and are liable to lose their degrees
or be altogether dismissed from office if found faulty or deficient.
Subordinate to the Hanlin Yuen is an office consisting of twenty-two
selected members, who in rotation attend on the Emperor and make a
record of his words and actions. There is also an additional office for
the preparation of national histories.
The situation of a member of the Hanlin is one of considerable honor
and literary ease, and scholars look forward to a station in it as one
which confers dignity in a government where all officers are appointed
according to their literary merit, but much more from its being the
body from which the Emperor selects his most responsible officers.
A graduate of this rank is most likely to be nominated to a vacant
office, though the possession of the title does not of itself warrant
a place.[237]
Before proceeding to consider the provincial governments, notices of
some of the other departments not connected with the general machinery
of the state are here in place. The municipality of Peking has
already been mentioned when describing the capital; it is intimately
connected with the general government and forms an integral part of
the machine. Among the courts not connected with the municipal rule
of the metropolis, nor forming one of the great departments of state,
is _Tai-chang Sz’_, or ‘Sacrificial Court,’ whose officers “direct
the sacrificial observances and distinguish the various instruments
and the quality of the sacrifices.” Their duties are of importance
in connection with the state religion, and they rank high among the
court dignitaries of the Empire, but as members of this, possess no
power. The _Tai-puh Sz’_, or Superintendent of H. I. M.’s Stud, is
an office for “rearing horses, taking account of their increase, and
regulating their training;” large tracts of land beyond the Great Wall
are appropriated to this purpose, and the clerks of this office, under
the direction of the Board of War, oversee the herdsmen and grooms.
The _Kwangluh Sz’_, or ‘Banqueting House,’ has the charge of “feasting
the meritorious and banqueting the deserving;” it is somewhat
subordinate to the Board of Rites, and provides whatever is necessary
for banquets given to literary graduates, foreign ambassadors, etc. The
_Hunglu Sz’_, or ‘Ceremonial Court,’ regulates the forms to be observed
at these banquets, which consist in little else than marshalling the
guests according to their proper ranks and directing them when to
make the _kotow_, called also _san kwei kiu kao_, “three kneelings
and nine knockings.” The _Kwoh-tsz’ Kien_, or ‘National College,’
is a different institution from the Hanlin Yuen, and intended for
teaching graduates of the lower degrees; the departments of study are
the Chinese language, the classics and mathematics, each branch having
its appropriate teachers, with some higher officers, both Chinese and
Manchu.
The _Kin Tien Kien_, or ‘Imperial Astronomical College,’ as might be
expected, is much more astrological than astronomical; its duties
are defined to be “to direct the ascertainment of times and the
movements of the heavenly bodies, in order to attain conformity with
the celestial periods and to regulate the notation of time among
men; all things relating to divination and the selection of days are
under its charge.” The preparation of the almanac, in which, among
other things, lucky and unlucky days are marked for the performance
of all the important acts of life, and astrological and chiromantic
absurdities inserted for the amusement of fortune-tellers and others,
the instruction of a few pupils, and care of the observatory, occupy
most of the time of its officers. It is now of no practical use, and
as the _Tung-wăn Kwan_ develops into a learned and efficient college,
including astronomy and medicine and their kindred branches, these
native Boards will gradually pass away.
~RELATION OF THE EMPEROR WITH HIS OFFICIALS.~
The other local courts of the capital seem to have been subdivided and
multiplied to a great degree for the purpose of affording employment to
a larger number of persons, especially Manchus and graduates, so that
the Emperor can attach them to himself and be surer of their support
in case of any insurrection on the part of the people, and also that
he may have them more under his control. The number of clerks and
minor offices in all the general departments of state is doubtless
more numerous than it would be in a European government. In the mutual
relations of the great departments of the Chinese government the
principles of responsibility and surveillance among the officers are
plainly exhibited, while regard has been paid to such a division and
apportionment of labor as would secure great efficiency and care, if
every member of the machine faithfully did his duty. Two presidents
are stationed over each Board to assist and watch each other, while
the two presidents oversee the four vice-presidents; the president of
one Board is sometimes the vice-president of another; and by means
of the Censorate and the General Council every portion is brought
under the cognizance of several independent officers, whose mutual
jealousy and regard for individual advancement, or a partial desire
for the well-being of the state, affords the Emperor some guarantee
of fidelity. The seclusion in which he lives makes it difficult for
any conspirator to approach his person, but his own fears regarding
the management of such an immense Empire compel him to inform himself
respecting the actions of ministers, generals, and proconsular
governors. The conduct and devotion of hundreds of officers, both civil
and military, during the wars with Great Britain and the suppression of
rebellions within the last thirty years, afford proof enough that he
has attached his subordinates to his service by some other principle
than fear. The total number of civilians holding office is estimated at
about fourteen thousand persons, but those dependent on the government
are many times this amount.
The rulers of China have contrived the system of provincial governments
in an admirable manner, considering the character of the people and
the materials they had to work with; no better proof of their sagacity
in this respect can be required than the general degree of good order
which has been maintained for nearly two centuries, and the great
progress the people have made in wealth, numbers, and power. By a
well-arranged plan of checks and changes in the provincial authorities,
the chances of their abusing position and power and combining to
overthrow the supreme government have been reduced almost to an
impossibility; the influence of mutual responsibility among them does
something to prevent outrageous oppression of the people, by leading
one to accuse another of high crimes in order to exonerate himself or
obtain his place. The sons and relatives of the Emperor being excluded
from civil office in the provinces, the high-spirited and talented
native Chinese do not feel inclined to cabal against the government
because every avenue to emolument and power is filled and closed
against them by creatures and connections of the sovereign; nor when
in office are they disposed to attempt the overthrow of the reigning
family, lest they lose what has cost them many years of toilsome study
and the wealth and influence of friends to attain. The examination of
these pashaliks is furthermore entitled to notice from the degree of
power delegated to their highest officers, and the shrewd manner in
which its exercise has been circumscribed and rendered amenable to its
imperial source.
~HIGHER PROVINCIAL AUTHORITIES.~
The highest officers in the provinces are a _tsungtuh_, lit. ‘general
director,’ or governor-general, and the _futai_ or _fuyuen_, ‘soother’
or governor. The former is often called a viceroy, but that term seems
to be quite inapplicable when used to denote an officer within the
limits of the state; governor-general, or proconsul, is more analogous
to his duties. A translation of these and many other Chinese titles
does not convey their exact functions, but in some cases an equivalent
is more intelligible than a translation.[238] The _tsungtuh_ has rule
over two provinces, or else fills two high offices in one province,
while the _futai_ is placed over one province, either independent of or
in subordination to a _tsungtuh_, as enumerated in the table on page 61.
An examination of the _Red Book_ for 1852 showed that out of a total
of 20,327 names in it, 16,474 were Chinese, 3,295 were Manchus and
Mongols, and 558 enrolled Chinese; in the copy for 1844, out of
12,758 names, 10,463 were Chinese, 1,768 Manchus, and 527 enrolled
Chinese; these figures include only civilians and the employees in
Peking. The Eighteen Provinces have altogether less than two thousand
persons in office above the rank of assistant district magistrate,
viz.: 8 governor-generals, 15 governors, 19 treasurers, 18 judges, 17
chancellors, 15 commanders of the forces, including 2 admirals and
1,740 prefects and magistrates. All those filling the high grades in
this series report themselves to the Emperor twice every month, by
sending him a salutatory card upon yellow paper, enclosed in a silken
envelope; stating, for instance, that ‘Lin Tseh-sü, governor-general
of Liang Kwang, humbly presents his duty to the throne, wishing his
Majesty repose.’ The Emperor replies with the vermilion pencil, _Chin
ngan_, _i.e._, ‘Ourself is well.’
The duties of the governor-general consist in the collective control of
all affairs, civil and military, in the region under his jurisdiction;
he occupies, in his sphere, under correction, the same authority that
the Emperor does over the whole Empire. The _futai_ has a similar
control, but in an inferior degree when there is a _tsungtuh_, in
the more special supervision of the administrative part of the civil
government, as distinguished from the revenue, gabel, or literary
branches.
The departments of the civil government are five, viz.: administrative,
literary, gabel, commissariat, and excise; the first being also
divided into the territorial and financial and the judicial branches.
At the head of the first branch is the _pu-ching sz’_ (_i.e._,
regulating-government commissioner), who is usually called the
treasurer; the _ngan-chah sz’_, or ‘criminal judge,’ presides over
the second. These two officers often unite their deliberations in the
direction of any territorial or financial business, or the trial of
important cases. The literary department is placed under the direction
of an officer selected from among the members of the Hanlin Academy,
called a _hioh-ching_, director of learning, or literary chancellor;
there are seventeen of them altogether. The gabel and commissariat
are usually supervised by certain intermediate officers called _tao_,
or _taotai_, sometimes termed intendants of circuit, who have other
functions in addition. The excise, or commercial department, is under
_kientuh_, or superintendents, but the details of these three branches
vary considerably in different provinces. The officers of the excise,
either in the interior or on the coast, are made amenable to their
superiors in the province, but their functions are exercised in an
irregular manner; for the collection of the revenue is a difficult
affair, and mostly entrusted to the local magistrates.
The military government of a province includes both the land and sea
forces. It is under a _títuh_, or commander-in-chief, of which rank
there are in all sixteen, twelve of them commanding one arm alone,
and four controlling both land and sea forces. In five provinces the
_futai_ is commander-in-chief, and in Kansuh there are two. Above the
_títuh_, in point of rank but not of power, are placed garrisons of
Manchu Bannermen under a _tsiang-kiun_, or general, whose office is
conferred, and his actions directly controlled, by the captains-general
in Peking; he has jurisdiction, usually, only in the city itself, the
principal object of the appointment, apparently, being to check any
treasonable designs of the civil authorities.
The duties and relations of these various grades with one another
require some further explanation, however, to be understood. The three
officers, _tsungtuh_, _futai_, and _tsiangkiun_ (if there be one), form
a supreme council, and unite in deliberating upon a measure, calling in
the subordinate officer to whose department it particularly belongs,
and to whom its execution is to be committed, the whole forming a
deliberative board, though the responsibility of the act rests with
the two highest officers. By this means the various members of the
provincial government become better acquainted with each other’s
character and plans, though their intercourse is much restricted by
precedence and rivalry. In the provincial courts civilians always
take precedence of military officers; the governor-general and Banner
commander, governor and major-general, the literary chancellor and
collector of customs, rank with each other; then follow the treasurer,
the judge, and other civilians. The authority of the governor-general
extends to life and death, to the temporary appointment to all vacant
offices in the province, to ordering the troops to any part of it,
issuing such laws and taking such measures as are necessary for the
security and peace of the region committed to his care, or any other
steps he sees necessary. The _futai_ also has the power of life and
death, and attends to appeals of criminal cases; he oversees, moreover,
the conduct of the lower civilians.
Next in rank to the _pu-ching sz’_ and _ngan-chah sz’_, who always
reside in the provincial capital, are the intendants of circuit, who
are located in the circuits consisting of two or three prefectures
united for this purpose. They are deputies of the two highest
functionaries, and their delegated power often includes military as
well as civil authority, the chief object of their appointment being to
relieve and assist those high functionaries in the discharge of their
extensive duties. Some of the intendants are appointed to supervise
the proceedings of the prefects and district magistrates; others are
stationed at important posts to protect them, and those connected with
foreign trade at the open ports have no territorial jurisdiction.
~SUBORDINATE PROVINCIAL AUTHORITIES.~
Subordinate to the governors, through the intendants of circuits, are
the prefects or head magistrates of departments, called _chífu_,
_chíchau_, and _ting tungchí_, _i.e._, ‘knowers’ of them, according as
they are placed over _fu_, _chau_, or _ting_ departments. It is the
duty of these persons to make themselves acquainted with everything
that takes place within their jurisdiction, and they are held
responsible for the full execution of whatever orders are transmitted
to them, all presenting their reports and receiving their orders
through the intendants.
The practical efficiency of the Chinese government in promoting the
welfare of the people and preserving the peace depends chiefly upon
these officers. The people themselves are prone to quarrel and oppress
each other; beggars, robbers, tramps, and shysters stir up disorders in
various ways, and need wise and vigorous hands to repress and punish
them; while all classes avoid and resist the tax-gatherer as much as is
safe. The proverb, “A _chífu_ can exterminate a family, a _chíhien_ can
confiscate a patrimony,” indicates the popular fear of their power.
The subdivisional parts of departments, called _ting_, _chau_, and
_hien_, have each their separate officers, who report to the _chífu_
and _chíchau_ above them; these are called _tungchí_, _chíchau_, and
_chíhien_, and may all be denominated district magistrates. The parts
of districts called _sz’_ are placed under the control of _siunkien_,
circuit-restrainers, or hundreders, who form the last in the regular
series of descending rank--the last of the “commissioned officers,”
as they might not improperly be called. The prefects sometimes have
deputies directly under them, as the governor has his intendants, when
their jurisdiction is very large or important, who are called _kiunmin
fu_ and _tungchí_, _i.e._, ‘joint-knowers.’ The deputies of district
magistrates are termed _chautung_ and _chaupwan_ for the _chíchau_, and
_hienching_ and _chufu_ for the _chíhien_; the last also have others
called _tso-tang_ and _yu-tang_, _i.e._, left-tenants and right-tenants.
Besides these assistants there are others, both in the departments
and districts, having the oversight of the police, collection of the
taxes and management of the revenue, care of water-ways, and many
other subdivisions of legislative duties, which it is unnecessary to
particularize. They are appointed whenever and wherever the territory
is so large and the duties so onerous that one man cannot attend to
all, or it is not safe to entrust him with them. They have nearly as
much power as their superiors in the department entrusted to them, but
none of them have judicial or legislative functions, and the routine
of their offices affords them less scope for oppression. Nor is it
worth while to notice the great number of clerks, registrars, and
secretaries found in connection with the various ranks of dignitaries
here mentioned, or the multitude of petty subordinates found in the
provinces and placed over particular places or duties as necessity may
require. Their number is very large, and the responsibility of their
proceedings devolves upon the higher officers who receive their reports
and direct their actions.
The common people suffer more from these “rats under the altar,” as a
Chinese proverb calls them, than from their superiors, because, unlike
them, they are usually natives of the place and better acquainted
with the condition of the inhabitants, and are not so often removed.
The fear of getting into their clutches restrains from evil doings
perhaps more than all punishments, though the people soon complain
of high-handed acts in a way not to be disregarded. One saying,
“Underlings see money as a fly sees blood,” indicates their penchant,
as another, “Cash drops into an underling’s paw as a sheep falls into
a tiger’s jaw,” does the popular notion how to please them. Each
intendant, prefect, and district magistrate has special secretaries
in his office for filing papers, writing and transmitting despatches,
investigating cases, recording evidence, keeping accounts, and
performing other functions. All above the _chíhien_ are allowed to keep
private secretaries, called _sz’ ye_, who are usually personal friends,
and accompany the officers wherever they go for the purpose of advising
them and preparing their official documents. The _ngan-chah sz’_ have
jailers under their control, as have also the more important prefects.
~LITERARY, GABEL, AND REVENUE DEPARTMENTS.~
The appointment of officers being theoretically founded on literary
merit, those to whom is committed the supervision of students and
conferment of degrees would naturally be of a high grade. The
_hioh-ching_, or literary chancellor, of the province, therefore ranks
next to the governor, more, however, because he is specially appointed
by his Majesty and oversees this branch of the government, than
from the power committed to his hands. Under him are head-teachers
of different degrees of authority, residing in the chief towns
of departments and districts, the whole forming a similar series
of functionaries to what exists in the civil department. These
subordinates have merely a greater or less degree of supervision over
the studies of students, and the colleges established for the promotion
of learning in the chief towns of departments. The business of
conferring the lower degrees appertains exclusively to the chancellor,
who makes an annual circuit through the province for that purpose, and
holds examinations in the chief town of each department, to which all
students residing within its limits can come.
The gabel, or salt department, is under the control of a special
officer, called a “commissioner for the transport of salt,” and
forming in the five maritime provinces one of the _san sz’_, or three
commissioners, of which the _pu-ching sz’_ and _ngan-chah sz’_ are
the other two. There are, above these commissioners, eight directors
of the salt monopoly, stationed at the dépôts in Chihlí and Shantung,
who, however, also fill other offices, and have rather a nominal
responsibility over the lower commissioners. The number and rank of the
officers connected with the salt monopoly show its importance, and is
proof of how large a revenue is derived from an article which will bear
such an expensive establishment. At present its administration costs
about as much as its receipts.
The commissariat and revenue department is unusually large in China
compared with other countries, for the plan of collecting any part
of the revenue in kind necessarily requires numerous vehicles for
transporting and buildings for storing it, which still further
multiplies the number of clerks and hands employed. The transportation
of grain along the Yangtsz’ River is under the control of a _tsungtuh_,
who also oversees the disposal and directs the collectors of it in
eight of the provinces adjacent to this river. The office of _liang-chu
tao_, or commissioner to collect grain, is found in twelve provinces,
the _pu-ching sz’_ attending to this duty in six; the supervision of
the subordinate agents of this department in the several districts is
in the hands of the prefects and district magistrates. That feature of
the Chinese system which makes officers mutually responsible, seems
to lead the superior powers to confer such various duties upon one
functionary, in order that he may thus have a general knowledge of what
is going on about and under him, and report what he deems amiss. It is
not, indeed, likely that such was the original arrangement, for the
Chinese government has come to its present composition by slow degrees;
but such is, so far as can be seen, the effect of it, and it serves in
no little degree to accomplish the designs of the rulers to bind the
main and lesser wheels of the huge machine to themselves and to one
another.
The customs and excise are under the management of different grades of
officers according to the importance of their posts. The transit duties
levied at the excise stations placed in every town are collected by
officers acting under the local authorities, and have nothing to do
with the collection of maritime duties. This tax, called _li-kin_, or
‘a cash a catty,’ has lately been greatly increased, and the natural
result has been to destroy the trade it preyed on, or divert it to
other channels. The foreign merchants and officers have, too, protested
against its imposition, seeing that their trade was checked.
Recapitulating in tabular form, we may say that outside of the Cabinet,
Council, Boards, and Courts at the capital, the government (in the
Eighteen Provinces) is in the hands of:
8 Governors-General (6 governing two provinces each).
15 Governors.
19 Commissioners of Finance (2 for Kiangsu).
18 Commissioners of Justice.
4 Directors of the Salt Gabel.
9 Collectors (independent of these).
13 Commissioners of Grain, or Commissaries.
64 Intendants of Circuit.
182 Prefects.
68 Prefects of Inferior Departments.
18 Independent Subprefects.
180 Dependent Subprefects.
139 Deputy Subprefects.
141 District Magistrates of the Fifth Class.
1,232 District Magistrates of the Seventh Class.
~MILITARY AND NAVAL DEPARTMENTS.~
The military section of the provincial governments is under the control
of a _títuh_, or major-general, who resides at a central post, and,
in conjunction with the governor-general and governor, directs the
movements of the forces, while these last have also an independent
control over a certain body of troops belonging to them officially.
The various grades of officers in the native army, and the portion of
troops under each of them, stationed in the garrisons and forts in
different parts of the provinces, are all arranged in a methodical
manner, which will bear examination and comparison with the army of any
country in the world. The native force in each province is distinct
from the Manchu troops, and is divided somewhat according to the Roman
plan of legion, cohort, maniple, and century, over each of which are
officers, from colonel down to sergeant. Nothing is wanting to the
Chinese army to make it fully adequate to the defence of the country
but discipline and confidence in itself; for lack of practice and
systematic drilling have made it an army of paper warriors against a
resolute enemy. Nevertheless, the recent campaigns against the rebels
in the extreme western colonies indicate the fact that its regeneration
is already of some weight. On the other hand, it has no doubt been for
the good of the Chinese people and government--the advance of the first
in wealth, numbers, and security, and the consolidation and efficiency
of the latter--that they have cultivated letters rather than arms,
peace more than war.
All the general officers in the army have fixed places of residence,
at which the larger portion of their respective brigades remain, while
detachments are stationed at various points within their command.
The governor, major-general, and Banner commandant have commands
independent of each other, but the _títuh_, or major-general, exercises
the principal military sway. The naval officers have the same names
as those in the army, and the two are interchanged and promoted from
one service to the other. Admirals and vice-admirals usually reside on
shore, and despatch their subordinates in squadrons or single vessels
wherever occasion requires. This system must, ere long, give place to a
better division of the two arms with the building of steam vessels and
management of arsenals, when junks are superseded.
The system of mutually checking the provincial officers is also
exhibited in their location. For example, in the city of Canton the
governor-general is stationed in the New city near the collector of
customs, while the lieutenant-governor and Manchu general are so
located in the Old city that should circumstances require they can act
against the two first. The governor has the general command of all
the provincial troops, estimated to be one hundred thousand men, but
the particular command of only five thousand, and they are stationed
fifty miles off, at Shauking fu. The _tsiang kiun_ has five thousand
men under him in the Old city, which, in an extreme case, would make
him master of the capital, while his own allegiance is secured by
the antipathy between the Manchus and Chinese preventing him from
combining with the latter. Again, the governor-general has the power
of condemning certain criminals to death, but the _wang-ming_, or
death-warrant, is lodged with the _futai_, and the order for execution
must be countersigned by him; his despatches to court must be also
countersigned by his coadjutor. The general absence of resistance to
the imperial sway on the part of these high officers during the two
centuries of Manchu rule, when compared with the multiplied intrigues
and rebellions of the pashas in the Turkish Empire, proves how well the
system is concocted.
~TRAVELLING DEPUTIES AND COMMISSIONERS.~
In order to enable the superior officers to exercise greater
vigilance over their inferiors, they have the privilege of sending
special messengers, invested with full power, to every part of
their jurisdiction. The Emperor himself never visits the provinces
judicially, nor has an Emperor been south of the capital during the
present century; he therefore constantly sends commissioners or
legates, called _kinchai_, to all parts of the Empire, ostensibly
entrusted with the management of a particular business, but required
also to take a general surveillance of what is going on. The ancient
Persians had a similar system of commissioners, who were called the
eyes and ears of the prince, and made the circuit of the empire to
oversee all that was done. There are many points of resemblance between
the structure of these two ancient monarchies, the body of councillors
who assisted the prince in his deliberations, the presidents over the
provinces, the satraps, etc.; but the Persians had not the elements of
perpetuity which the system of common schools and official examinations
give to the Chinese government.[239]
Governors in like manner send their deputies and agents, called
_weiyuen_, over the province; and even the prefects and intendants
despatch their messengers. All these functionaries, during the time of
their mission, take rank with the highest officers according to the
quality of their employers; but the imperial commissioners, who for
one object or another are constantly passing and repassing through the
Empire in every direction, exercise great influence in the government,
and are powerful agents in the hands of the Emperor for keeping his
proconsuls at their duty.
FOOTNOTES:
[217] 2357 and 2255 before Christ.
[218] _Penal Code_, Introduction, p. xxviii.
[219] Vol. XVI., 1810.
[220] _Chinese Repository_, Vol. IV., pp. 24-29.
[221] _Chinese Repository_, Vol. IV., p. 12; _Chinese Chrestomathy_, p.
558.
[222] The attributes ascribed to a _chakrawartti_ in the Buddhist
mythology have many points of resemblance to the _hwangtí_, and Hardy’s
_Manual of Buddhism_ (p. 126) furnishes an instructive comparison
between the two characters, one fanciful and the other real.
[223] The remark of Heeren (_Asiatic Nations_, Vol. I., p. 57), that
the names by which the early Persian monarchs, Darius, Xerxes, and
others, were called, were really titles or surnames, and not their
own personal names, suggests the further comparison whether those
renowned names were not like the _kwoh hao_ of the Chinese emperors,
whose adoption of the custom was after the extinction of the Persian
monarchy. Herodotus (Book VI., 98) seems to have been familiar with
these names, not so much as being arbitrary and meaningless terms as
epithets whose significations were associated with the kings. The new
names given to the last two sons of Josiah, who became kings of Judah
by their conquerors (2 Kings, 23: 34, and 24: 17), indicate even an
earlier adoption of this custom.
[224] _Chinese Repository_, Vol. X., pp. 87-98. _Indo-Chinese Gleaner_,
February, 1821.
[225] Staunton’s _Embassy_, 8vo edition, London, 1797, Vol. III., p. 63.
[226] _Chinese Repository_, Vol. XIV., p. 521; _N. C. Br. R. As. Soc.
Journal_, No. XI.
[227] _Chinese Repository_, Vol. IV., p. 576.
[228] _Missionary Chronicle_, Vol. XIV., p. 324; Hardy, _Manual of
Buddhism_, p. 69; Heeren, _Asiatic Nations_, Vol. I., p. 246.
[229] M. Ed. Biot furnished a good account to the _Journal Asiatique_
(3d series, Vol. III.) of the legal condition of slaves in China;
see also _Chinese Repository_, Vol. XVIII., pp. 347-363, and passim;
Archdeacon Gray’s _China_.
[230] _Chinese Chrestomathy_, Chap. XVII., Sec. 4, p. 570.
[231] A still more common designation for officers of every rank in
the employ of the Chinese government has not so good a parentage;
this is the word _mandarin_, derived from the Portuguese _mandar_, to
command, and indiscriminately applied by foreigners to every grade,
from a premier to a tide-waiter; it is not needed in English as a
general term for officers, and ought to be disused, moreover, from its
tendency to convey the impression that they are in some way unlike
similar officials in other lands. Compare _Notes and Queries on China
and Japan_, Vol. III., p. 12.
[232] _Chinese Repository_, Vol. IV., p. 138. _Chinese Chrestomathy_,
p. 573.
[233] _Fraser’s Magazine_, February, 1873. _China Review_, Vol. III.,
p. 13. _Note on the Condition and Government of the Chinese Empire in
1849._ By T. F. Wade. Hongkong, 1850. Translations of several years of
the _Gazette_ have appeared since 1872, reprinted from the columns of
the _North China Herald_.
[234] _Essai sur l’Instruction en Chine_, pp. 540-589.
[235] _Chinese Repository_, Vol. IV., pp. 188, 276-287; Vol. V., pp.
165-178; Vol. XX., pp. 250, 300, and 363. _Mémoires concernant les
Chinois, par les Missionaires à Pekin_, Tomes VII. and VIII., passim.
[236] Compare an article by E. C. Taintor, in _Notes and Queries on
China and Japan_. _Chinese Repository_, Vols. IV., pp. 148, 164, and
177, and XII., pp. 32 and 67.
[237] Dr. W. A. P. Martin, _The Chinese_.
[238] Mayers’ _Manual of Chinese Titles_ furnishes the best compend for
learning their duties and names.
[239] Rollin’s _Ancient History_, Chap. IV. _Manners of the Assyrians._
Heeren’s _Asiatic Researches_, Vol. I., Chap. II.
CHAPTER VIII.
ADMINISTRATION OF THE LAWS.
~CHECKS PLACED UPON OFFICE-HOLDERS.~
The preceding chapter contains a general view of the plan upon which
the central and provincial governments of the Empire are constructed;
and if an examination of the conduct of officers in every department
shows their extortion, cruelty, and venality, it will not, in the
opinion of the liberal-minded reader, detract from the general
excellence of the theory of the government, and the sagacity exhibited
in the system of checks designed to restrain the various parts from
interfering with the well-being of the whole. In addition to the
division of power and the restrictions upon Chinese officers already
mentioned, there are other means adopted in their location and
alternation to prevent combination and resistance against the head of
the state. One of them is the law forbidding a man to hold any civil
office in his native province, which, besides stopping all intrigue
where it would best succeed, has the further effect of congregating
aspirants for office at Peking, where they come in hope of obtaining
some post, or of succeeding in the examination for the highest literary
degrees. The central government could not contrive a better plan for
bringing all the ambitious and talented men in the country under its
observation before appointing them to clerkships in the capital, or
scattering them in the provinces.
Moreover, no officer is allowed to marry in the jurisdiction under
his control, nor own land in it, nor have a son, brother, or near
relative holding office under him; and he is seldom continued in the
same station or province for more than three or four years. Manchus
and Chinese are mingled together in high stations, and obligations
are imposed on certain grandees to inform the Emperor of each other’s
acts. Members of the imperial clan are required to attend the meetings
of the Boards at the capital, and observe and report what they deem
amiss or of interest to the Emperor and his council; while in all
the upper departments of the general and provincial governments, a
system of espionage is carried out, detrimental to all principles of
honorable fidelity, such as we look for in officials, but not without
some good effects in a weak despotism like China. There is, besides
this constant surveillance, a triennial catalogue made out of the
merits and demerits of all officers in the Empire, which is submitted
to imperial inspection by the Board of Civil Office. In order to
collect the details for this catalogue, it is incumbent upon every
provincial officer to report upon the character and qualifications
of those under him, and the list, when made out, is forwarded by the
governor to the capital. The points of character are arranged under six
different heads, viz.: those who are not diligent, the inefficient,
the superficial, the untalented, superannuated, and diseased.
According to the opinion given in this report, officers are elevated
or degraded so many steps in the scale of merit, like school-boys in
a class, and whenever they issue an edict are required to state how
many steps they have been advanced or degraded, and how many times
recorded. Officers are required to accuse themselves, when guilty of
crime, either in their own conduct or that of their subordinates, and
request punishment. The results of this peculiar and patriarchal mode
of teaching officers their duty will be best exhibited by quoting from
a rescript of Taukwang’s, issued in February, 1837, after one of the
catalogues had been submitted to his Majesty.
“The cabinet minister Changling has strenuously exerted himself
during a long lapse of years; he has reached the eightieth
year of his age, yet his energies are still in full force. His
colleagues Pwan Shí-ngăn and Muchangah, as well as the assistant
cabinet minister Wang Ting, have invariably displayed diligence
and attention, and have not failed in yielding us assistance.
Tang Kin-chau, president of the Board of Office, has knowledge
and attainments of a respectable and sterling character, and has
shown himself public-spirited and intelligent in the performance of
special duties assigned to him. Shí Chí-yen, president of the Board
of Punishments, retains his usual strength and energies, and in
the performance of his judicial duties has displayed perspicacity
and circumspection. The assistant cabinet minister and governor of
Chihlí province, Kíshen, transacts the affairs of his government
with faithfulness, and the military force under his control is well
disciplined. Husungé, the governor of Shensí and Kansuh provinces, is
cautious and prudent, and performs his duties with careful exactness.
Ílípu, governor of Yunnan and Kweichau, is well versed in the affairs
of his frontier government, and has fully succeeded in preserving it
free from disturbance. Linking, who is entrusted with the general
charge of the rivers in Kiangnan, has not failed in his care of the
embankments, and has preserved the surrounding districts from all
disquietude. To show our favor unto all these, let the Board of
Office determine on appropriate marks of distinction for them.
“Kweisan, subordinate minister of the Cabinet, is hasty and
deficient, both in precision and capacity; he is incapable of moving
and acting for himself; let him take an inferior station, and
receive an appointment in the second class of the guards. Yihtsih,
vice-president of the Board of Works for Mukden, possesses but
ordinary talents, and is incompetent to the duties of his present
office; let him also take an inferior station, and be appointed to a
place in the first class of guards. Narkingé, the governor-general of
Hukwang, though having under him the whole civil and military bodies
of two provinces, has yet been unable, these many days, to seize a
few beggarly impish vagabonds: after having in the first instance
failed in prevention, he has followed up that failure by idleness and
remissness, and has fully proved himself inefficient. Let him take
the lower station of governor in Hunan, and within one year let him,
by the apprehension of Lan Ching-tsun, show that he is aroused to
greater exertions.
“Let all our other servants retain their present appointments. Among
them Tau Shu, the governor of Kiangnan and Kiangsí, is bold and
determined in the transaction of affairs, but has not yet attained
enlarged views in regard to the salt department; Chung Tsiang, the
governor of Fuhkien and Chehkiang, finds his energies failing; Tăng
Ting-ching, the governor of Kwangtung and Kwangsí, possesses barely
an adequate degree of talent and knowledge; and Shin Kí-hien, though
faithful and earnest in the performance of his duties, has, in common
with these others, been not very long in office.
“That all ministers will act with purity and devotedness of purpose,
with public spirit and diligence, is our most fervent hope. A special
edict.”[240]
The effect of such confessions and examination of character is to
restrain the commission of outrageous acts of oppression; it is still
further enforced by the privilege, common alike to censors and private
subjects, of complaining to the Emperor of misdeeds done to them by
persons in authority. Fear for their own security has suggested this
multiplicity of checks, but the Emperor and his ministry have no doubt
thereby impeded the efficiency of their subordinates, and compelled
them to attend so much to their own standing that they care far less
than they otherwise would for the prosperity of the people.
~CHARACTER OF CHINESE OFFICIALS.~
The position of an officer in the Chinese government can hardly be
ascertained from the enumeration of his duties, nor can we easily
appreciate, from a general account of the system, his temptations to
oppress inferiors and deceive superiors. His duties, as indicated in
the code, are so minute, and often so contradictory, as to make it
impossible to fulfil them strictly; it is found, accordingly, that
few or none have ascended the slippery heights of promotion without
frequent relapses. Degradation, when to a step or two and temporary,
carries with it of course no moral taint in a country where the award
for bribery is graduated to the amount received, without any reference
to moral violation; where the bamboo is the standard of punishment as
well for error in judgment or remissness as for crime--only commuted to
a fine in honor of official rank; where, as a distinction in favor of
the imperial race, the bamboo is softened to the whip and banishment
mitigated to the pillory.[241] The highest officers have of course
the greatest opportunity to oppress, but their extortions are limited
by the venality and mendacity of the agents they are compelled to
employ. Inferiors also can carry on a system of exactions if they keep
on the right side of those above them. The whole class form a body of
men mutually jealous of each other’s advance, where every incumbent
endeavors to supplant his associate; they all agree in regarding the
people as the source of their profits, the sponge which all must
squeeze, but differ in the degree to which they should carry on the
same plan with each other. Although sprung from the mass of the people,
the welfare of the community has little place in their thoughts. Their
life is spent in ambitious efforts to rise upon the fall of others,
though they do not lose all sense of character or become reckless of
the means of advance, for this would destroy their chance of success.
The game they play with each other and their imperial master is,
however, a harmless one compared with what was done in old Rome or
in Europe four or five centuries ago, or even lately among the pashas
and viziers of the sultans and shahs in Western Asia. To the honor of
the Chinese, life is seldom sacrificed for political crime or envious
emulation; no officer dreads a bowstring or a poisoned cup from his
lord paramount, nor is he on the watch against the dagger of an
assassin hired by a vindictive competitor. Whatever heights of favor
or depths of umbrage he may experience, the servant of the Emperor of
China need not, in unproved cases of delinquency, fear for his life;
but he not unfrequently takes it himself from conscious guilt and dread
of just punishment.
The names and standing of all officers are published quarterly by
permission of government in the _Red Book_ (which by an unusual
coincidence is bound in red), called the “Complete Record of the Girdle
Wearers” (_Tsin Shin Tsiuen Shu_), comprised in four volumes, 12mo, to
which are added two others of the Army and Bannermen. This publication
was first issued at the command of Wanlih, of the Ming dynasty, about
1580, and mentions the native province of each person, whether Chinese,
Manchu, Mongol, or enrolled Chinese, describes the title of the office,
its salary, and gives much general information. The publishers of the
book expect that officers will inform them of the changes that take
place in their standing, and sometimes omit to mention those who do not
thus report themselves.
~CAREER OF DUKE HO.~
A memoir of the public life of a high officer in China would present a
singular picture of ups and downs, but, on account of their notorious
disregard of truth, Chinese documents are unsafe to trust entirely
in drawing such a sketch. One of the most conspicuous men in late
times was Duke Ho, the premier in the time of Macartney’s embassy,
who for many years exercised a greater control over the counsels of a
Chinese sovereign than is recorded of any other man during the present
dynasty. This man was originally a private person, who attracted the
notice of the Emperor by his comeliness, and secured it by his zeal in
discharging the offices entrusted to him. With but few interruptions he
gradually mounted the ladder of promotion, and for some years before
Kienlung’s death, when the latter’s energies had begun to fail from
age, was virtual master of the country. Staunton describes him as
possessing eminent abilities; “the manners of Hokwăn were not less
pleasing than his understanding was penetrating and acute. He seemed
indeed to possess the qualities of a perfect statesman.”[242] The
favorite had gradually filled the highest posts with his friends,
and his well-wishers were so numerous in the general and provincial
governments that some began to apprehend a rising in his favor when the
Emperor died. Kiaking, on coming to the throne, began to take those
cautious measures for his removal which showed the great influence he
possessed; one of these proceedings was to appoint him superintendent
of the rites of mourning, in order, probably, that his official duties
might bring him often to the palace. After four years the Emperor
drew up sixteen articles of impeachment, most of them frivolous and
vexatious, though of more consequence in the eyes of a Chinese prince
than they would have been at other courts. One article alleged that he
had ridden on horseback up to the palace gate; another, that he had
appropriated to his own household the females educated for the imperial
harem; a third, that he had detained the reports of officers in time
of war from coming to the Emperor’s eye, and had appointed his own
retainers to office, when they were notoriously incompetent; a fourth,
that he had built many apartments of _nan-muh_, a kind of laurel-wood
exclusively appropriated to royalty, and imitated regal style in his
grounds and establishment; a fifth, that “on the day previous to our
Royal Father’s announcement of our election as his successor, Hokwăn
waited upon us and presented the insignia of the newly conferred
rank--thereby betraying an important secret of state, in hopes of
obtaining our favor.” He was also accused of having pearls and jewels
of larger size than those even in the Emperor’s regalia. But so far
as can be inferred from what was published, this Cardinal Wolsey of
China was, comparatively speaking, not cruel in the exercise of his
power, and the real cause of his fall was evidently his riches. In the
schedule of his confiscated property it was mentioned that besides
houses, lands, and other immovable property to an amazing extent, not
less than one hundred and five millions of dollars in bullion and
gems were found in his treasury. A special tribunal was instituted for
his trial, and he was allowed to become his own executioner, while
his constant associate was beheaded. These were the only deaths, the
remainder of his relatives and dependents being simply removed and
degraded. His power was no doubt too great for the safety of his master
if he had proved faithless; but his wealth was too vast for his own
security, even had he been innocent. The Emperor, in the edict which
contains the sentence, cites as a precedent for his own acts similar
condemnation of premiers by three of his ancestors in the present
dynasty, but nothing definite is known of their crimes or trials.[243]
Taukwang was more clement, or more fortunate than his father, and upon
coming to the throne continued Tohtsin in power; this statesman had
held the premiership from 1815 to 1832, with but few interruptions,
when he was allowed to retire at the age of seventy-five. He had served
under three emperors, having risen step by step from the situation of
clerk in one of the offices. His successor, Changling, experienced a
far more checkered course, but remained in favor at last, and retired
from the premiership in 1836, aged about seventy-nine. He became very
popular with his master from his ability in quelling the insurrection
of Jehangír in Turkestan in 1827. Even a few such instances of the
honor in which an upright, energetic, and wise minister is regarded by
prince and people have great influence in encouraging young men to act
in the same way.
~LIFE AND CHARACTER OF MINISTER SUNG.~
Few Chinese statesmen have been oftener brought into the notice of
western foreigners than Sung, one of the commissioners attached to Lord
Macartney’s embassy, and a favorite of all its members. His lordship
speaks of him then as a young man of high quality, possessing an
elevated mind; and adds that “during the whole time of our connection
with him he has on all occasions conducted himself toward us in the
most friendly and gentleman-like manner.” This was in 1793. In 1817
he is mentioned as one of the Cabinet; but not long after, for some
unknown reason, he was degraded by Kiaking to the sixth rank, and
appointed adjutant-general among the Tsakhar Mongols; from thence
he memorialized his master respecting the ill conduct of some lamas,
who had been robbing and murdering. Sung and his friends opposed the
Emperor’s going to Manchuria, and were involved in some trouble on
this account, the reasons of which it is difficult to understand.
He was promoted, however, to be captain-general of Manchuria, but
again fell under censure, and on his visit to his paternal estate at
Mukden the Emperor took him back to the capital and appointed him to
some important office. He soon got into new trouble with the Emperor,
who in a proclamation remarks that “Sung is inadequate to the duties
of minister of the imperial presence; because, although he formerly
officiated as such, he is now upward of seventy years of age, and
rides badly on horseback;” he is therefore sent to Manchuria to fill
his old office of captain-general. The next year the ex-minister and
his adherents were involved in a long trial about the loss of a seal,
and he was deprived of his command and directed to retire to his own
Banner; the real reasons of this disgrace were probably connected with
the change of parties ensuent upon the accession of Taukwang.
Soon afterward Sung was restored to favor and made adjutant at Jeh
ho, after having been president of the Censorate for a month. He was
allowed to remain there longer than usual, and employed his spare time
in writing a book upon the newly acquired territory in Turkestan. In
1824 he was reinstated as president of the Censorate, with admonitions
not to confuse and puzzle himself with a multiplicity of extraneous
matters. In 1826 he was sent on a special commission to Shansí, and
when he returned was honored with a dinner at court on new year’s day.
He then appears as travelling tutor to the crown-prince, but where his
royal highness went for his education does not appear; from this post
we find him made president of the Board of Rites, and appointed to
inspect the victims for a state sacrifice. He is then ordered to Jeh
ho, from whence, in a fit of penitence, or perhaps from fear of a dun,
he memorialized the Emperor about a debt of $52,000 he had incurred
nearly thirty years before, which he proposed to liquidate by foregoing
his salary of $1,000 until the arrears were paid up; the Emperor was in
good humor with the old man, and forgave him the whole amount, being
assured, he says, of Sung’s pure official character. In this memorial,
when recounting his services, the aged officer says that he has been
twice commander-in-chief and governor of Ílí, governor-general at
Nanking, Canton, etc., but had never saved much.
Shortly after this he is recalled from Jeh ho and made _tí-tuh_ of
Peking, then president of the Board of War; and in a few months he
is ordered to proceed across the desert to Cobdo to investigate some
affair of importance--a long and toilsome journey of fifteen hundred
miles for a man over seventy-five years old. He returned the next
year and resumed his post as president of the Board of War, in which
capacity he acted as examiner of the students in the Russian College.
In 1831 he was made president of the Colonial Office, and later
received an appointment as superintendent of the Three Treasuries,
but was obliged to resign from ill health. A month’s relaxation seems
to have wonderfully restored him, for the Emperor, in reply to his
petition for employment, expresses surprise that he should so soon be
fit for official duties, and plainly intimates his opinion that the
disease was all sham, though he accedes to his request so far as to
nominate him commander of one of the eight Banners. In 1832 Sung again
became involved in intrigues, and was reduced to the third degree
of rank; the resignation of Tohtsin and the struggle for the vacant
premiership was probably the real reason of this new reverse, though a
frivolous accusation of two years’ standing was trumped up against him.
He was restored again, after a few months’ disgrace, at the petition
of a beg of a city in Turkestan, which illustrates, by the way, the
influence which those princes exert. Old age now began to come upon the
courtier in good earnest, and in 1833 he was ordered to retire with
the rank and pay of adjutant, which he lived to enjoy only two years.
Much of the success of Sung was said to be owing to his having had a
daughter in the harem, but his personal character and kindness were
evidently the main sources of his enduring influence among all ranks
of people and officers; one account says the Manchus almost worshipped
him, and beggars clung to his chair in the streets to ask alms. It
is worthy of notice that in all his reverses there is no mention made
of any severer punishment than degradation or banishment, and in this
particular the political life of Sung is probably a fair criterion of
the usual fortune of high Chinese statesmen. The leading events in
the life of Changling, the successor of Tohtsin, together with a few
notices of the governor of Canton in 1833, Lí Hung-pin, are given in
the _Repository_.[244]
~NOTICE OF COMMISSIONER LIN.~
Commissioners Lin and Kíying became more famous among foreigners
than their compeers in the capital, from the parts they acted in the
war with England in 1840, but only a few notices of their lives are
accessible. Lin Tseh-sü was born in 1785, in Fuhchau, and passed
through the literary examinations, becoming a graduate of the second
rank at the age of nineteen, and of the third when twenty-six. After
filling an office or two in the Imperial Academy, he was sent as
assistant literary examiner to Kiangsí in 1816, and during three
subsequent years acted as examiner and censor in various places. In
1819 he filled the office of intendant of circuit, in Chehkiang; and
after absence on account of health, he was, in 1823, appointed to
the post of treasurer of Kiangsu, in the absence of the incumbent.
In 1826 he was made overseer of the Yellow River, but hearing of his
mother’s death, resigned his office to mourn for her. After the period
of mourning was finished he went to Peking and received the office
of judge in Shensí; but before he had been in it a month he was made
treasurer of Kiangsu, and before he could enter upon this new office
he heard of his father’s death, and was obliged to resign once more.
In 1832 he was nominated treasurer in Hupeh, and five months later
transferred to the same office in Honan, and six months after that
sent to Kiangsu again. Three months after this third transfer he was
reinstated overseer of the Yellow River, and within a short time
elevated to be governor of Kiangsí, which he retained three years, and
acted as governor-general of Liang Kiang two years more. In 1838 he was
made governor-general of Hu Kwang; and shortly after this ordered to
come to Peking to be admitted to an imperial audience, and by special
favor permitted to ride on horseback within the palace.
He was at this audience appointed imperial commissioner to put down
the opium trade and manage the affairs of the maritime frontier of
Kwantung, receiving at the time such plenipotentiary powers to act
for the Emperor as had only once before been committed to a subject
since 1644, viz., when Changling was sent to Turkestan to quell the
insurrection. Lin’s ill success in dealing with the opium trade and
its upholders in the British government reflect no discredit on his
own ability, for the task was beyond the powers of the Empire; but his
fame even now stands high among the Cantonese. One incident showing his
kindness to the crew of the Sunda, an English vessel lost on Hainan
Island, on their arrival in Canton in October, 1839, while he was
fighting their consular officers, gave a good insight into the candor
of the man. In December, 1839, he was appointed governor-general of
Liang Kiang; but succeeded to that of Liang Kwang in February, 1840. In
October of the same year the seals of office were taken away, and he
was ordered to return to Peking. He remained, however, till May of the
next year to advise with Kíshen in his difficult negotiations with the
English. Lin left Canton in May, 1841, leading two thousand troops to
defend Ningpo, but this rôle was not his forte. In July, 1842, he was
banished to Ílí, but the sentence was suspended for a season by giving
him a third time the oversight of the Yellow River. However, in 1844 we
find him in Ílí, holding an inferior appointment and trying to bring
waste lands near the Mohammedan cities under cultivation; his zeal was
rewarded the next year by a pardon, and the year after that by the high
post of governor-general of Shensí and Kansuh, in which region he set
himself to work to reform the civil service and increase the revenue.
In 1847 the cares of office wore upon him, so that he asked for a
furlough and went back to Fuhchau, aged sixty-two. His ambition was not
yet satisfied, for he was made governor-general in Yunnan in 1848, but
his strength was not equal to its duties, and he again retired in 1849.
The young Emperor Hienfung, startled at the rapid rise of the Tai-ping
rebels, applied to the aged statesman to help him as he had his father.
Lin responded to the call of his sovereign, but death came upon him
before he reached Kwangsí, on the 22d of November, 1850, at the age
of sixty-seven. More enduring than some of his official acts was the
preparation and publication of the _History of Maritime Nations_, with
maps, in fifty books, in which he gave his countrymen all the details
he could gather of other nations.[245]
~CAREER OF COMMISSIONER KÍYING.~
Much less is known of the official life of Kíying than of Lin, but the
Manchu proved himself superior to the Chinese in trimming his course
to meet the inevitable and avoid the rocks his predecessor struck.
In 1835 his name is mentioned as president of the Board of Revenue
and controller of the Tsung-jin fu. He was detained at the capital as
commander-in-chief of the forces there until 1842, when his Majesty
sent him to Canton to take the place of Yihshan. He was ordered to stop
at Hangchau, however, on his way, and make a report of the condition
of affairs; his memorials seem to have had great influence, for he was
appointed joint commissioner with Ílípu in April of that year. At the
negotiations of Nanking Kíying acted as chief commissioner, and was
mainly instrumental in bringing the war to a conclusion. He proceeded
to Canton in May, 1843, to succeed Ílípu, and there acted as sole
commissioner in negotiating the supplementary treaty and the commercial
regulations with the British, returning to the capital in December,
1843. His prudence and vigor had great effect in calming the irritation
of the people of Canton. On the arrival of the American plenipotentiary
he was vested with full powers to treat with Mr. Cushing, and soon
after with the French and Swedish envoys, with all of whom he signed
treaties. During the progress of these negotiations Kí Kung died and
Kíying succeeded him.
His administration as governor-general continued till January, 1848,
when he returned to Peking to receive higher honors from the Emperor.
In 1849 he went to Kiangsu to inquire into the salt department, and
then to Northern Shansí to settle differences with the Mongols. From
this period he held various posts in the cabinet and capital, busy in
all court intrigues, and rather losing his good name, till he fell into
disgrace. In 1856, when the envoys of the four western Powers were at
Tientsin, he entered into some underhand dealings against the policy
of Kweiliang and Hwashana, and was sent there as joint commissioner.
He had hardly entered upon his functions by the presentation of his
commission, when he suddenly returned to Peking against the Emperor’s
will, and was ordered to take poison in the presence of the head of
the Clan to avoid the ignominy of a public execution.[246] Few Chinese
statesmen in modern times have borne a higher character for prudence,
dignity, and intelligence than Kíying, and the confidence reposed
in him is creditable to his imperial master. In his demeanor, says
Sir Thomas Wade, “there was a combination of dignity and courtesy
which more than balanced the deficiencies of a by no means attractive
exterior.” The portrait of him has been engraved from a native painting
made at Canton, and is a good one. It was kindly furnished for this
work by J. R. Peters, Jr.
~AGED STATESMEN RETAINED IN OFFICE.~
The facts of this man’s career are not all known, but his connection
by birth with the Clan brought him into an entirely different set of
influences from Lin, while his training removed him from the contact
with the people which made the other so popular and influential. Both
of them were good instances of Chinese statesmen, and their checkered
lives as here briefly noticed resemble that of their compeers in the
highest grades of official dignity. The sifting which the personnel of
the Emperor’s employees in all their various grades receive generally
brings the cleverest and most trustworthy to the top; no one can come
in contact with them in state affairs without an increase of respect
for their shrewdness, loyalty, and skill. One observable feature of
the Chinese political world is the great age of the high officers, and
it is not easy to account for their being kept in their posts, when
almost worn out, by a monarch who wished to have efficient men around
him, until we learn how little real power he can arbitrarily exert
over the details of the branches of his government. It is somewhat
explainable on the ground that, as long as the old incumbents are
alive, the Emperor, being more habituated to their company and advice,
prefers to retain those whose competency has been proven by their
service. The patriarch, kept near the Emperor, is moreover a kind of
hostage for the loyalty of his following; and the latter, scattered
throughout the provinces, can be managed and moved about through him
with less opposition: he is, still further, a convenient medium through
which to receive the exactions of the younger members of the service,
and convey such intimations as are thought necessary. The system of
clientelage which existed among the Gauls and Franks is also found in
China with some modifications, and has a tendency to link officers
to one another in parties of different degrees of power. The Emperor
published an order in 1833 against this system of patronage, and it is
evident that he would find it seriously interfering with his power were
it not constantly broken up by changing the relations of the parties
and sending them away in different directions. Peking is almost the
only place where the “teacher and pupils,” as the patron and client
call each other, could combine to much purpose; and the principal
safeguard the throne seems to have against intrigues and parties around
it lies in the conflicting interests arising among themselves, though a
long-established or unscrupulous favorite, as in the cases of Duke Ho
and Suhshun in 1855-61, can sometimes manage to engross the whole power
of the crown.
~VALEDICTORY VERSES OF GOVERNOR CHU.~
Notwithstanding the heavy charges of oppression, cruelty, bribery,
and mendacity which are often brought against officers with more or
less justice, it must not be inferred that no good qualities exist
among them. Thousands of them desire to rule equitably, to clear the
innocent and punish the guilty, and exert all the knowledge and power
they possess to discharge their functions to the acceptance of their
master and their own good name among the inhabitants. Such officers,
too, generally rise, while the cruelties of others are visited with
degradation. The pasquinades which the people stick up in the streets
indicate their sentiments, and receive much more attention than would
such vulgar expressions in other countries, because it is almost the
only way in which their opinions can be safely uttered. The popularity
which upright officers receive acts as an incentive to others to follow
in the same steps, as well as a reward to the person himself. The
governor of Kwangtung in 1833, Chu, was a very popular officer, and
when he obtained leave to resign his station on account of age, the
people vied with each other in showing their hearty regret at losing
him. The old custom was observed of retaining his boots and presenting
him with a new pair at every city he passed through, and many other
testimonials of their regard were adopted. On leaving the city of
Canton he circulated a few verses, “to console the people and excite
them to virtue,” for he heard that some of them wept on learning of his
departure.
From ancient days, my fathers trod the path
Of literary fame, and placed their names
Among the wise; two generations past,
Attendant on their patrons, they have come
To this provincial city.[247] Here this day
’Tis mine to be imperial envoy;
Thus has the memory of ancestral fame
Ceased not to stimulate this feeble frame.
My father held an office at Lungchau,[248]
And deep imprinted his memorial there;
He was the sure and generous friend
Of learning unencouraged and obscure.
When now I turn my head and travel back
In thought to that domestic hall, it seems
As yesterday, those early happy scenes--
How was he pained if forced to be severe!
From times remote Kwangtung has been renowned
For wise and mighty men; but none can stand
Among them, or compare with Kiuh Kiang:[249]
Three idle and inglorious years are past,
And I have raised no monument of fame,
By shedding round the rays of light and truth,
To give the people knowledge. In this heart
I feel the shame, and cannot bear the thought.
But now, in flowered pavilions, in street
Illuminations, gaudy shows, to praise
The gods and please themselves, from year to year
The modern people vie, and boast themselves,
And spend their hard-earned wealth--and all in vain;
For what shall be the end? Henceforth let all
Maintain an active and a useful life,
The sober husband and the frugal wife.
The gracious statesman,[250] politic and wise,
Is my preceptor and my long-tried friend;
Called now to separate, spare our farewell
The heartrending words affection so well loves.
That he may still continue to exhort
The people, and instruct them to be wise,
To practice virtue and to keep the laws
Of ancient sages, is my constant hope.
When I look backward o’er the field of fame
Where I have travelled a long fifty years,
The struggle for ambition and the sweat
For gain seem altogether vanity.
Who knoweth not that heaven’s toils are close,
Infinitely close? Few can escape.
Ah! how few great men reach a full old age!
How few unshorn of honors end their days!
Inveterate disease has twined itself
Around me, and binds me in slavery.
The kindness of his Majesty is high[251]
And liberal, admitting no return
Unless a grateful heart; still, still my eyes
Will see the miseries of the people--
Unlimited distresses, mournful, sad,
To the mere passer-by awaking grief.
Untalented, unworthy, I withdraw,
Bidding farewell to this windy, dusty world;
Upward I look to the supremely good--
The Emperor--to choose a virtuous man
To follow me. Henceforth it will be well--
The measures and the merits passing mine;
But I shall silent stand and see his grace
Diffusing blessings like the genial spring.
Ílípu, Kí Kung, the late governor-general of Kwangtung, and Shu, the
prefect of Ningpo in 1842, are other officers who have been popular in
late years. When Lin passed through Macao in 1839, the Chinese had in
several places erected honorary portals adorned with festoons of silk
and laudatory scrolls; and when he passed the doors of their houses
and shops they set out tables decorated with vases of flowers, “in
order to manifest their profound gratitude for his coming to save them
from a deadly vice, and for removing from them a dire calamity by the
destruction and severe interdiction of opium.” Alas, that his efforts
and intentions should have been so fruitless!
~OFFICIAL PETITIONS AND CONFESSIONS.~
The _Peking Gazette_ frequently contains petitions from old officers
describing their ailments, their fear lest they shall not be able
to perform their duties, the length of their official service, and
requesting leave of absence or permission to retire. It is impossible
to regard all the expressions of loyalty in these papers, coming
as they do from every class of officers, as heartless and made out
according to a prescribed form; but we are too ready to measure them
by our own standard and fashion, forgetting that it is not the defects
of a system which give the best standard of its value and efficiency.
Let us rather, as an honest expression of feeling, quote a few lines
from a memorial of Shí, a censor in 1824: “Reflecting within myself
that, notwithstanding the decay of my strength, it has still pleased
the imperial goodness to employ me in a high office instead of
rejecting and discarding me at once, I have been most anxious to effect
a cure, in order that, a weak old horse as I am, it might be still
in my power, by the exertion of my whole strength, to recompense a
ten-thousandth part of the benevolence which restored me to life.”[252]
Connected with the triennial schedule of official merits and demerits
is the necessity the high officers of state are under of confessing
their faults of government; and the two form a peculiar and somewhat
stringent check upon their intrigues and malversation, making them, as
Le Comte observes, “exceeding circumspect and careful, and sometimes
even virtuous against their own inclinations.” The confessions reported
in the _Peking Gazette_ are, however, by no means satisfactory as to
the real extent or nature of these acts; most of the confessors are
censors, and perhaps it is in virtue of their office that they thus sit
in judgment upon themselves. Examples of the crimes mentioned are not
wanting. The governor-general of Chihlí requested severe punishment in
1832 for not having discovered a plotting demagogue who had collected
several thousand adherents in his and the next provinces; his request
was granted. An admiral in the same province demands punishment for not
having properly educated his son, as thereby he went mad and wounded
several people. Another calls for judgment upon himself because the
Empress-dowager had been kept waiting at the palace gate by the porters
when she paid her Majesty a visit. One officer accused himself for
not being able to control the Yellow River; and his Majesty’s cook in
1830 requested punishment for being too late in presenting his bill of
fare, but was graciously forgiven. The rarity of these confessions,
compared with the actual sins, shows either that they are, like a
partridge’s doublings, made to draw off attention from the real nest
of malversation, or that few officers are willing to undergo the
mortification.
The Emperor, in his character of vicegerent of heaven, occasionally
imposes the duty of self-confession upon himself. Kiaking issued
several public confessions during his reign, but the _Gazette_ has
not contained many such papers within the last thirty years. These
confessions are drawn from him more by natural calamities, such as
drought, freshets, epidemics, etc., than by political causes, though
insurrections, fires, ominous portents, etc., sometimes induce them.
The personal character of the monarch has much to do with their
frequency and phraseology. On occasion of a drought in 1817 the Emperor
Kiaking said: “The remissness and sloth of the officers of government
constitute an evil which has long been accumulating. It is not the
evil of a day; for several years I have given the most pressing
admonitions on the subject, and have punished many cases which have
been discovered, so that recently there appears a little improvement,
and for several seasons the weather has been favorable. The drought
this season is not perhaps entirely on their (the officers’) account.
I have meditated upon it, and am persuaded that the reason why the
azure Heavens above manifest disapprobation by withholding rain for
a few hundred miles only around the capital, is that the fifty and
more rebels who escaped are secreted somewhere near Peking. Hence it
is that fertile vapors are fast bound, and the felicitous harmony of
the seasons interrupted.” On the 14th of May, 1818, between five and
six o’clock in the evening, a sudden darkness enveloped the capital,
attended by a violent wind from the southeast and much rain. During
its action two intervals occurred when the sky became a lurid red and
the air offensive, terrible claps of thunder startling the people
and frightening the monarch. His astrologers could not relieve his
forebodings of evil, and he issued a manifesto to explain the matter
to his subjects and discharge his own conscience. One sentence is
worth quoting: “Calumnious accusations cause the ruin and death of
a multitude of innocent people; they alone are capable of provoking
a sign as terrible as this one just seen. The wind coming from the
southeast is proof enough that some great crime has been committed in
that region, which the officials, by neglecting their duties, have
ignored, and thereby excited the ire of Heaven.”[253]
~PRAYER FOR RAIN OF TAUKWANG.~
One of the most remarkable specimens of these papers is a prayer for
rain issued by Taukwang, July 24, 1832, on occasion of a severe
drought at the capital. Before publishing this paper he had endeavored
to mollify the anger and heat of heaven by ordering all suspected and
accused persons in the prisons of the metropolis to be tried, and their
guilt or innocence established, in order that the course of justice
might not be delayed, and witnesses be released from confinement. But
these vicarious corrections did not avail, and the drought continuing,
he was obliged, as high-priest of the Empire, to show the people
that he was mindful of their sufferings, and would relieve them, if
possible, by presenting the following memorial:
“Kneeling, a memorial is hereby presented, to cause affairs to be
heard.
“Oh, alas! imperial Heaven, were not the world afflicted by
extraordinary changes, I would not dare to present extraordinary
services. But this year the drought is most unusual. Summer is past,
and no rain has fallen. Not only do agriculture and human beings
feel the dire calamity, but also beasts and insects, herbs and
trees, almost cease to live. I, the minister of Heaven, am placed
over mankind, and am responsible for keeping the world in order and
tranquillizing the people. Although it is now impossible for me to
sleep or eat with composure, although I am scorched with grief and
tremble with anxiety, still, after all, no genial and copious showers
have been obtained.
“Some days ago I fasted, and offered rich sacrifices on the altars
of the gods of the land and the grain, and had to be thankful
for gathering clouds and slight showers; but not enough to cause
gladness. Looking up, I consider that Heaven’s heart is benevolence
and love. The sole cause is the daily deeper atrocity of my sins; but
little sincerity and little devotion. Hence I have been unable to
move Heaven’s heart, and bring down abundant blessings.
“Having searched the records, I find that in the twenty-fourth
year of Kienlung my exalted Ancestor, the Emperor Pure, reverently
performed a ‘great snow service.’ I feel impelled, by ten thousand
considerations, to look up and imitate the usage, and with trembling
anxiety rashly assail Heaven, examine myself, and consider my errors;
looking up and hoping that I may obtain pardon. I ask myself whether
in sacrificial services I have been disrespectful? Whether or not
pride and prodigality have had a place in my heart, springing forth
there unobserved? Whether, from length of time, I have become remiss
in attending to the affairs of government, and have been unable to
attend to them with that serious diligence and strenuous effort
which I ought? Whether I have uttered irreverent words, and have
deserved reprehension? Whether perfect equity has been attained in
conferring rewards or inflicting punishments? Whether in raising
mausolea and laying out gardens I have distressed the people and
wasted property? Whether in the appointment of officers I have failed
to obtain fit persons, and thereby the acts of government have been
petty and vexatious to the people? Whether punishments have been
unjustly inflicted or not? Whether the oppressed have found no
means of appeal? Whether in persecuting heterodox sects the innocent
have not been involved? Whether or not the magistrates have insulted
the people and refused to listen to their affairs? Whether, in the
successive military operations on the western frontiers, there
may not have been the horrors of human slaughter for the sake of
imperial rewards? Whether the largesses bestowed on the afflicted
southern provinces were properly applied, or the people were left
to die in the ditches? Whether the efforts to exterminate or pacify
the rebellious mountaineers of Hunan and Kwangtung were properly
conducted; or whether they led to the inhabitants being trampled on
as mire and ashes? To all these topics to which my anxieties have
been directed I ought to lay the plumb-line, and strenuously endeavor
to correct what is wrong; still recollecting that there may be faults
which have not occurred to me in my meditations.
“Prostrate I beg imperial Heaven (_Hwang Tien_) to pardon my
ignorance and stupidity, and to grant me self-renovation; for
myriads of innocent people are involved by me, the One man. My sins
are so numerous it is difficult to escape from them. Summer is
past and autumn arrived; to wait longer will really be impossible.
Knocking head, I pray imperial Heaven to hasten and confer gracious
deliverance--a speedy and divinely beneficial rain, to save the
people’s lives and in some degree redeem my iniquities. Oh, alas!
imperial Heaven, observe these things. Oh, alas! imperial Heaven,
be gracious to them. I am inexpressibly grieved, alarmed, and
frightened. Reverently this memorial is presented.”[254]
This paper apparently intimates some acknowledgment of a ruling power
above, and before a despot like the Emperor of China would place
himself in such an equivocal posture before his people, he would assure
himself very thoroughly of their sentiments; for its effects as a state
paper would be worse than null if the least ridicule was likely to be
thrown upon it. In this case heavy showers followed the same evening,
and appropriate thanksgivings were ordered and oblations presented
before the six altars of heaven, earth, land, and grain, and the gods
of heaven, earth, and the revolving year.
~METHODS OF PUBLISHING EDICTS.~
The orders of the court are usually transmitted in manuscript,
except when some grand event or state ceremony requires a general
proclamation, in which cases the document is printed on yellow paper
and published in both the Chinese and Manchu languages, encircled with
a border of dragons. The governors and their subordinates, imperial
commissioners, and collectors of customs are the principal officers
in the provinces who publish their orders to the people, consisting
of admonitions, exhortations, regulations, laws, special ordinances,
threatenings, and municipal requirements. Standing laws and local
regulations are often superbly carved on tablets of black marble,
and placed in the streets to be “held in everlasting remembrance,”
so that no one can plead ignorance; a custom which recalls the mode
of publishing the Twelve Tables at Rome. Several of these monuments,
beautifully ornamented, are to be seen at Canton and Macao. The usual
mode of publishing the commands of government is to print the document
in large characters, and post copies at the door of the offices and in
the streets in public places, with the seal of the officer attached to
authenticate them. The sheets on which they are printed being common
bamboo paper, and having no protection from the weather, are, however,
soon destroyed; the people read them as they are thus exposed, and copy
them if they wish, but it is not uncommon, too, for the magistrates to
print important edicts in pamphlet form for circulation. These placards
are written in an official style, differing from common writing as
much as that does in English, but not involved or obscure. A single
specimen of an edict issued at Canton will suffice to illustrate the
form of such papers, and moreover show upon what subjects a Chinese
ruler sometimes legislates, and the care he is expected to take of the
people.
~EDICT FOR THE DESTRUCTION OF GRASSHOPPERS.~
“Sü and Hwang, by special appointment magistrates of the districts of
Nanhai and Pwanyu, raised ten steps and recorded ten times, hereby
distinctly publish important rules for the capture of grasshoppers,
that it may be known how to guard against them in order to ward off
injury and calamity. On the 7th day of the 8th month in the 13th year
of Taukwang [September 20, 1833], we received a communication from
the prefect of the [department of Kwangchau], transmitting a despatch
from their excellencies the governor-general and governor, as follows:
“‘During the fifth month of the present year flights of grasshoppers
appeared in the limits of Kwangsí, in [the departments of] Liu, Tsin,
Kwei, and Wu, and their vicinage, which have already, according to
report, been clean destroyed and driven off. We have heard that in
the department of Kauchau and its neighborhood, conterminous to
Kwangsí, grasshoppers have appeared which multiply with extreme
rapidity. At this time the second crop is in the blade (which if
destroyed will endamage the people), and it is proper, therefore,
immediately, wherever they are found, to capture and drive them
off, marshalling the troops to advance and wholly exterminate them.
But Kwangtung heretofore has never experienced this calamity, and
we apprehend the officers and people do not understand the mode of
capture; wherefore we now exhibit in order the most important rules
for catching grasshoppers. Let the governor’s combined forces be
immediately instructed to capture them _secundum artem_; at the
same time let orders be issued for the villagers and farmers at
once to assemble and take them, and for the magistrate to establish
storehouses for their reception and purchase, thus without fail
sweeping them clean away. If you do not exert yourselves to catch
the grasshoppers, your guilt will be very great; let it be done
carefully, not clandestinely delaying, thus causing this misfortune
to come upon yourselves, transgressing the laws, and causing us
again, according to the exigencies of the case, to promulgate general
orders and make thorough examination, etc., etc. Appended hereto
are copies of the rules for catching grasshoppers, which from the
lieutenant-governor must be sent to the treasurer, who will enjoin
it upon the magistrates of the departments, and he again upon the
district magistrates.’
“Having received the preceding, besides respectfully transmitting
it to the colonel of the department to be straightway forwarded to
all the troops under his authority, and also to all the district
justices, that they all with united purpose bend their energies to
observe, at the proper time, that whenever the grasshoppers become
numerous they join their forces and extirpate them, thus removing
calamity from the people; we also enjoin upon whomsoever receives
this that the grasshoppers be caught according to these several
directions, which are therefore here arranged in order as follows:
“‘1. When the grasshoppers first issue forth they are to be seen on
the borders of large morasses, from whence they quickly multiply
and fill large tracts of land; they produce their young in little
hillocks of black earth, using the tail to bore into the ground,
not quite an inch in depth, which still remain as open holes, the
whole somewhat resembling a bee’s nest. One grasshopper drops ten or
more pellets, in form like a pea, each one containing a hundred or
more young. For the young grasshoppers fly and eat in swarms, and
this laying of their young is done all at once and in the same spot;
the place resembles a hive of bees, and therefore it is very easily
sought and found.
“‘2. When the grasshoppers are in the fields of wheat and tender
rice and the thick grass, every day at early dawn they all alight on
the leaves of the grass, and their bodies being covered with dew are
heavy and they cannot fly or hop; at noon they begin to assemble for
flight, and at evening they collect in one spot. Thus each day there
are three periods when they can be caught, and the people and gentry
will also have a short respite. The mode of catching them is to dig a
trench before them, the broader and longer the better, on each side
placing boards, doors, screens, and such like things, one stretched
on after another, and spreading open each side. The whole multitude
must then cry aloud, and, holding boards in their hands, drive them
all into the trench; meanwhile those on the opposite side, provided
with brooms and rakes, on seeing any leaping or crawling out, must
sweep them back; then covering them with dry grass, burn them all up.
Let the fire be first kindled in the trench, and then drive them into
it; for if they are only buried up, then many of them will crawl out
of the openings and so escape.
“‘3. When the swarms of grasshoppers see a row of trees, or a close
line of flags and streamers, they usually hover over and settle; and
the farmers frequently suspend red and white clothes and petticoats
on long poles, or make red and green paper flags, but they do not
always settle with great rapidity. Moreover, they dread the noise of
gongs, matchlocks, and guns, hearing which they fly away. If they
come so as to obscure the heavens, you must let off the guns and
clang the gongs, or fire the crackers; it will strike the front ranks
with dread, and flying away, the rest will follow them and depart.
“‘4. When the wings and legs of the grasshoppers are taken off, and
[their bodies] dried in the sun, the taste is like dried prawns, and
moreover, they can be kept a long time without spoiling. Ducks can
also be reared upon the dried grasshoppers, and soon become large
and fat. Moreover, the hill people catch them to feed pigs; these
pigs, weighing at first only twenty catties or so, in ten days’ time
grow to weigh more than fifty catties; and in rearing all domestic
animals they are of use. Let all farmers exert themselves and catch
them alive, giving rice or money according to the number taken. In
order to remove this calamity from your grain, what fear is there
that you will not perform this? Let all these rules for catching the
grasshoppers be diligently carried into full effect.’
“Wherefore these commands are transcribed that all you soldiers and
people may be fully acquainted with them. Do you all then immediately
in obedience to them, when you see the proper time has come,
sound the gong; and when you see the grasshoppers and their young
increasing, straightway get ready, on the one hand seizing them, and
on the other announcing to the officers that they collect the troops,
that with united strength you may at once catch them, without fail
making an utter extermination of them; thus calamity will be removed
from the people. We will also then confer rewards upon those of
the farmers and people who first announce to the magistrates their
approach. Let every one implicitly obey. A special command.
“Promulgated Taukwang, 13th year, 8th month, and 15th day.”[255]
~CHARACTER AND PHRASEOLOGY OF THE EDICTS.~
The concluding part of an edict affords some room for displaying the
character of the promulgator. Among other endings are such as these:
“Hasten! hasten! a special edict.” “Tremble hereat intensely.” “Lay
not up for yourselves future repentance by disobedience.” “I will by
no means eat my words.” “Earnestly observe these things.” In their
state papers Chinese officers are constantly referring to ultimate
truths and axioms, and deducing arguments therefrom in a peculiarly
national grandiloquent manner, though some of their conclusions are
preposterous non-sequiturs. Commissioner Lin addressed a letter to the
Queen of England regarding the interdiction of opium, which began with
the following preamble:
“Whereas, the ways of Heaven are without partiality, and no sanction
is allowed to injure others in order to benefit one’s self, and that
men’s natural feelings are not very diverse (for where is he who does
not abhor death and love life?)--therefore your honorable nation,
though beyond the wide ocean at a distance of twenty thousand _lí_,
also acknowledges the same ways of Heaven, the same human nature, and
has the like perceptions of the distinctions between life and death,
benefit and injury. Our heavenly court has for its family all that
is within the four seas; and as to the great Emperor’s heaven-like
benevolence--there is none whom it does not overshadow; even regions
remote, desert, and disconnected have a part in his general care of
life and well-being.”
The edicts furnish almost the only exponents of the intentions of
government. They present several characteristic features of the
ignorant conceit and ridiculous assumptions of the Chinese, while they
betray the real weakness of the authorities in the mixture of argument
and command, coaxing and threatening, pervading every paragraph.
According to their phraseology, there can possibly be no failure in the
execution of every order; if they are once made known, the obedience
of the people follows almost as a matter of course; while at the same
time both the writer and the people know that most of them are not
only perfunctory but nearly useless. The responsibility of the writer
in a measure ceases with the promulgation of his orders, and when they
reach the last in the series their efficiency has well nigh departed.
Expediency is the usual guide for obedience; deceiving superiors and
oppressing the people the rule of action on the part of many officials;
and their orders do not more strikingly exhibit their weakness and
ignorance than their mendacity and conceit. A large proportion of
well-meaning officers are sensible too that all their efforts will be
neutralized by the half-paid, unscrupulous retainers and clerks in the
_yamuns_; and this checks their energy.
It is not easy, without citing many examples accompanied with
particular explanations, to give a just idea of the actual execution
of the laws, and show how far the people are secured in life and
property by their rulers; and perhaps nothing has been the source
of such differing views regarding the Chinese as the predominance
writers give either to the theory or the practice of legislation. Old
Magaillans has hit this point pretty well when he says: “It seems as
if the legislators had omitted nothing, and that they had foreseen
all inconveniences that were to be feared; so that I am persuaded
no kingdom in the world could be better governed or more happy, if
the conduct and probity of the officers were but answerable to the
institution of the government. But in regard they have no knowledge of
the true God, nor of the eternal rewards and punishments of the other
world, they are subject to no remorses of conscience, they place all
their happiness in pleasure, in dignity and riches; and therefore,
to obtain these fading advantages, they violate all the laws of God
and man, trampling under foot religion, reason, justice, honesty, and
all the rights of consanguinity and friendship. The inferior officers
mind nothing but how to defraud their superiors, they the supreme
tribunals, and all together how to cheat the king; which they know how
to do with so much cunning and address, making use in their memorials
of words and expressions so soft, so honest, so respectful, so humble
and full of adulation, and of reasons so plausible, that the deluded
prince frequently takes the greatest falsehoods for solemn truths.
So that the people, finding themselves continually oppressed and
overwhelmed without any reason, murmur and raise seditions and revolts,
which have caused so much ruin and so many changes in the Empire.
Nevertheless, there is no reason that the excellency and perfection of
the laws of China should suffer for the depravity and wickedness of the
magistrates.”[256]
~EXTORTIONS PRACTISED BY MAGISTRATES.~
Magaillans resided in China nearly forty years, and his opinion may
be considered on the whole as a fair judgment of the real condition
of the people and the policy of their rulers. When one is living in
the country itself, to hear the complaints of individuals against
the extortion and cruelty of their rulers, and to read the reports
of judicial murder, torture, and crime in the _Peking Gazette_, are
enough to cause one to wonder how such atrocities and oppressions are
endured from year to year, and why the sufferers do not rise and throw
aside the tyrannous power which thus abuses them. But the people are
generally conscious that their rulers are no better than themselves,
and that they would really gain nothing by such a procedure, and their
desire to maintain as great a degree of peace as possible leads them
to submit to many evils, which in western countries would soon be
remedied or cause a revolution. In order to restrain the officers in
their misrule, Section CCX. of the code ordains that “If any officer
of government, whose situation gives him power and control over the
people, not only does not conciliate them by proper indulgence,
but exercises his authority in a manner so inconsistent with the
established laws and approved usages of the Empire, that the sentiments
of the once loyal subjects being changed by his oppressive conduct,
they assemble tumultuously and openly rebel, and drive him at length
from the capital city and seat of his government; such officer shall
suffer death.”
By the laws of China, every officer of the nine ranks must be
previously qualified for duty by a degree; in the ninth are included
village magistrates, deputy treasurers, jailers, etc., but the police,
local interpreters, clerks, and other attendants on the courts are not
considered as having any rank, and most of them are natives of the
place where they are employed. The only degradation they can feel is to
turn them out of their stations, but this is hardly a palliative of the
evils the people suffer from them; the new leech is more thirsty than
the old. The cause of many of the extortions the people suffer from
their rulers is found in the system of purchasing office, at all times
practised in one shape or other, but occasionally resorted to by the
government. As the counterpart of this system, that of receiving bribes
must be expected therefore to prevail, and being in fact practised
by all grades of dignitaries, and sometimes even upheld by them as a
“necessary evil,” it adds still more to the bad consequences resulting
from this mode of obtaining office. Indeed, so far is the practice of
“covering the eyes” carried in China, that the people seldom approach
their rulers without a gift to make way for them.
One mode taken by the highest ranks to obtain money is to notify
inferiors that there are certain days on which presents are expected,
and custom soon increases these as much as the case will admit.
Subscriptions for objects of public charity or disbursements, such as
an inundation, a bad harvest, bursting of dikes, and other similar
things which the government must look after, are not unfrequently made
a source of revenue to the incumbents by requiring much more than is
needed; those who subscribe are rewarded by an empty title, a peacock’s
feather, or employment in some insignificant formality. The sale of
titular rank is a source of revenue, but the government never attempts
to subvert or interfere with the well-known channel of attaining
office by literary merit, and it seldom confers much real power for
money when unconnected with some degree of fitness. The security of
its own position is not to be risked for the sake of an easy means of
filling its exchequer, yet it is impossible to say how far the sale of
office and title is carried. The censors inveigh against it, and the
Emperor almost apologizes for resorting to it, but it is nevertheless
constantly practised. The government stocks of this description were
opened during the late rebellions and foreign wars, as the necessities
of the case were a sufficient excuse for the disreputable practice. In
1835 the sons of two of the leading hong-merchants were promoted, in
consequence of their donations of $25,000 each to repair the ravages
of an inundation; subscribers to the amount of $10,000 and upward were
rewarded by an honorary title, whose only privilege is that it saves
its possessor from a bambooing, it being the law that no one holding
any office can be personally chastised.[257]
~AGENTS AND MODES OF OFFICIAL EXACTION.~
Besides the lower officers, the clerks in their employ and the police,
who are often taken from the garrison soldiery, are the agents in
the hands of the upper ranks to squeeze the people. There are many
clerks of various duties and grades about all the offices who receive
small salaries, and every application and petition to their superiors,
going through their hands, is attended by a bribe to pass them up. The
military police and servants connected with the offices are not paid
any regular salary, and their number is great. In the large districts,
like those of Nanhai and Pwanyu, which compose the city of Canton and
suburbs, it is said there are about a thousand unpaid police; in the
middle-sized ones between three and four hundred, and in the smallest
from one to two hundred. This number is increased by the domestics
attending high officers as part of their suite, and by their old
acquaintances, who make themselves known when there is any likelihood
of being employed. Among other abuses mentioned by the censors is that
of magistrates appointing their own creatures to fill vacancies until
those nominated by his Majesty arrive; like a poor man oppressing the
poor, such officers are a sweeping rain. A similar abuse arises when
country magistrates leave their posts to go to the provincial capital
to dance attendance upon their superiors, and get nominated to a higher
place or taken into their service as secretaries, because they will
work for nothing; the duties of their vacated offices are meantime
usually left undone, and underlings take advantage of their absence
to make new exactions. The governor fills vacant offices with his own
friends, and recommends them to his Majesty to be confirmed; but this
has little effect in consolidating a system of oppression from the
constant changes going on. In fact, it is hard to say which feature of
the Chinese polity is the least disastrous to good government, these
constant changes which neutralize all sympathy with the people on the
part of rulers, or on the other hand make it useless for seditious men
to try to foment rebellion.
The retinues of high provincial officers contain many dependents and
expectant supernumeraries, all subservient to them; among them are
the descendants of poor officers; the sons of bankrupt merchants who
once possessed influence; dissipated, well bred, unscrupulous men, who
lend themselves to everything flagitious; and lastly, fortune-seekers
without money, but possessing talents of good order to be used by
any one who will hire them. Such persons are not peculiar to China,
and their employment is guarded against in the code, but no law is
more of a dead letter. Officers of government, too, conscious of their
delinquencies, and afraid their posts will soon be taken from them, of
course endeavor to make the most of their opportunities, and by means
of such persons, who are usually well acquainted with the leading
inhabitants of the district, harass and threaten such as are likely
to pay well for being left in quiet. It does them little or no good,
however, for if they are not removed they must fee their superiors, and
if they are punished for their misdeeds they are still more certain of
losing their wicked exactions.
In the misappropriation of public funds, and peculation of all kinds
in materials, government stores, rations, wages, and salaries, the
Chinese officials are skilled experts, and are never surprised at any
disclosures.
Another common mode of plundering the people is for officers to collude
with bands of thieves, and allow them to escape for a composition when
arrested, or substitute other persons for the guilty party in case the
real offenders are likely to be condemned. Sometimes these banditti
are too strong even for an upright magistrate, and he is obliged to
overlook what he cannot remedy; for, however much he may wish to arrest
and bring them to justice, his policemen are too much afraid of their
vengeance to venture upon attacking them. An instance of this occurred
near Canton in 1839, when a boat, containing a clerk of the court and
three or four police, came into the fleet of European opium-ships to
hunt for some desperate opium smugglers who had taken refuge there.
The fellows, hearing of the arrival of the boat, came in the night,
and surrounding it took out the crew, bound their pursuers, and
burned them alive with the boat in sight of the whole fleet, to whom
the desperadoes looked for protection against their justly incensed
countrymen.
A censor in 1819, complaining of flagrant neglect in the administration
of justice in Chihlí, says: “Among the magistrates are many who,
without fear or shame, connive at robbery and deceit. Formerly,
horse-stealers were wont to conceal themselves in some secret place,
but now they openly bring their plunder to market for sale. When they
perceive a person to be weak, they are in the habit of stealing his
property and returning it to him for money, while the officers, on
hearing it, treat it as a trivial matter, and blame the sufferer for
not being more cautious. Thieves are apprehended with warrants on them,
showing that when they were sent out to arrest thieves they availed
of the opportunity to steal for themselves. And at a village near the
imperial residence are very many plunderers concealed, who go out by
night in companies of twenty or thirty persons, carrying weapons with
them; they frequently call up the inhabitants, break open the doors,
and having satisfied themselves with what food and wine they can
obtain, they threaten and extort money, which if they cannot procure
they seize their clothes, ornaments, or cattle, and depart. They also
frequently go to shops, and having broken open the shutters impudently
demand money, which if they do not get they set fire to the shop with
the torches in their hands. If the master of the house lay hold on a
few of them and sends them to the magistrate, he merely imprisons and
beats them, and before half a month allows them to run away.”[258]
~VENALITY OF THE POLICE AND CLERKS.~
The unpaid retainers about the _yamuns_ are very numerous, and are
more dreaded than the police; one censor says they are looked upon by
the people as tigers and wolves; he effected the discharge of nearly
twenty-four thousand of them in the province of Chihlí alone. They
are usually continued in their places by the head magistrate, who,
when he arrives, being ignorant of the characters of those he must
employ, re-engages such as are likely to serve. In cases of serious
accusation the clerks frequently subpœna all who are likely to be
implicated, and demand a fee for liberating them when their innocence
is shown. These myrmidons still fear the anger of their superiors and
a recoil of the people so far as to endeavor to save appearances by
hushing up the matter, and liberating those unjustly apprehended,
with great protestations of compassion. It may be added that, as life
is not lightly taken, thieves are careful not to murder or maltreat
their victims dangerously, nor do the magistrates venture to take life
outright by torture, though their cruelties frequently result in death
by neglect or starvation. Money and goods are what both policemen and
officials want, not blood and revenge. Parties at strife with each
other frequently resort to legal implication to gratify their ill-will,
and take a pitiful revenge by egging on the police to pillage and vex
their enemy, though they themselves profit nowise thereby.
The evils resulting from a half-paid and venal magistracy are dreadful,
and the prospects of their removal very slight. The governor of Chihlí,
in 1829, memorialized the Emperor upon the state of the police, and
pointed out a remedy for many abuses, one of which was to pay them fair
salaries out of the public treasury; but it is plain that this remedy
must begin with the monarch, for until an officer is released from
sopping his superior he will not cease exacting from his inferiors.
Experience has shown the authorities how far it can safely be carried;
while many officers, seeing how useless it is to irritate the people,
so far as ultimately enriching themselves is concerned, endeavor to
restrain their policemen. One governor issued an edict, stating that
none of his domestics were allowed to browbeat shopmen, and thus get
goods or eatables below the market price, and permitted the seller to
collar and bring them to him for punishment when they did so. When
an officer of high rank, as a governor, treasurer, etc., takes the
seals of his post, he ofttimes issues a proclamation, exhorting the
subordinate ranks to do as he means to do--“to look up and embody the
kindness of the high Emperor,” and attend to the faithful discharge of
their duties. The lower officers, in their turn, join in the cry, and a
series of proclamations, by turns hortative and mandatory, are echoed
from mastiff, spaniel, and poodle, until the cry ends upon the police.
Thus the prefect of Canton says: “There are hard-hearted soldiers and
gnawing lictors who post themselves at ferries or markets, or rove
about the streets, to extort money under various pretexts; or, being
intoxicated, they disturb and annoy the people in a hundred ways.
Since I came into office here I have repeatedly commanded the inferior
magistrates to act faithfully and seize such persons, but the depraved
spirit still continues.”
A censor, speaking of the police, says: “They no sooner get a warrant
to bring up witnesses than they assail both plaintiff and defendant for
money to pay their expenses, from the amount of ten taels to several
scores. Then the clerks must have double what the runners get; if their
demands be not satisfied they contrive every species of annoyance.
Then, again, if there are people of property in the neighborhood, they
will implicate them. They plot also with pettifogging lawyers to get up
accusations against people, and threaten and frighten them out of their
money.”[259]
One natural consequence of such a state of society and such a
perversion of justice is to render the people afraid of all contact
with the officers of government and exceedingly selfish in all their
intercourse, though the latter trait needs no particular training
to develop it in any heathen country. It also tends to an inhuman
disregard of the life of others, and chills every emotion of kindness
which might otherwise arise; for by making a man responsible for the
acts of his neighbors, or by involving a whole village in the crimes
of an individual, all sense of justice is violated. The terror of
being implicated in any evil that takes place sometimes prevents the
people from quenching fires until the superior authorities be first
informed, and from relieving the distressed until it is often too late.
Hence, too, it not unfrequently happens that a man who has had the ill
fortune to be stabbed to death in the street, or who falls down from
disease and dies, remains on the spot till the putrescence obliges the
neighbors, for their own safety, to remove the corpse. A dead body
floating down the river and washing ashore is likely to remain on the
banks until it again drifts away or the authorities get it buried,
for no unofficial person would voluntarily run the risk of being seen
interring it. One censor reports that when he asked the people why they
did not remove the loathsome object, they said: “We always let the
bodies be either buried in the bellies of fishes or devoured by the
dogs; for if we inform the magistrates they are sure to make the owner
of the ground buy a coffin, and the clerks and assistants distress us
in a hundred ways.” The usual end of these memorials and remonstrances
is that the police are ordered to behave better, the clerks commanded
to abstain from implicating innocent people and retarding the course
of justice, and their masters, the magistrates, threatened with the
Emperor’s displeasure in case the grievance is not remedied: after
which all goes on as before, and will go on as long as both rulers and
ruled are what they are.
~EFFECT OF MUTUAL RESPONSIBILITY.~
The working out of the principle of responsibility accounts for many
things in Chinese society and jurisprudence that otherwise appear
completely at variance with even common humanity. It makes an officer
careless of his duties if he can shift the responsibility of failure
upon his inferiors, who, at the same time, he knows can never execute
his orders; it renders the people dead to the impulses of relationship,
lest they become involved in what they cannot possibly control and
hardly know at the time of its commission. Mr. Lindsay states that
when he was at Tsungming in 1832 the officers were very urgent that
he should go out of the river, and in order to show him the effect of
his non-compliance upon others a degraded subaltern was paraded in
his sight. “His cap with its gold button was borne before him, and he
marched about blindfolded in procession between two executioners, with
a small flag on a bamboo pierced through each ear. Before him was a
placard with the inscription, ‘By orders of the general of Su and Sung:
for a breach of military discipline, his ears are pierced as a warning
to the multitude.’ His offence was having allowed our boat to pass the
fort without reporting it.”
During the first war with England, fear of punishment induced many of
the subordinates to commit suicide when unable to execute their orders,
and the same motive impelled their superiors to avoid the wrath of the
Emperor in like fashion. The hong-merchants and linguists at Canton,
during the old regime, were constantly liable, from the operation of
this principle, to exactions and punishments for the acts of their
foreign customers. One of them, Sunshing, was put in prison and ruined
because Lord Napier came to Canton from Whampoa in the boat of a ship
which the unhappy merchant had “secured” several weeks before, and
the linguist and pilot were banished for allowing what they could not
possibly have hindered even if they had known it.
Having examined in this general manner the various grades of official
rank, we come to the people; and a close view will show that this
great mass of human beings exhibits many equally objectionable traits,
while oppression, want, clannish rivalry, and brigandage combine
to keep it in a constant state of turmoil. The subdivisions into
tithings and hundreds are better observed in rural districts than in
cities, and the headmen of those communities, in their individual and
collective character, possess great influence, from the fact that they
represent the popular feeling. In all parts of the country this popular
organization is found in some shape or other, though, as if everything
was somehow perverted, it not unfrequently is an instrument of greater
oppression than defence. The division of the people into clans is far
more marked in the southern provinces than in those lying north of the
Yangtsz’, and has had a depressing effect upon their good government.
It resembles in general the arrangement of the Scottish clans, as
do the evils arising from their dissensions and feuds those which
history records as excited among the Highlanders by the rivalry between
Campbells and Macgregors.
~VILLAGE ELDERS.~
The eldership of villages has no necessary connection with the clans,
for the latter are unacknowledged by the government, but the clan
having the majority in a village generally selects the elders from
among their number. This system is of very ancient date; its elementary
details are given in the _Chau-lí_, one of the oldest works extant in
China; Heeren furnishes the same details for India and Raffles for
Java, reaching back in their duration to remote antiquity.[260] In the
vicinity of Canton the elder is elected by a sort of town meeting, and
holds his office during good behavior, receives such a salary as his
fellow villagers give him, and may be removed to make way for another
whenever the principal persons in the village are displeased with his
conduct. His duties are limited to the supervision of the police and
general oversight of what is done in the village, and to be a sort
of agent or spokesman between the villagers and higher authorities;
the duties, the power, and the rank of these officers vary almost
indefinitely. The preponderance of one clan prevents much strife in
the selection of the elder, but the degree of power reposed in his
hand is so small that there is probably little competition to obtain
the dignity. A village police is maintained by the inhabitants, under
the authority of the elder; the Village of Whampoa, for instance,
containing about eight thousand inhabitants, pays the elder $300
salary, and employs fourteen watchmen. His duties further consist in
deciding upon the petty questions arising between the villagers and
visiting the delinquents with chastisement, enforcing such regulations
as are deemed necessary regarding festivals, markets, tanks, streets,
collection of taxes, etc. The system of surveillance is, however, kept
up by the superior officers, who appoint excise officers, grain agents,
tide-waiters, or some other subordinate, as the case may require, to
exercise a general oversight of the headmen.
The district magistrate, with the _siunkien_ and their deputies
over the hundred, are the officers to whom appeals are carried from
the headmen; they also receive the reports of the elders respecting
suspicious characters within their limits, or other matters which they
deem worthy of reference or remonstrance. A similarity of interests
leads the headmen of many villages to meet together at times in a
public hall for secret consultation upon important matters, and their
united resolutions are generally acted upon by themselves or by the
magistrates, as the case may be. This system of eldership, and the
influential position the headmen occupy, is an important safeguard
the people possess against the extremity of oppressive extortion;
while, too, it upholds the government in strengthening the loyalty
of those who feel that the only security they possess against theft,
and loss of all things from their seditious countrymen, is to uphold
the institutions of the land, and that to suffer the evils of a bad
magistracy is less dreadful than the horrors of a lawless brigandage.
~SOCIAL EVILS OF CLANSHIP.~
The customs and laws of clanship perpetuate a sad state of society,
and render districts and villages, otherwise peaceful, the scenes
of unceasing turmoil and trouble. There are only about four hundred
clans in the whole of China, but inasmuch as all of the same surname
do not live in the same place, the separation of a clan answers the
same purpose as multiplying it. Clannish feelings and feuds are very
much stronger in Kwangtung and Fuhkien than in other provinces. As an
instance which may be mentioned, the _Gazette_ contains the petition
of a man from Chauchau fu, in Kwangtung, relating to a quarrel,
stating that “four years before, his kindred having refused to assist
two other clans in their feuds, had during that period suffered most
shocking cruelties. Ten persons had been killed, and twenty men and
women, taken captives, had had their eyes dug out, their ears cut
off, their feet maimed, and so rendered useless for life. Thirty
houses were laid in ruins and three hundred acres of land seized, ten
thousand taels plundered, ancestral temples thrown down, graves dug up,
dikes destroyed, and water cut off from the fields. The governor had
offered a reward of a thousand taels to any one who would apprehend
these persons, but for the ten murders no one had been executed, for
the police dare not seize the offenders, whose numbers have largely
increased, and who set the laws at defiance.” This region is notorious
for the turbulence of its inhabitants; it adjoins the province of
Fuhkien, and the people, known at Canton as _Hoklo_, emigrate in large
numbers to the Indian Archipelago or to other provinces. The later
_Gazettes_ contain still more dreadful accounts of the contests of
the clans, and the great loss of life and property resulting from
their forays, no less than one hundred and twenty villages having been
attacked, and thousands of people killed. These battles are constantly
occurring, and the authorities, feeling themselves too weak to put them
down, are obliged to connive at them and let the clans fight it out.
Ill will is kept up between the clans, and private revenges gratified,
by every personal annoyance that malice can suggest or opportunity
tempt. If an unfortunate individual of one clan is met alone by his
enemy, he is sure to be robbed or beaten, or both; the boats or the
houses of each party are plundered or burned, and legal redress is
almost impossible. Graves are defaced and tombstones injured, and on
the annual visit to the family sepulchre perhaps a putrid corpse is
met, placed there by the hostile clan; this insult arouses all their
ire, and they vow deadly revenge. The villagers sally out with such
arms as they possess, and death and wounds are almost sure to result
before they separate. In Shunteh (a district between Canton and
Macao) upward of a thousand men engaged with spears and firearms on
one of these occasions, and thirty-six lives were lost; the military
were called in to quell the riot. In Tungkwan district, southeast of
Canton, thirty-six ringleaders were apprehended, and in 1831 it was
reported that four hundred persons had been killed in these raids; only
twenty-seven of their kindred appealed to government for redress.
When complaint is made to the prefect or governor, and investigation
becomes inevitable, the villagers have a provision to meet the
exigencies of the case, which puts the burden of the charges as
equally as possible upon the whole clan. A band of “devoted men” are
found--persons who volunteer to assume such crimes and run their chance
for life--whose names are kept on a list, and they come forward and
surrender themselves to government as the guilty persons. On the trial
their friends employ witnesses to prove it a justifiable homicide, and
magnify the provocation, and if there are several brought on the stand
at once they try to get some of them clear by proving an alibi. It
not unfrequently happens that the accused are acquitted--seldom that
they are executed; transportation or a fine is the usual result. The
inducement for persons to run this risk of their lives is security from
the clan of a maintenance for their families in case of death, and a
reward, sometimes as high as $300, in land or money when they return.
This sum is raised by taxing the clan or village, and the imposition
falls heavily on the poorer portion of it, who can neither avoid nor
easily pay it. This system of substitution pervades all parts of
society, and for all misdemeanors. A person was strangled in Macao in
1838 for having been engaged in the opium trade, who had been hired
by the real criminal to answer to his name. Another mode of escape,
sometimes tried in such cases when the person has been condemned, is
to bribe the jailers to report him dead and carry out his body in a
coffin; but this device probably does not often answer the end, as the
turnkeys require a larger bribe than can be raised. There can be little
doubt of the prevalence of the practice, and for crimes of even minor
penalty.
To increase the social evils of clanship and systematized thieving,
local tyrants occasionally spring up, persons who rob and maltreat the
villagers by means of their armed retainers, who are in most cases,
doubtless, members of the same clan. One of these tyrants, named
_Yeh_, or Leaf, became quite notorious in the district of Tungkwan in
1833, setting at defiance all the power of the local authorities, and
sending out his men to plunder and ravage whoever resisted his demands,
destroying their graves and grain, and particularly molesting those who
would not deliver up their wives or daughters to gratify him. He was
arrested through craft by the district magistrate at Canton leaving
his office and inducing him, for old acquaintance sake, to return
with him to the provincial city; he was there tried and executed by
the governor, although it was at the time reported that the Board of
Punishments endeavored to save his life because he had been in office
at the capital. In order that no attempt should be made to rescue him,
he was left in ignorance of his sentence until he was put into the
sedan to be carried to execution.
~BANDITTI AND TRAMPS.~
Clannish banditti often supply themselves with firearms, and prowling
the country to revenge themselves on their enemies, soon proceed to
pillage every one; in disarming them the government is sometimes
obliged to resort to contemptible subterfuges, which conspicuously show
its weakness and encourage a repetition of the evil. Parties of tramps,
called _hakka_, or ‘guests,’ roam over Kwangtung province, squatting
on vacant places along the shores, away from the villages, and forming
small clannish communities; as soon as they increase, occupying more
and more of the land, they begin to commit petty depredations upon
the crops of the inhabitants, and demand money for the privilege of
burying upon the unoccupied ground around them. The government is
generally unwilling to drive them off by force, because there is the
alternative of making them robbers thereby, and they are invited to
settle in other waste lands, which they can have free of taxation, and
leave those they have cultivated if strictly private property. This
practice shows the populousness of the country in a conspicuous manner.
To these evils must be also added the large bodies of floating banditti
or dakoits, who rove up and down all the watercourses “like sneaking
rats” and pounce upon defenceless boats. Hardly a river or estuary in
the land is free from these miscreants, and lives and property are
annually destroyed by them to a very great amount, especially on the
Yangtsz’, the Pearl River, and other great thoroughfares.
The popular associations in cities and towns are chiefly based
upon a community of interests, resulting either from a similarity
of occupation, when the leading persons of the same calling form
themselves into guilds, or from the municipal regulations requiring the
householders living in the same street to unite to maintain a police
and keep the peace of their division. Each guild has an assembly-hall,
where its members meet to hold the festival of their patron saint,
to collect and appropriate the subscriptions of the members and
settle the rent or storage on the rooms and goods in the hall, to
discuss all public matters as well as the good cheer they get on such
occasions, and to confer with other guilds. The members often go to
a great expense in emulating each other in their processions, and
some rivalry exists regarding their rights, over which the government
keeps a watchful eye, for all popular assemblies are its horror. The
shopkeepers and householders in the same street are required to have
a headman to superintend the police, watchmen, and beggars within his
limits. The rulers are sometimes thwarted in their designs by both
these forms of popular assemblies, and they no doubt tend in many ways
to keep up a degree of independence and of mutual acquaintance, which
compels the respect of the government. The governor of Canton in 1838
endeavored to search all the shops in a particular street, to ascertain
if there was opium in them; but the shopmen came in a body at the head
of the street, and told the policemen that they would on no account
permit their shops to be searched. The governor deemed it best to
retire. Those who will not join or agree to what the majority orders
in these bodies occasionally experience petty tyranny, but in a city
this must be comparatively trifling. Several of the leading men in the
city are known to hold meetings for consultation in still more popular
assemblies for different reasons of a public and pressing nature. There
is a building at Canton called the _Ming-lun Tang_, or “Free Discussion
Hall,” where political matters are discussed under the knowledge of
government, which rather tries to mould than put them down, for the
assistance of such bodies, rightly managed, in carrying out their
intentions, is considerable, while discontent would be roused if they
were forcibly suppressed. In October, 1842, meetings were held in this
hall, at one of which a public manifesto was issued, here quoted entire
as a specimen of the public appeals of Chinese politicians and orators:
~MANIFESTO ISSUED AGAINST THE ENGLISH.~
“We have been reverently consulting upon the Empire--a vast and
undivided whole! How can we permit it to be severed in order to give
it to others? Yet we, the rustic people, can learn to practise a rude
loyalty; we too know to destroy the banditti, and thus requite his
Majesty. Our Great Pure dynasty has cared for this country for more
than two hundred years, during which a succession of distinguished
monarchs, sage succeeding sage, has reigned; and we who eat the
herb of the field, and tread the soil, have for ages drank in the
dew of imperial goodness, and been imbued with its benevolence. The
people in wilds far remote beyond our influence have also felt this
goodness, comparable to the heavens for height, and been upheld by
this bounty, like the earth for thickness. Wherefore peace being now
settled in the country, ships of all lands come, distant though they
be from this for many a myriad of miles; and of all the foreigners
on the south and west there is not one but what enjoys the highest
peace and contentment, and entertains the profoundest respect and
submission.
“But there is that English nation, whose ruler is now a woman and
then a man, its people at one time like birds and then like beasts,
with dispositions more fierce and furious than the tiger or wolf,
and hearts more greedy than the snake or hog--this people has ever
stealthily devoured all the southern barbarians, and like the demon
of the night they now suddenly exalt themselves. During the reigns
of Kienlung and Kiaking these English barbarians humbly besought
entrance and permission to make a present; they also presumptuously
requested to have Chusan, but those divine personages, clearly
perceiving their traitorous designs, gave them a peremptory refusal.
From that time, linking themselves in with traitorous traders, they
have privily dwelt at Macao, trading largely in opium and poisoning
our brave people. They have ruined lives--how many millions none
can tell; and wasted property--how many thousands of millions who
can guess! They have dared again and again to murder Chinese, and
have secreted the murderers, whom they have refused to deliver up,
at which the hearts of all men grieved and their heads ached. Thus
it has been that for many years past the English, by their privily
watching for opportunities in the country, have gradually brought
things to the present crisis.
“In 1838, our great Emperor having fully learned all the crimes of
the English and the poisonous effects of opium, quickly wished to
restore the good condition of the country and compassionate the
people. In consequence of the memorial of Hwang Tsioh-sz’, and in
accordance to his request, he specially deputed the public-minded,
upright, and clear-headed minister, Lin Tseh-sü, to act as his
imperial commissioner with plenipotentiary powers, and go to Canton
to examine and regulate. He came and took all the stored-up opium
and stopped the trade, in order to cleanse the stream and cut off
the fountain; kindness was mixed with his severity, and virtue
was evident in his laws, yet still the English repented not of
their errors, and as the climax of their contumacy called troops
to their aid. The censor Hwang, by advising peace, threw down the
barriers, and bands of audacious robbers willingly did all kinds
of disreputable and villainous deeds. During the past three years
these rebels, depending upon their stout ships and effective cannon,
from Canton went to Fuhkien, thence to Chehkiang and on to Kiangsu,
seizing our territory, destroying our civil and military authorities,
ravishing our women, capturing our property, and bringing upon
the inhabitants of these four provinces intolerable miseries. His
Imperial Majesty was troubled and afflicted, and this added to his
grief and anxiety. If you wish to purify their crimes, all the fuel
in the Empire will not suffice, nor would the vast ocean be enough
to wash out our resentment. Gods and men are alike filled with
indignation, and Heaven and Earth cannot permit them to remain.
“Recently, those who have had the management of affairs in Kiangnan
have been imitating those who were in Canton, and at the gates of
the city they have willingly made an agreement, peeling off the fat
of the people to the tune of hundreds of myriads, and all to save
the precious lives of one or two useless officers; in doing which
they have exactly verified what Chancellor Kin Ying-lin had before
memorialized. Now these English rebels are barbarians dwelling in
a petty island beyond our domains; yet their coming throws myriads
of miles of country into turmoil, while their numbers do not exceed
a few myriads. What can be easier than for our celestial dynasty
to exert its fulness of power and exterminate these contemptible
sea-going imps, just as the blast bends the pliant bamboo? But our
highest officers and ministers cherish their precious lives, and
civil and military men both dread a dog as they would a tiger;
regardless of the enemies of their country or the griefs of the
people, they have actually sundered the Empire and granted its
wealth; acts more flagitious these than those of the traitors in
the days of the Southern Sung dynasty, and the reasons for which
are wholly beyond our comprehension. These English barbarians are
at bottom without ability, and yet we have all along seen in the
memorials that officers exalt and dilate upon their prowess and
obstinacy; our people are courageous and enthusiastic, but the
officers on the contrary say that they are dispirited and scattered:
this is for no other reason than to coerce our prince to make peace,
and then they will luckily avoid the penalty due for ‘deceiving the
prince and betraying the country.’ Do you doubt? Then look at the
memorial of Chancellor Kin Ying-lin, which says: ‘They take the
occasion of war to seek for self-aggrandizement;’ every word of which
directly points at such conduct as this.
“We have recently read in his Majesty’s lucid mandate that ‘There is
no other way, and what is requested must be granted;’ and that ‘We
have conferred extraordinary powers upon the ministers, and they have
done nothing but deceive us.’ Looking up we perceive his Majesty’s
clear discrimination and divine perception, and that he was fully
aware of the imbecility of his ministers; he remembers too the loyal
anger of his people. He has accordingly now temporarily settled all
the present difficulties, but it is that, having matured his plans,
he may hereafter manifest his indignation, and show to the Empire
that it had not fathomed the divine awe-inspiring counsels.
“The dispositions of these rebellious English are like that of the
dog or sheep, whose desires can never be satisfied; and therefore we
need not inquire whether the peace now made be real or pretended.
Remember that when they last year made disturbance at Canton they
seized the Square fort, and thereupon exhibited their audacity,
everywhere plundering and ravishing. If it had not been that the
patriotic inhabitants dwelling in Hwaitsing and other hamlets, and
those in Shingping, had not killed their leader and destroyed their
devilish soldiers, they would have scrupled at nothing, taking and
pillaging the city, and then firing it in order to gratify their
vengeance and greediness: can we imagine that for the paltry sum of
six millions of dollars they would, as they did, have raised the
siege and retired? How to be regretted! That when the fish was in the
frying-pan, the Kwangchau fu should come and pull away the firewood,
let loose the tiger to return to the mountains, and disarm the
people’s indignation. Letting the enemy thus escape on one occasion
has successively brought misery upon many provinces: whenever we
speak of it, it wounds the heart and causes the tears to flow.
“Last year, when the treaty of peace was made, it was agreed that
the English should withdraw from beyond Lankeet, that they should
give back the forts near there and dwell temporarily at Hongkong, and
that thenceforth all military operations were forever to cease. Who
would have supposed that before the time stipulated had passed away
they would have turned their backs upon this agreement, taken violent
possession of the forts at the Bogue with their ‘wooden dragons’
[_i.e._, ships of war]--and when they came upon the gates of the City
of Rams with their powerful forces, who was there to oppose them?
During these three years we have not been able to restore things as
at first, and their deceptive craftiness, then confined to these
regions, has rapidly extended itself to Kiangnan. But our high and
mighty Emperor, pre-eminently intelligent and discerning [_lit._
grasping the golden mirror and holding the gemmeous balances],
consents to demean himself to adopt soothing counsels of peace, and
therefore submissively accords with the decrees of Heaven. Having
a suspicion that these outlandish people intended to encroach upon
us, he has secretly arranged all things. We have respectfully read
through all his Majesty’s mandates, and they are as clear-sighted
as the sun and moon; but those who now manage affairs are like one
who, supposing the raging fire to be under, puts himself as much
at ease as swallows in a court, but who, if the calamity suddenly
reappears, would be as defenceless as a grampus in a fish-market. The
law adjudges the penalty of death for betraying the country, but how
can even death atone for their crimes? Those persons who have been
handed down to succeeding ages with honor, and those whose memories
have been execrated, are but little apart on the page of righteous
history; let our rulers but remember this, and we think they also
must exert themselves to recover their characters. We people have
had our day in times of great peace, and this age is one of abundant
prosperity; scholars are devising how to recompense the kindness of
the government, nor can husbandmen think of forgetting his Majesty’s
exertions for them. Our indignation was early excited to join battle
with the enemy, and we then all urged one another to the firmest
loyalty.
“We have heard the English intend to come into Pearl River and make
a settlement; this will not, however, stop at Chinese and foreigners
merely dwelling together, for men and beasts cannot endure each
other; it will be like opening the door and bowing in the thief, or
setting the gate ajar and letting the wolf in. While they were kept
outside there were many traitors within; how much more, when they
encroach even to our bedsides, will our troubles be augmented? We
cannot help fearing it will eventuate in something strange, which
words will be insufficient to express. If the rulers of other states
wish to imitate the English, with what can their demands be waived?
Consequently, the unreasonable demands of the English are going to
bring great calamity upon the people and deep sorrow to the country.
If we do not permit them to dwell with us under the same heaven, our
spirits will feel no shame; but if we willingly consent to live with
them, we may in truth be deemed insensate.
“We have reverently read in the imperial mandate, ‘There must indeed
be some persons among the people of extraordinary wisdom or bravery,
who can stir them up to loyalty and patriotism or unite them in
self-defence; some who can assist the government and army to recover
the cities, or else defend passes of importance against the robbers;
some who can attack and burn their vessels, or seize and bring the
heads of their doltish leaders; or else some with divine presence
and wisdom, who can disclose all their silly counsels and get to
themselves a name of surpassing merit and ability and receive the
highest rewards. We can confer,’ etc., etc. We, the people, having
received the imperial words, have united ourselves together as
troops, and practise the plan of joining hamlets and villages till
we have upward of a million of troops, whom we have provisioned
according to the scale of estimating the produce of respective farms;
and now we are fully ready and quite at ease as to the result. If
nothing calls us, then each one will return to his own occupation;
but if the summons come, joining our strength in force we will
incite each other to effort; our brave sons and brothers are all
animated to deeds of arms, and even our wives and daughters, finical
and delicate as jewels, have learned to discourse of arms. At first,
alas, those who guarded the passes were at ease and careless, and
the robbers came unbidden and undesired; but now [if they come], we
have only zealously to appoint each other to stations, and suppress
the rising of the waves to the stillest calm [_i.e._, to exterminate
them]. When the golden pool is fully restored to peace, and his
Majesty’s anxiety for the south relieved; when the leviathan has been
driven away, then will our anger, comparable to the broad ocean and
high heavens, be pacified.
“Ah! We here bind ourselves to vengeance, and express these our
sincere intentions in order to exhibit great principles; and also to
manifest Heaven’s retribution and rejoice men’s hearts, we now issue
this patriotic declaration. The high gods clearly behold: do not lose
your first resolution.”[261]
This spirited paper was subsequently answered by the party desirous
of peace, but the anti-English feeling prevailed, and the committee
appointed by the meeting set the English consulate on fire a few days
after, to prevent it being occupied. There were many reasons at the
time for this dislike; its further exhibition, however, ended with
this attack, and has now pretty much died out with the rising of a new
generation.
~POPULAR SECRET ASSOCIATIONS.~
The many secret associations existing among the people are mostly of a
political character, but have creeds like religious sects, and differ
slightly in their tenets and objects of worship. They are traceable
to the system of clans, which giving the people at once the habit and
spirit for associations, are easily made use of by clever men for their
own purposes of opposition to government. Similar grievances, as local
oppression, hatred of the Manchus, or hope of advantage, add to their
numbers and strength, and were they founded on a full acquaintance with
the grounds of a just resistance to despotism, they would soon overturn
the government; but as out of an adder’s egg only a cockatrice can be
hatched, so until the people are enlightened with regard to their just
rights, no permanent melioration can be expected. It is against that
leading feature in the Manchu policy, _isolation_, that these societies
sin, which further prompts to systematic efforts to suppress them.
The only objection the supreme government seems to have against the
religion of the people is that it brings them together; they may be
Buddhists, Rationalists, Jews, Mohammedans, or Christians, apparently,
if they will worship in secret and apart. On the other hand, the people
naturally connect some religious rites with their opposition and cabals
in order to more securely bind their members together.
The name of the most powerful of these associations is mentioned in
Section CLXII. of the code for the purpose of interdicting it; since
then it has apparently changed its designation from the _Pih-lien
kiao_, or ‘Water-lily sect,’ to the _Tien-tí hwui_ or _San-hoh hwui_,
_i.e._, ‘Triad society,’ though both names still exist, the former
in the northern, the latter in the maritime provinces and Indian
Archipelago; their ramifications take also other appellations. The
object of these combinations is to overturn the reigning dynasty, and
in putting this prominently forward they engage many to join them.
About the beginning of the century a wide-spread rebellion broke out
in the north-western and middle provinces, which was put down after
eight years’ war, attended with desolation and bloodshed; since that
time the Water-lily sect has not been so often spoken of. The Triad
society has extended itself along the coasts, but it is not popular,
owing more than anything else to its illegality, and the intimidation
and oppression employed toward those who will not join it. The members
have secret regulations and signs, and uphold and assist each other
both in good and bad acts, but, as might be inferred from their
character, screening evil doers from just punishment oftener than
relieving distressed members. The original designs of the association
may have been good, but what was allowable in them soon degenerated
into a systematic plan for plunder and aim at power. The government of
Hongkong enacted in 1845 that any Chinese living in that colony who was
ascertained to belong to the Triad society should be declared guilty of
felony, be imprisoned for three years, and after branding expelled the
colony. These associations, if they cause the government much trouble
by interfering with its operations, in no little degree, through the
overbearing conduct of the leaders, uphold it by showing the people
what may be expected if they should ever get the upper hand.[262]
~MEMORIAL UPON OFFICIAL OPPRESSION.~
The evils of mal-administration are to be learned chiefly from the
memorials of censors, and although they may color their statements
a little, very gross inaccuracies would be used to their own
disadvantage, and contradicted by so many competitors, that most of
their statements may be regarded as having some foundation. An unknown
person in Kwangtung memorialized the Emperor in 1838 concerning the
condition of that province, and drew a picture of the extortions of
the lower agents of government that needs no illustrations to deepen
its darkness or add force to its complaints. An extract from each
of the six heads into which the memorial is divided will indicate
the principal sources of popular insurrection in China, besides the
exhibition they give of the tyranny of the officers.
In his preface, after the usual laudation of the beneficence and
popularity of the monarch, the memorialist proceeds to express his
regret that the imperial desires for the welfare of his subjects
should be so grievously thwarted by the villany of his officers.
After mentioning the calamities which had visited the province in the
shape of freshets, insurrections, and conflagrations, he says that
affairs generally had become so bad as to compel his Majesty to send
commissioners to Canton repeatedly in order to regulate them. “If such
as this be indeed the state of things,” he inquires, “what wonder is it
if habits of plunder characterize the people, or the clerks and under
officers of the public courts, as well as village pettifoggers, lay
themselves out on all occasions to stir up quarrels and instigate false
accusations against the good?” He recommends reform in six departments,
under each of which he thus specifies the evils to be remedied:
_First._--In the department of police there is great negligence and
delay in the decision of judicial cases. Cases of plunder are very
common, most of which are committed by banditti under the designations
of Triad societies, Heaven and Earth brotherhoods, etc. These men
carry off persons to extort a ransom, falsely assume the character
of policemen, and in simulated revenue cutters pass up and down the
rivers, plundering the boats of travellers and forcibly carrying off
the women. Husbandmen are obliged to pay these robbers an “indemnity,”
or else as soon as the crops are ripe they come and carry off the whole
harvest. In the precincts of the metropolis, where their contiguity to
the tribunals prevents their committing depredations in open day, they
set fire to houses during the night, and under the pretence of saving
and defending the persons and property carry off both of them; hence,
of late years, calamitous fires have increased in frequency, and the
bands of robbers multiplied greatly. In cases of altercations among the
villagers, who can only use their local patois, it rests entirely with
the clerks to interpret the evidence; and when the magistrate is lax
or pressed with business, they have the evidence pre-arranged and join
with bullies and strife-makers to subvert right and wrong, fattening
themselves upon bribes extorted under the names of “memoranda of
complaints,” “purchases of replies,” etc., and retarding indefinitely
the decision of cases. They also instigate thieves to bring false
accusations against the good, who are thereby ruined by legal expenses.
While the officers of the government and the people are thus separated,
how can it be otherwise than that appeals to the higher tribunals
should be increased and litigation and strife prevail?
_Second._--Magistrates overrate the taxes with a view to a deduction
for their own benefit, and excise officers connive at non-payment. The
revenue of Kwangtung is paid entirely in money, and the magistrates,
instead of taking the commutation at a regular price of about five
dollars for one hundred and fifty pounds of rice, have compelled
the people to pay nine dollars and over, because the inundation and
bad harvests had raised the price of grain. In order to avoid this
extortion the police go to the villagers and demand a douceur, when
they will get them off from all payment. But the imperial coffers are
not filled by this means, and the people are by and by forced to pay up
their arrearages, even to the loss of most of their possessions.
_Third._--There is great mismanagement of the granaries, and instead of
being any assistance to the people in time of scarcity, they are only
a source of peculation for those who are charged with their oversight.
_Fourth._--The condition of the army and navy is a disgrace; illicit
traffic is not prevented, nor can insurrections be put down. The only
care of the officers is to obtain good appointments, and reduce the
actual number of soldiers below the register in order that they may
appropriate the stores. The cruisers aim only to get fees to allow the
prosecution of the contraband traffic, nor will the naval officers
bestir themselves to recover the property of plundered boats, but
rather become the protectors of the lawless and partakers of their
booty. Robberies are so common on the rivers that the traders from the
island of Hainan, and Chauchau near Fuhkien, prefer to come by sea,
but the revenue cutters overhaul them under pretence of searching for
contraband articles, and practise many extortions.
_Fifth._--The monopoly of salt needs to be guarded more strictly, and
the private manufacture of salt stopped, for thereby the revenue from
this source is materially diminished.
_Sixth._--The increase of smuggling is so great, and the evils flowing
from it so multiplied, that strong measures must be taken to repress
it. Traitorous Chinese combine with depraved foreigners to set the laws
at defiance, and dispose of their opium and other commodities for the
pure silver. In this manner the country is impoverished and every evil
arises, the revenues of the customs are diminished by the unnecessary
number of persons employed and by the fees they receive for connivance.
If all these abuses can be remedied, “it will be seen that when there
are men to rule well, nothing can be found beyond the reach of their
government.”
~FREQUENCY OF ROBBERY AND DAKOITY.~
The chief efforts of officials are directed to put down banditti,
and maintain such a degree of peace as will enable them to collect
the revenue and secure the people in the quiet possession of their
property; but the people are too ready to resist their rulers, and
this brings into operation a constant struggle of opposing desires. One
side gets into the habit of resisting even the proper requisitions of
the officers, who, on their part, endeavor in every way to reimburse
their outlay in bribes to their superiors; and the combined action
of the two proves an insurmountable impediment to the attainment of
even that degree of security a Chinese officer wishes. The general
commission of robbery and dakoity, and the prevalence of bands of
thieves, therefore proves the weakness of the government, not the
insurrectionary disposition of the people. In one district of Hupeh
the governor reported in 1828 that “very few of the inhabitants
have any regular occupation, and their dispositions are exceedingly
ferocious; they fight and kill each other on every provocation. In
their villages they harbor thieves who flee from other districts, and
sally forth again to plunder.” In the northern parts of Kwangtung the
people have erected high and strongly built houses to which they flee
for safety from the attacks of robbers. These bands sometimes fall
upon each other, and the feudal animosities of clanship adding fuel
and rage to the rivalry of partisan warfare, the destruction of life
and property is great. Occasionally the people zealously assist their
rulers to apprehend them, though their exertions depend altogether
upon the energy of the incumbent; an officer in Fuhkien is recommended
for promotion because he had apprehended one hundred and seventy-three
persons, part of a band of robbers which had infested the department
for years, and tried and convicted one thousand one hundred and sixty
criminals, most or all of whom were probably executed.
In 1821 there were four hundred robbers taken on the borders of
Fuhkien; in 1827 two hundred were seized in the south of the province,
and forty-one more brought to Canton from the eastward. The governor
offered $1,000 reward for the capture of one leader, and $3,000 for
another. The judge of the province put forth a proclamation upon the
subject in the same year, in which he says there were four hundred and
thirty undecided cases of robbery by brigands then on the calendar;
and in 1846 there were upward of two thousand waiting his decision,
for each of which there were perhaps five or six persons in prison
or under constraint until the case was settled. These bands prowl in
the large cities and commit great cruelties. In 1830 a party of five
hundred openly plundered a rich man’s house in the western suburbs
of Canton; and in Shunteh, south of the city, $600 were paid for the
ransom of two persons carried off by them. The ex-governor, in 1831,
was attacked by them near the Mei ling pass on his departure from
Canton, and plundered of about ten thousand dollars. The magistrates of
Hiangshan district, south of Canton, were ordered by their superiors
the same year to apprehend five hundred of the robbers. Priests
sometimes harbor gangs in their temples and divide the spoils with
them, and occasionally go out themselves on predatory excursions.
No mercy is shown these miscreants when they are taken, but the
multiplication of executions has no effect in deterring them from crime.
~DIFFICULTY IN COLLECTING TAXES.~
Cruelty to individual prisoners does not produce so much disturbance
to the general peace of the community as the forcible attempts of
officers to collect taxes. The people have the impression that their
rulers exact more than is legal, and consequently consider opposition
to the demands of the tax-gatherer as somewhat justifiable, which
compels, of course, more stringent measures on the part of the
authorities, whose station depends not a little on their punctuality in
remitting the taxes. Bad harvests, floods, or other public calamities
render the people still more disinclined to pay the assessments. In
1845 a serious disturbance arose near Ningpo on this account, which
with unimportant differences could probably be paralleled in every
prefecture in the land. The people of Funghwa hien having refused to
pay an onerous tax, the prefect of Ningpo seized three literary men
of the place, who had been deputed to collect it, and put them in
prison; this procedure so irritated the gentry that the candidates at
the literary examination which occurred at Funghwa soon afterward, on
being assembled at the public hall before the _chíhien_, rose upon
him and beat him severely. They were still further incensed against
him from having recently detected him in deceitful conduct regarding
a petition they had made at court to have their taxes lightened; he
had kept the answer and pocketed the difference. He was consequently
superseded by another magistrate, and a deputy of the intendant of
circuit was sent with the new incumbent to restore order. But the
deputy, full of his importance, carried himself so haughtily that the
excited populace treated him in the same manner, and he barely escaped
with his life to Ningpo. The intendant and prefect, finding matters
rising to such a pitch, sent a detachment of twelve hundred troops
to keep the peace, but part of these were decoyed within the walls
and attacked with such vigor that many of them were made prisoners, a
colonel and a dozen privates killed, and two or three hundred wounded
or beaten, and all deprived of their arms. In this plight they returned
to Ningpo, and, as the distance is not great, apprehensions were
entertained lest the insurgents should follow up their advantage by
organizing themselves and marching upon the city to seize the prefect.
The officers sent immediately to Hangchau for assistance, from whence
the governor sent a strong force of ten thousand men to restore order,
and soon after arrived himself. He demanded three persons to be given
up who had been active in fomenting the resistance, threatening in
case of non-compliance that he would destroy the town; the prefect
and his deputy from the intendant’s office were suspended and removed
to another post. These measures restored quiet to a considerable
extent.[263]
The existence of such evils in Chinese society would rapidly
disorganize it were it not for the conservative influence upon society
of early education and training in industry. The government takes care
to avail itself of this better element in public opinion, and grounds
thereon a basis of action for the establishment of good order. But
this, and ten thousand similar instances, only exhibit more strongly
how great a work there is to be done before high and low, people and
rulers, will understand their respective duties and rights; before
they will, on the one hand, pay that regard to the authority of their
rulers which is necessary for the maintenance of good order, and, on
the other, resist official tyranny in preserving their own liberties.
If the character of the officers, therefore, be such as has been
briefly shown--open to bribery, colluding with criminals, sycophantic
toward superiors, and cruel to the people; and the constituents of
society present so many repulsive features--opposing clans engaged
in deadly feuds, bandits scouring the country to rob, policemen
joining to oppress, truth universally disregarded, selfishness the
main principle of action, and almost every disorganizing element but
imperfectly restrained from violent outbreaks and convulsions, it will
not be expected that the regular proceedings of the courts and the
execution of the laws will prove on examination to be any better than
the materials of which they are composed. As civil and criminal cases
are all judged by one officer, one court tries nearly all the questions
which arise. A single exception is provided for in the code, wherein it
is ordered that “in cases of adultery, robbery, fraud, assaults, breach
of laws concerning marriage, landed property or pecuniary contracts,
or any other like offences committed by or against individuals in the
military class--if any of the people are implicated or concerned, the
military commanding officer and the civil magistrate shall have a
concurrent jurisdiction.”[264]
~CHARACTER OF JUDICIAL PROCEEDINGS.~
At the bottom of the judicial scale are the village elders. This
incipient element of the democratic principle has also existed in
India in much the same form; but while its power ended in the local
eldership there, in China it is only the lowest step of the scale.
The elders give character to the village, and are expected to manage
its public affairs, settle disputes among its inhabitants, arrange
matters with other villages, and answer to the magistrates on its
behalf. The code provides that all persons having complaints and
informations address themselves in the first instance to the lowest
tribunal of justice in the district, from which the cognizance of the
affair may be transferred to the superior tribunals. The statement of
the case is made in writing, and the officer is required to act upon
it immediately; if the parties are dissatisfied with the award, the
judgment of the lower courts is carried up to the superior ones. No
case can be carried directly to the Emperor; it must go through the
Board of Punishments; old men and women, however, sometimes present
petitions to him on his journeys, but such appeals seldom occur, owing
to the difficulty of access. The captains in charge of the gates of
Peking, in 1831, presented a memorial upon the subject, in which they
attribute the number of appeals to the obstinacy of many persons in
pressing their cases and the remissness of local officers, so that
even women and girls of ten years of age take long journeys to Peking
to state their cases. The memorialists recommend that an order be
issued requiring the two high provincial officers to adjudicate all
cases, either themselves or by a court of errors, and not send the
complainants back to the district magistrates. These official porters
must have been much troubled with young ladies coming to see his
Majesty, or perhaps were advised to present such a paper to afford a
text for the Emperor to preach from; to confer such power upon the
governor and his associates would almost make them the irresponsible
sovereigns of the provinces. Appeals frequently arise out of delay in
obtaining justice, owing to the amount of business in the courts; for
the calendar may be expected to increase when the magistrate leaves his
post to curry favor with his superiors. The almost utter impossibility
of learning the truth of the case brought before them, either from the
principal parties or the witnesses, must be borne in mind when deciding
upon the oppressive proceedings of the magistrates to elicit the truth.
Mention is made of one officer promoted for deciding three hundred
cases in a year; again of a district magistrate who tried upward of a
thousand within the same period; while a third revised and decided more
than six hundred in which the parties had appealed. What becomes of the
appeals in such cases, or whose decision stands, does not appear; but
if such proceedings are common, it accounts for the constant practice
of sending appeals back to be revised, probably after a change in the
incumbent.
Few or no civil cases are reported in the _Gazette_ as being carried
up to higher courts, and probably only a small proportion of them are
brought before the authorities, the rest being settled by reference.
Appeals to court receive attention, and it may be inferred, too,
that many of them are mentioned in the _Gazette_ in order that the
carefulness of the supreme government in revising the unjust decrees
against the people should be known through the country, and this
additional check to malversation on the part of the lower courts be of
some use. Many cases are reported of widows and daughters, sons and
nephews, of murdered persons, to whom the revenge of kindred rightly
belongs, appealing against the unjust decrees of the local magistrates,
and then sent back to the place they came from; this, of course, was
tantamount to a _nolle prosequi_. At other times the wicked judges have
been degraded and banished. One case is reported of a man who found his
way to the capital from Fuhkien to complain against the magistracy and
police, who protected a clan by whom his only son had been shot, in
consideration of a bribe of $2,000. His case could not be understood at
Peking in consequence of his local pronunciation, which indicates that
all cases are not reported in writing. One appeal is reported against
the governor of a province for not carrying into execution the sentence
of death passed on two convicted murderers; and another appellant
requests that two persons, who were bribed to undergo the sentence of
the law instead of the real murderers, might not be substituted--he,
perhaps, fearing their subsequent vengeance.
~STYLE OF OFFICIAL ESTABLISHMENTS.~
All officers of government are supposed to be accessible at any time,
and the door of justice to be open to all who claim a hearing; and in
fact, courts are held at all hours of night and day, though the regular
time is from sunrise to noonday. The style of address varies according
to the rank; _tajin_, or magnate, for the highest, _ta laoyé_, or
great Sir, and _laoyé_, Sir, for the lower grade, are the most common.
A drum is said to be placed at the inferior tribunals, as well as
before the Court of Representation in Peking, which the plaintiff
strikes in order to make his presence known, though from the number of
hangers-on about the doors of official residences, the necessity of
employing this mode of attracting notice is rare. At the gate of the
governor-general’s palace are placed six tablets, having appropriate
inscriptions for those who have been wronged by wicked officers; for
those who have suffered from thieves; for persons falsely accused; for
those who have been swindled; for such as have been grieved by other
parties; and lastly, for those who have secret information to impart.
The people, however, are aware how useless it would be to inscribe
their appeals upon these tablets; they write them out and carry them
up to his excellency, or to the proper official--seldom forgetting the
indispensable present.
[Illustration: Mode of Carrying High Officers in Sedan.]
Magistrates are not allowed to go abroad in ordinary dress and without
their official retinue, which varies for the different grades of
rank. The usual attendants of the district magistrates are lictors
with whips and chains--significant of the punishments they inflict;
they are preceded by two gong-bearers, who every few moments strike
a certain number of raps to intimate their master’s rank, and by two
avant-couriers, who howl out an order for all to make room for the
great man. A servant bearing aloft a _lo_, or state umbrella (of which
a drawing is given on the title-page), also goes before him, further to
increase his display and indicate his rank.[265] A subaltern usually
runs by the side of his sedan, and his secretary and messengers, seated
in more ordinary chairs or following on foot, make up the cortége. The
highest officers are carried by eight bearers, others by four, and
the lowest by two. Lanterns are used at night and red tablets in the
daytime, to indicate his rank. Officers of higher ranks are attended by
a few soldiers in addition, and in the capital are required to have
mounted attendants if they ride in carts; those who bear the sedan are
usually in a uniform of their master’s devising. The parade and noise
seen in the provinces are all hushed in Peking, where the presence of
majesty subdues the glory of the officers which it has created. When
in court the officer sits behind a desk upon which are placed writing
materials; his secretaries, clerks, and interpreters being in waiting,
and the lictors with their instruments of punishment and torture
standing around. Persons who are brought before him kneel in front of
the tribunal. His official seal, and cups containing tallies which are
thrown down to indicate the number of blows to be given the culprits,
stand upon the table, and behind his seat a _kí-lin_, or unicorn, is
depicted on the wall. There are inscriptions hanging around the room,
one of which exhorts him to be merciful. There is little pomp or show,
either in the office or attendants, compared with our notions of
what is usual in such matters among Asiatics. The former is a dirty,
unswept, tawdry room, and the latter are beggarly and impertinent.
~MODE OF PROCEDURE IN LAW COURTS.~
No counsel is allowed to plead, but the written accusations, pleas,
or statements required must be prepared by licensed notaries, who may
also read them in court, and who, no doubt, take opportunity to explain
circumstances in favor of their client. These notaries buy their
situations, and repay themselves by a fee upon the documents; they are
the only persons who are analogous to the lawyers in western countries,
and most of them have the reputation of extorting largely for their
services. Of course there is no such thing as a jury, or a chief
justice stating the case to associate judges to learn their opinion;
nor is anything like an oath required of the witnesses.
The presiding officer can call in others to assist him in the trial
to any extent he pleases. In one Canton court circular it is stated
that no less than sixteen officers assisted the governor-general
and governor in the trial of one criminal. The report of the trial
is as summary as the recital of the bench of judges is minute: “H.
E. Gov. Tăng arrived to join the futai in examining a criminal;
and at 8 A.M., under a salute of guns, the doors of the great hall
of audience were thrown open, and their excellencies took their
seats, supported by all the other functionaries assembled for the
occasion. The police officers of the judge were then directed to bring
forward the prisoner, Yeh A-shun, a native of Tsingyuen hien; he was
forthwith brought in, tried, and led out. The futai then requested
the imperial death-warrant, and sent a deputation of officers to
conduct the criminal to the market-place and there decapitate him.
Soon after the officers returned, restored the death-warrant to its
place, and reported that they had executed the criminal.” The prisoner,
or his friends for him, are allowed to appear in every step of the
inquiry prior to laying the case before the Emperor, and punishment is
threatened to all the magistrates through whose hands it passes if they
neglect the appeal; but this extract shows the usage of the courts.
[Illustration: PRISONER CONDEMNED TO THE CANGUE, IN COURT.
(His son praying to take his place.)]
The general policy of officers is to quash cases and repress appeals,
and probably they do so to a great degree by bringing extorted
confessions of the accused party and the witnesses in proof of the
verdict. Governor Lí of Canton issued a prohibition in 1834 against
the practice of old men and women presenting petitions--complaining
of the nuisance of having his chair stopped in order that a petition
might be forced into it, and threatening to seize and punish the
presumptuous intruders if they persisted in this custom. He instructs
the district magistrates to examine such persons, to ascertain who
pushed them forward, and to punish the instigators, observing, “if the
people are impressed with a due dread of punishment, they will return
to respectful habits.” It seems to be the constant effort on the part
of the officers to evade the importunities of the injured and shove
by justice, and were it not owing to the perseverance of the people,
a system of irremediable oppression would soon be induced. But the
poor have little chance of being heard against the rich, and if they
do appeal they are in most cases remanded to the second judgment of
the very officer against whom they complain; and of course as this is
equivalent to a refusal from the high grades to right them at all,
commotions gradually grow out of it, which are managed according to the
exigencies of the case by those who are likely to be involved in their
responsibility. The want of an irresistible police to compel obedience
has a restraining effect on the rulers, who know that Lynch law may
perhaps be retaliated upon them if they exasperate the people too far.
A prefect was killed in Chauchau fu some years ago for his cruelty,
and the people excused their act by saying that it was done because
the officer had failed to carry out the Emperor’s good rule, and they
would not endure it longer. Amid such enormities it is no wonder if the
peaceably disposed part of the community prefer to submit in silence
to petty extortions and robberies, rather than risk the loss of all by
unavailing complaints.
The code contains many sections regulating the proceedings of courts,
and provides heavy punishments for such officers as are guilty of
illegalities or cruelty in their decisions, but the recorded cases
prove that most of these laws are dead letters. Section CCCCXVI.
ordains that “after a prisoner has been tried and convicted of any
offence punishable with temporary or perpetual banishment or death, he
shall, in the last place, be brought before the magistrate, together
with his nearest relations and family, and informed of the offence
whereof he stands convicted, and of the sentence intended to be
pronounced upon him in consequence; their acknowledgment of its justice
or protest against its injustice, as the case may be, shall then be
taken down in writing: and in every case of their refusing to admit
the justice of the sentence, their protest shall be made the ground
of another and more particular investigation.” All capital cases must
be reviewed by the highest authorities at the metropolis and in the
provinces, and a final report of the case and decision submitted to the
Emperor’s notice. Section CCCCXV. requires that the law be quoted when
deciding. The numerous wise and merciful provisions in the code for the
due administration of justice only place the conduct of its authorized
executives in a less excusable light, and prove how impossible it is
to procure an equitable magistracy by mere legal requirements and
penalties.
~MODES AND EXTENT OF TORTURING CULPRITS.~
The confusion of the civil and criminal laws in the code, and the union
of both functions in the same person, together with the torture and
imprisonment employed to elicit a confession, serve as an indication
of the state of legislation and jurisprudence. The common sense of a
truthful people would revolt against the infliction of torture to get
out the true deposition of a witness, and their sense of honor would
resist the disgraceful exposure of the cangue for not paying debts.
As the want of truth among a people indicates a want of honor, the
necessity of more stringent modes of procedure suggests the practice of
torture; its application is allowed and restricted by several sections
of the code, but in China, as elsewhere, it has always been abused.
Torture is practised upon both criminals and witnesses, in court and
in prison; and the universal dread among the people of coming before
courts, and having anything to do with their magistrates, is owing in
great measure to the illegal sufferings they too often must endure. It
has also a powerful deterrent effect in preventing crime and disorder.
Neither imprisonment nor torture are ranked among the five punishments,
but they cause more deaths, probably, among arrested persons than all
other means.
Among the modes of torture employed in court, and reported in the
_Gazette_, are some revolting to humanity, but which of them are legal
does not appear. The clauses under Section I. in the code describe
the legal instruments of torture; they consist of three boards with
proper grooves for compressing the ankles, and five round sticks for
squeezing the fingers, to which may be added the bamboo; besides these
no instruments of torture are legally allowed, though other ways of
putting the question are so common as to give the impression that some
of them at least are sanctioned. Pulling or twisting the ears with
roughened fingers, and keeping them in a bent position while making
the prisoner kneel on chains, or making him kneel for a long time,
are among the illegal modes. Striking the lips with sticks until they
are nearly jellied, putting the hands in stocks before or behind the
back, wrapping the fingers in oiled cloth to burn them, suspending the
body by the thumbs and fingers, tying the hands to a bar under the
knees, so as to bend the body double, and chaining by the neck close
to a stone, are resorted to when the prisoner is contumacious. One
magistrate is accused of having fastened up two criminals to boards by
nails driven through their palms; one of them tore his hands loose
and was nailed up again, which caused his death; using beds of iron,
boiling water, red hot spikes, and cutting the tendon Achilles are
also charged against him, but the Emperor exonerated him on account
of the atrocious character of the criminals. Compelling them to kneel
upon pounded glass, sand, and salt mixed together, until the knees
become excoriated, or simply kneeling upon chains is a lighter mode
of the same infliction. Mr. Milne mentions seeing a wretch undergoing
this torture, his hands tied behind his back to a stake held in its
position by two policemen; if he swerved to relieve the agony of his
position, a blow on his head compelled him to resume it. The agonies of
the poor creature were evident from his quivering lips, his pallid and
senseless countenance, and his tremulous voice imploring relief, which
was refused with a cold, mocking command, “Suffer or confess.”[266]
Flogging is one of the five authorized punishments, but it is used more
than any other means to elicit confession; the bamboo, rattan, cudgel,
and whip are all employed. When death ensues the magistrate reports
that the criminal died of sickness, or hushes it up by bribing his
friends, few of whom are ever allowed access within the walls of the
prison to see and comfort the sufferers. From the manner in which such
a result is spoken of it may be inferred that immediate death does not
often take place from torture. A magistrate in Sz’chuen being abused by
a man in court, who also struck the attendants, ordered him to be put
into a coffin which happened to be near, when suffocation ensued; he
was in consequence dismissed the service, punished one hundred blows,
and transported three years. One check on outrageous torture is the
fear that the report of their cruelty will come to the ears of their
superiors, who are usually ready to avail of any mal-administration to
get an officer removed, in order to fill the post. In this case, as in
other parts of Chinese government, the dread of one evil prevents the
commission of another.
~THE FIVE LEGAL PUNISHMENTS.~
The five kinds of punishment mentioned in the code are from ten to
fifty blows with the lesser bamboo, from fifty to one hundred with the
greater, transportation, perpetual banishment, and death, each of them
modified in various ways. The small bamboo weighs about two pounds,
the larger two and two-thirds pounds. Public exposure in the _kia_, or
cangue, is considered rather as a kind of censure or reprimand than a
punishment, and carries no disgrace with it, nor comparatively much
bodily suffering if the person be fed and screened from the sun. The
frame weighs between twenty and thirty pounds, and is so made as to
rest upon the shoulders without chafing the neck, but so broad as to
prevent the person feeding himself. The name, residence, and offence
of the delinquent are written upon it for the information of every
passer-by, and a policeman is stationed over him to prevent escape.
Branding is applied to deserters and banished persons. Imprisonment and
fines are not regarded as legal punishments, but rather correctives;
and flogging, as Le Comte says, “is never wanting, there being no
condemnation in China without this previous disposition, so that it
is unnecessary to mention it in their condemnation; this being always
understood to be their first dish.” When a man is arrested he is
effectually prevented from breaking loose by putting a chain around his
neck and tying his hands.
[Illustration: Mode of Exposure in the Cangue.]
Most punishments are redeemable by the payment of money if the criminal
is under fifteen or over seventy years of age, and a table is given
in the code for the guidance of the magistrate in such cases. An act
of grace enables a criminal condemned even to capital punishment to
redeem himself, if the offence be not one of wilful malignity; but
better legislation would have shown the good effects of not making the
punishments so severe. It is also ordered in Section XVIII., that “any
offender under sentence of death for a crime not excluded from the
contingent benefit of an act of grace, who shall have infirm parents
or grandparents alive over seventy years of age, and no other male
child over sixteen to support them, shall be recommended to the mercy
of his Majesty; and if only condemned to banishment, shall receive one
hundred blows and redeem himself by a fine.” Many atrocious laws may
be forgiven for one such exhibition of regard for the care of decrepid
parents. Few governments exhibit such opposing principles of actions as
the Chinese: a strange blending of cruelty to prisoners with a maudlin
consideration of their condition, and a constant effort to coax the
people to obedience while exercising great severity upon individuals,
are everywhere manifest. One who has lived in the country long,
however, knows well that they are not to be held in check by rope-yarn
laws or whimpering justices, and unless the rulers are a terror to
evil-doers, the latter will soon get the upper hand. Dr. Field well
considers this point in his interesting notes describing his visit to a
_yamun_ at Canton.[267] The general prosperity of the Empire proves in
some measure the equity of its administration.
~CORRECTION OF MINOR OFFENCES.~
Banishment and slavery are punishments for minor official
delinquencies, and few officers who live long in the Emperor’s
employ do not take an involuntary journey to Mongolia, Turkestan, or
elsewhere, in the course of their lives. The fates and conduct of
banished criminals are widely unlike; some doggedly serve out their
time, others try to ingratiate themselves with their masters in order
to alleviate or shorten the time of service, while hundreds contrive
to escape and return to their homes, though this subjects them to
increased punishment. Persons banished for treason are severely dealt
with if they return without leave, and those convicted of crime in
their place of banishment are increasingly punished; one man was
sentenced to be outlawed for an offence at his place of banishment,
but seeing that his aged mother had no other support than his labor,
the Emperor ordered that a small sum should be paid for her living out
of the public treasury. Whipping a man through the streets as a public
example to others is frequently practised upon persons detected in
robbery, assault, or some other minor offences. The man is manacled,
and one policeman goes before him carrying a tablet, on which are
written his name, crime, and punishment, accompanied by another holding
a gong. In some cases little sticks bearing flags are thrust through
his ears, and the lictor appointed to oversee the fulfilment of the
sentence follows the executioner, who strikes the criminal with his
whip or rattan as the rap on the gong denotes that the appointed number
is not yet complete.
[Illustration: Publicly Whipping a Thief through the Streets.]
~MANNER OF PUBLIC EXECUTIONS.~
Decapitation and strangling are the legal modes of executing criminals,
though Kí Kung having taken several incendiaries at Canton, in 1843,
who were convicted of firing the city for purposes of plunder, starved
them to death in the public squares of the city. The least disgraceful
mode of execution is strangulation, which is performed by tying a
man to a post and tightening the cord which goes round his neck by
a winch; the infliction is very speedy, and apparently less painful
than hanging. The least crime for which death is awarded appears to
be a third and aggravated theft, and defacing the branding inflicted
for former offences. Decollation is considered more disgraceful than
strangling, owing to the dislike the Chinese have of dissevering the
bodies which their parents gave them entire. There are two modes of
decapitation, that of simple decollation being considered, again,
as less disgraceful than being “cut into ten thousand pieces,” as
the phrase _ling chih_ has been rendered. The military officer who
superintends the execution is attended by a guard, to keep the populace
from crowding upon the limits and prevent resistance on the part of the
prisoners. The bodies are given up to the friends, except when the head
is exposed as a warning in a cage where the crime was committed. If no
one is present to claim the corpse it is buried in the public pit. The
criminals are generally so far exhausted that they make no resistance,
and submit to their fate without a groan--much more, without a dying
speech to the spectators. In ordinary cases the executions are
postponed until the autumnal assize, when the Emperor revises and
confirms the sentences of the provincial governors; criminals guilty
of extraordinary offences, as robbery attended with murder, arson,
rape, breaking into fortifications, highway robbery, and piracy, may
be immediately beheaded without reference to court, and as the expense
of maintenance and want of prison room are both to be considered, it
is the fact that criminals condemned for one or other of these crimes
comprise the greater part of the unreferred executions in the provinces.
It is impossible to ascertain the number of persons executed in
China, for the life of a condemned criminal is thought little of; in
the court circular it is merely reported that “the execution of the
criminals was completed,” without mentioning their crimes, residences,
or names. At the autumnal revises at Peking the number sentenced is
given in the _Gazette_; 935 were sentenced in 1817, of which 133 were
from the province of Kwangtung; in 1826 there were 581; in 1828 the
number was 789, and in the next year 579 names were marked off, none of
whose crimes, it is inferrible, are included in the list of offences
mentioned above. The condemnations are sent from the capital by
express, and the executions take place immediately. Most of the persons
condemned in a province are executed in its capital, and to hear of
the death of a score or more of felons on a single day is no uncommon
thing. The trials are more speedy than comports with our notions of
justice, and the executions are performed in the most summary manner.
It is reported on one occasion that the governor-general of Canton
ascended his judgment-seat, examined three prisoners brought before
him, and having found them guilty, condemned them, asked himself for
the death-warrant (for he temporarily filled the office of governor),
and, having received it, had the three men carried away in about two
hours after they were first brought before him. A few days after he
granted the warrant to execute a hundred bandits in prison. During the
terrible rebellion in Kwangtung, in 1854-55, the prisoners taken by
the Imperialists were usually transported to Canton for execution. In
a space of fourteen months, up to January, 1856, about eighty-three
thousand malefactors suffered death in that city alone, besides those
who died in confinement; these men were arrested and delivered to
execution by their countrymen, who had suffered untold miseries through
their sedition and rapine.
When taken to execution the prisoners are clothed in clean
clothes.[268] A military officer is present, and the criminals are
brought on the ground in hod-like baskets hanging from a pole borne
of two, or in cages, and are obliged to kneel toward the Emperor’s
residence, or toward the death-warrant, which indicates his presence,
as if thanking their sovereign for his care. The list is read aloud
and compared with the tickets on the prisoners; as they kneel, a
lictor seizes their pinioned hands and jerks them upward so that the
head is pushed down horizontally, and a single down stroke with the
heavy hanger severs it from the neck. In the slow and ignominious
execution, or _ling chih_, the criminal is tied to a cross and hacked
to pieces; the executioner is nevertheless often hired to give the
coup-de-grace at the first blow. It is not uncommon for him to cut out
the gall-bladder of notorious robbers and sell it, to be eaten as a
specific for courage. There is an official executioner besides the real
one, the latter being sometimes a criminal taken out of the prisons.
~ATROCIOUS MANAGEMENT OF PRISONS.~
Probably the number of persons who suffer by the sword of the
executioner is not one-half of those who die from the effects of
torture and privations in prisons. Not much is known of the internal
arrangement of the _hells_, as prisons are called; they seem to be
managed with a degree of kindness and attention to the comfort of the
prisoners, so far as the intentions of government are concerned, but
the cruelties of the turnkeys and older prisoners to exact money from
the new comers are terrible. In Canton there are jails in the city
under the control of four different officers, the largest covering
about an acre, and capable of holding upward of five hundred prisoners.
Since it is the practice of distant magistrates to send their worst
prisoners up to the capital, these jails are not large enough, and jail
distempers arise from over-crowding; two hundred deaths were reported
in 1826 from this and other causes, and one hundred and seventeen
cases in 1831. Private jails were hired to accommodate the number, and
one governor reports having found twenty-two such places in Canton
where every kind of cruelty was practised. The witnesses and accusers
concerned in appellate causes had, he says, also been brought up to
the city and imprisoned along with the guilty party, where they were
kept months without any just reason. In one case, where a defendant and
plaintiff were imprisoned together, the accuser fell upon the other and
murdered him. Sometimes the officer is unable from press of business
to attend to a case, and confines all the principals and witnesses
concerned until he can examine them, but the government takes no means
to provide for them during the interval, and many of the poorer ones
die. No security or bail is obtainable on the word of a witness or his
friends, so that if unable to fee the jailers he is in nearly as bad a
case as the criminal. Extending bail to an accused criminal is nearly
unknown, but female prisoners are put in charge of their husbands or
parents, who are held responsible for their appearance. The constant
succession of criminals in the provincial head prison renders the
posts of jailers and turnkeys very lucrative. The letters of the Roman
Catholic missionaries from China during the last century, found in the
_Lettres Édifiantes_ and _Annales de la Foi_, contain many sad pictures
of the miseries of prison life there.
The prisons are arranged somewhat on the plan of a large stable, having
an open central court occupying nearly one-fourth of the area, and
small cribs or stalls covered by a roof extending nearly around it, so
contrived that each company of prisoners shall be separated from its
neighbors on either side night and day, though more by night than by
day. The prisoners cook for themselves in the court, and are secured
by manacles and gyves, and a chain joining the hands to the neck;
one hand is liberated in the daytime in order to allow them to take
care of themselves. Heinous criminals are more heavily ironed, and
those in the prisons attached to the judge’s office are worse treated
than the others. Each criminal should receive a daily ration of two
pounds of rice, and about two cents with which to buy fuel, but the
jailer starves them on half this allowance if they are unable to fee
him; clothing is also scantily provided, but those who have money can
procure almost every convenience. Each crib full of criminals is under
the control of a turnkey, who with a few old offenders spends much time
torturing newly arrived persons to force money from them, by which many
lose their lives, and all suffer far more in this manner than they do
from the officers of government. Well may the people call their prisons
hells, and say, when a man falls into the clutches of the jailers or
police, “the flesh is under the cleaver.”
There are many processes for the recovery of debts and fulfilment of
contracts, some legal and others customary, the latter depending upon
many circumstances irrelevant to the merits of the case. The law allows
that debtors be punished by bambooing according to the amount of the
debt. A creditor often resorts to illegal means to recover his claim,
which give rise to many excesses; sometimes he quarters himself upon
the debtor’s family or premises, at others seizes him or some of his
family and keeps them prisoners, and, in extreme cases, sells them.
Unscrupulous debtors are equally skilful and violent in eluding,
cheating, and resisting their incensed creditors, according as they
have the power. They are liable, when three months have expired after
the stipulated time of payment, to be bambooed, and their property
attached. In most cases, however, disputes of this sort are settled
without recourse to government, and if the debtor is really without
property, he is not imprisoned till he can procure it. The effects of
absconding debtors are seized and divided by those who can get them.
Long experience, moreover, of each other’s characters has taught
them, in contracting debts, to have some security at the outset, and
therefore in settling up there is not so much loss as might be supposed
considering the difficulty of collecting debts. Accusations for libel,
slander, breach of marriage contract, and other civil or less criminal
offences are not all brought before the authorities, but are settled by
force or arbitration among the people themselves and their elders.
The nominal salaries of Chinese officers have already been stated (p.
294). It is a common opinion among the people that on an average they
receive about ten times their salaries; in some cases they pay thirty,
forty and more thousand dollars beforehand for the situation. One
encouragement to the harassing vexations of the official secretaries
and police is the dislike of the people to carry their cases before
officers who they know are almost compelled to fleece and peel them;
they think it cheaper and safer to bear a small exaction from an
underling than run the risk of a greater from his master.
If the preventives against popular violence which the supreme
government has placed around itself could be strengthened by an
efficient military force, its power would be well secured indeed;
but then, as in Russia, it would probably become, by degrees, an
intolerable tyranny. The troops are, in fact, everywhere present,
ostensibly to support the laws, protect the innocent, and punish the
guilty; such of them as are employed by the authorities as guards and
policemen are, on the whole, efficient and courteous, though miserably
paid, while the regiments in garrison are contemptible to both friend
and foe.
The efficacy of the system of checks upon the high courts and
provincial officers is increased by their intrigues and conflicting
ambition, and long experience has shown that the Emperor’s power has
little to fear from proconsular rebellion. The inefficiency of the
army is a serious evil to the people in one respect, for more power in
that arm would repress banditti and pirates; while the sober part of
the community would coöperate in a hearty effort to quell them. The
greatest difficulty the Emperor finds in upholding his authority lies
in the general want of integrity in the officers he employs; good laws
may be made, but he has few upright agents to execute them. This has
been abundantly manifested in the laws against opium and gambling;
no one could be found to carry them into execution, though everybody
assented to their propriety.
~LATENT INFLUENCE OF PUBLIC OPINION.~
The chief security on the side of the people against an unmitigated
oppression such as now exists in Turkey, besides those already pointed
out, lies as much as anywhere in their general intelligence of the true
principles on which the government is founded and should be executed.
With public opinion on its side the government is a strong one, but
none is less able to execute its designs when it runs counter to that
opinion, although those designs may be excellent and well intended.
Elements of discord are found in the social system which would soon
effect its ruin were they not counteracted by other influences, and
the body politic goes on like a heavy, shackly, lumbering van, which
every moment threatens a crashing, crumbling fall, yet goes on still
tottering, owing to the original goodness of its construction. From
the enormous population of this ancient van, it is evident that any
attempt to remodel it must seriously affect one or the other of its
parts, and that when once upset it may be impossible to reconstruct it
in its original form. There is encouragement to hope that the general
intelligence and shrewdness of the government and people of China,
their language, institutions, industry, and love of peace, will all
act as powerful conservative influences in working out the changes
which cannot now be long delayed; and that she will maintain her unity
and industry while going through a thorough reform of her political,
social, and religious systems.
It is very difficult to convey to the reader a fair view of the
administration of the laws in China. Notwithstanding the cruelty
of officers to the criminals before them, they are not all to be
considered as tyrants; because insurrections arise, attended with
great loss of life, it must not be supposed that society is everywhere
disorganized; the Chinese are so prone to falsify that it is difficult
to ascertain the truth, yet it must not be inferred that every sentence
is a lie; selfishness is a prime motive for their actions, yet charity,
kindness, filial affection, and the unbought courtesies of life still
exist among them. Although there is an appalling amount of evil and
crime in every shape, it is mixed with some redeeming traits; and in
China, as elsewhere, good and bad are intermingled. Some of the evils
in the social system arise from the operation of the principles of
mutual responsibility, while this very feature produces sundry good
effects in restraining people who have no higher motive than the fear
of injuring the innocent. We hear so much of the shocking cruelties of
courts and prisons that the vast number of cases before the bench are
all supposed to exhibit the same fatiguing reiteration of suffering,
injustice, bribery, and cruelty. One must live in the country to see
how the antagonistic principles found in Chinese society act and react
upon each other, and are affected by the wicked passions of the heart.
Officers and people are bad almost beyond belief to one conversant
only with the courtesy, justice, purity, and sincerity of Christian
governments and society; and yet we think they are not as bad as the
old Greeks and Romans, and have no more injustice or torture in their
courts, nor impurity or mendacity in their lives. As in our own land
we are apt to forget that the recitals of crimes and outrages which
the daily papers bring before our eyes furnish no index of the general
condition of society, so in China, where that condition is immeasurably
worse, we must be mindful that this is likewise true.
FOOTNOTES:
[240] _Chinese Repository_, Vol. VI., p. 48.
[241] _Chinese Repository_, Vol. IV., p. 59.
[242] _Embassy to China_, Vol. III., p. 26.
[243] _Chinese Repository_, Vol. III., p. 241.
[244] _Chinese Repository_, Vol. IV., pp. 61-66.
[245] Compare Dr. Bowring in _N. C. Br. R. A. Soc. Journal_, Part III.,
Art. VII. (Dec., 1852).
[246] _Chinese Repository_, passim. Oliphant, _Lord Elgin’s Mission
to China and Japan_, Chap. XVII. Minister Reed, in _U. S. Dip.
Correspondence_, 1857-58.
[247] The Chinese have a great affection for the place of their
nativity, and consider a residence in any other province like being in
a foreign settlement. They always wish to return thither in life, or
have their remains carried and interred there after death.
[248] A district in the province of Kwangsí.
[249] Kiuh Kiang was an ancient minister of state during the Tang
dynasty. His imperial master would not listen to his advice and he
therefore retired. Rebellion and calamities arose. The Emperor thought
of his faithful servant and sent for him; but he was already dead.
[250] Governor Loo.
[251] In permitting Chu to retire from public life.
[252] _Chinese Repository_, Vol. IV., p. 71.
[253] _Annales de la Foi_, No. 6, 1823, pp. 21-24.
[254] _Chinese Repository_, Vol. I., p. 236.
[255] _Easy Lessons in Chinese_, pp. 223-227. The effect of these
instructions relating to grasshoppers does not appear to have equalled
the zeal of the officers composing them; swarms of locusts, however,
are in general neither numerous nor devastating in China.
[256] _A new History of China, containing a description of the
most considerable particulars of that Empire, written by_ Gabriel
Magaillans, _of the Society of Jesus, Missionary Apostolick. Done out
of French._ London, 1688, p. 249.
[257] Compare the _Chinese Repository_, Vol. XVIII., p. 207.
[258] _Chinese Repository_, Vol. IV., p. 218.
[259] Compare Doolittle, _Social Life of the Chinese_, Vol. I., p. 330.
[260] Heeren, _Asiatic Nations_, Vol. II., p. 259. Raffles, _Java_,
Vol. II. App. Biot, _L’Instruction publique_, pp. 59, 200.
[261] _Chinese Repository_, Vol. XI., p. 630.
[262] Compare Dr. Milne, in _Transactions R. A. S. of Gr. Brit. and
Irel._, Vol. I., p. 240 (1825). _Journal of the R. A. S._, Vol. I.,
p. 93, and Vol. VI., p. 120. _Chinese Repository_, Vol. XVIII., pp.
280-295. A. Wylie, in the _Shanghai Almanac for 1854_. _Notes and
Queries on C. and J._, Vol. III., p. 55. T. T. Meadows, _The Chinese
and their Rebellions_, London, 1856. Gustave Schlegel, _Thian Ti Hwui,
the Hung-League or Heaven-Earth-League. A Secret Society with the
Chinese in China and India_, Batavia, 1866.
[263] _Missionary Chronicle_, Vol. XIV., p. 140. Smith’s _China_, p.
250.
[264] For cases of this sort in Cambodia, Rémusat makes mention of a
variety of ordeals which curiously resemble those resorted to on the
continent of Europe during the Middle Ages. _Nouveaux Mélanges_, Tome
I., p. 126.
[265] Heeren informs us that a similar insignia was used in Persia in
early days.
[266] W. C. Milne, _Life in China_, London, 1857, p. 99.
[267] Dr. H. M. Field, _From Egypt to Japan_, Chap. XXIV., passim. New
York, 1877. _Chinese Repository_, Vol. IV., pp. 214, 260.
[268] Persons who commit suicide also dress themselves in their best,
the common notion being that in the next world they will wear the same
garments in which they died.
CHAPTER IX.
EDUCATION AND LITERARY EXAMINATIONS.
Among the points relating to the Chinese people which have attracted
the attention of students in the history of intellectual development,
their long duration and literary institutions have probably taken
precedence. To estimate the causes of the first requires much knowledge
of the second, and from them one is gradually led onward to an
examination of the government, religion, and social life of this people
in the succeeding epochs of their existence. The inquiry will reveal
much that is instructive, and show us that, if they have not equalled
many other nations in the arts and adornments of life, they have
attained a high degree of comfort and developed much that is creditable
in education, the science of rule, and security of life and property.
Although the powers of mind exhibited by the greatest writers in China
are confessedly inferior to those of Greece and Rome for genius and
original conceptions, the good influence exerted by them over their
countrymen is far greater, even at this day, than was ever obtained
by western sages, as Plato, Aristotle, or Seneca. The thoroughness of
Chinese education, the purity and effectiveness of the examinations,
or the accuracy and excellency of the literature must not be compared
with those of modern Christian countries, for there is really no common
measure between the two; they must be taken with other parts of Chinese
character, and comparisons drawn, if necessary, with nations possessing
similar opportunities. The importance of generally instructing the
people was acknowledged even before the time of Confucius, and
practised to a good degree at an age when other nations in the world
had no such system; and although in his day feudal institutions
prevailed, and offices and rank were not attainable in the same manner
as at present, on the other hand magistrates and noblemen deemed it
necessary to be well acquainted with their ancient writings. It is
said in the _Book of Rites_ (B.C. 1200), “that for the purposes of
education among the ancients, villages had their schools, districts
their academies, departments their colleges, and principalities their
universities.” This, so far as we know, was altogether superior to what
obtained among the Jews, Persians, and Syrians of the same period.
~STIMULUS TO LITERARY PURSUITS.~
The great stimulus to literary pursuits is the hope thereby of
obtaining office and honor, and the only course of education followed
is the classical and historical one prescribed by law. Owing to this
undue attention to the classics, the minds of the scholars are not
symmetrically trained, and they disparage other branches of literature
which do not directly advance this great end. Every department of
letters, except jurisprudence, history, and official statistics, is
disesteemed in comparison; and the literary graduate of fourscore will
be found deficient in most branches of general learning, ignorant of
hundreds of common things and events in his national history, which
the merest schoolboy in the western world would be ashamed not to know
in his. This course of instruction does not form well-balanced minds,
but it imbues the future rulers of the land with a full understanding
of the principles on which they are to govern, and the policy of
the supreme power in using those principles to consolidate its own
authority.
Centralization and conservatism were the leading features of the
teachings of Confucius which first recommended them to the rulers, and
have decided the course of public examinations in selecting officers
who would readily uphold these principles. The effect has been that
the literary class in China holds the functions of both nobles and
priests, a perpetual association, _gens æterna in qua memo nascitur_,
holding in its hands public opinion and legal power to maintain it.
The geographical isolation of the people, the nature of the language,
and the absence of a landed aristocracy, combine to add efficiency to
this system; and when the peculiarities of Chinese character, and the
nature of the class-books which do so much to mould that character, are
considered, it is impossible to devise a better plan for insuring the
perpetuity of the government, or the contentment of the people under
that government.
It was about A.D. 600, that Taitsung, of the Tang dynasty, instituted
the present plan of preparing and selecting civilians by means of study
and degrees, founding his system on the facts that education had always
been esteemed, and that the ancient writings were accepted by all as
the best instructors of the manners and tastes of the people. According
to native historians, the rulers of ancient times made ample provision
for the cultivation of literature and promotion of education in all
its branches. They supply some details to enable us to understand the
mode and the materials of this instruction, and glorify it as they do
everything ancient, but probably from the want of authentic accounts
in their own hands, they do not clearly describe it. The essays of M.
Édouard Biot on the _History of Public Instruction in China_, contains
well-nigh all the information extant on this interesting subject,
digested in a very lucid manner. Education is probably as good now as
it ever was, and its ability to maintain and develop the character of
the people as great as at any time; it is remarkable how much it really
has done to form, elevate, and consolidate their national institutions.
The Manchu monarchs were not at first favorably disposed to the system
of examinations, and frowned upon the literary hierarchy who claimed
all honors as their right; but the next generation saw the advantages
and necessity of the _concours_, in preserving its own power.
~METHODS AND PURPOSE OF EDUCATION IN CHINA.~
Boys commence their studies at the age of seven with a teacher; for,
even if the father be a literary man he seldom instructs his sons, and
very few mothers are able to teach their offspring to read. Maternal
training is supposed to consist in giving a right direction to the
morals, and enforcing the obedience of the child; but as there are few
mothers who do more than compel obedience by commands, or by the rod,
so there are none who can teach the infantile mind to look up to its
God in prayer and praise.
Among the many treatises for the guidance of teachers, the _Siao
Hioh_, or ‘Juvenile Instructor,’ is regarded as most authoritative.
When establishing the elements of education, this book advises fathers
to “choose from among their concubines those who are fit for nurses,
seeking such as are mild, indulgent, affectionate, benevolent,
cheerful, kind, dignified, respectful, and reserved and careful
in their conversation, whom they will make governesses over their
children. When able to talk, lads must be instructed to answer in a
quick, bold tone, and girls in a slow and gentle one. At the age of
seven, they should be taught to count and name the cardinal points;
but at this age the sexes should not be allowed to sit on the same mat
nor eat from the same table. At eight, they must be taught to wait for
their superiors, and prefer others to themselves. At ten, the boys
must be sent abroad to private tutors, and there remain day and night,
studying writing and arithmetic, wearing plain apparel, learning to
demean themselves in a manner becoming their age, and acting with
sincerity of purpose. At thirteen, they must attend to music and
poetry; at fifteen, they must practise archery and charioteering. At
the age of twenty, they are in due form to be admitted to the rank of
manhood, and learn additional rules of propriety, be faithful in the
performance of filial and fraternal duties, and though they possess
extensive knowledge, must not affect to teach others. At thirty, they
may marry and commence the management of business. At forty, they may
enter the service of the state; and if their prince maintains the reign
of reason, they must serve him, but otherwise not. At fifty, they may
be promoted to the rank of ministers; and at seventy, they must retire
from public life.”
Another injunction is, “Let children always be taught to speak the
simple truth; to stand erect and in their proper places, and listen
with respectful attention.” The way to become a student, “is, with
gentleness and self-abasement, to receive implicitly every word the
master utters. The pupil, when he sees virtuous people, must follow
them, when he hears good maxims, conform to them. He must cherish no
wicked designs, but always act uprightly; whether at home or abroad,
he must have a fixed residence, and associate with the benevolent,
carefully regulating his personal deportment, and controlling the
feelings of his heart. He must keep his clothes in order. Every
morning he must learn something new, and rehearse the same every
evening.” The great end of education, therefore, among the ancient
Chinese, was not so much to fill the head with knowledge, as to
discipline the heart and purify the affections. One of their writers
says, “Those who respect the virtuous and put away unlawful pleasures,
serve their parents and prince to the utmost of their ability, and
are faithful to their word; these, though they should be considered
unlearned, we must pronounce to be educated men.” Although such terms
as purity, filial affection, learning, and truth, have higher meanings
in a Christian education than are given them by Chinese masters, the
inculcation of them in any degree and so decided a manner does great
credit to the people, and will never need to be superseded--only raised
to a higher grade.[269]
In intercourse with their relatives, children are taught to attend to
the minutest points of good breeding; and are instructed in everything
relating to their personal appearance, making their toilet, saluting
their parents, eating, visiting, and other acts of life. Many of these
directions are trivial even to puerility, but they are none too minute
in the ideas of the Chinese, and still form the basis of good manners,
as much as they did a score of centuries ago; and it can hardly be
supposed that Confucius would have risked his influence upon the grave
publication of trifles, if he had not been well acquainted with the
character of his countrymen. Yet nothing is trifling which conduces to
the growth of good manners among a people, though it may not have done
all that was wished.[270]
Rules are laid down for students to observe in the prosecution of their
studies, which reflect credit on those who set so high a standard for
themselves. Dr. Morrison has given a synopsis of a treatise of this
sort, called the ‘Complete Collection of Family Jewels,’ and containing
a minute specification of duties to be performed by all who would
be thorough students. The author directs the tyro to form a fixed
resolution to press forward in his studies, setting his mark as high
as possible, and thoroughly understanding everything as he goes along.
“I have always seen that a man who covets much and devotes himself to
universal knowledge, when he reads he presumes on the quickness and
celerity of his genius and perceptions, and chapters and volumes pass
before his eyes, and issue from his mouth as fluently as water rolls
away; but when does he ever apply his mind to rub and educe the essence
of a subject? In this manner, although much be read, what is the use
of it? Better little and fine, than much and coarse.” He also advises
persons to have two or three good volumes lying on their tables, which
they can take up at odd moments, and to keep commonplace books in which
they can jot down such things as occur to them. They should get rid of
distracting thoughts if they wish to advance in their studies; as “if
a man’s stomach has been filled by eating greens and other vegetables,
although the most precious dainties with exquisite tastes should be
given him, he cannot swallow them, he must first get rid of a few
portions of the greens; so in reading, the same is true of the mixed
thoughts which distract the mind, which are about the dusty affairs
of a vulgar world.” The rules given by these writers correspond to
those laid down among ourselves, in such books as Todd’s _Manual for
Students_, and reveal the steps which have given the Chinese their
intellectual position.[271]
~ARRANGEMENT AND RÉGIME OF BOYS’ SCHOOLS.~
For all grades of scholars, there is but one mode of study; the
imitative nature of the Chinese mind is strikingly exhibited in the
few attempts on the part of teachers to improve upon the stereotyped
practice of their predecessors, although persons of as original minds
as the country affords are constantly engaged in education. When the
lad commences his studies, an impressive ceremony takes place--or did
formerly, for it seems to have fallen into desuetude: the father leads
his son to the teacher, who kneels down before the name of some one
or other of the ancient sages, and supplicates their blessing upon
his pupil; after which, seating himself, he receives the homage and
petition of the lad to guide him in his lessons.[272] As is the case in
Moslem countries, a present is expected to accompany this initiation
into literary pursuits. In all cases this event is further marked by
giving the lad his _shu ming_ or ‘book name,’ by which he is called
during his future life. The furniture of the school merely consists of
a desk and a stool for each pupil, and an elevated seat for the master,
for maps, globes, black-boards, diagrams, etc., are yet to come in
among its articles of furniture. In one corner is placed a tablet or an
inscription on the wall, dedicated to Confucius and the god of Letters;
the sage is styled the ‘Teacher and Pattern for All Ages,’ and incense
is constantly burned in honor of them both.
The location of school-rooms is usually such as would be considered
bad elsewhere, but by comparison with other things in China, is not
so. A mat shed which barely protects from the weather, a low, hot
upper attic of a shop, a back room in a temple, or rarely a house
specially built for the purpose, such are the school-houses in China.
The chamber is hired by the master, who regulates his expenses and
furnishes his apartment according to the number and condition of his
pupils; their average number is about twenty, ranging between ten and
forty in day schools, and in private schools seldom exceeding ten. The
most thorough course of education is probably pursued in the latter,
where a well-qualified teacher is hired by four or five persons living
in the same street, or mutually related by birth or marriage, to
teach their children at a stipulated salary. In such cases the lads
are placed in bright, well-aired apartments, superior to the common
school-room. The majority of teachers have been unsuccessful candidates
for literary degrees, who having spent the prime of their days in
fruitless attempts to attain office, are unfit for manual labor, and
unable to enter on mercantile life. In Canton, a teacher of twenty boys
receives from half a dollar to a dollar per month from each pupil; in
country villages, three, four or five dollars a year are given, with
the addition, in most cases, of a small present of eatables from each
scholar three or four times a year. Private tutors receive from $150
to $350 or more per annum, according to particular engagement. There
are no boarding-schools, nor anything answering to infant schools; nor
are public or charity schools established by government, or by private
benevolence for the education of the poor.
~ELEMENTARY INSTRUCTION.~
The first hours of study are from sunrise till ten A.M., when the boys
go to breakfast; they reassemble in an hour or more, and continue at
their books till about five P.M., when they disperse for the day. In
summer, they have no lessons after dinner, but an evening session is
often held in the winter, and evening schools are occasionally opened
for mechanics and others who are occupied during the day. When a boy
comes into school in the morning, he bows reverentially before the
tablet of Confucius, salutes his teacher, and then takes his seat. The
vacations during the year are few; the longest is before new year, at
which time the engagement is completed, and the school closes, to be
reöpened after the teacher and parents have made a new arrangement. The
common festivals, of which there are a dozen or more, are regarded as
holydays, and form very necessary relaxations in a country destitute of
the rest of the Sabbath. The requisite qualifications of a teacher are
gravity, severity, and patience, and acquaintance with the classics; he
has only to teach the same series of books in the same fashion in which
he learned them himself and keep a good watch over his charge.
~THE TRIMETRICAL CLASSIC.~
When the lads come together at the opening of the school, their
attainments are ascertained; the teacher endeavors to have his pupils
nearly equal in this respect, but inasmuch as they are all put to
precisely the same tasks, a difference is not material. If the boys are
beginners, they are brought up in a line before the desk, holding the
_San-tsz’ King_, or ‘Trimetrical Classic,’ in their hands, and taught
to read off the first lines after the teacher until they can repeat
them without help. He calls off the first four lines as follows:
_Jin chí tsu, sing pun shen;
Sing siang kin, sih siang yuen;_
when his pupils simultaneously cry out:
_Jin chí tsu, sing pun shen;
Sing siang kin, sih siang yuen._
Mispronunciations are corrected until each can read the lesson
accurately; they are then sent to their seats to commit the sounds to
memory. As the sounds are all entire words (not letters, nor syllables,
of which they have no idea), the boys are not perplexed, as ours are,
with symbols which have no meaning. All the children study aloud, and
when one is able to recite the task, he is required to _back_ it--come
up to the master’s desk, and stand with his back toward him while
rehearsing it.
The _San-tsz’ King_ was compiled by Wang Pih-hao of the Sung dynasty
(A.D. 1050) for his private school. It contains ten hundred and
sixty-eight words, and half that number of different characters,
arranged in one hundred and seventy-eight double lines. It has been
commented upon by several persons, one of whom calls it “a ford
which the youthful inquirer may readily pass, and thereby reach the
fountain-head of the higher courses of learning, or a passport into the
regions of classical and historical literature.” This hornbook begins
with the nature of man, and the necessity and modes of education, and
it is noticeable that the first sentence, the one quoted above, which a
Chinese learns at school, contains one of the most disputed doctrines
in the ancient heathen world:
“Men at their birth, are by nature radically good;
Though alike in this, in practice they widely diverge.
If not educated, the natural character grows worse;
A course of education is made valuable by close attention.
Of old, Mencius’ mother selected a residence,
And when her son did not learn, cut out the [half-wove] web.
To nurture and not educate is a father’s error;
To educate without rigor shows a teacher’s indolence.
That boys should not learn is an unjust thing;
For if they do not learn in youth, what will they do when old?
As gems unwrought serve no useful end,
So men untaught will never know what right conduct is.”
The importance of filial and fraternal duties are then inculcated by
precept and example, to which succeeds a synopsis of the various
branches of learning in an ascending series, under several heads of
numbers; the three great powers, the four seasons and four cardinal
points, the five elements and five constant virtues, the six kinds of
grain and six domestic animals, the seven passions, the eight materials
for music, nine degrees of kindred, and ten social duties. A few
extracts will exhibit the mode in which these subjects are treated.
“There are three powers,--heaven, earth, and man.
There are three lights,--the sun, moon, and stars.
There are three bonds,--between prince and minister, justice;
Between father and son, affection; between man and wife, concord.
Humanity, justice, propriety, wisdom, and truth,--
These five cardinal virtues are not to be confused.
Rice, millet, pulse, wheat, sorghum, millet grass,
Are six kinds of grain on which men subsist.
Mutual affection of father and son, concord of man and wife;
The older brother’s kindness, the younger one’s respect;
Order between seniors and juniors, friendship among associates;
On the prince’s part regard, on the minister’s true loyalty;--
These ten moral duties are ever binding among men.”
To this technical summary succeed rules for a course of academical
studies, with a list of the books to be learned, and the order of
their use, followed by a synopsis of the general history of China, in
an enumeration of the successive dynasties. The work concludes with
incidents and motives to learning drawn from the conduct of ancient
sages and statesmen, and from considerations of interest and glory.
The examples cited are curious instances of pursuit of knowledge under
difficulties, and form an inviting part of the treatise.
“Formerly Confucius had young Hiang Toh for his teacher;
Even the sages of antiquity studied with diligence.
Chau, a minister of state, read the Confucian Dialogues,
And he too, though high in office, studied assiduously.
One copied lessons on reeds, another on slips of bamboo;
These, though without books, eagerly sought knowledge.
[To vanquish sleep] one tied his head [by the hair] to a beam, and
another pierced his thigh with an awl;
Though destitute of instructors, these were laborious in study.
One read by the glowworm’s light, another by reflection from snow;
These, though their families were poor, did not omit to study.
One carried faggots, and another tied his books to a cow’s horn,
And while thus engaged in labor, studied with intensity.
Su Lau-tsiuen, when he was twenty-seven years old
Commenced close study, and applied his mind to books;
This man, when old, grieved that he commenced so late;
You who are young must early think of these things.
Behold Liang Hau, at the ripe age of eighty-two,
In the imperial hall, amongst many scholars, gains the first rank;
This he accomplished, and all regarded him a prodigy;
You, my young readers, should now resolve to be diligent.
Yung, when only eight years old, could recite the Odes;
And Pí, at the age of seven, understood the game of chess;
These displayed ability, and all deemed them to be rare men;
And you, my hopeful scholars, ought to imitate them.
Tsai Wăn-kí could play upon stringed instruments;
Sié Tau-wăn, likewise, could sing and chant;
These two, though girls, were bright and well informed;
You, then, my lads, should surely rouse to diligence.
Liu Ngan of Tang, when only seven years old,
Proving himself a noble lad, was able to correct writing:
He, though very young, was thus highly promoted.
You, young learners, strive to follow his example,
For he who does so, will acquire like honors.
“Dogs watch by night; the cock announces the morning;
If any refuse to learn, how can they be esteemed men?
The silkworm spins silk, the bee gathers honey;
If men neglect to learn, they are below the brutes.
He who learns in youth, to act wisely in mature age,
Extends his influence to the prince, benefits the people,
Makes his name renowned, renders his parents honorable;
Reflects glory on his ancestors, and enriches his posterity.
Some for their offspring, leave coffers filled with gold;
While I to teach children, leave this one little book.
Diligence has merit; play yields no profit;
Be ever on your guard! Rouse all your energies!”
These quotations illustrate the character of the _Trimetrical Classic_,
and show its imperfections as a book for young minds. It is a syllabus
of studies rather than a book to be learned, and ill suited to entice
the boy on in his tasks by giving him mental food in an attractive
form. Yet its influence has been perhaps as great as the classics
during the last four dynasties, from its general use in primary
schools, where myriads of lads have “backed” it who have had no leisure
to study much more, and when they had crossed this ford could travel
no farther. The boy commences his education by learning these maxims;
and by the time he has got his degree--and long before, too--the
highest truths and examples known in the land are more deeply impressed
on his mind than are ever Biblical truths and examples on graduates of
Yale, Oxford, Heidelberg or the Sorbonne. Well was it for them that
they had learned nothing in it which they had better forget, for its
deficiencies, pointed out by Bridgman in his translation, should not
lead us to overlook its suggestive synopsis of principles and examples.
The commentary explains them very fully, and it is often learned as
thoroughly as the text. Many thousands of tracts containing Christian
truths written in the same style and with the same title, have been
taught with good effect in the mission schools in China.[273]
The next hornbook put into the boy’s hands is the _Pih Kia Sing_,
or ‘Century of Surnames.’ It is a list of the family or clan names
commonly in use. Its acquisition also gives him familiarity with four
hundred and fifty-four common words employed as names, a knowledge,
too, of great importance lest mistakes be made in choosing a wrong
character among the scores of homophonous characters in the language.
For instance, out of eighty-three common words pronounced _kí_, six
only are clan names, and it is necessary to have these very familiar
in the daily intercourse of life. The nature of the work forbids its
being studied, but the usefulness of its contents probably explains its
position in this series.[274]
~THE THOUSAND-CHARACTER CLASSIC.~
The third in the list is the _Tsien Tsz’ Wăn_, or ‘Millenary Classic,’
unique among all books in the Chinese language, and whose like could
not be produced in any other, in that it consists of just a thousand
characters, no two of which are alike in form or meaning. The author,
Chau Hing-tsz’, flourished about A.D. 550, and according to an account
given in the history of the Liang dynasty, wrote it at the Emperor’s
request, who had ordered his minister Wang Hí-chí to write out a
thousand characters, and give them to him, to see if he could make a
connected ode with them. This he did, and presented his performance
to his majesty, who rewarded him with rich presents in token of his
approval. Some accounts (in order that so singular a work might not
want for corresponding wonders) add that he did the task in a single
night, under the fear of condign punishment if he failed, and the
mental exertion was so great as to turn his hair white. It consists
of two hundred and fifty lines, in which rhyme and rhythm are both
carefully observed, though there is no more poetry in it than in a
multiplication table. The contents of the book are similar but more
discursive than those of the _Trimetrical Classic_. Up to the one
hundred and second line, the productions of nature and virtues of the
early monarchs, the power and capacities of man, his social duties
and mode of conduct, with instructions as to the manner of living,
are summarily treated. Thence to the one hundred and sixty-second
line, the splendor of the palace, and its high dignitaries, with
other illustrious persons and places, are referred to. The last part
of the work treats of private and literary life, the pursuits of
agriculture, household government, and education, interspersed with
some exhortations, and a few illustrations. A few disconnected extracts
from Dr. Bridgman’s translation[275] will show the mode in which these
subjects are handled. The opening lines are,
“The heavens are sombre; the earth is yellow;
The whole universe [at the creation] was one wide waste;”
after which it takes a survey of the world and its products,
and Chinese history, in a very sententious manner, down to the
thirty-seventh line, which opens a new subject.
“Now this our human body is endowed
With four great powers and five cardinal virtues:
Preserve with reverence what your parents nourished,--
How dare you destroy or injure it?
Let females guard their chastity and purity,
And let men imitate the talented and virtuous.
When you know your own errors then reform;
And when you have made acquisitions do not lose them.
Forbear to complain of the defects of other people,
And cease to brag of your own superiority.
Let your truth be such as may be verified,
Your capacities, as to be measured with difficulty.
“Observe and imitate the conduct of the virtuous,
And command your thoughts that you may be wise.
Your virtue once fixed, your reputation will be established;
Your habits once rectified, your example will be correct.
Sounds are reverberated in the deep valleys,
And the vacant hall reëchoes all it hears;
So misery is the penalty of accumulated vice,
And happiness the reward of illustrious virtue.
“A cubit of jade stone is not to be valued,
But an inch of time you ought to contend for.
“Mencius esteemed plainness and simplicity;
And Yu the historian held firmly to rectitude.
These nearly approached the golden medium,
Being laborious, humble, diligent, and moderate.
Listen to what is said, and investigate the principles explained:
Watch men’s demeanor, that you may distinguish their characters.
Leave behind you none but purposes of good;
And strive to act in such a manner as to command respect.
When satirized and admonished examine yourself,
And do this more thoroughly when favors increase.
“Years fly away like arrows, one pushing on the other;
The sun shines brightly through his whole course.
The planetarium keeps on revolving where it hangs;
And the bright moon repeats her revolutions.
To support fire, add fuel; so cultivate the root of happiness,
And you will obtain eternal peace and endless felicity.”
The commentary on the _Thousand Character Classic_ contains many just
observations and curious anecdotes to explain this book, whose text
is so familiar to the people at large that its lines or characters
are used as labels instead of figures, as they take up less room. If
Western scholars were as familiar with the acts and sayings of King
Wăn, of Su Tsin, or of Kwan Chung, as they are with those of Sesostris,
Pericles, or Horace, these incidents and places would naturally enough
be deemed more interesting than they now are. But where the power of
genius, or the vivid pictures of a brilliant imagination, are wanting
to illustrate or beautify a subject, there is comparatively little
to interest Europeans in the authors and statesmen of such a distant
country and remote period.[276]
~THE ODES FOR CHILDREN.~
The fourth in this series, called _Yin Hioh Shí-tieh_, or ‘Odes
for Children,’ is written in rhymed pentameters, and contains only
thirty-four stanzas of four lines. A single extract will show its
character, which is, in general, a brief description and praise of
literary life, and allusion to the changes of the season, and the
beauties of nature.
It is of the utmost importance to educate children;
Do not say that your families are poor,
For those who can handle well the pencil,
Go where they will, need never ask for favors.
One at the age of seven, showed himself a divinely endowed youth,
‘Heaven,’ said he, ‘gave me my intelligence:
Men of talent appear in the courts of the holy monarch,
Nor need they wait in attendance on lords and nobles.
‘In the morning I was an humble cottager,
In the evening I entered the court of the Son of Heaven:
Civil and military offices are not hereditary,
Men must, therefore, rely on their own efforts.
‘A passage for the sea has been cut through mountains,
And stones have been melted to repair the heavens;
In all the world there is nothing that is impossible;
It is the heart of man alone that is wanting resolution.
‘Once I myself was a poor indigent scholar,
Now I ride mounted in my four-horse chariot,
And all my fellow-villagers exclaim with surprise.’
Let those who have children thoroughly educate them.
~THE STORY OF CONFUCIUS AND HIANG TOH.~
The examples of intelligent youth rising to the highest offices
of state are numerous in all the works designed for beginners,
and stories illustrative of their precocity are sometimes given in
toy-books and novels. One of the most common instances is here quoted,
that of Confucius and Hiang Toh, which is as well known to every
Chinese as is the story of George Washington barking the cherry-tree
with his hatchet to American youth.
“The name of Confucius was Yu, and his style Chungní; he established
himself as an instructor in the western part of the kingdom of Lu.
One day, followed by all his disciples, riding in a carriage, he
went out to ramble, and on the road, came across several children at
their sports; among them was one who did not join in them. Confucius,
stopping his carriage, asked him, saying, ‘Why is it that you alone
do not play?’ The lad replied, ‘All play is without any profit;
one’s clothes get torn, and they are not easily mended; above me, I
disgrace my father and mother; below me, even to the lowest, there is
fighting and altercation; so much toil and no reward, how can it be
a good business? It is for these reasons that I do not play.’ Then
dropping his head, he began making a city out of pieces of tile.
“Confucius, reproving him, said, ‘Why do you not turn out for the
carriage?’ The boy replied, ‘From ancient times till now it has
always been considered proper for a carriage to turn out for a city,
and not for a city to turn out for a carriage.’ Confucius then
stopped his vehicle in order to discourse of reason. He got out of
the carriage, and asked him, ‘You are still young in years, how is
it that you are so quick?’ The boy replied, saying, ‘A human being,
at the age of three years, discriminates between his father and his
mother; a hare, three days after it is born, runs over the ground and
furrows of the fields; fish, three days after their birth, wander in
rivers and lakes; what heaven thus produces naturally, how can it be
called brisk?’
“Confucius added, ‘In what village and neighborhood do you reside,
what is your surname and name, and what your style?’ The boy
answered, ‘I live in a mean village and in an insignificant land; my
surname is Hiang, my name is Toh, and I have yet no style.’
“Confucius rejoined, ‘I wish to have you come and ramble with me;
what do you think of it?’ The youth replied, ‘A stern father is at
home, whom I am bound to serve; an affectionate mother is there, whom
it is my duty to cherish; a worthy elder brother is at home, whom it
is proper for me to obey, with a tender younger brother whom I must
teach; and an intelligent teacher is there from whom I am required to
learn. How have I leisure to go a rambling with you?’
“Confucius said, ‘I have in my carriage thirty-two chessmen; what
do you say to having a game together?’ The lad answered, ‘If the
Emperor love gaming, the Empire will not be governed; if the nobles
love play, the government will be impeded; if scholars love it,
learning and investigation will be lost and thrown by; if the lower
classes are fond of gambling, they will utterly lose the support of
their families; if servants and slaves love to game, they will get a
cudgelling; if farmers love it, they miss the time for ploughing and
sowing; for these reasons I shall not play with you.’
“Confucius rejoined, ‘I wish to have you go with me, and fully
equalize the Empire; what do you think of this?’ The lad replied,
‘The Empire cannot be equalized; here are high hills, there are
lakes and rivers; either there are princes and nobles, or there are
slaves and servants. If the high hills be levelled, the birds and
beasts will have no resort; if the rivers and lakes be filled up, the
fishes and the turtles will have nowhere to go; do away with kings
and nobles, and the common people will have much dispute about right
and wrong; obliterate slaves and servants, and who will there be to
serve the prince! If the Empire be so vast and unsettled, how can it
be equalized?’
“Confucius again asked, ‘Can you tell, under the whole sky, what fire
has no smoke, what water no fish; what hill has no stones, what tree
no branches; what man has no wife, what woman no husband; what cow
has no calf, what mare no colt; what cock has no hen, what hen no
cock; what constitutes an excellent man, and what an inferior man;
what is that which has not enough, and what which has an overplus;
what city is without a market, and who is the man without a style?’
“The boy replied, ‘A glowworm’s fire has no smoke, and well-water no
fish; a mound of earth has no stones, and a rotten tree no branches;
genii have no wives, and fairies no husbands; earthen cows have no
calves, nor wooden mares any colts; lonely cocks have no hens, and
widowed hens no cocks; he who is worthy is an excellent man, and a
fool is an inferior man; a winter’s day is not long enough, and a
summer’s day is too long; the imperial city has no market, and little
folks have no style.’
“Confucius inquiring said, ‘Do you know what are the connecting bonds
between heaven and earth, and what is the beginning and ending of the
dual powers? What is left, and what is right; what is out, and what
is in; who is father, and who is mother; who is husband, and who is
wife. [Do you know] where the wind comes from, and from whence the
rain? From whence the clouds issue, and the dew arises? And for how
many tens of thousands of miles the sky and earth go parallel?’
“The youth answering said, ‘Nine multiplied nine times make
eighty-one, which is the controlling bond of heaven and earth;
eight multiplied by nine makes seventy-two, the beginning and end
of the dual powers. Heaven is father, and earth is mother; the sun
is husband, and the moon is wife; east is left, and west is right;
without is out, and inside is in; the winds come from Tsang-wu, and
the rains proceed from wastes and wilds; the clouds issue from the
hills, and the dew rises from the ground. Sky and earth go parallel
for ten thousand times ten thousand miles, and the four points of the
compass have each their station.’
“Confucius asking, said, ‘Which do you say is the nearest relation,
father and mother, or husband and wife?’ The boy responded, ‘One’s
parents are near; husband and wife are not [so] near.’
“Confucius rejoined, ‘While husband and wive are alive, they sleep
under the same coverlet; when they are dead they lie in the same
grave; how then can you say that they are not near?’ The boy replied,
‘A man without a wife is like a carriage without a wheel; if there
be no wheel, another one is made, for he can doubtless get a new
one; so, if one’s wife die, he seeks again, for he also can obtain
a new one. The daughter of a worthy family must certainly marry an
honorable husband; a house having ten rooms always has a plate and
a ridgepole; three windows and six lattices do not give the light
of a single door; the whole host of stars with all their sparkling
brilliancy do not equal the splendor of the solitary moon: the
affection of a father and mother--alas, if it be once lost!’
“Confucius sighing, said, ‘How clever! how worthy!’ The boy asking
the sage said, ‘You have just been giving me questions, which I
have answered one by one; I now wish to seek information; will the
teacher in one sentence afford me some plain instruction? I shall be
much gratified if my request be not rejected.’ He then said, ‘Why
is it that mallards and ducks are able to swim; how is it that wild
geese and cranes sing; and why are firs and pines green through the
winter?’ Confucius replied, ‘Mallards and ducks can swim because
their feet are broad; wild geese and cranes can sing because they
have long necks; firs and pines remain green throughout the winter
because they have strong hearts.’ The youth rejoined, ‘Not so; fishes
and turtles can swim, is it because they all have broad feet? Frogs
and toads can sing, is it because their necks are long? The green
bamboo keeps fresh in winter, is it on account of its strong heart?’
“Again interrogating, he said, ‘How many stars are there altogether
in the sky?’ Confucius replied, ‘At this time inquire about the
earth; how can we converse about the sky with certainty?’ The boy
said, ‘Then how many houses in all are there on the earth?’ The sage
answered, ‘Come now, speak about something that’s before our eyes;
why must you converse about heaven and earth?’ The lad resumed,
‘Well, speak about what’s before our eyes--how many hairs are there
in your eyebrows?’
“Confucius smiled, but did not answer, and turning round to his
disciples called them and said, ‘This boy is to be feared; for it is
easy to see that the subsequent man will not be like the child.’ He
then got into his carriage and rode off.”[277]
~THE HIAO KING, OR CANONS OF FILIAL DUTY.~
Next in course to this rather trifling primer comes the _Hiao King_,
or ‘Canons of Filial Duty,’ a short tractate of only 1,903 characters,
which purports to be the record of a conversation held between
Confucius and his disciple Tsăng Tsan on the principles of filial
piety. Its authenticity has been disputed by critics, but their doubts
are not shared by their countrymen, who commit it to memory as the
words of the sage. The legend is that a copy was discovered in the
wall of his dwelling, and compared with another secreted by Yen Chí at
the burning of the books; from the two Liu Hiang chose eighteen of the
chapters contained in it as alone genuine, and in this shape it has
since remained. The sixth section of the Imperial Catalogue is entirely
devoted to writers on the _Hiao King_, one of whom was Yuentsung, an
emperor of the Tang dynasty (A.D. 733). Another comment was published
in 32 volumes in Kanghí’s reign, discussing the whole subject in
one hundred chapters. Though it does not share in critical eyes the
confidence accorded to the nine classics, the brevity and subject
matter of this work have commended it to teachers as one of the best
books in the language to be placed in the hands of their scholars; thus
its influence has been great and enduring. It has been translated by
Bridgman, who regards the first six sections as the words of Confucius,
while the other twelve contain his ideas. Two quotations are all that
need be here given to show its character.
SECTION I.--_On the origin and nature of filial duty._--Filial
duty is the root of virtue, and the stem from which instruction
in the moral principle springs. Sit down, and I will explain this
to you. The first thing which filial duty requires of us is, that
we carefully preserve from all injury, and in a perfect state,
the bodies which we have received from our parents. And when we
acquire for ourselves a station in the world, we should regulate our
conduct by correct principles, so as to transmit our names to future
generations, and reflect glory on our parents. This is the ultimate
aim of filial duty. Thus it commences in attention to parents, is
continued through a course of services rendered to the prince, and is
completed by the elevation of ourselves. It is said in the _Book of
Odes_,
Ever think of your ancestors;
Reproducing their virtue.
SECTION V.--_On the attention of scholars to filial duty._--With the
same love that they serve their fathers, they should serve their
mothers; and with the same respect that they serve their fathers,
they should serve their prince; unmixed love, then, will be the
offering they make to their mothers; unfeigned respect the tribute
they bring to their prince; while toward their fathers both these
will be combined. Therefore they serve their prince with filial duty
and are faithful to him; they serve their superiors with respect and
are obedient to them. By constant obedience and faithfulness toward
those who are above them, they are enabled to preserve their stations
and emoluments, and to offer the sacrifices which are due to their
deceased ancestors and parents. Such is the influence of filial piety
when performed by scholars. It is said in the _Book of Odes_,
When the dawn is breaking, and I cannot sleep,
The thoughts in my breast are of our parents.[278]
The highest place in the list of virtues and obligations is accorded
to filial duty, not only in this, but in other writings of Confucius
and those of his school. “There are,” to quote from another section,
“three thousand crimes to which one or the other of the five kinds of
punishment is attached as a penalty; and of these no one is greater
than disobedience to parents. When ministers exercise control over the
monarch, then there is no supremacy; when the maxims of the sages are
set aside, then the law is abrogated; and so those who disregard filial
duty are as though they had no parents. These three evils prepare the
way for universal rebellion.”
This social virtue has been highly lauded by all Chinese writers,
and its observance inculcated upon youth and children by precept and
example. Stories are written to show the good effects of obedience, and
the bad results of its contrary sin, which are put into their hands,
and form also subjects for pictorial illustration, stanzas for poetry,
and materials for conversation. The following examples are taken from
a toy-book of this sort, called the _Twenty-four Filials_, one of the
most popular collections on the subject.
~EXTRACTS FROM THE TWENTY-FOUR FILIALS.~
“During the Chau dynasty there lived a lad named Tsăng Tsan (also
Tsz’-yu), who served his mother very dutifully. Tsăng was in the
habit of going to the hills to collect fagots; and once, while he was
thus absent, many guests came to his house, toward whom his mother
was at a loss how to act. She, while expecting her son, who delayed
his return, began to gnaw her fingers. Tsăng suddenly felt a pain in
his heart, and took up his bundle of fagots in order to return home;
and when he saw his mother, he kneeled and begged to know what was
the cause of her anxiety. She replied, ‘there have been some guests
here, who came from a great distance, and I bit my finger in order to
arouse you to return to me.’
“In the Chau dynasty lived Chung Yu, named also Tsz’-lu, who, because
his family was poor, usually ate herbs and coarse pulse; and he
also went more than a hundred _lí_ to procure rice for his parents.
Afterward, when they were dead, he went south to the country of Tsu,
where he was made commander of a hundred companies of chariots; there
he became rich, storing up grain in myriads of measures, reclining
upon cushions, and eating food served to him in numerous dishes; but
sighing, he said, ‘Although I should now desire to eat coarse herbs
and bring rice for my parents, it cannot be!’
“In the Chau dynasty there flourished the venerable Lai, who was
very obedient and reverential toward his parents, manifesting his
dutifulness by exerting himself to provide them with every delicacy.
Although upward of seventy years of age, he declared that he was not
yet old; and usually dressed himself in parti-colored embroidered
garments, and like a child would playfully stand by the side of his
parents. He would also take up buckets of water, and try to carry
them into the house; but feigning to slip, would fall to the ground,
wailing and crying like a child: and all these things he did in order
to divert his parents.
“During the Han dynasty lived Tung Yung, whose family was so very
poor that when his father died he was obliged to sell himself in
order to procure money to bury his remains. After this he went to
another place to gain the means of redeeming himself; and on his way
he met a lady who desired to become his wife, and go with him to his
master’s residence. She went with him, and wove three hundred pieces
of silk, which being completed in two months, they returned home;
on the way, having reached the shade of the cassia tree where they
before met, the lady bowed and ascending, vanished from his sight.
“During the Han dynasty lived Ting Lan, whose parents both died
when he was young, before he could obey and support them; and he
reflected that for all the trouble and anxiety he had caused them, no
recompense had yet been given. He then carved wooden images of his
parents, and served them as if they had been alive. For a long time
his wife would not reverence them; but one day, taking a bodkin, she
in derision pricked their fingers. Blood immediately flowed from the
wound; and seeing Ting coming, the images wept. He examined into the
circumstances, and forthwith divorced his wife.
“In the days of the Han dynasty lived Koh Kü, who was very poor. He
had one child three years old; and such was his poverty that his
mother usually divided her portion of food with this little one.
Koh says to his wife, ‘We are so poor that our mother cannot be
supported, for the child divides with her the portion of food that
belongs to her. Why not bury this child? Another child may be born
to us, but a mother once gone will never return.’ His wife did not
venture to object to the proposal; and Koh immediately dug a hole of
about three cubits deep, when suddenly he lighted upon a pot of gold,
and on the metal read the following inscription: ‘Heaven bestows this
treasure upon Koh Kü, the dutiful son; the magistrate may not seize
it, nor shall the neighbors take it from him.’
“Măng Tsung, who lived in the Tsin dynasty, when young lost his
father. His mother was very sick; and one winter’s day she longed to
taste a soup made of bamboo sprouts, but Măng could not procure any.
At last he went into the grove of bamboos, clasped the trees with his
hands, and wept bitterly. His filial affection moved nature, and the
ground slowly opened, sending forth several shoots, which he gathered
and carried home. He made a soup with them, of which his mother ate
and immediately recovered from her malady.
“Wu Măng, a lad eight years of age, who lived under the Tsin dynasty,
was very dutiful to his parents. They were so poor that they could
not afford to furnish their bed with mosquito-curtains; and every
summer’s night, myriads of mosquitos attacked them unrestrainedly,
feasting upon their flesh and blood. Although there were so many, yet
Wu would not drive them away, lest they should go to his parents, and
annoy them. Such was his affection.”[279]
~THE SIAO HIOH, OR JUVENILE INSTRUCTOR.~
The last book learned before entering on the classics has had almost
as great an influence as any of them, and none of the works of later
scholars are so well calculated to show the ideas of the Chinese in
all ages upon the principles of education, intercourse of life, and
rules of conduct as this; precepts are illustrated by examples, and
the examples referred back to precepts for their moving cause. This
is the _Siao Hioh_, or “Juvenile Instructor,” and was intended by Chu
Hí, its author, as a counterpart of the _Ta Hiao_, on which he had
written a commentary. It has had more than fifty commentators, one of
whom says, “We confide in the _Siao Hioh_ as we do in the gods, and
revere it as we do our parents.” It is divided into two books, the
“fountain of learning,” and “the stream flowing from it,” arranged in
20 chapters and 385 short sections. The first book has four parts and
treats of the first principles of education; of the duties we owe our
kindred, rulers, and fellow-men, of those we owe ourselves in regard to
study, demeanor, food, and dress; and lastly gives numerous examples
from ancient history, beginning with very early times down to the end
of the Chau dynasty, B.C. 249, confirmatory of the maxims inculcated,
and the good effects resulting from their observance. The second book
contains, in its first part, a collection of wise sayings of eminent
men who flourished after B.C. 200, succeeded by a series of examples
of distinguished persons calculated to show the effects of good
principles; both designed to establish the truth of the teachings of
the first book. One or two quotations, themselves extracted from other
works, will suffice to show something of its contents.
“Confucius said, ‘Friends must sharply and frankly admonish each
other, and brothers must be gentle toward one another.’”
“Tsz’-kung, asking about friendship, Confucius said, ‘Faithfully to
inform and kindly to instruct another is the duty of a friend; if he
is not tractable, desist; do not disgrace yourself.’”
“Whoever enters with his guests, yields precedence to them at every
door; when they reach the innermost one, he begs leave to go in
and arrange the seats, and then returns to receive the guests; and
after they have repeatedly declined he bows to them and enters. He
passes through the right door, they through the left. He ascends the
eastern, they the western steps. If a guest be of a lower grade,
he must approach the steps of the host, while the latter must
repeatedly decline this attention; then the guest may return to the
western steps, he ascending, both host and guest must mutually yield
precedence: then the host must ascend first, and the guests follow.
From step to step they must bring their feet together, gradually
ascending--those on the east moving the right foot first, those on
the west the left.”
The great influence which these six school-books have had is owing to
their formative power on youthful minds, a large proportion of whom
never go beyond them (either from want of time, means, or desire), but
are really here furnished with the kernel of their best literature.
~HABITS OF STUDY--SCHOOLS AND COLLEGES.~
The tedium of memorizing these unmeaning sounds is relieved by writing
the characters on thin paper placed over copy slips. The writing and
the reading lessons are the same, and both are continued for a year or
two until the forms and sounds of a few thousand characters are made
familiar, but no particular effort is taken to teach their meanings.
It is after this that the teacher goes over the same ground, and with
the help of the commentary, explains the meaning of the words and
phrases one by one, until they are all understood. It is not usual for
the beginner to attend much to the meaning of what he is learning to
read and write, and where the labor of committing arbitrary characters
is so great and irksome, experience has probably shown that it is not
wise to attempt too many things at once. The boy has been familiarizing
himself with their shapes as he sees them all the time around him,
and he learns what they mean in a measure before he comes to school.
The association of form with ideas, as he cons his lesson and writes
their words, gradually strengthens, and results in that singular
interdependence of the eye and ear so observable among the scholars of
the far East. They trust to what is read to help in understanding what
is heard much more than is the case in phonetic languages. No effort
is made to facilitate the acquisition of the characters by the boys
in school by arranging them according to their component parts; they
are learned one by one, as boys are taught the names and appearance
of minerals in a cabinet. The effects of a course of study like this,
in which the powers of the tender mind are not developed by proper
nourishment of truthful knowledge, can hardly be otherwise than to
stunt the genius, and drill the faculties of the mind into a slavish
adherence to venerated usage and dictation, making the intellects of
Chinese students like the trees which their gardeners so toilsomely
dwarf into pots and jars--plants, whose unnaturalness is congruous to
the insipidity of their fruit.
The number of years spent at school depends upon the means of the
parents. Tradesmen, mechanics, and country gentlemen endeavor to give
their sons a competent knowledge of the usual series of books, so
that they can creditably manage the common affairs of life. No other
branches of study are pursued than the classics and histories, and
what will illustrate them, meanwhile giving much care and practice to
composition. No arithmetic or any department of mathematics, nothing of
the geography of their own or other countries, of natural philosophy,
natural history, or scientific arts, nor the study of other languages,
are attended to. Persons in these classes of society put their sons
into shops or counting-houses to learn the routine of business with
a knowledge of figures and the style of letter-writing; they are not
kept at school more than three or four years, unless they mean to
compete at the examinations. Working men, desirous of giving their
sons a smattering, try to keep them at their books a year or two, but
millions must of course grow up in utter ignorance. It is, however, an
excellent policy for a state to keep up this universal honor paid to
education where the labor is so great and the return so doubtful, for
it is really the homage paid to the principles taught.
Besides the common schools, there are grammar or high schools and
colleges, but they are far less effective. In Canton, there are
fourteen grammar schools and thirty colleges, some of which are quite
ancient, but most of them are neglected. Three of the largest contain
each about two hundred students and two or three professors. The
chief object of these institutions is to instruct advanced scholars
in composition and elegant writing; the tutors do a little to turn
attention to general literature, but have neither the genius nor the
means to make many advances. In rural districts students are encouraged
to meet at stated times in the town-house, where the headman, or deputy
of the _sz’_ or township, examines them on themes previously proposed by
him.[280] In large towns, the local officers, assisted by the gentry
and graduates, hold annual examinations of students, at which premiums
are given to the best essayists. At such an examination in Amoy in
March, 1845, there were about a thousand candidates, forty of whom
received sums varying from sixty to sixteen cents.
One of the most notable, as well as the most ancient of collegiate
institutions, is the _Kwoh-tsz’ Kien_, or ‘School for the Sons of the
State,’ whose extensive buildings in Peking, now empty and dilapidated,
show how much easier it is to found and plan a good thing than to
maintain its efficiency. This state school originated as early as
the Chau dynasty, and the course of study as given in the _Ritual of
Chau_ was much the same three thousand years ago as at present. Its
officers consisted of a rector, usually a high minister of state, aided
by five councillors, two directors, two proctors, two secretaries, a
librarian, two professors in each of the six halls, and latterly five
others for each of the colleges for Bannermen. These halls are named
Hall of the Pursuit of Wisdom, the Sincere of Heart, of True Virtue, of
Noble Aspiration, of Broad Acquirements, and the Guidance of Nature.
The curriculum was not intended to go beyond the classics and the six
liberal arts of music, charioteering, archery, etiquette, writing,
and mathematics; but as if to encourage the professors to “seek out
by wisdom concerning all things that are done under heaven,” as
Solomon advises, they were told to take their students to the original
sources of strategy, astronomy, engineering, music, law, and the like,
and point out the defects and merits of each author. The _Kwoh-tsz’
Kien_ possesses now only the husk of its ancient goodness; and if
its professors were not honored, and made eligible to be distinct
magistrates after three years’ term, the buildings would soon be left
altogether empty. Instead of reviving and rearranging it, the Chinese
Government has wisely supplanted it by a new college with its new
professors and new course of studies--the _Tung-wăn Kwan_ mentioned
on p. 436. Native free schools, established by benevolent persons in
city or country, are not uncommon, and serve to maintain the literary
spirit; some may not be very long-lived, but others take their place.
In Peking, each of the Banners has its school, and so has the Imperial
Clan; retired officials contribute to schools opened for boys connected
with their native districts living in the capital. Such efforts to
promote education are expected from those who have obtained its high
prizes.
~PROPORTION OF THOSE WHO CAN READ IN CHINA.~
How great a proportion of the people in China can read, is a difficult
question to answer, for foreigners have had no means of learning the
facts in the case, and the natives never go into such inquiries.
More of the men in cities can read than in the country, and more
in some provinces than in others. In the district of Nanhai, which
forms part of the city of Canton, an imperfect examination led to the
belief that nearly all the men are able to read, except fishermen,
agriculturists, coolies, boat-people, and fuelers, and that two or
three in ten devote their lives to literary pursuits. In less thickly
settled districts, not more than four- or five-tenths, and even
less, can read. In Macao, perhaps half of the men can read. From an
examination of the hospital patients at Ningpo, one of the missionaries
estimated the readers to form not more than five per cent. of the
men; while another missionary at the same place, who made inquiry
in a higher grade of society, reckoned them at twenty per cent. The
villagers about Amoy are deplorably ignorant; one lady who had lived
there over twenty years, writes that she had never found a woman who
could read, but these were doubtless from among the poorer classes.
It appears that as one goes north, the extent and thoroughness of
education diminishes. Throughout the Empire the ability to understand
books is not commensurate with the ability to read the characters,
and both have been somewhat exaggerated. Owing to the manner in which
education is commenced--learning the forms and sounds of characters
before their meanings are understood--it comes to pass that many
persons can call over the names of the characters while they do not
comprehend in the least the sense of what they read. They can pick
out a word here and there, it may be a phrase or a sentence, but they
derive no clearer meaning from the text before them than a lad, who
has just learned to scan, and has proceeded half through the Latin
Reader, does from reading Virgil; while in both cases an intelligent
audience, unacquainted with the facts, might justly infer that the
reader understood what he was reading as well as his hearers did.
Moreover, in the Chinese language, different subjects demand different
characters; and although a man may be well versed in the classics or
in fiction, he may be easily posed by being asked to explain a simple
treatise in medicine or in mathematics, in consequence of the many new
or unfamiliar words on every page. This is a serious obstacle in the
way of obtaining a general acquaintance with books. The mind becomes
weary with the labor of study where its toil is neither rewarded by
knowledge nor beguiled by wit; consequently, few Chinese are well read
in their natural literature. The study of books being regarded solely
as the means wherewith to attain a definite end, it follows naturally
that when a cultivated man has reached his goal he should feel little
disposed to turn to these implements of his profession for either
instruction or pleasure.
Wealthy or official parents, who wish their sons to compete for
literary honors, give them the advantages of a full course in reading
and rhetoric under the best masters. Composition is the most difficult
part of the training of a Chinese student, and requires unwearied
application and a retentive memory. He who can most readily quote the
classics, and approach the nearest to their terse, comprehensive,
energetic diction and style, is, _cæteris paribus_, most likely to
succeed; while the man who can most quickly throw off well rhythmed
verses takes the palm from all competitors. In novels, the ability
to compose elegant verses as fast as the pencil can fly is usually
ascribed to the hero of the plot. How many of those who intend to
compete for degrees attend at the district colleges or high schools
is not known, but they are resorted to by students about the time of
the examinations in order to make the acquaintance of those who are
to compete with them. No public examinations take place in either day
or private schools, nor do parents often visit them, but rewards for
remarkable proficiency are occasionally conferred. There is little
gradation of studies, nor are any diplomas conferred on students to
show that they have gone through a certain course. Punishments are
severe, and the rattan or bamboo hangs conspicuously near the master,
and its liberal use is considered necessary: “To educate without rigor,
shows the teacher’s indolence,” is the doctrine, and by scolding,
starving, castigation, and detention, the master tries to instil habits
of obedience and compel his scholars to learn their task.
Notwithstanding the high opinion in which education is held, the
general diffusion of knowledge, and the respect paid to learning in
comparison with mere title and wealth, the defects of the tuition here
briefly described, in extent, means, purposes, and results, are very
great. Such, too, must necessarily be the case until new principles
and new information are infused into it. Considered in its best point
of view, this system has effected all that it can in enlarging the
understanding, purifying the heart, and strengthening the minds of
the people; but in none of these, nor in any of the essential points
at which a sound education aims (as we understand the matter), has it
accomplished half that is needed. The stream never rises even as high
as its source, and the teachings of Confucius and Mencius have done
all that is possible to make their countrymen thinking, useful, and
intelligent men.
~MODE OF EXAMINATION AND CONFERRING DEGREES.~
Turn we now from this brief sketch of primary education among the
Chinese, to a description of the mode of examining students and
conferring the degrees which have been made the passport to office,
and learn what are the real merits of the system. Persons from almost
every class of society may become candidates for degrees under the
certificates of securities, but none are eligible for the second
diploma who have not already received the first. It therefore happens
that the republican license apparently allowed to well-nigh every
subject, in reality reserves the prizes for the few most talented or
wealthy persons in the community. A majority of the clever, learned,
ambitious, and intelligent spirits in the land look forward to these
examinations as the only field worthy of their efforts, and where they
are most likely to find their equals and friends. How much better for
the good of society, too, is this arena than the camp or the feudal
court, the tournament or the monastery!
~EXAMINATION FOR THE DEGREE OF SIU-TSAI.~
There are four regular literary degrees, with some intermediate steps
of a titular sort. The first is called _siu-tsai_, meaning ‘flowering
talent,’ because of the promise held out of the future success of
the scholar; it has often been rendered ‘bachelor of arts’ as its
nearest equivalent. The examinations to obtain it are held under the
supervision of the _chíhien_ in a public building belonging to the
district situated near his yamun; and the chief literary officer,
called _hioh-ching_, ‘corrector of learning,’ or _kiao-yu_, ‘teacher
of the commands,’ has the immediate control. When assembled at the
hall of examination, the district magistrate, the deputy chancellor,
and prefect, having prepared the lists of the undergraduates and
selected the themes, allow only one day for writing the essays. The
number of candidates depends upon the population and literary spirit
of the district; in the districts of Nanhai and Pwanyu, upward of two
thousand persons competed for the prize in 1832, while in Hiangshan
not half so many came together. The rule for apportioning them was
at first according to the annual revenue. When the essays are handed
in, they are looked over by the board of examiners, and the names of
the successful students entered on a roll, and pasted upon the walls
of the magistrate’s hall; this honor is called _hien ming_, _i.e._,
‘having a name in the village.’ Out of the four thousand candidates
referred to above, only thirteen in one district, and fourteen in the
other, obtained a name in the village; the entire population of these
two districts is not much under a million and a half. Many of the
competitors at this primary tripos are unable to finish their essays
in the day, others make errors in writing, and others show gross
ignorance, all of which so greatly diminish their numbers, that only
those who stand near the head of the list of _hien ming_ do really
or usually enter on the next trial before the prefect. But all have
had an equal chance, and few complain that their performances were
disregarded, for they can try as often as they please.
Those who pass the first examination are entered as candidates for
the second, which takes place in the chief town of the department
before the literary chancellor and the prefect, assisted by a literary
magistrate called _kiao-shao_, ‘giver of instructions;’ it is more
rigorous than that held before the _chíhien_, though similar to it
in nature. The prefect arranges the candidates from each district by
themselves according to their standing on their several lists, and it
is this vantage ground which makes the first trial in one’s native
place so important to the ambitious scholar. The themes on which
they have tested their scholarship are published for the information
of friends and the other examiners. If the proportion given above
of successful candidates at the district examinations hold for each
district, there would not be more than two hundred students assembled
at the prefect’s hall, but the number is somewhat increased by
persons who have purchased the privilege; still the second trial is
made among a small number in proportion to the first, and yet more
trifling when compared with the amount of population. The names of the
successful students at the second trial are exposed on the walls of
the office, which is called _fu ming_, _i.e._, ‘having a name in the
department,’ and these only are eligible as candidates for the third
trial. In addition to their knowledge of the classics, the candidates
at this trial are often required to write off the text of the _Shing
Yu_, or ‘Sacred Edict,’ from memory, as this work consists of maxims
for the guidance of officers. The literary chancellor exercises a
superintendence over the previous examinations, and makes the circuit
of the province to attend them in each department, twice in three
years. There are various ranks among these educational officials,
corresponding to the civilians in the province; transfers are
occasionally made from one service to the other, and the oversight of
the latter is always given at the examinations wherever they are held.
Most of the literary officers, however, remain in their own line, as
it is highly honorable and more permanent. At the third trial in the
provincial capital, he confers the first degree of _siu-tsai_ upon
those who are chosen out of the whole list as the best scholars.
There are several classes of bachelors, depending somewhat on the
manner in which they obtained their degree; those who get it in the
manner here described take the precedence. The possession of this
degree protects the person from corporeal punishment, raises him
above the common people, renders him a conspicuous man in his native
place, and eligible to enter the triennial examination for the second
degree. Those who have more money than learning, purchase this degree
for sums varying from $200 up to $1,000, and even higher; in later
years, according to the necessities of the government, diplomas
have been sold as low as $25 to $50, but such men seldom rise. They
are called _kien-săng_, and, as might be supposed, are looked upon
somewhat contemptuously by those who have passed through the regular
examinations, and “won the battle with their own lance.” A degree
called _kung-săng_ is purchased by or bestowed upon the _siu-tsai_, but
is so generally recognized that it has almost become a fifth degree,
which does not entitle them to the full honors of a _kü-jin_. What
proportion of scholars are rewarded by degrees is not known, but it is
a small number compared with the candidates. A graduate of considerable
intelligence at Ningpo estimated the number of _siu-tsai_ in that
city at four hundred, and in the department at nearly a thousand. In
Canton City, the number of _shin-kin_, or gentry, who are allowed to
wear the sash of honor, and have obtained literary degrees, is not
over three hundred; but in the whole province there are about twelve
thousand bachelors in a population of nineteen millions. Those who
have not become _siu-tsai_ are still regarded as under the oversight
of the _kiao-yu_ and others of his class, who still receive their
essays; but the body of provincial _siu-tsai_ are obliged to report
themselves and attend the prefectural tripos before the chancellor,
under penalty of losing all the privileges and rank obtained. This law
brings them before those who may take cognizance of misdeeds, for these
men are often very oppressive and troublesome to their countrymen. The
graduates in each district are placed under the control of a chief,
whose power is almost equal to the deputy chancellor’s; from them are
taken the two securities required by each applicant to enter the tripos.
The candidates for _siu-tsai_ are narrowly examined when they enter
the hall, their pockets, shoes, wadded robes, and ink-stones, all
being searched, lest precomposed essays or other aids to composition
be smuggled in. When they are all seated in the hall in their proper
places, the wickets, doors, windows, and other entrances are all
guarded, and pasted over with strips of paper. The room is filled with
anxious competitors arranged in long seats, pencil in hand, and ready
to begin. The theme is given out, and every one immediately writes
off his essay, carefully noting how many characters he erases in
composing it, and hands it up to the board of examiners; the whole day
is allotted to the task, and a signal-gun announces the hour when the
doors are thrown open, and the students can disperse. A man is liable
to lose his acquired honor of _siu-tsai_ if at a subsequent inspection
he is found to have discarded his studies, and he is therefore impelled
to pursue them in order to maintain his influence, even if he does not
reach the next degree.[281]
~EXAMINATION FOR THE SECOND DEGREE.~
Since the first degree is sometimes procured by influence and money,
it is the examination for the second, called _kü-jin_, or ‘promoted
men,’ held triennially in the provincial capitals before two imperial
commissioners, that separates the candidates into students and
officers, though all the students who receive a diploma by no means
become officers. This examination is held at the same time in all the
eighteen provincial capitals, viz., on the 9th, 12th, and 15th days
of the eighth moon, or about the middle of September; while it is
going on, the city appears exceedingly animated, in consequence of the
great number of relatives and friends assembled with the students.
The persons who preside at the examination, besides the imperial
commissioners, are ten provincial officers, with the futai at their
head, who jointly form a board of examiners, and decide upon the merits
of the essays. The number of candidates who entered the lists at Canton
in the years 1828 and 1831 was 4,800; in 1832 there were 6,000, which
is nearer the usual number. In the largest provinces it reaches as many
as 7,000, 8,000, and upward.
[Illustration: INTERIOR OF KUNG YUEN, OR ‘EXAMINATION HALL,’ PEKING.]
Previous to entering the _Kung Yuen_, each candidate has given in all
the necessary proofs and particulars, which entitle him to a cell,
and receives the ticket which designates the one he is to occupy. He
enters the night before, and is searched to see that no manuscript
essay, “skinning paper,” or miniature edition of the classics, is
secreted on his person. If anything of the sort is discovered, he is
punished with the cangue, degraded from his first degree, and forbidden
again to compete at the examination; his father and tutor are likewise
punished. Some of the pieces written for this purpose are marvels of
penmanship, and the most finished compositions; one set contained an
essay on every sentence in the Four Books, each of the sheets covered
with hundreds of characters, and the paper so thin that they could
be easily read through it. The practice is, however, quite common,
notwithstanding the penalties, and one censor requested a law to be
passed forbidding small editions to be printed, and booksellers’ shops
to be searched for them.
~METHOD OF CONDUCTING THE EXAMINATION.~
The general arrangement of the examination halls in all the provincial
capitals is alike. A description of that at Canton, given on page 166,
is typical of them all.
The Hall at Peking, situated on the eastern side, not far from the
observatory, contains ten thousand cells, and these do not always
suffice for the host which assembles. The Hall at Fuhchau is equally
large; each cell is a little higher than a man’s head, and is open
on but one side--letting in more rain and wind during inclement
days than is comfortable. Confinement in these cramped cells is so
irksome as to frequently cause the death of aged students, who are
unable to sustain the fatigue, but who still enter the arena in hopes
of at last succeeding. Cases have occurred where father, son, and
grandson, appeared at the same time to compete for the same prize.
Dr. Martin[282] found that out of a list of ninety-nine successful
competitors for the second degree, sixteen were over forty years of
age, one sixty-two, and one eighty-three. The average age of the whole
number was over thirty--while in comparison with like statistics for
the third degree, a proportionate increase might be looked for. The
unpleasantness of the strait cell is much increased by the smoke
arising from the cooking, and by the heat of the weather. All servants
are provided by government, but each candidate takes in the rice and
fuel which he needs, together with cakes, tea, candles, bedding, etc.,
as he can afford; no one can go in with him. The enclosure presents a
bustling scene during the examination, and its interest intensifies
until the names of the successful scholars are published. Should a
student die in his cell, the body is pulled through a hole made in the
wall of the enclosure, and left there for his friends to carry away.
Whenever a candidate breaks any of the prescribed regulations of the
contest, his name and offence are reported, and his name is “pasted
out” by placarding it on the outer door of the hall, after which he
is not allowed to enter until another examination comes around. More
than a hundred persons are thus “pasted out” each season, but no heavy
disgrace seems to attach to them in consequence.
On the first day after the doors have been sealed up, four themes are
selected by the examiners from the Four Books, one of which subjects
must be discussed in a poetical essay. The minimum length of the
compositions is a hundred characters, and they must be written plainly
and elegantly, and sent in without any names attached. In 1828, the
acumen of four thousand eight hundred candidates was exercised during
the first day on these themes: “Tsăng-tsz’ said, ‘To possess ability,
and yet ask of those who do not; to know much, and yet inquire of those
who know little; to possess, and yet appear not to possess; to be full,
and yet appear empty.’”--“He took hold of things by the two extremes,
and in his treatment of the people maintained the golden medium.”--“A
man from his youth studies eight principles, and when he arrives at
manhood, he wishes to reduce them to practice.”--The fourth essay,
to be written in pentameters, had for its subject, “The sound of the
oar, and the green of the hills and water.” Among the themes given
out in 1843, were these: “He who is sincere will be intelligent, and
the intelligent man will be faithful.”--“In carrying out benevolence,
there are no rules.” In 1835, one was, “He acts as he ought, both to
the common people and official men, receives his revenue from Heaven,
and by it is protected and highly esteemed.” Among other more practical
texts are the following: “Fire-arms began with the use of rockets in
the Chau dynasty; in what book do we first meet with the word for
cannon? Is the defence of Kaifung fu its first recorded use? Kublai
khan, it is said, obtained cannon of a new kind; from whom did he
obtain them? When the Ming Emperors, in the reign of Yungloh, invaded
Cochinchina, they obtained a kind of cannon called the weapons of the
gods; can you give an account of their origin?”
The three or five themes (for the number seems to be optional) selected
from the Five Classics are similar to these, but as those works are
regarded as more recondite than the Four Books, so must the essayists
try to take a higher style. An officer goes around to gather in the
papers, which are first handed to a body of scholars in waiting, who
look them over to see if the prescribed rules have all been observed,
and reject those which infringe them. The rest are then copied in
red ink, to prevent recognition of the handwriting, and the original
manuscripts given to the governor. The copies are submitted to another
class of old scholars for their criticism, each of whom marks the
essays he deems best with a red circle, and these only are placed in
the hands of the chancellors sent from Peking for their decision.
The examining board are aided by twelve scholars of repute, to each
of whom forty or fifty essays are given to read. The students are
dismissed during the night of the ninth day, and reassemble before
sunrise of the eleventh; all whose essays were rejected on the first
review are refused entrance to their cells. At the second tripos, five
themes are given out from the Five Classics, and everything proceeds
as before in respect to the disposal of the manuscripts. The students
are liberated early on the thirteenth as before by companies, under a
salute and music as they leave the great door; their number has been
much reduced by this time. On the next morning the roll is called, and
those who answer to their names for the last struggle are furnished
with five themes for essays, one for poetry, taken from the classics
or histories, upon doubtful matters of government, or such problems
as might arise in law and finance. These questions take even a more
extended range, including topics relating to the laws, history,
geography, and customs of the Empire in former times, doubtful points
touching the classical works, and the interpretation of obscure
passages, and biographical notices of statesmen. It is forbidden,
however, to discuss any points relating to the policy of the present
family, or the character and learning of living statesmen; but the
conduct of their rulers is now and then alluded to by the candidates.
Manuals of questions on such subjects as candidates are examined
in, are commonly exposed for sale in shops about the time of these
examinations.[283] By noon of the sixteenth day of the eighth moon, all
the candidates throughout the Empire have left their halls, and the
examination is over.
~EXAMPLE OF AN ESSAY.~
The manner in which subjects are handled may be readily illustrated by
introducing an essay upon this theme: “When persons in high stations
are sincere in the performance of relative and domestic duties, the
people generally will be stimulated to the practice of virtue.” It is
a fair specimen of the jejune style of Chinese essayists, and the mode
of reasoning in a circle which pervades their writings.
“When the upper classes are really virtuous, the common people will
inevitably become so. For, though the sincere performance of relative
duties by superiors does not originate in a wish to stimulate the
people, yet the people do become virtuous, which is a proof of the
effect of sincerity. As benevolence is the radical principle of all
good government in the world, so also benevolence is the radical
principle of relative duties amongst the people. Traced back to its
source, benevolent feeling refers to a first progenitor; traced
forward, it branches out to a hundred generations yet to come. The
source of personal existence is one’s parents, the relations which
originate from Heaven are most intimate; and that in which natural
feeling blends is felt most deeply. That which is given by Heaven and
by natural feeling to all, is done without any distinction between
noble or ignoble. One feeling pervades all. My thoughts now refer to
him who is placed in a station of eminence, and who may be called a
good man. The good man who is placed in an eminent station, ought to
lead forward the practice of virtue; but the way to do so is to begin
with his own relations, and perform his duties to them.
“In the middle ages of antiquity, the minds of the people were not
yet dissipated--how came it that they were not humble and observant
of relative duties, when they were taught the principles of the
five social relations? This having been the case, makes it evident
that the enlightening of the people must depend entirely on the
cordial performance of immediate relative duties. The person in an
eminent station who may be called a good man, is he who appears at
the head of all others in illustrating by his practice the relative
duties. To ages nearer to our own, the manners of the people
were not far removed from the dutiful; how came it that any were
disobedient to parents, and without brotherly affection, and that
it was yet necessary to restrain men by inflicting the eight forms
of punishment? This having been the case, shows that in the various
modes of obtaining promotion in the state, there is nothing regarded
of more importance than filial and fraternal duties. The person in an
eminent station who may be called a good man, is he who stands forth
as an example of the performance of relative duties.
“The difference between a person filling a high station and one of
the common people, consists in the department assigned them, not in
their relation to Heaven; it consists in a difference of rank, not
in a difference of natural feeling; but the common people constantly
observe the sincere performance of relative duties in people of high
stations. In being at the head of a family and preserving order
amongst the persons of which it is composed, there should be sincere
attention to politeness and decorum. A good man placed in a high
station says, ‘Who of all these are not related to me, and shall I
receive them with mere external forms?’ The elegant entertainment,
the neatly arranged tables, and the exhilarating song, some men
esteem mere forms, but the good man esteems that which dictates them
as a divinely instilled feeling, and attends to it with a truly
benevolent heart. And who of the common people does not feel a share
of the delight arising from fathers, and brothers, and kindred? Is
this joy resigned entirely to princes and kings?
“In favors conferred to display the benignity of a sovereign, there
should be sincerity in the kindness done. The good man says, ‘Are
not all these persons whom I love, and shall I merely enrich them
by largesses?’ He gives a branch as the sceptre of authority to a
delicate younger brother, and to another he gives a kingdom with his
best instructions. Some men deem this as merely extraordinary good
fortune, but the good man esteems it the exercise of a virtue of the
first order, and the effort of inexpressible benevolence. But have
the common people no regard for the spring whence the water flows,
nor for the root which gives life to the tree and its branches? Have
they no regard for their kindred? It is necessary both to reprehend
and to urge them to exercise these feelings. The good man in a high
station is sincere in the performance of relative duties, because
to do so is virtuous, and not on account of the common people. But
the people, without knowing whence the impulse comes, with joy and
delight are influenced to act with zeal in this career of virtue;
the moral distillation proceeds with rapidity, and a vast change is
effected.
“The rank of men is exceedingly different; some fill the imperial
throne, but every one equally wishes to do his utmost to accomplish
his duty; and success depends on every individual himself. The upper
classes begin and pour the wine into the rich goblet; the poor man
sows his grain to maintain his parents; the men in high stations
grasp the silver bowl, the poor present a pigeon; they arouse each
other to unwearied cheerful efforts, and the principles implanted by
Heaven are moved to action. Some things are difficult to be done,
except by those who possess the glory of national rule; but the kind
feeling is what I myself possess, and may increase to an unlimited
degree. The prince may write verses appropriate to his vine bower;
the poor man can think of his gourd shelter; the prince may sing his
classic odes on fraternal regards; the poor man can muse on his more
simple allusions to the same subject, and asleep or awake indulge his
recollections; for the feeling is instilled into his nature. When
the people are aroused to relative virtues, they will be sincere;
for where are there any of the common people that do not desire to
perform relative duties? But without the upper classes performing
relative duties, this virtuous desire would have no point from which
to originate, and therefore it is said, ‘Good men in high stations,
as a general at the head of his armies, will lead forward the world
to the practice of social virtues.’”
The discipline of mind and memory which these examinations draw out
furnishes a grade of intellect which only needs the friction and
experience of public life to make statesmen out of scholars, and goes
far to account for the influence of Chinese in Asia. The books studied
in preparation for such trials must be remembered with extraordinary
accuracy, though we may wish they contained more truth and better
science. The following are among the questions proposed in 1853, and
must be taken as an average: “In the Han dynasty, there were three
commentators on the _Yih King_, whose explanations, and divisions into
chapters and sentences were all different: can you give an account of
them?”--“Sz’ma Tsien took the classics and ancient records in arranging
his history according to their facts; some have accused him of unduly
exalting the Taoists and thinking too highly of wealth and power. Pan
Ku is clear and comprehensive, but on Astronomy and the Five Elements,
he has written more than enough. Give examples and proof of these
two statements.”--“Chin Shao had admirable abilities for historical
writings. In his _San Kwoh Chí_ he has depreciated Chu-koh Liang, and
made very light of Í and Í, two other celebrated characters. What does
he say of them?” This kind of question involves a wide range of reading
within the native literature, though it of course contracts the mind to
look upon that literature as containing all that is worth anything in
the world.
~ARDUOUS LABORS OF THE EXAMINERS.~
Twenty-five days are allowed for the examining board to decide on the
essays; and few tasks can be instanced more irksome to a board of
honest examiners than the perusal of between fifty and seventy-five
thousand papers on a dozen subjects, through which the most monotonous
uniformity must necessarily run, and out of which they have to choose
the seventy or eighty best--for the number of successful candidates
cannot vary far from this, according to the size of the province. The
examiners, as has already been described, are aided by literary men
in sifting this mass of papers, which relieves them of most of the
labor, and secures a better decision. If the number of students be five
thousand, and each writes thirteen essays, there will be sixty-five
thousand papers, which allots two hundred and sixty essays for each of
the ten examiners. With the help of the assistants who are intrusted
with their examination, most of the essays obtain a reading, no doubt,
by some qualified scholar. There is, therefore, no little sifting and
selection, so that when at the last the commissioners choose three
rolls of essays and poems from each of the sessions belonging to the
same scholar, to pass their final judgment, the company of candidates
likely to succeed has been reduced as small in proportion as those
in Gideon’s host who lapped water. One of the examining committee,
in 1832, who sought to invigorate his nerves or clear his intellect
for the task by a pipe of opium, fell asleep in consequence, and
on awaking, found that many of the essays had caught fire and been
consumed. It is generally supposed that hundreds of them are unread,
but the excitement of the occasion, and the dread on the part of
the examining board to irritate the body of students, act as checks
against gross omissions. Very trivial errors are enough to condemn
an essay, especially if the examiners have not been gained to look
upon it kindly. Section LII. of the code regulates the conduct of
the examiners, but the punishments are slight. One candidate, whose
essay had been condemned without being read, printed it, which led
to the punishment of the examiner, degradation of the graduate, and
promulgation of a law forbidding this mode of appealing to the public.
Another essay was rejected because the writer had abbreviated a single
character.
When the names of the successful wranglers are known, they are
published by a crier at midnight, on or before the tenth of the ninth
moon; at Canton, he mounts the highest tower, and, after a salute,
announces them to the expectant city; the next morning, lists of the
lucky scholars are hawked about the streets, and rapidly sent to all
parts of the province. The proclamation which contains their names is
pasted upon the governor’s office under a salute of three guns; his
excellency comes out and bows three times towards the names of the
_promoted men_, and retires under another salute. The disappointed
multitude must then rejoice in the success of the few, and solace
themselves with the hope of better luck next time; while the successful
ones are honored and feasted in a very distinguished manner, and
are the objects of flattering attention from the whole city. On an
appointed day, the governors, commissioners, and high provincial
officers banquet them all at the futai’s palace; inferior officers
attend as servants, and two lads, fantastically dressed, and holding
fragrant branches of the olive (_Olea fragrans_) in their hands grace
the scene with this symbol of literary attainments. The number of A.M.,
licentiates, or _kü-jin_, who triennially receive their degrees in the
Empire, is upwards of thirteen hundred: the expense of the examinations
to the government in various ways, including the presents conferred on
the graduates, can hardly be less than a third of a million of taels.
Besides the triennial examinations, special ones are held every ten
years, and on extraordinary occasions, as a victory, a new reign, or an
imperial marriage. One was granted in 1835 because the Empress-dowager
had reached her sixtieth year.
~EXAMINATIONS FOR THIRD AND FOURTH DEGREES.~
The third degree of _tsin-sz’_, ‘entered scholars,’ or doctors, is
conferred triennially at Peking upon the successful licentiates who
compete for it, and only those among the _kü-jin_, who have not already
taken office, are eligible as candidates. On application at the
provincial treasury, they are entitled to a part of their travelling
expenses to court, but it doubtless requires some interest to get
the mileage granted, for many poor scholars are detained from the
metropolitan examination, or must beg or borrow in order to reach it.
The procedure on this trial is the same as in the provinces, but the
examiners are of higher rank; the themes are taken from the same works,
and the essays are but little else than repetitions of the same train
of thought and argument. After the degrees are conferred upon all who
are deemed worthy, which varies from one hundred and fifty to four
hundred each time, the doctors are introduced to the Emperor, and do
him reverence, the three highest receiving rewards from him. At this
examination, candidates, instead of being promoted, are occasionally
degraded from their acquired standing for incompetency, and forbidden
to appear at them again. The graduates are all inscribed upon the
list of candidates for promotion, by the Board of Civil Office, to
be appointed on the first vacancy; most of them do in fact enter on
official life in some way or other by attaching themselves to high
dignitaries, or getting employment in some of the departments at the
capital. One instance is recorded of a student taking all the degrees
within nine months; and some become _hanlin_ before entering office.
Others try again and again, till gray hairs compel them to retire.
There are many subordinate offices in the Academy, the Censorate,
or the Boards, which seem almost to have been instituted for the
employment of graduates, whose success has given them a partial claim
upon the country. The Emperor sometimes selects clever graduates to
prepare works for the use of government, or nominates them upon special
literary commissions;[284] it can easily be understood that no small
address in managing and appeasing such a crowd of disciplined active
minds is required on the part of the bureaucracy, and only the long
experience of many generations of the graduates could suffice to keep
the system so vigorous as it is.
The fourth and highest degree of _hanlin_ is rather an office than a
degree, for those who attain it are enrolled as members of the Imperial
Academy, and receive salaries. The triennial examination for this
distinction is held in the Emperor’s palace, and is conducted on much
the same plan as all preceding ones, though being in the presence of
the highest personages in the Empire, it exceeds them in honor.[285]
Manchus and Mongols compete at these trials with the Chinese, but
many facts show that the former are generally favored at the expense
of the latter; the large proportion of men belonging to these races
filling high offices indicates who are the rulers of the land. The
candidates are all examined at Peking; one instance is recorded of a
Chinese who passed himself off for a Manchu, but afterward confessed
the dissimulation; the head of the division was tried in consequence
of his oversight. It is the professed policy of the government to
discourage literary pursuits among them, in order to maintain the
ancient energy of the race; but where the real power is lodged in the
hands of civilians, it is impossible to prevent so powerful a component
of the population from competing with the others for its possession.
~COMPETITIVE EXAMINATIONS OF THE MILITARY.~
The present dynasty introduced examinations and gradations among the
troops on the same principles as obtain in the civil service; nothing
more strikingly proves the power of literary pursuits in China, than
this vain attempt to harmonize the profession of arms in all its
branches with them. Their enemies were, however, no better disciplined
and equipped than they themselves were. Candidates for the first
degree present themselves before the district magistrate, with proper
testimonials and securities. On certain days they are collected on the
parade-grounds, and exhibit their skill in archery (on foot and in the
saddle), in wielding swords and lifting weights, graduated to test
their muscle. The successful men are assembled afterward before the
prefect; and again at a third trial before the literary chancellor, who
at the last tripos tests them on their literary attainments, before
giving them their degrees of _siu-tsai_. The number of successful
military _siu-tsai_ is the same as the literary. They are triennially
called together by the governor at the provincial capital to undergo
further examination for _kü-jin_ in four successive trials of the same
nature. These occasions are usually great gala days, and three or four
scores of young warriors who carry off prizes at these tournaments
receive honors and degrees in much the same style as their literary
compeers. The trials for the highest degree are held at Peking; and the
long-continued efforts in this service generally obtain for the young
men posts in the body-guard of the governors or staff appointments.
The forty-nine successful candidates out of several thousands at the
triennial examination for _kü-jin_ in Canton, November, 1832, all
hit the target on foot six times successively, and on horseback six
times; once with the arrow they hit a ball lying on the ground as they
passed it at a gallop; and all were of the first class in wielding
the iron-handled battle-axe, and lifting the stone-loaded beam. The
candidates are all persons of property, who find their own horses,
dresses, arms, etc., and are handsomely dressed, the horses, trimmings,
and accoutrements in good order--the arrows being without barbs, to
prevent accidents. One observer says, “the marks at which they fired,
covered with white paper, were about the height of a man and somewhat
wider, placed at intervals of fifty yards; the object was to strike
these marks successively with their three arrows, the horses being
kept at full speed. Although the bull’s-eye was not always hit, the
target was never missed: the distance did not exceed fifteen or twenty
feet.”[286]
Since military honors depend so entirely on personal skill, it may
partly account for the inferior rank the graduates hold in comparison
with civilians. No knowledge of tactics, gunnery, engineering,
fortifications, or even letters in general, seems to be required
of them; and this explains the inefficiency of the army, and the
low estimation its officers are held in. Sir J. Davis mentions one
military officer of enormous size and strength, whom he saw on the
Pei ho, who had lately been promoted for his personal prowess; and
speaks of another attached to the guard on one of the boats, who was
such a foolish fellow that none of the civilians would associate with
him.[287] All the classes eligible to civil promotion can enter the
lists for military honors; the Emperor is present at the examination
for the highest, and awards prizes, such as a cap decorated with a
peacock’s feather; but no system of prizes or examinations can supply
the want of knowledge and courage. Military distinctions not being much
sought by the people, and conferring but little emolument or power,
do not stand as high in public estimation as the present government
wishes. The selection of officers for the naval service is made from
the land force, and a man is considered quite as fit for that branch
after his feats of archery, as if the trials had been in yacht-sailing
or manning the yards.
~OBSERVATIONS UPON THE SYSTEM.~
Such is the outline of the system of examinations through which the
civil and military services of the Chinese government are supplied, and
the only part of their system not to be paralleled in one or other of
the great monarchies of past or present times; though the counterpart
of this may have also existed in ancient Egypt. “It is the only one
of their inventions,” as has been remarked, “which is perhaps worth
preserving, and has not been adopted by other countries, and carried to
greater perfection than they were equal to.” But such a system would
be unnecessary in an enlightened Christian country, where the people,
pursuing study for its own sake, are able and willing to become as
learned as their rulers desire without any such inducement. Nor would
they submit to the trammels and trickery attendant on competition
for office; the ablest politicians are by no means found among the
most learned scholars. The honor and power of official position have
proved to be ample stimulus and reward for years of patient study.
Not one in a score of graduates ever obtains an office, not one in a
hundred of competitors ever gets a degree; but they all belong to the
literary class, and share in its influence, dignity, and privileges.
Moreover, these books render not only those who get the prizes well
acquainted with the true principles on which power should be exercised,
but the whole nation--gentry and commoners--know them also. These
unemployed _literati_ form a powerful middle class, whose members
advise the work-people, who have no time to study, and aid their
rulers in the management of local affairs. Their intelligence fits
them to control most of the property, while few acquire such wealth as
gives them the power to oppress. They make the public opinion of the
country, now controlling it, then cramping it; alternately adopting
or resisting new influences, and sometimes successfully thwarting
the acts of officials, when the rights of the people are in danger
of encroachment; or at other times combining with the authorities to
repress anarchy or relieve suffering.
This class has no badge of rank, and is open to every man’s highest
talent and efforts, but its complete neutralization of hereditary
rights, which would have sooner or later made a privileged oligarchy
and a landed or feudal aristocracy, proves its vitalizing, democratic
influence. It has saved the Chinese people from a second disintegration
into numerous kingdoms, by the sheer force of instruction in the
political rights and duties taught in the classics and their
commentaries. While this system put all on equality, human nature,
as we know, has no such equality. At its inception it probably met
general support from all classes, because of its fitness for the times,
and soon the resistance of multitudes of hopeful students against its
abrogation and their consequent disappointment in their life-work aided
its continuance. As it is now, talent, wealth, learning, influence,
paternal rank, and intrigue, each and all have full scope for their
greatest efforts in securing the prizes. If these prizes had been
held by a tenure as slippery as they are at present in the American
Republic, or obtainable only by canvassing popular votes, the system
would surely have failed, for “the game would not have been worth the
candle.” But in China the throne gives a character of permanency to
the government, which opposes all disorganizing tendencies, and makes
it for the interest of every one in office to strengthen the power
which gave it to him. This loyalty was remarkably shown in the recent
rebellion, in which, during the eighteen years of that terrible carnage
and ruin, not one imperial official voluntarily joined the Tai-pings,
while hundreds died resisting them.
There is no space here for further extracts from the classics which
will adequately show their character. They would prove that Chinese
youth, as well as those in Christian lands, are taught a higher
standard of conduct than they follow. The former are, however, drilled
in the very best moral books the language affords; if the Proverbs of
Solomon and the New Testament were studied as thoroughly in our schools
as the Four Books are in China, our young men would be better fitted
to act their part as good and useful citizens.
In this way literary pursuits have taken precedence of warlike, and
no unscrupulous Cæsar or Napoleon has been able to use the army for
his own aggrandizement. The army of China is contemptible, certainly,
if compared with those of Western nations, and its use is rather like
a police, whose powers of protection or oppression are exhibited
according to the tempers of those who employ them. But in China the
army has not been employed, as it was by those great captains, to
destroy the institutions on which it rests; though its weakness and
want of discipline often make it a greater evil than good to the
people. But had the military waxed strong and efficient, it would
certainly have become a terror in the hands of ambitious monarchs, a
drain on the resources of the land, perhaps a menace to other nations,
or finally a destroyer of its own. The officials were taught, when
young, what to honor in their rulers; and, now that they hold those
stations, they learn that discreet, upright magistrates do receive
reward and promotion, and experience has shown them that peace and
thrift are the ends and evidence of good government, and the best tests
of their own fitness for office.
~VARIOUS RESULTS TO THE LAND AND PEOPLE.~
Another observable result of this republican method of getting the
best-educated men into office is the absence of any class of slaves
or serfs among the population. Slavery exists in a modified form of
corporeal mortgage for debt, and thousands remain in this serfdom for
life through one reason or another. But the destruction of a feudal
baronage involved the extinction of its correlative, a villein class,
and the oppression of poor debtors, as was the case in Rome under the
consuls. Only freemen are eligible to enter the _concours_, but the
percentage of slaves is too small to influence the total. To this
cause, too, may, perhaps, to a large degree, be ascribed the absence of
anything like caste, which has had such bad effects in India.
The system could not be transplanted; it is fitted for the genius of
the Chinese, and they have become well satisfied with its workings.
Its purification would do great good, doubtless, if the mass of the
people are to be left in their present state of ignorance, but their
elevation in knowledge would, ere long, revolutionize the whole. There
can be no doubt as to the important and beneficial results it has
accomplished, with all its defects, in perpetuating and strengthening
the system of government, and securing to the people a more equitable
and vigorous body of magistrates than they could get in any other
way. It offers an honorable career to the most ambitious, talented,
or turbulent spirits in the country, which demands all their powers;
and by the time they enter upon office, those aspirations and powers
have been drilled and molded into useful service, and are ever after
devoted to the maintenance of the system they might otherwise have
wrecked. Most of the real benefits of Chinese education and this system
of examinations are reached before the conferment of the degree of
_kü-jin_. These consist in diffusing a general respect and taste for
letters among the people; in calling out the true talent of the country
to the notice of the rulers in an honorable path of effort; in making
all persons so thoroughly acquainted with the best moral books in the
language that they cannot fail to exercise some salutary restraint;
in elevating the general standard of education so much that every man
is almost compelled to give his son a little learning in order that
he may get along in life; and finally, through all these influences,
powerfully contributing to uphold the existing institutions of the
Empire.
From the intimate knowledge thus obtained of the writings of their
best minds, Chinese youth learn the principles of democratic rule
as opposed to personal authority; and from this instruction it has
resulted that no monarch has ever been able to use a standing army to
enslave the people, or seize the proceeds of their industry for his
own selfish ends. Nothing in Chinese politics is more worthy of notice
than the unbounded reverence for the Emperor, while each man resists
unjust taxation, and joins in killing or driving away oppressive
officials. Educated men form the only aristocracy in the land; and the
attainment of the first degree, by introducing its owner into the class
of _gentry_, is considered ample compensation for all the expense and
study spent in getting it. On the whole, it may safely be asserted
that these examinations have done more to maintain the stability,
and explain the continuance, of the Chinese government than any other
single cause.
~ITS PRACTICAL DEFECTS AND CORRUPTION.~
The principal defects and malversations in the system can soon be
shown. Some are inherent, but others rather prove the badness of the
material than of the system and its harmonious workings. One great
difficulty in the way of the graduated students attaining office
according to their merits is the favor shown to those who can buy
nominal and real honors. Two censors, in 1822, laid a document before
his Majesty, in which the evils attendant on selling office are shown;
viz., elevating priests, highwaymen, merchants, and other unworthy or
uneducated men, to responsible stations, and placing insurmountable
difficulties in the way of hard-working, worthy students reaching the
reward of their toil. They state that the plan of selling offices
commenced during the Han dynasty, but speak of the greater disgrace
attendant upon the plan at the present time, because the avails
all go into the privy purse instead of being applied to the public
service; they recommend, therefore, a reduction in the disbursements
of the imperial establishment. Among the items mentioned by these
oriental Joseph Humes, which they consider extravagant, are a lac of
taels (100,000) for flowers and rouge in the seraglio, and 120,000 in
salaries to waiting-boys; two lacs were expended on the gardens of
Yuenming, and almost half a million of taels upon the parks at Jeh
ho, while the salaries to officers and presents to women at Yuenming
were over four lacs. “If these few items of expense were abolished,”
they add, “there would be a saving of more than a million of taels of
useless expenditure; talent might be brought forward to the service of
the country, and the people’s wealth be secured.”
In consequence of the extensive sale of offices, they state that more
than five thousand _tsin-sz’_ doctors, and more than twenty-seven
thousand _kü-jin_ licentiates, are waiting for employment; and those
first on the list obtained their degrees thirty years ago, so that the
probability is that when at last employed, they will be too old for
service, and be declared superannuated in the first examination of
official merits and demerits. The rules to be observed at the regular
examinations are strict, but no questions are asked the buyers of
office; and they enter, too, on their duties as soon as the money is
paid. The censors quote three sales, whose united proceeds amounted
to a quarter of a million of taels, and state that the whole income
from this source for twenty years was only a few lacs. Examples of the
flagitious conduct of these purse-proud magistrates are quoted in proof
of the bad results of the plan. “Thus the priest Siang Yang, prohibited
from holding office, bought his way to one; the intendant at Ningpo,
from being a mounted highwayman, bought his way to office; besides
others of the vilest parentage. But the covetousness and cruelty of
these men are denominated purity and intelligence; they inflict severe
punishments, which make the people terrified, and their superiors point
them out as possessing decision: these are our able officers!”
After animadverting on the general practice “of all officers, from
governor-generals down to village magistrates, combining to gain their
purposes by hiding the truth from the sovereign,” and specifying the
malversations of Tohtsin, the premier, in particular, they close their
paper with a protestation of their integrity. “If your Majesty deems
what we have now stated to be right, and will act thereon in the
government, you will realize the designs of the souls of your sacred
ancestors; and the army, the nation, and the poor people, will have
cause for gladness of heart. Should we be subjected to the operation
of the hatchet, or suffer death in the boiling caldron, we will not
decline it.”
These censors place the proceeds of “button scrip” far too low, for
in 1826, the sale produced about six millions of taels, and was
continued at intervals during the three following years. In 1831, one
of the sons of Howqua was created a _kü-jin_ by patent for having
subscribed nearly fifty thousand dollars to repair the dikes near
Canton; and upon another was conferred the rank and title of “director
of the salt monopoly” for a lac of taels toward the war in Turkestan.
Neither of these persons ever held any office of power, nor probably
did they expect it; and such may be the case with many of those who
are satisfied with the titles and buttons, feathers and robes, which
their money procures. The sale of office is rather accepted as a State
necessity which does not necessarily bring tyrants upon the bench;
but when, as was the case in 1863, Peiching, head of the Examining
Board at Peking, fraudulently issued two or three diplomas, his
execution vindicated the law, and deterred similar tampering with the
life-springs of the system. During the present dynasty, military men
have been frequently appointed to magistracies, and the detail of their
offices intrusted to needy scholars, which has tended, still further,
to disgust and dishearten the latter from resorting to the literary
arena.
The language itself of the Chinese, which has for centuries aided in
preserving their institutions and strengthening national homogeneity
amid so many local varieties of speech, is now rather in the way of
their progress, and may be pointed to as another unfortunate feature
which infects this system of education and examination; for it is
impossible for a native to write a treatise on grammar about another
language in his own tongue, through which another Chinese can, unaided,
learn to speak that language. This people have, therefore, no ready
means of learning the best thoughts of foreign minds. Such being the
case, the ignorance of their first scholars as regards other races,
ages, and lands has been their misfortune far more than their fault,
and they have suffered the evils of their isolation. One has been an
utter ignorance of what would have conferred lasting benefit resulting
from the study of outside conceptions of morals, science, and politics.
Inasmuch as neither geography, natural history, mathematics, nor the
history or languages of other lands forms part of the curriculum,
these men, trained alone in the classics, have naturally grown up
with distorted views of their own country. The officials are imbued
with conceit, ignorance, and arrogance as to its power, resources,
and comparative influence, and are helpless when met by greater
skill or strength. However, these disadvantages, great as they are
and have been, have mostly resulted naturally from their secluded
position, and are rapidly yielding to the new influences which are
acting upon government and people. To one contemplating this startling
metamorphosis, the foremost wish, indeed, must be that these causes do
not disintegrate their ancient economies too fast for the recuperation
and preservation of whatever is good therein.
~SALE OF DEGREES AND FORGED DIPLOMAS.~
Another evil is the bribery practised to attain the degrees. By certain
signs placed on the essays, the examiner can easily pick out those
he is to approve; $8,000 was said to be the price of a bachelor’s
degree in Canton, but this sum is within the reach of few out of the
six thousand candidates. The poor scholars sell their services to the
rich, and for a certain price will enter the hall of examination,
and personate their employer, running the risk and penalties of a
disgraceful exposure if detected; for a less sum they will drill them
before examination, or write the essays entirely, which the rich booby
must commit to memory. The purchase of forged diplomas is another
mode of obtaining a graduate’s honors, which, from some discoveries
made at Peking, is so extensively practised, that when this and other
corruptions are considered, it is surprising that any person can be so
eager in his studies, or confident of his abilities, as ever to think
he can get into office by them alone. In 1830, the _Gazette_ contained
some documents showing that an inferior officer, aided by some of the
clerks in the Board of Revenue, during the successive superintendence
of twenty presidents of the Board had sold twenty thousand four hundred
and nineteen forged diplomas; and in the province of Nganhwui, the
writers in the office attached to the Board of Revenue had carried
on the same practice for four years, and forty-six persons in that
province were convicted of possessing them. All the principal criminals
convicted at this time were sentenced to decapitation, but these cases
are enough to show that the real talent of the country does not often
find its way into the magistrate’s seat without the aid of money; nor
is it likely that the tales of such delinquencies often appear in the
_Gazette_. Literary chancellors also sell bachelors’ degrees to the
exclusion of deserving poor scholars; the office of the _hiohching_ of
Kiangsí was searched in 1828 by a special commission, and four lacs
of taels found in it; he hung himself to avoid further punishment, as
did also the same dignitary in Canton in 1833, as was supposed, for a
similar cause. It is in this way, no doubt, that the ill-gotten gains
of most officers return to the general circulation.
Notwithstanding these startling corruptions, which seem to involve the
principle on which the harmony and efficiency of the whole machinery
of state stand, it cannot be denied, judging from the results, that
the highest officers of the Chinese government do possess a very
respectable rank of talent and knowledge, and carry on the unwieldy
machine with a degree of integrity, patriotism, industry, and good
order which shows that the leading minds in it are well chosen. The
person who has originally obtained his rank by a forged diploma,
or by direct purchase, cannot hope to rise or to maintain even his
first standing, without some knowledge and parts. One of the three
commissioners whom Kíying associated with himself in his negotiations
with the American minister in 1844, was a supernumerary _chíhien_ of
forbidding appearance, who could hardly write a common document, but
it was easy to see the low estimation the ignoramus was held in. It
may therefore be fairly inferred that enough large prizes are drawn to
incite successive generations of scholars to compete for them, and thus
to maintain the literary spirit of the people. At these examinations
the superior minds of the country are brought together in large bodies,
and thus they learn each others views, and are able to check official
oppressions with something like a public opinion. In Peking the
concourse of several thousands, from the remotest provinces, to compete
at or assist in the triennial examinations, exerts a great and healthy
influence upon their rulers and themselves. Nothing like it ever has
been seen in any other metropolis.
~INFLUENCE AND RESPECT OBTAINED BY BACHELORS.~
The enjoyment of no small degree of power and influence in their
native village, is also to be considered in estimating the rewards
of studious toil, whether the student get a diploma or not; and this
local consideration is the most common reward attending the life of a
scholar. In those villages where no governmental officer is specially
appointed, such men are almost sure to become the headmen and most
influential persons in the very spot where a Chinese loves to be
distinguished. Graduates are likewise allowed to erect flag-staffs, or
put up a red sign over the door of their houses showing the degree
they have obtained, which is both a harmless and gratifying reward of
study; like the additions of _Cantab._ or _Oxon._, D.D. or LL.D., to
their owner’s names in other lands.
The fortune attending the unsuccessful candidates is various. Thousands
of them get employment as school-teachers, pettifogging notaries,
and clerks in the public offices, and others who are rich return to
their families. Some are reduced by degrees to beggary, and resort to
medicine, fortune-telling, letter-writing, and other such shifts to
eke out a living. Many turn their attention to learning the modes of
drawing up deeds and forms used in dealings regarding property; others
look to aiding military men in their duties, and a few turn authors,
and thus in one way or another contrive to turn their learning to
account.
During the period of the examinations, when the students are assembled
in the capital, the officers of government are careful not to irritate
them by punishment, or offend their _esprit de corps_, but rather,
by admonitions and warnings, induce them to set a good example.
The personal reputation of the officer himself has much to do with
the influence he exerts over the students, and whether they will
heed his _caveats_. One of the examiners in Chehkiang, irritated
by the impertinence of a bachelor, who presumed upon his immunity
from corporeal chastisement, twisted his ears to teach him better
manners; soon after, the student and two others of equal degree were
accused before the same magistrate for a libel, and one of them
beaten forty strokes upon his palms. At the ensuing examination,
ten of the _siu-tsai_, indignant at this unauthorized treatment,
refused to appear, and all the candidates, when they saw who was to
preside, dispersed immediately. In his memorial upon the matter, the
governor-general recommends both this officer, and another one who
talked much about the affair and produced a great effect upon the
public mind, to be degraded, and the bachelors to be stripped of their
honors. A magistrate of Honan, having punished a student with twenty
blows, the assembled body of students rose and threw their caps on
the ground, and walked off, leaving him alone. The prefect of Canton,
in 1842, having become obnoxious to the citizens from the part he
took in ransoming the city when surrounded by the British forces, the
students refused to receive him as their examiner, and when he appeared
in the hall to take his seat, drove him out of the room by throwing
their ink-stones at him; he soon after resigned his station. Perhaps
the _siu-tsai_ are more impatient than the _kü-jin_ from being better
acquainted with each other, and being examined by local officers, while
the _kü-jin_ are overawed by the rank of the commissioners, and, coming
from distant parts of a large province, have little mutual sympathy
or acquaintance. The examining boards, however, take pains to avoid
displeasing any gathering of graduates.
We have seen, then, in what has been of necessity a somewhat cursory
_resumé_, the management and extent of an institution which has opened
the avenues of rank to all, by teaching candidates how to maintain
the principles of liberty and equality they had learned from their
oft-quoted ‘ancients.’ All that these institutions need, to secure and
promote the highest welfare of the people--as they themselves, indeed,
aver--is their faithful execution in every department of government;
as we find them, no higher evidence of their remarkable wisdom can be
adduced, than the general order and peace of the land. When one sees
the injustice and oppressions in law courts, the feuds and deadly
fights among clans, the prevalence of lying, ignorance, and pollution
among commoners, and the unscrupulous struggle for a living going on in
every rank of life, he wonders that universal anarchy does not destroy
the whole machine. But ‘the powers that be are ordained of God.’ The
Chinese seem to have attained the great ends of human government to as
high a degree as it is possible for man to go without the knowledge of
divine revelation. That, in its great truths, its rewards, its hopes,
and its stimulus to good acts has yet to be received among them. The
course and results of the struggle between the new and the old in the
land of Sinim will form a remarkable chapter in the history of man.
~FEMALE EDUCATION IN CHINA.~
With regard to female education, it is a singular anomaly among Chinese
writers, that while they lay great stress upon maternal instruction in
forming the infant mind, and leading it on to excellence, no more of
them should have turned their attention to the preparation of books for
girls, and the establishment of female schools. There are some reasons
for the absence of the latter to be found in the state of society,
notable among which must stand, of course, the low position of woman in
every oriental community, and a general contempt for the capacity of
the female mind. It is, moreover, impossible to procure many qualified
schoolmistresses, and to this we must add the hazard of sending girls
out into the streets alone, where they would run some risk of being
stolen. The principal stimulus for boys to study--the hope and prospect
of office--is taken away from girls, and Chinese literature offers
little to repay them for the labor of learning it in addition to all
the domestic duties which devolve upon them. Nevertheless, education
is not entirely confined to the stronger sex; seminaries for young
women are not at all uncommon in South China, and it is not unusual
to find private tutors giving instruction to young ladies at their
houses.[288] Though this must be regarded as a comparative statement,
and holding much more for the southern than for the northern provinces,
on the other hand, it may be asserted that literary attainments are
considered creditable to a woman, more than is the case in India or
Siam; the names of authoresses mentioned in Chinese annals would make
a long list. Yuen Yuen, the governor-general of Canton, in 1820, while
in office, published a volume of his deceased daughter’s poetical
effusions; and literary men are usually desirous of having their
daughters accomplished in music and poetry, as well as in composition
and classical lore. Such an education is considered befitting their
station, and reflecting credit on the family.
One of the most celebrated female writers in China is Pan Hwui-pan,
also known as Pan Chao, a sister of the historian Pan Ku, who wrote the
history of the former Han dynasty. She was appointed historiographer
after his death, and completed his unfinished annals; she died at the
age of seventy, and was honored by the Emperor Ho with a public burial,
and the title of the Great Lady Tsao. About A.D. 80, she was made
preceptress of the Empress, and wrote the first work in any language
on female education; it was called _Nü Kiai_ or _Female Precepts_, and
has formed the basis of many succeeding books on female education.
The aim of her writings was to elevate female character, and make it
virtuous. She says, “The virtue of a female does not consist altogether
in extraordinary abilities or intelligence, but in being modestly
grave and inviolably chaste, observing the requirements of virtuous
widowhood, and in being tidy in her person and everything about her;
in whatever she does to be unassuming, and whenever she moves or sits
to be decorous. This is female virtue.” Instruction in morals and
the various branches of domestic economy are more insisted upon in
the writings of this and other authoresses, than a knowledge of the
classics or histories of the country.
~THE “FEMALE INSTRUCTOR” ON WOMEN.~
One of the most distinguished Chinese essayists of modern times,
Luhchau, published a work for the benefit of the sex, called the
_Female Instructor_; an extract from his preface will show what ideas
are generally entertained on female education by Chinese moralists.
“The basis of the government of the Empire lies in the habits of
the people, and the surety that their usages will be correct is in
the orderly management of families, which last depends chiefly upon
the females. In the good old times of Chau, the virtuous women set
such an excellent example that it influenced the customs of the
Empire--an influence that descended even to the times of the Ching
and Wei states. If the curtain of the inner apartment gets thin, or
is hung awry [_i.e._, if the sexes are not kept apart], disorder
will enter the family, and ultimately pervade the Empire. Females
are doubtless the sources of good manners; from ancient times to the
present this has been the case. The inclination to virtue and vice
in women differs exceedingly; their dispositions incline contrary
ways, and if it is wished to form them alike, there is nothing like
education. In ancient times, youth of both sexes were instructed.
According to the _Ritual of Chau_, ‘the imperial wives regulated
the law for educating females, in order to instruct the ladies of
the palace in morals, conversation, manners, and work; and each led
out her respective classes, at proper times, and arranged them for
examination in the imperial presence.’ But these treatises have not
reached us, and it cannot be distinctly ascertained what was their
plan of arrangement....
“The education of a woman and that of a man are very dissimilar.
Thus, a man can study during his whole life; whether he is abroad
or at home, he can always look into the classics and history, and
become thoroughly acquainted with the whole range of authors. But a
woman does not study more than ten years, when she takes upon her
the management of a family, where a multiplicity of cares distract
her attention, and having no leisure for undisturbed study, she
cannot easily understand learned authors; not having obtained a
thorough acquaintance with letters, she does not fully comprehend
their principles; and like water that has flowed from its fountain,
she cannot regulate her conduct by their guidance. How can it be
said that a standard work on female education is not wanted! Every
profession and trade has its appropriate master; and ought not
those also who possess such an influence over manners [as females]
to be taught their duties and their proper limits? It is a matter
of regret, that in these books no extracts have been made from
the works of Confucius in order to make them introductory to the
writings on polite literature; and it is also to be regretted that
selections have not been made from the commentaries of Ching, Chu,
and other scholars, who have explained his writings clearly, as also
from the whole range of writers, gathering from them all that which
was appropriate, and omitting the rest. These are circulated among
mankind, together with such books as the _Juvenile Instructor_;
yet if they are put into the hands of females, they cause them
to become like a blind man without a guide, wandering hither and
thither without knowing where he is going. There has been this great
deficiency from very remote times until now.
“Woman’s influence is according to her moral character, therefore
that point is largely explained. First, concerning her obedience to
her husband and to his parents; then in regard to her complaisance
to his brothers and sisters, and kindness to her sisters-in-law. If
unmarried, she has duties toward her parents, and to the wives of her
elder brothers; if a principal wife, a woman must have no jealous
feelings; if in straitened circumstances, she must be contented
with her lot; if rich and honorable, she must avoid extravagance
and haughtiness. Then teach her, in times of trouble and in days of
ease, how to maintain her purity, how to give importance to right
principles, how to observe widowhood, and how to avenge the murder
of a relative. Is she a mother, let her teach her children; is she a
step-mother, let her love and cherish her husband’s children; is her
rank in life high, let her be condescending to her inferiors; let her
wholly discard all sorcerers, superstitious nuns, and witches; in a
word let her adhere to propriety and avoid vice.
“In conversation, a female should not be froward and garrulous, but
observe strictly what is correct, whether in suggesting advice to
her husband, in remonstrating with him, or teaching her children,
in maintaining etiquette, humbly imparting her experience, or in
averting misfortune. The deportment of females should be strictly
grave and sober, and yet adapted to the occasion; whether in waiting
on her parents, receiving or reverencing her husband, rising up or
sitting down, when pregnant, in times of mourning, or when fleeing
in war, she should be perfectly decorous. Rearing the silkworm and
working cloth are the most important of the employments of a female;
preparing and serving up the food for the household, and setting in
order the sacrifices, follow next, each of which must be attended
to; after them, study and learning can fill up the time.”[289]
The work thus prefaced, is similar to Sprague’s _Letters to a
Daughter_, rather than to a text-book, or a manual intended to be read
and obeyed rather than recited by young ladies. Happy would it be
for the country, however, if the instructions given by this moralist
were followed; it is a credit to a pagan, to write such sentiments as
the following: “During infancy, a child ardently loves its mother,
who knows all its traits of goodness: while the father, perhaps,
cannot know about it, there is nothing which the mother does not see.
Wherefore the mother teaches more effectually, and only by her unwise
fondness does her son become more and more proud (as musk by age
becomes sourer and stronger), and is thereby nearly ruined.”--“Heavenly
order is to bless the good and curse the vile; he who sins against
it will certainly receive his punishment sooner or later: from lucid
instruction springs the happiness of the world. If females are
unlearned, they will be like one looking at a wall, they will know
nothing: if they are taught, they will know, and knowing they will
imitate their examples.”
It is vain to expect, however, that any change in the standing of
females, or extent of their education, will take place until influences
from abroad are brought to bear upon them--until the same work that is
elsewhere elevating them to their proper place in society by teaching
them the principles on which that elevation is founded, and how they
can themselves maintain it, is begun. The Chinese do not, by any means,
make slaves of their females, and if a comparison be made between their
condition in China and other modern unevangelized countries, or even
with ancient kingdoms or Moslem races, it will in many points acquit
them of much of the obloquy they have received on this behalf.
~EXTRACT FROM A GIRLS’ PRIMER.~
There are some things which tend to show that more of the sex read and
write sufficiently for the ordinary purposes of life, than a slight
examination would at first indicate. Among these may be mentioned the
letter-writers compiled for their use, in which instructions are given
for every variety of note and epistle, except, perhaps, love letters.
The works just mentioned, intended for their improvement, form an
additional fact. A Manchu official of rank, named Sin-kwăn, who rose
to be governor of Kiangsí in Kiaking’s reign, wrote a primer in 1838,
for girls, called the _Nü-rh Yü_, or ‘_Words for Women and Girls_.’ It
is in lines of four characters, and consists of aphorisms and short
precepts on household management, behavior, care of children, neatness,
etc., so written as to be easily memorized. It shows one of the ways in
which literary men interest themselves, in educating youth, and further
that there is a demand for such books. A few lines from this primer
will exhibit its tenor:
Vile looks should never meet your eye,
Nor filthy words defile your ear;
Ne’er look on men of utterance gross,
Nor tread the ground which they pollute.
Keep back the heart from thoughts impure,
Nor let your hands grow fond of sloth;
Then no o’ersight or call deferred
Will, when you’re pressed, demand your time.
In all your care of tender babes,
Mind lest they’re fed or warmed too much;
The childish liberty first granted
Must soon be checked by rule and rein;
Guard them from water, fire, and fools;
Mind lest they’re hurt or maimed by falls.
All flesh and fruits when ill with colds
Are noxious drugs to tender bairns--
Who need a careful oversight,
Yet want some license in their play.
Be strict in all you bid them do,
For this will guard from ill and woe.
The pride taken by girls in showing their knowledge of letters is
evidence that it is not common, while the general respect in which
literary ladies are held proves them not to be so very rare; though
for all practical good, it may be said that half of the Chinese people
know nothing of books. The fact that female education is so favorably
regarded is encouraging to those philanthropic persons and ladies who
are endeavoring to establish female schools at the mission stations,
since they have not prejudice to contend with in addition to ignorance.
FOOTNOTES:
[269] Compare Du Halde, _Description de l’Empire de la Chine_, Tome
II., pp. 365-384; A. Wylie, _Notes_, p. 68; _Chinese Repository_, Vols.
V., p. 81, and VI., pp. 185, 393, and 562; _China Review_, Vol. VI.,
pp. 120, 195, 253, 328, etc.; _New Englander_, May, 1878.
[270] _Chinese Repository_, Vol. IV., pp. 83-87, 306-316.
[271] Morrison’s _Chinese Dictionary_, Vol. I., Part I., pp. 749-758.
[272] This custom obtains also in Bokhara.
[273] Compare Dr. Morrison in the _Horæ Sinicæ_, pp. 122-146; B.
Jenkins, _The Three-Character Classic, romanized according to
the Shanghai dialect_, Shanghai, 1860. The Classic has also been
translated into Latin, French, German, Russian, and Portuguese. For
the Trimetrical Classic of the Tai-ping régime see a version in the
_North China Herald_, No. 147, May 21, 1853, by Dr. Medhurst; also a
translation by Rev. S. C. Malan, of Balliol College, Oxford. London,
1856.
[274] E. C. Bridgman in the _Chinese Repository_, Vol. IV., p. 152.
_Livre de Cent familles_, Perny, _Dict._, App., No. XIV., pp. 156 ff.
[275] _Chinese Repository_, Vol. IV., p. 229.
[276] Compare _Das Tsiän dsü wen, oder Buch von Tausend Wörtern, aus
dem Schinesischen, mit Berücksichtigung der Koraischen und Japanischen
Uebersetzung, ins Deutsche übertragen_, Ph. Fr. de Siebold, _Nippon_,
Abh. IV., pp. 165-191; B. Jenkins, _The Thousand-Character Classic,
romanized_, etc. Shanghai, 1860; _Thsien-Tseu-Wen_, _Le Livre des Mille
Mots_, etc., par Stanislas Julien (with Chinese text), Paris, 1864;
_China Review_, Vol. II., pp. 182 ff.
[277] _Chinese Repository_, Vol. X., p. 614.
[278] Compare Père Cibot in _Mémoires concernant les Chinois_, Tome
IV., pp. 1 ff.; Dr. Legge, _The Sacred Books of China_, Part I. _The
Shû-king, Religious Portions of the Shih-king, the Hsiâo-king_, Oxford,
1879; _Asiatic Journal_, Vol. XXIX., pp. 302 ff., 1839.
[279] _Chinese Repository_, Vol. VI., p. 131.
[280] _Chinese Repository_, Vol. IV., p. 414. See also Vol. VI., pp.
229-241; Vol. IV., pp. 1-10; Vol. XI., pp. 545-557; and Vol. XIII., pp.
626-641, for further notices of the modes and objects of education;
Biot, _Essai sur l’Histoire de l’Instruction Publique en Chine_,
and his translation of the _Chao-lí_, Vol. II., p. 27, Paris, 1851.
_Chinese Recorder_, September, 1871.
[281] _Chinese Repository_, Vol. II., p. 249; Vol. XVI., pp. 67-72.
Doolittle, _Social Life of the Chinese_, Vol. I., pp. 376-443. Dr.
Martin, _The Chinese_.
[282] _The Chinese_, p. 50.
[283] Biot, _Essai sur l’Instruction en Chine_, p. 603.
[284] _Chinese Repository_, Vol. IX., p. 541; Vol. III., p. 118.
[285] See Morrison’s _Chinese Dictionary_, Vol. I., Part I., pp.
759-779, for the laws and usages of the several trials. Also
Doolittle’s _Social Life_, Vol. I., Chaps. XV., XVI., and XVII.; Biot,
_Essai sur l’Histoire de l’Instruction Publique en Chine_; W. A. P.
Martin, _The Chinese_, pp. 39 ff.; _Journal Asiatique_, Tomes III., pp.
257 and 321, IV., p. 3, and VII. (3d Series, 1839), pp. 32-81; _Journal
Asiatic Soc. Bengal_, Vol. XXVIII., No. 1, 1859; _Journal N. C. Br. B.
As. Soc._, New Series, Vol. VI., pp. 129 ff.; _China Review_, Vol. II.,
p. 309.
[286] Ellis, _Embassy to China_, p. 87; _Chinese Repository_, Vol.
XVI., p. 62; Vol. IV., p. 125.
[287] Davis, _Sketches_, Vol. I., pp. 99, 101.
[288] Archdeacon Gray, _China_, Vol. I., p. 167.
[289] _Chinese Repository_, Vol. IX., p. 542.
CHAPTER X.
STRUCTURE OF THE CHINESE LANGUAGE.
It might reasonably be inferred, judging from the attention paid to
learning, and the honors conferred upon its successful votaries,
that the literature of the Chinese would contain much to repay
investigation. Such is not the case, however, to one already acquainted
with the treasures of Western science, and, in fairness, such a
comparison is not quite just. Yet it has claims to the regard of the
general student, from its being the literature of so vast a portion
of the human species, and the result of the labors of its wisest and
worthiest minds during many successive ages. The fact that it has been
developed under a peculiar civilization, and breathes a spirit so
totally different from the writings of Western sages and philosophers,
perhaps increases the curiosity to learn what are its excellences and
defects, and obtain some criteria by which to compare it with the
literature of other Asiatic or even European nations. The language in
which it is written--one peculiarly mystical and diverse from all other
media of thought--has also added to its singular reputation, for it
has been surmised that what is “wrapped up” in such complex characters
must be pre-eminently valuable for matter or elegant for manner, and
not less curious than profound. Although a candid examination of this
literature will disclose its real mediocrity in points of research,
learning, and genius, there yet remains enough to render it worthy the
attention of the oriental or general student.
~INFLUENCE OF THE LANGUAGE UPON LITERATURE.~
Some of its peculiarities are owing to the nature of the language, and
the mode of instruction, both of which have affected the style and
thoughts of writers: for, having, when young, been taught to form
their sentences upon the models of antiquity, their efforts to do
so have moulded their thoughts in the same channel. Imitation, from
being a duty, soon became a necessity. The Chinese scholar, forsaking
the leadings of his own genius, soon learned to regard his models
as not only being all truth themselves, but as containing the sum
total of all things valuable. The intractable nature of the language,
making it impossible to study other tongues through the medium of his
own, moreover tended to repress all desire in the scholar to become
acquainted with foreign books; and as he knew nothing of them or their
authors, it was easy to conclude that there was nothing worth knowing
in them, nothing to repay the toil of study, or make amends for the
condescension of ascertaining. The neighbors of the Chinese have
unquestionably been their inferiors in civilization, good government,
learning, and wealth; and this fact has nourished their conceit,
and repressed the wish to travel, and ascertain what there was in
remoter regions. In judging of the character of Chinese literature,
therefore, these circumstances among others under which it has risen
to its present bulk, must not be overlooked; we shall conclude that
the uniformity running through it is perhaps owing as much to the
isolation of the people and servile imitation of their models, as to
their genius: each has, in fact, mutually acted upon and influenced the
other.
The “homoglot” character of the Chinese people has arisen more from
the high standard of their literature, and the political institutions
growing out of its canonical books (which have impelled and rewarded
the efforts of students to master the language), than from any one
other cause. This feature offers a great contrast to the polyglot
character which the Romans possessed even to the last, and suggests
the cause and results as interesting topics of inquiry. The Egyptian,
Jewish, Syriac, Greek, and Latin languages had each its own national
literature, and its power was enough to retain these several nations
attached to their own mother tongue, while the Gauls, Iberians,
and other subject peoples, having no books, took the language and
literature of their rulers and conquerors. Thus the kingdom, “part iron
and part clay,” fell apart as soon as the grasp of Rome was weakened;
while the tendency in China always has been to reunite and homologate.
In this short account of the Chinese tongue, it will be sufficient to
give such notices of the origin and construction of the characters, and
of the idioms and sounds of the written and spoken language, as shall
convey a general notion of all its parts, and to show the distinction
between the spoken and written media, and their mutual action. They
are both archaic, because the symbols prevented all inflexion and
agglutination in the sounds, and all signs to indicate what part of
speech each belonged to. They are like the ten digits, containing no
vocable and imparting their meaning more to the eye than the ear.
Chinese writers, unable to trace the gradual formation of their
characters (for, of course, there could be no intelligible historical
data until long after their formation), have ascribed them to Hwangtí,
one of their primeval monarchs, or even earlier, to Fuh-hí, some thirty
centuries before Christ; as if they deemed writing to be as needful to
man as clothes or marriage, all of which came from Fuh-hí. A mythical
personage, Tsang-kieh, who flourished about B.C. 2700, is credited with
the invention of symbols to represent ideas, from noticing the marking
on tortoise-shell, and thence imitating common objects in nature.
The Japanese have tried to attach their _kana_ to the Chinese
characters to indicate the case or tense, but the combination looks
incongruous to an educated Chinese. We might express, though somewhat
crudely, analogous combinations in English by endeavoring to write
_1-ty_, _1-ness_, _1-ted_, for _unity_, _oneness_, _united_, or _3-1
God_ for _triune God_.
At this crisis, when a medium for conveying and giving permanency to
ideas was formed, Chinese historians say: “The heavens, the earth,
and the gods, were all agitated. The inhabitants of hades wept at
night; and the heavens, as an expression of joy, rained down ripe
grain. From the invention of writing, the machinations of the human
heart began to operate; stories false and erroneous daily increased,
litigations and imprisonments sprang up; hence, also, specious and
artful language, which causes so much confusion in the world. It was
for these reasons that the shades of the departed wept at night. But
from the invention of writing, polite intercourse and music proceeded;
reason and justice were made manifest; the relations of social life
were illustrated, and laws became fixed. Governors had laws to which
they might refer; scholars had authorities to venerate; and hence, the
heavens, delighted, rained down ripe grain. The classical scholar,
the historian, the mathematician, and the astronomer can none of them
do without writing; were there no written language to afford proof of
passing events, the shades might weep at noonday, and the heavens rain
down blood.”[290] This singular myth may, perhaps, cover a genuine fact
worthy of more than passing notice--indicating a consentaneous effort
of the early settlers on the Yellow River to substitute for the purpose
of recording laws and events something more intelligible than the
knotted cords previously in use. Its form presents a curious contrast
to the personality of the fable of Cadmus and his invention of the
Greek letters.
~ORIGIN OF THE LANGUAGE.~
The date of the origin of this language, like that of the letters of
Western alphabets, is lost in the earliest periods of post-diluvian
history, but there can be no doubt that it is the most ancient language
now spoken, and along with the Egyptian and cuneiform, among the oldest
written languages used by man. The Ethiopic and Coptic, the Sanscrit
and Pali, the Syriac, Aramaic, and Pehlvic, have all become dead
languages; and the Greek, Latin, and Persian, now spoken, differ so
much from the ancient style, as to require special study to understand
the books in them: while during successive eras, the written and spoken
language of the Chinese has undergone few alterations, and done much to
deepen the broad line of demarkation between them and other branches of
the human race. The fact, then, that this is the only living language
which has survived the lapse of ages is, doubtless, owing to its
ideographic character and its entire absence of sound as an integral
factor of any symbol. Their form and meaning were, therefore, only
the more strongly united because each reader was at liberty to sound
them as he pleased or had been taught by local instructors. He was not
hindered, on account of his local _brogue_, from communicating ideas
with those who employed the same signs in writing. Upon the subsequent
rise of a great and valuable literature, the maintenance of the written
language was the chief element of national life and integrity among
those peoples who read and admired the books. Nor has this language,
like those of the Hebrews, the Assyrians, and others already mentioned,
ever fallen into disuse and been supplanted by the sudden rise and
physical or intellectual vigor of some neighboring community speaking a
_patois_. For we find that alphabetic languages, whose words represent
at once meaning and sound, are as dependent upon local dialects as is
the Chinese tongue upon its symbols; consequently, when in the former
case the sounds had so altered that the meanings were obscured, the
mode of writing was likely to be changed. The extent of its literature
and uses made of it were then the only safeguard of the written forms;
while as men learned to read books they became more and more prone to
associate sense and form, regarding the sound as traditionary. We have,
in illustration of this, to look no further than to our own language,
whose cumbersome spelling is in a great measure resulting from a
dislike of changing old associations of sense and form which would be
involved in the adoption of a phonetic system.
The Chinese have had no inducement, at any stage of their existence,
to alter the forms of their symbols, inasmuch as no nation in Asia
contiguous to their own has ever achieved a literature which could
rival theirs; no conqueror came to impose his tongue upon them;
their language completely isolated them from intellectual intercourse
with others. This isolation, fraught with many disadvantages in the
contracted nature of their literature, and the reflux, narrowing
influence on their minds, has not been without its compensations. A
national life of a unique sort has resulted, and to this self-nurtured
language may be traced the origin of much of the peace, industry,
population, and healthy pride of the Chinese people.
~IDEOGRAPHIC NATURE OF THE SYMBOLS.~
The Chinese have paid great and praiseworthy attention to their
language, and furnished us with all needed books to its study.
Premising that the original symbols were ideographic, the necessities
of the case compelled their contraction as much as possible, and soon
resulted in arbitrary signs for all common uses. Their symbols varied,
indeed, at different times and in different States; it was not until
a genuine literature appeared and its readers multiplied that the
variants were dropped and uniformity sought. The original characters
of this language are derived from natural or artificial objects, of
which they were at first the rude outlines. Most of the forms are
preserved in the treatises of native philologists, where the changes
they have gradually undergone are shown. The number of objects chosen
at first was not great; among them were symbols for the sun, moon,
hills, animals, parts of the body, etc.; and in drawing them the
limners seem to have proposed nothing further than an outline sketch,
which, by the aid of a little explanation, would be intelligible. Thus
the picture [Illustration] would probably be recognized by all who saw it
as representing the _moon_; that of [Illustration] as a _fish_; and so of
others. It is apparent that the number of pictures which could be made
in this manner would hear no proportion to the wants and uses of a
language, and therefore recourse must soon be had to more complicated
symbols, to combining those already understood, or to the adoption of
arbitrary or phonetic signs. All these modes have been more or less
employed.
~SIX CLASSES OF CHARACTERS.~
Chinese philologists arrange all the characters in their language into
six classes, called _luh shu_, or ‘six writings.’ The first, called
_siang hing_, morphographs, or ‘imitative symbols,’ are those in which
a plain resemblance can be traced between the original form and the
object represented; they are among the first characters invented,
although the six hundred and eight placed in this class do not include
all the original symbols. These pristine forms have since been modified
so much that the resemblance has disappeared in most of them, caused
chiefly by the use of paper, ink, and pencils, instead of the iron
style and bamboo tablets formerly in use for writing; circular strokes
being more distinctly made with an iron point upon the hard wood than
with a hair pencil upon thin paper; angular strokes and square forms,
therefore, gradually took the place of round or curved ones, and
contracted characters came into use in place of the original imitative
symbols. In this class such characters as the following are given:
[Illustrations]
tortoise, chariot, child, elephant, deer, vase, hill, eye.
altered to
龜 車 子 象 鹿 壺 山 目
kwei, chí, tsz’, siang, luh, hu, shan, muh.
The second class, only one hundred and seven in number, is called
_chí sz’_, _i.e._, ‘symbols indicating thought.’ They differ from
the preceding chiefly in that the characters are formed by combining
previously formed symbols in such a way as to indicate some idea
easily deducible from their position or combination, and pointing out
some property or relative circumstance belonging to them. Chinese
philologists consider these two classes as comprising all the symbols
in the language, which depict objects either in whole or in part, and
whose meaning is apparent from the resemblance to the object, or from
the position of the parts. Among those placed in this class are,
[Illustration] moon half appearing, signifies evening; now written 夕
[Illustration] sun above the horizon, denotes morning; now written 旦
[Illustration] something in the mouth, meaning sweet; now written 甘
The third class, amounting to seven hundred and forty characters, is
called _hwui í_, _i.e._, ‘combined ideas,’ or ideographs, and comprises
characters made up of two or three symbols to form a single idea,
whose meanings are deducible either from their position, or supposed
relative influence upon each other. Thus the union of the sun and moon,
[Illustration] _ming_, expresses brightness; [Illustration] _kien_, a piece of
wood in a doorway, denotes obstruction; two trees stand for a forest,
as [Illustration] _lin_; and three for a thicket, as [Illustration] _săn_; two
men upon the ground conveys the idea of sitting; a _mouth_ in a _door_
signifies to ask; _man_ and _words_ means truth and to believe; _heart_
and _death_ imports forgetfulness; _dog_ and _mouth_ means to bark;
_woman_ and _broom_ denotes a wife, referring to her household duties;
_pencil_ and _to speak_ is a book, or to write. But in none of these
compounded characters is there anything like that perfection of picture
writing stated by some writers to belong to the language, which will
enable one unacquainted with the meaning of the separate symbols to
decide upon the signification of the combined group. On the contrary
it is in most cases certain that the third idea made by combining two
already known symbols, usually required more or less explanation to
fix its precise meaning, and remove the doubt which would otherwise
arise. For instance, the combination of the sun and moon might as
readily mean a solar or lunar eclipse, or denote the idea of time, as
brightness. A piece of wood in a doorway would almost as naturally
suggest a _threshold_ as an _obstruction_; and so of others. A straight
line in a doorway would more readily suggest a closed or bolted door,
which is the signification of 閂 _shan_, anciently written [Illustration];
but the idea intended to be conveyed by these combinations would need
prior explanation as much as the primitive symbol, though it would
thenceforth readily recur to mind when noticing the construction.
It is somewhat singular that the opinion should have obtained so much
credence, that their meanings were easily deducible from their shape
and construction. It might almost be said, that not a single character
can be accurately defined from a mere inspection of its parts; and the
meanings now given of some of those which come under this class are so
arbitrary and far-fetched, as to show that Chinese characters have not
been formed by rule and plummet more than words in other languages. The
mistake which Du Ponceau so learnedly combats arose, probably, from
confounding _sound_ with _construction_, and inferring that, because
persons of different nations, who used this as their written language,
could understand it when written, though mutually unintelligible when
speaking, that it addressed itself so entirely to the eye, as to need
no previous explanation.
The fourth class, called _chuen chu_, ‘inverted significations,’
includes three hundred and seventy-two characters, being such as by
some inversion, contraction, or alteration of their parts, acquire
different meanings. This class is not large, but these and other
modifications of the original symbols to express abstract and new ideas
show that those who used the language either saw at once how cumbrous
it would become if they went on forming imitative signs, or else that
their invention failed, and they resorted to changes more or less
arbitrary in characters already known to furnish distinctive signs
for different ideas. Thus _yu_ [Illustration] the _hand_, turning toward
the right means the right; inclined in the other direction, as _tso_
[Illustration] it means the left. The _heart_ placed beneath _slave_, 怒
signifies anger; _threads obstructed_, as [Illustration], means to sunder;
but turned the other way, as [Illustration], signifies continuous.
~METHOD OF FORMING PHONETIC CHARACTERS.~
The fifth class, called _kiai shing_, _i.e._, ‘uniting sound symbols,’
or phonogram, contains twenty-one thousand eight hundred and ten
characters, or nearly all in the language. They are formed of an
imitative symbol united to one which merely imparts its sound to the
compound; the former usually partakes more or less of the new idea,
while the latter loses its own meaning, and gives only its name. In
this respect, Chinese characters are superior to the Arabic numerals,
inasmuch as combinations like 25, 101, etc., although conveying
the same meaning to all nations using them, can _never_ indicate
sound. This plan of forming new combinations by the union of symbols
expressing idea and sound, enables the Chinese to increase the number
of characters without multiplying the original symbols; but these
compounds, or _lexigraphs_, as Du Ponceau calls them, do not increase
very rapidly. In Annam they have become so numerous in the course of
years that the Chinese books made in that country are hard to read.
The probable mode in which this arose can best be explained by a case
which occurred at Canton in 1832. Immature locusts were to be described
in a proclamation, but the word _nan_, by which they were called, was
not contained in any dictionary. It would be sufficient to designate
this insect to all persons living where it was found by selecting a
well-understood character, like 南 _south_, having the exact sound
_nan_, by which the insect itself was called, and joining it to the
determinative symbol _chung_ 虫 insect. It would then signify, to every
one who knew the sound and meaning of the component parts, the _insect
nan_; and be read _nan_, 蝻 meaning this very insect to the people in
Kwangtung. If this new combination was carried to a distant part of the
country, where the insect itself was unknown, it would convey no more
information to the Chinese who _saw_ the united symbol, than the sounds
_insect nan_ would to an Englishman who _heard_ them; to both persons
a meaning must be given by describing the insect. If, however, the
people living in this distant region called the phonetic part of the
new character by another sound, as _nam_, _nem_, or _lam_, they would
attach another name to the new compound, but the people on the spot
would, perhaps, not understand them when they spoke it by that name. If
they wrote it, however, both would give it the same signification, but
a different sound.
In this way, the thousands of characters under this class have probably
originated. But this rule of sounding them according to the phonetic
part is not in all cases certain; for in the lapse of time, the sounds
of many characters have changed, while those of the parts themselves
have not altered; in other cases, the parts have altered, and the
sounds remained; so that now only a great degree of probability as to
the correct sound can be obtained by inspecting the component parts.
The similarity in sound between most of the characters having the same
phonetic part is a great assistance in reading Chinese, though very
little in understanding it, and has had much influence in keeping the
sounds unchanged.
There are a few instances of an almost inadvertent arrival at a
true syllabic system, by which the initial consonant of one part,
when joined to the final vowel of the other, gives the sound of the
character; as _ma_ and _fí_, in the character 靡, when united in this
way, make _mí_. The meanings of the components are _hemp_ and _not_,
that of the compound is _extravagant_, _wasteful_, etc., showing no
relation to the primary signification. The number of such characters
is very small, and the syllabic composition here noticed is probably
fortuitous, and not intentional.
The sixth class, called _kia tsié_, _i.e._, ‘borrowed uses,’ includes
metaphoric symbols and combinations, in which the meaning is deduced
by a somewhat fanciful accommodation; their number is five hundred
and ninety-eight. They differ but little from the second class
of indicative symbols. For instance, the symbol 字 or [Illustration],
meaning a written character, is composed of a _child_ under a
_shelter_--characters being considered as the well-nurtured offspring
of hieroglyphics. The character for _hall_ means also _mother_, because
she constantly abides there. The word for _mind_ or _heart_ is _sin_
[Illustration], originally intended to represent that organ, but now used
chiefly in a metaphorical sense. Chinese grammarians find abundant
scope for the display of their fancy in explaining the etymology and
origin of the characters, but the aid which their researches give
toward understanding the language as at present used is small. This
classification under six heads is modern, and was devised as a means of
arranging what existed already, for they confess that their characters
were not formed according to fixed rules, and have gradually undergone
many changes.
The total number in the six classes is twenty-four thousand two hundred
and thirty-five, being many less than are found in Kanghí’s Dictionary,
which amount to forty-four thousand four hundred and forty-nine; but
in the larger sum are included the obsolete and synonymous characters,
which, if deducted, would reduce it to nearly the same number. It is
probable that the total of really different characters in the language
sanctioned by good usage, does not vary greatly from twenty-five
thousand, though authors have stated them at from fifty-four thousand
four hundred and nine, as Magaillans does, up to two hundred and sixty
thousand eight hundred and ninety-nine, as Montucci. The Chinese editor
of the large lexicon on which Dr. Morrison founded his Dictionary,
gives it as his opinion that there are fifty thousand characters,
including synonyms and different forms; and taking in every variety of
tones given to the words, and sounds for which no characters exist,
that there are five thousand different words. But even the sum of
twenty-five thousand different characters contains thousands of unusual
ones which are seldom met with, and which, as is the case with old
words in English, are not often learned.
The burden of remembering so many complicated symbols, whose form,
sound, and meanings are all necessary to enable the student to read
and write intelligibly, is so great that the result has been to
diminish those in common use, and increase their meanings. This course
of procedure really occurs in most languages, and in the Chinese
greatly reduces the labor of acquiring it. It may be safely said,
that a good knowledge of ten thousand characters will enable one to
read any work in Chinese, and write intelligibly on any subject; and
Prémare says a good knowledge of four or five thousand characters is
sufficient for all common purposes, while two-thirds of that number
might in fact suffice. The troublesome ones are either proper names or
technics peculiar to a particular science. The nine canonical works
contain altogether only four thousand six hundred and one _different_
characters, while in the Five Classics alone there are over two hundred
thousand words. The entire number of different characters in the code
of laws translated by Staunton is under two thousand.
~MODES OF ARRANGING CHARACTERS.~
The invention of printing and the compilation of dictionaries have
given to the form of modern characters a greater degree of certainty
than they had in ancient times. The variants of some of the most
common ones were exceedingly numerous before this period; Callery
gives forty-two different modes of writing _pao_, ‘precious;’ and
forty-one for writing _tsun_, ‘honorable;’ showing the absence of an
acknowledged standard, and the slight intercourse between learned men.
The best mode of arranging the characters so as to find them easily,
has been a subject of considerable trouble to Chinese lexicographers,
and the various methods they have adopted renders it difficult to
consult their dictionaries without considerable previous knowledge
of the language. In some, those having the same sound are grouped
together, so that it is necessary to know what a character is called
before it can be found; and this arrangement has been followed in
vocabularies designed principally for the use of the common people.
One well-known vocabulary used at Canton, called the _Făn Yun_, or
‘Divider of Sounds,’ is arranged on this plan, the words being placed
under thirty-three orders, according to their terminations. Each order
is subdivided into three or four classes according to the tones, and
all the characters having the same tone and termination are placed
together, as _kam_, _lam_, _tam_, _nam_, etc. As might be supposed,
it requires considerable time to find a character whose tone is not
exactly known; and even with the tone once mastered, the uncertainty is
equally troublesome if the termination is not familiar: for singular as
it may seem to those who are acquainted only with phonetic languages,
a Chinese can, if anything, more readily distinguish between two words
_♯ming_ and _♭ming_, whose tones are unlike, than he can between
_♯ming_ and _♯meng_, _♯ming_ or _♯bing_, where the initial or final
differs a little, and the tones are the same.
An improvement on this plan of arrangement was made by adopting a
mode of expressing the sounds of Chinese characters introduced by
the Buddhists, in the _Yuh Pien_, published A.D. 543, and ever since
used in all dictionaries. This takes the initial of the sound of one
character and the final of another, and combines them to indicate
the sound of the given character; as from _li_-en and y-_ing_ to
form _ling_. There are thirty-six characters chosen for the initial
consonants, and thirty-eight for the final sounds, but the student
is perplexed by the different characters chosen in different works
to represent them.[291] The inhabitants of Amoy use a small lexicon
called the _Shih-wu Yin_, or ‘Fifteen Sounds,’ in which the characters
are classified on this principle, by first arranging them all under
fifty finals, and then placing all those having the same termination
in a regular series under fifteen initials. Supposing a new character,
_chien_, is seen, whose sound is given, or the word is heard in
conversation and its meanings are wanted, the person turns to the part
of the book containing the final _ien_, which is designated perhaps by
the character _kien_, and looks along the initials until he comes to
_ch_, which is indicated by the character _chang_. In this column, all
the words in the book read or spoken _chien_, of whatever tone they may
be, are placed together according to their tones; and a little practice
readily enables a person speaking the dialect to use this manual. It
is, however, of little or no avail to persons speaking other dialects,
or to those whose vernacular differs much from that of the compiler,
whose own ear was his only guide. Complete dictionaries have been
published on the phonetic plan, the largest of which, the _Wu Ché Yun
Fu_, is arranged with so much minuteness of intonation as to puzzle
even the best educated natives, and consequently abridge its usefulness
as an expounder of words.
~CLASSIFICATION ACCORDING TO COMPOSITION.~
The unfitness of either of these modes of arrangement to find an
unknown character, led to another classification according to their
composition, by selecting the most prominent parts of each character as
its key, or radical, and grouping those together in which the same key
occurred. This plan was adopted subsequently to that of arranging the
characters according to the sounds, about A.D. 543, when their number
was put at five hundred and forty-two; they were afterward reduced
to three hundred and sixty, and toward the close of the Ming dynasty
finally fixed at two hundred and fourteen in the _Tsz’ Lui_. It is
now in general use from the adoption of the abridged dictionary, the
_Kanghí Tsz’ Tien_; though this number could have been advantageously
reduced, as has been shown by Gonçalves, its universal adoption,
more than anything else, renders it the best system. All characters
found under the same radical are placed consecutively, according to
the number of strokes necessary to write them, but no regularity is
observed in placing those having the same number of strokes. The
term _primitive_ has been technically applied to the remaining part
of the character, which, though perhaps no older than the radical,
is conveniently denoted by this word. The characters selected for
the radicals are all common ones, and among the most ancient in the
language; they are here grouped according to their meanings in order to
show something of the leading ideas followed in combination.
~RADICALS AND PRIMITIVES.~
_Corporal._--Body, corpse, head, hair, down, whiskers, face, eye,
ear, nose, mouth, teeth, tusk, tongue, hand, heart, foot, hide,
leather, skin, wings, feathers, blood, flesh, talons, horn, bones.
_Biological._--Man, woman, child; horse, sheep, tiger, dog, ox, hog,
hog’s head, deer; tortoise, dragon, reptile, mouse, toad; bird,
gallinaceous fowls; fish; insect.
_Botanical._--Herb, grain, rice, wheat, millet, hemp, leeks, melon,
pulse, bamboo, sacrificial herb; wood, branch, sprout, petal.
_Mineral._--Metal, stone, gems, salt, earth.
_Meteorological._--Rain, wind, fire, water, icicle, vapor, sound;
sun, moon, evening; time.
_Utensils._--A chest, a measure, a mortar, spoon, knife, bench,
couch, crockery, clothes, tiles, dishes, napkin, net, plough, vase,
tripod, boat, carriage, pencil; bow, halberd, arrow, dart, ax,
musical reed, drum, seal.
_Descriptives._--Black, white, yellow, azure, carnation, sombre;
color; high, long, sweet, square, large, small, strong, lame,
slender, old, fragrant, acrid, perverse, base, opposed.
_Actions._--To enter, to follow, to walk slowly, to arrive at, to
stride, to walk, to run, to reach to, to touch, to stop, to fly, to
overspread, to envelop, to encircle, to establish, to overshadow, to
adjust, to distinguish, to divine, to see, to eat, to speak, to kill,
to fight, to oppose, to stop, to embroider, to owe, to compare, to
imitate, to bring forth, to use, to promulge.
_Miscellaneous._--A desert, cave, field, den, mound, hill, valley,
rivulet, cliff, retreat. A city; roof, gate, door, portico. One, two,
eight, ten. Demon; an inch, mile; without, not, false; a scholar,
statesman, letters; art, wealth; motion; self, myself, father; a
point; again; wine; silk; joined hands; a long journey; print of a
bear’s foot; a surname; classifier of cloth.
The number of characters found under each of these radicals in
Kanghí’s Dictionary varies from five up to one thousand three hundred
and fifty-four. The radical is not uniformly placed, but its usual
position is on the left of the primitive. Some occur on the top,
others on the bottom; some inclose the primitive, and many have no
fixed place, making it evident that no uniform plan was adopted in
the original construction. They must be thoroughly learned before
the dictionary can be readily used, and some practice had before a
character can be quickly found.[292] The groups occurring under a
majority of the radicals are more or less natural in their general
meaning, a feature of the language which has already been noticed
(page 375). Some of the radicals are interchanged, and characters
having the same meaning sometimes occur under two or three different
ones--variations which seem to have arisen from the little importance
of a choice out of two or three similar radicals. Thus the same word
_tsien_, ‘a small cup,’ is written under the three radicals _gem_,
_porcelain_, and _horn_, originally, no doubt, referring to the
material for making it. This interchange of radicals adds greatly to
the number of duplicate forms, which are still further increased by
a similar interchange of primitives having the same sound. These two
changes very seldom occur in the same character, but there are numerous
instances of synonymous forms under almost every radical, arising from
an interchange of primitives, and also under analogous radicals caused
by their reciprocal use. Thus, from both these causes, there are,
under the radical _ma_, ‘a horse,’ one hundred and eighteen duplicate
forms, leaving two hundred and ninety-three different words; of the
two hundred and four characters under _niu_, ‘an ox,’ thirty-nine are
synonymous forms; and so under other radicals. These characters do
not differ in meaning more than _favor_ and _favour_, or _lady_ and
_ladye_; they are mere variations in the form of writing, and though
apparently adding greatly to the number of characters, do not seriously
increase the difficulty of learning the language.
Variants of other descriptions frequently occur in books, which
needlessly add to the labor of learning the language. Ancient forms
are sometimes adopted by pedantic writers to show their learning,
while ignorant and careless writers use abridged or vulgar forms,
because they either do not know the correct form, or are heedless in
using it. When such is the case, and the character cannot be found
in the dictionary, the reader is entirely at fault, especially if he
be a foreigner, though in China itself he would not experience much
difficulty where the natives were at hand to refer to. Vulgar forms
are very common in cheap books and letters, which are as unsanctioned
by the dictionaries and good usage, as cockney phrases or miner’s slang
are in pure English. They arise, either from a desire on the part of
the writer to save time by making a contracted form of few strokes
instead of the correct character of many strokes; or he uses common
words to express an energetic vulgar phrase, for which there are no
authorized characters, but which will be easily understood phonetically
by his readers. These characters would perchance not be understood at
all outside of the range of the author’s dialect, because the phrase
itself was new; their individual meaning, indeed, has nothing to do
with the interpretation of the sentence, for in this case they are
merely signs of sound, like words in other languages, and lose their
lexigraphic character. For instance, the words _kia-fí_ for coffee,
_kap-tan_ for captain, _mí-sz’_ for Mr., etc., however they were
written, would be intelligible to a native of Canton if they expressed
those sounds, because he was familiar with the words themselves; but a
native of Shensí would not understand them, because, not knowing the
things intended, he would naturally refer to the characters themselves
for the meaning of the phrase, and thus be wholly misled. In such
cases, the characters become mere syllables of a phonetic word. Foreign
names are often transliterated by writers on geography or history, and
their recognition is no easy task to their readers.[293]
[Illustration: 6 5 4 3 2 1
Six styles of Chinese script]
~SIX STYLES OF CHINESE CHARACTERS.~
In addition to the variations in the forms of characters, there are six
different styles of writing them, which correspond to black-letter,
script, italic, roman, etc., in English. The first is called _Chuen
shu_ (from the name of the person who invented it), which foreigners
have styled the _seal character_, from its use in seals and ornamental
inscriptions. It is next to the picture hieroglyphics, the most ancient
fashion of writing, and has undergone many changes in the course of
ages. It is studied by those who cut seals or inscriptions, but no
books are ever printed in it.
The second is the _lí shu_, or style of official attendants, which
was introduced about the Christian era, as an elegant style to be
employed in engrossing documents. It is now seen in prefaces and formal
inscriptions, and requires no special study to read it, as it differs
but slightly from the following.
The third is the _kiai shu_, or pattern style, and has been gradually
formed by the improvements in good writing. It is the usual form of
Chinese characters, and no man can claim a literary name among his
countrymen if he cannot write neatly and correctly in this style.
The fourth is called _hing shu_, or running hand, and is the common
hand of a neat writer. It is frequently used in prefaces and
inscriptions, scrolls and tablets, and there are books prepared in
parallel columns having this and the pattern style arranged for
school-boys to learn to write both at the same time. The running hand
cannot be read without a special study; and although this labor is not
very serious when the language of books is familiar, still to become
well acquainted with both of them withdraws many days and months of the
pupil from progress in acquiring knowledge to learning two modes of
writing the same word.
The fifth style is called _tsao tsz’_, or plant character, and is
a freer description of running hand than the preceding, being full
of abbreviations, and the pencil runs from character to character,
without taking it from the paper, almost at the writer’s fancy. It is
more difficult to read than the preceding, but as the abbreviations
are somewhat optional, the _tsao tsz’_ varies considerably, and more
or less resembles the running hand according to the will of the
writer. The fancy of the Chinese for a “flowing pencil,” and a mode
of writing where the elegance and freedom of the caligraphy can be
admired as much or more than the style or sentiment of the writing, as
well as the desire to contract their multangular characters as much
as possible, has contributed to introduce and perpetuate these two
styles of writing. How much all these varieties of form superadd to the
difficulty of learning the mere apparatus of knowledge need hardly be
stated.
The sixth style is called _Sung shu_, and was introduced under the Sung
dynasty in the tenth century, soon after printing on wooden blocks
was invented. It differs from the third style, merely in a certain
squareness and angularity of stroke, which transcribers for the press
only are obliged to learn. Of these six forms of writing, the pattern
style and running hand are the only two which the people learn to any
great extent, although many acquire the knowledge of some words in the
seal character, and the running hand of every person, especially those
engaged in business, approaches more or less to the plant character.
But foreigners will seldom find time or inclination to learn to write
more than one form, to be able to read and communicate on all occasions.
Besides these styles, there are fanciful ones, called ‘tadpole
characters,’ in imitation of various objects;[294] the Emperor Kienlung
brought together thirty-two of them in an edition of his poem, the
_Elegy upon the City of Mukden_.[295]
~ELEMENTARY STROKES OF THE CHARACTERS.~
All the strokes in the characters are reduced to eight elementary ones,
which are contained in the single character 永 _yung_, ‘eternal.’
㇔ ㇐ ㇑ ㇚ ㇀ ㇁
A dot, a line, a perpendicular, a hook, a spike, a sweep,
㇒ ㇏
a stroke, a dash-line.
Each of these is subdivided into many forms in copy-books, having
particular names, with directions how to write them, and numerous
examples introduced under each stroke.[296]
The Chinese regard their characters as highly elegant, and take
unwearied pains to learn to write them in a beautiful, uniform,
well-proportioned manner. Students are provided with a painted board
upon which to practise with a brush dipped in blackened water. The
articles used in writing, collectively called _wan fang sz’ pao_, or
‘four precious things of the library,’ are the pencil, ink, paper, and
ink-stone. The best pencils are made of the bristly hair of the sable
and fox, and cheaper ones from the deer, cat, wolf and rabbit; camel’s
hair is not used. A combination of softness and elasticity is required,
and those who are skilled in their use discern a difference and an
excellence altogether imperceptible to a novice. The hairs are laid in
a regular manner, and when tied up are brought to a delicate tip; the
handle is made of the twigs of a bamboo cultivated for the purpose.
The ink, usually known as India ink, is made from the soot of burning
oil, pine, fir, and other substances, mixed with glue or isinglass,
and scented. It is formed into oblong cakes or cylinders, inscribed
with the maker’s name, the best kinds being put up in a very tasteful
manner. A singular error formerly obtained credence regarding this ink,
that it was inspissated from the fluid found in the cuttle-fish. When
used, the ink is rubbed with water upon argillite, marble, or other
stones, some of which are cut and ground in a beautiful manner. Chinese
paper is made from bamboo, by triturating the woody fibre to a pulp in
mortars after the pieces have been soaked in ooze, and then taking it
up in moulds; the pulp is sometimes mixed with a little cotton fibre.
Inferior sorts are made entirely from cotton refuse; and in the North,
where the bamboo does not grow, the bark of the _Broussonetia_, or
paper mulberry, furnishes material for a tough paper used for windows,
wrappings, and account books, etc. Bamboo paper has no sizing in it,
and is a frail material for preserving valuable writings, as it is
easily destroyed by insects, mildew, or handling.[297]
~PAPER AND PRINTING.~
In the days of Confucius, pieces of bamboo pared thin, palm leaves,
and reeds, were all used for writing upon with a sharp stick or stile.
About the third century before Christ, silk and cloth were employed,
and hair pencils made for writing. Paper was invented about the first
century, and cotton-paper may have been brought from India, where it
was in use more than a hundred years before. India ink was manufactured
by the seventh century; and the present mode of printing upon blocks
was adopted from the discovery of Fungtau in the tenth century, of
taking impressions from engraved stones. In the style of their notes
and letters, the Chinese show both neatness and elegance; narrow slips
of tinted paper are employed, on which various emblematic designs
are stamped in water lines, and enclosed in fanciful envelopes. It
is common to affix a cipher instead of the name, or to close with a
periphrasis or sentence well understood by the parties, and thereby
avoid any signature; this, which originated, no doubt, in a fear of
interception and unpleasant consequences, has gradually become a common
mode of subscribing friendly epistles.
~THE MANUFACTURE OF CHINESE BOOKS.~
The mode of printing is so well fitted for the language that few
improvements have been made in its manipulations, while the cheapness
of books brings them within reach of the poorest. Cutting the blocks,
and writing the characters, form two distinct branches of the business;
printing the sheets, binding the volumes, and publishing the books,
also furnish employment to other craftsmen. The first step is to
write the characters upon thin paper, properly ruled with lines, two
pages being cut upon one block, and a heavy double line surrounding
them. The title of the work, chapter, and paging are all cut in a
central column, and when the leaf is printed it is folded through this
column so as to bring the characters on the edge and partly on both
pages. Marginal notes are placed on the top of the page; comments,
when greatly extended, occupy the upper part, separated from the text
by a heavy line, or when mere scholia, are interlined in the same
column in characters of half the size. Sometimes two works are printed
together, one running through the volume on the upper half of the
leaves, and separated from that occupying the lower half by a heavy
line. Illustrations usually occupy separate pages at the commencement
of the book, but there are a few works with woodcuts of a wretched
description, inserted in the body of the page. In books printed by
government, each page is sometimes surrounded with dragons, or the
title page is adorned in red by this emblem of imperial authority.
When the leaf has been written out as it is to be printed, it is turned
over and pasted upon the block, face downward. The wood usually used by
blockcutters is pear or plum; the boards are half or three-fourths of
an inch thick, and planed for cutting on both sides. The paper, when
dried upon the board, is carefully rubbed off with the wetted finger,
leaving every character and stroke plainly delineated. The cutter then,
with his chisels, cuts away all the blank spots in and around the
characters, to the depth of a line or more, after which the block is
ready for the printer, whose machinery is very simple. Seated before a
bench, he lays the block on a bed of paper so that it will not move nor
chafe. The pile of paper lies on one side, the pot of ink before him,
and the pressing brush on the other. Taking the ink brush, he slightly
rubs it across the block twice in such a way as to lay the ink equally
over the surface; he then places a sheet of paper upon it, and over
that another, which serves as a tympanum. The impression is taken with
the fibrous bark of the gomuti palm; one or two sweeps across the block
complete the impression, for only one side of the paper is printed.
Another and cheaper method in common use for publishing slips of news,
court circulars, etc., consists in cutting the characters in blocks of
hard wax, from which as many as two hundred impressions can often be
taken before they become entirely illegible. The ink is manufactured
from lampblack mixed with vegetable oil; the printers grind it for
themselves.
The sheets are taken by the binder, who folds them through the middle
by the line around the pages, so that the columns shall register
with each other, he then collates them into volumes, placing the
leaves evenly by their folded edge, when the whole are arranged,
and the covers pasted on each side. Two pieces of paper stitch it
through the back, the book is trimmed, and sent to the bookseller. If
required, it is stitched firmly with thread, but this part, as well
as writing the title on the bottom edges of the volume, and making the
pasteboard wrapper, are usually deferred till the taste of a purchaser
is ascertained. Books made of such materials are not as durable as
European volumes, and those who can afford the expense frequently have
valuable works inclosed in wooden boxes. They are printed of all sizes
between small _sleeve_ editions (as the Chinese call 24 and 32 mos) up
to quartos, twelve or fourteen inches square, larger than which it is
difficult to get blocks.
The price varies from one cent--for a brochure of twenty-five or thirty
pages--to a dollar and a half a volume. It is seldom higher save for
illustrated works. A volume rarely contains more than a hundred leaves,
and in fine books their thickness is increased by inserting an extra
sheet inside of each leaf. At Canton or Fuhchau, the _History of the
Three States_, bound in twenty-one volumes 12mo, printed on white
paper, is usually sold for seventy-five cents or a dollar per set.
Kanghí’s Dictionary, in twenty-one volumes 8vo, on yellow paper, sells
for four dollars; and all the nine classics can be purchased for less
than two. Books are hawked about the streets, circulating libraries are
carried from house to house upon movable stands, and booksellers’ shops
are frequent in large towns. No censorship, other than a prohibition
to write about the present dynasty, is exercised upon the press; nor
are authors protected by a copyright law. Men of wealth sometimes show
their literary taste by defraying the expense of getting the blocks of
extensive works cut, and publishing them. Pwan Sz’-ching, a wealthy
merchant at Canton, published, in 1846, an edition of the _Pei Wăn Yun
Fu_, in one hundred and thirty thick octavo volumes, the blocks for
which must have cost him more than ten thousand dollars. The number of
good impressions which can be obtained from a set of blocks is about
sixteen thousand, and by retouching the characters, ten thousand more
can be struck off.
The disadvantages of this mode of printing are that other languages
cannot easily be introduced into the page with the Chinese characters;
the blocks occupy much room, are easily spoiled or lost; and are
incapable of correction without much expense. It possesses some
compensatory advantages peculiar to the Chinese and its cognate
languages, Manchu, Corean, Japanese, etc., all of which are written
with a brush and have few or no circular strokes. Its convenience and
cheapness, coupled with the low rate of wages, will no doubt make it
the common mode of printing Chinese among the people for a long time.
The honor of being the first inventor of movable types undoubtedly
belongs to a Chinese blacksmith named Pí Shing, who lived about A.D.
1000, and printed books with them nearly five hundred years before
Gutenberg cut his matrices at Mainz. They were made of plastic clay,
hardened by fire after the characters had been cut on the soft surface
of a plate of clay in which they were moulded. The porcelain types were
then set up in a frame of iron partitioned off by strips, and inserted
in a cement of wax, resin, and lime to fasten them down. The printing
was done by rubbing, and when completed the types were loosened by
melting the cement, and made clean for another impression.
This invention seems never to have been developed to any practical
application in superseding block-printing. The Emperor Kanghí ordered
about two hundred and fifty thousand copper types to be engraved for
printing publications of the government, and these works are now highly
prized for their beauty. The cupidity of his successors led to melting
these types into cash, but his grandson Kienlung directed the casting
of a large font of lead types for government use.
~MOVABLE CHINESE TYPES MADE BY FOREIGNERS.~
The attention of foreigners was early called to the preparation
of Chinese movable types, especially for the rapid manufacture of
religious books, in connection with missionary work. The first fonts
were made by P. P. Thoms, for the E. I. Company’s office at Macao in
1815, for the purpose of printing Morrison’s Dictionary. The characters
were cut with chisels on blocks of type metal or tin, and though it
was slow work to cut a full font, they gradually grew in numbers
and variety till they served to print over twenty dictionaries and
other works, designed to aid in learning Chinese, before they were
destroyed by fire in 1856. A small font had been cast at Serampore in
1815, and in 1838, the Royal Printing Office at Paris had obtained a
set of blocks engraved in China, from which thick castings were made
and the separate types obtained by sawing the plates. M. Le Grand,
a type-founder in Paris, about the year 1836, prepared an extensive
font of type with comparatively few matrices, by casting the radical
and primitive on separate bodies; and the plan has been found, within
certain limits, to save so much expense and room that it has been
adopted in other fonts.
These experiments in Europe showed the feasibility of making and
using Chinese type to any extent, but their results as to elegance
and accuracy of form were not satisfactory, and proved that native
workmen alone could meet the native taste. Rev. Samuel Dyer of the
London Mission at Singapore began in 1838, under serious disadvantages,
for he was not a practical printer, to cut the matrices for two
complete fonts. He continued at his self-appointed task until his
death in 1844, having completed only one thousand eight hundred and
forty-five punches. His work was continued by R. Cole, of the American
Presbyterian Missions, a skilful mechanic in his line, and in 1851 he
was able to furnish fonts of two sizes with four thousand seven hundred
characters each. Their form and style met every requirement of the most
fastidious taste, and they are now in constant use.
While Mr. Dyer’s fonts were suspended by his death, an attempt was
made by a benevolent printer, Herr Beyerhaus of Berlin, to make one
of an intermediate size on the Le Grand principle of divisible types;
his proposal was taken up by the Presbyterian Board of Missions in
New York, and after many delays a beautiful font was completed and
in use about 1859. At this time, Mr. W. Gamble of that Mission in
Shanghai, carried out his plan of making matrices by the electrotype
process, and completed a large font of small pica type in about as
many months as Dyer and Beyerhaus had taken years. By means of these
various fonts books are now printed in many parts of China, in almost
any style, and type foundries cast in whatever quantities are needed.
The government has opened an extensive printing office in Peking, and
its example will encourage native booksellers to unite typography with
xylographic printing. More than this as conducing to the diffusion
of knowledge among the people is the stimulus these cheap fonts of
type have given to the circulation of newspapers in all the ports; but
for their convenient and economical use Chinese newspapers could not
have been printed at all. It will be quite within the reach of native
workmen, who are skilled in electrotyping, stereotyping, and casting
type, to make types of all sizes and styles for their own books, as the
growing intelligence of the people creates a demand for illustrated and
scientific publications, as well as cheap ones.[298]
~PHONETIC CHARACTER OF THE LANGUAGE.~
Nothing has conduced more to a misapprehension of the nature of the
Chinese language than the way in which its phonetic character has
been spoken of by different authors. Some, describing the primitive
symbols, and the modifications they have undergone, have conveyed
the impression that the whole language consisted of hieroglyphic or
ideographic signs, which depicted ideas, and conveyed their meaning
entirely to the eye, irrespective of the sound. For instance, Rémusat
says, “The character is not the delineation of the sound, nor the
sound the expression of the character;” forgetting to ask himself
how or when a character in any language ever delineated a sound. Yet
every Chinese character is sounded as much as the words in alphabetic
languages, and some have more than one to express their different
meanings; so that, although the character could not delineate the sound
of the thing it denoted, the sound is the expression of the character.
Others, as Mr. Lay,[299] have dissected the characters, and endeavored
to trace back some analogy in the meanings of all those in which the
same primitive is found, and by a sort of analysis, to find out how
much of the signification of the radical was infused into the primitive
to form the present meaning. His plan, in general terms, is to take
all the characters containing a certain primitive, and find out how
much of the meaning of that primitive is contained in each one; then
he reconstructs the series by defining the primitive, incidentally
showing the intention of the framers of the characters in choosing
that particular one, and apportioning so much of its aggregate meaning
to each character as is needed, and adding the meaning of the radical
to form its whole signification. If we understand his plan, he wishes
to construct a formula for each group containing the same primitive,
in which the signification of the primitive is a certain function
in that of all the characters containing it; to add up the total of
their meanings, and divide the amount among the characters, allotting
a quotient to each one. Languages are not so formed, however, and the
Chinese is no exception. Some of Mr. Lay’s statements are correct, but
his theory is fanciful. It is impossible to decide what proportion
was made by combining a radical and a primitive with any reference to
their meanings, according to Mr. Lay’s theory, and how many of them
were simply phonetic combinations; probably nine-tenths of the compound
characters have been constructed on the latter principle.
The fifth class of syllabic symbols were formed by combining the
symbolic and syllabic systems, so as to represent sound chiefly, but
bearing in the construction of each one some reference to its general
signification. The original hieroglyphics contained no sound, _i.e._,
were not formed of phonetic constituents; the object depicted had a
name, but there was no clue to it. It was impossible to do both--depict
the object, and give its name in the same character. At first, the
number of people using these ideographic symbols being probably small,
every one called them by the same name, as soon as he knew what they
represented, and began to read them. But when the ideas attempted to be
written far exceeded in number the symbols, or, what is more likely,
the invention of the limners, recourse was had to the combination of
the symbols already understood to express the new idea. This was done
in several modes, as noticed above, but the syllabic system needs
further explanation, from the extent to which it has been carried. The
character 蝻 _nan_, to denote the young of the locust, has been adduced.
The same principle would be applied in _reading_ every new character,
of which the phonetic primitive merely was recognized, although its
meaning might not be known. Probably all the characters in the fifth
class were sounded in strict accordance with their phonetic primitives
when constructed, but usage has changed some of their sounds, and many
characters belonging to other classes, apparently containing the same
primitive, are sounded quite differently; this tends to mislead those
who infer the sound from the primitive. This mode of constructing and
naming the characters also explains the reason why there are so few
sounds compared with the number of characters; the phonetic primitive
perpetuated its name in all its progeny.
~MODES OF INCORPORATING NEW WORDS.~
More than seven-eighths of the characters have been formed from less
than two thousand symbols, and it is difficult to imagine how it could
have been used so long and widely without some such method to relieve
the memory of the burden of retaining thousands of arbitrary marks.
But, until the names and meanings of the original symbols are learned,
neither the sound nor sense of the compound characters will be more
apparent to a Chinese than they are to any one else; until those are
known, their combinations cannot be understood, nor even then the
meaning wholly deduced; each character must be learned by itself, just
as words in other languages. The sounds given the original symbols
doubtless began to vary early after coming into use. Intercommunication
between different parts of the country was not so frequent as to
prevent local dialects from arising; but however strong the tendency
of the spoken monosyllables to coalesce into polysyllables, the
intractable symbols kept them apart. It is surprising, too, what a
tendency the mind has to trust to the eye rather than to the ear, in
getting and retaining the sense of a book; it is shown in many ways,
and arises from habit more than any real difficulty in catching the
idea _vivâ voce_. If the characters could have coalesced, their names
would soon have run together, and been modified as they are in other
languages. The classics, dictionaries, and unlimited uses of a written
language, maintained the same meaning; but as their sounds must be
learned traditionally, endless variations and patois arose. Moreover,
as new circumstances and increasing knowledge give rise to new words in
all countries, so in China, new scenes and expressions arise requiring
to be incorporated into the written language. Originally they were
unwritten though well understood sounds; and when first written must
be explained, as is the case with foreign words like _tabu_, _ukase_,
_vizier_, etc., _ad infin._, when introduced into English. Different
writers might, however, employ different primitives to express the
sound, not aware that it had already been written, and hence would
arise synonyms; they might use dissimilar radicals, and this as well
would increase the modes of writing the sound. But the inconvenience of
thus multiplying characters would be soon perceived in the obscurity
of the sentence, for if the new character was not in the dictionary,
its sound and composition were not enough to explain the meaning. When
the language had attained a certain copiousness, the mode of education
and the style of literary works compelled scholars to employ such
characters only as were sanctioned by good use, or else run the risk of
not being understood.
The unwritten sounds, however, could not wait for this slow mode of
adoption, but the risk of being misunderstood by using characters
phonetically led to descriptive terms, conveying the idea and not the
sound. Where alphabetic languages adopt a technic for a new thing, the
Chinese make a new phrase. This is illustrated by the terms _Hung-mao
jin_, or ‘Red Bristled men,’ for Englishmen; _Hwa-kí_, or ‘Flowery
Flag,’ for Americans; _Sí-yang_, or ‘Western Ocean,’ for Portuguese,
etc., used at Canton, instead of the proper names of those countries.
Cause and effect act reciprocally upon each other in this instance; the
effect of using unsanctioned characters to express unwritten sounds,
is to render a composition obscure, while the restriction to a set
of characters compels their meaning to be sufficiently comprehensive
to include all occasions. Local, unwritten phrases, and unauthorized
characters, are so common, however, owing to the partial communication
between distant parts of so great a country and mass of people, that
it is evident, if this bond of union were removed by the substitution
of an alphabetical language, the Chinese would soon be split into many
small nations. However desirable, therefore, might be the introduction
of a written language less difficult of acquisition, and more flexible,
there are some reasons for wishing it to be delayed until more
intelligence is diffused and juster principles of government obtain.
When the people themselves feel the need of it, they will contrive
some better medium for the promotion of knowledge.
~“CLAM-SHELL WORDS” AND TONES.~
The monosyllabic sound of the primitive once imparted to the
ideophonous compound, explains the existence of so many characters
having the same sound. When these various characters were presented
to the eye of the scholar, no trouble was felt in recognizing their
sense and sound, but confusion was experienced in speaking. This has
been obviated in two ways. One is by repeating a word, or joining two
of similar meanings but of different sounds, to convey a single idea;
or else by adding a classifying word to express its nature. Both these
modes do in fact form a real dissyllable, and it would appear so in
an alphabetical language. The first sort of these _hien-hioh sz’_, or
‘clam-shell words,’ as they are called, are not unfrequent in books,
far more common in conversation and render the spoken more diffuse
than the written language--more so, perhaps, than is the case in other
tongues. Similar combinations of three, four, and more characters
occur, especially where a foreign article or term is translated,
but the genius of the language is against the use of polysyllables.
Such combinations in English as _household_, _house-warming_,
_housewife_, _house-room_, _houseleeks_, _hot-house_, _wood-house_,
_household-stuff_, etc., illustrate these dissyllables in Chinese;
but they are not so easily understood. Such terms as _understand_,
_courtship_, _withdraw_, _upright_, etc., present better analogies
to the Chinese compounds. In some the real meaning is totally unlike
either of the terms, as _tungkia_ (lit. ‘east house’), for master;
_tungsí_ (lit. ‘east west’), for thing; _kungchu_ (lit. ‘lord ruler’),
for princess, etc. The classifiers partake of the nature of adjectives,
and serve not only to sort different words, but the same word when
used in different senses. They correspond to such words in English
as _herd_, _fleet_, _troop_, etc. To say a fleet of cows, a troop of
ships, or a herd of soldiers, would be ridiculous only in English, but
a similar misapplication would confuse the sense in Chinese.
The other way of avoiding the confusion of homophonous monosyllables,
which, notwithstanding the “clam-shell words,” and the extensive use
of classifiers, are still liable to misapprehension, is by accurately
marking its right _shing_ or tone, but as nothing analogous to them
is found in European languages, it is rather difficult to describe
them. At Canton there are eight arranged in an upper and lower series
of four each; at Peking there are only four, at Nanking five, and
at Swatow seven. The Chinese printers sometimes mark the _shing_ on
certain ambiguous characters, by a semicircle put on one corner; but
this is rarely done, as every one who can read is supposed to know
how to speak, and consequently to be familiar with the right tone.
These four tones are called _ping_, _shang_, _kü_, and _jih_, meaning,
respectively, the _even_, _ascending_, _departing_, and _entering_
tone. They are applied to every word, and have nothing to do either
with accent or emphasis; in asking or answering, entreating or
refusing, railing or flattering, soothing or recriminating, they remain
ever the same. The unlettered natives, even children and females,
who know almost nothing of the distinctions into four, five, seven,
or eight _shing_, observe them closely in their speech, and detect a
mispronunciation as soon as the learned man. A single illustration
of them will suffice. The _even_ tone is the natural expression of
the voice, and native writers consider it the most important. In the
sentence,
“When I asked him, ‘Will you let me see it?’ he said, ‘No, I’ll do no
such thing,’”
the different cadence of the question and reply illustrate the upper
and lower even tone. The _ascending_ tone is heard in exclamatory words
as _ah! indeed!_ It is a little like the crescendo in music, while the
_departing_ tone corresponds in the same degree to the diminuendo.
The drawling tone of repressed discontent, grumbling and eking out a
reply, is not unlike the departing tone. The entering tone is nearly
eliminated in the northern provinces, but gives a marked feature to
speech in the southern; it is an abrupt ending, in the same modulation
that the even tone is, but as if broken off; a man about to say _lock_,
and taken with a hiccup in the middle so that he leaves off the last
two letters, or the final consonant, pronounces the _juh shing_. A few
characters have two tones, which give them different meanings; the
_ping shing_ often denotes the substantive, and the _kü shing_, the
verb, but there is no regularity in this respect.
The tones are observed by natives of all ranks, speaking all patois
and dialects, and on all occasions. They present a serious difficulty
to the adult foreigner of preaching or speaking acceptably to the
natives, for although by a proper use of classifiers, observance of
idioms, and multiplication of synonyms, he may be understood, his
speech will be rude and his words distasteful, if he does not learn the
tones accurately. In Amoy and Fuhchau, he will also run a risk of being
misunderstood. If the reader, in perusing the following sentence, will
accent the italicized syllables, he will have an imperfect illustration
of the confusion a wrong intonation produces: “The pre_sent_ of that
ob_ject_ occasioned such a trans_port_ as to _ab_stract my mind from
all around.” In Chinese, however, it is not _accent_ upon one of two
syllables which must be learned, but the integral tone of a single
sound, as much as in the musical octave.
It is unnecessary here to enter into any detailed description or
enumeration of the words in the Chinese language. One remarkable
feature is the frequency of the termination _ng_ preceded by all the
vowels, which imparts a peculiar singing character to Chinese speech,
as _Kwangtung_, _Yangtsz’ kiang_, etc. In a list of sounds in the court
dialect, about one-sixth of the syllables have this termination, but
a larger proportion of characters are found under those syllables,
than the mere list indicates. In Morrison’s Dictionary the number
of separate words in the court dialect is 411, but if the aspirated
syllables be distinguished, there are 533. In the author’s _Syllabic
Dictionary_ the number is 532; Wade reduces the Peking dialect to 397
syllables in one list, and increases it to 420 in another. In the
Cantonese there are 707; in the dialect of Swatow, 674; at Amoy, about
900; at Fuhchau, 928; and 660 at Shanghai. All these lists distinguish
between aspirated and unaspirated words, as _ting_ and _t’ing_, _pa_
and _p’a_, which to an English ear are nearly identical. The largest
part of the sounds are common to the dialects, but the distinctions
are such as to render it easy to detect each when spoken; the court
dialect is the most mellifluous of the whole and easiest to acquire.
All the consonants in English are found in one or another of the
dialects, besides many not occurring in that language, as _bw_, _chw_,
_gw_, _jw_, _lw_, _mw_, _nw_, etc. There are also several imperfect
vowel sounds not known in any European language, as _hm_ or _’m_,
_hn_ or _’n_, _^{ng}_ (a high nasal sound), _sz’_, _’rh_, _ch’_, etc.
The phrase _’m ’ng tăk_ in the Canton dialect, meaning _cannot be
pushed_, or _chain^n mai^n lang_, ‘a blind man,’ in the Amoy, cannot
be so accurately expressed by these or any other letters that one can
learn the sound from them. If it is difficult for us to express their
sounds by Roman letters, it is still stranger for the Chinese to write
English words. For instance, _baptize_ in the Canton dialect becomes
_pa-pí-tai-sz’_; _flannel_ becomes _fat-lan-yin_; _stairs_ becomes
_sz’-ta-sz’_; _impregnable_ becomes _ím-pí-luk-na-pu-lí_; etc. Such
words as _Washington_, _midshipman_, _tongue_, etc., can be written
nearer their true sound, but the indivisible Chinese monosyllables
offer a serious obstacle in the way of introducing foreign words and
knowledge into the language.
The preceding observations explain how the numerous local variations
from the general language found in all parts of China have arisen.
Difficult as the spoken language is for a foreigner to acquire, from
the brevity of the words and nicety of their tones, the variety of the
local pronunciations given to the same character adds not a little to
the labor, especially if he be situated where he is likely to come in
contact with persons from different places. Amid such a diversity of
pronunciation, and where one sound is really as correct as another,
it is not easy to define what should constitute a dialect, a patois,
or a corruption. A dialect in other languages is usually described
as a local variation in pronunciation, or the use of peculiar words
and expressions, not affecting the idiom or grammar of the tongue;
but in the Chinese, where the written character unites the mass of
people in one language, a dialect has been usually regarded by those
who have written on the subject, as extending to variations in the
idiom, and not restricted to differences in pronunciation and local
expressions. According to this definition, there are only four or five
dialects (which would in fact be as many languages if they were not
united by the written character), but an endless variety of patois or
local pronunciations. The Chinese have published books to illustrate
the court, Changchau or Amoy, the Canton and Fuhchau dialects. The
differences in the idioms and pronunciation are such as to render
persons speaking them mutually unintelligible, but do not affect the
style of writing, whose idioms are founded upon the usage of the best
writers, and remain unchanged.
~THE COURT, OR MANDARIN DIALECT.~
The court language, the _kwan hwa_, or mandarin dialect, is rather the
proper language of the country--_the Chinese language_--than a dialect.
It is studied and spoken by all educated men, and no one can make any
pretence to learning or accomplishments who cannot converse in it in
whatever part of the Empire he may be born. It is the common language
throughout the northeastern provinces, especially Honan, Shantung, and
Nganhwui, though presenting more or less variations even in them from
the standard of the court and capital. This speech is characterized by
its soft and mellifluous tones, the absence of all harsh, consonantal
endings, and the prevalence of liquids and labials. In parts of the
provinces where it is spoken, as the eastern portions of Chehkiang and
Kiangsu, gutturals are common, and the initials softened or changed.
This tongue is the most ancient speech now spoken, for stanzas of
poetry written twenty-five centuries ago, in the times previous to
Confucius, are now read with the same rhymes as when penned. The
expressions of the _kwan hwa_, although resembling the written language
more than the other dialects, are still unlike it, being more diffuse,
and containing many synonyms and particles not required to make the
sense clear when it is addressed to the eye. The difference is such in
this respect that two well-educated Chinese speaking in the terse style
of books would hardly understand each other, and be obliged to use more
words to convey their meaning when speaking than they would consider
elegant or necessary in an essay. This is, to be sure, more or less the
case in all languages, but from the small variety of sounds and their
monosyllabic brevity, it is unavoidable in Chinese, though it must not
be inferred that the language cannot be written so as to be understood
when read off; it can be written as diffusely as it is spoken, but such
a style is not considered very elegant. There are books written in the
colloquial, however, from which it is not difficult to learn the style
of conversation, and such books are among the best to put into the
hands of a foreigner when beginning the study.
~DIALECTS OF CANTON AND AMOY.~
The local patois of a place is called _tu tan_, or _hiang tan_, _i.e._,
local or village brogue, and there is an interpreter of it attached
to almost every officer’s court for the purpose of translating the
peculiar phrases of witnesses and others brought before him. The term
_dialect_ cannot, strictly, in its previous definition, be applied
to the _tu tan_, though it is usually so called; it is a patois or
brogue. The Canton dialect is called by its citizens _pak wa_, ‘the
plain speech,’ because it is more intelligible than the court dialect.
It is comparatively easy of acquisition, and differs less from the
_kwan hwa_, in its pronunciation and idioms, than that of Amoy and its
vicinity; but the diversity is still enough to render it unintelligible
to people from the north. A very few books have been written in it, but
none which can afford assistance in learning it. A native scholar would
consider his character for literary attainments almost degraded if he
should write books in the provincial dialects, and forsake the style of
the immortal classics. The principal feature in the pronunciation of
the Canton dialect which distinguishes it from the general language, is
the change of the abrupt vowel terminations, as _loh_, _kiah_, _pih_,
into the well-defined consonants _k_, _p_, and _t_, as _lok_, _kap_,
_pít_, a change that considerably facilitates the discrimination of the
syllables. The idioms of the two cannot well be illustrated without the
help of the written character, but the differences between the sounds
of two or three sentences may be exhibited: The phrase, _I do not
understand what he says_, is in the
Court dialect: _Wo min puh tung teh ta kiang shim mo._
Canton dialect: _Ngo ’m hiu kü kong măt yé._
_The rice contains sand in it._
Court dialect: _Na ko mí yu sha tsz’._
Canton dialect: _Ko tik mai yau sha tsoi noi._
None of the provincial patois differ so much from the _kwan hwa_,
and afford so many peculiarities, as those spoken in the province of
Fuhkien and eastern portions of Kwangtung. All of them are nasal, and,
compared with those spoken elsewhere, harsh and rough. They have a
large number of unwritten sounds, and so supply the lack; the same
character often has one sound when read and another when spoken; all of
them are in common use. This curious feature obliges the foreigner to
learn two parallel languages when studying this dialect, so intimate
and yet so distinct are the two. The difference between them will be
more apparent by quoting a sentence: “He first performed that which was
difficult, and afterward imitated what was easier.” The corresponding
words of the colloquial are placed underneath the reading sounds.
_Sien k’í su chí sé lan, jí ho k’í
_Tai seng chó í é su é sé oh, jí tui au k’w^na í é
hau chí sé tek._
hau giem é sé tit tióh._
The changes from one into the other are exceedingly various both in
sound and idiom. Thus, _bien chien_, ‘before one’s face,’ becomes
_bin chan_ when spoken; while in the phrase _cheng jit_, ‘a former
day,’ the same word _chien_ becomes _cheng_ and not _chan_; _bòé
chu_, ‘pupil of the eye,’ becomes _ang a_; _sit hwan_, ‘to eat rice,’
becomes _chiah pui^n_. Their dialect, not less than their trafficking
spirit, point out the Amoy people wherever they are met, and as they
are usually found along the whole coast and in the Archipelago, and are
not understood except by their provincial compatriots, they everywhere
clan together and form separate communities. Dr. Medhurst published
a dictionary of the Changchau dialect, in which the sounds of the
characters are given as they are read. Dr. C. Douglas has gathered a
great vocabulary of words and phrases used in the Amoy colloquial, in
which he has attempted to reduce everything to the Romanized system of
writing, and omitted all the characters.
The dialects of Fuhchau, Swatow, and Canton have been similarly
investigated by Protestant missionaries. Messrs. Maclay and Baldwin
have taken the former in hand, and their work leaves very little to be
desired for the elucidation of that speech. Goddard’s vocabulary of the
Swatow has no examples; and Williams’ _Tonic Dictionary_ of the Canton
dialect gave no characters with the examples. This deficiency was made
up in Lobscheid’s rearrangement of it under the radicals.
The extent to which the dialects are used has not been ascertained, nor
the degree of modification each undergoes in those parts where it is
spoken; for villagers within a few miles, although able to understand
each other perfectly, still give different sounds to a few characters,
and have a few local phrases, enough to distinguish their several
inhabitants, while towns one or two hundred miles apart are still more
unlike. For instance, the citizen of Canton always says _shui_ for
water, and _tsz’_ for child, but the native of Macao says _sui_ and
_chí_ for these two words; and if his life depended upon his uttering
them as they are spoken in Canton, they would prove a shibboleth which
he could not possibly enunciate. Strong peculiarities of speech also
exist in the villages between Canton and Macao which are found in
neither of those places. Yet whatever sound they give to a character it
has the same tone, and a Chinese would be much less surprised to hear
water called _♯chwui_, than he would to hear it called _♭shui_ in the
lower even tone, instead of its proper ascending tone. The tones really
approach vowels in their nature more than mere musical inflections;
and it is by their nice discrimination, that the people are able to
understand each other with less difficulty than we might suppose amidst
such a jargon of vocables.
~PRONUNCIATION AND GRAMMAR.~
This accurate discrimination in the vowel sounds, and comparative
indifference to consonants, which characterize the Chinese spoken
languages, has arisen, no doubt, from the monosyllabic nature, and
the constant though slight variations the names of characters undergo
from the traditionary mode in which they must be learned. There being
no integral sound in any character, each and all of them are, of
course, equally correct, _per se_; but the various general and local
dictionaries have each tended somewhat to fix the pronunciation, just
as books and education have fixed the spelling of English words. Nor
do the Chinese more than other people learn to pronounce their mother
tongue from dictionaries, and the variations are consequently but
partially restrained by them. It may truly be said, that no two Chinese
speak all words alike, while yet, through means of the universally
understood character, the greatest mass of human beings ever collected
under one government are enabled to express themselves without
difficulty, and carry on all the business and concerns of life.
The grammar of the Chinese language is unique, but those writers
who say it has no grammar at all must have overlooked the prime
signification of the word. There are in all languages words which
denote things, and others which signify qualities; words which express
actions done by one or many, already done, doing or to be done; actions
absolute, conditional, or ordered. The circumstances of the doer and
the subject of the action, make prepositions necessary, as well as
other connecting words. Thus the principles of grammar exist in all
intelligible speech, though each may require different rules. These
rules the Chinese language possesses, and their right application, the
proper collocation of words, and use of particles, which supply the
place of inflection, constitute a difficult part in its acquisition.
It has no etymology, properly speaking, for neither the characters
nor their names undergo any change; whether used as verbs or nouns,
adjectives or particles, they remain the same. The same word may be a
noun, a verb, an adverb, or any part of speech, nor can its character
be certainly known till it is placed in a sentence, when its meaning
becomes definite. Its grammar, therefore, is confined chiefly to its
syntax and prosody. This feature of the Chinese language is paralleled
in English by such words as _light_, used as a noun, adjective, and
verb; _like_, used as a verb, adjective, and adverb; _sheep_ and
_deer_, used both in the singular and plural; _read_, used in the
past, present, and future tenses; and in all cases without undergoing
any change. But what is occasional and the exception in that tongue,
becomes the rule in Chinese; nor is there any more confusion in the
last than in the first.
A good summary of the principles of Chinese grammar is given by
Rémusat, who says that generally,
“In every Chinese sentence, in which nothing is understood, the
elements of which it is composed are arranged in the following order:
the subject, the verb, the complement direct, and the complement
indirect.
“Modifying expressions precede those to which they belong: thus, the
adjective is placed before the substantive, subject, or complement;
the substantive governed before the verb that governs it; the adverb
before the verb, the proposition incidental, circumstantial, or
hypothetical, before the principal proposition, to which it attaches
itself by a conjunction expressed or understood.
“The relative position of words and phrases thus determined, supplies
the place often of every other mark intended to denote their mutual
dependence, their character whether adjective or adverbial, positive,
conditional, or circumstantial.
“If the subject be understood, it is because it is a personal
pronoun, or that it is expressed above, and that the same substantive
that is omitted is found in the preceding sentence, and in the same
quality of subject, and not in any other.
“If the verb be wanting, it is because it is the substantive verb, or
some other easily supplied, or one which has already found place in
the preceding sentences, with a subject or complement not the same.
“If several substantives follow each other, either they are in
construction with each other, or they form an enumeration, or they
are synonyms which explain and determine each other.
“If several verbs succeed each other, which are not synonyms and
are not employed as auxiliaries, the first ones should be taken as
adverbs or verbal nouns, the subjects of those which follow; or these
latter as verbal nouns, the complements of those which precede.”
~PARTS OF SPEECH.~
Chinese grammarians divide all words into _shih tsz’_ and _hü tsz’_,
_i.e._, essential words and particles. The former are subdivided into
_sz’ tsz’_ and _hwoh tsz’_, _i.e._, nouns and verbs; the latter into
initials or introductory words, conjunctions, exclamations, finals,
transitive particles, etc. They furnish examples under each, and assist
the student, with model books, in which the principles of the language
and all rhetorical terms are explained. The number and variety of
grammatical and philological works prove that they have not neglected
the elucidation and arrangement of their mother tongue. The rules above
cited are applicable to the written language, and these treatises refer
entirely to that; the changes in the phraseology of the colloquial do
not affect its grammar, however, which is formed upon the same rules.
Although the characters are, when isolated, somewhat indefinite, there
are many ways of limiting their meaning in sentences. Nouns are often
made by suffixing formative particles, as _nu kí_, ‘angry spirit,’
merely means _anger_; _í kí_, ‘righteous spirit,’ is _rectitude_;
_chin ’rh_, ‘needle child,’ is a needle, etc.; the suffix, in these
cases, simply materializing the word. Gender is formed by distinctive
particles, prefixed or suffixed by appropriate words for each gender,
or by denoting one gender always by a dissyllabic compound; as
_male_-being, for the masculine; horse-_sire_, or horse-_mother_,
for stallion or dam; _hero_, _heroine_, _emperor_, _empress_, etc.;
and lastly as _wang-hau_, _i.e._, king-_queen_, for _queen_, while
_wang_ alone means _king_. Number is formed by prefixing a numeral, as
_Yung_, _Tsin_, _two_ men; by suffixing a formative, _mun_, _tăng_,
and others, as _jin-tăng_, man-_sort_, or men; _ta-mun_, he-_s_ or
they; by repeating the word, as _jin-jin_, man-man or _men_; _chu-chu_,
place-place, or places, _i.e._, everywhere; and lastly, by the scope
of the passage. The nominative, accusative, and vocative cases are
commonly known by their position; the genitive, dative, and ablative
are formed by appropriate prepositions, expressed or understood. The
vocative is common in light reading and historical studies.
Adjectives precede nouns, by which position they are usually
determined. Comparisons are made in many ways. _Hau_ is _good_, _kăng
hau_ is _better_, and _chí hau_ is _best_; _shih făn hau hau_ is
_very good_; _hau hau tih_ is _pretty good_, etc. The position of an
adjective determines its comparison, as _chang yih chih_ means _longer
by one cubit_; _yih chih chang_ is a _cubit long_. The comparison of
ideas is made by placing the two sentences parallel to each other; for
instance, “Entering the hills and seizing a tiger is easy, opening
the mouth and getting men to lean to is difficult,” is the way of
expressing the comparison, “It is easier to seize a tiger in the hills,
than to obtain the good offices of men.” The proper use of antithesis
and parallelism is considered one of the highest attainments in
composition. The numerals are thirteen in number, with the addition
of the character 零 _ling_ to denote a cipher. All amounts are written
just as they are to be read, as _yih peh sz’ shih san_, 一百四十三 _i.e._,
‘one hundred four tens three.’ They are here introduced, with their
pronunciation in three dialects.
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 100 1,000 10,000
一 二 三 四 五 六 七 八 九 十 百 千 萬
Court _yih ’rh san sz’ wu luh tsih pah kiu shih peh tsien wan._
Dialect.
Canton _yat í sam sz’ ’ng luk tsat pat kau shap pak tsín man._
Dialect.
Fuhkien _it jí sam su ngou liok chit pat kiu sip pek chien ban._
Dialect.
The Chinese, like the ancient Greeks, enumerate only up to a myriad,
expressing sums higher than that by stating how many myriads there
are; the notation of 362,447,180 is three myriads, six thousand, two
hundred and forty-four myriads, seven thousand, one hundred, and
eighty. Pronouns are few in number, and their use is avoided whenever
the sense is clear without them. The personal pronouns are three, _wo_,
_ní_, and _ta_, but other pronouns can all be readily expressed by
adjectives, by collocation, and by participial phrases. The classifiers
sometimes partake of the nature of adjective pronouns, but usually are
mere distributive or numerical adjectives.
Verbs, or “living characters,” constitute the most important part of
speech in the estimation of Chinese grammarians, and the _shun tuh_,
or easy flow of expression, in their use, is carefully studied. The
dissyllabic compounds, called _clam-shell words_, are usually verbs,
and are made in many ways; by uniting two similar words, as _kwei-kien_
(lit. peep-look), ‘to spy;’ by doubling the verb, as _kien-kien_,
meaning to look earnestly; by prefixing a formative denoting action, as
_ta shwui_ (lit. strike sleep), ‘to sleep;’ by suffixing a modifying
word, as _grasp-halt_, to grasp firmly; _think-arise_, to cogitate,
etc. No part of the study requires more attention than the right
selection of these formatives in both nouns and verbs; perfection in
the _shun tuh_ and use of antitheses is the result only of years of
study.
The various accidents of voice, mood, tense, number, and person, can
all be expressed by corresponding particles, but the genius of the
language disfavors their frequent use. The passive voice is formed
by prefixing particles indicative of agency before the active verb,
as “The villain _received_ my sword’s _cutting_,” for “The villain
was wounded by my sword.” The imperative, potential, and subjunctive
moods are formed by particles or adjuncts, but the indicative and
infinitive are not designated, nor are the number and person of verbs
usually distinguished. The number of auxiliaries, particles, adjuncts,
and suffixes of various kinds, employed to express what in other
languages is denoted by inflections, is really very moderate; and a
nice discrimination exhibited in their use indicates the finished
scholar.[300]
~DEFECTS IN THE CHINESE LANGUAGE.~
The greatest defect in the Chinese language is the indistinct manner
in which time is expressed; not that there is any want of terms to
denote its varieties, but the terseness of expression admired by
Chinese writers leads them to discard every unessential word, and
especially those relating to time. This defect is more noticed by the
foreigner than the native, who has no knowledge of the precision of
time expressed by inflection in other languages. Adverbs, prepositions,
conjunctions, and interjections are not distinguished by native
grammarians; the former are classed with adjectives, and the others are
collectively called _hü tsz’_--‘empty words.’
No distinction is made between proper and common names, and as every
word can be employed as a name it becomes a source of confusion to
the translator; in some books a single line drawn on the side of
characters denotes the names of persons, and a double line the names
of places; important words are denoted by commencing a new line with
them, raised one or two characters above the other columns, which
answers to capitalizing them. In most books an entire absence of all
marks of punctuation, and divisions into sentences and paragraphs,
causes needless doubt in the mind of the reader. The great convenience
experienced in European languages from the use of capital letters,
marks of punctuation, separation into sentences and paragraphs, and the
distinction of time, is more plainly seen when a translation is to be
made from languages like the Chinese and Japanese, in which they are
disregarded. A false taste prevents them from using them; they admire
a page of plain characters so much that a student who should punctuate
his essay would run a risk of being ridiculed.
It is not easy yet to decide on the best way to adapt the technical
words in western science to the genius of this language. The vast
terminology in natural history, with the still greater array of
scientific names, need not be introduced into it, but can remain in
their original Latin and Greek, where Chinese scientists can consult
them. New compounds have already been proposed for gases, metals,
earths, acids, and other elementary substances, in which the radical
and primitive are chosen with reference to their meanings, the latter
being more complicated than usual for this purpose. These will
gradually get into use as the sciences are studied, and their number
will not be troublesomely large.
There are several distinct styles of composition recognized. The
_ku wăn_, or the terse antithetic style of the ancient classics, is
considered as inimitable and unimprovable, and really possesses the
qualities of energy, vivacity, and brevity in a superior degree; the
_wăn chang_, or style of elevated composition, adopted in essays,
histories, and grave works; and the _siao shwoh_, or colloquial style,
used in stories.
If there are serious defects, this language also possesses some
striking beauties. The expressive nature of the characters, after their
component parts have become familiar, causes much of the meaning of a
sentence to pass instantly before the eye, while the energy arising
from the brevity attainable by the absence of all inflections and
partial use of particles, add a vigor to the style that is hardly
reached by any alphabetic language. Dr. Morrison observes that “Chinese
fine writing darts upon the mind with a vivid flash, a force and a
beauty, of which alphabetic language is incapable.” It is also better
fitted than any other for becoming a universal medium of communication,
and has actually become so to a much greater extent than any other; but
the history of its diffusion, and the modifications it has undergone
among the five nations who use it, though presenting a curious topic
for philological inquiry, is one far too extensive to be discussed
here. So general a use of one written language, however, affords some
peculiar facilities for the diffusion of knowledge by means of books as
introductory to the general elevation of the people using it, and their
preparation for substituting an alphabetic language for so laborious
and unwieldy a vehicle of thought, which it seems impossible to avoid
as Christian civilization and knowledge extend.
It is often asked, is the Chinese language hard to learn? The
preceding account of it shows that to become familiar with its
numerous characters, to be able to speak the delicately marked tones
of its short monosyllables, and to compose in it with perspicuity
and elegance, is the labor of years of close application. To do so
in Greek, Latin, English, or any settled tongue, is also a toilsome
task, and excepting the barren labor of remembering so many different
characters, it is not more so in Chinese than in others. But knowledge
sufficient to talk intelligibly, to write perspicuously, and read
with considerable ease, is not so herculean a task as some suppose,
though this degree is not to be attained without much hard study.
Moreover, dictionaries, manuals, and translations are now available
which materially diminish the labor, and their number is constantly
increasing.
~METHOD OF STUDYING CHINESE.~
The rules for studying it cannot be laid down so that they will answer
equally well for all persons. Some readily catch the most delicate
inflections of the voice, and imitate and remember the words they hear;
such persons soon learn to speak, and can make themselves understood on
common subjects with merely the help of a vocabulary. Others prefer to
sit down with a teacher and learn to read, and for most persons this is
the best way to begin. At first, the principal labor should be directed
to the characters, reading them over with a teacher and learning their
form. Commence with the two hundred and fourteen radicals, and commit
them to memory, so that they can be repeated and written in their
order; then learn the primitives, or at least become familiar with the
names and meaning of all the common ones. The aid this preliminary
study gives in remembering the formation of characters is worth all the
time it takes. Students make a mistake if they begin with the Testament
or a tract; they can learn more characters in the same period, and
lay a better foundation for acquiring others, by commencing with
the radicals and primitives. Meanwhile, they will also be learning
sounds and becoming familiar with the tones, which should be carefully
attended to as a particular study from the living voice.
When these characters are learned, short sentences or reading lessons
selected from good _Chinese_ authors, with a translation attached,
should be taken up and committed to memory. Phrases may also be learned
at the same time, for use in conversation; an excellent way is to
memorize one or two hundred common words, and then practise putting
them together in sentences. The study of reading lessons and phrases,
with practice in speaking and writing them, will prepare the way for
commencing the study of the classics or other native authors. By the
time the student has reached this point he needs no further directions;
the path he wishes thenceforth to pursue can easily be marked out by
himself. It is not amiss here to remark that many persons ardently
desirous of fitting themselves soon for preaching or talking to the
people, weary their minds and hinder their ultimate progress by too
hard study at first upon the dry characters; others come to look upon
the written language as less important so long as they can talk rapidly
and well, but in the end find that in this, as in every other living
tongue, there is no royal road which does not lead them through the
grammar and literature.[301]
~PIGEON-ENGLISH.~
This sketch of the Chinese language would be incomplete without a
notice of the singular jargon which has grown up between the natives
and foreigners along the coast, called _pigeon-English_. It has been
so long in use as the medium of traffic and household talk that it now
bids fair to become an unwritten patois, of which neither the Chinese
nor the English will own the parentage. The term _pigeon_, a corruption
from _business_, shows, in its transformation, some of the influences
which our words must undergo as they pass through the Chinese
characters. The foreigners who first settled at Canton had no time nor
facilities for learning the dialect, and the traders with whom they
bargained soon picked up more foreign words than the former did native.
The shopmen ere long formed vocabularies of foreign words obtained from
their customers, and wrote the sounds as nearly as possible; these
were committed to memory and formed into sentences according to the
idioms of their own language, and disregarding all our inflections, in
which they had no instruction. Thus the two parties gradually came to
understand each other enough for all practical ends; the foreigners
were rather pleased to talk “broken China,” as it was not inaptly
called, and habit soon made it natural to a new-comer to talk it to
the natives, and it obviated all necessity for studying Chinese. The
body of the jargon is English, the few Chinese, Portuguese, and Malay
words therein imparting a raciness which, with the novelty of the
expressions, has of late attracted much attention to this new language.
Though apparently without any rules, the natives are very liable to
misapprehend what is said to them by their masters or customers,
because these rules are not followed, and constant difficulty arises
from mutual misunderstanding of this sort. The widening study of
Chinese is not likely to do away with this droll lingo at the trade
ports, and several attempts have been made to render English pieces
into it. On the other hand, in California and elsewhere, the Chinese
generally succeed in learning the languages of their adopted countries
better than in talking _pigeon-English_, or the similar mongrel
vernacular spoken at Macao by the native-born Chinese.
A knowledge of the Chinese language is a passport to the confidence
of the people, and when foreigners generally learn it the natives
will begin to divest themselves of their prejudices and contempt. As
an inducement to study, the scholar and the philanthropist have the
prospect of benefiting and informing through it vast numbers of their
fellow-men, of imparting to them what will elevate their minds, purify
their hearts, instruct their understandings, and strengthen their
desire for more knowledge; they have an opportunity of doing much to
counteract the tremendous evils of the opium trade by teaching the
Chinese the only sure grounds on which they can be restrained, and
at the same time of making them acquainted with the discoveries in
science, medicine, and arts among western nations.
FOOTNOTES:
[290] Professor H. A. Sayce, of Oxford, in reference to a suggested
possible connection between the Chinese and primitive Accadian
population of Chaldea, says in a letter to the London _Times_: “I
would mention one fact which may certainly be considered to favor it.
The cuneiform characters of Babylonia and Assyria are, as is well
known, degenerated hieroglyphics, like the modern Chinese characters.
The original hieroglyphics were invented by the Accadians before
they descended into Babylonia from the mountains of Elam, and I have
long been convinced that they were originally written in vertical
columns. In no other way can I explain the fact that most of the
pictures to which the cuneiform characters can be traced back stand
upon their sides. There is evidence to show that the inventors of the
hieroglyphics used papyrus, or some similar vegetable substance, for
writing purposes before the alluvial plain of Babylonia furnished them
with clay, and the use of such a writing material will easily account
for the vertical direction in which the characters were made to run.”
[291] Biot has a brief note upon the methods employed by native
scholars for studying pronunciation. _Essai sur l’instruction en
Chine_, p. 597.
[292] _Easy Lessons in Chinese_, pp. 3-29; _Chinese Repository_, Vol.
III., pp. 1-37.
[293] One may gain some idea of this difficulty by referring to the
geographical names contained in the Russo-Chinese Treaty, quoted on
page 215.
[294] The writer has an edition of the _Thousand Character Classic_,
containing each couplet of eight words in a different form of
character, making one hundred and twenty-five styles of type--too
grotesque to be imitated, and probably never actually in use.
[295] See page 193. In order that the Manchu portion of this famous
poem might not appear inferior to the Chinese, the Emperor ordered
thirty-two varieties of Manchu characters to be _invented_ and
published in like manner with the others. Rémusat, _Mélanges_, Tome
II., p. 59. Père Amiot, _Éloge de la Ville de Moukden. Trad. en
françois._ Paris, 1770.
[296] _Chinese Chrestomathy_, Chap. I., Secs. 5 and 6, where the rules
for writing Chinese are given in full with numerous examples; _Easy
Lessons in Chinese_, p. 59; _Chinese Repository_, Vol. III., p. 37.
[297] _Journal Asiatic Soc. Bengal_, Vol. III. (Sept., 1834), p. 477. S.
Julien in the _Revue de l’Orient et de l’Algerie_, XX., p. 74, 1856.
[298] _Chinese Repository_, Vol. III., pp. 246-252, 528; Vol. XIV., p.
124; _Missionary Recorder_, January, 1875.
[299] _Chinese as They Are_, Chap. XXXIV.
[300] _Chinese Repository_, Vol. VIII., p. 347.
[301] Many aids in learning the general language and all the leading
dialects have been prepared in English, French, German, and Portuguese,
but several of the early ones, as Morrison, Gonçalves, Medhurst, and
Bridgman, are already out of print. The names of all of these may
be found most easily in the first volume of M. Cordier’s exhaustive
_Dictionnaire Bibliographique des ouvrages relatifs à l’Empire
chinois_, pp. 725-804. Paris, 1881.
CHAPTER XI.
CLASSICAL LITERATURE OF THE CHINESE.
The literature contained in the language now briefly described is very
ample and discursive, but wanting in accuracy and unenlivened by much
variety or humor. The books of the Chinese have formed and confirmed
their national taste, which consequently exhibits a tedious uniformity.
The unbounded admiration felt for the classics and their immaculate
authors, fostered by the examinations, has further tended to this
result, and caused these writings to become still more famous from the
unequalled influence they have exerted. It may be very readily seen,
then, with what especial interest the student of Chinese sociology
turns to an investigation of their letters, the immense accumulation
of forty centuries. Were its amount and prominence the only features
of their literature, these would suffice to make necessary some study
thereof; but in addition, continued research may reveal some further
qualities of “eloquence and poetry, enriched by the beauty of a
picturesque language, preserving to imagination all its colors,” which
will substantiate the hearty expressions used by Rémusat when first he
entered upon a critical examination of its treasures.
In taking a survey of this literature, the _Sz’ Ku Tsiuen Shu
Tsung-muh_, or ‘Catalogue of all Books in the Four Libraries,’ will
be the best guide, since it embraces the whole range of letters,
and affords a complete and succinct synopsis of the contents of
the best books in the language. It is comprised in one hundred and
twelve octavo volumes, and is of itself a valuable work, especially
to the foreigner. The books are arranged into four divisions, viz.,
Classical, Historical, and Professional writings, and Belles-lettres.
This Catalogue contains about 3,440 separate titles, comprising
upward of 78,000 books; besides these, 6,764 other works, numbering
93,242 books, have been described in other catalogues of the imperial
collections. These lists comprise the bulk of Chinese literature,
except novels, Buddhist translations, and recent publications.
The works in the first division are ranged under nine sections; one is
devoted to each of the five Classics (with a subsidiary section upon
these as a whole), one to the memoir on Filial Duty, one to the Four
Books, one to musical works, and the ninth to treatises on education,
dictionaries, etc.
~THE YIH KING, OR BOOK OF CHANGES.~
At the head of the ‘Five Classics’ (_Wu King_) is placed the _Yih
King_, or ‘Book of Changes,’ a work which if not--as it has been
repeatedly called--_Antiquissimus Sinarum liber_, can be traced
with tolerable accuracy to an origin three thousand years ago. It
ranks, according to Dr. Legge, third in antiquity among the Chinese
classics, or after the _Shu_ and portions of the _Shí King_; but if an
unbounded veneration for enigmatical wisdom supposed to lie concealed
under mystic lines be any just claim for importance, to this wondrous
monument of literature may easily be conceded the first place in the
estimation of Chinese scholars.
While following Dr. Legge in his recent exposition of this
classic,[302] a clearer idea of its subject-matter can hardly be
given than by quoting his words stating that “the text may be briefly
represented as consisting of sixty-four short essays, enigmatically
and symbolically expressed, on important themes, mostly of a moral,
social, and political character, and based on the same number of
lineal figures, each made up of six lines, some of which are whole
and the others divided.” The evolution of the eight diagrams from two
original principles is ascribed to Fuh-hí (B.C. 3322), who is regarded
as the founder of the nation, though his history is, naturally enough,
largely fabulous. From the _Liang Í_, or ‘Two Principles’ (⚊) (⚋), were
fashioned the _Sz’ Siang_, or ‘Four Figures,’ by placing these over
themselves and each of them over the other, thus:
⚌ ⚍ ⚎ ⚏
The same pairs placed in succession under the original lines formed
eight trigrams called the
_PAH KWA_ of FUH-HÍ.
----------+---------------+-------------+----------+--------------+
☰ | ☱ | ☲ | ☳ | ☴ |
_kien_ | _tui_ | _lí_ | _chin_ | _siuen_ |
----------+---------------+-------------+----------+--------------+
| Water | Fire, as in | | |
Heaven, | collected, | lightning; | Thunder. | The Wind; |
the Sky. | as in a marsh | the Sun. | | Wood. |
| or lake. | | | |
----------+---------------+-------------+----------+--------------+
S. | S.E. | E. | N.E. | S.W. |
----------+---------------+-------------+----------+--------------+
Untiring | Pleasure; | Brightness; | Moving; | Flexibility; |
strength; | complacent | elegance. | exciting | penetration. |
power. | satisfaction. | | power. | |
----------+---------------+-------------+----------+--------------+
+-------------------+------------+---------------
| ☵ | ☶ | ☷
| _kan_ | _kăn_ | _kwăn_
+-------------------+------------+---------------
| Water, as in rain,| |
| clouds, springs, | Hills or | The Earth.
| streams, and | Mountains. |
| defiles. The Moon.| |
+-------------------+------------+---------------
| W. | N.W. | N.
+-------------------+------------+---------------
| Peril; difficulty.| Resting; | Capaciousness;
| | the act of | submission.
| | arresting. |
+-------------------+------------+---------------
~ITS PHILOSOPHICAL SYSTEM.~
The table furnishes us with the natural objects that these figures are
said to represent, the attributes which should seem to be suggested
by them, and which, with the application of the eight points of
the compass, together form the material for a cabalistic logomancy
peculiarly pleasing to Chinese habits of thought. The trigrams furnish,
moreover, the state and position, at any given place or time, of the
twofold division of the one primordial _kí_, or ‘Air,’ called _Yang_
and _Yin_, and have thus become the source from whence the system
of _Fung-shui_ is derived and on whose changes it is founded. This
substance _kí_ answers sufficiently closely to the animated air of
the Grecian philosopher Anaximenes; its divisions are a subtle and a
coarse principle which, acting and reacting upon each other, produce
four _siang_, or ‘forms,’ and these again combine into eight _kwa_, or
trigrams. Fuh-hí is thus said to have arranged the first four of the
_Pah Kwa_ under the _Yang_ (strong or hard) principle, and the last
four under the _Yin_ (weak or soft) principle; the former indicate
vigor or authority, and it is their part to command, while of the
latter, representing feebleness or submission, it is the part to obey.
It was probably Wăn Wang, King Wăn, chief of the principality of Chau
in 1185 B.C., who when thrown into prison by his jealous suzerain
Shau, the tyrant of Shang, arranged and multiplied the trigrams--long
before his time used for purposes of divination--into the sixty-four
hexagrams as they now occur in the _Yih King_. His was a wholly
different disposition, both of names, attributes, and the compass
points, from the original trigrams of Fuh-hí; again, he added to them
certain social relations of father, mother, three sons, and three
daughters, which has ever since been found a convenient addition to the
conjuring apparatus of the work. “I like to think,” says Dr. Legge,
“of the lord of Chau, when incarcerated in Yu-lí, with the sixty-four
figures arranged before him. Each hexagram assumed a mystic meaning
and glowed with a deep significance. He made it to tell him of the
qualities of various objects of nature, or of the principles of human
society, or of the condition, actual and possible, of the kingdom. He
named the figures each by a term descriptive of the idea with which he
had connected it in his mind, and then he proceeded to set that idea
forth, now with a note of exhortation, now with a note of warning. It
was an attempt to restrict the follies of divination within the bounds
of reason.... But all the work of King Wăn in the _Yih_ thus amounts
to no more than sixty-four short paragraphs. We do not know what led
his son Tan to enter into his work and complete it as he did. Tan was
a patriot, a hero, a legislator, and a philosopher. Perhaps he took
the lineal figures in hand as a tribute of filial duty. What had been
done for the whole hexagram he would do for each line, and make it
clear that all the six lines ‘bent one way their precious influence,’
and blended their rays in the globe of light which his father had made
each figure give forth. But his method strikes us as singular. Each
line seemed to become living, and suggested some phenomenon in nature,
or some case of human experience, from which the wisdom or folly, the
luckiness or unluckiness, indicated by it could be inferred. It cannot
be said that the duke carried out his plan in a way likely to interest
any one but a _hien shăng_ who is a votary of divination and admires
the style of its oracles. According to our notions, a framer of emblems
should be a good deal of a poet; but those of the _Yih_ only make us
think of a dryasdust. Out of more than three hundred and fifty, the
greater number are only grotesque. We do not recover from the feeling
of disappointment till we remember that both father and son had to
write ‘according to the trick,’ after the manner of diviners, as if
this lineal augury had been their profession.”
Such is the text of the _Yih_. The words of King Wăn and his son are
followed by commentaries called the _Shih Yih_, or ‘Ten Wings.’ These
are of a much later period than the text, and are commonly ascribed to
Confucius, though it is extremely doubtful if the sage was author of
more than the sentences introduced by the oft-repeated formula, “The
Master said,” occurring in or concluding many chapters of the ‘Wings.’
Without lingering over the varied contents of these appendices,
more than to point out that the fifth and sixth Wings (‘Appended
Sentences’), known as the ‘Great Treatise,’ contains for the first time
the character _Yih_, or ‘Change,’ it will be necessary, before leaving
this classic, to illustrate its curious nature by means of a single
quotation.
~EXTRACTS FROM THE YIH KING.~
XXXI.--THE _HIEN_ HEXAGRAM.
䷞
Hien indicates that [on the fulfilment of the conditions implied in
it] there will be free course and success. Its advantageousness will
depend on the being firm and correct, [as] in marrying a young lady.
There will be good fortune.
1. The first line, divided, shows one moving his great toes.
2. The second line, divided, shows one moving the calves of his leg.
There will be evil. If he abide [quiet in his place] there will be
good fortune.
3. The third line, undivided, shows one moving his thighs, and
keeping close hold of those whom he follows. Going forward [in this
way] will cause regret.
4. The fourth line, undivided, shows that firm correctness which will
lead to good fortune and prevent all occasion for repentance. If its
subject be unsettled in his movements, [only] his friends will follow
his purpose.
5. The fifth line, undivided, shows one moving the flesh along the
spine above the heart. There will be no occasion for repentance.
6. The sixth line, divided, shows one moving his jaws and tongue.
~ITS CHARACTER AND INFLUENCE.~
An idea of the several commentaries, or ‘Wings,’ upon such a passage
may be gained from the following excerpts. First comes the ‘Treatise
on the Twan,’ or King Wăn’s paragraphs; then the ‘Treatise on the
Symbols,’ consisting of observations on Duke Chau’s exposition.
From the _Second Wing_.--1. _Hien_ is here used in the sense of
_Kan_, meaning [mutually] influencing.
2. The weak [trigram] above, and the strong one below; their two
influences moving and responding to each other, and thereby forming
a union; the repression [of the one] and the satisfaction [of the
other]; [with their relative position] where the male is placed
below the female--all these things convey the notion of ‘a free and
successful course [on the fulfilment of the conditions], while the
advantage will depend on being firm and correct, as in marrying a
young lady, and there will be good fortune.’ ... etc., etc.
_Fourth Wing._--[The trigram representing] a mountain and above it
that for [the waters of] a marsh form _Hien_. The superior man, in
accordance with this, keeps his mind free from preoccupation, and
open to receive [the influences of] others.
1. ‘He moves his great toe’--his mind is set on what is beyond
[himself].
2. Though ‘there would be evil, yet if he abide [quiet] in his
place there will be good fortune’--through compliance [with the
circumstances of his condition and place] there will be no injury.
3. ‘He moves his thighs’--he still does not [want to] rest in his
place. His will is set on ‘following others;’ what he holds in his
grasp is low.
4. ‘Firm correctness will lead to good fortune, and prevent all
occasion for repentance’--there has not yet been any harm from [a
selfish wish to] influence. ‘He is unsettled in his movements’--[his
power to influence] is not yet either brilliant or great.
5. ‘He [tries to] move the flesh along the spine above the
heart’--his aim is trivial.
6. ‘He moves his jaws and tongue’--he [only] talks with loquacious
mouth.
_Sixth Wing_ (‘Appended Sentences’).--Chapter I.--1. The eight
trigrams having been completed in their proper order, there were in
each the [three] emblematic lines. They were then multiplied by a
process of addition till the [six] component lines appeared.
2. The strong line and the weak push themselves each into the place
of the other, and hence the changes [of the diagrams] take place. The
appended explanations attach to every form of them its character [of
good or ill], and hence the movements [suggested by divination] are
determined accordingly.
3. Good fortune and ill, occasion for repentance or regret, all arise
from these movements ... etc., etc.
The hundreds of fortune-tellers seen in the streets of Chinese towns,
whose answers to their perplexed customers are more or less founded
on these cabala, indicate their influence among the illiterate; while
among scholars, who have long since conceded all divination to be vain,
it is surprising to remark the profound estimation in which these inane
lines are held as the consummation of all wisdom--the germ, even,
of all the truths which western science has brought to light! Each
hexagram is supposed to represent, at any given time, six different
phases of the primordial _kí_. “As all the good and evil in the world,”
observes McClatchie, “is attributed by the Chinese philosophers to the
purity or impurity of the animated air from which the two-fold soul
in man is formed, a certain moral value attaches to each stroke, and
the diviner prognosticates accordingly that good or evil luck, as the
case may be, will result to the consulter of the oracle with regard
to the matter on which he seeks it. Nine is the number of Heaven, or
the undivided stroke, and six is the number of Earth, or the divided
stroke, and hence each stroke has a double designation. The first
stroke, if undivided, is designated ‘First-Nine,’ but if divided it
is designated ‘First-Six,’ and so on. The second and fifth strokes in
each diagram are important, being the centre or medium strokes of their
respective lesser diagrams. The fifth stroke, however, is the most
important in divination, as it represents that portion of the air which
is the especial throne of the imperial power, and is the ‘undeflected
due medium.’ Nothing but good luck can follow if the person divining
with the straws obtains this stroke. Tao, or the Divine Reason, which
is the supreme soul of the whole Kosmos, animates the air, pervading
its six phases, and thus giving power to the diagrams to make known
future events to mankind.”
Of course anything and everything could be deduced from such a fanciful
groundwork, but the Chinese have taken up the discussion in the
most serious manner, and endeavored to find the hidden meaning and
evolutions of the universe from this curious system. The diagrams have,
moreover, supplied the basis for many species of divination by shells,
letters, etc., by which means the mass of the people are deluded into
the belief of penetrating futurity, and still more wedded to their
superstitions. The continued influence of such a work as the _Yih_
illustrates the national _penchant_ for laws and method, while equally
indicating the general indifference to empirical research and the
facts deduced from study of natural history. If, from a philosophical
standpoint, we consider the barrenness of its results, there is
little, indeed, to say for the _Yih King_, save concurrence in Dr.
Gustave Schlegel’s epithet, “a mechanical play of idle abstractions;”
nevertheless, this classic contains in its whimsical dress of
inscrutable strokes much of practical wisdom, giving heed to which it
is not hard to agree with Dr. Legge in concluding that “the inculcation
of such lessons cannot have been without good effect in China during
the long course of its history.”[303]
~THE SHU KING, OR BOOK OF RECORDS.~
The second section of the Imperial Catalogue contains treatises
upon the _Shu King_, or ‘Book of Records.’ This classic, first in
importance as it is in age among the five _King_, consists of a series
of documents relating to the history of China from the times of Yao
down to King Hiang, of the Chau dynasty (B.C. 2357-627). Its earlier
chapters were composed at periods following the events of which they
relate, but after the twenty-second century B.C. the _Shu_ comes to
us, though in a mutilated condition, as the contemporary chronicle
of proclamations, addresses, and principles of the early sovereigns.
Internal evidence leads to the conclusion that Confucius acted chiefly
as editor of documents existing in his day; he probably wrote the
preface, but what alterations it received at his hand cannot now be
ascertained. When it left his care it contained eighty-one documents
in one hundred books, arranged under the five dynasties of Yao, Shun,
Hia, Shang, and Chau, the last one coming down to within two hundred
and twenty-one years of his own birth. Most of these are lost, and
others are doubted by Chinese critics, so that now only forty-eight
documents remain, thirty of them belonging to the Chau, with the
preface ascribed to Confucius. He showed his estimate of their value
by calling the whole _Shang Shu_, or the ‘Highest Book,’ and we may
class their loss with that of other ancient works in Hebrew or Greek
literature. The _Shu King_ now contains six different kinds of state
papers, viz., imperial ordinances, plans drawn up by statesmen as
guides for their sovereign, instructions prepared for the guidance of
the prince, imperial proclamations and charges to the people, vows
taken before Shangtí by the monarch when going out to battle, and,
lastly, mandates, announcements, speeches, and canons issued to the
ministers of state.[304]
The morality of the _Shu King_, for a pagan work, is extremely good;
the principles of administration laid down in it, founded on a regard
to the welfare of the people, would, if carried out, insure universal
prosperity. The answer of Kaoyao to the monarch Yu is expressive of
a mild spirit: “Your virtue, O Emperor, is faultless. You condescend
to your ministers with a liberal ease; you rule the multitude with a
generous forbearance. Your punishments do not extend to the criminal’s
heirs, but your rewards reach to after-generations. You pardon
inadvertent faults, however great, and punish deliberate crime, however
small. In cases of doubtful crimes you deal with them lightly; of
doubtful merit, you prefer the highest estimate. Rather than put to
death the guiltless, you will run the risk of irregularity and laxity.
This life-loving virtue has penetrated the minds of the people, and
this is why they do not render themselves liable to be punished by your
officers.”[305]
In the counsels of Yu to Shun are many of the best maxims of good
government, both for rulers and ruled, which antiquity has handed down
in any country. The following are among them: “Yih said, Alas! Be
cautious. Admonish yourself to caution when there seems to be no reason
for anxiety. Do not fail in due attention to laws and ordinances. Do
not find enjoyment in indulgent ease. Do not go to excess in pleasure.
Employ men of worth without intermediaries. Put away evil advisers, nor
try to carry out doubtful plans. Study that all your purposes may be
according to reason. Do not seek the people’s praises by going against
reason, nor oppose the people to follow your own desires. Be neither
idle nor wayward, and even foreign tribes will come under your sway.”
The _Shu King_ contains the seeds of all things that are valuable
in the estimation of the Chinese; it is at once the foundation of
their political system, their history, and their religious rites,
the basis of their tactics, music, and astronomy. Some have thought
that the knowledge of the true God under the appellation of Shangtí
is not obscurely intimated in it, and the precepts for governing
a country, scattered through its dialogues and proclamations, do
their writers credit, however little they may have been followed in
practice. Its astronomy has attracted much investigation, but whether
the remarks of the commentators are to be ascribed to the times in
which they themselves flourished, or to the knowledge they had of
the ancient state of the science, is doubtful. The careful and candid
discussions by Legge in the introduction to his translation furnish
most satisfactory conclusions as to the origin, value, and condition of
this venerable relic of ancient China. For his scholarly edition of the
_Classics_ he has already earned the hearty thanks of every student of
Chinese literature.[306]
~THE SHÍ KING, OR BOOK OF ODES.~
The third of the classics, the _Shí King_, or ‘Book of Odes,’ is
ranked together with the two preceding, while its influence upon the
national mind has been equally great; a list of commentators upon
this work fills the third section of the Catalogue. These poetical
relics are arranged into four parts: The _Kwoh Fung_, or ‘National
Airs,’ numbering one hundred and fifty-nine, from fifteen feudal
States; the _Siao Ya_, or ‘Lesser Eulogiums,’ numbering eighty, and
arranged under eight decades; the _Ta Ya_, or ‘Greater Eulogiums,’
numbering thirty-one, under three decades (both of these were designed
to be sung on solemn occasions at the royal court); and the _Sung_,
or ‘Sacrificial Odes,’ numbering forty-one chants connected with the
ancestral worship of the rulers of Chau, Lu, and Shang. Out of a total
number of three hundred and eleven now extant, six have only their
titles preserved, while to a major part of the others native scholars
give many various readings.
In the preface to his careful translation Dr. Legge has collected all
the important information concerning the age, origin, and purpose of
these odes, as furnished by native commentators, whose theory is that
“it was the duty of the kings to make themselves acquainted with all
the odes and songs current in the different States, and to judge from
them of the character of the rule exercised by their several princes,
so that they might minister praise or blame, reward or punishment
accordingly.” These odes and songs seem to have been gathered by Wăn
Wang and Duke Chau at the beginning of the Chau dynasty (B.C. 1120),
some of them at the capital, others from the feudal rulers in the
course of royal progresses through the land, the royal music-master
getting copies from the music-masters of the princes. The whole were
then arranged, set to music, too, it may be, and deposited for use and
reference in the national archives, as well as distributed among the
feudatories. Their ages are uncertain, but probably do not antedate
B.C. 1719 nor come after 585, or about thirty years before Confucius.
Their number was not improbably at first fully up to the three
thousand mentioned by the biographers of Confucius, but long before
the sage appeared disasters of one kind and another had reduced them
to nearly their present condition. What we have is, therefore, but a
fragment of various collections made in the early reigns of the Chau
sovereigns, which received, perhaps, larger subsequent additions than
were preserved to the time of Confucius. He probably took them as they
existed in his day, and feeling, possibly, like George Herbert, that
“A verse may finde him, who a sermon flies,
And turn delight into a sacrifice,”
did everything he could to extend their adoption among his countrymen.
It is difficult to estimate the power they have exerted over the
subsequent generations of Chinese scholars--nor has their influence
ever tended to debase their morals, if it has not exalted their
imagination. They have escaped the looseness of Moschus, Ovid, or
Juvenal, if they have not attained the grandeur of Homer or the
sweetness of Virgil and Pindar. There is nothing of an epic character
in them--nor even a lengthened narrative--and little of human
passions in their strong development. The metaphors and illustrations
are often quaint, sometimes puerile, and occasionally ridiculous.
Their acknowledged antiquity, their religious character, and their
illustration of early Chinese customs and feelings form their
principal claims to our notice and appreciative study. M. Ed. Biot, of
Paris, was the first European scholar who studied them carefully in
this aspect, and his articles in the _Journal Asiatique_ for 1843 are
models of analytic criticism and synthetic compilation, enabling one,
as he says, “to contemplate at his ease the spectacle of the primitive
manners of society in the early age of China, so different from what
was then found in Europe and Western Asia.”
~EXAMPLES OF ITS LYRIC POETRY.~
An ode referred to the time of Wăn Wang (a contemporary of Saul)
contains a sentiment reminding us of Morris’ lines beginning “Woodman,
spare that tree.” It is in Part I., Book II., and is called _Kan-tang_,
or the ‘Sweet pear-tree.’
1. O fell not that sweet pear-tree!
See how its branches spread.
Spoil not its shade,
For Shao’s chief laid
Beneath it his weary head.
2. O clip not that sweet pear-tree!
Each twig and leaflet spare--
’Tis sacred now,
Since the lord of Shao,
When weary, rested him there.
3. O touch not that sweet pear-tree!
Bend not a twig of it now;
There long ago,
As the stories show,
Oft halted the chief of Shao.[307]
The eighth ode in Book III., called _Hiung Chí_, or ‘Cock Pheasant,’
contains a wife’s lament on her husband’s absence.
1. Away the startled pheasant flies,
With lazy movement of his wings;
Borne was my heart’s lord from my eyes--
What pain the separation brings!
2. The pheasant, though no more in view,
His cry below, above, forth sends.
Alas! my princely lord, ’tis you,--
Your absence, that my bosom rends.
3. At sun and moon I sit and gaze,
In converse with my troubled heart.
Far, far from me my husband stays!
When will he come to heal its smart?
4. Ye princely men, who with him mate,
Say, mark ye not his virtuous way?
His rule is, covet nought, none hate:
How can his steps from goodness stray?[308]
From the same book we translate somewhat freely an example (No. 17) of
love-song, or serenade, not uncommon among these odes.
Maiden fair, so sweet, retiring,
At the tryst I wait for thee;
Still I pause in doubt, inquiring
Why thou triflest thus with me.
Ah! the maid so coy, so handsome,
Pledged she with a rosy reed;
Than the reed is she more winsome.
Love with beauty hard must plead!
In the meadows sought we flowers,
These she gave me--beauteous, rare:
Far above the gift there towers
The dear giver--lovelier, fair!
Among the ‘Lesser Eulogiums’ (Book IV., Ode 5) is one more ambitious in
its scope, relating to the completion of a palace of King Siuen, about
B.C. 800.
1. On yonder banks a palace, lo! upshoots,
The tender blue of southern hill behind,
Time-founded, like the bamboo’s clasping roots;
Its roof, made pine-like, to a point defined.
Fraternal love here bears its precious fruits,
And unfraternal schemes be ne’er designed!
2. Ancestral sway is his. The walls they rear
Five thousand cubits long, and south and west
The doors are placed. Here will the king appear,
Here laugh, here talk, here sit him down and rest.
3. To mould the walls, the frames they firmly tie;
The toiling builders beat the earth and lime;
The walls shall vermin, storm, and bird defy--
Fit dwelling is it for his lordly prime.
4. Grand is the hall the noble lord ascends;
In height, like human form, most reverent, grand;
And straight, as flies the shaft when bow unbends;
Its tints like hues when pheasant’s wings expand.
5. High pillars rise the level court around;
The pleasant light the open chamber steeps,
And deep recesses, wide alcoves are found,
Where our good king in perfect quiet sleeps.
6. Laid is the bamboo mat on rush mat square;
Here shall he sleep; and waking say, “Divine
What dreams are good? For bear and piebald bear,
And snakes and cobras haunt this couch of mine.”
7. Then shall the chief diviner glad reply,
“The bears foreshow their signs of promised sons.
The snakes and cobras daughters prophesy:
These auguries are all auspicious ones.”
8. Sons shall be his--on couches lulled to rest;
The little ones enrobed, with sceptres play;
Their infant cries are loud as stern behest,
Their knees the vermeil covers shall display.
As king hereafter one shall be addressed;
The rest, our princes, all the States shall sway.
9. And daughters also to him shall be born.
They shall be placed upon the ground to sleep;
Their playthings tiles, their dress the simplest worn;
Their part alike from good and ill to keep,
And ne’er their parents’ hearts to cause to mourn;
To cook the food, and spirit-malt to steep.[309]
The last two stanzas indicate the comparative estimate, in ancient
days, of boys and girls born into a family; and this estimate, still
maintained, has been in a great degree upheld by this authority.
Another ode in the ‘Greater Eulogies’ (Book III., Ode 10) deplores
the misery that prevailed about B.C. 780, owing to the interference
of women and eunuchs in the government. Two stanzas only are quoted,
which are supposed to have been specially directed against Pao Sz’, a
mischief-maker in the court of King Yu, like Agrippina and Pulcheria in
Roman and Byzantine annals.
3. A wise man builds the city wall,
But a wise woman throws it down.
Wise is she? Good you may her call;
She is an owl we should disown!
To woman’s tongue let scope be given
And step by step to harm it leads.
Disorder does not come from Heaven;
’Tis woman’s tongue disorder breeds.
Women and eunuchs! Never came
Lesson or warning words from them!
4. Hurtful and false, their spite they wreak;
And when exposed their falsehood lies--
The wrong they do not own, but sneak
And say, “No harm did we devise.”
“Thrice cent. per cent.!” Why, that is trade!
Yet ’twould the princely man disgrace.
So public things to wife and maid
Must not silkworms and looms displace.[310]
There are, however, numerous stanzas among the odes in the ‘National
Airs’ which show their fairer side and go far to neutralize these,
giving the same contrasts in female character which were portrayed by
King Solomon during the same age.
~VERSIFICATION OF THE SHÍ KING.~
The versification in a monosyllabic language appears very tame to
those who are only familiar with the lively and varied rhythms of
western tongues; but the Chinese express more vivacity and cadence in
their ballads and ditties when sung than one would infer from these
ancient relics when transliterated in our letters. As the young lad has
usually committed all the three hundred and five odes to memory before
he enters the Examination Hall, their influence on the matter and
manner of his own future poetical attempts can hardly be exaggerated.
It is shown throughout the thousands of volumes enumerated in the
fourth division of the Imperial Catalogue. Most of the _Shí King_
is written in tetrametres, and nothing can be more simple. They have
been most unfortunately likened to the Hebrew Psalms by some of the
early missionaries, but neither in manner nor matter is the comparison
a happy one. One point of verbal resemblance is noticed by Dr. Legge
between the first ode in Part III. and the one hundred and twenty-first
psalm, where the last line of a stanza is generally repeated in the
first line of the next, a feature something like the repetitions in
_Hiawatha_. The rhymes and tones both form an essential part of Chinese
poetry, one which can only be imperfectly represented in our language.
The following furnishes an example of the general style, to which a
literal rendering is subjoined:
1. _Nan yin kiao muh,_ South has stately trees,
_Puh k’o hiu sih;_ Not can shelter indeed;
_Han yin yin nü,_ Han has rambling women,
_Puh k’o kiu sz’._ Not can solicit indeed.
_Han chí kwang í,_ Han’s breadth be sure,
_Puh k’o yung sz’;_ Not can be dived indeed;
_Kiang chí yung í_ Kiang’s length be sure,
_Puh k’o fang sz’._ Not can be rafted indeed.
2. _Kiao kiao tso sin,_ Many many mixed faggots,
_Yen í kí chu;_ Willingly I cut the brambles;
_Chí tsz’ yü kwei_ Those girls going home,
_Yen moh kí ma;_ Willingly I would feed their horses;
_Han chí kwang í, etc._ Han’s breadth be sure, etc.
3. _Kiao kiao tso sin,_ Many many mixed faggots,
_Yen í kí lao;_ Willingly I cut the artemisia;
_Chí tsz’ yü kwei_ Those girls going home,
_Yen moh kí kü._ Willingly I would feed their colts;
_Han chí kwang í, etc._ Han’s breadth be sure, etc.
The highest range of thought in the odes is contained in Part IV.,
but the whole collection is worthy of perusal, and through the labors
of Dr. Legge has been made more accessible than it was ever before.
The amount of native literature extant, illustrative, critical, and
philological, referring to the _Book of Odes_[311] is not so large
as that on the _Yih King_; but the fifty-five works quoted in his
preface[312] contain enough to indicate their industry and acumen.
These works will elevate the character of Chinese scholarship in the
opinion of those foreigners who remember the disadvantages of its
isolation from the literature of other lands, and the difficulties of
a language which rendered that literature inaccessible.[313]
~THE THREE RITUALS.~
The fourth section in the Catalogue contains the Rituals and a list of
their editions and commentators, but only one of the three is numbered
among the _King_ and used as a text-book at the public examinations.
This is the _Lí Kí_, or ‘Book of Rites,’ the _Mémorial des Rites_,
as M. Callery calls it in his translation,[314] and one of the works
which has done so much to mold and maintain Chinese character and
institutions. It is not superior in any respect to the _Chau Lí_ and
the _Í Lí_, but owes its influence to its position. They were all the
particular objects of Tsin Chí Hwangtí’s ire in his efforts to destroy
every ancient literary production in his kingdom; the present texts
were recovered from their hiding-places about B.C. 135. The _Chau Lí_,
or ‘Ritual of Chau,’ is regarded as the work of Duke Chau (B.C. 1130),
who gives the detail of the various offices established under the new
dynasty, in which he bore so prominent a part. The sections containing
the divisions of the administrative part of the Chinese government of
that day have furnished the types for the six boards of the present day
and their subdivisions. So far as we now know, no nation then existing
could show so methodical and effective a system of national polity.
The _Í Lí_ is a smaller work, treating of family affairs, and as its
name, ‘Decorum Ritual,’ indicates, contains directions for domestic
life, as the other does for state matters. That is in forty-four
sections and this is in seven, and both are now accepted as among the
most ancient works extant. The former was translated by Ed. Biot,[315]
and remains a monument of his scholarship and research.
~THE LÍ KÍ, OR BOOK OF RITES.~
The _Lí Kí_ owes its position among the classics to the belief that
Confucius here gives his views on government and manners, although
these chapters are not regarded as the same in their integrity as those
said to have been found in the walls of his house, and brought to light
in the second century B.C. by Kao Tang of Lu, under the name of _Sz’
Lí_, or the ‘Scholar’s Ritual.’ In the next century Tai Teh collected
all the existing documents relating to the ancient rituals in two
hundred and fourteen sections, only a portion of which were then held
to have emanated from the sage and recorded by his pupils. His work,
in eighty-five sections, is called _Ta Tai Lí_, or the ‘Senior Tai’s
Ritual,’ to distinguish it from the _Siao Tai Lí_, or the ‘Junior Tai’s
Ritual,’ a work in forty-nine sections, by his nephew, Tai Shing. This
is the work now known as the _Lí Kí_, M. Callery’s translation of which
contains the authorized text of Kanghí according to Fan Tsz’-tăng, in
thirty-six sections, with many notes. His translation is wearisome
reading from the multitude of parentheses interjected into the text,
distracting the attention and weakening its continuity.
Those who have read Abbé Huc’s entertaining remarks on the Rites in
China will find in these three works the reason and application of
their details. In explanation of their importance, M. Callery shows
in a few words what a wide field they cover: “Ceremony epitomizes the
entire Chinese mind; and, in my opinion, the _Lí Kí_ is _per se_ the
most exact and complete monograph that China has been able to give of
itself to other nations. Its affections, if it has any, are satisfied
by ceremony; its duties are fulfilled by ceremony; its virtues and
vices are referred to ceremony; the natural relations of created
beings essentially link themselves in ceremonial--in a word, to that
people ceremonial is man as a moral, political, and religious being
in his multiplied relations with family, country, society, morality,
and religion.” This explanation shows, too, how meagre a rendering
_ceremony_ is for the Chinese idea of _lí_, for it includes not only
the external conduct, but involves the right principles from which
all true etiquette and politeness spring. The state religion, the
government of a family, and the rules of society are all founded on the
true _lí_, or relations of things. Reference has already been made to
this profoundly esteemed work (p. 520), and one or two more extracts
will suffice to exhibit its spirit and style, singular in its object
and scope among all the bequests of antiquity.
_Affection between father and son._
In the Domestic Rules it is said, “Men in serving their parents,
at the first cock-crowing, must all wash their hands; rinse their
mouth; comb their hair; bind it together with a net; fasten it with
a bodkin, forming it into a tuft; brush off the dust; put on the
hat, tying the strings, ornamented with tassels; also the waistcoat,
frock, and girdle, with the note-sticks placed in it, and the
indispensables attached on the right and left; bind on the greaves;
and put on the shoes, tying up the strings. Wives must serve their
husband’s father and mother as their own; at the first cock-crowing,
they must wash their hands; rinse their mouth; comb their hair; bind
it together with a net; fasten it with a bodkin, forming it into
a tuft; put on their frocks and girdles, with the indispensables
attached on the right and left; fasten on their bags of perfumery;
put on and tie up their shoes. Then go to the chamber of their father
and mother, and father-in-law and mother-in-law, and having entered,
in a low and placid tone they must inquire whether their dress is too
warm or too cool; if the parents have pain or itching, themselves
must respectfully press or rub [the part affected]; and if they enter
or leave the room, themselves either going before or following, must
respectfully support them. In bringing the apparatus for washing, the
younger must present the bowl; the elder the water, begging them to
pour it and wash; and after they have washed, hand them the towel.
In asking and respectfully presenting what they wish to eat, they
must cheer them by their mild manner; and must wait till their father
and mother, and father-in-law and mother-in-law have eaten, and then
retire. Boys and girls, who have not arrived at the age of manhood
and womanhood, at the first cock-crowing must wash their hands; rinse
their mouth; comb their hair; bind it together with a net; and form
it into a tuft; brush off the dust; tie on their bags, having them
well supplied with perfumery; then hasten at early dawn to see their
parents, and inquire if they have eaten and drunk; if they have, they
must immediately retire; but if not, they must assist their superiors
in seeing that everything is duly made ready.”
_Of reproving parents._
“When his parents are in error, the son with a humble spirit,
pleasing countenance, and gentle tone, must point it out to them. If
they do not receive his reproof, he must strive more and more to be
dutiful and respectful toward them till they are pleased, and then
he must again point out their error. But if he does not succeed in
pleasing them, it is better that he should continue to reiterate
reproof, than permit them to do injury to the whole department,
district, village, or neighborhood. And if the parents, irritated and
displeased, chastise their son till the blood flows from him, even
then he must not dare to harbor the least resentment; but, on the
contrary, should treat them with increased respect and dutifulness.”
_Respect to be paid parents in one’s conduct._
“Although your father and mother are dead, if you propose to yourself
any good work, only reflect how it will make their names illustrious,
and your purpose will be fixed. So if you propose to do what is not
good, only consider how it will disgrace the names of your father and
mother, and you will desist from your purpose.”[316]
These extracts show something of the molding principles which operate
on Chinese youth from earliest years, and the scope given in his
education to filial piety. From conning such precepts the lad is imbued
with a respect for his parents that finally becomes intensified into
a religious sentiment, and forms, as he increases in age, his only
creed--the worship of ancestors. His seniors, on the other hand, have
but to point to the text-books before him as authority for all things
they exact, and as being the only possible source of those virtues that
conduct to happiness. The position of females, too, has remained, under
these dogmas, much the same for hundreds of years. Nor is it difficult
to account for the influence which they have had. Those who were most
aware of their excellence, and had had some experience in the tortuous
dealings of the human heart, as husbands, fathers, mothers, officers,
and seniors, were those who had the power to enforce obedience upon
wives, children, daughters, subjects, and juniors, as well as teach
it to them. These must wait till increasing years brought about their
turn to fill the upper rank in the social system, by which time habit
would lead them to exercise their sway over the rising generation in
the same manner. Thus it would be perpetuated, for the man could not
depart from the way his childhood was trained; had the results been
more disastrous, it would have been easy for us to explain why, amid
the ignorance, craft, ambition, and discontent found in a populous,
uneducated, pagan country, such formal rules had failed of benefiting
society to any lasting extent. We must look higher for this result, and
acknowledge the degree of wholesome restraint upon the passions of the
Chinese which the Author of whatever is good in these tenets has seen
fit to confer upon them in order to the preservation of society.
~THE CHUN TSIU, OR SPRING AND AUTUMN RECORD.~
The fifth section contains the _Chun Tsiu_, or ‘Spring and Autumn
Record,’ and its literature. This is the only one of the _King_
attributed to Confucius, though whether we have in the _Record_, as it
now exists, a genuine compilation of the sage, does not appear to be
beyond doubt. His object being to construct a narrative of events in
continuation of the _Shu King_, he, with assistance from his pupils,
drew up a history of his own country, extending from the reign of Ping
Wang to about the period of his birth (B.C. 722 to 480). Inasmuch as
the author of this chronicle confined himself to the relation of such
facts as he deemed worthy to be recorded, and was not above altering or
concealing such details as in his private judgment appeared unworthy of
the princes of his dynasty, this history cannot be regarded as exactly
in conformity with modern notions of what is desirable in works of this
class. That Confucius wished to leave behind him a lasting monument to
his own name, as well as a narration of events, we gather from more
than one of his utterances: “The superior man is distressed lest his
name should not be honorably mentioned after death. My principles do
not make way in the world; how shall I make myself known to future
ages?” In order, therefore, to insure the preservation of his _chef
d’œuvre_ to all time, he combines with the annals certain censures and
righteous decisions which should render it at once a history and a
text-book of moral lessons; and in giving the book to his disciples,
“It is by the _Chun Tsiu_,” he said, “that after-ages will know me, and
also by it that they will condemn me.”
The title, “Spring and Autumn,” is understood by many Chinese scholars
to be a term for chronological annals; in this case the name being
explained “because their commendations are life-giving like spring,
and their censures life-withering like autumn,” or, as we find in the
_Trimetrical Classic_, “which by praise and blame separates the good
and bad.”[317] A closer inspection of the _Chun Tsiu_ is sure to prove
disappointing; spite of the glowing accounts of Mencius and its great
reputation, this history is simply a bald record of incidents whose
entire contents afford barely an hour’s reading. “Instead of a history
of events,” writes Dr. Legge, “woven artistically together, we find a
congeries of the briefest possible intimations of matters in which the
court and State of Lu were more or less concerned, extending over two
hundred and forty-two years, without the slightest tincture of literary
ability in the composition, or the slightest indication of judicial
opinion on the part of the writer. The paragraphs are always brief.
Each one is designed to commemorate a fact; but whether that fact be a
display of virtue calculated to command our admiration, or a deed of
atrocity fitted to awaken our disgust, it can hardly be said that there
is anything in the language to convey to us the shadow of an idea of
the author’s feelings about it. The notices--for we cannot call them
narratives--are absolutely unimpassioned. A base murder and a shining
act of heroism are chronicled just as the eclipses of the sun are
chronicled. So and so took place; that is all. No details are given;
no judgment is expressed.”
~ITS COMMENTARIES.~
So imperturbable a recital could hardly have been saved from extinction
even by the great reputation of the sage, had it not been for the
amplification of Tso, a younger contemporary or follower of Confucius,
who filled up the meagre sentences and added both flesh and life to
the skeleton. It is possible that the enthusiastic praises of Mencius
are due to the fact that he associated the text and commentary as one
work. The Chuen of Tso has indeed always been regarded as foremost
among the secondary classics; nor is it too much, considering his terse
yet vivid and pictorial style, to call its author, as does Dr. Legge,
“the Froissart of China.”[318] In addition to his purpose of explaining
the text of the _Chun Tsiu_, Tso’s secondary object was to give a
general view of the history of China during the period embraced by
that record; unless he had put his living tableaux into the framework
of his master, there is grave reason to fear that many most important
details relating to the sixth and seventh centuries B.C. would have
been forever lost. Two other early commentaries, those of Kung Yang and
Kuh Liang, dating from about the second century B.C., occupy a high
position in the estimation of Chinese scholars as illustrative of the
original chronicle. They do not compare with the _Tso Chuen_ either in
interest or in authority, though it may be said that a study of the
_Chun Tsiu_ can hardly be made unless attended with a careful perusal
of their contents. It will not be without interest to give an example
of the _Record_, followed with elucidations of the text by these three
annotators. The second year of Duke Hí of Lu (B.C. 657) runs as follows:
~EXTRACTS FROM THE CHUN TSIU.~
1. In the [duke’s] second year, in spring, in the king’s first month,
we [aided in the] walling of Tsu-kin.
2. In summer, in the fifth month, on Sin-sz’, we buried our duchess,
Gai Kiang.
3. An army of Yu and an army of Tsin extinguished Hia-yang.
4. In autumn, in the ninth month, the Marquis of Tsz’, the Duke of
Sung, an officer of Kiang, and an officer of Hwang, made a covenant
in Kwan.
5. In winter, in the tenth month, there was no rain.
6. A body of men from Tsu made an incursion into Ching.
Upon the third entry for this year the _Tso Chuen_ enlarges:
Seun Seih, of Tsin, requested leave from the marquis to take his team
of Kiuh horses and his _peih_ of Chui-keih jade, and with them borrow
a way from Yu to march through it and attack Kwoh. “They are the
things I hold most precious,” said the marquis. Seih replied, “But if
you get a way through Yu, it is but like placing them in a treasury
outside the State for a time.” “There is Kung Che-kí in Yu,” objected
the duke. “Kung Che-kí,” returned the other, “is a weak man, and
incapable of remonstrating vigorously. And, moreover, from his youth
up he has always been with the Duke of Yu, who is so familiar with
him that though he should remonstrate the duke will not listen to
him.” The marquis accordingly sent Seun Seih to borrow a way through
Yu with this message: “Formerly Kí, against right and reason, entered
your State from Tien-ling, and attacked the three gates of Ming. It
suffered for so doing, all through your grace. Now Kwoh, against
right and reason, has been keeping guards about the travellers’
lodges, to make incursions from them into my southern borders, and
I venture to beg a right of way from you to ask an account of its
offence.” The Duke of Yu granted the request, and even asked to take
the lead in invading Kwoh. Kung Che-kí remonstrated with him, but in
vain; and he raised his army for the enterprise. In summer, Lí Kih
and Seun Seih brought on the army of Tsin, made a junction with that
of Yu, and invaded Kwoh, when they extinguished Hia-yang. The army of
Yu is mentioned first, because of the bribes which the duke accepted.
The commentary of Kung Yang says on the same paragraph:
Yu was a small State; why is it that it is here made to take
precedence of a great one? To make Yu take the lead in the wickedness.
Why is Yu made to take the lead in the wickedness? Yu received the
bribes with which those [who were going to] extinguish the State [of
Kwoh] borrowed a way through it, and thus brought on its own ruin.
How did it receive [those] bribes? Duke Hien [of Tsin] gave audience
to his great officers, and asked them why it was that he had lain
all night without sleeping. One of them advanced and said, “Was it
because you did not feel at ease [in your mind]? or was it because
your [proper] bedfellow was not by your side?” The duke gave no
answer, and then Seun Seih came forward and said, “Was it because Yu
and Kwoh were appearing to you?” The duke motioned to him to come
[more] forward, and then went with him into an inner apartment to
take counsel. “I wish,” said he, “to attack Kwoh, but Yu will go
to its relief, and if I attack Yu Kwoh will succor it; what is to
be done? I wish to consider the case with you.” Seun Seih replied,
“If you will use my counsel, you shall take Kwoh to-day and Yu
to-morrow; why should your lordship be troubled?” “How is this to
be accomplished?” asked the duke. “Please let [me go to] Yu,” said
the other, “with your team of Kiuh horses and your white _peih_ of
Chui-keih, and you are sure to get [what you want]. It will only be
taking your valuable [_peih_] from your inner treasury and depositing
it in an outer one; your lordship will lose nothing by it.” The duke
said, “Yes; but Kung Che-kí is there. What are we to do with him?”
Seun Seih replied, “Kung Che-kí is indeed knowing; but the Duke of Yu
is covetous, and fond of valuable curios; he is sure not to follow
his minister’s advice. I beg you, considering everything, to let me
go.” ... etc., etc.
The following, as a brief sample of the Kuh Liang commentary, takes
up the narrative where we have broken off. There is so much that is
similar in these two latter exegeses as to lead to the belief that they
were composed with reference to each other.
On this Duke Hien sought [in the way proposed] for a passage [through
Yu] to invade Kwoh. Kung Che-kí remonstrated, saying, “The words of
the envoy of Tsin are humble, but his offerings are great; the matter
is sure not to be advantageous to Yu.” The Duke of Yu, however, would
not listen to him, but received the offerings and granted the passage
through the State. Kung Che-kí remonstrated [again], suggesting
that the case was like that in the saying about the lips being gone
and the teeth becoming cold; after which he fled with his wife and
children to Tsao.
Duke Hien then destroyed Kwoh, and in the fifth year [of our Duke
Hí] he dealt in the same way with Yu. Seun Seih then had the horses
led forward, while he carried the _peih_ in his hand, and said:
“The _peih_ is just as it was, but the horses’ teeth are grown
longer!”[319]
Meagre as are the items of the text, they show, together with its
copious commentaries, the methodical care of the early Chinese in
preserving their ancient records. The hints which these and other books
give of their intellectual activity during the eight centuries before
Christ, naturally compel a higher estimate of their culture than we
have hitherto allowed them.[320]
* * * * *
The sixth section of the Catalogue has already been noticed as
comprising the literature of the _Hiao King_.
The seventh section contains a list of works written to elucidate the
Five Classics as a whole, and if their character for originality of
thought, variety of research, extent of illustration, and explanation
of obscurities was comparable to their size and numbers, no books in
any language could boast of the aids possessed by the _Wu King_ for
their right comprehension. Of these commentators, Chu Hí of Kiangsí,
who lived during the Sung dynasty, has so greatly exceeded all others
in illustrating and expounding them, that his explanations are now
considered of almost equal authority with the text, and are always
given to the beginner to assist him in ascertaining its true meaning.
The eighth section of the Catalogue comprises memoirs and comments upon
the _Sz’ Shu_, or ‘Four Books,’ which have been nearly as influential
in forming Chinese mind as the _Wu King_. They are by different
authors, and since their publication have perhaps undergone a few
alterations and interpolations, but the changes either in these or the
Five Classics cannot be very numerous or great, since the large body
of disciples who followed Confucius, and had copies of his writings,
would carefully preserve uncorrupt those which he edited, and hand
down unimpaired those which contained his sayings. None of the Four
Books were actually written by Confucius himself, but three of them
are considered to be a digest of his sentiments; they were arranged in
their present form by the brothers Ching, who flourished about eight
centuries ago.
~THE GREAT LEARNING AND JUST MEDIUM.~
The first of the Four Books is the _Ta Hioh_, _i.e._, ‘Superior’ or
‘Great Learning,’ which originally formed one chapter of the _Book of
Rites_. It is now divided into eleven chapters, only the first of which
is ascribed to the sage, the remainder forming the comment upon them;
the whole does not contain two thousand words. The argument of the _Ta
Hioh_ is briefly summed up in four heads, “the improvement of one’s
self, the regulation of a family, the government of a state, and the
rule of an empire.” In the first chapter this idea is thus developed in
a circle peculiarly Chinese:
The ancients, who wished to illustrate renovating virtue throughout
the Empire, first ordered well their own states. Wishing to order
well their states, they first regulated their families. Wishing
to regulate their families, they first cultivated their persons.
Wishing to cultivate their persons, they first rectified their
hearts. Wishing to rectify their hearts, they first sought to be
sincere in their thoughts. Wishing to be sincere in their thoughts,
they first extended their knowledge to the utmost. Such extension
of knowledge lay in the investigation of things. Things being
investigated, knowledge became complete: knowledge being complete,
their thoughts were sincere: their thoughts being sincere, their
hearts were then rectified: their hearts being rectified, their
persons were cultivated: their persons being cultivated, their
families were regulated: families being regulated, states were
rightly governed; and states being rightly governed, the Empire was
made tranquil.
From the Son of Heaven to the man of the people, all must consider
the cultivation of the person to be the foundation.
The subsequent chapters mainly consist of the terse sayings of ancient
kings and authors gathered and arranged by Tsăng and afterward by Chu
Hí, designed to illustrate and enforce the teachings of Confucius
contained in the first. One quotation only can be given from Chapter X.
In the Declaration of [the Duke of] Tsin, it is said: “Let me
have but one minister plain and sincere, not pretending to other
abilities, but with a simple upright mind; and possessed of
generosity, regarding the talents of others as though he possessed
them himself, and where he finds accomplished and perspicacious men,
loving them in his heart more than his mouth expresses, and really
showing himself able to avail himself of them; such a minister will
be able to preserve my descendants and the Black-haired people, and
benefits to the kingdom might well be looked for. But if it be, when
he finds men of ability, he is jealous and hateful to them; and
when he meets accomplished and perspicacious men, he opposes them
and will not allow their advancement, showing that he is really not
able to avail himself of them; such a minister will not be able to
protect my descendants and the Black-haired people. May he not even
be pronounced dangerous?”
It will be willingly allowed, when reading these extracts, that,
destitute as they were of the high sanctions and animating hopes and
promises of the Word of God, these Chinese moralists began at the
right place in their endeavors to reform and benefit their countrymen,
and that they did not fully succeed was owing to causes beyond their
reforming power.
The second of the Four Books is called _Chung Yung_, or the ‘Just
Medium,’ and is, in some respects, the most elaborate treatise in the
series. It was composed by Kung Kih, the grandson of Confucius (better
known by his style TSZ’-SZ’), about ninety years after the sage’s
death. It once also formed part of the _Lí Kí_, from which it, as
well as the _Ta Hioh_, were taken out by Chu Hí to make two of the
_Sz’ Shu_. It has thirty-three chapters, and has been the subject of
numerous comments. The great purpose of the author is to illustrate the
nature of human virtue, and to exhibit its conduct in the actions of
an ideal _kiun tsz’_, or ‘princely man’ of immaculate propriety, who
always demeans himself correctly, without going to extremes. He carries
out the advice of Hesiod:
“Let every action prove a mean confess’d;
A moderation is, in all, the best.”
True virtue consists in never going to extremes, though it does not
appear that by this the sage meant to repress active benevolence on
the one hand, or encourage selfish stolidity on the other. _Ching_, or
uprightness, is said to be the basis of all things; and _ho_, harmony,
the all-pervading principle of the universe; “extend uprightness and
harmony to the utmost, and heaven and earth will be at rest, and all
things be produced and nourished according to their nature.” The
general character of the work is monotonous, but relieved with some
animated passages, among which the description of the _kiun tsz’_, or
princely man, is one. “The princely man, in dealing with others, does
not descend to anything low or improper. How unbending his valor! He
stands in the middle, and leans not to either side. The princely man
enters into no situation where he is not himself. If he holds a high
situation, he does not treat with contempt those below him; if he
occupies an inferior station, he uses no mean arts to gain the favor
of his superiors. He corrects himself and blames not others; he feels
no dissatisfaction. On the one hand, he murmurs not at Heaven; nor, on
the other, does he feel resentment toward man. Hence, the superior man
dwells at ease, entirely waiting the will of Heaven.”[321]
~THE SAGE, OR PRINCELY MAN.~
Chinese moralists divide mankind into three classes, on these
principles: “Men of the highest order, as sages, worthies,
philanthropists, and heroes, are good without instruction; men of
the middling classes are so after instruction, such as husbandmen,
physicians, astrologers, soldiers, etc., while those of the lowest are
bad in spite of instruction, as play-actors, pettifoggers, slaves,
swindlers, etc.” The first are _shing_, or sages; the second are
_hien_, or worthies; the last are _yu_, or worthless. Sir John Davis
notices the similarity of this triplicate classification with that of
Hesiod. The _Just Medium_ thus describes the first character:
It is only the sage who is possessed of that clear discrimination
and profound intelligence which fit him for filling a high station;
who possesses that enlarged liberality and mild benignity which
fit him for bearing with others; who manifests that firmness and
magnanimity that enable him to hold fast good principles; who is
actuated by that benevolence, justice, propriety, and knowledge which
command reverence; and who is so deeply learned in polite learning
and good principles as to qualify him rightly to discriminate. Vast
and extensive are the effects of his virtue; it is like the deep
and living stream which flows unceasingly; it is substantial and
extensive as Heaven, and profound as the great abyss. Wherever ships
sail or chariots run; wherever the heavens overshadow and the earth
sustains; wherever the sun and moon shine, or frosts and dews fall,
among all who have blood and breath, there is not one who does not
honor and love him.[322]
Sincerity or conscientiousness holds a high place among the attributes
of the superior or princely man; but in translating the Chinese terms
into English, it is sometimes puzzling enough to find those which
will exhibit the exact idea of the original. For instance, sincerity
is described as “the origin or consummation of all things; without
it, there would be nothing. It is benevolence by which a man’s self
is perfected, and knowledge by which he perfects others.” In another
place we read that “one sincere wish would move heaven and earth.”
The _kiun tsz’_ is supposed to possess these qualities. The standard
of excellence is placed so high as to be absolutely unattainable by
unaided human nature; and though Kih probably intended to elevate the
character of his grandfather to this height, and thus hand him down to
future ages as a _shing jin_, or ‘perfect and holy man,’ he has, in the
providence of God, done his countrymen great service in setting before
them such a character as is here given in the _Chung Yung_. By being
made a text-book in the schools it has been constantly studied and
memorized by generations of students, to their great benefit.
~THE ANALECTS OF CONFUCIUS.~
The third of the Four Books, called the _Lun Yu_, or ‘Analects of
Confucius,’ is divided into twenty chapters, in which the collective
body of his disciples recorded his words and actions, much in the
same way that Boswell did those of Johnson. It has not, however, the
merit of chronological arrangement, and parts of it are so sententious
as to be obscure, if not almost unintelligible. This work discloses
the sage’s shrewd insight into the character of his countrymen, and
knowledge of the manner in which they could best be approached and
influenced. Upon the commencement of his career as reformer and
teacher, he contented himself with reviving the doctrines of the
“Ancients;” but finding his influence increasing as he continued these
instructions, he then--yet always as under their authority--engrafted
original ideas and tenets upon the minds of his generation. Had even
his loftiest sentiments been propounded as his own, they would hardly
have been received in his day, and, perhaps, through the contempt felt
for him by his contemporaries, have been lost entirely.
Among the most remarkable passages of the Four Books are the following:
Replying to the question of Tsz’-kung, “Is there one word which may
serve as a rule of practice for all of one’s life?” Confucius said:
“Is not _shu_ (‘reciprocity’) such a word? What you do not want done
to yourself, do not do to others.” In a previous place Tsz’-kung had
said: “What I do not wish men to do to me, I also wish not to do to
men.” Confucius replied: “Tsz’, you have not attained to that.” The
same principle is repeated in the _Chung Yung_, where it is said that
the man who does so is not far from the path. Another is quoted in the
Imperial Dictionary, under the word _Fuh_: “The people of the west
have sages,” or “There is a sage (or holy man) among the people of the
west,” where the object is to show that he did not mean Buddha. As
Confucius was contemporary with Ezra, it is not impossible that he had
heard something of the history of the Israelites scattered throughout
the one hundred and twenty-seven provinces of the Persian monarchy,
or of the writings of their prophets, though there is not the least
historical evidence that he knew anything of the countries in Western
Asia, or of the books extant in their languages.
Some idea of the character of the _Lun Yu_ may be gathered from a few
detached sentences, selected from Marshman’s translation.[323]
Grieve not that men know you not, but be grieved that you are
ignorant of men.
Governing with equity resembles the north star, which is fixed, and
all the stars surround it.
Have no friends unlike yourself.
Learning without reflection will profit nothing; reflection without
learning will leave the mind uneasy and miserable.
Knowledge produces pleasure clear as water; complete virtue brings
happiness solid as a mountain; knowledge pervades all things; virtue
is tranquil and happy; knowledge is delight; virtue is long life.
Without virtue, both riches and honor seem to me like the passing
cloud.
The sage’s conduct is affection and benevolence in operation.
The man who possesses complete virtue wishes to fix his own mind
therein, and also to fix the minds of others; he wishes to be wise
himself, and would fain render others equally wise.
Those who, searching for virtue, refuse to stay among the virtuous,
how can they obtain knowledge?
The rich and honorable are those with whom men desire to associate;
not obtaining their company in the paths of virtue, however, do not
remain in it.
In your appearance, to fall below decency would be to resemble a
savage rustic, to exceed it would be to resemble a fop; let your
appearance be decent and moderate, then you will resemble the
honorable man.
When I first began with men, I heard words and gave credit for
conduct; now I hear words and observe conduct.
I have found no man who esteems virtue as men esteem pleasure.
The perfect man loves all men; he is not governed by private
affection or interest, but only regards the public good or right
reason. The wicked man, on the contrary, loves if you give, and likes
if you commend him.
The perfect man is never satisfied with himself. He that is satisfied
with himself is not perfect.
He that is sedulous and desires to improve in his studies is not
ashamed to stoop to ask of others.
Sin in a virtuous man is like an eclipse of the sun and moon; all men
gaze at it, and it passes away; the virtuous man mends, and the world
stands in admiration of his fall.
Patience is the most necessary thing to have in this world.
~LIFE OF CONFUCIUS.~
A few facts respecting the life, and observations on the character,
of the great sage of Chinese letters, may here be added, though the
extracts already made from his writings are sufficient to show his
style. Confucius was born B.C. 551, in the twentieth year of the
Emperor Ling (about the date at which Cyrus became king of Persia), in
the kingdom of Lu, now included in Yenchau, in the south of Shantung.
His father was a district magistrate, and dying when he was only three
years old, left his care and education to his mother, who, although
not so celebrated as the mother of Mencius, seems to have nurtured
in him a respect for morality, and directed his studies. During his
youth he was remarkable for a grave demeanor and knowledge of ancient
learning, which gained him the respect and admiration of his townsmen,
so that at the age of twenty, the year after his marriage, he was
entrusted with the duties of a subordinate office in the revenue
department, and afterward appointed a supervisor of fields and herds.
In his twenty-fourth year his mother deceased, and in conformity with
the ancient usage, which had then fallen into disuse, he immediately
resigned all his employments to mourn for her three years, during which
time he devoted himself to study. This practice has continued to the
present day.
His examination of the ancient writings led him to resolve upon
instructing his countrymen in them, and to revive the usages of former
kings, especially in whatever related to the rites. His position gave
him an entry to court in Lu, where he met educated and influential
men, and by the time he was thirty he was already in repute among them
as a teacher. His own king, Siang, gave him the means of visiting
the imperial court at Lohyang. Here, together with his disciples,
he examined everything, past and present, with close scrutiny, and
returned home with renewed regard for the ancient founders of the
House of Chau. His scholars and admirers increased in numbers, and a
corresponding extension of fame followed, so that ere long he had an
invitation to the court of the prince of Tsí, but on arrival there was
mortified to learn that curiosity had been the prevailing cause of the
invitation, and not a desire to adopt his principles. He accordingly
left him and went home, where the struggles between three rival
families carried disorder and misery throughout the kingdom; it was
with the greatest difficulty that he remained neutral between these
factions. His disciples were from all parts of the land, and public
opinion began to be influenced by his example. At length an opportunity
offered to put his tenets into practice. The civil strife had resulted
in the flight of the rebels, and Lu was settling down into better
government, when in B.C. 500 Confucius was made the magistrate of the
town of Chung-tu by his sovereign, Duke Ting. He was now fifty years
old, and began to carry out the best rule he could in his position
as minister of crime. For three years he administered the affairs of
State with such a mixture of zeal, prudence, severity, and regard for
the rights and wants of all classes, that Lu soon became the envy and
dread of all other States. He even succeeded in destroying two or three
baronial castles whose chiefs had set all lawful authority at defiance.
His precepts had been fairly put in practice, and, like Solomon, his
influence in after-ages was increased by the fact of acknowledged
success.
It was but little more than an experiment, however; for Duke King of
Tsí, becoming envious of the growing power of his neighbor, sent Ting a
tempting present, consisting of thirty horses beautifully caparisoned,
and a number of curious rarities, with a score of the most accomplished
courtesans he could procure in his territories. This scheme of gaining
the favor of the youthful monarch, and driving the obnoxious cynic from
his councils, succeeded, and Confucius soon after retired by compulsion
into private life. He moved into the dominions of the prince of Wei,
accompanied by such of his disciples as chose to follow him, where he
employed himself in extending his doctrines and travelling into the
adjoining States.
He was at times applauded and patronized, but quite as often the
object of persecution and contumely; more than once his life was
endangered. He compared himself to a dog driven from his home: “I have
the fidelity of that animal, and I am treated like it. But what matters
the ingratitude of men? They cannot hinder me from doing all the good
that has been appointed me. If my precepts are disregarded, I have
the consolation of knowing in my own breast that I have faithfully
performed my duty.” He sometimes spoke in a manner that showed his
own impression to be that heaven had conferred on him a special
commission to instruct the world. On one or two occasions, when he was
in jeopardy, he said: “If Heaven means not to obliterate this doctrine
from the earth, the men of Kwang can do nothing to me.” And “as Heaven
has produced whatever virtue is in me, what can Hwan Tui do to me?”
In his instructions he improved passing events to afford useful
lessons, and some of those recorded are at least ingenious. Observing
a fowler one day sorting his birds into different cages, he said, “I
do not see any old birds here; where have you put them?” “The old
birds,” replied the fowler, “are too wary to be caught; they are on the
lookout, and if they see a net or cage, far from falling into the snare
they escape and never return. Those young ones which are in company
with them likewise escape, but only such as separate into a flock by
themselves and rashly approach are the birds I take. If perchance I
catch an old bird it is because he follows the young ones.” “You have
heard him,” observed the sage, turning to his disciples; “the words of
this fowler afford us matter for instruction. The young birds escape
the snare only when they keep with the old ones, the old ones are taken
when they follow the young; it is thus with mankind. Presumption,
hardihood, want of forethought, and inattention are the principal
reasons why young people are led astray. Inflated with their small
attainments they have scarcely made a commencement in learning before
they think they know everything; they have scarcely performed a few
common virtuous acts, and straight they fancy themselves at the height
of wisdom. Under this false impression they doubt nothing, hesitate at
nothing, pay attention to nothing; they rashly undertake acts without
consulting the aged and experienced, and thus securely following their
own notions, they are misled and fall into the first snare laid for
them. If you see an old man of sober years so badly advised as to be
taken with the sprightliness of a youth, attached to him, and thinking
and acting with him, he is led astray by him and soon taken in the same
snare. Do not forget the answer of the fowler.”
Once, when looking at a stream, he compared its ceaseless current to
the transmission of good doctrine through succeeding generations, and
as one race had received it they should hand it down to others. “Do
not imitate those isolated men [the Rationalists] who are wise only
for themselves; to communicate the modicum of knowledge and virtue we
possess to others will never impoverish ourselves.” He seems to have
entertained only faint hopes of the general reception of his doctrine,
though toward the latter end of his life he had as much encouragement
in the respect paid him personally and the increase of his scholars as
he could reasonably have wished.
Confucius returned to his native country at the age of sixty-eight,
and devoted his time to completing his edition of the classics and
in teaching his now large band of disciples. He was consulted by his
sovereign, who had invited him to return, and one of his last acts
was to go to court to urge an attack on Tsí and punish the murder
of its duke. Many legends have gathered around him, so that he now
stands before his countrymen as a sage and a demigod; yet there is a
remarkable absence of the prophetic and the miraculous in every event
connected with these later writings. One story is that when he had
finished his writings he collected his friends around him and made a
solemn dedication of his literary labors to heaven as the concluding
act of his life. “He assembled all his disciples and led them out of
the town to one of the hills where sacrifices had usually been offered
for many years. Here he erected a table or altar, upon which he placed
the books; and then turning his face to the north, adored Heaven, and
returned thanks upon his knees in a humble manner for having had life
and strength granted him to enable him to accomplish this laborious
undertaking; he implored Heaven to grant that the benefit to his
countrymen from so arduous a labor might not be small. He had prepared
himself for this ceremony by privacy, fasting, and prayer. Chinese
pictures represent the sage in the attitude of supplication, and a beam
of light or a rainbow descending from the sky upon the books, while
his scholars stand around in admiring wonder.”[324]
A few days before his death he tottered about the house, sighing,
_Tai shan, kí tui hu!--Liang muh, kí hwai hu!--Chí jin, kí wei hu!_
The great mountain is broken!
The strong beam is thrown down!
The wise man withers like a plant!
He died soon after, B.C. 478, aged seventy-three, leaving a single
descendant, his grandson Tsz’-sz, through whom the succession has
been transmitted to the present day. During his life the return of
the Jews from Babylon, the invasion of Greece by Xerxes, and conquest
of Egypt by the Persians took place. Posthumous honors in great
variety, amounting to idolatrous worship, have been conferred upon
him. His title is the ‘Most Holy Ancient Teacher’ Kung tsz’, and the
‘Holy Duke.’ In the reign of Kanghí, two thousand one hundred and
fifty years after his death, there were eleven thousand males alive
bearing his name, and most of them of the seventy-fourth generation,
being undoubtedly one of the oldest families in the world. In the
_Sacrificial Ritual_ a short account of his life is given, which closes
with the following pæan:
Confucius! Confucius! How great is Confucius!
Before Confucius there never was a Confucius!
Since Confucius there never has been a Confucius!
Confucius! Confucius! How great is Confucius!
~CHARACTER OF THE CONFUCIAN SYSTEM.~
The leading features of the philosophy of Confucius are subordination
to superiors and kind, upright dealing with our fellow-men; destitute
of all reference to an unseen Power to whom all men are accountable,
they look only to this world for their sanctions, and make the monarch
himself only partially amenable to a higher tribunal. It would
indeed be hard to over-estimate the influence of Confucius in his
ideal _princely scholar_, and the power for good over his race this
conception ever since has exerted. It might be compared to the glorious
work of the sculptor on the Acropolis of Athens--that matchless statue
more than seventy feet in height, whose casque and spear of burnished
brass glittered above all the temples and high places of the city, and
engaged the constant gaze of the mariner on the near Ægean; guiding
his onward course, it was still ever beyond his reach. Like the Athena
Promachos to the ancient Attic voyager, so stands the _kiun-tsz’_ of
Confucius among the ideal men of pagan moralists. The immeasurable
influence in after-ages of the character thus portrayed proves how
lofty was his own standard, and the national conscience has ever since
assented to the justice of the portrait.
From the duty, honor, and obedience owed by a child to his parents,
he proceeds to inculcate the obligations of wives to their husbands,
subjects to their prince, and ministers to their king, together
with all the obligations arising from the various social relations.
Political morality must be founded on private rectitude, and the
beginning of all real advance was, in his opinion, comprised in _nosce
teipsum_. It cannot be denied that among much that is commendable
there are a few exceptionable dogmas among his tenets, and Dr.
Legge, as has already been seen, reflects severely on his disregard
of truth in the _Chun Tsiu_ and in his lifetime. Yet compared with
the precepts of Grecian and Roman sages, the general tendency of his
writings is good, while in adaptation to the society in which he
lived, and their eminently practical character, they exceed those of
western philosophers. He did not deal much in sublime and unattainable
descriptions of virtue, but rather taught how the common intercourse
of life was to be maintained--how children should conduct themselves
toward their parents, when a man should enter on office, when to marry,
etc., etc., which, although they may seem somewhat trifling to us,
were probably well calculated for the times and people among whom he
lived.[325]
Had Confucius transmitted to posterity such works as the Iliad, the De
Officiis, or the Dialogues of Plato, he would no doubt have taken a
higher rank among the commanding intellects of the world, but it may
be well doubted whether his influence among his own countrymen would
have been as good or as lasting. The variety and minuteness of his
instructions for the nurture and education of children, the stress he
lays upon filial duty, the detail of etiquette and conduct he gives
for the intercourse of all classes and ranks in society, characterize
his writings from those of all philosophers in other countries, who,
comparatively speaking, gave small thought to the education of the
young. The Four Books and the Five Classics would not, so far as
regards their intrinsic character in comparison with other productions,
be considered as anything more than curiosities in literature for their
antiquity and language, were it not for the incomparable influence they
have exerted over so many millions of minds; in this view they are
invested with an interest which no book, besides the Bible, can claim.
The source and explanation of this influence is to be found in their
use as text-books in the schools and competitive examinations, and well
would it be for Christian lands if their youth had the same knowledge
of the writings of Solomon and the Evangelists. Their freedom from
descriptions of impurity and licentiousness, and allusions to whatever
debases and vitiates the heart, is a redeeming quality of the Chinese
classics which should not be overlooked. Chinese literature contains
enough, indeed, to pollute even the mind of a heathen, but its scum has
become the sediment; and little or nothing can be found in the writings
that are most highly prized which will not bear perusal by any person
in any country. Every one acquainted with the writings of Hindu, Greek,
and Roman poets knows the glowing descriptions of the amours of gods
and goddesses which fill their pages, and the purity of the Chinese
canonical books in this respect must be considered as remarkable.
[Illustration: Worship of Confucius and his Disciples.]
~WORSHIP OF CONFUCIUS.~
For the most part the Chinese, in worshipping Confucius, content
themselves with erecting a simple tablet in his honor; to carve images
for the cult of the sage is uncommon. The incident represented in
the adjoining wood-cut illustrates, however, an exception to the
prevailing severity of this worship. A certain Wei Kí, a scholar living
in the Tang dynasty (A.D. 657), not content, it is said, with giving
instruction in the classics, set up the life-size statues of Confucius
and his seventy-two disciples in order to incite the enthusiasm of his
own pupils. Into this sanctuary of the divinities of learning were wont
to come the _savant_ Wei and his scholars--among whom were numbered
both his grandfather and several of his grandchildren--to prostrate
themselves before the ancient worthies. “But of his descendants,”
concludes the chronicler, “there were many who arose to positions of
eminence in the State.”
The last of the Four Books is nearly as large as the other three
united, and consists entirely of the writings of Mencius, Măng tsz’, or
Măng fu-tsz’, as he is called by the Chinese.[326] This sage flourished
upward of a century after the death of his master, and although, in
estimating his character, it must not be forgotten that he had the
advantages of his example and stimulus of his fame and teachings, in
most respects he displayed an originality of thought, inflexibility
of purpose, and extensive views superior to Confucius, and must be
regarded as one of the greatest men Asiatic nations have ever produced.
~LIFE OF MENCIUS.~
Mencius was born B.C. 371,[327] in the city of Tsau, now in the
province of Shantung, not far from his master’s native district. He
was twenty-three years old when Plato died, and many other great men
of Greece were his contemporaries. His father died early, and left
the guardianship of the boy to his widow, Changshí. “The care of this
prudent and attentive mother,” to quote from Rémusat, “has been cited
as a model for all virtuous parents. The house she occupied was near
that of a butcher; she observed that at the first cry of the animals
that were being slaughtered the little Măng ran to be present at the
sight, and that on his return he sought to imitate what he had seen.
Fearful that his heart might become hardened, and be accustomed to
the sight of blood, she removed to another house which was in the
neighborhood of a cemetery. The relations of those who were buried
there came often to weep upon their graves and make the customary
libations; the lad soon took pleasure in their ceremonies, and amused
himself in imitating them. This was a new subject of uneasiness to
Changshí; she feared her son might come to consider as a jest what is
of all things the most serious, and that he would acquire a habit of
performing with levity, and as a matter of routine merely, ceremonies
which demand the most exact attention and respect. Again, therefore,
she anxiously changed her dwelling, and went to live in the city,
opposite to a school, where her son found examples the most worthy of
imitation, and soon began to profit by them. I should not have spoken
of this trifling anecdote but for the allusion which the Chinese
constantly make to it in the common proverb, ‘Formerly the mother of
Mencius chose out a neighborhood.’” On another occasion her son, seeing
persons slaughtering pigs, asked her why they did it. “To feed you,”
she replied; but reflecting that this was teaching her son to lightly
regard the truth, went and bought some pork and gave him.
Mencius devoted himself early to the classics, and probably attended
the instructions of noted teachers of the school of Confucius and
his grandson Kih. After his studies were completed, at the age of
forty, he came forth as a public teacher, and offered his services
to the feudal princes of the country. Among others, he was received
by Hwui, king of Wei, but, though much respected by this ruler, his
instructions were not regarded; and he soon perceived that among the
numerous petty rulers and intriguing statesmen of the day there was no
prospect of restoring tranquillity to the Empire, and that discourses
upon the mild government and peaceful virtues of Yao and Shun, King
Wăn and Chingtang, offered little to interest persons whose minds were
engrossed with schemes of conquest or pleasure. He thereupon accepted
an invitation to go to Tsí, the adjoining State, and spent most of
his public life there; the records show that he was often called on
for his advice by statesmen of many governments. As he went from one
State to another his influence extended as his experience showed him
the difficulties of good government amidst the general disregard of
justice, mercy, and frugality. His own unyielding character and stern
regard for etiquette and probity chilled the loose, unscrupulous men
of those lawless times. At length he retired to his home to spend the
last twenty years of his life in the society of his disciples, there
completing the work which bears his name and has made him such a
power among his countrymen. He has always been an incentive and guide
to popular efforts to assert the rights of the subject against the
injustice of rulers, and an encourager to rulers who have governed with
justice. His assertion of the proper duties and prerogatives belonging
to both parties in the State was prior to that of any western writer;
some of his principles of liberal government were taught before their
enunciation in Holy Writ. He died when eighty-four years old (B.C.
288), shortly before the death of Ptolemy Soter at the same age.
~PERSONAL CHARACTER OF HIS TEACHINGS.~
After his demise Mencius was honored, by public act, with the title of
‘Holy Prince of the country of Tsau,’ and in the temple of the sages he
receives the same honors as Confucius; his descendants bear the title
of ‘Masters of the Traditions concerning the Classics,’ and he himself
is called _A-shing_, or the ‘Secondary Sage,’ Confucius being regarded
as the first. His writings are in the form of dialogues held with
the great personages of his time, and abound with irony and ridicule
directed against vice and oppression, which only make his praises
of virtue and integrity more weighty. After the manner of Socrates,
he contests nothing with his adversaries, but, while granting their
premises, he seeks to draw from them consequences the most absurd,
which cover his opponents with confusion.
The king of Wei, one of the turbulent princes of the time, was
complaining to Mencius how ill he succeeded in his endeavors to make
his people happy and his kingdom flourishing. “Prince,” said the
philosopher, “you love war; permit me to draw a comparison from thence:
two armies are in presence; the charge is sounded, the battle begins,
one of the parties is conquered; half its soldiers have fled a hundred
paces, the other half has stopped at fifty. Will the last have any
right to mock at those who have fled further than themselves?”
“No,” said the king; “they have equally taken flight, and the same
disgrace must attend them both.”
“Prince,” says Mencius quickly, “cease then to boast of your efforts
as greater than your neighbors’. You have all deserved the same
reproach, and not one has a right to take credit to himself over
another.” Pursuing then his bitter interrogations, he asked, “Is there
a difference, O king! between killing a man with a club or with a
sword?” “No,” said the prince. “Between him who kills with the sword,
or destroys by an inhuman tyranny?” “No,” again replied the prince.
“Well,” said Mencius, “your kitchens are encumbered with food,
your sheds are full of horses, while your subjects, with emaciated
countenances, are worn down with misery, or found dead of hunger in the
middle of the fields or the deserts. What is this but to breed animals
to prey on men? And what is the difference between destroying them by
the sword or by unfeeling conduct? If we detest those savage animals
which mutually tear and devour each other, how much more should we
abhor a prince who, instead of being a father to his people, does not
hesitate to rear animals to destroy them. What kind of father to his
people is he who treats his children so unfeelingly, and has less care
of them than of the wild beasts he provides for?”
On one occasion, addressing the prince of Tsí, Mencius remarked: “It
is not the ancient forests of a country which do it honor, but its
families devoted for many generations to the duties of the magistracy.
Oh, king! in all your service there are none such; those whom you
yesterday raised to honor, what are they to-day?”
“In what way,” replied the king, “can I know beforehand that they are
without virtue, and remove them?”
“In raising a sage to the highest dignities of the State,” replied the
philosopher, “a king acts only as he is of necessity bound to do. But
to put a man of obscure condition over the nobles of his kingdom, or
one of his remote kindred over princes more nearly connected with him,
demands most careful deliberation. Do his courtiers unite in speaking
of a man as wise, let him distrust them. If all the magistrates of
his kingdom concur in the same assurance, let him not rest satisfied
with their testimony, but if his subjects confirm the story, then let
him convince himself; and if he finds that the individual is indeed
a sage, let him raise him to office and honor. So, also, if all his
courtiers would oppose his placing confidence in a minister, let him
not give heed to them; and if all the magistrates are of this opinion,
let him be deaf to their solicitations; but if the people unite in
the same request, then let him examine the object of their ill-will,
and, if guilty, remove him. In short, if all the courtiers think that
a minister should suffer death, the prince must not content himself
with their opinion merely. If all the high officers entertain the
same sentiment, still he must not yield to their convictions; but if
the people declare that such a man is unfit to live, then the prince,
inquiring himself and being satisfied that the charge is true, must
condemn the guilty to death; in such a case, we may say that the people
are his judges. In acting thus a prince becomes the parent of his
subjects.”
The will of the people is always referred to as the supreme power in
the State, and Mencius warns princes that they must both please and
benefit their people, observing that “if the country is not subdued
in heart there will be no such thing as governing it;” and also, “He
who gains the hearts of the people secures the throne, and he who
loses the people’s hearts loses the throne.” A prince should “give
and take what is pleasing to them, and not do that which they hate.”
“Good laws,” he further remarks, “are not equal to winning the people
by good instruction.” Being consulted by a sovereign, whether he ought
to attempt the conquest of a neighboring territory, he answered: “If
the people of Yen are delighted, then take it; but if otherwise, not.”
He also countenances the dethroning of a king who does not rule his
people with a regard to their happiness, and adduces the example of
the founders of the Shang and Chau dynasties in proof of its propriety.
“When the prince is guilty of great errors,” is his doctrine, “the
minister should reprove him; if, after doing so again and again, he
does not listen, he ought to dethrone him and put another in his place.”
~HIS ESTIMATE OF HUMAN NATURE.~
His estimate of human nature, like many of the Chinese sages, is high,
believing it to be originally good, and that “all men are naturally
virtuous, as all water flows downward. All men have compassionate
hearts, all feel ashamed of vice.” But he says also, “Shame is of
great moment to men; it is only the designing and artful that find no
use for shame.” Yet human nature must be tried by suffering, and to
form an energetic and virtuous character a man must endure much; “when
Heaven was about to place Shun and others in important trusts, it first
generally tried their minds, inured them to abstinence, exposed them
to poverty and adversity; thus it moved their hearts and taught them
patience.” His own character presents traits widely differing from the
servility and baseness usually ascribed to Asiatics, and especially to
the Chinese; and he seems to have been ready to sacrifice everything to
his principles. “I love life, and I love justice,” he observes, “but
if I cannot preserve both, I would give up life and hold fast justice.
Although I love life, there is that which I love more than life;
although I hate death, there is that which I hate more than death.” And
as if referring to his own integrity, he elsewhere says: “The nature
of the superior man is such that, although in a high and prosperous
situation, it adds nothing to his virtue; and although in low and
distressed circumstances, it impairs it in nothing.” In many points,
especially in the importance he gives to filial duty, his reverence for
the ancient books and princes, and his adherence to old usages, Mencius
imitated and upheld Confucius; in native vigor and carelessness of the
reproaches of his compatriots he exceeded him. Many translations of his
work have appeared in European languages, but Legge’s[328] is in most
respects the best for its comments, and the notices of Mencius’ life
and times, and a fair estimate of his character and influence.
Returning to the Imperial Catalogue, its ninth section contains a list
of musical works, and a few on dancing or posture-making; they hold
this distinguished place in the list from the importance attached to
music as employed in the State worship and domestic ceremonies.
The tenth section gives the names of philological treatises and
lexicons, most of them confined to the Chinese language, though a few
are in Manchu. The Chinese government has excelled in the attention it
has given to the compilation of lexicons and encyclopædias. The number
of works of this sort here catalogued is two hundred and eighteen,
the major part issued during this dynasty, and including only works
on the general language, none on the dialects. For their extent of
quotation, the variety of separate disquisitions upon the form, origin,
and composition of characters, and treatises upon subjects connected
with the language, they indicate the careful labor native scholars have
bestowed upon the elucidation of their own tongue.
~KANGHÍ’S DICTIONARY.~
One of them, the _Pei Wăn Yun Fu_, or ‘Treasury of compared Characters
and Sounds,’ is so extensive and profound as to deserve a short notice,
which cannot be better made than by an extract from the preface of
M. Callery to his prospectus to its translation, of which he only
issued one livraison. He says the Emperor Kanghí, who planned its
preparation, “assembled in his palace the most distinguished literati
of the Empire, and laying before them all the works that could be got,
whether ancient or modern, commanded them carefully to collect all the
words, allusions, forms and figures of speech of every style, of which
examples might be found in the Chinese language; to class the principal
articles according to the pronunciation of the words; to devote a
distinct paragraph to each expression; and to give in support of every
paragraph several quotations from the original works. Stimulated by the
munificence, as well as the example, of the Emperor, who reviewed the
performances of every day, seventy-six literati assembled at Peking,
labored with such assiduity, and kept up such an active correspondence
with the learned in all parts of the Empire, that at the end of eight
years the work was completed (1711), and printed at the public expense,
in one hundred and thirty thick volumes.” The peculiar nature of the
Chinese language, in the formation of many dissyllabic compounds of
two or more characters to express a third and new idea, renders such
a work as this thesaurus more necessary and useful, perhaps, than it
would be in any other language. Under some of the common characters as
many as three hundred, four hundred, and even six hundred combinations
are noticed, all of which modify its sense more or less, and form a
complete monograph of the character, of the highest utility to the
scholar in composing idiomatic Chinese. This magnificent monument of
literary labor reflects great credit on the monarch who took so much
interest in its compilation (as he remarks in his preface), as to
devote the leisure hours of every day, notwithstanding his manifold
occupations, for eight years, to overlooking the labors of the scholars
engaged upon it.
FOOTNOTES:
[302] _The Sacred Books of China. The Texts of Confucianism._
Translated by James Legge. Part II. _The Yî King._ Oxford, 1882.
[303] Some fourteen hundred and fifty treatises on the
_Yih_--consisting of memoirs, digests, expositions, etc.--are
enumerated in the Catalogue. The foreign literature upon it has
heretofore been scant. The only other translations of the classic
_in extenso_, besides Dr. Legge’s, already quoted, are the _Y-King_;
_Antiquissimus Sinarum liber quem ex latina interpretatione_; P.
Regis, _aliorumque ex Soc. Jesu P. P._, _edidit_ Julius Mohl, 2 vols.,
Stuttgart, 1834-39; and _A Translation of the Confucian Yih King, or
the Classic of Change_, by the Rev. Canon McClatchie, Shanghai, 1876
(with Chinese text). Compare further _Notice du livre chinois nommé
Y-king, avec des notes_, _par_ M. Claude Visdelou, contained in Père
Gaubil’s _Chou king_, Paris, 1843; _Die verbogenen Alterthümer der
Chineser aus dem uralten Buche Yeking untersuchet_, _von_ M. Joh.
Heinrich Schuhmacher, Wolfenbüttel, 1763; Joseph Haas, in _Notes and
Queries on China and Japan_, Vol. III., 1869; _China Review_, Vols. I.,
p. 151; IV., p. 257; and V., p. 132.
[304] Several translations have been made by missionaries. One by
P. Gaubil was edited by De Guignes in 1770; a second by Rev. W. H.
Medhurst, in 1846; but the most complete by J. Legge, D.D., in 1865,
with its notes and text, has brought this _Record_ better than ever
before to the knowledge of western scholars.
[305] Legge, _The Chinese Classics_, Vol. III. _Shoo King_, p. 59.
[306] _Chinese Repository_, Vol. VIII., p. 385; Vol. IX., p. 573.
_Le Chou-king, un des Livres Sacrés des Chinois, qui renferme les
Fondements de leur ancienne Histoire_, etc. Traduit par Feu le P.
Gaubil. Paris, 1770, in-4. _La Morale du Chou-king ou le Livre Sacré
de la Chine._ (The same), Paris, 1851. _Ancient China. The Shoo King,
or the Historical Classic: being the most ancient authentic Record of
the Annals of the Chinese Empire_, translated by W. H. Medhurst, Sen.,
Shanghae, 1846. _Nouveau Journal Asiatique_, Tomes V. (1830), p. 401;
VI., p. 401, and XIV. (1842), p. 152. _China Review_, Vol. IV., p.
13. Dr. Legge’s translation has recently (1879) appeared, without the
Chinese text, in Max Müller’s series of _Sacred Books of the East_,
Vol. III. Richthofen, _China_, Bd. I., pp. 277-365, an exhaustive
treatise on the early geography of China, with valuable historical maps.
[307] Dr. Legge, _The She King, translated into English verse_, p. 70.
London, 1876.
[308] _Ib._, p. 83.
[309] _Id._, _The She King_, p. 222.
[310] _Id._, _The She King_, p. 347.
[311] A recent German translation of these odes has combined, with
much accuracy and a smooth versification, the peculiar adaptability of
that tongue to the reproduction (in some degree) of sounds so foreign
to the language as Chinese. _Shí King. Das kanonische Liederbuch der
Chinesen._ _Uebersetzt von_ Victor von Strauss. Heidelberg, 1880.
[312] _The Chinese Classics_, Vol. IV., pp. 172-180. Hongkong, 1871.
[313] Compare _Confucii Chi-king sive Liber Carminum, ex latina_ P.
Lacharme _interpretatione edidit_ J. Mohl, Stuttgart, 1830; _Essai
sur le Chi-king, et sur l’ancienne poésie chinoise_, _par_ M. Brosset
jeune, Paris, 1828; _Bibliothèque orientale_, Vol. II., p. 247 (1872).
_Chi-king, ou Livre des Vers_, Traduction de M. G. Pauthier; _China
Review_, Vol. VI., pp. 1 ff. and 166 ff. _Journal N. C. Br. R. As.
Soc._, Vol. XII., pp. 97 ff.
[314] _Li-ki ou Mémorial des Rites_, _traduit pour la première fois du
chinois, et accompagné de notes, de commentaires et du texte original,
par_ J. M. Callery. Turin et Paris, 1853.
[315] _Le Tcheou-Li ou Rites des Tcheou_, _traduit pour la première
fois du chinois, par_ Feu Édouard Biot. 2 Tomes. Paris, 1851.
[316] _Chinese Repository_, Vol. V., pp. 306-312.
[317] This somewhat fanciful explanation of the title is from the
Han commentators. Dr. Legge (_Classics_, Vol. V., Prolegomena, p. 7)
observes that “not even in the work do we find such ‘censures’ and
‘commendations;’ and much less are they trumpeted in the title of it.”
His interpretation that Spring and Autumn are put by synechdoche for
all four seasons, _i.e._, the entire record of the year, appears to
be a more natural account. The same writer declares that “the whole
book is a collection of riddles, to which there are as many answers as
there are guessers.” The interesting chapters of his _prolegomena_ to
this translation, and his judicious criticisms on these early records,
should tempt all sinologues to read them throughout.
[318] The same writer adds, in summing up the merits of the _Tso
Chuen_: “It is, in my opinion, the most precious literary treasure
which has come down to posterity from the Chow dynasty.”--_Classics_,
Vol. V., Proleg., p. 35.
[319] To this the Kung Yang commentator adds: “This he said in joke.”
[320] Compare _Tchun Tsieou, Le Printemps & l’Automne, ou Annales de
la Principauté de Lou, depuis 722 jusqu’ en 481_, etc. _Traduites en
françois, par_ Le Roux Deshauterayes. 1750. Dr. E. Bretschneider, in
the _Chinese Recorder_, Vol. IV., pp. 51-52, 1871.
[321] Collie’s _Four Books_, pp. 6-10.
[322] _Ib._, p. 28.
[323] _The Works of Confucius; containing the original text, with a
Translation_, by J. Marshman. Vol. I. Serampore, 1807.
[324] _Chinese Repository_, Vol. XI., p. 421. Pauthier, _La Chine_,
Paris, 1839, pp. 121-184.
[325] Compare Dr. Legge’s _Religions of China_; Prof. R. K. Douglas,
_Confucianism and Taouism_, London, 1879; S. Johnson, _Oriental
Religions: China_, Boston, 1877; _A Systematical Digest of the
Doctrines of Confucius, according to the Analects, Great Learning,
and Doctrine of the Mean_, etc., by Ernst Faber. Translated from the
German by Möllendorff, Hongkong, 1875; _Histoire de Confucius_, par J.
Sénamaud, Bordeaux et Paris, 1878.
[326] It may here be remarked that the terms _tsz’_ or _fu-tsz’_ do not
properly form a part of the name, but are titles, meaning _rabbi_ or
_eminent teacher_, and are added to the surnames of some of the most
distinguished writers, by way of peculiar distinction; and in the words
Mencius and Confucius have been Latinized with Măng and Kung, names of
the persons themselves, into one word. The names of other distinguished
scholars, as Chu fu-tsz’, Ching fu-tsz’, etc., have not undergone this
change into Chufucius, Chingfucius; but usage has now brought the
compellation for these two men into universal use as a distinctive
title, somewhat like the term _venerable_ applied to Bede.
[327] Rémusat, _Nouveaux Mélanges_, Tome II., pp. 115-129.
[328] _Chinese Classics_, Vol II. Hongkong, 1862.
CHAPTER XII.
POLITE LITERATURE OF THE CHINESE.
The three remaining divisions of the Imperial Catalogue comprise lists
of Historical, Professional, and Poetical works. The estimate made of
their value will depend somewhat on the peculiar line of research of
the student, and to give him the means of doing this would require
copious extracts from poetical, religious, topographical or moral
writings. Those who have studied them the longest, as Rémusat, Julien,
Staunton, Pauthier, the two Morrisons, Legge, etc., speak of them
with the most respect, whether it arose from a higher appreciation of
their worth as they learned more, or that the zealousness of their
studies imparted a tinge of enthusiasm to their descriptions. A
writer in the _Quarterly Review_ gives good reasons for placing the
polite literature of the Chinese first for the insight it is likely
to give Europeans into their habits of thought. “The Chinese stand
eminently distinguished from other Asiatics by their early possession
and extensive use of the important art of printing--of printing, too,
in that particular shape, the stereotype, which is best calculated,
by multiplying the copies and cheapening the price, to promote the
circulation of every species of their literature. Hence they are, as
might be expected, a reading people; a certain degree of education
is common among even the lower classes, and among the higher it is
superfluous to insist on the great estimation in which letters must
be held under a system where learning forms the very threshold of the
gate that conducts to fame, honors, and civil employment. Amid the
vast mass of printed books which is the natural offspring of such a
state of things, we make no scruple to avow that the circle of their
_belles-lettres_, comprised under the heads of drama, poetry, and
novels, has always possessed the highest place in our esteem; and
we must say that there appears no readier or more agreeable mode of
becoming intimately acquainted with a people from whom Europe can have
so little to learn on the score of either moral or physical science
than by drawing largely on the inexhaustible stores of their ornamental
literature.”
~CHINESE WORKS ON HISTORY.~
The second division in the Catalogue, _Sz’ Pu_, or ‘Historical
Writings,’ is subdivided into fifteen sections. These writings are
very extensive; even their mere list conveys a high idea of the vast
amount of labor expended upon them; and it is impossible to withhold
respect, at least, to the industry displayed in compilations like
the _Seventeen Histories_, in two hundred and seventeen volumes, and
its continuation, the _Twenty-two Histories_, a still larger work.
Though the entertaining episodes and sketches of character found in
Herodotus and other ancient European historians are wanting, there is
plenty of incident in court, camp, and social life, as well as public
acts and royal biography. The dynastic records became the duty of
special officers, and the headings adopted from the Sui, A.D. 590,
have since been followed in arranging the historic materials under
twelve heads. From the mass of materials digested by careful scholars
have been compiled the records now known; they form, with all their
imperfections, the best continuous history of any Asiatic people.
Popular abridgments are common, among which the _Tung Kien Kang-muh_,
or ‘General Mirror of History,’ and a compiled abridgment of it, the
_Kang Kien Í Chí_, or ‘History made Easy,’ are the most useful.
~THE HISTORIANS SZ’MA TSIEN AND SZ’MA KWANG.~
The earliest historian among the Chinese is Sz’ma Tsien,[329] who
flourished about B.C. 104, in which year he commenced the _Sz’ Kí_,
or ‘Historical Memoirs,’ in one hundred and thirty chapters. In this
great work, which, like the Muses of Herodotus in Greek, forms the
commencement of credible modern history with the Chinese, the author
relates the actions of the Emperors in regular succession and the
principal events which happened during their reigns, together with
details and essays respecting music, astronomy, religious ceremonies,
weights, public works, etc., and the changes they had undergone during
the twenty-two centuries embraced in his Memoirs. It is stated by
Rémusat that there are in the whole work five hundred and twenty-six
thousand five hundred characters, for the Chinese, like the ancient
Hebrews, number the words in their standard authors. The _Sz’ Kí_ is in
five parts, and its arrangement has served as a model for subsequent
historians, few of whom have equalled its author in the vivacity of
their style or carefulness of their research.
The _General Mirror to Aid in Governing_, by Sz’ma Kwang, of the Sung
dynasty, in two hundred and ninety-four chapters, is one of the best
digested and most lucid annals that Chinese scholars have produced,
embracing the period between the end of the Tsin to the beginning of
the Sung dynasty (A.D. 313 to 960). Both the historians Sz’ma Tsien and
Sz’ma Kwang filled high offices in the State, were both alternately
disgraced and honored, and were mixed up with all the political
movements of the day. Rémusat speaks in terms of deserved commendation
of their writings, and to a notice of their works adds some account of
their lives. One or two incidents in the career of Sz’ma Kwang exhibit
a readiness of action and freedom in expressing his sentiments which
are more common among the Chinese than is usually supposed. In his
youth he was standing with some companions near a large vase used to
rear gold fish, when one of them fell in. Too terrified themselves to
do anything, all but young Kwang ran to seek succor; he looked around
for a stone with which to break the vase and let the water flow out,
and thus saved the life of his companion. In subsequent life the same
common sense was joined with a boldness which led him to declare his
sentiments on all occasions. Some southern people once sent a present
to the Emperor of a strange quadruped, which his flatterers said was
the mythological _kí-lin_ of happy omen. Sz’ma Kwang, being consulted
on the matter, replied: “I have never seen the _kí-lin_, therefore I
cannot tell whether this be one or not. What I do know is that the
real _kí-lin_ could never be brought hither by foreigners; he appears
of himself when the State is well governed.”[330] An extension of this
great work by Lí Tao, of the Sung dynasty, in five hundred and twenty
books, gave their countrymen a fair account of the thirty-six centuries
of their national fortunes; and the digest under Chu Hí’s direction has
made them still more accessible and famous to succeeding ages.
Few works in Chinese literature are more popular than a historical
novel by Chin Shau, about A.D. 350, called the _San Kwoh Chí_, or
‘History of the Three States;’ its scenes are laid in the northern
parts of China, and include the period between A.D. 170 and 317, when
several ambitious chieftains conspired against the imbecile princes of
the once famous Han dynasty, and, after that was overthrown, fought
among themselves until the Empire was again reconsolidated under the
Tsin dynasty. This performance, from its double character and the long
period over which it extends, necessarily lacks that unity which a
novel should have. Its charms, to a Chinese, consist in the animated
descriptions of plots and counterplots, in the relations of battles,
sieges, and retreats, and the admirable manner in which the characters
are delineated and their acts intermixed with entertaining episodes.
The work opens with describing the distracted state of the Empire
under the misrule of Ling tí and Hwan tí, the last two monarchs of
the House of Han (147 to 184), who were entirely swayed by eunuchs,
and left the administration of government to reckless oppressors,
until ambitious men, taking advantage of the general discontent,
raised the standard of rebellion. The leaders ordered their partisans
to wear yellow head-dresses, whence the rebellion was called that of
the Yellow Caps, and was suppressed only after several years of hard
struggle by a few distinguished generals who upheld the throne. Among
these was Tung Choh, who, gradually drawing to himself all the power
in the State, thereby arrayed against himself others equally ambitious
and unscrupulous. Disorganization had not yet proceeded so far that
all hope of supporting the rightful throne had left the minds of its
adherents, among whom was Wang Yun, a chancellor of the Empire, who,
seeing the danger of the State, devised a scheme to inveigle Tung Choh
to his ruin, which is thus narrated:
~EXTRACT FROM THE HISTORY OF THE THREE STATES.~
One day Tung Choh gave a great entertainment to the officers of
government. When the wine had circulated several times, Lü Pu (his
adopted son) whispered something in his ear, whereupon he ordered the
attendants to take Chang Wăn from the table into the hall below, and
presently one of them returned, handing up his head in a charger. The
spirits of all present left their bodies, but Tung, laughing, said,
“Pray, sirs, do not be alarmed. Chang Wăn has been leaguing with
Yuen Shuh how to destroy me; a messenger just now brought a letter
for him, and inadvertently gave it to my son; for which he has lost
his life. You, gentlemen, have no cause for dread.” All the officers
replied, “Yes! Yes!” and immediately separated.
Chancellor Wang Yun returned home in deep thought: “The proceedings
of this day’s feast are enough to make my seat an uneasy one;” and
taking his cane late at night he walked out in the moonlight into
his rear garden, when standing near a rose arbor and weeping as he
looked up, he heard a person sighing and groaning within the peony
pavillion. Carefully stepping and watching, he saw it was Tiau Chen,
a singing-girl belonging to the house, who had been taken into his
family in early youth and taught to sing and dance; she was now
sixteen, and both beautiful and accomplished, and Wang treated her as
if she had been his own daughter.
Listening some time, he spoke out, “What underhand plot are you at
now, insignificant menial?” Tiau Chen, much alarmed, kneeling, said,
“What treachery can your slave dare to devise?” “If you have nothing
secret, why then are you here late at night sighing in this manner?”
Tiau replied, “Permit your handmaid to declare her inmost thoughts.
I am very grateful for your excellency’s kind nurture, for teaching
me singing and dancing, and for the treatment I have received. If
my body should be crushed to powder [in your service], I could not
requite a myriad to one [for these favors]. But lately I have seen
your eyebrows anxiously knit, doubtless from some State affairs,
though I presumed not to ask; this evening, too, I saw you restless
in your seat. On this account I sighed, not imagining your honor was
overlooking me. If I can be of the least use, I would not decline
the sacrifice of a thousand lives.” Wang, striking his cane on the
ground, exclaimed, “Who would have thought the rule of Han was lodged
in your hands! Come with me into the picture-gallery.” Tiau Chen
following in, he ordered his females all to retire, and placing her
in a seat, turned himself around and did her obeisance. She, much
surprised, prostrated herself before him, and asked the reason of
such conduct, to which he replied, “You are able to compassionate
all the people in the dominions of Han.” His words ended, the tears
gushed like a fountain. She added, “I just now said, if I can be of
any service I will not decline, though I should lose my life.”
Wang, kneeling, rejoined, “The people are in most imminent danger,
and the nobility in a hazard like that of eggs piled up; neither can
be rescued without your assistance. The traitor Tung Choh wishes soon
to seize the throne, and none of the civil or military officers
have any practicable means of defence. He has an adopted son, Lü Pu,
a remarkably daring and brave man, who, like himself, is the slave
of lust. Now I wish to contrive a scheme to inveigle them both, by
first promising to wed you to Lü, and then offering you to Tung,
while you must seize the opportunity to raise suspicions in them, and
slander one to the other so as to sever them, and cause Lü to kill
Tung, whereby the present great evils will be terminated, the throne
upheld, and the government re-established. All this is in your power,
but I do not know how the plan strikes you.” Tiau answered, “I have
promised your excellency my utmost service, and you may trust me that
I will devise some good scheme when I am offered to them.”
“You must be aware that if this design leaks out, we shall all be
utterly exterminated.” “Your excellency need not be anxious, and if
I do not aid in accomplishing your patriotic designs, let me die a
thousand deaths.”
Wang, bowing, thanked her. The next day, taking several of the
brilliant pearls preserved in the family, he ordered a skilful
workman to inlay them into a golden coronet, which he secretly sent
as a present to Lü Pu. Highly gratified, Lü himself went to Wang’s
house to thank him, where a well-prepared feast of viands and wine
awaited his arrival. Wang went out to meet him, and waiting upon him
into the rear hall, invited him to sit at the top of the table, but
Lü objected: “I am only a general in the prime minister’s department,
while your excellency is a high minister in his Majesty’s court--why
this mistaken respect?”
Wang rejoined, “There is no hero in the country now besides you;
I do not pay this honor to your office, but to your talents.” Lü
was excessively pleased. Wang ceased not in engaging him to drink,
the while speaking of Tung Choh’s high qualities, and praising his
guest’s virtues, who, on his side, wildly laughed for joy. Most of
the attendants were ordered to retire, a few waiting-maids stopping
to serve out wine, when, being half drunk, he ordered them to tell
the young child to come in. Shortly after, two pages led in Tiau
Chen, gorgeously dressed, and Lü, much astonished, asked, “Who is
this?”
“It is my little daughter, Tiau Chen, whom I have ordered to come
in and see you, for I am very grateful for your honor’s misapplied
kindness to me, which has been like that to near relatives.” He then
bade her present a goblet of wine to him, and, as she did so, their
eyes glanced to and from each other.
Wang, feigning to be drunk, said: “The child strongly requests
your honor to drink many cups; my house entirely depends upon your
excellency.” Lü requested her to be seated, but she acting as if
about to retire, Wang remarked, “The general is my intimate friend;
be seated, my child; what are you afraid of?” She then sat down at
his side, while Lü’s eyes never strayed from their gaze upon her,
drinking and looking.
Wang, pointing to Tiau, said to Lü, “I wish to give this girl to
you as a concubine, but know not whether you will receive her?” Lü,
leaving the table to thank him, said, “If I could obtain such a girl
as this, I would emulate the requital dogs and horses give for the
care taken of them.”
Wang rejoined, “I will immediately select a lucky day, and send her
to your house.” Lü was delighted beyond measure, and never took his
eyes off her, while Tiau herself, with ogling glances, intimated her
passion. The feast shortly after broke up, and Lü departed.
The scheme here devised was successful, and Tung Choh was assassinated
by his son when he was on his way to depose the monarch. His death,
however, brought no peace to the country, and three chieftains, Tsau
Tsau, Liu Pí, and Sun Kiuen, soon distinguished themselves in their
struggles for power, and afterward divided the Empire into the three
States of Wu, Shuh, and Wei, from which the work derives its name. Many
of the personages who figure in this work have since been deified,
among whom are Liu Pí’s sworn brother Kwan Yü, who is now the Mars
(_Kwan tí_), and Hwa To, the Esculapius, of Chinese mythology. Its
scenes and characters have all been fruitful subjects for the pencil
and the pen of artists and poetasters. One commentator has gone so far
as to incorporate his reflections in the body of the text itself, in
the shape of such expressions as “Wonderful speech! What rhodomontade!
This man was a fool before, and shows himself one now!” Davis likens
this work to the Iliad for its general arrangement and blustering
character of the heroes; it was composed when the scenes described and
their leading actors existed chiefly in personal recollection, and
the remembrances of both were fading away in the twilight of popular
legends.
Among the numerous historians of China, only a few would repay the
labor of an entire translation, but many would furnish good materials
for extended epitomes. Among these are the _Tso Chuen_, already
noticed; the _Anterior Han Dynasty_, by Pan Ku and his sister; the _Wei
Shu_, by Wei Shau (A.D. 386-556); and the works of Sz’ma Kwang. In
addition to the dynastic histories, numerous similar works classified
under the heads of annals and complete records in two sections of
this division would furnish much authentic material for the foreign
archæologist. The most valuable relic after the _Chun Tsiu_, of a
historic character, is the “Bamboo Books,” reported to have been found
in a tomb in Honan, A.D. 279; it gives a chronological list down
to B.C. 299, with incidents interspersed, and bears many internal
evidences of genuineness. Legge and Biot have each translated it.[331]
~BIOGRAPHIES AND STATISTICS.~
Biographies of distinguished men and women are numerous, and their
preparation forms a favorite branch of literary labor. It is noticeable
to observe the consideration paid to literary women in these memoirs,
and the praises bestowed upon discreet mothers whose talented children
are considered to be the criteria of their careful training. One work
of this class is in one hundred and twenty volumes, called _Sing Pu_,
but it does not possess the incident and animation which are found in
some less formal biographical dictionaries. The _Lieh Nü Chuen_, or
‘Memoirs of Distinguished Ladies’ of ancient times, by Liu Hiang, B.C.
125, is often cited by writers on female education who wish to show
how women were anciently trained to the practice of every virtue and
accomplishment. If a Chinese author cannot quote a case to illustrate
his position at least eight or ten centuries old, he thinks half its
force abated by its youth. Biographical works are almost as numerous
as statistical, and afford one of the best sources for studying the
national character; some of them, like the lives of Washington or
Cromwell in our own literature, combine both history and biography.
Some of the statistical and geographical works mentioned in this
division are noticed on p. 49. Among those on the Constitution is
the ‘Complete Antiquarian Researches’ of Ma Twan-lin (A.D. 1275), in
three hundred and forty-eight chapters. It forms a most extensive and
profound work, containing researches upon every matter relating to
government, and extending through a series of dynasties which held
the throne nearly forty centuries. Rémusat goes so far as to say:
“This excellent work is a library by itself, and if Chinese literature
possessed no other, the language would be worth learning for the sake
of reading this alone.” No book has been more drawn upon by Europeans
for information concerning matters relating to Eastern Asia than
this; Visdelou and De Guignes took from it much of their information
relating to the Tartars and Huns; and Pingsé extracted his account
of the comets and ærolites from its pages, besides some geographical
and ethnographical papers. Rémusat often made use of its stores, and
remarks that many parts merit an entire translation, which can be said,
indeed, of few Chinese authors. A supplement prepared and published
in 1586 by Wang Kí brings it down to that date. A further revision
was issued under imperial patronage in 1772, and a final one not long
afterward, continuing the narrative to the reign of Kanghí.[332] It
elevates our opinion of a nation whose literature can boast of a work
like this, exhibiting such patient investigation and candid comparison
of authorities, such varied research and just discrimination of what
is truly important, and so extensive a mass of facts and opinions upon
every subject of historic interest. Although there be no quotations
in it from Roman or Greek classic authors, and the ignorance of the
compiler of what was known upon the same subjects in other countries
disqualified him from giving his remarks the completeness they would
otherwise have had, yet when the stores of knowledge from western lands
are made known to a people whose scholars can produce such works as
this, the _Memoirs_ of Sz’ma Tsien, and others equally good, it may
reasonably be expected that they will not lack in industry or ability
to carry on their researches.
~CHINESE PHILOSOPHICAL WRITINGS.~
The third division of _Tsz’ Pu_, ‘Scholastic’ or ‘Professional
Writings,’ is arranged under fourteen sections, viz.: Philosophical,
Military, Legal, Agricultural, Medical, Mathematical, and Magical
writings, works on the Liberal Arts, Collections, Miscellanies,
Encyclopædias, Novels, and treatises on the tenets of the Buddhists and
Rationalists. The first section is called _Jü Kia Lui_, meaning the
‘Works of the Literary Family,’ under which name is included those who
maintain, discuss, and teach the tenets of the sages, although they may
not accept all that Confucius taught. This class of books is worthy
of far more examination than foreigners have hitherto given to it,
and they will find that Chinese philosophers have discussed morals,
government, cosmogony, and like subjects, with a freedom and acuteness
that has not been credited to them.
It was during the Sung dynasty, when Europe was utterly lethargic and
unprogressive, that China showed a marvellous mental activity, and
received from Ching, Chu, Chau, and their disciples a molding and
conservative influence which has remained to this day. An extract from
a discussion by Chu Hí will show the way in which he reasons on the
_primum mobile_.
~CHU HÍ ON THE GREAT EXTREME.~
Under the whole heaven there is no primary matter (_lí_) without the
immaterial principle (_kí_), and no immaterial principle apart from
the primary matter. Subsequent to the existence of the immaterial
principle is produced primary matter, which is deducible from the
axiom that the one male and the one female principle of nature may
be denominated _tao_ or _logos_ (the active principle from which
all things emanate); thus nature is spontaneously possessed of
benevolence and righteousness (which are included in the idea of
_tao_).
First of all existed _tien lí_, (the celestial principle or soul
of the universe), and then came primary matter; primary matter
accumulated constituted _chih_ (body, substance, or the accidents and
qualities of matter), and nature was arranged.
Should any ask whether the immaterial principle or primary matter
existed first, I should say that the immaterial principle on assuming
a figure ascended, and primary matter on assuming form descended;
when we come to speak of assuming form and ascending or descending,
how can we divest ourselves of the idea of priority and subsequence?
When the immaterial principle does not assume a form, primary matter
then becomes coarse, and forms a sediment.
Originally, however, no priority or subsequence can be predicated of
the immaterial principle and primary matter, and yet if you insist on
carrying out the reasoning to the question of their origin, then you
must say that the immaterial principle has the priority; but it is
not a separate and distinct thing; it is just contained in the centre
of the primary matter, so that were there no primary matter, then
this immaterial principle would have no place of attachment. Primary
matter consists, in fact, of the four elements of metal, wood,
water, and fire, while the immaterial principle is no other than the
four cardinal virtues of benevolence, righteousness, propriety, and
wisdom....
Should any one ask for an explanation of the assertion that the
immaterial principle has first existence, and after that comes
primary matter, I say, it is not necessary to speak thus: but when
we know that they are combined, is it that the immaterial principle
holds the precedence, and the primary matter the subsequence, or
is it that the immaterial principle is subsequent to the primary
matter? We cannot thus carry our reasoning; but should we endeavor
to form some idea of it, then we may suppose that the primary matter
relies on the immaterial principle to come into action, and wherever
the primary matter is coagulated, there the immaterial principle
is present. For the primary matter can concrete and coagulate, act
and do, but the immaterial principle has neither will nor wish,
plan nor operation: but only where the primary matter is collected
and coagulated, then the immaterial principle is in the midst of
it. Just as in nature, men and things, grass and trees, birds and
beasts, in their propagation invariably require seed, and certainly
cannot without seed from nothingness produce anything; all this,
then, is the primary matter, but the immaterial principle is merely
a pure, empty, wide-stretched void, without form or footstep, and
incapable of action or creation; but the primary matter can ferment
and coagulate, collect and produce things....
Should any one ask, with regard to those expressions, “The Supreme
Ruler confers the due medium on the people, and when Heaven is about
to send down a great trust upon men, out of regard to the people
it sets up princes over them;” and, “Heaven in producing things
treats them according to their attainments: on those who do good, it
sends down a hundred blessings, and on those who do evil, a hundred
calamities;” and, “When Heaven is about to send down some uncommon
calamity upon a generation, it first produces some uncommon genius to
determine it;” do these and such like expressions imply that above
the azure sky there is a Lord and Ruler who acts thus, or is it still
true that Heaven has no mind, and men only carry out their reasonings
in this style? I reply, these three things are but one idea; it is
that the immaterial principle of order is thus. The primary matter in
its evolutions hitherto, after one season of fulness has experienced
one of decay; and after a period of decline it again flourishes;
just as if things were going on in a circle. There never was a decay
without a revival.
When men blow out their breath their bellies puff out, and when they
inhale their bellies sink in, while we should have thought that at
each expiration the stomach would fall in, and swell up at each
inspiration; but the reason of it is that when men expire, though the
mouthful of breath goes out, the second mouthful is again produced,
therefore the belly is puffed up; and when men inspire, the breath
which is introduced from within drives the other out, so that the
belly sinks in. Lau-tsz’ said nature is like an open pipe or bag; it
moves, and yet is not compelled to stop, it is empty, and still more
comes out; just like a fan-case open at both ends....
The great extreme (_tai kih_) is merely the immaterial principle. It
is not an independent separate existence; it is found in the male and
female principles of nature, in the five elements, in all things; it
is merely an immaterial principle, and because of its extending to
the extreme limit, is therefore called the _great extreme_. If it
were not for it, heaven and earth would not have been set afloat....
From the time when the great extreme came into operation, all
things were produced by transformation. This one doctrine includes
the whole; it was not because this was first in existence and then
that, but altogether there is only one great origin, which from
the substance extends to the use, and from the subtle reaches to
that which is manifest. Should one ask, because all things partake
of it, is the great extreme split up and divided? I should reply,
that originally there is only one great extreme (_anima mundi_), of
which all things partake, so that each one is provided with a great
extreme; just as the moon in the heavens is only one, and yet is
dispersed over the hills and lakes, being seen from every place in
succession; still you cannot say that the moon is divided.
The great extreme has neither residence, nor form, nor place which
you can assign to it. If you speak of it before its development,
then previous to that emanation it was perfect stillness; motion and
rest, with the male and female principles of nature, are only the
embodiment and descent of this principle. Motion is the motion of
the great extreme, and rest is its rest, but these same motion and
rest are not to be considered the great extreme itself.... Should
any one ask, what is the great extreme? I should say, it is simply
the principle of extreme goodness and extreme perfection. Every man
has a great extreme, everything has one; that which Chao-tsz’ called
the great extreme is the exemplified virtue of everything that is
extremely good and perfect in heaven and earth, men and things.
The great extreme is simply the extreme point, beyond which one
cannot go; that which is most elevated, most mysterious, most subtle,
and most divine, beyond which there is no passing. Lienkí was afraid
lest people should think that the great extreme possessed form,
and therefore called it the boundless extreme, a principle centred
in nothing, and having an infinite extent.... It is the immaterial
principle of the two powers, the four forms, and the eight changes
of nature; we cannot say that it does not exist, and yet no form or
corporeity can be ascribed to it. From this point is produced the
one male and the one female principle of nature, which are called
the dual powers; the four forms and eight changes also proceed from
this, all according to a certain natural order, irrespective of human
strength in its arrangement. But from the time of Confucius no one
has been able to get hold of this idea.[333]
And, it might be added, no one ever will be able to “get hold” thereof.
Such discussions as this have occupied the minds and pens of Chinese
metaphysicians for centuries, and in their endeavors to explain the
half-digested notions of the _Book of Changes_, they have wandered
far away from the road which would have led them in the path of
true knowledge, namely, the observation and record of the works and
operations of nature around them; and one after another they have
continued to roll this stone of Sisyphus until fatigue and bewilderment
have come over them all. Some works on female education are found
in this section, which seems designed as much to include whatever
philosophers wrote as all they wrote on philosophy.
The second and third sections, on military and legal subjects, contain
no writings of any eminence. The isolation of the Chinese prevented
them from studying the various forms of government and jurisprudence
observed in other countries and ages; it is this feature of originality
which renders their legislation so interesting to western students.
Among the fourth, on agricultural treatises, is the _Kăng Chih Tu
Shí_, or ‘Plates and Odes on Tillage and Weaving,’ a thin quarto,
which was written A.D. 1210, and has been widely circulated by the
present government in order “to evince its regard for the people’s
support.” The first half contains twenty-three plates on the various
processes to be followed in raising rice, the last of which represents
the husbandmen and their families returning thanks to the gods of the
land for a good harvest, and offering a portion of the fruits of the
earth; the last plate in the second part of the work also represents
a similar scene of returning thanks for a good crop of silk, and
presenting an offering to the gods. The drawings in this work are
among the best for perspective and general composition which Chinese
art has produced; probably their merit was the chief inducement to
publish the work at governmental expense, for the odes are too brief to
contain much information, and too difficult to be generally understood.
The _Encyclopedia of Agriculture_, by Sü Kwang-kí, a high officer
in 1600, better known as Paul Sü, gives a most elaborate detail of
farming operations and utensils existing in the Ming. Other treatises
on special topics and crops have been written, but it is the untiring
industry of the people which secures to them the best returns from the
soil, for they owe very little to science or machinery.
~THE SACRED COMMANDS OF KANGHÍ.~
Among the numerous writings published for the improvement and
instruction of the people by their rulers, none have been more
influential than the _Shing Yu_, or ‘Sacred Commands,’ a politico-moral
treatise, which has been made known to English readers by the
translation of Dr. Milne.[334] The groundwork consists of sixteen
apothegms, written by the Emperor Kanghí, containing general rules
for the peace, prosperity, and wealth of all classes of his subjects.
In order that none should plead ignorance in excuse for not knowing
the Sacred Commands, it is by law required that they be proclaimed
throughout the Empire by the local officers on the first and fifteenth
day of every month, in a public hall set apart for the purpose, where
the people are not only permitted, but requested and encouraged, to
attend. In point of fact, however, this _political preaching_, as it
has been called, is neglected except in large towns, though the design
is not the less commendable. It is highly praiseworthy to monarchs,
secure in their thrones as Kanghí and Yungching were, to take upon
themselves the teaching of morality to their subjects, and institute a
special service every fortnight to have their precepts communicated to
them. If, too, it should soon be seen that their designs had utterly
failed of all real good results from the mendacity of their officers
and the ignorance or opposition of the people, still the merit due them
is not diminished. The sixteen apothegms, each consisting of seven
characters, are as follows:
1. Pay just regard to filial and fraternal duties, in order to give
due importance to the relations of life.
2. Respect kindred in order to display the excellence of harmony.
3. Let concord abound among those who dwell in the same neighborhood,
thereby preventing litigations.
4. Give the chief place to husbandry and the culture of the mulberry,
that adequate supplies of food and raiment be secured.
5. Esteem economy, that money be not lavishly wasted.
6. Magnify academical learning, in order to direct the scholar’s
progress.
7. Degrade strange religions, in order to exalt the orthodox
doctrines.
8. Explain the laws, in order to warn the ignorant and obstinate.
9. Illustrate the principles of a polite and yielding carriage, in
order to improve manners.
10. Attend to the essential employments, in order to give unvarying
determination to the will of the people.
11. Instruct the youth, in order to restrain them from evil.
12. Suppress all false accusing, in order to secure protection to the
innocent.
13. Warn those who hide deserters, that they may not be involved in
their downfall.
14. Complete the payment of taxes, in order to prevent frequent
urging.
15. Unite the _pao_ and _kia_, in order to extirpate robbery and
theft.
16. Settle animosities, that lives may be duly valued.
~THEIR AMPLIFICATION BY YUNGCHING.~
The amplifications of these maxims by Yungching contain much
information respecting the theory of his government, and the position
of the writer entitles him to speak from knowledge; his amplification
of the fourteenth maxim shows their character.
From of old the country was divided into districts, and a tribute
paid proportioned to the produce of the land. From hence arose
revenues, upon which the expense of the five _lí_, and the whole
charges of government depended. These expenses a prince must receive
from the people, and they are what inferiors should offer to
superiors. Both in ancient and modern times this principle has been
the same and cannot be changed. Again, the expenses of the salaries
of magistrates that they may rule our people; of pay to the army
that they may protect them; of preparing for years of scarcity that
they may be fed; as all these are collected from the Empire, so they
are all employed for its use. How then can it be supposed that the
granaries and treasury of the sovereign are intended to injure the
people that he may nourish himself? Since the establishment of our
dynasty till now, the proportions of the revenue have been fixed by
an universally approved statute, and all unjust items completely
cancelled; not a thread or hair too much has been demanded from the
people. In the days of our sacred Father, the Emperor Pious, his
abounding benevolence and liberal favor fed this people upward of
sixty years. Daily desirous to promote their abundance and happiness,
he greatly diminished the revenue, not limiting the reduction to
hundreds, thousands, myriads, or lacs of taels. The mean and the
remote have experienced his favor; even now it enters the muscles,
and penetrates to the marrow. To exact with moderation, diminish the
revenue, and confer favors on the multitude, are the virtues of a
prince: to serve superiors, and to give the first place to public
service and second to their own, are the duties of a people. Soldiers
and people should all understand this. Become not lazy and trifling,
nor prodigally throw away your property. Linger not to pay in the
revenue, looking and hoping for some unusual occurrence to avoid it,
nor entrust your imposts to others, lest bad men appropriate them to
their own use.
Pay in at the terms, and wait not to be urged. Then with the
overplus you can nourish your parents, complete the marriages of
your children, satisfy your daily wants, and provide for the annual
feasts and sacrifices. District officers may then sleep at ease in
their public halls, and villagers will no longer be vexed in the
night by calls from the tax-gatherers; on neither hand will any be
involved. Your wives and children will be easy and at rest, than
which you have no greater joy. If unaware of the importance of the
revenue to government, and that the laws must be enforced, perhaps
you will positively refuse or deliberately put off the payment, when
the magistrates, obliged to balance their accounts, and give in their
reports at stated times, must be rigorously severe. The assessors,
suffering the pain of the whip, cannot help indulging their rapacious
demands on you; knocking and pecking at your doors like hungry hawks,
they will devise numerous methods of getting their wants supplied.
These nameless ways of spending will probably amount to more than
the sum which ought to have been paid, and that sum, after all,
cannot be dispensed with.
We know not what benefit can accrue from this. Rather than give
presents to satisfy the rapacity of policemen, how much better to
clear off the just assessments! Rather than prove an obstinate race
and refuse the payment of the revenue, would it not be better to keep
the law? Every one, even the most stupid, knows this. Furthermore,
when superiors display benevolence, inferiors should manifest
justice; this belongs to the idea of their being one body. Reflect
that the constant labors and cares of the palace are all to serve the
people. When freshes occur, dikes must be raised to restrain them;
if the demon of drought appear, prayer must be offered for rain:
when the locusts come, they must be destroyed. If the calamities be
averted, you reap the advantage; but if they overwhelm you, your
taxes are forborne, and alms liberally expended for you. If it be
thus, and the people still can suffer themselves to evade the payment
of taxes and hinder the supply of government, how, I ask, can you be
easy? Such conduct is like that of an undutiful son. We use these
repeated admonitions, only wishing you, soldiers and people, to think
of the army and nation, and also of your persons and families. Then
abroad you will have the fame of faithfulness, and at home peacefully
enjoy its fruits. Officers will not trouble you, nor their clerks vex
you--what joy equal to this! O soldiers and people, meditate on these
things in the silent night, and let all accord with our wishes.[335]
~WANG YU-PÍ’S RIDICULE OF BUDDHISM.~
Wang Yu-pí, a high officer under Yungching, paraphrased the
amplifications in a colloquial manner. His remarks on the doctrines
of the Buddhists and Rationalists will serve as an illustration; the
quotation here given is found under the seventh maxim.
You simple people know not how to discriminate; for even according to
what the books of Buddha say, he was the first-born son of the king
Fan; but, retiring from the world, he fled away alone to the top of
the Snowy Mountains, in order to cultivate virtue. If he regarded not
his own father, mother, wife, and children, are you such fools as to
suppose that he regards the multitude of the living, or would deliver
his laws and doctrines to you? The imperial residence, the queen’s
palace, the dragon’s chamber, and halls of state--if he rejected
these, is it not marvellous to suppose that he should delight in
the nunneries, monasteries, temples, and religious houses which you
can build for him? As to the Gemmeous Emperor, the most honorable
in heaven, if there be indeed such a god, it is strange to think he
should not enjoy himself at his own ease in the high heavens, but
must have you to give him a body of molten gold, and build him a
house to dwell in!
All these nonsensical tales about keeping fasts, collecting
assemblies, building temples, and fashioning images, are feigned by
those sauntering, worthless priests and monks to deceive you. Still
you believe them, and not only go yourselves to worship and burn
incense in the temples, but also suffer your wives and daughters
to go. With their hair oiled and faces painted, dressed in scarlet
and trimmed with green, they go to burn incense in the temples,
associating with the priests of Buddha, doctors of Reason and
bare-stick attorneys, touching shoulders, rubbing arms, and pressed
in the moving crowd. I see not where the good they talk of doing is;
on the contrary, they do many shameful things that create vexation,
and give people occasion for laughter and ridicule.
Further, there are some persons who, fearing that their good boys and
girls may not attain to maturity, take and give them to the temples
to become priests and priestesses of Buddha and Reason, supposing
that after having removed them from their own houses and placed
them at the foot of grandfather Fuh (Buddha), they are then sure of
prolonging life! Now, I would ask you if those who in this age are
priests of these sects, all reach the age of seventy or eighty, and
if there is not a short-lived person among them?
Again, there is another very stupid class of persons who, because
their parents are sick, pledge their own persons by a vow before the
gods that if their parents be restored to health, they will worship
and burn incense on the hills, prostrating themselves at every step
till they arrive at the summit, whence they will dash themselves
down! If they do not lose their lives, they are sure to break a leg
or an arm. They say to themselves, “To give up our own lives to
save our parents is the highest display of filial duty.” Bystanders
also praise them as dutiful children, but they do not consider that
to slight the bodies received from their parents in this manner
discovers an extreme want of filial duty.
Moreover, you say that serving Fuh is a profitable service; that if
you burn paper money, present offerings, and keep fasts before the
face of your god Fuh, he will dissipate calamities, blot out your
sins, increase your happiness, and prolong your age! Now reflect:
from of old it has been said, “The gods are intelligent and just.”
Were Buddha a god of this description, how could he avariciously
desire your gilt paper, and your offerings to engage him to afford
you protection? If you do not burn gilt paper to him, and spread
offerings on his altar, the god Fuh will be displeased with you,
and send down judgments on you! Then your god Fuh is a scoundrel!
Take, for example, the district magistrate. Should you never go to
compliment and flatter him, yet, if you are good people and attend to
your duty, he will pay marked attention to you. But transgress the
law, commit violence, or usurp the rights of others, and though you
should use a thousand ways and means to flatter him, he will still be
displeased with you, and will, without fail, remove such pests from
society.
You say that worshipping Fuh atones for your sins. Suppose you have
violated the law, and are hauled to the judgment-seat to be punished;
if you should bawl out several thousand times, “O your excellency!
O your excellency!” do you think the magistrate would spare you?
You will, however, at all risks, invite several Buddhist and
Rationalist priests to your houses to recite their canonical books
and make confession, supposing that to chant their mummery drives
away misery, secures peace, and prolongs happiness and life. But
suppose you rest satisfied with merely reading over the sections of
these Sacred Commands several thousands or myriads of times without
acting conformably thereto; would it not be vain to suppose that his
Imperial Majesty should delight in you, reward you with money, and
promote you to office?[336]
This ridicule of the popular superstitions has, no doubt, had some
effect, repeated as it is in all parts of the country; but since
the literati merely tear down and build up nothing, giving the
people no substitute for what they take away, but rather, in their
times of trouble, doing the things they decry, such homilies do not
destroy the general respect for such ceremonies. The _Shing Yu_ has
also been versified for the benefit of children, and colloquial
explanations added, which has further tended to enforce and inculcate
its admonitions. The praise bestowed on this work by Johnson, in his
_Oriental Religions_, has a good degree of actual usefulness among the
people to confirm his observations; yet they are quite used to hearing
the highest moral platitudes from their rulers, to whom they would not
lend a dollar on their word.
In the fifth section, on medical writings, separate works are
mentioned on the treatment of all domestic animals; among them is one
on veterinary surgery, whose writers have versified most of their
observations and prescriptions. The _Herbal_ of Lí Shí-chin, noticed on
p. 370, and monographs on special diseases, all show the industry of
Chinese physicians to much better advantage than their science. Works
on medicine and surgery are numerous, in which the surface of the body
is minutely represented in pictures, together with drawings of the
mode of performing various operations. Works on judicial astrology,
chiromancy, and other modes of divination, on the rules for finding
lucky spots for houses, graves, and temples, are exceedingly numerous,
a large number of them written by Rationalists.
The eighth section, on art, contains writings on painting, music,
engraving, writing, posturing, and archery, and they will doubtless
furnish many new points to western artists on the principles and
attainments of the Chinese in these branches when the works have been
made better known.
The ninth section, entitled ‘Collections’ or ‘Repertories,’ is divided
into memoirs on antiques, swords, coins, and bronzes, and presents
a field of interesting research to a foreign archæologist likely to
reward him. Another division, containing the monographs on tea, bamboo,
floriculture, etc., is not so promising.
The tenth section, on philosophical writings, having a tinge of
heterodoxy, is a very large one, and offers a rare opportunity of
research to those curious to know what China can contribute to moral
science. The writings of Roman Catholics and Moslems are included in
this long catalogue.
~CYCLOPÆDIAS, NOVELS, ETC.~
Under the head of encyclopædias, a list of summaries, compends, and
treasuries of knowledge is given, which for extent and bulkiness cannot
be equalled in any language. Among them is the _Tai Tien_, or ‘Great
Record’ of the Emperor Yungloh (A.D. 1403), in twenty-two thousand
eight hundred and seventy-seven chapters, and containing the substance
of all classical, historical, philosophical, and scientific writings in
the language. Parts of this compilation were lost, and on the accession
of the Manchus one-tenth of it was missing; but by means of the
unequalled interest on the part of Yungloh in his national literature,
three hundred and eighty-five ancient and rare works were rescued
from destruction. The _San Tsai Tu_, or ‘Plates [illustrative of the]
Three Powers’ (_i.e._, heaven, earth, and man, by which is meant the
entire universe), in one hundred and thirty volumes, is one of the
most valuable compilations, by reason of the great number of plates it
contains, which exhibit the ideas of the compilers much better than
their descriptions.
The twelfth section, containing novels and tales, called _Siao Shwoh_,
or ‘Trifling Talk,’ gives the titles of but few of the thousands of
productions of this class in the language. Works of fiction are among
the most popular and exceptionable books the Chinese have, and those
which are not demoralizing are, with some notable exceptions, like
the _Ten Talented Authors_, generally slighted. The books sold in the
streets are chiefly of this class of writings, consisting of tales and
stories generally destitute of all intricacy of plot, fertility of
illustration, or elevation of sentiment. They form the common mental
aliment of the lower classes, being read by those who are able, and
talked about by all; their influence is consequently immense. Many
of them are written in the purest style, among which a collection
called _Liao Chai_, or ‘Pastimes of the Study,’ in sixteen volumes, is
pre-eminent for its variety and force of expression, and its perusal
can be recommended to every one who wishes to study the copiousness of
the Chinese language. The preface is dated in 1679; most of the tales
are short, and few have any ostensible moral to them, while those which
are objectionable for their immorality, or ridiculous from their magic
whimsies, form a large proportion. A quotation or two will illustrate
the author’s invention:
A villager was once selling plums in the market, which were rather
delicious and fragrant, and high in price; and there was a Tao
priest, clad in ragged garments of coarse cotton, begging before his
wagon. The villager scolded him, but he would not go off; whereupon,
becoming angry, he reviled and hooted at him. The priest said, “The
wagon contains many hundred plums, and I have only begged one of
them, which, for you, respected sir, would certainly be no great
loss; why then are you so angry?” The spectators advised to give him
a poor plum and send him away, but the villager would not consent.
The workmen in the market disliking the noise and clamor, furnished
a few coppers and bought a plum, which they gave the priest. He
bowing thanked them, and turning to the crowd said, “I do not wish
to be stingy, and request you, my friends, to partake with me of
this delicious plum.” One of them replied, “Now you have it, why do
you not eat it yourself?” “I want only the stone to plant,” said
he, eating it up at a munch. When eaten, he held the stone in his
hand, and taking a spade off his shoulder, dug a hole in the ground
several inches deep, into which he put it and covered it with earth.
Then turning to the market people, he procured some broth with which
he watered and fertilized it; and others, wishing to see what would
turn up, brought him boiling dregs from shops near by, which he
poured upon the hole just dug. Every one’s eyes being fixed upon
the spot, they saw a crooked shoot issuing forth, which gradually
increased till it became a tree, having branches and leaves; flowers
and then fruit succeeded, large and very fragrant, which covered the
tree. The priest then approached the tree, plucked the fruit and
gave the beholders; and when all were consumed, he felled the tree
with a colter--chopping, chopping for a good while, until at last,
having cut it off, he shouldered the foliage in an easy manner, and
leisurely walked away.
When first the priest began to perform his magic arts, the villager
was also among the crowd, with outstretched neck and gazing eyes, and
completely forgot his own business. When the priest had gone, he
began to look into his wagon, and lo! it was empty of plums; and for
the first time he perceived that what had just been distributed were
all his own goods. Moreover, looking narrowly about his wagon, he saw
that the dashboard was gone, having just been cut off with a chisel.
Much excited and incensed he ran after him, and as he turned the
corner of the wall, he saw the board thrown down beneath the hedge,
it being that with which the plum-tree was felled. Nobody knew where
the priest had gone, and all the market folks laughed heartily.
The Rationalists are considered as the chief magicians among the
Chinese, and they figure in most of the tales in this work, whose
object probably was to exalt their craft, and add to their reputation.
Like the foregoing against hardheartedness, the following contains a
little sidewise admonition against theft:
On the west of the city in the hamlet of the White family lived a
rustic who stole his neighbor’s duck and cooked it. At night he
felt his skin itch, and on looking at it in the morning saw a thick
growth of duck’s feathers, which, when irritated, pained him. He
was much alarmed, for he had no remedy to cure it; but, in a dream
of the night, a man informed him, “Your disease is a judgment from
heaven; you must get the loser to reprimand you, and the feathers
will fall off.” Now this gentleman, his neighbor, was always liberal
and courteous, nor during his whole life, whenever he lost anything,
had he even manifested any displeasure in his countenance. The thief
craftily told him, “The fellow who stole your duck is exceedingly
afraid of a reprimand; but reprove him, and he will no doubt then
fear in future.” He, laughing, replied, “Who has the time or
disposition to scold wicked men?” and altogether refused to do so; so
the man, being hardly bestead, was obliged to tell the truth, upon
which the gentleman gave him a scolding, and his disorder was removed.
~CHARACTER OF CHINESE FICTION.~
Rémusat compares the construction of Chinese novels to those of
Richardson, in which the “authors render their characters interesting
and natural by reiterated strokes of the pencil, which finally produce
a high degree of illusion. The interest in their pages arose precisely
in proportion to the stage of my progress; and in approaching to the
termination, I found myself about to part with some agreeable people,
just as I had duly learned to relish their society.” He briefly
describes the defects in Chinese romances as principally consisting
in long descriptions of trifling particulars and delineations of
localities, and the characters and circumstances of the interlocutors,
while the thread of the narrative is carried on mostly in a
conversational way, which, from its minuteness, soon becomes tedious.
The length of their poetic descriptions and prolix display of the
wonders of art or the beauties of nature, thrown in at the least hint
in the narrative, or moral reflections introduced in the most serious
manner in the midst of diverting incidents, like a long-metre psalm
in a comedy, tend to confuse the main story and dislocate the unity
requisite to produce an effect.
Chinese novels, however, generally depend on something of a plot,
and the characters are sometimes well sustained. “Visits and the
formalities of polished statesmen; assemblies, and above all, the
conversations which make them agreeable; repasts, and the social
amusements which prolong them; walks of the admirers of beautiful
nature; journeys; the manœuvres of adventurers; lawsuits; the literary
examinations; and, in the sequel, marriage, form their most frequent
episodes and ordinary conclusions.” The hero of these plots is usually
a young academician, endowed with an amiable disposition and devotedly
attached to the study of classic authors, who meets with every kind of
obstacle and ill luck in the way of attaining the literary honors he
has set his heart on. The heroine is also well acquainted with letters;
her own inclinations and her father’s desires are that she may find a
man of suitable accomplishments, but after having heard of one, every
sort of difficulty is thrown in the way of getting him; which, of
course, on the part of both are at last happily surmounted.
The adventures which distinguished persons meet in wandering over the
country incognito, and the happy dénouement of their interviews with
some whom they have been able to elevate when their real characters
have been let out, form the plan of other tales. There is little or
nothing of high wrought description of passion, nor acts of atrocious
vengeance introduced to remove a troublesome person, but everything
is kept within the bounds of probability; and at the end the vicious
are punished by seeing their bad designs fail of their end in the
rewards and success given those who have done well. In most of the
stories whose length and style are such as to entitle them to the name
of novel, and which have attained any reputation, the story is not
disgraced by anything offensive; it is rather in the shorter tales
that decency is violated. Among them the _Hung Lao Mung_, or ‘Dreams
of the Red Chamber,’ is one of the most popular stories, and open not
a little to this objection.
The historical novels, of which there are many, would, if translated,
prove more interesting to foreign readers than those merely describing
manners, because they interweave much information in the story. The
_Shui Hu Chuen_, or ‘Narrative of the Water Marshes,’ and ‘The Annals
of the Contending States,’ are two of the best written; the latter is
more credible as a history than any other work in this class.
The fourth division of the Catalogue is called _Tsih Pu_, or
‘Miscellanies,’ and the works mentioned in it are chiefly poems
or collections of songs, occupying nearly one-third of the whole
collection. They are arranged in five sections, namely: Poetry of Tsu,
Complete Works of Individuals, and General Collections, On the Art of
Poetry, and Odes and Songs. The most ancient poet in the language is
Yuh Yuen, a talented Minister of State who flourished previous to the
time of Mencius, and wrote the _Lí Sao_, or ‘Dissipation of Sorrows.’
It has been translated into German and French. His name and misfortunes
are still commemorated by the Festival of Dragon-boats on the fifth
day of the fifth moon. More celebrated in Chinese estimation are the
poets Lí Tai-peh and Tu Fu of the Tang dynasty, and Su Tung-po of the
Sung, who combined the three leading traits of a bard, being lovers of
flowers, wine, and song, and attaining distinction in the service of
government.[337] The incidents in the life of the former of these bards
were so varied, and his reckless love of drink brought him into so
many scrapes, that he is no less famed for his adventures than for his
sonnets. The following story is told of him in the ‘Remarkable Facts of
all Times,’ which is here abridged from the translation of T. Pavié:
~STORY OF LÍ TAI-PEH, THE POET.~
Lí, called _Tai-peh_, or ‘Great-white,’ from the planet Venus,
was endowed with a beautiful countenance and a well-made person,
exhibiting in all his movements a gentle nobility which indicated a
man destined to rise above his age. When only ten years old, he could
read the classics and histories, and his conversation showed the
brilliancy of his thoughts, as well as the purity of his diction. He
was, in consequence of his precocity, called the Exiled Immortal, but
named himself the Retired Scholar of the Blue Lotus. Some one having
extolled the quality of the wine of Niauching, he straightway went
there, although more than three hundred miles distant, and abandoned
himself to his appetite for liquor. While singing and carousing in a
tavern, a military commandant passed, who, hearing his song, sent in
to inquire who it was, and carried the poet off to his own house. On
departing, he urged Lí to go to the capital and compete for literary
honors, which, he doubted not, could be easily attained, and at last
induced him to bend his steps to the capital. On his arrival there,
he luckily met the academician Ho near the palace, who invited him
to an alehouse, and laying aside his robes, drank wine with him till
night, and then carried him home. The two were soon well acquainted,
and discussed the merits of poetry and wine till they were much
charmed with each other.
As the day of examination approached, Ho gave the poet some advice.
“The examiners for this spring are Yang and Kao, one a brother of the
Empress, the other commander of his Majesty’s body-guard; both of
them love those who make them presents, and if you have no means to
buy their favor, the road of promotion will be shut to you. I know
them both very well, and will write a note to each of them, which
may, perhaps, obtain you some favor.” In spite of his merit and high
reputation, Lí found himself in such circumstances as to make it
desirable to avail of the good-will of his friend Ho; but on perusing
the notes he brought, the examiners disdainfully exclaimed, “After
having fingered his _protégé’s_ money, the academician contents
himself with sending us a billet which merely rings its sound, and
bespeaks our attention and favors toward an upstart without degree or
title. On the day of decision we will remember the name of Lí, and
any composition signed by him shall be thrown aside without further
notice.” The day of examination came, and the distinguished scholars
of the Empire assembled, eager to hand in their compositions. Lí,
fully capable to go through the trial, wrote off his essay on a sheet
without effort, and handed it in first. As soon as he saw the name of
Lí, the examiner Yang did not even give himself time to glance over
the page, but with long strokes of his pencil erased the composition,
saying, “Such a scrawler as this is good for nothing but to grind my
ink!” “To grind your ink!” interrupted the other examiner Kao; “say
rather he is only fit to put on my stockings, and lace up my buskins.”
With these pleasantries, the essay of Lí was rejected; but he,
transported with anger at such a contemptuous refusal at the public
examination, returned home and exclaimed, “I swear that if ever my
wishes for promotion are accomplished, I will order Yang to grind my
ink, and Kao to put on my stockings and lace up my buskins; then my
vows will be accomplished.” Ho endeavored to calm the indignation of
the poet: “Stay here with me till a new examination is ordered in
three years, and live in plenty; the examiners will not be the same
then, and you will surely succeed.” They therefore continued to live
as they had done, drinking and making verses.
After many months had elapsed, some foreign ambassadors came to the
capital charged with a letter from their sovereign, whom he was
ordered to receive and entertain in the hall of ambassadors. The next
day the officers handed in their letter to his Majesty’s council,
who ordered the doctors to open and read it, but they could none of
them decipher a single word, humbly declaring it contained nothing
but fly-tracks; “your subjects,” they added, “have only a limited
knowledge, a shallow acquaintance with things; they are unable to
read a word.” On hearing this, the Emperor turned to the examiner
Yang and ordered him to read the letter, but his eyes wandered over
the characters as if he had been blind, and he knew nothing of them.
In vain did his Majesty address himself to the civil and military
officers who filled the court; not one among them could say whether
the letter contained words of good or evil import. Highly incensed,
he broke out in reproaches against the grandees of his palace:
“What! among so many magistrates, so many scholars and warriors,
cannot there be found a single one who knows enough to relieve us
of the vexation of this affair? If this letter cannot be read, how
can it be answered? If the ambassadors are dismissed in this style,
we shall be the ridicule of the barbarians, and foreign kings will
mock the court of Nanking, and doubtless follow it up by seizing
their lance and buckler and join to invade our frontiers. What then?
If in three days no one is able to decipher this letter, every one
of your appointments shall be suspended; if in six days you do not
tell me what it means, your offices shall every one be taken away;
and death shall execute justice on such ignorant men if I wait nine
days in vain for its explanation, and others of our subjects shall be
elevated to power whose virtue and talents will render some service
to their country.”
Terrified by these words, the grandees kept a mournful silence, and
no one ventured a single reply, which only irritated the monarch the
more. On his return home, Ho related to his friend Lí everything that
had transpired at court, who, hearing him with a mournful smile,
replied, “How to be regretted, how unlucky it is that I could not
obtain a degree at the examination last year, which would have given
me a magistracy; for now, alas! it is impossible for me to relieve
his Majesty of the chagrin which troubles him.” “But truly,” said Ho,
suddenly, “I think you are versed in more than one science, and will
be able to read this unlucky letter. I shall go to his Majesty and
propose you on my own responsibility.” The next day he went to the
palace, and passing through the crowd of courtiers, approached the
throne, saying, “Your subject presumes to announce to your Majesty
that there is a scholar of great merit called Lí, at his house, who
is profoundly acquainted with more than one science; command him to
read this letter, for there is nothing of which he is not capable.”
This advice pleased the Emperor, who presently sent a messenger to
the house of the academician, ordering him to present himself at
court. But Lí offered some objections: “I am a man still without
degree or title; I have neither talents nor information, while the
court abounds in civil and military officers, all equally famous
for their profound learning. How then can you have recourse to
such a contemptible and useless man as I? If I presume to accept
this behest, I fear that I shall deeply offend the nobles of the
palace”--referring especially to the premier Yang and the general
Kao. When his reply was announced to the Emperor, he demanded of
Ho why his guest did not come when ordered. Ho replied, “I can
assure your Majesty that Lí is a man of parts beyond all those of
the age, one whose compositions astonish all who read them. At the
trial of last year, his essay was marked out and thrown aside by
the examiners, and he himself shamefully put out of the hall. Your
Majesty now calling him to court, and he having neither title nor
rank, his self-love is touched; but if your Majesty would hear your
minister’s prayer, and shed your favors upon his friend, and send a
high officer to him, I am sure he will hasten to obey the imperial
will.” “Let it be so,” rejoined the Emperor; “at the instance of our
academician, we confer on Lí Peh the title of doctor of the first
rank, with the purple robe, yellow girdle, and silken bonnet; and
herewith also issue an order for him to present himself at court.
Our academician Ho will charge himself with carrying this order, and
bring Lí Peh to our presence without fail.”
Ho returned home to Lí, and begged him to go to court to read the
letter, adding how his Majesty depended on his help to relieve him
from his present embarrassment. As soon as he had put on his new
robes, which were those of a high examiner, he made his obeisance
toward the palace, and hastened to mount his horse and enter it,
following after the academician. Seated on his throne, Hwantsung
impatiently awaited the arrival of the poet, who, prostrating himself
before its steps, went through the ceremony of salutation and
acknowledgment for the favors he had received, and then stood in his
place. The Emperor, as soon as he saw Lí, rejoiced as poor men do on
finding a treasure, or starvelings on sitting at a loaded table; his
heart was like dark clouds suddenly illuminated, or parched and arid
soil on the approach of rain. “Some foreign ambassadors have brought
us a letter which no one can read, and we have sent for you, doctor,
to relieve our anxiety.” “Your minister’s knowledge is very limited,”
politely replied Lí, with a bow, “for his essay was rejected by the
judges at the examination, and lord Kao turned him out of doors. Now
that he is called upon to read this letter from a foreign prince,
how is it that the examiners are not charged with the answer, since,
too, the ambassadors have already been kept so long waiting? Since
I, a student turned off from the trial, could not satisfy the wishes
of the examiners, how can I hope to meet the expectation of your
Majesty?” “We know what you are good for,” said the Emperor; “a truce
to your excuses,” putting the letter into his hands. Running his eyes
over it, he disdainfully smiled, and standing before the throne, read
off in Chinese the mysterious letter, as follows:
“Letter from the mighty Ko To of the kingdom of Po Hai to the
prince of the dynasty of Tang: Since your usurpation of Corea,
and carrying your conquests to the frontiers of our States,
your soldiers have violated our territory in frequent raids.
We trust you can fully explain to us this matter, and as we
cannot patiently bear such a state of things, we have sent
our ambassadors to announce to you that you must give up the
hundred and sixty-six towns of Corea into our hands. We have
some precious things to offer you in compensation, namely, the
medicinal plants from the mountains of Tai Peh, and the byssus
from the southern sea, gongs of Tsíching, stags from Fuyu, and
horses from Sopin, silk of Wuchau, black fish from the river
Meito, prunes from Kiutu, and building materials from Loyu;
some of all these articles shall be sent you. If you do not
accept these propositions, we shall raise troops and carry war
and destruction into your borders, and then see on whose side
victory will remain.”
After its perusal, to which they had given an attentive ear, the
grandees were stupefied and looked at each other, knowing how
improbable it was that the Emperor would accept the propositions
of Ko To. Nor was the mind of his Majesty by any means satisfied,
and after remaining silent for some time, he turned himself to
the civil and military officers about him, and asked what means
were available to repulse the attacks of the barbarians in case
their forces invaded Corea. Scholars and generals remained mute
as idols of clay or statues of wood; no one said a word, until
Ho ventured to observe, “Your venerable grandfather Taitsung,
in three expeditions against Corea, lost an untold number of
soldiers, without succeeding in his enterprise, and impoverished
his treasury. Thanks to Heaven Kai-su-wăn died, and profiting by
the dissensions between the usurper’s sons, the glorious Emperor
Taitsung confided the direction of a million of veterans to the old
generals Lí Sié and Pí Jin-kwei, who, after a hundred engagements,
more or less important, finally conquered the kingdom. But now
having been at peace for a long time, we have neither generals
nor soldiers; if we seize the buckler and lance, it will not be
easy to resist, and our defeat will be certain. I await the wise
determination of your Majesty.”
“Since such is the case, what answer shall we make to the
ambassadors?” said Hwantsung. “Deign to ask Lí,” said the doctor;
“he will speak to the purpose.” On being interrogated by his
sovereign, Lí replied, “Let not this matter trouble your clear
mind. Give orders for an audience to the ambassadors, and I will
speak to them face to face in their own language. The terms of the
answer will make the barbarians blush, and their Ko To will be
obliged to make his respects at the foot of your throne.” “And who
is this Ko To?” demanded Hwantsung. “It is the name the people of
Po Hai give to their king after the usage of their country; just as
the Hwui Hwui call theirs Kokan; the Tibetans, Tsangpo; the Lochau,
Chau; the Holing, Sí-mo-wei: each one according to the custom of
his nation.”
At this rapid flood of explanations, the mind of the wise Hwantsung
experienced a lively joy, and the same day he honored Lí with
the title of an academician; a lodging was prepared for him in
the palace of the Golden Bell; musicians made the place re-echo
with their harmony; women poured out the wine, and young girls
handed him the goblets, and celebrated the glory of Lí with the
same voices that lauded the Emperor. What a delicious, ravishing
banquet! He could hardly keep within the limits of propriety,
but ate and drank until he was unconscious of anything, when the
Emperor ordered the attendants to carry him into the palace and lay
him on a bed.
The next morning, when the gong announced the fifth watch, the
Emperor repaired to the hall of audience; but Lí’s faculties, on
awaking, were not very clear, though the officers hastened to bring
him. When all had gone through their prostrations, Hwantsung called
the poet near him, but perceiving that the visage of the new-made
doctor still bore the marks of his debauch, and discovering the
discomposure of his mind, he sent into the kitchen for a little
wine and some well-spiced fish broth, to arouse the sleepy bard.
The servants presently sent it up on a golden tray, and the Emperor
seeing the cup was fuming, condescended to stir and cool the broth
a long time with the ivory chopsticks, and served it out himself to
Lí, who, receiving it on his knees, ate and drank, while a pleasing
joy illumined his countenance. While this was going on, some among
the courtiers were much provoked and displeased at the strange
familiarity, while others rejoiced to see how well the Emperor knew
to conciliate the good will of men. The two examiners, Yang and
Kao, betrayed in their features the dislike they felt.
At the command of the Emperor, the ambassadors were introduced, and
saluted his Majesty by acclamation, whilst Lí Tai-peh, clad in a
purple robe and silken bonnet, easy and gracious as an immortal,
stood in the historiographer’s place before the left of the throne,
holding the letter in his hand, and read it off in a clear tone,
without mistaking a word. Then turning toward the frightened
envoys, he said, “Your little province has failed in its etiquette,
but our wise ruler, whose power is comparable to the heavens for
vastness, disdains to take advantage of it. This is the answer
which he grants you: hear and be silent.” The terrified ambassadors
fell trembling at the foot of the throne. The Emperor had already
prepared near him an ornamented cushion, and taking a jade stone
with which to rub the ink, a pencil of leveret’s hair bound in an
ivory tube, a cake of perfumed ink, and a sheet of flowery paper,
gave them to Lí, and seated him on the cushion ready to draw up the
answer.
“May it please your Majesty,” objected Lí, “my boots are not at
all suitable, for they were soiled at the banquet last evening,
and I trust your Majesty in your generosity will grant me some new
buskins and stockings fit for ascending the platform.” The Emperor
acceded to his request, and ordered a servant to procure them;
when Lí resumed, “Your minister has still a word to add, and begs
beforehand that his untoward conduct may be excused; then he will
prefer his request.” “Your notions are misplaced and useless, but
I will not be offended at them; go on, speak,” said Hwantsung; to
which Lí, nothing daunted, said, “At the last examination, your
minister was turned off by Yang, and put out of doors by Kao. The
sight of these persons here to-day at the head of the courtiers
casts a certain discomposure over his spirits; let your voice deign
to command Yang to rub my ink, whilst Kao puts on my stockings and
laces up my buskins; then will my mind and wits begin to recover
their energies, and my pencil can trace your answer in the language
of the foreigners. In transmitting the reply in the name of the Son
of Heaven, he will then not disappoint the confidence with which he
is honored.” Afraid to displease Lí when he had need of him, the
Emperor gave the strange order; and while Yang rubbed the ink and
Kao put on the buskins of the poet, they could not help reflecting,
that this student, so badly received and treated by them, only
fit at the best to render such services to them, availed himself
now of the sudden favors of the Emperor to take their own words
pronounced against him as a text, and revenge himself upon them for
past injuries. But what could they do? They could not oppose the
sovereign will, and if they did feel chagrined, they did not dare
at least to express it. The proverb hath it true:
“Do not draw upon you a person’s enmity, for enmity is never
appeased; injury returns upon him who injures, and sharp words
recoil against him who says them.”
The poet triumphed, and his oath was accomplished. Buskined as he
desired, he mounted the platform on the carpet and seated himself
on the cushion, while Yang stood at his side and rubbed the ink.
Of a truth, the disparity was great between an ink-grinder and the
magnate who counselled the Emperor. But why did the poet sit while
the premier stood like a servant at his side? It was because Lí
was the organ of the monarch’s words, while Yang, reduced to act
the part of an ink-rubber, could not request permission to sit.
With one hand Lí stroked his beard, and seizing his pencil in the
other, applied it to the paper, which was soon covered with strange
characters, well turned and even without a fault or rasure, and
then laid it upon the dragon’s table. The Emperor gazed at it in
amaze, for it was identical with that of the barbarians; not a
character in it resembled the Chinese; and as he handed it about
among the nobles, their surprise was great. When requested to read
it, Lí, placed before the throne, read in a clear loud tone the
answer to the strangers:
“The mighty Emperor of the Tang dynasty, whose reign is called
Kiayuen, sends his instructions to Ko To of the Po Hai.
“From ancient times the rock and the egg have not hit each
other, nor the serpent and dragon made war. Our dynasty, favored
by fate, extends its power, and reigns even to the four seas; it
has under its orders brave generals and tried soldiers, solid
bucklers and glittering swords. Your neighbor, King Hiehlí, who
refused our alliance, was taken prisoner; but the people of
Putsau, after offering a present of a metal bird, took an oath
of obedience.
“The Sinlo, at the southern end of Corea, have sent us praises
written on the finest tissues of silk; Persia, serpents which
can catch rats; India, birds that can speak; and Rome, dogs
which lead horses, holding a lantern in their mouth; the white
parrot is a present from the kingdom of Koling, the carbuncle
which illumines the night comes from Cambodia, and famous horses
are sent by the tribe of Kolí, while precious vases are brought
from Níal: in short, there is not a nation which does not
respect our imposing power, and does not testify their regard
for the virtue which distinguishes us. Corea alone resisted the
will of Heaven, but the divine vengeance has fallen heavily upon
it, and a kingdom which reckoned nine centuries of duration was
overthrown as in a morning. Why, then, do you not profit by the
terrible prognostics Heaven vouchsafes you as examples? Would it
not evince your sagacity?
“Moreover, your little country, situated beyond the peninsula,
is little more than as a province of Corea, or as a principality
to the Celestial Empire; your resources in men and horses are
not a millionth part those of China. You are like a chafed
locust trying to stop a chariot, like a stiff-necked goose which
will not submit. Under the arms of our warriors your blood will
run a thousand _lí_. You, prince, resemble that audacious one
who refused our alliance, and whose kingdom became annexed to
Corea. The designs of our sage Emperor are vast as the ocean,
and he now bears with your culpable and unreasonable conduct;
but hasten to prevent misfortune by repentance, and cheerfully
pay the tribute of each year, and you will prevent the shame and
opprobrium which will cover you and expose you to the ridicule
of your neighbors. Reflect thrice on these instructions.”
The reading of this answer filled the Emperor with joy, who ordered
Lí to make known its contents to the ambassadors; he then sealed
it with the imperial seal. The poet called Kao to put on the
boots which he had taken off, and he then returned to the palace
of Golden Bells to inform the envoys concerning his sovereign’s
orders, reading the letter to them in a loud tone, while they heard
tremblingly. The academician Ho reconducted them to the gates of
the capital, and there the ambassadors asked who it was who had
read the imperial instructions. “He is called Lí, and has the
title of Doctor of the Hanlin.” “But among so many dignitaries,
why did the first Minister of State rub his ink, and the general
of the guards lace up his buskins?” “Hear,” added Ho; “those two
personages are indeed intimate ministers of his Majesty, but they
are only noble courtiers who do not transcend common humanity,
while Doctor Lí, on the contrary, is an immortal descended from
heaven on the earth to aid the sovereign of the Celestial Empire.
How can any one equal him?” The ambassadors bowed the head and
departed, and on their return rendered an account of their mission
to their sovereign. On reading the answer of Lí, the Ko To was
terrified, and deliberated with his counsellors: “The Celestial
Empire is upheld by an immortal descended from the skies! Is it
possible to attack it?” He thereupon wrote a letter of submission,
testifying his desire to send tribute each year, which was
thenceforth allowed.
Lí Tai-peh afterward drowned himself from fear of the machinations
of his enemies, exclaiming, as he leaped into the water, “I’m going
to catch the moon in the midst of the sea!”
The poetry of the Chinese has been investigated by Sir John Davis,
and the republication of his first paper in an enlarged form in 1870,
with the versification of Legge’s translations of the _Shí King_
by his nephew, and two volumes of various pieces by Stent, have
altogether given a good variety.[338] Davis explains the principles of
Chinese rhythm, touches upon the tones, notices the parallelisms, and
distinguishes the various kinds of verse, all in a scholarly manner.
The whole subject, however, still awaits more thorough treatment.
Artificial poetry, where the sound and jingle is regarded more than
the sense, is not uncommon; the great number of characters having the
same sound enables versifiers to do this with greater facility than is
possible in other languages, and to the serious degradation of all high
sentiment. The absence of inflections in the words cripples the easy
flow of sounds to which our ears are familiar, but renders such lines
as the following more spirited to the eye which sees the characters
than to the ear which hears them:
_Liang kiang, siang niang, yang hiang tsiang,
Ki ní, pí chí, lí hí mí_, etc.
Lines consisting of characters all containing the same radical are also
constructed in this manner, in which the sounds are subservient to the
meaning. This bizarre fashion of writing is, however, considered fit
only for pedants.
The Augustan age of poetry and letters was in the ninth and tenth
centuries, during the Tang dynasty, when the brightest day of Chinese
civilization was the darkest one of European. No complete collection of
poems has yet been translated into any European language, and perhaps
none would bear an entire version. The poems of Lí Tai-peh form thirty
volumes, and those of Su Tung-po are contained in one hundred and
fifteen volumes, while the collected poems of the times of the Tang
dynasty have been published by imperial authority in nine hundred
volumes. The proportion of descriptive poetry in it is small compared
with the sentimental. The longest poem yet turned into English is the
_Hwa Tsien Kí_, or ‘The Flower’s Petal,’ by P. P. Thoms, under the
title of _Chinese Courtship_; it is in heptameter, and his version is
quite prosaic. Another of much greater repute among native scholars,
called _Lí Sao_, or ‘Dissipation of Sorrows,’ dating from about B.C.
314, has been rendered into French by D’Hervey-Saint-Denys.[339]
~CHINESE SONGS AND BALLADS.~
It is a common pastime for literary gentlemen to try their skill in
versification; epigrams and pasquinades are usually put into metre, and
at the examinations every candidate must hand in his poetical exercise.
Consequently, much more attention is paid by such rhymesters to the
jingle of the words and artificial structure of the lines than to the
elevation of sentiment or copiousness of illustrations; it is as easy
for them to write a sonnet on shipping a cargo of tea as to indite a
love-epistle to their mistress. Extemporaneous verses are made on every
subject, and to illustrate occurrences that are elsewhere regarded as
too prosaic to disturb the muse.
Still, human emotions have been the stimulus to their expression in
verse among the Chinese as well as other people; and all classes
have found an utterance to them. Ribald and impure ditties are sung
by street-singers to their own low classes, but such subjects do not
characterize the best poets, as they did in old Rome. A piece called
‘Chang Liang’s Flute’ is a fair instance of the better style of songs:
’Twas night--the tired soldiers were peacefully sleeping,
The low hum of voices was hushed in repose;
The sentries, in silence, a strict watch were keeping
’Gainst surprise or a sudden attack of their foes;
When a low mellow note on the night air came stealing,
So soothingly over the senses it fell--
So touchingly sweet--so soft and appealing,
Like the musical tones of an aërial bell.
Now rising, now falling--now fuller and clearer--
Now liquidly soft--now a low wailing cry;
Now the cadences seem floating nearer and nearer--
Now dying away in a whispering sigh.
Then a burst of sweet music, so plaintively thrilling,
Was caught up by the echoes which sang the refrains
In their many-toned voices--the atmosphere filling
With a chorus of dulcet mysterious strains.
The sleepers arouse, and with beating hearts listen;
In their dreams they had heard that weird music before;
It touches each heart--with tears their eyes glisten,
For it tells them of those they may never see more.
In fancy those notes to their childhood’s days brought them,
To those far-away scenes they had not seen for years;
To those who had loved them, had reared them, and taught them,
And the eyes of those stern men were wetted with tears.
Bright visions of home through their mem’ries came thronging,
Panorama-like passing in front of their view;
They were _home-sick_--no power could withstand that strange yearning;
The longer they listened the more home-sick they grew.
Whence came those sweet sounds?--who the unseen musician
That breathes out his soul, which floats on the night breeze
In melodious sighs--in strains so elysian
As to soften the hearts of rude soldiers like these?
Each looked at the other, but no word was spoken,
The music insensibly tempting them on:
They must return home. Ere the daylight had broken
The enemy looked, and behold! they were gone.
There’s a magic in music--a witchery in it,
Indescribable either with tongue or with pen;
The flute of Chang Liang, in one little minute,
Had stolen the courage of eight thousand men![340]
~SPECIMEN OF AN EXTEMPORE SONNET.~
The following verses were presented to Dr. Parker at Canton by a
Chinese gentleman of some literary attainments, upon the occasion of a
successful operation for cataract. The original may be considered as a
very creditable example of extempore sonnet:
A fluid, darksome and opaque, long time had dimmed my sight,
For seven revolving, weary years one eye was lost to light;
The other, darkened by a film, during three years saw no day,
High heaven’s bright and gladd’ning light could not pierce it with its ray.
Long, long I sought the hoped relief, but still I sought in vain,
My treasures lavished in the search, brought no relief from pain;
Till, at length, I thought my garments I must either pawn or sell,
And plenty in my house, I feared, was never more to dwell.
Then loudly did I ask, for what cause such pain I bore--
For transgressions in a former life unatoned for before?
But again came the reflection how, of yore, oft men of worth,
For slight errors, had borne suff’ring great as drew my sorrow forth.
“And shall not one,” said I then, “whose worth is but as naught,
Bear patiently, as heaven’s gift, what it ordains?” The thought
Was scarce completely formed, when of a friend the footstep fell
On my threshold, and I breathed a hope he had words of joy to tell.
“I’ve heard,” the friend who enter’d said, “there’s come to us of late
A native of the ‘Flowery Flag’s’ far-off and foreign State;
O’er tens of thousand miles of sea to the Inner Land he’s come--
His hope and aim to heal men’s pain, he leaves his native home.”
I quick went forth, this man I sought, this gen’rous doctor found;
He gained my heart, he’s kind and good; for, high up from the ground,
He gave a room, to which he came, at morn, at eve, at night--
Words were but vain were I to try his kindness to recite.
With needle argentine he pierced the cradle of the tear.
What fears I felt! Su Tung-po’s words rung threat’ning in my ear:
“Glass hung in mist,” the poet says, “take heed you do not shake;”
(The words of fear rung in my ear), “how if it chance to break!”
The fragile lens his needle pierced: the dread, the sting, the pain,
I thought on these, and that the cup of sorrow I must drain;
But then my mem’ry faithful showed the work of fell disease,
How long the orbs of sight were dark, and I deprived of ease.
And thus I thought: “If now, indeed, I were to find relief,
’Twere not too much to bear the pain, to bear the present grief.”
Then the words of kindness which I heard sunk deep into my soul,
And free from fear I gave myself to the foreigner’s control.
His silver needle sought the lens, and quickly from it drew
The opaque and darksome fluid, whose effect so well I knew;
His golden probe soon clear’d the lens, and then my eyes he bound,
And laved with water sweet as is the dew to thirsty ground.
Three days thus lay I, prostrate, still; no food then could I eat;
My limbs relax’d were stretched as though th’ approach of death to meet
With thoughts astray--mind ill at ease--away from home and wife,
I often thought that by a thread was hung my precious life.
Three days I lay, no food had I, and nothing did I feel;
Nor hunger, sorrow, pain, nor hope, nor thought of woe or weal;
My vigor fled, my life seemed gone, when, sudden, in my pain,
There came one ray--one glimm’ring ray,--I see,--I live again!
As starts from visions of the night he who dreams a fearful dream,
As from the tomb uprushing comes one restored to day’s bright beam,
Thus I, with gladness and surprise, with joy, with keen delight,
See friends and kindred crowd around; I hail the blessed light.
With grateful heart, with heaving breast, with feelings flowing o’er,
I cried, “O lead me quick to him who can the sight restore!”
To kneel I tried, but he forbade; and, forcing me to rise,
“To mortal man bend not the knee;” then pointing to the skies:--
“I’m but,” said he, “the workman’s tool; another’s is the hand;
Before _his_ might, and in _his_ sight, men, feeble, helpless, stand:
Go, virtue learn to cultivate, and never thou forget
That for some work of future good thy life is spared thee yet!”
The off’ring, token of my thanks, he refused; nor would he take
Silver or gold--they seemed as dust; ’tis but for virtue’s sake
His works are done. His skill divine I ever must adore,
Nor lose remembrance of his name till life’s last day is o’er.
Thus have I told, in these brief words, this learned doctor’s praise:
Well does his worth deserve that I should tablets to him raise.
~LAMENT OF THE POETESS SU-HWUI.~
In this facility of versification lies one of the reasons for the
mediocrity of common Chinese poetry, but that does not prevent its
power over the popular mind being very great. Men and women of all
classes take great delight in recitation and singing, hearing street
musicians or strolling play-actors; and these results, whatever we may
judge by our standards, prove its power and suitableness to influence
them. One or two additional specimens on different subjects may be
quoted, inasmuch as they also illustrate some of the better shades of
feeling and sentiment. A more finished piece of poetry is one written
about A.D. 370, by Su-Hwui, whose husband was banished. Its talented
authoress is said to have written more than five thousand lines, and
among them a curious anagram of about eight hundred characters, which
was so disposed that it would make sense equally well when read up
or down, cross-wise, backward, or forward.[341] Nothing from her pen
remains except this ode, interesting for its antiquity as well as
sentiment.
ODE OF SU-HWUI.
When thou receiv’dst the king’s command to quiet the frontier,
Together to the bridge we went, striving our hearts to cheer--
Hiding our grief. These words I gasped upon that mournful day:
“Forget not, love, my fond embrace, nor tarry long away!”
Ah! Is it true that since that time no message glads my sight?
Think you that _now_ your lone wife’s heart even in bright spring delights?
Our pearly stairs and pleasant yard the foul weeds have o’ergrown;
Our nuptial room--and couch--and walls--are now with dust o’erstrown.
Whene’er I think of our farewell, my soul with fear grows cold;
My mind resolves what shape I’d take to see thee as of old.
Now as I watch the deep-sea moon, I long her form to be;
Again, the mountain cloud has filled my dull heart with envy.
For deep-sea moon shines year by year upon the land abroad;
And ye, O mountain clouds, may meet the form of my adored!
Aye, flying here and flying there, seek my beloved’s place,
And at ten thousand thousand miles--speed!--gaze on his fair face.
Alas! for _me_ the road is long, steep mountain peaks now sever
Our loving souls. I can but weep--O! may’t not be forever!
The long reed’s leaves had yellow grown when we our farewell said;
Who then had thought the plum-tree’s bough so oft would turn to red?
The fairy flowers spreading their leaves have met the early spring--
Ah, genial months, what time for love!--But who can ease _my_ sting?
The pendant willows strew the court, for thee I pull them down;
The falling flowers enrich the earth, none pick these from the ground
And scatter vernal growth, as once, before the ancestral tomb!
Taking the lute of Tsun I strive to chase away the gloom
By thrumming, as I muse of thee, songs of departed friends.
Sending my inmost thoughts away, they reach the northern ends--
Those northern bounds!--how far they seem, o’erpassed the hills and streams.
No news, no word from those confines to lighten e’en my dreams!
My dress, my pillow, once so white, are deeply stained with tears;
My broidered coat with gilded flowers, all spotted now appears.
The very geese and storks to me, when in their passage north,
Seemed by their cries, my distant love, to tear my heartstrings forth.
No more my lute--though thou wert strong, with passion was I wrung;
My grief was its utmost bent--my song was still unsung.
Ah! husband, lord, thy love I feel is stable as the hills;
’Tis joy to think each hour of this--a balm for countless ills!
I had but woven half my task--I gave it to his Grace:
O grant my husband quick release, I pine for his embrace!
~THE TEA-PICKER’S BALLAD.~
Among the best of Chinese ballads, if regard be had to the character of
the sentiment and metaphors, is one on Picking Tea, which the girls and
women sing as they collect the leaves.
BALLAD OF THE TEA-PICKER.
I.
Where thousand hills the vale enclose, our little hut is there,
And on the sloping sides around the tea grows everywhere;
And I must rise at early dawn, as busy as can be,
To get my daily labor done, and pluck the leafy tea.
II.
At early dawn I seize my crate, and sighing, Oh, for rest!
Thro’ the thick mist I pass the door, with sloven hair half drest;
The dames and maidens call to me, as hand in hand they go,
“What steep do you, miss, climb to-day--what steep of high Sunglo?”
III.
Dark is the sky, the twilight dim still on the hills is set;
The dewy leaves and cloudy buds may not be gathered yet:
Oh, who are they, the thirsty ones, for whom this work we do,
For whom we spend our daily toil in bands of two and two?
IV.
Like fellows we each other aid, and to each other say,
As down we pull the yielding twigs, “Sweet sister, don’t delay;
E’en now the buds are growing old, all on the boughs atop,
And then to-morrow--who can tell?--the drizzling rain may drop.”
V.
We’ve picked enow; the topmost bough is bare of leaves; and so
We lift our brimming loads, and by the homeward path we go;
In merry laughter by the pool, the lotus pool, we hie,
When hark! uprise a mallard pair, and hence affrighted fly.
VI.
Limpid and clear the pool, and there how rich the lotus grows,
And only half its opening leaves, round as the coins, it shows--
I bend me o’er the jutting brink, and to myself I say,
“I marvel in the glassy stream, how looks my face to-day?”
VII.
My face is dirty; out of trim my hair is, and awry;
Oh, tell me, where’s the little girl so ugly now as I?
’Tis all because whole weary hours I’m forced to pick the tea,
And driving winds and soaking showers have made me what you see!
VIII.
With morn again come wind and rain, and though so fierce and strong,
With basket big, and little hat, I wend my way along;
At home again, when all is picked, and everybody sees
How muddy all our dresses are, and drabbled to the knees.
IX.
I saw this morning through the door a pleasant day set in;
Be sure I quickly dressed my hair and neatly fixed my pin,
And fleetly sped I down the path to gain the wonted spot,
But, never thinking of the mire, my working shoes forgot!
X.
The garden reached, my bow-shaped shoes are soaking through and through;
The sky is changed--the thunder rolls--and I don’t know what to do;
I’ll call my comrades on the hill to pass the word with speed
And fetch my green umbrella-hat to help me in my need.
XI.
But my little hat does little good; my plight is very sad!
I stand with clothes all dripping wet, like some poor fisher-lad;
Like him I have a basket, too, of meshes woven fine--
A fisher-lad, if I only had his fishing-rod and line.
XII.
The rain is o’er; the outer leaves their branching fibres show;
Shake down the branch, the fragrant scent about us ’gins to blow;
Gather the yellow golden threads that high and low are found--
Oh, what a precious odor now is wafted all around!
XIII.
No sweeter perfume does the wild and fair Aglaia shed,
Throughout Wu-yuen’s bounds my tea the choicest will be said;
When all are picked we’ll leave the shoots to bud again in spring,
But for this morning we have done the third, last gathering.
XIV.
Oh, weary is our picking, yet do I my toil withhold?
My maiden locks are all askew, my pearly fingers cold;
I only wish our tea to be superior over all,
O’er this one’s “sparrow-tongue,” and o’er the other’s “dragon-ball.”
XV.
Oh, for a month I weary strive to find a leisure day;
I go to pick at early dawn, and until dusk I stay;
Till midnight at the firing-pan I hold my irksome place:
But will not labor hard as this impair my pretty face?
XVI.
But if my face be somewhat lank, more firm shall be my mind;
I’ll fire my tea that all else shall be my golden buds behind;
But yet the thought arises who the pretty maid shall be
To put the leaves in jewelled cup, from thence to sip my tea.
XVII.
Her griefs all flee as she makes her tea, and she is glad; but oh,
Where shall she learn the toils of us who labor for her so?
And shall she know of the winds that blow, and the rains that pour
their wrath,
And drench and soak us thro’ and thro’, as plunged into a bath?
XVIII.
In driving rains and howling winds the birds forsake the nest,
Yet many a loving pair are seen still on the boughs to rest;
Oh, wherefore, loved one, with light look, didst thou send me away?
I cannot, grieving as I grieve, go through my work to-day.
XIX.
But though my bosom rise and fall, like bucket in a well,
Patient and toiling as I am, ’gainst work I’ll ne’er rebel;
My care shall be to have my tea fired to a tender brown,
And let the _flag_ and _awl_, well rolled, display their whitish down.[342]
XX.
Ho! for my toil! Ho! for my steps! Aweary though I be,
In our poor house, for working folk, there’s lots of work, I see;
When the firing and the drying’s done, off at the call I go,
And once again, this very morn, I climb the high Sunglo.
XXI.
My wicker basket slung on arm, and hair entwined with flowers,
To the slopes I go of high Sunglo, and pick the tea for hours;
How laugh we, sisters, on the road; what a merry turn we’ve got;
I giggle and say, as I point down the way, There, look, there lies our cot!
XXII.
Your handmaid ’neath the sweet green shade in sheltered cot abides,
Where the pendant willow’s sweeping bough the thatchy dwelling hides;
To-morrow, if you wish it so, my guests I pray you’ll be!
The door you’ll know by the fragrant scent, the scent of the firing tea.
XXIII.
Awhile ’tis cold, and then ’tis warm, when I want to fire my tea,
The sky is sure to shift and change--and all to worry me;
When the sun goes down on the western hills, on the eastern there is rain!
And however fair he promises, he promises in vain.
XXIV.
To-day the tint of the western hills is looking bright and fair,
And I bear my crate to the stile,[343] and wait my fellow toiler there;
A little tender lass is she--she leans upon the rail
And sleeps, and though I hail her she answers not my hail.
XXV.
And when at length to my loudest call she murmurs a reply,
’Tis as if hard to conquer sleep, and with half-opened eye;
Up starts she, and with straggling steps along the path she’s gone;
She brings her basket, but forgets to put the cover on!
XXVI.
Together trudge we, and we pass the lodge of the southern bowers,
Where the beautiful sea-pomegranate waves all its yellow flowers;
Fain would we stop and pluck a few to deck our tresses gay,
But the tree is high, and ’tis vain to try and reach the tempting spray.
XXVII.
The pretty birds upon the boughs sing songs so sweet to hear,
And the sky is so delicious now, half cloudy and half clear;
While bending o’er her work, each maid will prattle of her woe,
And we talk till our hearts are sorely hurt, and tears unstinted flow.
XXVIII.
Our time is up, and yet not full our baskets to the mouth--
The twigs anorth are fully searched, let’s seek them in the south;
Just then by chance I snapped a twig whose leaves were all apair;
See, with my taper fingers now I fix it in my hair.
XXIX.
Of all the various kinds of tea, the bitter beats the sweet,
But for whomever either seeks, for him I’ll find a treat;
Though who it is shall drink them, as bitter or sweet they be,
I know not, my friend--but the pearly end of my finger only see!
XXX.
Ye twittering swallows, rise and fall in your flight around the hill,
But when next I go to the high Sunglo, I’ll change my gown--I will;
And I’ll roll up the cuff and show arm enough, for my arm is fair to see:
Oh, if ever there were a fair round arm, that arm belongs to me!
~CHINESE DRAMAS AND BURLETTAS.~
In the department of plays and dramas, Chinese literature shows a
long list of names, few or none of which have ever been heard of away
from their native soil. Some of their pieces have been translated by
Julien, Bazin, Davis, and others, most of which were selected from the
_Hundred Plays of Yuen_. The origin of the present Chinese drama does
not date back, according to M. Bazin, beyond the Tang dynasty, though
many performances designed to be played and sung in pantomime had been
written before that epoch. He cites the names of eighty-one persons,
besides mentioning other plays of unknown authors, whose combined
writings amount to five hundred and sixty-four separate plays; all of
whom flourished during the Mongol dynasty. The plays that have been
translated from this collection give a tolerably good idea of Chinese
talent in this difficult department; and, generally speaking, whatever
strictures may be made upon the management of the plot, exhibition of
character, unity of action, or illustration of manners, the tendency
of the play is on the side of justice and morality. Père Prémare
first translated a play in 1731, under the title of the _Orphan of
Chau_,[344] which was taken by Voltaire as the groundwork of one of
his plays. _The Heir in Old Age_ and the _Sorrows of Han_ are the
names of two translated by Sir J. F. Davis. The _Circle of Chalk_ was
translated and published in 1832 by Julien, and a volume of Bazin,
ainé, containing the _Intrigues of an Abigail_, the _Compared Tunic_,
the _Songstress_, and _Resentment of Tau Ngo_, appeared in 1838, at
Paris. None of these pieces exhibit much intricacy of plot, nor would
the simple arrangements of Chinese theatres allow much increase to the
_dramatis personæ_ without confusion. M. Bazin, moreover, translated
the _Pí-pa Kí_, or _History of a Lute_, a drama in twenty-four acts,
of more pretensions, partaking of the novel as well as the drama; the
play is said to have been represented at Peking in 1404, under the Ming
dynasty.[345]
~THE MENDER OF CHINAWARE--A FARCE.~
Besides plays in the higher walks of the drama, which form the
principal part of the performances at theatres, there are by-plays or
farces, which, being confined to two or three interlocutors, depend for
their attractiveness upon the droll gesticulations, impromptu allusions
to passing occurrences, and excellent pantomimic action of the
performers. They are usually brought on at the conclusion of the bill,
and from the freedom given in them to an exhibition of the humor or wit
of the players, are much liked by the people. A single illustration
will exhibit the simple range and character of these burlettas.
THE MENDER OF CRACKED CHINAWARE.
DRAMATIS PERSONÆ. { _Niu Chau_ A wandering tinker.
{ _Wang Niang_ A young girl.
_Scene--A Street._
NIU CHAU _enters--across his shoulder is a bamboo, to each end of
which are suspended boxes containing the various tools and implements
of his trade, and a small stool. He is dressed meanly; his face and
head are painted and decorated in a fantastic manner._
(_Sings_) Seeking a livelihood by the work of my hands,
Daily do I traverse the streets of the city.
(_Speaks_) Well, here I am, a mender of broken jars,
An unfortunate victim of ever changing plans.
To repair old fractured jars
Is my sole occupation and support.
’Tis even so. I have no other employment.
(_Takes his boxes from his shoulder, places them on the ground, sits
beside them, and drawing out his fan, continues speaking_)--
A disconsolate old man--I am a slave to inconveniences.
For several days past I have been unable to go abroad,
But, observing this morning a clear sky and fine air,
I was induced to recommence my street wanderings.
(_Sings_) At dawn I left my home,
But as yet have had no job.
Hither and yon, and on all sides,
From the east gate to the west,
From the south gate to the north,
And all over within the walls,
Have I been, but no one has called
For the mender of cracked jars. Unfortunate man!
But this being my first visit to the city of Nanking,
Some extra exertion is necessary;
Time is lost sitting idle here, and so to roam again I go.
(_Shoulders his boxes and stool, and walks about, crying_)--
Plates mended! Bowls mended!
Jars and pots neatly repair’d!
_Lady Wang_ (_heard within_). Did I not hear the cry of the
mender of cracked jars?
I’ll open the door and look. (_She enters, looking around._)
Yes, there comes the repairer of jars.
_Niu Chau._ Pray, have you a jar to mend?
I have long been seeking a job.
Did you not call?
_Lady W._ What is your charge for a large jar--
And how much for a small one?
_Niu Chau._ For large jars, one mace five.
_Lady W._ And for small ones?
_Niu Chau._ Fifty pair of cash.
_Lady W._ To one mace five, and fifty pair of cash,
Add nine candareens, and a new jar may be had.
_Niu Chau._ What, then, will you give?
_Lady W._ I will give one candareen for either size.
_Niu Chau._ Well, lady, how many cash can I get for this candareen?
_Lady W._ Why, if the price be high, you will get eight cash.
_Niu Chau._ And if low?
_Lady W._ You will get but seven cash and a half.
_Niu Chau._ Oh, you wicked, tantalizing thing!
(_Sings_) Since leaving home this morning,
I have met but with a trifler,
Who, in the shape of an old wife,
Tortures and gives me no job;
I’ll shoulder again my boxes, and continue my walk,
And never again will I return to the house of Wang.
(_He moves off slowly._)
_Lady W._ Jar-mender! return, quickly return; with a loud voice, I
entreat you; for I have something on which I wish to consult
with you.
_Niu Chau._ What is it on which you wish to consult me?
_Lady W._ I will give you a hundred cash to mend a large jar.
_Niu Chau._ And for mending a small one?
_Lady W._ And for mending a small one, thirty pair of cash.
_Niu Chau._ One hundred, and thirty pair!--truly, lady, this is worth
consulting about.
Lady Wang, where shall I mend them?
_Lady W._ Follow me. (_They move toward the door of the house._)
(_Sings_) Before walks the Lady Wang.
_Niu Chau._ And behind comes the _pu-kang_ (or jar-mender).
_Lady W._ Here, then, is the place.
_Niu Chau._ Lady Wang, permit me to pay my respects.
(_Bows repeatedly in a ridiculous manner._)
We can exchange civilities.
I congratulate you; may you prosper--before and behind.
_Lady W._ Here is the jar; now go to work and mend it.
(_Takes the jar in his hand and tosses it about, examining it._)
_Niu Chau._ This jar has certainly a very appalling fracture.
_Lady W._ Therefore, it requires the more care in mending.
_Niu Chau._ That is self-evident.
_Lady W._ Now, Lady Wang will retire again to her dressing room,
And, after closing the door, will resume her toilet.
Her appearance she will beautify;
On the left, her hair she will comb into a dragon’s head tuft,
On the right, she will arrange it tastefully with flowers;
Her lips she will color with blood-red vermilion,
And a gem of chrysoprase will she place in the dragon’s head tuft.
Then, having completed her toilet, she will return to the door,
And sit down to look at the jar-mender. (_Exit._)
(_Niu Chau sits down, straps the jar on his knee, and arranges
his tools before him, and as he drills holes for the clamps,
sings_)--
Every hole drilled requires a pin,
And every two holes drilled require pins a pair.
As I raise my head and look around,
(_At this moment Lady Wang re-enters, beautifully dressed,
and sits down by the door._)
There sits, I see, a delicate young lady;
Before she had the appearance of an old wife,
Now she is transformed into a handsome young girl.
On the left, her hair is comb’d into a dragon’s head tuft;
On the right it is adorn’d tastefully with flowers.
Her lips are like plums, her mouth is all smiles,
Her eyes are as brilliant as the phœnix’s; and
She stands on golden lilies, but two inches long.
I look again, another look,--down drops the jar.
(_The jar at this moment falls, and is broken to pieces._)
(_Speaks_) Heigh-ya! Here then is a dreadful smash!
_Lady W._ You have but to replace it with another, and do so quickly.
_Niu Chau._ For one that was broken, a good one must be given.
Had two been broken, then were a pair to be supplied;
An old one being smashed, a new one must replace it.
_Lady W._ You have destroyed the jar, and return me nothing but words.
Give me a new one, then you may return home,--not before.
_Niu Chau._ Here upon my knees upon the hard ground, I beg Lady Wang,
while she sits above, to listen to a few words. Let me receive pardon
for the accident her beauty has occasioned, and I will at once make
her my wife.
_Lady W._ Impudent old man! How presume to think
That I ever can become your wife!
_Niu Chau._ Yes, it is true, I am somewhat older than Lady Wang,
Yet would I make her my wife.
_Lady W._ No matter then for the accident, but leave me now at once.
_Niu Chau._ Since you have forgiven me, I again shoulder my boxes,
And I will go elsewhere in search of a wife.
And here, before high heaven, I swear never again to come near the
house of Wang.
You a great lady! You are but a vile ragged girl,
And will yet be glad to take up with a much worse companion.
(_Going away, he suddenly throws off his upper dress, and
appears as a handsome young man._)
_Lady W._ Henceforth, give up your wandering profession,
And marrying me, quit the trade of a jar-mender.
With the Lady Wang pass happily the remainder of your life.
(_They embrace, and exeunt._)
~DEFICIENCIES AND LIMITS OF CHINESE LITERATURE.~
Such is the general range and survey of Chinese literature, according
to the Catalogue of the Imperial Libraries. It is, take it in a mass,
a stupendous monument of human toil, fitly compared, so far as it is
calculated to instruct its readers in useful knowledge, to their Great
Wall, which can neither protect from its enemies, nor be of any real
use to its makers. Its deficiencies are glaring. No treatises on the
geography of foreign countries nor truthful narratives of travels
abroad are contained in it, nor any account of the languages of their
inhabitants, their history, or their governments. Philological works in
other languages than those spoken within the Empire are unknown, and
must, owing to the nature of the language, remain so until foreigners
prepare them. Works on natural history, medicine, and physiology are
few and useless, while those on mathematics and the exact sciences
are much less popular and useful than they might be; and in the great
range of theology, founded on the true basis of the Bible, there is
almost nothing. The character of the people has been mostly formed
by their ancient books, and this correlate influence has tended to
repress independent investigation in the pursuit of truth, though not
to destroy it. A new infusion of science, religion, and descriptive
geography and history will lead to comparison with other countries, and
bring out whatever in it is good.
A survey of this body of literature shows the effect of governmental
patronage, in maintaining its character for what appears to us to be
a wearisome uniformity. New ideas, facts, and motives must now come
from the outer world, which will gradually elevate the minds of the
people above the same unvarying channel. If the scholar knows that the
goal he strives for is to be attained by proficiency in the single
channel of classical knowledge, he cannot be expected to attend to
other studies until he has secured the prize. A knowledge of medicine,
mathematics, geography, or foreign languages, might, indeed, do the
candidate much more good than all he gets out of the classics, but
knowledge is not his object; and where all run the same race, all must
study the same works. But let there be a different programme of themes
and essays, and a wider range of subjects required of the students, and
the present system of governmental examinations in China, with all its
imperfections, can be made of great benefit to the people, if it is not
put to a strain too great for the end in view.
~CHINESE PROVERBS.~
The Chinese are fond of proverbs and aphorisms. They employ them in
their writings and conversation as much as any people, and adorn
their houses by copying them upon elegant scrolls, carving them upon
pillars, and embroidering them upon banners. A complete collection of
the proverbs of the Chinese has never been made, even among the people
themselves any more than among those of other lands. Davis published,
in 1828, a volume called _Moral Maxims_, containing two hundred
aphorisms; P. Perny issued an assortment of four hundred and forty-one
in 1869; and J. Doolittle collected several hundred proverbs, signs,
couplets, and scrolls in his _Vocabulary_. Besides these, a collection
of two thousand seven hundred and twenty proverbs was published in 1875
by W. Scarborough, furnished with a good index, and, like the others
noted here, with the original text. Davis mentions the _Ming Sin Pao
Kien_, or ‘Jewelled Mirror for Illumining the Mind,’ as containing a
large number of proverbs. The _Ku Sz’ Kiung Lin_, or ‘Coral Forest of
Ancient Matters,’ is a similar collection; but if that be compared
to a dictionary of quotations, this is better likened to a classical
dictionary, the notes which follow the sentences leaving the reader in
no doubt as to their meaning.
Manuscript lists of sentences suitable for hanging upon doors or in
parlors are collected by persons who write them at New Year’s, and
whose success depends upon their facility in quoting elegant couplets.
The following selection will exhibit to some extent this branch of
Chinese wisdom and wit:
Not to distinguish properly between the beautiful and ugly, is like
attaching a dog’s tail to a squirrel’s body.
An avaricious man, who can never have enough, is as a serpent wishing
to swallow an elephant.
While one misfortune is going, to have another coming, is like
driving a tiger out of the front door, while a wolf is entering the
back.
The tiger’s cub cannot be caught without going into his den.
To paint a snake and add legs. (Exaggeration.)
To sketch a tiger and make it a dog, is to imitate a work of genius
and spoil it.
To ride a fierce dog to catch a lame rabbit. (Useless power over a
contemptible enemy.)
To attack a thousand tigers with ten men. (To attempt a difficulty
with incommensurate means.)
To cut off a hen’s head with a battle-axe. (Unnecessary valor.)
To cherish a bad man is like nourishing a tiger; if not well fed he
will devour you: or like rearing a hawk; if hungry he will stay by
you, but fly away when fed.
To instigate a villain to do wrong is like teaching a monkey to climb
trees.
To catch a fish and throw away the net;--not to requite benefits.
To take a locust’s shank for the shaft of a carriage;--an inefficient
person doing important work.
A pigeon sneering at a roc;--a mean man despising a prince.
To climb a tree to catch a fish, is to talk much and get nothing.
To test one good horse by judging the portrait of another.
A fish sports in the kettle, but his life will not be long.
Like a swallow building her nest on a hut is an anxious statesman.
Like a crane among hens is a man of parts among fools.
Like a sheep dressed in a tiger’s skin is a superficial scholar.
Like a cuckoo in a magpie’s nest is one who enjoys another’s labor.
To hang on the tail of a beautiful horse. (To seek promotion.)
Do not pull up your stockings in a melon field, or arrange your hat
under a peach tree, lest people think you are stealing.
An old man marrying a young wife is like a withered willow sprouting.
Let us get drunk to-day while we have wine; the sorrows of to-morrow
may be borne to-morrow.
If the blind lead the blind, they will both go to the pit.
Good iron is not used for nails, nor are soldiers made of good men.
A fair wind raises no storm.
A little impatience subverts great undertakings.
Vast chasms can be filled, but the heart of man is never satisfied.
The body may be healed, but the mind is incurable.
When the tree falls the monkeys flee.
Trouble neglected becomes still more troublesome.
Wood is not sold in the forest, nor fish at the pool.
He who looks at the sun is dazzled, he who hears the thunder is
deafened. (Do not come too near the powerful.)
He desires to hide his tracks, and walks on the snow.
He seeks the ass, and lo! he sits upon him.
Speak not of others, but convict yourself.
A man is not always known by his looks, nor the sea measured by a
bushel.
Ivory does not come from a rat’s mouth.
If a chattering bird be not placed in the mouth, vexation will not
sit between the eyebrows.
Prevention is better than cure.
For the Emperor to break the laws is one with the people’s doing so.
Doubt and distraction are on earth, the brightness of truth in heaven.
Punishment can oppose a barrier to open crime, laws cannot reach to
secret offences.
Wine and good dinners make abundance of friends, but in time of
adversity not one is to be found.
Let every man sweep the snow from before his own doors, and not
trouble himself about the hoarfrost on his neighbor’s tiles.
Better be upright with poverty than depraved with abundance. He whose
virtue exceeds his talents is the good man; he whose talents exceed
his virtues is the fool.
Though a man may be utterly stupid, he is very perspicuous when
reprehending the bad actions of others; though he may be very
intelligent, he is dull enough when excusing his own faults:
do you only correct yourselves on the same principle that you
correct others, and excuse others on the same principles you excuse
yourselves.[346]
If I do not debauch other men’s wives, my own will not be polluted.
Better not be than be nothing.
The egg fights with the rock--hopeless resistance.
One thread does not make a rope; one swallow does not make a summer.
To be fully fed and warmly clothed, and dwell at ease without
learning, is little better than a bestial state.
A woman in one house cannot eat the rice of two. (A wise woman does
not marry again.)
Though the sword be sharp, it will not wound the innocent.
Sensuality is the chief of sins, filial duty the best of acts.
Prosperity is a blessing to the good, but to the evil it is a curse.
Instruction pervades the heart of the wise, but cannot penetrate the
ears of a fool.
The straightest trees are first felled; the cleanest wells first
drunk up.
The yielding tongue endures; the stubborn teeth perish.
The life of the aged is like a candle placed between two
doors--easily blown out.
The blind have the best ears, and the deaf the sharpest eyes.
The horse’s back is not so safe as the buffalo’s. (The politician is
not so secure as the husbandman.)
A wife should excel in four things: virtue, speech, deportment, and
needle-work.
He who is willing to inquire will excel, but the self-sufficient man
will fail.
Anger is like a little fire, which if not timely checked may burn
down a lofty pile.
Every day cannot be a feast of lanterns.
Too much lenity multiplies crime.
If you love your son, give him plenty of the cudgel; if you hate him,
cram him with dainties.
When the mirror is highly polished, the dust will not defile it; when
the heart is enlightened with wisdom, impure thoughts will not arise
in it.
A stubborn wife and stiffnecked son no laws can govern.
He is my teacher who tells me my faults, my enemy who speaks my
virtues.
He has little courage who knows the right and does it not.
To sue a flea, and catch a bite--the results of litigation.
Would you understand the character of a prince, look at his
ministers; or the disposition of a man, observe his companions; or
that of a father, first mark his son.
The fame of good deeds does not leave a man’s door, but his evil acts
are known a thousand miles off.
A virtuous woman is a source of honor to her husband, a vicious one
disgraces him.
The original tendency of man’s heart is to do right, and if well
ordered will not of itself be mistaken.
They who respect themselves will be honored, but disesteeming
ourselves we shall be despised.
The load a beggar cannot carry he himself begged.
The happy-hearted man carries joy for all the household.
The more mouths to eat so much the more meat.
The higher the rat creeps up the cow’s horn the narrower he finds it.
FOOTNOTES:
[329] Compare Rémusat, _Nouveaux Mélanges_, Tome II., pp. 130 ff.,
where there are excellent biographical notices of Sz’ma Tsien and other
native historians.
[330] _Chinese Repository_, Vol. IX., pp. 210, 274.
[331] Legge’s _Chinese Classics_, Vol. III.; _Prolegomena_, Chap. IV.
E. Biot in the _Journal Asiatique_, 2e Series, Tomes XII., p. 537, and
XIII., pp. 203, 381.
[332] Compare Rémusat, _Mélanges Asiatiques_, Tome II., p. 166;
_Chinese Repository_, Vol. IX., p. 143; Wylie’s _Notes_, p. 55; Mayer’s
_Chinese Reader’s Manual_, p. 149.
[333] Translated by Rev. W. H. Medhurst, in the _Chinese Repository_,
Vol. XIII., pp. 552, 609 et seq.
[334] _The Sacred Edict_, London, 1817; a second edition of this
translation appeared in Shanghai in 1870, and another in 1878. Compare
Wylie’s _Notes_, p. 71; Sir G. T. Staunton’s _Miscellaneous Notices_,
etc., pp. 1-56 (1812); _Le Saint Edit, Étude de Littérature chinoise_,
préparée par A. Théophile Piry, Shanghai, 1879.
[335] _Sacred Edict_, pp. 254-259.
[336] _Sacred Edict_, p. 146.
[337] The second of these, Tu Fu, is a poet of some distinction noticed
by Rémusat (_Nouveaux Mélanges_, Tome II., p. 174). He lived in the
eighth century A.D., dying of hunger in the year 768. His writings are
usually edited with those of Lí Tai-peh.
[338] Davis, _Poetry of the Chinese_, London, 1870; G. C. Stent, _The
Jade Chaplet_, London, 1874; _Entombed Alive, and other Verses_, 1878;
Le Marquis D’Hervey-Saint-Denys, _Poésies de l’Epoque des Thang_,
Paris, 1862. A number of extracts of classical and modern literature
will be found in _Confucius and the Chinese Classics_, compiled by Rev.
A. W. Loomis, San Francisco, 1867. _China Review_, Vols. I., p. 248,
IV., p. 46, and passim.
[339] _Chinese Courtship. In Verse. To which is added an Appendix
treating of the Revenue of China_, etc., etc., by Peter Perring Thoms,
London, 1824. Compare the _Quarterly Review_ for 1827, pp. 496 ff. _Le
Li-Sao, Poème du III^e Siècle avant notre ère. Traduit du Chinois_, par
le Marquis d’Hervey de Saint-Denys, Paris, 1870.
[340] Stent’s _Jade Chaplet_.
[341] A translation is given in the _Chinese Repository_ (Vol. IX.,
p. 508) of a supposed complaint made by a cow of her sad lot in being
obliged to work hard and fare poorly during life, and then be cut up
and eaten when dead; the ballad is arranged in the form of the animal
herself, and a herdboy leading her, who in his own form praises the
happiness of a rural life. This ballad is a Buddhist tractate, and that
fraternity print many such on broad-sheets; one common collection of
prayers is arranged like a pagoda, with images of Buddha sitting in the
windows of each story.
[342] The _kí_, or ‘flag,’ is the term by which the leaflets are called
when they just begin to unroll; the _tsiang_, or ‘awl,’ designates
those leaves which are still wrapped up and which are somewhat sharp.
[343] The _ting_ is not exactly a stile, being a kind of shed, or four
posts supporting a roof, which is often erected by villagers for the
convenience of wayfarers, who can stop there and rest. It sometimes
contains a bench or seat, and is usually over or near a spring of water.
[344] _Tchao-chi-cou-eulh, ou l’Orphelin de la Maison de Tchao,
tragédie chinoise_, _traduite_ par le R. P. de Prémare, Miss. de la
Chine, 1755. Julien published a translation of the same, Paris, 1834.
[345] Since the appearance of M. Bazin’s _Théâtre Chinois_ (Paris,
1838) and Davis’ _Sorrows of Han_ (London, 1829), there has been
astonishingly little done in the study of Chinese plays. Compare, for
the rest, an article on this subject by J. J. Ampère, in the _Revue des
Deux Mondes_, September, 1838; _The Far East_, Vol. I. (1876), pp. 57
and 90; _Chinese Repository_, Vol. VI., p. 575; _China Review_, Vol.
I., p. 26; also Lay’s _Chinese as They Are_, and Dr. Gray’s _China_,
passim. Lieut. Kreitner gives an interesting picture of the Chinese
theatre in a country town, together with a few pages upon the drama, of
which his party were spectators. _Im fernen Osten_, pp. 595-599.
[346] The commendation by Lord Brougham of this “admirable precept,” as
he called it, is cited by Sir J. Davis.
CHAPTER XIII.
ARCHITECTURE, DRESS, AND DIET OF THE CHINESE.
It is a sensible remark of De Guignes,[347] that “the habit we fall
into of conceiving things according to the words which express them,
often leads us into error when reading the relations of travellers.
Such writers have seen objects altogether new, but they are compelled,
when describing them, to employ equivalent terms in their own language
in order to be understood; while these same terms tend to deceive the
reader, who imagines that he sees such palaces, colonnades, peristyles,
etc., under these designations as he has been used to, when, in fact,
they are quite another thing.” The same observation is true of other
things than architecture, and of other nations than the Chinese, and
this confusion of terms and meanings proves a fruitful source of
error in regard to an accurate knowledge of foreign nations, and a
just perception of their condition. For instance, the terms _a court
of justice_, _a common school_, _politeness_, _learning_, _navy_,
_houses_, etc., as well as the names of things, like _razor_, _shoe_,
_cap_, _bed_, _pencil_, _paper_, etc., are inapplicable to the same
things in England and China; while it is plainly impossible to coin
a new word in English to describe the Chinese article, and equally
inexpedient to introduce the native term. If, for example, the utensil
used by the Chinese to shave with were picked up in Portsmouth by some
English navvy who had never seen or heard of it, he would be more
likely to call it an oyster-knife, or a wedge, than a razor; while
the use to which it is applied must of course give it that name, and
would, if it were still more unlike the western article. So with other
things. The ideas a Chinese gives to the terms _hwangtí_, _kwanfu_,
_pao_, _pih_, and _shu_, are very different from those conveyed to an
American by the words _emperor_, _magistrate_, _cannon_, _pencil_, and
_book_. Since a person can only judge of what he hears or reads by
what he knows, it is desirable that when he meets with western names
applied to their equivalents in eastern countries, the function of a
different civilization, habits, and notions should not be overlooked in
the opinion he forms. These remarks are peculiarly applicable to the
domestic life of the Chinese, to their houses, diet, dress, and social
customs; although careful descriptions may go a good way in conveying
just ideas, it cannot be hoped that they will do what the most cursory
examination of the object or trait would instantly accomplish.
~POPULAR ERRORS REGARDING FOREIGN COUNTRIES.~
The notions entertained abroad on these particulars are, it need
hardly be remarked, rather more accurate than those the Chinese have
of distant countries, and it is scarcely possible that they can
lose their conceit in their own civilization and position among the
nations so long as such ideas are entertained as the following extract
exhibits. Tien Kí-shih, a popular essayist of the last century, thus
congratulates himself and his readers: “I felicitate myself that I was
born in China, and constantly think how very different it would have
been with me if I had been born beyond the seas in some remote part of
the earth, where the people, far removed from the converting maxims
of the ancient kings, and ignorant of the domestic relations, are
clothed with the leaves of plants, eat wood, dwell in the wilderness,
and live in the holes of the earth; though born in the world, in such
a condition I should not have been different from the beasts of the
field. But now, happily, I have been born in the Middle Kingdom. I have
a house to live in; have food and drink, and elegant furniture; have
clothing and caps, and infinite blessings: truly, the highest felicity
is mine.” This extract well indicates the isolation of the writer and
his race from their fellow-men; among the neighboring nations even the
Japanese would have shown him his erroneous view. The seclusion which
had been forced upon both these peoples, who closed their doors as
the surest possible defence against aggression from foreign traders
and sought in this fashion to remove all cause of quarrel, brought
with it in time the almost equal dangers of ignorance and inability to
understand their true position among the nations of the world.
[Illustration: Diagram of Chinese Roof Construction. (From Fergusson.)]
~ABSENCE OF GREAT ARCHITECTURAL MONUMENTS.~
The architecture of the Chinese suggests, in its general outline and
the peculiar concave roof, a canvas tent as its primary _motive_,
though there is no further proof than this likeness of its origin.
From the palace to the hovel, in temples and in private dwellings,
this type everywhere stands confessed,[348] and almost nothing like a
dome or cupola, a spire or a turret, is anywhere found. Few instances
occur of an attempt to develop even this simple model into a grand
or imposing building. While the Mogul princes in India reared costly
mausolea and palaces to perpetuate their memory and the splendor of
their reigns, the monarchs of China, with equal or greater resources at
command, seldom indulged in this princely pastime, or even attempted
the erection of any enduring monument to commemorate their taste or
their splendor. Whether it was owing to the absence of the beautiful
and majestic models seen in western countries, or to ignorance of the
mechanical principles of the art, the fact is not the less observable,
and the inference as to the advance made by them in knowledge and taste
not less just.
Fergusson has no doubt assigned one good reason for this fact, in that
“the Chinese never had either a dominant priesthood or a hereditary
nobility. The absence of the former class is important, because it is
to sacred art that architecture has owed its highest inspiration, and
sacred art is never so strongly developed as under the influence of
a powerful and splendid hierarchy. In the same manner the want of a
hereditary nobility is equally unfavorable to domestic architecture of
a durable description. Private feuds and private wars were till lately
unknown, and hence there are no fortalices or fortified mansions, which
by their mass and solidity give such a marked character to a certain
class of domestic edifices in the west.”[349] These reasons have their
weight, but they hardly cover the whole question, whose solution
reaches into the well-known inertness of the imaginative faculty in
the Chinese mind. It is nevertheless true that there is nothing in the
whole Empire worthy to be called an architectural ruin, nothing which
can inform us whether previous generations constructed edifices more
splendid or more mean than the present.[350]
~CONSTRUCTION OF CHINESE BUILDINGS.~
Dwelling-houses are generally of one story, having neither cellars
nor basements, and lighted by lattices opening into a court; they
must not equal adjacent temples in height, nor possess the ornaments
appropriated to palaces and religious establishments. The common
building materials are bricks, adobie or matting for the walls, stone
for the foundation, brick tiling for the roof, and wood only for the
inner work; stone and wooden houses are not unknown, but are so rare
as to attract attention. The high prices of timber and the very
partial use of window-glass have both tended to modify and restrict
the construction of dwellings. The _ní chuen_, or sifted earth, is a
compound of decomposed granite or gravel and lime mixed with water, and
sometimes a little oil, of which durable walls are made by pounding it
into a solid mass between planks secured at the sides and elevated as
the wall rises, or by beating it into large blocks; when stuccoed and
protected from the rain this material gradually hardens into stone. In
houses of the better sort the stone work of the foundation rises three
or four feet above the ground, and sometimes the finished surfaces,
great size of the stones and the regularity of their arrangement
make one regret that the same skill had not been expended on large
edifices. In towns their fronts present no opening except the door,
and when the outer walls of several houses join those of gardens and
enclosures, the street presents an uninteresting sameness, unrelieved
by steps, windows, balconies, porticoes, or front yards. The walls
are twenty-five or thirty feet high, usually hollow, or too thin to
safely support the roof unaided. In the common buildings a framework of
wood is erected on the foundation, which has large stones so arranged
as to receive the posts, and on these rests the entire weight of the
roof. The brick nogging fills up the intervals, but supports nothing;
it is sometimes solid, more frequently merely a face-work, and if the
roof becomes leaky or broken a heavy rain will destroy the wall, as
it soaks through the courses and washes out the mud within. In the
central provinces common walls are often made of small bricks four
inches square and one thick, which are laid on their edges in a series
of hollows; between the courses a plank sometimes adds greater strength
to the wall. These cellular constructions are more durable than would
be imagined provided the stucco remains uninjured.
The bricks are the same size as our own, and usually burned to a
grayish slate color; they are made by hand, and sell at a price varying
from three dollars to eight dollars a thousand. In the sea-coast
districts lime is cheaply obtained from shells, but in the interior
from limestone calcined by anthracite coal; the people use it pure,
only occasionally mixing sand with it for either mortar or stucco.
The walls are often stuccoed, and when not thus covered the bricks are
occasionally rubbed smooth and pointed with fine cement. In place of a
broad cornice the top is frequently relieved by a pretty ornament of
moulded work of painted clay figures in _alto relievo_, representing a
battle scene, a landscape, clusters of flowers, or some other design,
defended from the weather by the projecting eaves. A black painted
band, relieved by corners and designs of flowers and scrolls, is a
cheap substitute for the carved figures.
The roofs are hipped in some provinces, but rarely in the north. They
are steep, and if kept tight will last several years; the grass which
is apt to spring up on them is a source of injury, and its growth or
removal alike endangers the soundness of the construction. The yellow
and green glazed tiles of public buildings add to their beauty, as do
the dragon’s heads and globes on their ridge-poles; these features,
together with the earthen dogs at the corners of temples or official
houses, make the structures exceedingly picturesque. In Peking the
framework under the wide eaves of palaces is tastefully painted in
green and gold, and protected by a netting of copper wire. Roofs are
made of earthen tiles laid on coarse clapboarding that rests on the
purlines in alternate ridges and furrows. The under layer consists of
square thin pieces, laid side by side in ascending rows with the lower
edges overlapping; the sides are covered by the semi-cylindrical tiles,
which are further protected by a covering of mortar. In the northern
provinces the tiles are laid in a course of mud resting on straw over
the clapboarding. The workmen begin the tiling at the ridge-pole and
finish as they come down to the eaves, so as not to walk over the
tiles and crack them; but such roofs easily leak in driving storms.
No chimneys are seen; the slope is steep, for quick discharge of rain
and snow. Terraces are erected on shops, but balustrades or flat roofs
are seldom seen. Occasionally the gable walls rise above the roof in
degrees, imparting a singular, bow-like aspect to the edifice. The
purlines and ridge-pole extend from wall to wall, and the rafters are
slender strips. In all roofs the principal weight rests on the two rows
of pillars at the sides, that uphold the plates, and the antefixæ
which support the broad eaves far beyond the wall. A series of beams
and posts above the plates and tie-beams make the roof very heavy but
also secure; curb and mansard roofs are unknown.
The pillars of stone or timber in Chinese temples are often noticeable,
owing to their size or length as single pieces. They are, however,
unadorned with either capital or carved base, though the shaft may
be finely carved and painted, the color decoration being often upon
a thick coating of _papier-maché_, laid on to protect the wood. In
two-story houses the sleepers of the floor are supported on tie-beams
attached to the main posts if they do not rest on the wall. Posts form
an element of all Chinese buildings, either to support the roof or the
veranda. The entrance is on the sides, and the wall is set back from
the outer line of the eaves so as to afford a shelter or porch. Hipped
roofs enable the architect to encompass the entire building with a
veranda, this being a common arrangement in the southern provinces. A
slight ceiling usually conceals the tiling, but the apartment appears
lofty owing to the cavity of the roof.
~ORNAMENTAL EDIFICES AND DWELLINGS.~
The pavilion is a prominent feature of Chinese architecture, and its
ornamentation calls out the best talent of the builder in making
his edifice acceptable. One charming specimen of this style at the
Emperor’s summer palace of Yuen-ming Yuen is already famous, its
material being of pure copper; it is about fourteen feet square and
twenty high.
Another beautiful structure which well exhibits the pavilion is shown
in the adjoining cut. It is the _Pih-yung Kung_, or ‘Classic Hall,’
built by Kienlung adjacent to the Confucian Temple at Peking (page 74),
and devoted to expounding the classics. This lofty building, which may
be here seen through an ornamental arch across the court, is perfectly
square, covered with a four-sided double roof, whose bright yellow
tiles and gilded ball at the apex produce a most brilliant effect in
the sunlight. The deep veranda, completely encircling the structure
and supported by a score of colored wooden pillars, very ably relieves
the dead mass and heavy upper roof of the pavilion proper. Around
flow the waters of a circular tank, edged with marble balustrades and
spanned by four bridges which form the approaches to each of the sides.
[Illustration: PIH-YUNG KUNG, OR ‘CLASSIC HALL,’ PEKING.]
The general disposition of a Chinese dwelling of the better sort is
that of a series of rooms separated and lighted by intervening courts,
and accessible along a covered corridor communicating with each, or
by side passages leading through the courts. In cities, where the
houses are cramped and the lots irregular in shape, there is more
diversity in the arrangement and size of rooms; and in the country
establishments of wealthy families, where the gradual increase of
the members calls for additional space, the succession of courts and
buildings, interspersed with gardens and pools, sometimes renders the
whole not a little complicated. The great expense of timber for floors,
posts, and sleepers has been the chief reason for retaining the single
story, rather than the awkwardness caused by cramping women’s feet. No
contrivance for warming the rooms by means of chimneys or flues exists,
except that found in the _kang_, or brick bed, on which the inmates lie
and sit.
The entrance into large mansions in the country is by a triple gate
leading through a lawn or garden up to the hall; in towns, a single
door, usually elevated a step or two above the street, introduces the
visitor into a porch or court. A wall or movable screen is placed
inside of the doorway, and the intervening space is occupied by the
porter; upon the wall on the left is often seen a shrine dedicated to
the gods of the threshold. In the houses of officials, upon this wall
is inscribed a list of dignities and offices which the master has held
during his life. The door is solidly constructed, and moves upon pivots
turning in sockets. Under the projecting eaves hang paper lanterns
informing the passer-by of the name and title of the householder, and
when lighted at night serving to illumine the street and designate
his habitation; for door-plates and numbers are unknown. The
roughness of the gate is somewhat concealed by the names or grotesque
representations of two tutelar gods, Shintu and Yuhlui, to whom the
guardianship of the house is entrusted; while the sides and lintel are
embellished with felicitous quotations written upon red paper, or with
sign-boards of official rank. The doorkeeper and other servants lodge
in small rooms within the gateway, and above the porch is an attic
containing one or two apartments, to be reached by a rude stairway.
On passing behind the screen a court, occasionally adorned with flowers
or a fancy fish-pool, is crossed before reaching the principal hall.
The upper end of the hall is furnished with a high table, on which
incense vases, idolatrous utensils, and offerings are placed in honor
of the divinities and lares worshipped there, whose tablets and names
are on the wall. Sometimes the table merely contains flowers in jars,
fancy pieces of white quartz, limestone or jade, or ornaments of
various kinds. Before the table is a large couch, with a low stand in
its centre, and a pillow for reclining upon. In front of it the chairs
are arranged down the room in two rows facing each other, each pair
having a small table between them. The floors are made of thick, large
tiles of brick or marble, or of hard cement. Even in a bright day the
room is dim, and the absence of carpets and fireplaces, and of windows
to afford a prospect abroad, renders it cheerless to a foreigner
accustomed to his own glazed and loftier houses.
A rear door near the side wall opens either into a kitchen or court,
across which are the female apartments, or directly into the latter
and the rooms for domestics. Instead of being always rectangular the
doors are sometimes made round, leaf-shaped, or semi-circular, and it
is thought desirable that they should not open opposite each other,
lest evil spirits find their way in from the street. The rear rooms are
lighted by skylights when other modes are unavailable, and along the
southern sea-coasts the thin laminæ of a species of oyster (_Placuna_)
cut into small squares supply the place of window-glass. Commerce is
gradually bringing this material into greater use all over the land,
though the fear of thieves still limits it. Corean paper is the chief
substitute for glass in the north. The kitchen is a small affair, for
the universal use of portable furnaces enables the inmates to cook
wherever the smoke will be least troublesome. Warming the house, even
as far north as Ningpo, is not frequent, as the inmates rely on their
quilted and fur garments for protection. The flue of the tiled-brick
divan, or _kang_, is connected with a pit lined with brick dug in the
floor in front; when the pot of coal is well lighted and placed near
the opening, the draft carries the heat into the passages running under
the surface, and soon warms the room without much smoke. The pot of
burning coal furnishes all the cooking-fire the poor have, and at night
the inmates sleep on the warm bricks.
~ARRANGEMENT OF COUNTRY HOUSES.~
The country establishments of wealthy men furnish the best expression
of Chinese ideas of elegance and comfort. In these enclosures the hall
of ancestors, library, school-room, and summer-houses are detached
and erected upon low plinths, surrounded by a veranda, and frequently
decorated with tracery and ornamental carving. Near the rear court
are the female apartments and offices, many of the former and the
sleeping apartments being in attics. Considerable space is occupied
by the quadrangles, which are paved and embellished by fish-pools,
flowering shrubs, and other plants. Mr. Fortune describes[351] the
house and garden of a gentleman at Ningpo as being connected by
rude-looking caverns of rock-work, “and what at first sight appears to
be a subterranean passage leading from room to room, through which the
visitor passes to the garden. The small courts, of which a glimpse is
caught in passing along, are fitted up with rock-work; dwarf trees are
planted here and there in various places, and graceful creepers hang
down into the pools in front. These being passed, another cavernous
passage leads into the garden, with its dwarf trees, vases, ornamented
lattices, and beautiful shrubs suddenly opening to the view. By
windings and glimpses along the rocky passages into other courts, and
hiding the real boundary by masses of shrubs and trees, the grounds are
made to appear much larger than they really are.”
The houses of the poor are dark, dirty, low, and narrow tenements,
where the floor is of earth covered with mats or tiled, and the doorway
the only opening, on which a swinging mat conceals the interior.
The whole family often sleep, eat, and live in a single room. Pigs,
dogs, and hens dispute the space with children and furniture--if a
table and a few trestles and stools, pots and plates, deserve that
name. The filthy street without is a counterpart to the gloomy, smoky
abode within, and a single walk through the streets and lanes of such
a neighborhood is sufficient to reconcile a person to any ordinary
condition of life. On the outskirts of the town a still poorer class
take up with huts made of mats and thatch upon the ground, through
which the rain and wind find free course. It is surprising that people
can live and enjoy health, and even be cheerful, as the Chinese are,
in such circumstances. Between these hovels and the abodes of the rich
is a class of middle houses, consisting of three or four small rooms
surrounding a court, each one lodging a family, which uses its portion
of the quadrangle.
The best furniture is made of a heavy wood stained to resemble ebony;
camphor, elm, pine, aspen, and melia woods furnish cheaper material.
Ornamental articles, porcelain vases, copper tripods or pots, stone
screens, book-shelves, flowers in pots, etc., show the national taste.
Ink sketches of landscapes, gay scrolls inscribed with sentences
suspended from the walls, and pretty lanterns relieve the baldness
of the room; their combined effect is not destitute of variety and
elegance, though there is a lack of _comfort_. Partitions are sometimes
fancifully made of lattice-work, with openings neatly arranged for the
reception of boxes containing books. The bedrooms are small, poorly
ventilated, and seldom visited except at night. A massive bedstead
of costly woods, elaborately carved, and supporting a tester for the
silk curtains and mosquito-bars, is often shown as the family pride
and heirloom; a scroll of fine writing adorns its fringe or valance.
Mattresses or feather beds are not used, and the pillow is a hollow
square frame of rattan or bamboo. The bed, wardrobe, and toilet usually
complete the furniture of the sleeping apartments of the Chinese; but
if this is also the sitting room, the bed is rolled up so as often to
furnish seats on its boards.
~STYLE OF GARDENS.~
The grounds of the rich are laid out in good style, and were not the
tasteful arrangements and diversified shrubbery which would render them
charming resorts almost always spoiled by general bad keeping--neglect
and ruin, if not nastiness and offals, being often visible--they would
please the most fastidious. The necessity of having a place for the
women and children to recreate themselves is one reason for having
an open enclosure, even if it be only a plat of flowers or a bed of
vegetables. In the imperial gardens the attempt to make an epitome of
nature has been highly successful. De Guignes describes their art of
gardening as “imitating the beauties and producing the inequalities of
nature. Instead of alleys planted symmetrically or uniform grounds,
there are winding footpaths, trees here and there as if by chance,
woody or sterile hillocks, and deep gulleys with narrow passages,
whose sides are steep or rough with rocks, and presenting only a few
miserable shrubs. They like to bring together in gardening, in the same
view, cultivated grounds and arid plains; to make the field uneven
and cover it with artificial rock-work; to dig caverns in mountains,
on whose tops are arbors half overthrown, and around which tortuous
footpaths run and return into themselves, prolonging, as it were, the
extent of the grounds and increasing the pleasure of the walk.”
A fish-pond, supplied by a rivulet running wildly through the grounds,
forms a pretty feature of such gardens, in which, if there be room, a
summer-house is erected on a rocky islet, or on piles over the water,
accessible by a rugged causey of rock-work. The nelumbium lily, with
its plate-like leaves and magnificent flowers, is a general favorite
in such places; carp and other fish are reared in their waters, and
gold-fish in small tanks. Whenever it is possible a gallery runs
along the sides of the pond for the pleasure and use of the females
in the household. A tasteful device in some gardens, which beguiles
the visitor’s ramble, is a rude kind of shell or pebble mosaic inlaid
in the gravelly paths, representing birds, animals, or other figures;
the time required to decipher them prolongs the walk, and apparently
increases the size of the grounds. The pieces of rock-work are cemented
and bound with wire; and in fish-pools, grottos, or causeways this
unique ornament has a charming effect, the moss and plants which grow
upon it adding rather to its appropriateness.
The wood and mason work is unsubstantial, requiring constant repairs;
when new they present a pretty appearance, but both gardens and
houses, when neglected, soon fall into a ruinous condition. Some of
the principal merchants at Canton, in the former days of the hong
monopoly, had cultivated grounds of greater or less extent attached to
their establishments. One of them, by way of variety, constructed a
summer-house entirely of glass, this wonderful structure being made so
that it could be closed and protected with shutters.
The arrangement of shops and warehouses is modified by the uses to
which they are applied, but they still resemble dwelling-houses more
than is the case with stores in western cities. The rear room of
the shop is a small apartment, used for a dormitory, store-room, or
workshop, and sometimes for all these purposes together; it is in most
cases on an upper floor. Small ones are lighted from the street, but
the largest by a skylight, in which cases there is a latticed screen
reaching across the room, to secure the inside from the street. The
whole shop-front is thrown open by day and closed at night by shutters
running in grooves, and secured by heavy cross-bars to a row of posts
which fit in sockets in the threshold and lintel. The doorway recedes
a foot or two, and the projecting roof serves to protect customers,
and such goods as are exposed, from the rain and sun. In small shops
there are two counters, a long one running back from the door, and
another at right angles to it, reaching partly across the front. The
shopman sits within the angle formed by these, and as they are low he
can easily serve a customer in the street as well as in the shop. At
night the smaller one often forms a lodging place for homeless beggars.
The facing of the outer counter is of granite, and in Canton a niche
containing a tablet inscribed to the god of wealth is cut in the end,
where incense is burned. Another shrine is placed on high within the
apartment, dedicated to the deity of the place, whoever he may be.
The loft is much contracted; and that it may not intercept the
skylight, it is usually a small chamber reached by a gallery, and
lighted in front. Chinese tradesmen do not make much display in
exhibiting their goods, and the partial use of glass renders it
somewhat unsafe for them to do so. The want of a yard compels them
to cook and wash either behind or on top of the building; clerks and
workmen usually eat and sleep under the shop roof. In the densest
parts of Canton the roofs are covered with a loose framework, on which
firewood is piled, clothes washed and dried, and meals cooked; it also
affords a sleeping place in summer. In case of fire, however, these
lumbered roofs become like so many tinder-boxes, and aid not a little
to spread the flames.
~SHOP AND THOROUGHFARES.~
The narrowness of the streets in Chinese cities is a source of many
inconveniences; few exceed ten or twelve feet in width, and most of
those in Canton are less than eight. No large squares having fountains
and shrubbery, nor any open spaces except the areas in front of
temples relieve the closeness of these lanes. The absence of horses
and carriages in southern cities, and a custom of huddling together,
a desire to screen the thoroughfare from the sun, and ignorance of
the advantages of another mode, are among the leading reasons for
making them so contracted; while the difficulty of collecting a mob
in them should be mentioned as one point in their favor. In case of
fire it is difficult to get access to the burning buildings, and
dangerous for the inmates to move or save their property. At all times
porters carrying burdens are impeded by the crowd of passengers, who
likewise must pass Indian file lest they tilt against the porters.
Ventilation is imperfect where the buildings are packed so closely,
and the public necessaries and their offal carried through the streets
by the scavengers pollute the air. Drainage is very superficial and
incomplete; the sewers easily choke up or get broken and exude their
contents over the pathway. The ammoniacal and other gases which are
generated aggravate the ophthalmic diseases so prevalent; and it is a
matter of surprise that the cholera, plague, or yellow fever does not
visit the inhabitants of such confined abodes, who breathe so tainted
an atmosphere. The peculiar government of cities by means of wards and
neighborhoods, each responsible to the officials, combined with the
ignorance among all ranks of the principles of hygiene, will account
for the evils so patent to one accustomed to the energetic sway of
a mayor and board of health in most European cities, who can bring
knowledge and power to coöperate for the well-being of all.
The streets are usually paved with slabs of stone laid cross-wise, and
except near markets and wells are comparatively clean. They are not
laid out straight, and some present a singularly irregular appearance
from the slight angle which each house makes with its neighbors; it
being considered rather unlucky to have them exactly even. The names of
the streets are written on the gateways crossing them, whenever they
are marked at all; occasionally, as at Canton, each division makes
a separate neighborhood and has its own name; a single long street
will thus have five, six, or more names. The general arrangement of
a Chinese city presents a labyrinth of streets, alleys, and byways
very perplexing to a stranger who has neither plan nor directory to
guide him, nor numbers upon the houses and shops to direct him. The
sign-boards are hung each side of the door, or securely inserted in
stone sockets; some of them are ten or fifteen feet high, and being
gaily painted and gilded on both sides with picturesque characters, a
succession of them as seen down a street produces a gay effect. The
inscriptions simply mention the kind of goods sold, and without half
the puffing seen in western cities; accounts sometimes given of the
inscriptions on sign-boards in Chinese cities, as “No cheating here,”
and others, describe the exception and not the rule. The edicts of
government, handbills of medicines and the famous doctors who make
them, notices offering rewards for children who are lost or slaves
escaped, new shops opened, houses to let, or other events, cover blank
walls in great variety, printed on red, black, white, or yellow paper;
the absence of newspapers leads shopmen to depend more for patronage
upon a circle of customers and the distribution of cards than to spend
much money in handbills. The shrines of the street gods occur in
southern cities, located in niches in the wall, with altars before them.
The temples and assembly-halls are the only public buildings in Chinese
cities belonging to the people. Their courts and cloisters, with such
gardens, tea-houses, and pools as may be accessible, attract constant
crowds, and furnish the only places of common resort. The priests
derive no small portion of their income from travellers, and their
establishments are consequently made more commodious and extensive than
the number of priests or the throng of worshippers require.
~CLUB-HOUSES AND TAVERNS.~
The assembly-halls or club-houses form a peculiar feature of Chinese
society. There are more than a hundred in Canton and many hundreds
in Peking. They are built sometimes by a particular craft as its
guildhall, or more commonly erected by persons resorting to the place
for trade, study, or amusement, who subscribe to fit up a commodious
establishment to accommodate persons coming from the same town. In this
way their convenience, assistance, oversight, and general safety are
all increased.[352] All buildings pay a ground rent to the government,
but no data are available for comparing this tax with that levied in
western cities. The government furnishes the owner of the ground with a
_hung kí_, or ‘red deed,’ in testimony of his right to occupancy, which
puts him in possession as long as he pays the taxes. There is a record
office in the local magistracy of such documents.
Houses are rented on short leases, and the rent collected quarterly in
advance; the annual income from real estate is between nine and twelve
per cent. The yearly rent of the best shops in Canton is from $150 to
$400; there is no system of insuring against fire, which, with the
municipal taxes and the difficulty of collecting bad rents, enhances
their price. Such kind of property in China is liable to many risks.
The taverns are numerous and adapted for every calling. Though they
will not bear comparison with western hotels, they are far in advance
of the cheerless khans and caravansaries found in Western Asia. The
traveller brings his own bedding, sometimes also his own provision,
and when night comes spreads his mat upon the floor or divan and lies
down in his clothes. The better sort of travellers order a room for
themselves, but officials or rich men go to temples, or hire a boat
in which to travel and sleep; this usage takes off the best class of
customers. One considerable source of income to innkeepers is the
preparation of dinners for parties of men, who either come to the
house or send to it for so many covers; for when a gentleman invites
his friends to an entertainment it is common to serve it up at his
warehouse, or at an inn. In towns and cities thousands of men eat in
the streets; the number of eating and cooking-stalls produces a most
lively impression upon a stranger. This custom has had a good effect in
promoting the general courtesy so conspicuous among the people, and is
increased by great numbers of street story-tellers. The noisy hilarity
of the customers, as they ply their “nimble lads,” or chopsticks,
and the vociferous cries of the cooks recommending their cakes and
dishes, with the steaming savor from the frying-pan and kettles, form
only one of the many objects to attract the notice of the foreign
observer. Their appearance and the variety of bustling scenes and
picturesque novelties presented to him afford constant instruction
and entertainment. Those at Canton have been thus described by an
eye-witness.
~STREET SCENES IN CANTON AND PEKING.~
The number of itinerant workmen of one kind or another which line
the sides of the streets or occupy the areas before public buildings
in Chinese towns is a remarkable feature. Fruiterers, pastrymen,
cooks, venders of gimcracks, and wayside shopmen are found in other
countries as well as China; but to see a travelling blacksmith
or tinker, an itinerant glass-mender, a peripatetic repairer of
umbrellas, a locomotive seal-cutter, an ambulatory barber, a
migratory banker, a peregrinatory apothecary or druggist, or a
walking shoe-maker and cobbler, one must travel hitherward. These
movable establishments, together with fortune-tellers, herb and
booksellers, chiromancers, etc., pretty well fill up the space, so
that one often sees both sides of the streets literally lined with
the stalls, wares, or tools of persons selling or making something to
eat or to wear. The money-changer sits behind a small table, on which
his strings of cash are chained, and where he weighs the silver he is
to change; his neighbor, the seal-cutter, sits next him near a like
fashioned table. The barber has his chest of drawers made to serve
for a seat, and if he has not a furnace of his own he heats his water
at the cook’s or the blacksmith’s fire near by, perhaps shaving his
friend gratis by way of recompense.
The herbseller chooses an open place where he will not be trampled
on, and there displays his simples and his plasters, while the
dentist, with a ghastly string of fangs and grinders around his neck,
testimonials of his skill, sits over against him, each with his
infallible remedy. The book-peddler and chooser of lucky days, and
he who searches for stolen goods by divination, arrange themselves
on either side, with their tables and stalls, and array of sticks,
pencils, signs, and pictures, all trying to “catch a little pigeon.”
The spectacle-mender and razor-grinder, the cutler and seller of
bangles and bracelets, and the maker of clay puppets or mender of
old shoes, are not far off, all plying their callings as busily
as if they were in their own shops. Then, besides the hundreds of
stalls for selling articles of food, dress, or ornament, there are
innumerable hucksters going up and down with baskets and trays slung
on their shoulders, each bawling or making his own peculiar note,
which, with coolies transporting burdens, chair-bearers carrying
sedans, and passengers following one another like a stream, with
here and there a woman among them, so fill up the streets that it
is no easy matter to navigate one’s way. Notwithstanding all these
obstructions, it is worthy of note and highly praiseworthy to see
these crowds pass and repass with the greatest rapidity in the
narrow streets without altercation or disturbance, and seldom with
accident.[353]
Streets at the north present a somewhat different, and on the whole
a less inviting because less entertaining and picturesque aspect.
Their greater width allows carts to pass, and it also offers more room
for the garbage, the rubbish, and the noisome sights that are most
disgusting, all of which are made worse in rainy weather by the mud
through which one flounders. Barrow thus delineates those in Peking:
“The multitude of movable workshops of tinkers and barbers, cobblers
and blacksmiths, the tents and booths where tea and fruit, rice and
other eatables were exposed for sale, with the wares and merchandise
arrayed before the doors, had contracted this spacious street to a
narrow road in the middle, just wide enough for two little vehicles to
pass each other. The processions of men in office attended by their
numerous retinues, bearing umbrellas and flags, painted lanterns and
a variety of strange insignia of their rank and station, different
trains that were accompanying, with lamentable cries, corpses to their
graves, and with squalling music, brides to their husbands; the troops
of dromedaries laden with coals from Tartary; the wheel-barrows and
hand-carts stuffed with vegetables, occupied nearly the whole of this
middle space in one continued line. All was in motion. The sides of
the streets were filled with an immense concourse of people, buying
and selling and bartering their different commodities. The buzz and
confused noises of this mixed multitude, proceeding from the loud
bawling of those who were crying their wares, the wrangling of others,
with every now and then a strange twanging sound like the jarring of a
cracked jewsharp (the barber’s signal), the mirth and laughter that
prevailed in every group, could scarcely be exceeded. Peddlers with
their packs, jugglers and conjurers, fortune-tellers, mountebanks and
quack doctors, comedians and musicians, left no space unoccupied.”[354]
~CONTROL OF BEGGARS AND FIRES IN CITIES.~
Shops are closed at nightfall, and persons going abroad carry a lantern
or torch. Over the thoroughfares slender towers are erected, where
notice of a fire is given and the watches of the night announced by
striking a gong. Few persons are met in the streets at night, and the
private watch kept by all who are able greatly assists the regular
police in preserving order and apprehending thieves. These watchers go
up and down their wards beating large bamboos, to let “thieves know
they are on the lookout.” Considering all things, large Chinese cities
are remarkably quiet at night. Beggars find their lodgings in the
porches and squares of temples, or sides of the streets, and nestle
together for mutual warmth. This class is under the care of a headman,
who, in order to collect the poor-tax allowed by law, apportions them
in the neighborhoods with the advice of the elders and constables.
During the day they go from one door to another and receive their
allotted stipend, which cannot be less than one cash to each person.
They sit in the doorway and sing a ditty or beat their clap-dishes and
sticks to attract attention, and if the shopkeeper has no customers
he lets them keep up their cries, for he knows that the longer they
are detained so much the more time will elapse before they come again
to his shop. Many are blind and all present a sickly appearance,
their countenances begrimed with dirt and furrowed by sorrow and
suffering. The very difficult question how to assist, restrain, and
employ the poor has been usually left to the mercy and wisdom of the
municipal officers in the cities; and the results are not on the whole
discreditable to their humanity and benevolence. Many persons give the
headman a dollar or more per month to purchase exemption from the daily
importunity of the beggars, and families about to have a house-warming,
marriage, or funeral, as also newly arrived junks, are obliged to fee
him to get rid of the clamorous and loathsome crowd.
When fires occur the officers of government are held responsible;
the law being that if ten houses are burned _within the walls_, the
highest officer in it shall be fined nine months’ pay; if more than
thirty, a year’s salary; and if three hundred are consumed, he shall
be degraded one degree. The governor and other high officers, attended
by a few troops, are frequently seen at fires in Canton, as much to
prevent thievery as to direct in extinguishing the flames. The engines
are hurried through the narrow streets at a fearful rate; those who
carry away property are armed with swords to defend it, and usually
add to the crash of the burning houses by loud cries. The police do
not hesitate to pull down houses if the fire can thereby be sooner
extinguished, but there is no organized body of firemen, nor any
well-arranged system of operations in such cases, though conflagrations
are ordinarily soon under control. Cruel men often take the opportunity
at such times to steal and carry off defenceless persons, especially
young girls.
At Canton the usage is general of levying a bonus on the owners of
the houses adjacent to the burnt district, whose dwellings were
saved by the exertions of the firemen, the appraisement decreasing
as the distance increases; the sum is divided among the firemen. The
householders thus saved also employ priests to erect an altar near by,
whereon to perform a service, and “return thanks for Heaven’s mercy.”
On the whole, the fire control in China is superior to that in Turkey,
where the firemen pay themselves for their efforts by extortions
practised upon house-owners.
~PAGODAS, THEIR PURPOSE AND CONSTRUCTION.~
The pagoda is a building considered as so peculiar to the Chinese that
a landscape or painting relating to China without a pagoda perched on
a hill--like one of Egyptian scenery destitute of a pyramid--would be
considered deficient. The term _pagoda_ is used in its proper sense
by most of the French and Portuguese writers to denote a temple for
idols, but in English books it has always been appropriated to the
polygonal towers seen throughout the country. Some confusion has
arisen in consequence of applying the account of an immense temple
full of idols to these towers. The English use is the most definite in
China, although its misapplication is indefensible if we regard its
derivation.
The form of the Chinese _tah_ is probably derived from the spire on
the top of the Hindu dagoba, as its name is doubtless taken from the
first syllable; but their purpose has so long been identified with
the geomantic influences which determine the luck of a place that the
people do not associate them with Buddhism. Mr. Milne explains this
in his remark that “the presence of such an edifice not only secures
to the site the protection of heaven, if it already bears evidence
of enjoying it, but represses any evil influences that may be native
to the spot, and imparts to it the most salutary and felicitous
omens.”[355] Those in the southern and central provinces seldom contain
idols of any pretensions. They are ascended by stairways built in the
thick walls on alternate sides of the stories. In the north there is
another kind, designed to contain a _shé-lí_, or relic of Buddha,
having a large room near the base for worshipping the idol placed in
it, but otherwise entirely solid and nearly uniform in size to the
top; the stories are merely numerous narrow projections, like eaves or
string courses, on which hundreds of small images are sometimes placed.
These structures more nearly resemble the Indian _dagoba_ than the
other kind, and are always connected with a monastery, while those are
not uniformly so placed, though under a priestly oversight.
No town is considered complete without a pagoda, and many large
cities have several; there must be nearly two thousand in the Empire,
some of which are quite celebrated. It is rare to see a new one, and
the ruinous condition of most of them indicates the weakness of the
faith which erected them. They vary in height from five to thirteen
stories, and are mostly built in so solid a manner that they are
likely to remain for centuries. One at Hangchau is octagonal, each
face twenty-eight feet wide and the wall at the base eighteen feet
thick; the top is reached by a spiral stairway between the walls; a
covered gallery on the outside of each story affords resting-places and
ever-changing views to the visitor; it is one hundred and seventy feet
high, and was built during the Sung dynasty, in the twelfth century.
The prospect from its summit is superb; the picturesque combination of
sea and shore, land and water, city and country, wilderness, gardens,
and hills, with many historical and religious associations interesting
to a native, make it one of the most charming landscapes in China.
Sir John Davis visited one near Lintsing chau in Shantung, in very
good repair, inhabited by Buddhist priests, and containing two idols;
each of its nine stories was inscribed with _Ometo Fuh_, in large
characters. It was erected since the completion of the Grand Canal.
A winding stairway of near two hundred steps conducted to the top,
about one hundred and fifty feet from the ground, from whence an
extensive view was obtained of the surrounding country. The basement
was excellently built of granite, and all the rest of glazed brick,
beautifully joined and cemented.
The objects in building these structures being of a mixed nature,
sometimes geomantic and sometimes religious, their materials, size,
and structure vary considerably. There are two inside of Canton, and
three near the Pearl River, below the city; fifteen others occur in the
prefecture. Suchau has two, Ningpo one, Fuhchau two, and Peking six in
and out of the walls. One of those at Canton was built by the Moslems
about a thousand years ago, a plain brick tower nearly two hundred feet
high, from which the faithful were probably called to prayers in the
adjacent mosque. Fergusson’s remarks upon Chinese architecture would
probably have been modified had the writer enjoyed a wider range of
observation and a fuller knowledge of the designs of native builders.
They are, however, the conclusions of a competent observer, and the
position he gives to the pagoda among the tower-like buildings of the
world, arising from its peculiar form, its divisions, and its apparent
uselessness, will be generally accepted as just.
Mr. Milne, in his interesting work, has a good account of pagodas; he
shows that while their model is of Hindu origin, and has been carefully
followed since the first one was erected (about A.D. 250) at Nanking,
the popular geomantic ideas connected with their octagonal form and
great height have gradually increased and influenced their location.
The Buddhists seem themselves to have lost their ancient confidence in
the protection of the _shé-lí_ (or _saina_) supposed to be built in
them. The number of Indian words transliterated in Chinese accounts of
these edifices further proves their foreign origin. For convenience
and accuracy in describing them, it would be best to restrict the term
_pagoda_ to the hollow octagonal towers, the word _dagoba_ to the solid
ones covering the relics, and _tope_ to the erections over priests when
buried.
Pagodas are sometimes made of cast iron; those hitherto observed are
in the central provinces. One exists in Chehkiang province, nearly
fifty feet high and of nine stories. The octagonal pieces forming the
walls are each single castings, as are also the plates forming the
roof. The whole structure, including the base and spire, was made of
twenty pieces of iron. Its interior is filled with brick, probably
with the design to strengthen it against storms. The ignorance of the
Chinese of later days of the Hindu origin of pagodas has led to their
regarding those now in existence as of native design, and appropriated
by the Buddhists for their own ends. Most of them are falling to
ruins; and the assurances held out by the geomancers that the pagoda
will act like an electric tractor to draw down every felicitous omen
from above, so that fire, water, wood, earth, and metal will be at the
service of the people, the soil productive, trade prosperous, and the
natives submissive and happy, all fail to call out funds for repairing
them.[356]
The dull appearance of a Chinese city when seen from a distance is
unlike that of European cities, in which spires, domes, and towers of
churches and cathedrals, halls, palaces, and other public buildings
relieve the uniformity of rows of dwellings. In China, temples, houses,
and palaces are nearly of one height; their sameness being only
partially relieved by trees mingled with pairs of tall flag-staffs
with frames near their tops, which at a distance rather suggest the
idea of dismantled gallows. Nature, however, charms and delights, and
few countries present more beautiful landscapes; even the tameness of
the works of man serves as a foil for the diversified beauties of the
cultivated landscape.
[Illustration: Wheelbarrows Used for Travelling.]
~MODES OF TRAVELLING.~
A Chinese usually prefers to travel by water, and in the southeastern
provinces it may be said that vehicles solely designed for carrying
travellers or goods do not exist, for the carts and wheelbarrows which
are met with are few and miserably made. But north of the Yangtsz’
River, all over the Great Plain carts and wheelbarrows form the chief
means of travel and transportation. The high cost of timber and the
bad roads compel the people to make these vehicles very rude and
strong, having axles and wheels able to bear the strains or upsets
which befall them. Carts for goods are drawn by three or four horses
usually driven tandem, and fastened by long traces to the axle-tree,
one remaining within the thills. The common carts, drawn by one or two
mules, are oblong boxes fastened to an axle, covered with cotton cloth,
and cushioned to alleviate the jolting; the passengers get in and out
at the front, where the driver sits close to the horse. In Peking the
members of the imperial clan and family are allowed to use carts having
the wheel behind the body; their ranks are further indicated by a red
or yellow covering, and a greater or less number of outriders to escort
them. The wheelbarrow is in great use for short distances throughout
the same region. The position of the wheel in the centre enables the
man to propel a heavy load readily. When on a good road, and aided by
a donkey, the larger varieties of barrow carry easily a burden of a
ton’s weight; two men are necessary to maintain the balance and guide
the rather top-heavy vehicle.
~SEDAN CHAIRS AND RIVER CRAFT.~
Where travelling by water is impossible, sedan chairs are used to carry
passengers, and coolies with poles and slings transport their luggage
and goods. There are two kinds of sedan, neither of them designed for
reclining like the Indian _palky_. The light one is made of bamboo,
and so narrow that the sitter is obliged to lean forward as he is
carried; the large one, called _kiao_, is, whether viewed in regard to
lightness, comfort, or any other quality associated with such a mode
of carriage, one of the most convenient articles found in any country.
Its use is subject to sumptuary laws, and forbidden to the common
people unless possessing some kind of rank. In Peking only the highest
officials ride in them, with four bearers. In other cities two chairmen
manage easily enough to maintain a gait of four miles an hour with a
sedan upon their shoulders. Goods are carried upon poles, and however
large or heavy the package may be, the porters contrive to subdivide
its weight between them by means of their sticks and slings. The
number of persons who thus gain a livelihood is great, and in cities
they are employed by headmen, who contract for work just as carmen do
elsewhere; when unengaged by overseers, parties station themselves at
corners and other public places, ready to start at a beck, after the
manner of _Dienstmänner_ in German cities. In the streets of Canton
groups of brawny fellows are often seen idling away their time in
smoking, gambling, sleeping, or jeering at the wayfarers; and, like the
husbandmen mentioned in the parable, if one ask them why they stand
there all the day idle? the answer will be, “Because no man hath hired
us.”
The chair-bearers form a distinct guild in cities, and the
establishments where sedans and their bearers are to be hired suggest
a comparison with the livery stables of western cities; the men, in
fact, are nicknamed at Canton _mo mí ma_, ‘tailless horses.’ A vehicle
used sometimes by the Emperor and high officers consists of an open
chair set upon poles, so made that the incumbent can be seen as well
as see around him. It undergoes many changes in different parts of the
country, as it is both cheap and light and well fitted for traversing
mountainous regions.
In the construction and management of their river craft the Chinese
excel. As boats are intended to be the residences of those who navigate
them, regard is had to this in their arrangement. Only a part of
the fleets of boats seen on the river at Canton are intended for
transportation, a large number being designed for fixed residences,
and perhaps half of them are permanently moored. They are not obliged
to remain where they station themselves, but the boats and their
inmates are both under the supervision of a water police, who register
them and point out the position they may occupy. Barges for families,
those in which oil, salt, fuel, or other articles are sold, lighters,
passage-boats, flower-boats, and other kinds, are by this means grouped
together, and more easily found. It was once ascertained that there
were eighty-four thousand boats registered as belonging to the city
of Canton, but whether all remained near the city and did not go to
other parts of the district, or whether old ones were erased from the
register when broken up, was not determined. It is not likely, however,
that at one time this number of boats ever lay opposite the city. No
one who has been at Canton can forget the noisy, animating sight the
river offers, nor failed to have noticed the good-humored carefulness
with which boats of every size pass each other without collision.
It is difficult to describe the many kinds of craft found on Chinese
waters without the assistance of drawings. They are furnished with
stern sculls moving upon a pivot, and easily propelling the boat.
Large boats are furnished with two or three of these, which, when not
in use, are conveniently hauled in upon the side. They are provided
with oars, the loom and blade of which are fastened by withs, and work
through a band attached to a stake; the rower stands up and pushes his
oar with the same motion as that employed by the Venetian gondolier.
Occasionally an oarsman is seen rowing with his feet. The mast in some
large cargo boats consists of two sticks, resting on the gunwales,
joined at top, and so arranged as to be hoisted from the bow; in those
designed for residences no provision is made for a mast. Fishing boats,
lighters, and sea-going craft have one or two permanent masts. In all,
except the smallest, a wale or frame projects from the side, on which
the boatmen walk when poling the vessel. The sails in the south are
woven of strips of matting, sewed into a single sheet, and provided
with yards at the top and bottom; the bamboo ribs crossing it serve to
retain the hoops that run on the mast, and enable the boatmen to haul
them close on the wind. A driver is sometimes placed on the taffrail,
and a small foresail near the bow, but the mainsail is the chief
dependence. No Chinese boat has a bowsprit, and very few are coppered,
or have two decks, further than an orlop in the stern quarter in
which to stow provisions; no dead-lights give even a glimmer to these
recesses, which are necessarily small.
The internal arrangement of dwelling-boats is simple. The better sort
are from sixty to eighty feet long, and about fifteen wide, divided
into three rooms; the stem is sharp, and upholds a platform on which,
when they are moored alongside, it is easy to pass from one boat to
another. Each one is secured by ropes to large hawsers which run along
the whole line at the bow and stern. The room nearest the bow serves
for a lobby to the principal apartment, which occupies about half the
body of the boat; the two are separated by trellis bulkheads, but
the sternmost room, or sleeping apartment, is carefully screened.
Cooking and washing are performed on a high stern framework, which is
admirably contrived, by means of furnaces and other conveniences above
and hatches and partitions below deck, to serve all these purposes,
contain all the fuel and water necessary, and answer for a sleeping
place as well. By means of awnings and frameworks the top of the boat
also subserves many objects of work or pleasure. The window-shutters
are movable, fitted for all kinds of weather and for flexibility of
arrangement, meeting all the demands of a family and the particular
service of a vessel; nothing can be more ingenious.
The handsomest of these craft are called _hwa ting_, or flower-boats,
and are let to parties for pleasure excursions on the river; a large
proportion of them are also the abodes of public women. The smaller
sorts at Canton are generally known as _tankia_ boats; they are about
twenty-five feet long, contain only one room, and are fitted with
moveable mats to cover the whole vessel; they are usually rowed by
women. In these “egg-houses” whole families are reared, live, and die;
the room which serves for passengers by day is a bedroom by night; a
kitchen at one time, a washroom at another, and a nursery always.
~DWELLERS ON THE WATER.~
As to this custom of living upon the water, we have an interesting
testimony of its practice so far back as the fourteenth century, from
the letter of a Dominican Friar in 1330. “The realm of Cathay,” writes
the missionary, “is peopled passing well.... And there be many great
rivers and great sheets of water throughout the Empire; insomuch that a
good half of the realm and its territory is under water. And on these
waters dwell great multitudes of people because of the vast population
that there is in the said realm. They build wooden houses upon boats,
and so their houses go up and down upon the waters; and the people go
trafficking in their houses from one province to another, whilst they
dwell in these houses with all their families, with their wives and
children, and all their household utensils and necessaries. And so they
live upon the waters all the days of their life. And there the women be
brought to bed, and do everything else just as people do who dwell upon
dry land.”[357]
It is unnecessary to particularize the various sorts of lighters or
_chop-boats_ found along the southern coast, the passenger boats plying
from town to town along the hundreds of streams, and the smacks,
revenue cutters, and fishing craft to be seen in all waters, except to
call attention to their remarkable adaptation for the ends in view. The
best sorts are made in the southern provinces; those seen at Tientsin
or Niuchwang suffer by comparison for cleanliness, safety, and speed,
owing partly to the high price of wood and the less use made of them
for dwellings. On the head waters of the River Kan the boats are of a
peculiarly light construction, with upper works entirely of matting,
and the hull like a crescent, well fitted to encounter the rapids and
rocks which beset their course.
~REVENUE BOATS AND JUNKS.~
Besides these various kinds the revenue service employs a narrow,
sharp-built boat, propelled by forty or fifty rowers, armed with
swivels, spears, boarding-hooks, and pikes, and lined on the sides
with a menacing array of rattan shields painted with tigers’ heads.
Smugglers have similarly made boats, and now and then imitate the
government boats in their appearance, which, on their part, often
compete with them in smuggling. In 1863 the imperial government was
induced to adopt a national flag for all its own vessels, which will
no doubt gradually extend to merchant craft. It is triangular in
shape, and has a dragon with the head looking upward. It is usual
for naval officers to exhibit long yellow flags with their official
titles at full length; the vessels under them are distinguished by
various pennons. Junks carry a great assortment of flags, triangular
and square, of white, red, and other colors, most of them bearing
inscriptions. The number of governmental boats and war junks, and those
used for transporting the revenue and salt, is proportionately very
small; but if all the craft found on the rivers and coasts of China
be included, their united tonnage perhaps equals that of all other
nations put together. The dwellers on the water near Canton are not,
as has been sometimes said, debarred from living ashore. A boat can be
built cheaper than a brick house, and is equally comfortable; it is
kept clean easier, pays no ground-rent, and is not so obnoxious to fire
and thieves. Most of them are constructed of fir or pine and smeared
with wood oil; the seams are caulked with rattan shavings and paid
over with a cement of oil and gypsum. The sailing craft are usually
flat-bottomed, sharp forward, and guided by an enormous rudder which
can be hoisted through the open stern sheets when in shallow waters.
The teak-wood anchors have iron-bound flukes, held by coir or bamboo
hawsers--now often replaced by iron chain and grapnel.[358]
The old picturesque junk, with its bulging hull, high stern, and great
eyes on the bow, is rapidly disappearing before steamers. Its original
model is said to be a huge sea monster; the teeth at the cutwater and
top of the bow define its mouth, the long boards on each side of the
bow form the armature of the head, the eyes being painted on them,
the masts and sails are the fins, and the high stern is the tail
frisking aloft. The cabins look more like niches in a sepulchre than
the accommodations for a live passenger. The crew live upon deck most
of the time, and are usually interested in the trade of the vessel
or an adventure of their own. The hold is divided into water-tight
compartments, a contrivance that has its advantages when the vessel
strikes a rock, but prevents her carrying a cargo comparable to her
size. The great number of passengers which have been stowed in these
vessels entailed a frightful loss of life when they were wrecked.
In February, 1822, Capt. Pearl, of the English ship Indiana, coming
through Gaspar Straits, fell in with the cargo and crew of a wrecked
junk, and saved one hundred and ninety-eight persons (out of one
thousand six hundred with whom she had left Amoy), whom he landed at
Pontianak; this humane act cost him $55,000.[359]
~BRIDGES IN CHINA.~
Among secondary architectural works deserving notice are bridges and
honorary portals. There is good reason for supposing that the Chinese
have been acquainted with the arch from very early times, though they
make comparatively little use of it. Certain bridges have pointed
arches, others have semicircular, and others approach the form of a
horse-shoe, the transverse section of an ellipse, or even like the
Greek Ω, the space being widest at the top. In some the arch
is high for the accommodation of boats passing beneath; and where no
heavy wains or carriages cross and jar the fabric, it can safely be
made light. A graceful specimen of this class is the structure seen in
the illustration on page 754. This bridge, though serving no practical
purpose, is one of the greatest ornaments about the Emperor’s summer
palace of Yuen-ming Yuen. The material is marble; its summit is reached
by forty steps rising abruptly from the causeway, and impracticable,
of course, for any but pedestrians.
[Illustration: Bridge in Wan-shao Shan Gardens, near Peking.]
The balustrades and paving of the long marble bridges near Peking and
Hangchau, some of them adorned with statues of elephants, lions, and
other animals, present a pleasing effect, while their solidity and
endurance of freshes running over the top at times attest the skill
of the architects. Wooden bridges furnish means for crossing small
streams in all parts of the land; when the river is powerful, or the
rise and fall of the tide great, it is crossed on boats fastened
together, with contrivances for drawing out two or three in the centre
when the passing craft demand a passage. At Tientsin, Ningpo, and other
cities, this means of crossing entails little delay in comparison to
its cheapness. Some of the bridges in and about Peking are beautiful
structures; their erection, however, presented no difficult problem,
while that at Fuhchau was a greater feat of engineering. It is about
four hundred yards long and five wide, consisting of nearly forty
solid buttresses of hewn stone placed at unequal distances and joined
by slabs of granite; some of these slabs are three feet square and
forty-five feet long. They support a granite pavement. The bridge was
formerly lined with shops, which the increased traffic has caused to
be removed. Another similar bridge lies seven miles north of it on the
River Min, and a third of equal importance at the city of Chinchew,
north of Amoy. Some of the mountain streams and passes in the west and
north are crossed by rope bridges of ingenious construction, and by
chain suspension bridges.
Mr. Lowrie describes a bridge at Changchau, near Amoy, and these
structures are more numerous in the eastern provinces than elsewhere.
“It is built on twenty-five piles of stone about thirty feet apart,
and perhaps twenty feet each in height. Large round beams are laid
from pile to pile, and smaller ones across in the simplest and rudest
manner; earth is then placed above these and the top paved with brick
and stone. One would suppose that the work had been assigned to a
number of different persons, and that each one had executed his part
in such manner as best suited his own fancy, there being no regularity
whatever in the paving. Bricks and stone were intermingled in the most
confused manner, and the railing was here wood and there stone. We were
particularly struck with the length of some of the granite stones used
in paving the bridge; one was eight, another eleven, and three others
eighteen paces, or about forty-five feet long, and two broad. The
bridge averaged eight or ten feet in width, and about half its length
on both sides was occupied by shops.”[360]
A causeway of ninety arches crosses a feeder of the Grand Canal near
Hangchau. The stones for the arch in one bridge noticed by Barrow were
cut so as to form a segment of the arch, and at each end were mortised
into transverse blocks of stone stretching across the bridge; they
decreased in length from ten feet at the spring of the arch to three
at the vertex, and the summit stone was mortised, like the rest, into
two transverse blocks lying next to it.[361] The tenons were short,
and the disposition of the principal pieces such that a bridge built
in this way would not support great weights or endure many ages. The
mode of placing the pieces can be seen in the cut. In other instances
the stones are laid in the same manner as in Europe; many small bridges
over creeks and canals have cambered or straight arches. When one of
these structures falls into ruins or becomes dangerous, the people
seldom bestir themselves to repair the damage, preferring to wait for
the government; they thereby lose the benefit of self-dependence and
action.
[Illustration: Bridge showing the mode of Mortising the Arch.]
~PAI-LAU, OR HONORARY PORTALS.~
It is singular how the term _triumphal arch_ came to be applied to
the _pai-fang_ and _pai-lau_, or honorary portals or tablets, of the
Chinese; for a triumph was perhaps never heard of in that country,
and these structures are never arched. They consist merely of a broad
gateway flanked with two smaller ones, and suggest a turnpike gate with
side-ways for foot passengers rather than a triumphal monument. They
are scattered in great numbers over the provinces, and are erected in
honor of distinguished persons, or by officers to commemorate their
parents, by special favor from the Emperor. Some are put up in honor of
women who have distinguished themselves for their chastity and filial
duty, or to widows who have refused a second marriage. Permission to
erect them is considered a high honor, and perhaps the term _triumphal_
was given them from this circumstance. The economical and peaceful
nature of such honors conferred upon distinguished men in China is
most characteristic; a man is allowed to build a stone gateway to
himself or his parents, and the Emperor furnishes the inscription, or
perhaps sends with it a patent of nobility. Their general arrangement
is exhibited in the title-page of this work; the two characters, _shing
chí_, at the top, meaning ‘sacred will,’ intimate that it was erected
by his Majesty’s permission.
Some of the _pai-lau_ are elaborately ornamented with carved work and
inscriptions; and as a protection to the frieze a ponderous covering
of tiles projects over the top, which, however, exposes the structure
to injury from tempests. They are placed in conspicuous places in
the outskirts of towns, and in the streets before temples or near
government edifices. Travellers looking for what they had read about
have sometimes strangely mistaken the gateways at the heads of streets
or the entrance to temples for the honorary portals.[362] Those built
of stone are fastened by mortises and tenons in the same manner as the
wooden ones; they seldom exceed twenty or twenty-five feet in height.
The skill and taste displayed in the symmetry and carving upon some
of them are creditable; but as the man in whose honor it is erected
is, generally speaking, “the architect of his own fame,” he prudently
considers the worth of that commodity, and makes an inferior structure
to what would have been done if his fellow-subjects, “deeply sensible
of the honor,” had come together to appoint a committee and open a
subscription list for the purpose. Among the numerous _pai-lau_ in
and near Peking, two or three deserve mention for their beauty. One
lies in the Confucian Temple in front of the _Pih-yung Kung_, and is
designed to enhance the splendor of its approach by presenting, as it
were, a frame before its façade. It is built of stone and overlaid with
square encaustic tiles of many hues. The arrangement of the colors,
the carving on the marble, and the fine proportions of the structure
render it altogether one of the most artistic objects in China.
Another like it is built in the Imperial Park, but the position is not
so advantageous. Fergusson points out the similarity between these
_pai-lau_ and certain Hindu gateways, and claims that India furnished
the model. The question of priority is hardly susceptible of proof;
but his fancy that a large _pai-lau_ in a street of Amoy presented a
simulated coffin on it above the principal cornice, leads us to suspect
that he was looking for what was never in the builder’s mind.
~MILITARY ARCHITECTURE--DRESS.~
The construction of forts and towers presents little worthy of
observation, since there is no other evidence of science than what
the erection of lines of massive stone wall displays. The port-holes
are too large for protection and the parapet too slight to resist
modern missiles. The Chinese idea of a fortification is a wall along
the water’s edge, with embrasures and battlements, and a plain wall
landward without port-holes or parapets, enclosing an area in which
a few houses accommodate the garrison and ammunition. Some erected
at the junction of streams are pierced on all sides; others are so
unscientifically planned that the walls can be scaled at angles where
not a single gun can be brought to bear. The towers are rectangular
edifices of brick on a stone foundation, forty feet square and fifty
or sixty high, to be entered by ladders through a door half way up the
side.
The forts in the neighborhood of Canton, probably among the best
in the Empire, are all constructed without fosse, bastion, glacis,
or counter-defence of any kind. Both arrangement and placement are
alike faulty: some are square and approachable without danger; others
circular on the outer face but with flank or rear exposed; others again
built on a hillside like a pound, so that the garrison, if dislodged
from the battlements, are forced to fly up the slope in full range of
their enemy’s fire. The gate is on the side, unprotected by ditch,
drawbridge, or portcullis, and poorly defended by guns upon the walls
or in the area behind. In general the points chosen for their forts
display a misapprehension of the true principles of defence, though
some may be noted as occupying commanding positions.
In recent times mud defences and batteries of sand-bags have proved a
much safer defence than such buildings against ships and artillery, and
show the aptitude of the people to adopt practical things. Though not
particularly resolute on the field, the Chinese soldier stands well to
his guns when behind a fortification of whose strength he is assured.
The forts which have recently been constructed under supervision of
European engineers are rapidly taking the place of native works in all
parts of the country.
Dress, like other things, undergoes its changes in China, and fashions
alter there as well as elsewhere, but they are not as rapid or as
striking as among European nations. The full costume of both sexes is,
in general terms, commodious and graceful, combining all the purposes
of warmth, beauty, and ease which could be desired, excepting always
the shaven crown and braided queue of the men and the crippled feet of
the women, in both of which fashions they have not less outraged nature
than deformed themselves. On this point different tastes exist, and
some prefer the close-fitting dress of Europeans to the loose robes
of Asiatics; but when one has become in a measure habituated to the
latter, one is willing to allow the force of the criticism that the
European male costume is “a mysterious combination of the inconvenient
and the unpicturesque: hot in summer and cold in winter, useless for
either keeping off rain or sun, stiff but not plain, bare without
being simple, not durable, not becoming, and not cheap.” The Chinese
dress has remained, in its general style, the same for centuries; and
garments of fur or silk are handed down from parent to child without
fear of attracting attention by their antique shapes. The fabrics most
worn are silk, cotton, and grass-cloth for summer, with the addition of
furs and skins in winter; woollen is used sparingly, and almost wholly
of foreign manufacture.
[Illustration: Barber’s Establishment, showing also the Dress of the
Common People.]
~VARIETY AND MATERIAL OF APPAREL.~
The principal articles of dress are inner and outer tunics of various
lengths made of cotton or silk, reaching below the loins or to the
feet; the lapel on the right side folds over the breast and fits close
about the neck, which is left uncovered. The sleeves are much wider
and longer than the arms, have no cuffs or facings, and in common
cases serve for pockets. A Chinese, instead of saying “he pocketed
the book,” would say “he sleeved it.” In robes of ceremony the end of
the sleeve resembles a horse’s hoof, and good breeding requires the
hand to be kept in a position to exhibit the cuff when sitting. In warm
weather one upper garment is deemed sufficient; in winter a dozen can
be put on without discommodity, and this number is sometimes actually
seen upon persons engaged in sedentary employments, or on those who sit
in the air. Latterly, underwear of flannel has become common among the
better dressed, who like the knitted fabric so close-fitting and warm.
The lower limbs are comparatively slightly protected; a pair of loose
trousers, covered to the knee by cloth stockings, is the usual summer
garment; tight leggings are pulled over both in winter and attached
to the girdle by loops; and as the trousers are rather voluminous and
the tunic short, the excess shows behind from under these leggings in
a rather unpleasant manner. Gentlemen and officers always wear a robe
with the skirt opened at the sides, which conceals this intermission of
the under apparel. The colors preferred for outer garments are various
hues of buff, purple, or blue.
The shoes are made of silk or cotton, usually embroidered for women’s
wear in red and other colors. The soles are of felt, sometimes of
paper inside a rim of felt, and defended on the bottom by hide. These
shoes keep the feet dry and unchilled on the tiles or ground, so that
a Chinese may be said really to carry the floor of his house under his
feet instead of laying it on the ground. The thick soles render it
necessary for ease in walking to round up their ends, which constrains
the toes into an elevated position so irksome that all go slipshod
who conveniently can do so. The cost of a cotton suit need not exceed
five dollars, and a complete silken one, of the gayest colors and best
materials, can easily be procured for twenty-five or thirty. Quilted
cotton garments are exceedingly common, and are so made as to protect
the whole person from the cold and obviate the need of fires. In the
north dressed sheepskin robes furnish bedding as well as garments, and
their durability will long make them more desirable than woven fabrics.
The ancient Chinese wore the hair long, bound upon the top of the
head, somewhat after the style of the Lewchewans; and taking pride in
its glossy black, called themselves the _black-haired race_. But in
1627 the Manchus, then in possession of only Liautung, issued an order
that all Chinese under them should adopt their coiffure as a sign of
allegiance, on penalty of death; the fashion thus begun by compulsion
is now followed from choice. The fore part of the head is shaved to
the crown and the hair braided in a single plait behind. Laborers
often wind it about the head or knot it into a ball out of the way
when barebacked or at work. The size of the queue can be enlarged by
permitting an additional line of hair to grow; the appearance it gives
the wearer is thus described by Mr. Downing, and the quotation is not
an unfair specimen of the remarks of travellers upon China: “At the
hotel one of the waiters was dressed in a peculiar manner about the
head. Instead of the hair being shaved in front, he had it cut round
the top of the forehead about an inch and a half in length. All the
other part was turned as usual and plaited down the back. This thin
semi-circular ridge of hair was then made to stand bolt upright, and as
each hair was separate and stiff as a bristle, the whole looked like a
very fine-toothed comb turned upward. This I imagined to be the usual
way of dressing the head by single unengaged youths, and of course must
be very attractive.” Thus what the wearer regarded as ill-looking, and
intended to braid in as soon as it was long enough, is here taken as
a device for beautifying himself in the eyes of those he never saw or
cared to see.
[Illustration: Tricks Played with the Queue.]
The people are vain of a long thick queue, and now and then play
each other tricks with it, as well as use it as a ready means for
correction; but nothing irritates them more than to cut it off. Men and
women oftener go bareheaded than covered, warding off the sun by means
of a fan; in winter felt or silk skull-caps, hoods, and fur protect
them from cold. Laborers shelter themselves from rain under an umbrella
hat and a grotesque thatch-work of leaves neatly sewn upon a coarse
network--very effectual for the purpose. In illustration of the remark
at the beginning of this chapter, it might be added that if they were
not worn on the head such hats would be called trays, so unlike are
they to the English article of that name. The formal head-dress is the
conical straw or felt hat so peculiar to this nation, usually covered
with a red fringe of silk or hair.
~OFFICIAL COSTUMES.~
The various forms, fabrics, colors, and ornaments of the dresses worn
by grades of officers are regulated by sumptuary laws. Citron-yellow
distinguishes the imperial family, but his Majesty’s apparel is less
showy than many of his courtiers, and in all that belongs to his own
personal use there is an appearance of disregard of ornament. The
five-clawed dragon is figured upon the dress and whatever pertains
to the Emperor, and in certain things to members of his family. The
monarchs of China formerly wore a sort of flat-topped crown, shaped
somewhat like a Cantab’s cap, and having a row of jewels pendent from
each side. The summer bonnet of officers is made of finely woven straw
covered with a red fringe; in winter it is trimmed with fur. A string
of beads hanging over an embroidered robe, a round knob on the cap,
thick-soled satin boots, two or three pouches for fans or chopsticks,
and occasionally a watch or two hanging from the girdle, constitute
the principal points of difference between the official and plebeian
costume. No company of men can appear more splendid than a large party
of officers in their winter robes made of fine, lustrous crapes,
trimmed with rich furs and brilliant with gay embroidery. In winter
a silk or fur spencer is worn over the robe, and forms a handsome
and warm garment. Lambskins are much used, and the downy coats of
unyeaned lambs, which, with the finer furs and the skins of hares, wild
cats, rabbits, foxes, wolves, otter, squirrels, etc., are worn by all
ranks. Some years ago a lad used to parade the streets of Canton, who
presented an odd appearance in a long spencer made of a tiger’s skin.
The Chinese like strong contrasts in the colors of their garments,
sometimes wearing yellow leggings underneath a light blue robe, itself
set off by a purple spencer.
~COSTUMES OF CHINESE WOMEN.~
The dress of women is likewise liable to few fluctuations, and all
ranks can be sure that the fashion will last as long as the gown. The
garments of both sexes among the common people resemble each other
more than in Western Asia. The tunic or short gown is open in front,
buttoning around the neck and under the arm, reaching to the knee, like
a smock-frock in its general shape. The trousers among the lower orders
are usually worn over the stockings, both being covered, on ceremonial
occasions, by a petticoat reaching to the feet. Laboring women, whose
feet are left their natural size, go barefoot or slipshod in the warm
latitudes, but cover their feet carefully farther north. Both sexes
have a paucity of linen in their habiliments--if not a shiftless, the
Chinese certainly are a shirtless race, and such undergarments as they
have are not too often washed.
The head-dress of married females is becoming and even elegant. The
copious black hair is bound upon the head in an oval-formed knot, which
is secured in its place and shape by a broad pin placed lengthwise on
it, and fastened by a shorter one thrust across and under the bow. The
hair is drawn back from the forehead into the knot, and elevated a
little in front by combing it over the finger; in order to make it lie
smooth the locks are drawn through resinous shavings moistened in warm
water, which also adds an extra gloss, at the cost, however, of injury
to the hair. In front of the knot a tube is often inserted, in which
flowers can be placed. The custom of wearing them is nearly universal,
fresh blossoms being preferred when obtainable, and artificial at other
times. Having no covering on the head there is more opportunity than
in the west to display pretty devices in arranging the hair. A widow
is known by her white flowers, a maiden by one or two plaits instead
of a knot, and so on; in their endless variety of form and ornament,
Chinese women’s head-dresses furnish a source of constant study. Mr.
Stevens tells us that the animated appearance of the dense crowd which
assembled on the bridge and banks of the river at Fuhchau when he
passed in 1835, was still more enlivened by the flowers worn by the
women.
[Illustration: PROCESSION OF LADIES TO AN ANCESTRAL TEMPLE.]
Matrons wear an embroidered fillet on the forehead, an inch or more
wide, pointed between the eyebrows, and covering the front of the hair
though not concealing the baldness which often comes on early from the
resinous bandoline used. This fillet is embroidered, or adorned with
pearls, a favorite ornament with Chinese ladies. The women along
the Yangtsz’ River wear a band of fur around the head, which relieves
their colorless complexions. A substitute for bonnets is common in
summer, consisting of a flat piece of straw trimmed with a fringe of
blue cloth. The hair of children is unbound, but girls more advanced
allow the side locks to reach to the waist and plait a tress down the
neck; their coarse hair does not curl, and the beautiful luxuriance of
curls and ringlets seen in Europe is entirely unknown. False hair is
made use of by both sexes, the men being particularly fond of eking
out their queues to the fullest length. Gloves are not worn, the long
sleeves being adequate for warmth; in the north the ears are protected
from freezing by ear-tabs lined with fur, and often furnished with a
tiny looking-glass on the outside.
The dress of gentlewomen, like that of their husbands, is regulated by
sumptuary laws, but none of these prevent their costumes from being
as splendid as rich silks, gay colors, and beautiful embroidery can
make them. The neck of the robe is protected by a stiff band, and the
sleeves are large and long, just the contrary of the common style,
which being short allows the free use and display of a well-turned arm.
The official embroidery allowed to the husband is changed to another
kind on his wife’s robe indicative of the same rank. No belt or girdle
is seen, nor do stays compress the waist to its lasting injury. One of
the prettiest parts of a lady’s dress is the petticoat, which appears
about a foot below the upper robe covering the feet. Each side of the
skirt is plaited about six times, and in front and rear are two pieces
of buckram to which they are attached; the plaits and front pieces are
stiffened with wire and lining. Embroidery is worked upon these two
pieces and the plaits in such a way that as the wearer steps the action
of the feet alternately opens and shuts them on each side, disclosing a
part or the whole of two different colored figures, as may be seen in
the illustration. The plaits are so contrived that they are the same
when seen in front or from behind, and the effect is more elegant when
the colors are well contrasted. In order to produce this the plaits
close around the feet, unlike the wider skirt of western ladies.
Ornaments are less worn by the Chinese than other Asiatic nations. The
men suspend a string of fragrant beads together with the tobacco-pouch
from the jacket lapel, or occasionally wear seal-rings, finger-rings,
and armlets of strass, stone, or glass. They are by law prohibited
from carrying weapons of any sort. The women wear bangles, bracelets,
and ear-rings of glass, stone, and metal; most of these appendages
are regarded more as amulets to ward off evil influences than mere
ornaments. Felicitous charms, such as aromatic bags, old coins, and
rings, are attached to the persons of children, and few adults venture
to go through life without some preservative of this kind; no sacred
thread or daub of clay, as in India, is known, however, nor any image
of a saint or other figurine, as in Romish countries. The queer custom
of wearing long nails is practised by comparatively few; and although a
man or woman with these appendages would not be deemed singular, it is
not regarded as in good taste by well-bred persons. Pedantic scholars
wear them more than other professions, in order to show that they
are above manual labor; but the longest set the writer ever saw was,
oddly enough, on a carpenter’s fingers, who thereby showed that he was
not obliged to use his tools. Fine ladies protect theirs with silver
sheaths.
~MANNER OF COMPRESSING THE FEET.~
The practice of compressing the feet, so far as investigation has
gone, is more an inconvenient than a dangerous custom, for among the
many thousands of patients who have received aid in the missionary
hospitals, few have presented themselves with ailments chargeable to
this source. A difference of opinion exists respecting its origin.
Some accounts state that it arose from a desire thereby to remove
the reproach of the club feet of a popular empress, others that it
gradually came into use from the great admiration of and attempt to
imitate delicate feet, and others that it was imposed by husbands to
keep their wives from gadding.[363] Its adoption was gradual, however
it may have commenced, and not without resistance. It is practised by
all classes of society except the Manchus and Tartars, poor as well
as rich (for none are so poor as not to wish to be fashionable); and
so habituated does one become to it after a residence in the country,
that a well-dressed lady with large feet seems to be denationalized.
There is no certain age at which the operation must be commenced, but
in families of easy circumstances the bandages are put on before five;
otherwise not until betrothment, or till seven or eight years old. The
whole operation is performed, and the shape maintained, by bandages,
which are never permanently removed or covered by stockings; iron or
wooden shoes are not used, the object being rather to prevent the feet
growing than to make them smaller.
[Illustration: Appearance of the Bones of a Foot when Compressed.]
A good account of the effects of this practice is given in a paper
contained in the _Transactions of the Royal Society of London_, written
by Dr. Cooper, detailing the appearances presented on dissection. The
foot belonged to a person in low life; it was five and one-fourth
inches long, which is full eighteen lines over the most fashionable
size. The big toe was bent upward and backward on the foot, and the
second twisted under it and across, so that the extremity reached the
inner edge of the foot. The third toe somewhat overlapped the second,
but lying less obliquely, and reaching to the first joint of the great
toe. The ball of the great toe, much flattened, separated these two
from the fourth and fifth toes. The fourth toe stretched obliquely
inward under the foot, but less so than the little toe, which passed
under and nearly across the foot, and had been bound down so strongly
as to bend the tarsal bone. The dorsum of the foot was much curved,
and a deep fissure crossed the sole and separated the heel and little
toe, as if the two ends of the foot had been forced together; this
was filled for three inches with a very condensed cellular tissue;
the instep was three and one-half inches high. The heel-bone, which
naturally forms a considerable angle with the ankle, was in a direct
line with the leg-bones; and the heel itself was large and flat,
covered with a peculiarly dense integument, and forming, with the end
of the metatarsal bone of the great toe and the two smallest toes
bent under the sole, the three points of taction in walking. When the
operation is begun earlier, and the bones are more flexible, four of
the toes are bent under the foot and only the big toe laid upon the
top. The development of the muscles of the calf being checked, the leg
tapers from the knee downward, though there is no particular weakness
in the limb. The appearance of the deformed member when uncovered is
shocking, crushed out of all proportion and beauty, and covered with
a wrinkled and lifeless skin like that of a washerwoman’s hand. It is
surprising how the circulation is kept up in the member without any
pain or wasting away; the natural supposition would be that if any
nutriment was conveyed to it, there would be a disposition to grow
until maturity was attained, and consequently constant pain ensue, or
else that it would be destroyed or mortify for want of nourishment.
[Illustration: Feet of Chinese Ladies.]
The gait of these victims of fashion can be imitated by a person
walking on the heels. Women walking alone swing their arms and step
quick and short, elderly women availing themselves, when practicable,
of an umbrella, or leaning upon the shoulder of a lad or maid for
support--literally making a walking-stick of them. The pain is said to
be severe at first, and a recurrence now and then is felt in the sole;
but the evident freedom from distress exhibited in the little girls who
are seen walking or playing in the streets, proves that the amount of
suffering and injurious effects upon life and health are perhaps not so
great as has been imagined. The case is different when the girl is not
victimized until ten or more years old. The toes are then bent under
and the foot forced into the smallest compass; the agony arising from
the constrained muscles and excoriated flesh is dreadful, while, too,
the shape of the member is, even in Chinese eyes, a burlesque upon the
beautiful littleness so much desired.
[Illustration: Shape of a Lady’s Shoe.]
~PREVALENCE OF THE FASHION.--LADIES’ SHOES.~
The opinion prevails abroad that only the daughters of the rich or
learned pay this price to Dame Fashion. A greater proportion is indeed
found among the well-to-do classes, and in the southern provinces near
the rivers the unfashionables form perhaps half of the whole; for
those who dwell in boats, and all who in early life may have lived on
the water or among the farmsteads, and slave girls sold in infancy
for domestics, are usually left in the happy though low-life freedom
of nature. Close observation in the northern provinces show general
adoption of the usage among the poor, whose feet are not, however,
usually so small as in the south. Foreigners, on their arrival at
Canton or Fuhchau, seeing so many women with natural feet on the boats
and about the streets, wonder where the “little-footed Celestials” they
had heard of were, the only specimens they see being a few crones by
the wayside mending clothes. Across the Mei ling range the proportion
increases. All the women who came to the hospital at Chusan in 1841,
to the number of eight hundred or one thousand, had their feet more or
less cramped; and some of them walked several miles to the hospital and
home again the same day. Although the operation may be less painful
than has been represented, the people are so much accustomed to it that
most men would refuse to wed a woman whose feet were of the natural
size; and a man who should find out that his bride had large feet when
he expected small ones would be exonerated if he instantly sent her
back to her parents. The _kin lien_, or ‘golden lilies,’ are desired as
the mark of gentility; the hope of rising to be one of the upper ten,
and escaping the roughness and hard work attached to the lower class,
goes far to strengthen even children to endure the pain and loss of
freedom consequent on the practice. The secret of the prevalence of
the cruel custom is the love of ease and praise; and not till the
principles of Christianity extend will it cease. In Peking, where the
Manchus have shown the advantages nature has over fashion, the example
of their women for two hundred and fifty years, aided by the earnest
efforts of the great Emperor Kanghí, has not had the least effect in
inducing Chinese ladies to give it up. The shoes are made of red silk
and prettily embroidered; but no one acquainted with Chinese society
would say that “if a lady ever breaks through the prohibition against
displaying her person, she presents her feet as the surest darts with
which a lover’s heart can be assailed!”[364]
Cosmetics are used by females to the serious injury of the skin. On
grand occasions the face is entirely bedaubed with white paint, and
rouge is added to the lips and cheeks, giving a singular starched
appearance to the physiognomy. A girl thus beautified has no need of a
fan to hide her blushes, for they cannot be seen through the paint, her
eye being the only index of emotion. The eyebrows are blackened with
charred sticks, and arched or narrowed to resemble a nascent willow
leaf, or the moon when first seen--as in the ballad translated by Mr.
Stent, which pictures the beauty as possessing
Eyebrows shaped like leaves of willows
Drooping over “autumn billows;”
Almond shaped, of liquid brightness,
Were the eyes of Yang-kuei-fei.[365]
A belle is described as having cheeks like the almond flower, lips
like a peach’s bloom, waist as the willow leaf, eyes bright as dancing
ripples in the sun, and footsteps like the lotus flower. Much time and
care is bestowed, or said to be, by females upon their toilet, but if
those in the upper classes have anything like the variety of domestic
duties which their sisters in common life perform, they have little
leisure left for superfluous adorning. If dramas give an index of
Chinese manners and occupations, they do not convey the idea that most
of the time of well-bred ladies is spent in idleness or dressing.
~TOILET PRACTICES.~
At his toilet a Chinese uses a basin of tepid water and a cloth, and
it has been aptly remarked that he never appears so dirty as when
trying to clean himself. Shaving is done by the barber, for no man can
shave the top of his head. Whiskers are never worn, even by the very
few who have them, and mustaches are not considered proper for a man
under forty. Snuff bottles and tobacco pipes are carried and used by
both sexes, but the practice of chewing betel-nut is confined to the
men, who, however, take much pains to keep their teeth white. Among
ornamental articles of dress, in none do they go to so much expense and
style as in the snuff bottle, which is often carved from stone, amber,
agate, and other rare minerals with most exquisite taste. Snuff is put
on the thumb-nail with a spoon fastened to the stopper--a more cleanly
way than the European mode of “pinching.”[366]
The articles of food which the Chinese eat, and the mode and ceremonies
attending their feasts, have aided much, in giving them the odd
character they bear abroad, though uncouth or unsavory viands form
an infinitesimal portion of their food, and ceremonious feasts not
one in a thousand of their repasts. Travellers have so often spoken
of birdsnest soup, canine hams, and grimalkin fricassees, rats,
snakes, worms, and other culinary novelties, served up in equally
strange ways, that their readers get the idea that these articles
form as large a proportion of the food as their description does of
the narrative. In general, the diet of the Chinese is sufficient
in variety, wholesome, and well cooked, though many of the dishes
are unpalatable to a European from the vegetable oils used in their
preparation, and the alliaceous plants introduced to savor them. In
the assortment of dishes, Barrow has truly said that “there is a wider
difference, perhaps, between the rich and the poor of China than in any
other country. That wealth, which if permitted would be expended in
flattering the vanity of its possessors, is now applied to the purchase
of dainties to pamper the appetite.”
The proportion of animal food is probably smaller among the Chinese
than other nations on the same latitude, one platter of fish or flesh,
and sometimes both, being the usual allowance on the tables of the
poor. Rice, maize, Italian millet, and wheat furnish most of the cereal
food; the first is emphatically the staff of life, and considered
indispensable all over the land. Its long use is indicated in the
number of terms employed to describe it and the variety of allusions to
it in common expressions. To _take a meal_ is _chih fan_, ‘eat rice;’
and the salutation equivalent to _how d’ye?_ is _chih kwo fan?_ ‘have
you eaten rice?’ The grain is deprived of its skin by wooden pestles
worked in a mortar by levers, either by a water-wheel or more commonly
by oxen or men. It is cleaned by rubbing it in an earthen dish scored
on the inside, and steamed in a shallow iron boiler partly filled with
water, over which a basket or sieve containing the rice is supported
on a framework; a wooden dish fits over the whole and confines the
steam. By this process the kernels are thoroughly cooked without
forming a pasty mass, as is too often the result when boiled by cooks
in Christian countries. Bread, vegetables, and other articles are
cooked in a similar manner; four or five sieves, each of them full and
nicely fitting into each other, are placed upon the boiler and covered
with a cowl; in the water beneath, which supplies the steam, meats or
other things are boiled at the same time. Wheat flour is boiled into
cakes, dumplings, and other articles, but not baked into bread. Maize,
buckwheat, oats, and barley are not ground, but the grain is cooked
in various ways, alone or mixed with other dishes. Italian millet,
or canary-seed (_Setaria_), furnishes a large amount of nutritious
cereal food in the north; the flour is yellow and sweet, and boiled or
baked for eating, often seasoned with jujube plums in the cakes. Its
cultivation is easy, and its prolific crop makes up in a measure for
the small seeds; ten thousand kernels have been counted on one spike in
a good season.
~VEGETABLES EATEN BY THE CHINESE.~
The Chinese have a long list of culinary vegetables, and much of their
agriculture consists in rearing them. Leguminous and cruciferous plants
occupy the largest part of the kitchen garden; more than twenty sorts
of peas and beans are cultivated, some for camels and horses, but
mostly for men. _Soy_ is made by boiling the beans and mixing water,
salt, and wheat, and producing fermentation by yeast; its quality is
inferior to the foreign. Another more common condiment, called bean
curd or bean jam, is prepared by boiling and grinding black beans and
mixing the flour with water, gypsum, and turmeric. The consumption
of cabbage, broccoli, kale, cauliflower, cress, colewort, and other
cruciferous plants is enormous; a great variety of modes are adopted
for cooking, preserving, and improving them. The leaves and stems of
many plants besides those are included in the variety of greens, and
a complete enumeration of them would form a curious list. Lettuce,
sow thistle (_Sonchus_), spinach, celery, dandelion, succory, sweet
basil, ginger, mustard, radishes, artemisia, amaranthus, tacca, pig
weed (_Chenopodium_), burslane, shepherd’s purse, clover, ailantus,
and others having no English names, all furnish green leaves for
Chinese tables. Garlics, leeks, scallions, onions, and chives are
eaten by all classes, detected upon all persons, and smelt in all
rooms where they are eating or cooking. Carrots, gourds, squashes,
cucumbers, watermelons, tomatoes, turnips, radishes, brinjals,
pumpkins, okers, etc., are among the list of garden vegetables; the
variety of cucurbitaceous plants extends to nearly twenty. Most of
these vegetables are inferior to the same articles in the markets
of western cities, where science has improved their size or flavor.
Several aquatic plants increase the list, among which the nelumbium
covers extensive marshes in the eastern and northern provinces,
otherwise unsightly and barren. The root is two or three feet long,
and pierced longitudinally with several holes; when boiled it is of a
yellowish color and sweetish taste, not unlike a turnip. Taro is used
less than the nelumbium, and so are the water-caltrops (_Trapa_) and
water-chestnuts. The taste of water-caltrops when boiled resembles that
of new cheese; water-chestnuts are the round roots of a kind of sedge,
and resemble that fruit in color more than in taste, which is mealy and
crisp. The sweet potato is the most common tuber; although the Irish
potato has been cultivated for scores of years it has not become a
common vegetable among the people, except on the borders of Mongolia.
~COMMON TABLE FRUITS.~
The catalogue of fruits comprises most of those occurring elsewhere in
the tropic and temperate zones, and China is probably the earliest home
of the peach, plum, and pear. The pears are large and juicy, sometimes
weighing eight or ten pounds; the white and strawberry pear are equal
to any western variety. The apples are rather dry and insipid. The
peaches, plums, quinces, and apricots are better, and offer many good
varieties. Cherries are almost unknown. The orange is the common
fruit at the south, and the baskets, stalls, and piles of this golden
fruit, mixed with and heightened by contrast with other sorts and
with vegetables, which line the streets of Canton and Amoy in winter,
present a beautiful sight. Many distinct species of Citrus, as the
lemon, kumquot, pumelo, citron, and orange, are extensively cultivated.
The most delicious is the _chu-sha kih_, or ‘mandarin orange;’ the
skin, when ripe, is of a cinnabar red color, and adheres to the pulp
by a few loose fibres. The citron is more prized for its fragrance
than taste, and the thick rind is now and then made more abundant by
cutting it into strips when growing, each of which becomes a roundish
end like a finger, whence the name of _Fuh shao_, or ‘Buddha’s hand,’
given it. It will remain uncorrupt for two or three months, diffusing
an agreeable perfume.
Chapter VI. contains brief notices of other fruits. The banana and
persimmon are common, and several varieties are enumerated of each;
the plantain is eaten raw and cooked, and forms a large item in the
subsistence of the poor. The pomegranate, carambola or tree gooseberry,
mango, custard-apple, pine-apple, rose-apple, bread-fruit, fig, guava,
and olive, some of them as good and others inferior to what are found
in other countries, increase the list. The _whampe_, _líchí_, _lungan_,
or ‘dragon’s eyes,’ and _loquat_, are the native names of four
indigenous fruits at Canton. The whampe (_Cookia_) resembles a grape in
size and a gooseberry in taste; the loquat or _pebo_ (_Eriobotrya_) is
a kind of medlar. The líchí looks like a strawberry in size and shape;
the tough, rough red skin encloses a sweet watery pulp of a whitish
color surrounding a hard seed. Grapes are plenty and cheap; in the
northern cities they are preserved during the winter, and even till
May, by constant care in regulating the temperature.
Chestnuts, walnuts, ground-nuts, filberts (_Torreya_), almonds, and the
seeds of the salisburia and nelumbium, are the most common nuts. The
Chinese date (_Rhamnus_) has a sweetish, acidulous flesh; the olive
is salted or pickled; the names of both these fruits are given them
because of a resemblance to the western sorts, for neither the proper
date nor olive grows in China. A pleasant sweetmeat, like cranberry, is
made from the seeds of the arbutus (_Myrica_), and another still more
acid from a sort of haw, both of them put up for exportation.
Preserved fruits are common, and the list of sweetmeats and delicacies
is increased by the addition of many roots, some of which are preserved
in syrup and others as comfits. Ginger, nelumbium roots, bamboo shoots,
the common potato, and other vegetables are thus prepared for export as
well as domestic consumption. The natives consume enormous quantities
of pickles of an inferior quality, especially cabbages and onions, but
foreigners consider them detestable. The Chinese eat but few spices;
black pepper is used medicinally as a tea, and cayenne pepper when the
pod is green.
Oils and fats are in universal use for cooking; crude lard or pork
fat, castor oil, sesamum oil, and that expressed from two species of
Camellia and the ground-nut, are all employed for domestic and culinary
purposes. The Chinese use little or no milk, butter, or cheese;
the comparatively small number of cattle raised and the consequent
dearness of these articles may have caused them to fall into disuse,
for they are all common among the Manchus and Mongols. A Chinese
table seems ill furnished to a foreigner when he sees neither bread,
butter, nor milk upon it, and if he express his disrelish of the oily
dishes or alliaceous stews before him, the Chinese thinks that he
delivers a sufficient retort to his want of taste when he answers,
“You eat cheese, and sometimes when it can almost walk.” Milk is used
a little, and no one who has lived in Canton can forget the prolonged
mournful cry of _ngao nai!_ of the men hawking it about the streets
late at night. Women’s milk is sold for the sustenance of infants and
superannuated people, the idea being prevalent that it is peculiarly
nourishing to aged persons.[367]
Sugar is grown only in Formosa and the three southern provinces, which
supply the others; neither molasses nor rum are manufactured from it.
No sugar is expressed from sorghum stalks, nor do the Chinese know
that it contains syrup. The tobacco is milder than the American plant;
it is smoked and not chewed or made into cigars, though these are
being imported from Manila in steadily increasing quantities, and find
favor among many of the wealthier Chinese; snuff is largely used. The
betel-nut is a common masticatory, made up of a slice of the nut and
the fresh leaf of the betel-pepper with a little lime rubbed on it. The
common beverages are tea and arrack, both of which are taken warm; cold
water is not often drunk, cold liquids of any kind being considered
unwholesome. The constant practice of boiling water before drinking, in
preparing tea, doubtless tends to make it less noxious, when the people
are not particular as to its sources. Coffee, chocolate, and cocoa are
unknown, as are also beer, cider, porter, wine, and brandy.
~KINDS OF ANIMAL FOOD USED.~
The meats consumed by the Chinese comprise, perhaps, a greater variety
than are used in other countries; while, at the same time, very little
land is appropriated to rearing animals for food. Beef is not a common
meat, chiefly from a Buddhistic prejudice against killing so useful
an animal. Mutton in the southern provinces is poor and dear compared
with its excellence and cheapness north of the Yangtsz’ River, where
the greater numbers of Mohammedans cause a larger demand for it. The
beef of the buffalo and the mutton of the goat are still less used;
pork is consumed more than all other kinds, and no meat can be raised
so economically. Hardly a family so poor that it cannot possess a pig;
the animals are kept even on the boats and rafts, to consume and fatten
upon what others leave. Fresh pork probably constitutes more than
half of the meat eaten by the Chinese; hams are tolerably plenty, and
a dish called “golden hams,” from the amber appearance of the joint,
makes a conspicuous object in feasts. Horseflesh, venison, wild boar,
and antelope are now and then seen, but in passing through the markets
mutton, pork, fowls, and fish are the viands which everywhere meet the
eye.
A few kittens and puppies are sold alive in cages, mewing and yelping
as if in anticipation of their fate, or from pain caused by the
pinching and handling they receive at the hands of dissatisfied
customers. Those intended for the table are usually fed upon rice, so
that if the nature of their food be considered, their flesh is far
more cleanly than that of the omnivorous hog; few articles of food
have, however, been so identified abroad with the tastes of the people
as kittens, puppies, and rats have with the Chinese. American school
geographies often contain pictures of a market-man carrying baskets
holding these unfortunate victims of a perverse taste (as we think), or
else a string of rats and mice hanging by their tails to a stick across
his shoulders, which almost necessarily convey the idea that such
things form the usual food of the people. Travellers hear beforehand
that the Chinese devour everything, and when they arrive in the country
straightway inquire if these animals are eaten, and hearing that such
is the case, perpetuate the idea that they form the common articles of
food. However commonly live kittens and puppies or dressed dogs may be
exposed for sale, one may live in a city like Canton or Fuhchau for
many years and never see rats offered for food, unless he hunts up
the people who sell them for medicine or aphrodisiacs; in fact, they
are not so easily caught as to be either common or cheap. A peculiar
prejudice in favor of black dogs and cats exists among natives of the
south; these animals invariably command a higher price than others, and
are eaten at midsummer in the belief that the meat ensures health and
strength during the ensuing year.
Rats and mice are, no doubt, eaten now and then, and so are many other
undesirable things, by those whom want compels to take what they can
get; but to put these and other strange eatables in the front of the
list gives a distorted idea of the everyday food of the people. There
are perhaps half a dozen restaurants in Canton city where dog’s-meat
appears upon the _menu_; it is, however, by no means an inexpensive
delicacy.[368] The flesh of rats is eaten by old women as a hair
restorative.
The blood of ducks, pigs, and sheep is used as food, or prepared for
medicine and as a paste; it forms an ingredient in priming and some
kind of varnish. It is coagulated into cakes for sale, and in cooking
is mixed with the meats and sauces. The blood of all animals is eaten
without repugnance so far as concerns religious scruples, except in the
case of Buddhist priests.
Frogs are caught in a curious manner by tying a young jumper lately
emerged from tadpole life to a line and bobbing him up and down in
the grass and grain of a rice field, where the old croakers are wont
to harbor. As soon as one of them sees the young frog sprawling and
squirming he makes a plunge at him and swallows him whole, whereupon he
is immediately conveyed to the frog-fisher’s basket, losing his life,
liberty, and lunch together, for the bait is rescued from his maw and
used again as long as life lasts.
~HATCHING DUCKS’ EGGS.~
Poultry, including chickens, geese, and ducks, are everywhere raised;
of the three the geese are the best flavored, but all of them are
reared cheaply and supply a large portion of the poor with the
principal meat they eat. The eggs of fowls and ducks are hatched
artificially, and every visitor to Canton remembers the duck-boats in
which those birds are hatched and reared and carried up and down the
river seeking for pasture along its muddy banks. Sheds are erected for
hatching, in which are a number of high baskets well lined to retain
the heat. Each one is placed over a fireplace, so that the heat shall
be conveyed to the eggs through the tile in its bottom and retained
in the basket by a close cover. When the eggs are brought a layer is
put into the bottom of each basket, and a fire kept in the room at a
uniform heat of about 80° F. After four or five days they are examined
in a strong light, to separate the addled ones; the others are put back
in the baskets and the heat kept up for ten days longer, when they are
all placed upon shelves in the centre of the shed and covered with
cotton and felt for fourteen days. At the end of the twenty-eighth day
the shells are broken to release the inmates, which are sold to those
who rear them. Pigeons are raised to a great extent; their eggs form an
ingredient in soups. Wild and water fowl are caught in nets or shot;
the wild duck, teal, grebe, wild goose, plover, snipe, heron, egret,
partridge, pheasant, and ortolan or rice bird are all procurable at
Canton, and the list could be increased elsewhere.
If the Chinese eat many things which are rejected by other peoples,
they are perfectly omnivorous with respect to aquatic productions; here
nothing comes amiss; all waters are vexed with their fisheries. Their
nets and other contrivances for capturing fish display great ingenuity,
and most of them are admirably adapted to the purpose. Rivers, creeks,
and stagnant pools, the great ocean and the little tank, mountain lakes
and garden ponds, tubs and rice fields, all furnish their quota to the
sustenance of man, and tend to explain, in a great degree, the dense
population. The right to fish in running streams and natural waters is
open to all, while artificial reservoirs, as ponds, pools, tanks, tubs,
etc., are brought into available use; near tide-water the rice grounds
are turned into fish-ponds in winter if they will thereby afford a
more profitable return. The inhabitants of the water are killed with
the spear, caught with the hook, scraped up by the dredge, ensnared by
traps, and captured by nets; they are decoyed to jump into boats by
painted boards, and frightened into nets by noisy ones, taken out of
the water by lifting nets and dived for by birds--for the cormorant
seizes what his owner could not easily reach. In short, every possible
way of catching or rearing fish is practised in one part of the
country or another. Tanks are placed in the streets, with water running
through them, where carp or perch are reared until they become so large
they can hardly turn round in their pens; eels and water-snakes of
every color and size are fed in tubs and jars until customers carry
them off.
King-crabs, cuttle-fish, sharks, sting-rays, gobies, tortoises,
turtles, crabs, prawns, crawfish, and shrimps add to the variety.
The best fish in the Canton market are the garoupa or rock cod,
pomfret, sole, mackerel, bynni carp or mango fish, and the polynemus,
erroneously called salmon. Carp and tench of many kinds, herring,
shad, perch, mullet, and bream, with others less common at the west,
are found in great abundance. They are usually eaten fresh, or merely
opened and dried in the sun, as stock-fish. Both salt and fresh-water
shell-fish are abundant. The oysters are not so well flavored as those
on the Atlantic coast of America; the crabs and prawns are excellent,
but the clams, mussels, and other fresh-water species are less
palatable. Insect food is confined to locusts and grasshoppers, grubs
and silk-worms; the latter are fried to a crisp when cooked. These and
water-snakes are decidedly the most repulsive things the Chinese eat.
Many articles of food are sought after by this sensual people for
their supposed aphrodisiac qualities, and most of the singular
productions brought from abroad for food are of this nature. The famous
birdsnest soup is prepared from the nest of a swallow (_Collocalia
esculenta_) found in caves and damp places in some islands of the
Indian Archipelago; the bird macerates the material of the nest from
seaweed (_Gelidium_ chiefly) in the crop, and constructs it by drawing
the food out in fibres, which are attached to the damp stone with the
bill. The nest has the same shape as those which chimney swallows
build, and holds the young against the cliffs; they rarely exceed three
or four inches in the longest diameter. The operation of cleaning is
performed by picking away each morsel of dirt or feathers from the
nest, and involves considerable labor. After they come forth perfectly
free from impurities they are stewed with pigeons’ eggs, spicery, and
other ingredients into a soup; when cooked they resemble isinglass, and
the dish depends upon sauces and seasoning for most of its taste. The
biche-de-mer, tripang, or sea-slug, is a marine substance procured
from the Polynesian Islands; it is sought after under the same idea of
its invigorating qualities, and being cheaper than the birdsnest is
a more common dish; when cooked it resembles pork-rind in appearance
and taste. Sharks’ fins and fish-maws are imported and boiled into
gelatinous soups that are nourishing and palatable; and the sinews,
tongues, palates, udders, and other parts of different animals are
sought after as delicacies. A large proportion of the numerous made
dishes seen at great feasts consists of such odd articles, most of
which are supposed to possess some peculiar strengthening quality.
~COOKING AMONG THE CHINESE.~
The art of cooking has not reached any high degree of perfection. Like
the French, it is very economical, and consists of stews and fried
dishes more than of baked or roasted. Salt is proportionately dear
from its preparation being a government monopoly, and this has led to
a large use of onions for seasoning. The articles of kitchen furniture
are few and simple; an iron boiler, shaped like the segment of a
sphere, for stewing or frying, a portable earthen furnace, and two or
three different shaped earthenware pots for boiling water or vegetables
constitute the whole establishment of thousands of families. A few
other utensils, as tongs, ladles, forks, sieves, mills, etc., are used
to a greater or less extent, though the variety is quite commensurate
with the simple cookery. Both meats and vegetables, previously hashed
into mouthfuls, are stewed or fried in oil or fat; they are not cooked
in large joints or steaks for the table of a household. Hogs are baked
whole for sacrifices and for sale in cook-shops, but before being eaten
are hashed and fried again. Cutting the food into small pieces secures
its thorough cooking with less fuel than it would otherwise require,
and is moreover indispensable for eating with chopsticks. Two or three
vegetables are boiled together, but meat soups are seldom seen; and the
immense variety of puddings, pastry, cakes, pies, custards, ragouts,
creams, etc., made in western lands is almost unknown in China.[369]
FOOTNOTES:
[347] _Voyage à Péking_, Vol. II., p. 173.
[348] It is said that when Ghengis in his invasion of China took a
city, his soldiers immediately set about pulling down the four walls
of the houses, leaving the overhanging roofs supported by the wooden
columns--by which process they converted them into excellent tents for
themselves and their horses.--_Encyclopædia Britannica_: Art. CHINA.
[349] James Fergusson, _History of Indian and Eastern Architecture_,
p. 687; compare also _Mémoires Concernant les Chinois_, where Chinese
architecture is treated of in almost every volume.
[350] The foreign literature upon this subject is as yet scant and
unimportant. Compare the rare and costly _Designs of Chinese Buildings,
Furniture, Dresses_, etc., _from Originals drawn in China by_ Mr.
Chambers, London, 1757, folio; J. M. Callery, _De l’Architecture
Chinoise_, in the _Revue d’Architecture_; Wm. Simpson, in _Transactions
of the Royal Institute of British Architects_, 1873-74, p. 33; _Notes
and Queries on China and Japan_.
[351] _Wanderings in China_, p. 98.
[352] Compare pp. 76 and 167.
[353] _Chinese Repository_, Vol. X., p. 473.
[354] _Travels in China_, p. 96.
[355] _Life in China_, p. 453.
[356] _Voyages à Peking_, Tome II., p. 79; Davis’ _Sketches_, Vol. I.,
p. 213; Fergusson, _Indian and Eastern Architecture_, 1876, p. 695;
Milne’s _Life in China_, p. 429 seq.; _Chinese Repository_, Vol. XIX.,
pp. 535-540.
[357] Yule, _Cathay and the Way Thither_, Vol. I., p. 243.
[358] Compare an article by W. F. Mayers in _Notes and Queries on
C. and J._, Vol. I., pp. 170-173 (with illustrations); Mrs. Gray,
_Fourteen Months in Canton_, passim; Dr. Edkins in _Journal N. C. Br.
R. A. Soc._, Vol. XI., p. 123; Doolittle, _Vocabulary_, Part III., No.
LXVIII; Engineer J. W. King in _The United Service_, Vol. II., p. 382
(Phila., 1880).
[359] _Chinese Repository_, Vol. VI., p. 149.
[360] _Chinese Repository_, Vol. XII., p. 528; Medhurst’s _Hohkeën
Dictionary_, Introduction pp. XXII, XXIII.
[361] Barrow’s _Travels_, p. 338.
[362] _Encyclopædia Americana_, Art. CANTON.
[363] It is recorded that Hau-Chu, of the Chin dynasty, in the year
A.D. 583 ordered Lady Yao to bind her feet so as to make them look
like the new moon; and that the evil fashion has since prevailed
against all subsequent prohibitions.--_Notes and Queries on China and
Japan_, Vol. II., pp. 27 and 43.
[364] Murray’s _China_, Vol. II., p. 266. Compare the _Chinese
Repository_, Vol. III., p. 537; _Rec. de Mém. de Médecine milit._
(Paris), 1862-63-64 passim; _Chinese Recorder_, Vols. I., II., and III.
passim (mostly a series of articles on this subject by Dr. Dudgeon);
_The Far East_, February, 1877, p. 27.
[365] _The Jade Chaplet_, p. 121.
[366] On Chinese costume, see Wm. Alexander, _The Costume of China_,
illustrated, London, 1805; _Mœurs et Coutumes des Chinois et leurs
costumes en couleur_, par J. G. Grohmann, Leipzig; Breton, _China:
Its Costume, Arts, etc._, 4 vols., translated from the French,
London, 1812; another translation is from Auguste Borget, _Sketches
of China and the Chinese_, London, 1842; _Illustrations of China and
its People. A series of two hundred photographs, with letterpress
descriptive of the places and people represented_, by J. Thompson,
London, 1874, 4 vols. quarto.
[367] Dr. Hobson mentions a case at Shanghai where he was called upon
to examine a child well-nigh dead with spurious hydrocephalus. Upon
investigation he found that the nurse, “a young healthy-looking woman,
with breasts full of milk to overflowing,” had “been in the habit
of selling her milk in small cupfuls to old persons, under the idea
of its highly nutritive properties, and was actually poisoning the
child dependent on it.” The nurse being promptly changed, the infant
recovered almost immediately.--_Journal N. C. Br. R. A. Soc._ New
Series, Vol. I., p. 51.
[368] Archdeacon Gray, _China_, Vol. II., p. 76.
[369] _Mémoires conc. les Chinois_, Tome XI., pp. 78 ff. C. C. Coffin
in the _Atlantic Monthly_, 1869, p. 747. Doolittle’s _Vocabulary_, Part
III., No. XVIII. M. Henri Cordier in the _Journal des Débats_, Nov. 19,
1879. _Notes and Queries on C. and J._, Vol. II., pp. 11 and 26.
CHAPTER XIV.
SOCIAL LIFE AMONG THE CHINESE.
~FACTORS IN CHINESE SOCIAL LIFE.~
The preceding chapter, in a measure, exhibits the attainments the
Chinese have reached in the comforts and elegances of living. These
terms, as tests of civilization, however, are so comparative that it is
rather difficult to define them; for the notions which an Englishman,
an Egyptian, and a Chinese severally might have of comfort and elegance
in the furniture and arrangement of their houses are almost as unlike
as their languages. If Fisher’s _Views of China_ be taken as a guide,
one can easily believe that the Chinese need little from abroad to
better their condition in these particulars; while if one listen to the
descriptions of some persons who have resided among them, it will be
concluded that they possess neither comfort in their houses, civility
in their manners, nor cleanliness in their persons. In passing to an
account of their social life, this variety of tastes should not be
overlooked; and if some points appear objectionable when taken alone,
a little further examination will, perhaps, show that they form part
of a system which requires complete reconstruction before it could be
happily and safely altered.
The observations of a foreigner upon Chinese society are likely to be
modified by his own feelings, and the way in which he has been treated
by natives there; but their behavior to him might be very unlike what
would be deemed good breeding among themselves. If a Chinese feared
or expected something from a foreigner, he would act toward him more
politely than if the contrary were the case; on the one hand better,
on the other worse, than he would toward one of his own countrymen
in like circumstances. In doing so, it may be remarked with regret
that he would only imitate the conduct of a host of foreigners who
visit China, and whose coarse remarks, rude actions, and general
supercilious conduct toward the natives ill comport with their superior
civilization and assumed advantages. One who looked at the matter
reasonably would not expect much true politeness among a people whose
conceit and ignorance, selfishness and hauteur, were nearly equal; nor
be surprised to find the intercourse between the extremes of society
present a strange mixture of brutality and commiseration, formality
and disdain. The separation of the sexes modifies and debases the
amusements, even of the most moral, leads the men to spend their
time in gambling, devote it to the pleasures of the table, or dawdle
it away when the demands of business, study, or labor do not arouse
them. Political parties, which exert so powerful an influence upon
the conduct of men in Christian countries, leading them to unite and
communicate with each other for the purpose of watching or resisting
the acts of government, do not exist; and where there is a general
want of confidence, such institutions as insurance companies, savings
or deposit banks, corporate bodies to build a railroad or factory,
and associations of any kind in which persons unite their funds and
efforts to accomplish an object, are not to be expected; they do not
exist in China, nor did they in Rome or ancient Europe. Nor will any
one expect to hear that literary societies or voluntary philanthropic
associations are common. These, as they are now found in the west, are
the products of Christianity alone, and we must wait for the planting
of the tree before looking for its fruit. The legal profession, as
distinct from the possession of office, is not an occupation in which
learned men can obtain an honorable livelihood; the priesthood is
confined to monasteries and temples, and its members do not enter
into society; while the practice of medicine is so entirely empirical
and strange that the few experienced practitioners are not enough to
redeem the class. These three professions, which elsewhere do so much
to elevate society and guide public opinion, being wanting, educated
men have no stimulus to draw them out into independent action. The
competition for literary degrees and official rank, the eager pursuit
of trade, or the dull routine of mechanical and agricultural labor,
form the leading avocations of the Chinese people. Unacquainted with
the intellectual enjoyments found in books and the conversation of
learned men, and having no educated taste, as we understand that term
(while, too, he cannot find such a thing as virtuous female society),
the Chinese resorts to the dice-box, the opium-pipe, or the brothel for
his pleasures, though even there with a loss of character among his
peers.
~RESULTS UPON SOCIETY OF SEPARATING THE SEXES.~
The separation of the sexes has many bad results, only partially
compensated by some conservative ones. Woman owes her present
elevation at the west to Christianity, not only in the degree of
respect, support, freedom from servile labor, and education which she
receives, but also in the reflex influences she exerts of a purifying,
harmonizing, and elevating character. Where the requirements of the
Gospel exert no force, her rights are more or less disregarded, and if
she become as debased as the men, she can exert little good influence
even upon her own family, still less upon the community. General mixed
society can never be maintained with pleasure unless the better parts
of human nature have the acknowledged preëminence, and where she, who
imparts to it all its gracefulness and purity, is herself uneducated,
unpolished, and immodest, the common sense of mankind sees its
impropriety. By advocating the partition of the sexes, legislators and
moralists in China have acted as they best could in the circumstances
of the case, and by preventing the evils beyond their remedy, provided
the best safeguards they could against general corruption. In her
own domestic circle a Chinese female, in the character and duties of
daughter, wife, or mother, finds as much employment, and probably as
many enjoyments, as the nature of her training has fitted her for. She
does not hold her proper place in society simply because she has never
been taught its duties or exercised its privileges.
In ordinary cases the male and female branches of a household are
strictly kept apart; not only the servants, but even brothers and
sisters do not freely associate after the boys commence their studies.
At this period of life, or even earlier, an anxious task devolves
upon parents, which is to find suitable partners for their children.
Betrothment is entirely in their hands, and is conducted through the
medium of a class of persons called _mei-jin_, or go-betweens, who are
expected to be well acquainted with the character and circumstances of
the parties. Mothers sometimes contract their unborn progeny on the
sole contingency of a difference of sex, but the usual age of forming
these engagements is ten, twelve, or older, experience having shown
that the casualties attending it render an earlier period undesirable.
~BETROTHMENT AND PRELIMINARIES OF MARRIAGE.~
There are six ceremonies which constitute a regular marriage, though
their details vary much in different parts of the Empire: 1. The
father and elder brother of the young man send a go-between to the
father and brother of the girl, to inquire her name and the moment of
her birth, that the horoscope of the two may be examined, in order to
ascertain whether the proposed alliance will be a happy one. 2. If the
eight characters[370] seem to augur aright, the boy’s friends send the
_mei-jin_ back to make an offer of marriage. 3. If that be accepted,
the second party is again requested to return an assent in writing. 4.
Presents are then sent to the girl’s parents according to the means of
the parties. 5. The go-between requests them to choose a lucky day for
the wedding. 6. The preliminaries are concluded by the bridegroom going
or sending a party of friends with music to bring his bride to his own
house. The match-makers contrive to multiply their visits and prolong
the negotiations, when the parties are rich, to serve their own ends.
In Fuhkien parents often send pledges to each other when their children
are mere infants, and registers containing their names and particulars
of nativity are exchanged in testimony of the contract. After this
has been done it is impossible to retract the engagement, unless one
of the parties becomes a leper or is disabled. When the children are
espoused older, the boy sometimes accompanies the go-between and the
party carrying the presents to the house of his future mother-in-law,
and receives from her some trifling articles, as melon-seeds, fruits,
etc., which he distributes to those around. Among the presents sent
to the girl are fruits, money, vermicelli, and a ham, of which she
gives a morsel to each one of the party, and sends its foot back. These
articles are neatly arranged, and the party bringing them is received
with a salute of fire-crackers.
From the time of engagement until marriage a young lady is required
to maintain the strictest seclusion. Whenever friends call upon her
parents she is expected to retire to the inner apartments, and in
all her actions and words guard her conduct with careful solicitude.
She must use a close sedan whenever she visits her relations, and in
her intercourse with her brothers and the domestics in the household
maintain great reserve. Instead of having any opportunity to form those
friendships and acquaintances with her own sex which among ourselves
become a source of so much pleasure at the time and advantage in after
life, the Chinese maiden is confined to the circle of her relations
and her immediate neighbors. She has few of the pleasing remembrances
and associations that are usually connected with school-day life, nor
has she often the ability or opportunity to correspond by letter with
girls of her own age. Seclusion at this time of life, and the custom
of crippling the feet, combine to confine women in the house almost
as much as the strictest laws against their appearing abroad; for in
girlhood, as they know only a few persons except relatives, and can
make very few acquaintances after marriage, their circle of friends
contracts rather than enlarges as life goes on. This privacy impels
girls to learn as much of the world as they can, and among the rich
their curiosity is gratified through maid-servants, match-makers,
pedlers, visitors, and others. Curiosity also stimulates young ladies
to learn something of the character and appearance of their intended
husbands, but the rules of society are too strict for young persons to
endeavor to form a personal attachment, though it is not impossible
for them to see each other if they wish, and there are, no doubt, many
contracts suggested to parents by their children.
The office of match-maker is considered honorable, and both men and
women are employed to conduct nuptial negotiations. Great confidence
is reposed in their judgment and veracity, and as their employment
depends somewhat upon their tact and character, they have every
inducement to act with strict propriety in their intercourse with
families. The father of the girl employs their services in collecting
the sum agreed upon in the contract, which, in ordinary circumstances,
varies from twenty-five to forty dollars, increasing to a hundred and
over according to the condition of the bridegroom; until that is paid
the marriage does not take place. The presents sent at betrothment are
sometimes costly, consisting of silks, rice, cloths, fruits, etc.; the
bride brings no dower, but both parents frequently go to expenses they
can ill afford when celebrating the nuptials of their children, as the
pride of family stimulates each party to make undue display.
~MARRIAGE CEREMONIES AND CUSTOMS.~
The principal formalities of a marriage are everywhere the same, but
local customs are observed in some regions which are quite unknown
and appear singular elsewhere. In Fuhkien, when the lucky day for
the wedding comes, the guests assemble in the bridegroom’s house to
celebrate it, where also sedans, a band of music, and porters are
in readiness. The courier, who acts as guide to the chair-bearers,
takes the lead, and in order to prevent the onset of malicious demons
lurking by the road, a baked hog or large piece of pork is carried in
front, that the procession may safely pass while these hungry souls
are devouring the meat. Meanwhile the bride arrays herself in her
best dress and richest jewels. Her girlish tresses have already been
bound up, and her hair arranged by a matron, with due formality; an
ornamental and complicated head-dress made of rich materials, not
unlike a helmet or corona, often forms part of her coiffure. Her
person is nearly covered by a large mantle, over which is an enormous
hat like an umbrella, that descends to the shoulders and shades the
whole figure. Thus attired she takes her seat in the red gilt marriage
sedan, called _hwa kiao_, borne by four men, in which she is completely
concealed. This is locked by her mother or some other relative, and the
key given to one of the bridemen, who hands it to the bridegroom or his
representative on reaching his house.
The procession is now rearranged, with the addition of as many red
boxes and trays to contain the wardrobe, kitchen utensils, and the
feast, as the means of the family or the extent of her paraphernalia
require. As the procession approaches the bridegroom’s house the
courier hastens forward to announce its coming, whereupon the music
strikes up, and fire-crackers salute her until she enters the gate.
As she approaches the door the bridegroom conceals himself, but the
go-between brings forward a young child to salute her, while going to
seek the closeted bridegroom. He approaches with becoming gravity and
opens the sedan to hand out his bride, she still retaining the hat and
mantle; they approach the ancestral tablet, which they reverence with
three bows, and then seat themselves at a table upon which are two
cups of spirits. The go-between serves them, though the bride can only
make the motions of drinking, as the large hat completely covers her
face. They soon retire into a chamber, where the husband takes the hat
and mantle from his wife, and sees her, perhaps, for the first time
in his life. After he has considered her for some time, the guests
and friends enter the room to survey her, when each one is allowed to
express an opinion; the criticisms of the women are severest, perhaps
because they remember the time they stood in her unpleasant position.
This cruel examination being over, she is introduced to her husband’s
parents, and then salutes her own. Such are some of the customs among
the Fuhkienese. Other usages followed in marriages and betrothals have
been carefully described by Doolittle, with particular reference to the
same people, and by Archdeacon John H. Gray, alluding to other parts of
the Empire.[371]
The bridegroom, previous to the wedding, receives a new name or
“style,” and is formally capped by his father in presence of his
friends, as an introduction to manhood. He invites the guests, sending
two red cakes with each invitation, and to him each guest, a few days
before the marriage, returns a present or a sum of money worth about
ten or fifteen cents, nominally equal to the expenses he will be
considered as occasioning. Another invitation is sent the day after
to a feast, and the bride also calls on the ladies who attended her
wedding, from whom she receives a ring or some other article of small
value. The gentlemen also make the bridegroom a present of a pair of
lanterns to hang at his gateway. On the night of the wedding they
sometimes endeavor to get into the house when the pair is supposed to
be asleep, in order to carry off some article, which the bridegroom
must ransom at their price.
Among the poor the expenses of a wedding are much lessened by
purchasing a young girl, whom the parents bring up as a daughter
until she is marriageable, and in this way secure her services in the
household. A girl already affianced is for a like reason sometimes sent
to the boy’s parents, that they may support her. In small villages
the people call upon a newly married couple near the next full moon,
when they are received standing near the bedside. The men enter first
and pay their respects to the bride, while her husband calls the
attention of his visitors to her charms, praises her little feet, her
beautiful hands, and other features, and then accompanies them into
the hall, where they are regaled with refreshments. After the men have
retired the women enter and make their remarks upon the lady, whose
future character depends a good deal upon the manner in which she
conducts herself. If she shows good temper, her reputation is made.
Many a prudent woman on this occasion says not a word, but suffers
herself to be examined in silence in order that she may run no risk of
offending.[372] Far different is this introduction to married life from
the bridal tour and cordial greetings of friends which ladies receive
in western lands during the honeymoon!
~NUPTIAL PROCESSION AND FESTIVITIES.~
The bridal procession is a peculiar feature of Chinese social life.
It varies in its style, nature of the ornaments, and the whole get-up
in all parts of the land, but is always as showy as the means of the
parties will allow. It is composed of bearers of lanterns and official
tablets, musicians, relatives of the bride and groom and their personal
friends, framed stands with roofs carried on thills to hold the bride’s
effects, all centering around her sedan. In Peking such a procession
will sometimes be stretched out half a mile, and the sedan borne by a
dozen or more bearers. The coolies are dressed in red, and they and
their burdens are usually provided by special shopmen, who purvey on
such occasions. The tablets of literary rank held by members of the
family, wooden dragons’ heads, titular lanterns, and other official
insignia are borne in state, an evidence of its high standing. In some
places an old man, elegantly dressed, heads the procession, bearing a
large umbrella to hold over the bride when she enters and leaves her
sedan; behind him come bearers with lanterns, one of which carries
the inscription, “The phœnixes sing harmoniously.” To these succeed
the music and the honorary tablets, titular flags, state umbrella,
etc., and two stout men as executioners dressed in a fantastic manner,
wearing long feathers in their caps, and lictors, chain-bearers, and
other emblems of office. Parties of young lads, prettily dressed and
playing on drums, gongs, and flutes, or carrying lanterns and banners,
occasionally form a pleasing variety in the train, which is continued
by the trays and covered tables containing the bride’s trousseau, and
ended with the sedan containing herself.
The ceremonies attending her reception at her husband’s house are not
uniform. In some parts she is lifted out of the sedan, over a pan of
charcoal placed in the court, and carried into the bed-chamber; in
other places she enters and leaves her sedan on rugs spread for her
use, and walks into the chamber. After a brief interval she returns
into the hall, bearing a tray of betel-nut for the guests, and then
worships a pair of geese brought in the train with her husband, this
bird being an emblem of conjugal affection. On returning to her chamber
the bridegroom follows her and takes off the red veil, after which they
pledge each other in wine, the cups being joined by a thread. While
there a matron who has borne several children to one husband comes in
to pronounce a blessing upon them and make up the nuptial bed. The
assembled guests then sit down to the feast and ply the _sin lang_,
‘new man’ or bridegroom, pretty well with liquor; the Chinese on such
occasions do not, however, often overpass the rules of sobriety. The
_sin fujin_, ‘new lady’ or bride, and her mother-in-law also attend to
those of her own sex who are present in other apartments, but among
the poor a pleasanter sight is now and then seen in all the guests
sitting at one table.
In the morning the pair worship the ancestral tablets and salute all
the members of the family; among the poor this important ceremony
occurs very soon after the pair have exchanged their wine-cups. The
pledging of the bride and groom in a cup of wine, and their worship
of the ancestral tablets and of heaven and earth, are the important
ceremonies of a wedding after the procession has reached the house.
Marriages are celebrated at all hours, though twilight and evening
are preferred; the spring season, or the last month in the year, are
regarded as the most felicitous nuptial periods. From the way in which
the whole matter is conducted there is some room for deception by
sending another person in the sedan than the one betrothed, or the man
may mistake the name of the girl he wishes to marry. Mr. Smith mentions
one of his acquaintances, who, having been captivated with a girl he
saw in the street, sent a go-between with proposals to her parents,
which were accepted; but he was deeply mortified on receiving his
bride to find that he had mistaken the number of his charmer, and had
received the fifth daughter instead of the fourth.
The Chinese do not marry another woman with these observances while
the first one is living, but they may bring home concubines with
no other formality than a contract with her parents, though it is
considered somewhat discreditable for a man to take another bedfellow
if his wife have borne him sons, unless he can afford each of them a
separate establishment. It is not unfrequent for a man to secure a
maid-servant in the family with the consent of his wife by purchasing
her for a concubine, especially if his occupation frequently call him
away from home, in which case he takes her as his travelling companion
and leaves his wife in charge of the household. The fact that the
sons of a concubine are considered as legally belonging to the wife
induces parents to betroth their daughters early, and thus prevent
their entering a man’s family in this inferior capacity. The Chinese
are sensible of the evils of a divided household, and the laws place
its control in the hands of the wife. If she have no sons of her own,
she looks out for a likely boy among her clansmen to adopt, knowing
that otherwise her husband will probably bring a concubine into the
family. It is difficult even to guess at the extent of polygamy, for no
statistics have been or can be easily taken. Among the laboring classes
it is rare to find more than one woman to one man, but tradesmen,
official persons, landholders, and those in easy circumstances
frequently take one or more concubines; perhaps two-fifths of such
families have them. Show and fashion lead some to increase the number
of their women, though aware of the discord likely to arise, for they
fully believe their own proverb, that “nine women out of ten are
jealous.” Yet it is probably true that polygamy finds its greatest
support from the women themselves. The wife seeks to increase her own
position by getting more women into the house to relieve her own work
and humor her fancies. The Chinese illustrate the relation by comparing
the wife to the moon and the concubines to the stars, both of which in
their appropriate spheres wait upon and revolve around the sun.
~LAWS REGULATING MARRIAGES.~
If regard be had to the civilization of the Chinese and their
opportunities for moral training, the legal provisions of the code to
protect females in their acknowledged rights and punish crimes against
the peace and purity of the family relation reflect credit upon their
legislators. In these laws the obligation of children to fulfil the
contract made by their parents is enforced, even to the annulling of
an agreement made by a son himself in ignorance of the arrangements of
his parents. The position of the _tsí_, or wife taken by the prescribed
formalities, and that of the _tsieh_, or women purchased as concubines,
are accurately defined, and the degradation of the former or elevation
of the latter so as to interchange their places, or the taking of a
second _tsí_, are all illegal and void. The relation between the two
is more like that which existed between Sarah and Hagar in Abraham’s
household, or Zilpah and Bilhah and their mistresses in Jacob’s, than
that indicated by our terms first and second wife, of which idea the
Chinese words contain no trace. The degrees of unlawful marriages are
comprehensive, extending even to the prohibition of persons having the
same _sing_, or family name, and to two brothers marrying sisters.
The laws forbid the marriage of a brother’s widow, of a father’s or
grandfather’s wife, or a father’s sister, under the penalty of death;
and the like punishment is inflicted upon whoever seizes the wife or
daughter of a freeman and carries them away to marry them.
These regulations not only put honor upon marriage, but render it
more common among the Chinese than almost any other people, thereby
preventing a vast train of evils. The tendency of unrestrained desire
to throw down the barriers to the gratification of lust must not
be lost sight of; and as no laws on this subject can be effectual
unless the common sense of a people approve of them, the Chinese, by
separating the sexes in general society, have removed a principal
provocation to sin, and by compelling young men to fulfil the marriage
contracts of their parents have also provided a safeguard against
debauchery at the age when youth is most tempted to indulge, and
when indulgence would most strongly disincline them to marry at all.
They have, moreover, provided for the undoubted succession of the
inheritance by disallowing more than one _wife_, and yet have granted
men the liberty they would otherwise take, and which immemorial usage
in Asiatic countries has sanctioned. They have done as well as they
could in regulating a difficult matter, and better, on the whole,
perhaps, than in most other unchristianized countries. If any one
supposes, however, that because these laws exist sins against the
seventh commandment are uncommon in China, he will be as mistaken
as those who infer that because the Chinese are pagans nothing like
modesty, purity, or affection exists between the sexes.
When a girl “spills the tea”--that is, loses her betrothed by
death--public opinion honors her if she refuse a second engagement;
and instances are cited of young ladies committing suicide rather than
contract a second marriage. They sometimes leave their father’s house
and live with the parents of their affianced husband as if they had
been really widows. It is considered derogatory for widows to marry;
though it may be that the instances quoted in books with so much
praise only indicate how rare the practice is in reality. The widow
is occasionally sold for a concubine by her father-in-law, and the
grief and contumely of her degradation is enhanced by separation from
her children, whom she can no longer retain. Such cases are, however,
not common, for the impulses of maternal affection are too strong to
be thus trifled with, and widows usually look to their friends for
support, or to their own exertions if their children be still young;
they are assisted, too, by their relatives in this laudable industry
and care. It is a lasting stigma to a son to neglect the comfort and
support of his widowed mother. A widower is not restrained by any laws,
and weds one of his concubines or whomsoever he chooses; nor is he
expected to defer the nuptials for any period of mourning for his first
wife.
The seven legal reasons for divorce, viz., barrenness, lasciviousness,
jealousy, talkativeness, thievery, disobedience to her husband’s
parents, or leprosy, are almost nullified by the single provision that
a woman cannot be put away whose parents are not living to receive her
back again. Parties can separate on mutual disagreement, but the code
does not regulate the alimony; and a husband is liable to punishment
if he retain a wife convicted of adultery. If a wife merely elopes she
can be sold by her husband, but if she marry while absent she is to be
strangled; if the husband be absent three years a woman must state her
case to the magistrates before presuming to re-marry.
~PRIVILEGES AND POSITION OF WIVES AND WIDOWS.~
In regard to the general condition of females in China the remark of
De Guignes is applicable, that “though their lot is less happy than
that of their sisters in Europe, their ignorance of a better state
renders their present or prospective one more supportable; happiness
does not always consist in absolute enjoyment, but in the idea which
we have formed of it.”[373] She does not feel that any injustice is
done her by depriving her of the right of assent as to whom her partner
shall be; her wishes and her knowledge go no farther than her domestic
circle, and where she has been trained in her mother’s apartments to
the various duties and accomplishments of her sex, her removal to a
husband’s house brings to her no great change.
This, however, is not always the case, and the power accorded to the
husband over his wife and family is often used with great tyranny.
The young wife finds in her new home little of the sympathy and love
her sisters in Christian lands receive. Her mother-in-law is not
unfrequently the source of her greatest trials, and demands from her
both the submission of a child and the labor of a slave, which is not
seldom returned by disobedience and bitter revilings. If the husband
interfere she has less likelihood of escaping his exactions; though in
the lower walks of life his cruelty is restrained by fear of losing
her and her services, and in the upper diverted by indifference as to
what she does, in the pursuit of other objects. If the wife behave well
till she herself becomes a mother and a mother-in-law, then the tables
are turned; from being a menial she becomes almost a goddess. Luhchau,
a writer on female culture, mentions the following indirect mode of
reproving a mother-in-law: “Loh Yang travelled seven years to improve
himself, during which time his wife diligently served her mother-in-law
and supported her son at school. The poultry from a neighbor’s house
once wandered into her garden, and her mother-in-law stole and killed
them for eating. When she sat down to table and saw the fowls she
would not dine, but burst into tears, at which the old lady was much
surprised and asked the reason. ‘I am much distressed that I am so poor
and cannot afford to supply you with all I wish I could, and that I
should have caused you to eat flesh belonging to another.’ Her parent
was affected by this, and threw away the dish.”
~UNHAPPY BETROTHMENTS.~
The evils attending early betrothment induce many parents to defer
engaging their daughters until they are grown, and a husband of similar
tastes can be found; for even if the condition of the families in
the interval of betrothment and marriage unsuitably change, or the
lad grows up to be a dissipated, worthless, or cruel man, totally
unworthy of the girl, still the contract must be fulfilled, and the
worst party generally is most anxious for it. The unhappy bride in such
cases often escapes from her present sufferings and dismal prospects
by suicide. A case occurred in Canton in 1833 where a young wife,
visiting her parents shortly after marriage, so feelingly described her
sufferings at the hands of a cruel husband to her sisters and friends
that she and three of her auditors joined their hands together and
drowned themselves in a pond, she to escape present misery and they
to avoid its future possibility. Another young lady, having heard
of the worthless character of her intended, carried a bag of money
with her in the sedan, and when they retired after the ceremonies
were over thus addressed him: “Touch me not; I am resolved to abandon
the world and become a nun. I shall this night cut off my hair. I
have saved $200, which I give you; with the half you can purchase a
concubine, and with the rest enter on some trade. Be not lazy and
thriftless. Hereafter, remember me.” Saying this, she cut off her
hair, and her husband and his kindred, fearing suicide if they opposed
her, acquiesced, and she returned to her father’s house.[374] Such
cases are common enough to show the dark side of family life, and
young ladies implore their parents to rescue them in this or some
other way from the sad fate which awaits them. Sometimes girls become
skilled in female accomplishments to recommend themselves to their
husbands, and their disappointment is the greater when they find
him to be a brutal, depraved tyrant. A melancholy instance of this
occurred in Canton in 1840, which ended in the wife committing suicide.
Her brother had been a scholar of one of the American missionaries,
and took a commendable pride in showing specimens of his sister’s
exquisite embroidery, and not a few of her attainments in writing,
which indicated their reciprocal attachment. The contrary happens too,
sometimes, where the husband finds himself compelled to wed a woman
totally unable to appreciate or share his pursuits, but he has means
of alleviating or avoiding such misalliances which the weaker vessel
has not. On the whole, as we have said, one must admit that woman holds
a fairly high position in China. If she suffers from the brutality
of her husband, the tyranny of her mother-in-law, or the overwork of
household, field, or loom, she is as often herself blameworthy for
indolence, shiftlessness, gadding, and bad temper. The instances which
are given by Gray[375] in his account of marital atrocities prove the
length to which a man will wreak his rage on the helpless; but they
are the exception to the general testimony of the people themselves.
So far as general purity of society goes, one may well doubt whether
such abominable conduct as is legalized among Mormons in Utah is any
improvement on the hardships of woman among the Chinese.
Pursuing this brief account of the social life of the Chinese, the
right of parents in managing their children comes into notice. It is
great, though not unlimited, and in allowing them very extensive power,
legislators have supposed that natural affection of the parents, a
desire to continue the honorable succession of the family, together
with the influence of proper education, were as good securities against
paternal cruelty and neglect as any laws which could be made. Fathers
give their sons the _ju ming_, or ‘milk name,’ about a month after
birth. The mother, on the day appointed for this ceremony, worships
and thanks the goddess of Mercy, and the boy, dressed and having his
head shaved, is brought into the circle of assembled friends, where
the father confers the name and celebrates the occasion by a feast.
The milk name is kept until the lad enters school, at which time
the _shu ming_, or ‘school name,’ is conferred upon him, as already
mentioned. The _shu ming_ generally consists of two characters,
selected with reference to the boy’s condition, prospects, studies,
or some other event connected with him; sometimes the milk name is
continued, as the family have become accustomed to it. Such names as
_Ink-grinder_, _Promising-study_, _Opening-olive_, _Entering-virtue_,
_Rising-advancement_, etc., are given to young students at this time.
Though endearing or fanciful names are often conferred, it is quite
as common to vilify very young children by calling them _dog_, _hog_,
_puppy_, _flea_, etc., under the idea that such epithets will ward
off the evil eye. Girls have only their milk and marriage names; the
former may be _a flower_, _a sister_, _a gem_, or such like; the latter
are terms like _Emulating the Moon_, _Orchis Flower_, _the Jasmine_,
_Delicate Perfume_, etc. A mere number at Canton, as _A-yat_, _A-sam_,
_A-luk_ (No. 1, No. 3, No. 6), often designates the boys till they get
their book names.[376]
~NUMBER AND CHANGES OF PERSONAL NAMES.~
The personal names of the Chinese are written contrariwise to our
own, the _sing_, or surname, coming first, then the _ming_, or given
name, and then the complimentary title; as Liang Wăntai siensăng,
where _Liang_, or ‘Millet,’ is the family name, _Wăntai_, or ‘Terrace
of Letters,’ the given name, and _siensăng_, Mr. (_i.e._, Master), or
‘Teacher.’ A few of the surnames are double, as _Sz’ma Tsien_, where
Sz’ma is the family name and Tsien the official title. A curious
idea prevails among the people of Canton, that foreigners have no
surname, which, as Pliny thought of the inhabitants of Mt. Atlas,
they regard as one of the proofs of their barbarism; perhaps this
notion came by inference from the fact that the Manchus write only
their given name, as Kíshen, Kíying, Ílípu, etc. When writing Chinese
names in translations and elsewhere, some attention should be paid
to these particulars; the names of Chinese persons and places are
constantly appearing in print under forms as singular as would be
_Williamhenryharrison_, _Rich-Ard-Ox-Ford_, or _Phila Delphia-city_ in
English. The name being in a different language, and its true nature
unknown to most of those who write it, accounts for the misarrangement.
In Canton and its vicinity the names of people are abbreviated
in conversation to one character, and an _A_ prefixed to it;--as
_Tsinteh_, called _A-teh_ or _A-tsin_. In Amoy the _A_ is placed after,
as _Chin-a_; in the northern provinces no such usage is known. Some
families, perhaps in imitation of the imperial precedent, distinguish
their members from others in the clan by adopting a constant character
for the first one in the _ming_, or given name; thus a family of
brothers will be named Lin Tung-pei, Lin Tung-fung, Lin Tung-peh,
where the word _Tung_ distinguishes this sept of the clan Lin from all
others. There are no characters exclusively appropriated to proper
names or different sexes, as George, Agnes, etc., all being chosen
out of the language with reference to their meanings. Consequently,
a name is sometimes felt to be incongruous, as Naomi, when saluted
on her return to Bethlehem, felt its inappropriateness to her
altered condition, and suggested a change to Mara. Puns on names and
sobriquets are common, from the constant contrast of the sounds of
the characters with circumstances suggesting a comparison or a play
upon their meanings; sly jokes are also played when writing the names
of foreigners, by choosing such characters as will make a ridiculous
meaning when read according to their sense and not their sound.
When a man marries he adopts a third name, called _tsz’_, or ‘style,’
by which he is usually known through life; this is either entirely new
or combined from previous names. When a girl is married her family
name becomes her given name, and the given name is disused, her
husband’s name becoming her family name. Thus _Wa Salah_ married to
_Wei San-wei_ drops the _Salah_, and is called _Wei Wa shí_, _i.e._,
Mrs. Wei [born of the clan] Wa, though her husband or near relatives
sometimes retain it as a trivial address. A man is frequently known
by another compellation, called _pieh tsz’_, or ‘second style,’ which
the public do not presume to employ. When a young man is successful
in attaining a degree, or enters an office, he takes a title called
_kwan ming_, or ‘official name,’ by which he is known to government.
The members or heads of licensed mercantile companies each have an
official name, which is entered in their permit, from whence it is
called among foreigners their _chop name_. Each of the heads of the
co-hong formerly licensed to trade with foreigners at Canton had such
an official name. Besides these various names, old men of fifty,
shopkeepers, and others take a _hao_, or ‘designation;’ tradesmen use
it on their signboards as the name of their shop, and not unfrequently
receive it as their personal appellation. Of this nature are the
appellations of the tradesmen who deal with foreigners, as _Cutshing_,
_Chanlung_, _Linchong_, etc., which are none of them the names of
the shopmen, but the designation of the shop. It is the usual way in
Canton for foreigners to go into a shop and ask “Is Mr. Wanglik in?”
which would be almost like one in New York inquiring if Mr. Alhambra
or Mr. Atlantic-House was at home, though it does not sound quite so
ridiculous to a Chinese. The names taken by shopkeepers allude to
trade or its prospects, such as _Mutual Advantage_, _Obedient Profit_,
_Extensive Harmony_, _Rising Goodness_, _Great Completeness_, etc.;
the names of the partners as such are not employed to form the firm.
Besides this use of the _hao_, it is also employed as a brand upon
goods; the terms _Hoyuen_, _Kinghing_, _Yuenkí_, meaning ‘Harmonious
Springs,’ ‘Cheering Prospects,’ ‘Fountain’s Memorial,’ etc., are
applied to particular parcels of tea, silk, or other goods, just as
brands are placed on lots of wine, flour, or pork. This is called
_tsz’-hao_, or ‘mark-designation,’ but foreigners call both it and the
goods it denotes a _chop_.
When a man dies he receives another and last, though not necessarily
a new name in the hall of ancestors; upon emperors and empresses are
bestowed new ones, as _Benevolent_, _Pious_, _Discreet_, etc., by which
they are worshipped and referred to in history, as _that_ designation
which is most likely to be permanent.
~CEREMONIAL OBEISANCE AT COURT.~
In their common intercourse the Chinese are not more formal than
is considered to be well-bred in Europe; it is on extraordinary or
official occasions that they observe the precise etiquette for which
they are famous. The proper mode of behavior toward all classes is
perhaps more carefully inculcated upon youth than it is in the west,
and habit renders easy what custom demands. The ceremonial obeisance of
a court or a levee, or the salutations proper for a festival, are not
carried into the everyday intercourse of life; for as one chief end of
the formalities prescribed for such times is to teach due subordination
among persons of different rank, they are in a measure laid aside
with the robes which suggested them. True politeness, exhibited in
an unaffected regard for the feelings of others, cannot, we know,
be taught by rules; but a great degree of urbanity and kindness is
everywhere shown, whether owing to the naturally placable disposition
of the people or to the effects of their early instruction in the
forms of politeness. Whether in the crowded and narrow thoroughfares,
the village green, the market, the jostling ferry, or the thronged
procession--wherever the people are assembled promiscuously, good humor
and courtesy are observable; and when altercations do arise wounds or
serious injuries seldom ensue, although from the furious clamor one
would imagine that half the crowd were in danger of their lives.
Chinese ceremonial requires superiors to be honored according to
their station and age, and equals to depreciate themselves while
lauding those they address. The Emperor, considering himself as the
representative of divine power, exacts the same prostration which is
paid the gods; and the ceremonies which are performed in his presence
partake, therefore, of a religious character, and are not merely
particular forms of etiquette, which may be altered according to
circumstances. There are eight gradations of obeisance, commencing
with “the lowest form of respect, called _kung shao_, which is merely
joining the hands and raising them before the breast. The next is _tso
yih_, bowing low with the hands thus joined. The third is _ta tsien_,
bending the knee as if about to kneel; and _kwei_, an actual kneeling,
is the fourth. The fifth is _ko tao_ (_kotow_), kneeling and striking
the head on the ground, which when thrice repeated makes the sixth,
called _san kao_, or ‘thrice knocking.’ The seventh is the _luh kao_,
or kneeling and knocking the head thrice upon the ground, then standing
upright and again kneeling and knocking the head three times more. The
climax is closed by the _san kwei kiu kao_, or thrice kneeling and nine
times knocking the head. Some of the gods of China are entitled to the
_san kao_, others to the _luh kao_, while the Emperor and Heaven are
worshipped by the last. The family now on the throne consider this
last form as expressing in the strongest manner the submission and
homage of one state to another.”[377] The extreme submission which the
Emperor demands is partaken by and transferred to his officers of every
grade in a greater or less degree; the observance of these forms is
deemed, therefore, of great importance, and a refusal to render them is
considered to be nearly equivalent to a rejection of their authority.
Minute regulations for the times and modes of official intercourse are
made and promulgated by the Board of Rites, and to learn and practise
them is one indispensable part of official duty. In court the master
of ceremonies stands in a conspicuous place, and with a loud voice
commands the courtiers to rise and kneel, stand or march, just as an
orderly sergeant directs the drill of recruits. The same attention to
the ritual is observed in their mutual intercourse, for however much
an inferior may desire to dispense with the ceremony, his superior
will not fail to exact it. In the salutations of entrée and exit among
officers these forms are particularly conspicuous, but when well
acquainted with each other, and in moments of conviviality, they are
in a great measure laid aside; but the juxtaposition of art and nature
among them, at one moment laughing and joking, and the next bowing and
kneeling to each other as if they had never met, sometimes produces
amusing scenes to a foreigner. The entire ignorance and disregard of
these forms by foreigners unacquainted with the code leaves a worse
impression upon the natives at times, who ascribe such rudeness to
hauteur and contempt.
~ETIQUETTE OF FORMAL VISITING.~
Without particularizing the tedious forms of official etiquette, it
will be sufficient to describe what is generally required in good
society. Military men pay visits on horseback; civilians and others
go in sedans or carts; to walk is not common. Visiting cards are
made of vermilioned paper cut into slips about eight inches long and
three wide, and are single or folded four, six, eight, or more times,
according to the position of the visitor. If he is in recent mourning,
the paper is white and the name written in blue ink, but after a stated
time this is indicated by an additional character. The simple name is
stamped on the upper right corner, or if written on the lower corner,
with an addition thus, “Your humble servant (_lit._, ‘stupid younger
brother’) Pí Chí-wăn bows his head in salutation.” On approaching the
house his attendant hands a card to the doorkeeper, and if he cannot
be received, instead of saying “not at home,” the host sends out to
“stay the gentleman’s approach,” and the card is left. If contrariwise
the sedan is carried through the doorway into the court, where he
comes forth to receive his guest; as the latter steps out each one
advances just so far, bowing just so many times, and going through
the ceremonies which they mutually understand and expect, until both
have taken their seats at the head of the hall, the guest sitting
on the left of the host, and his companions, if he have any, in the
chairs on each side. The inquiries made after the mutual welfare of
friends and each other are couched in a form of studied laudation
and depreciation, which when literally translated seem somewhat
affected, but to them convey no more than similar civilities do among
ourselves--in truth, perhaps not so much of sincere good-will. For
instance, to the remark, “It is a long time since we have met, sir,”
the host replies (literally), “How presume to receive the trouble of
your honorable footsteps; is the person in the chariot well?”--which is
simply equivalent to, “I am much obliged for your visit, and hope you
enjoy good health.”
Tea and pipes are always presented, together with betel-nut or
sweetmeats on some occasions, but it is not, as among the Turks,
considered disrespectful to refuse them, though it would be looked
upon as singular. If the guest inquire after the health of relatives
he should commence with the oldest living, and then ask how many sons
the host has; but it is not considered good breeding for a formal
acquaintance to make any remarks respecting the mistress of the house.
If the sons of the host are at home they are generally sent for, and
make their obeisance to their father’s friend by coming up before him
and performing the _kotow_ as rapidly as possible, each one making
haste, as if he did not wish to delay him. The guest raises them with a
slight bow, and the lads stand facing him at a respectful distance. He
will then remark, perhaps, if one of them happen to be at his studies,
that “the boy will perpetuate the literary reputation of his family”
(_lit._, ‘he will fully carry on the fragrance of the books’); to
which his father rejoins, “The reputation of our family is not great
(_lit._, ‘hills and fields’ happiness is thin’); high expectations
are not to be entertained of him; if he can only gain a livelihood it
will be enough.” After a few such compliments the boys say _shao pei_,
‘slightly waiting on you,’ _i.e._, pray excuse us, and retire. Girls
are seldom brought in, and young ladies never.
~FORMALITIES OF ADDRESS AND GREETING.~
The periphrases employed to denote persons and thus avoid speaking
their names in a measure indicate the estimation in which they are
held. For instance, “Does the honorable great man enjoy happiness?”
means “Is your father well?” “Distinguished and aged one what honorable
age?” is the mode of asking how old he is; for among the Chinese, as
it seems to have been among the Egyptians, it is polite to ask the
names and ages of all ranks and sexes. “The old man of the house,”
“excellent honorable one,” and “venerable great prince,” are terms
used by a visitor to designate the father of his host. A child terms
his father “family’s majesty,” “old man of the family,” “prince of the
family,” or “venerable father.” When dead a father is called “former
prince,” and a mother “venerable great one in repose;” and there are
particular characters to distinguish deceased parents from living. The
request, “Make my respects to your mother”--for no Chinese gentleman
ever asks to _see_ the ladies--is literally, “Excellent-longevity hall
place in my behalf wish repose,” the first two words denoting she who
remains there. Care should be taken not to use the same expressions
when speaking of the relatives of the guest and one’s own; thus, in
asking, “How many worthy young gentlemen [sons] have you?” the host
replies, “I am unfortunate in having had but one boy,” literally, “My
fate is niggardly; I have only one little bug.” This runs through their
whole Chesterfieldian code. A man calls his wife _tsien nui_, _i.e._,
‘the mean one of the inner apartments,’ or ‘the foolish one of the
family;’ while another speaking of her calls her “the honorable lady,”
“worthy lady,” “your favored one,” etc.
Something of this is found in all oriental languages; to become
familiar with the right application of these terms in Chinese, as
elsewhere in the east, is no easy lesson for a foreigner. In their
salutations of ceremony they do not, however, quite equal the Arabs,
with their kissing, bowing, touching foreheads, stroking beards, and
repeated motions of obeisance. The Chinese seldom embrace or touch each
other, except on unusual occasions of joy or among family friends;
in fact, they have hardly a common word for a kiss. When the visitor
rises to depart he remarks, “Another day I will come to receive your
instructions;” to which his friend replies, “You do me too much honor;
I rather ought to wait on you to-morrow.” The common form of salutation
among equals is for each to clasp his own hands before his breast
and make a slight bow, saying, _Tsing! Tsing!_ _i.e._, ‘Hail! Hail!’
This is repeated by both at the same time, on meeting as well as
separating.[378] The formalities of leave-taking correspond to those of
receiving, but if the parties are equal, or nearly so, the host sees
his friend quite to the door and into his sedan.
Officers avoid meeting each other, especially in public, except when
etiquette requires them. An officer of low rank is obliged to stop his
chair or horse, and on his feet to salute his superior, who receives
and returns the civility without moving. Those of equal grades leave
their places and go through a mock struggle of deference to get each
first to return to it. The common people never presume to salute an
officer in the streets, nor even to look at him very carefully. In
his presence, they speak to him on their knees, but an old man, or
one of consideration, is usually requested to rise when speaking, and
even criminals with gray hairs are treated with respect. Officers do
not allow their inferiors to sit in their presence, and have always
been unwilling to concede this to foreigners; those of the lowest rank
consider themselves far above the best of such visitors, but this
affectation of rank is already passing away. The converse, of not
paying them proper respect, is more common among a certain class of
foreigners.
Children are early taught the forms of politeness toward all ranks. The
duties owed by younger to elder brothers are peculiar, the firstborn
having a sort of birthright in the ancestral worship, in the division
of property, and in the direction of the family after the father’s
decease. The degree of formality in the domestic circle inculcated in
the ancient _Book of Rites_ is never observed to its full extent, and
would perhaps chill the affection which should exist among its members,
did not habit render it easy and proper; and the extent to which it is
actually carried depends a good deal upon the education of the family.
In forwarding presents it is customary to send a list with the note,
and if the person deems it proper to decline some of them, he marks
on the list those he takes and returns the rest; a douceur is always
expected by the bearer, and needy fellows sometimes pretend to have
been sent with some insignificant present from a grandee in hopes of
receiving more than its equivalent as a cumshaw from the person thus
honored. De Guignes mentioned one donor who waited until the list came
back, and then sent out and purchased the articles which had been
marked and sent them to his friend.
~CUSTOMS AT DINNER.~
Travellers have so often described the Chinese formal dinners, that
they have almost become one of their national traits in the view of
foreigners; so many of these banquets, however, were given by or in the
name of the sovereign, that they are hardly a fair criterion of usual
private feasts. The Chinese are both a social and a sensual people,
and the pleasures of the table form a principal item in the list of
their enjoyments; nor are the higher delights of mental recreation
altogether wanting, though this part of the entertainment is according
to their taste and not ours. Private meals and public feasts among
the higher classes are both dull and long to us, because ladies do
not participate; but perhaps we judge more what our own tables would
be without their cheerful presence, while in China each sex is of the
opinion that the meal is more enjoyable without interference from the
other.
An invitation to dinner is written on a slip of red paper like a
visiting-card, and sent some days before. It reads, “On the -- day a
trifling entertainment will await the light of your countenance. Tsau
San-wei’s compliments.” Another card is sent on the day itself, stating
the hour of dinner, or a servant comes to call the guests. The host,
dressed in his cap and robes, awaits their arrival, and after they are
all assembled, requests them to follow his example and lay aside their
dresses of ceremony. The usual way of arranging guests is by twos on
each side of small uncovered tables, placed in lines; an arrangement as
convenient for serving the numerous courses which compose the feast,
and removing the dishes, as was the Roman fashion of reclining around a
hollow table; it also allows a fair view of the musical or theatrical
performances. On some occasions, in the sunny south, however, a single
long or round table is laid out in a tasteful manner, having pyramids
of cakes alternating with piles of fruits and dishes of preserves, all
covered more or less with flowers, while the table itself is partly
hidden from view by nosegays and leaves. If the party be large, ten
minutes or more are consumed by the host and guests going through a
tedious repetition of requests and refusals to take the highest seats,
for not a man will sit down until he sees the host occupying his chair.
On commencing, the host, standing up, salutes his guests, in a cup,
apologizing for the frugal board before them, his only desire being to
show his respects to them. At a certain period in the entertainment,
they reply by simultaneously rising and drinking his health. The
Western custom of giving a sentiment is not known; and politeness
requires a person when drinking healths to turn the bottom of the tiny
wine-cup upward to show that it is drained. Glass dishes are gradually
becoming cheap and common among the middle class, but the table
furniture still mainly consists of porcelain cups, bowls, and saucers
of various sizes and quality, porcelain spoons shaped like a child’s
pap-boat, and two smooth sticks made of bamboo, ivory, or wood, of
the size of quills, well known as the _chop-sticks_, from the native
name _kwai tsz’_, _i.e._, ‘nimble lads.’ Grasping these implements
on each side of the forefinger, the eater pinches up from the dishes
meat, fish, or vegetables, already cut into mouthfuls, and conveys
one to his mouth. The bowl of rice or millet is brought to the lips,
and the contents shovelled into the mouth in an expeditious manner,
quite suitable to the name of the tools employed. Less convenient than
forks, chopsticks are a great improvement on fingers, as every one will
acknowledge who has seen the Hindus throw the balls of curried rice
into their mouths.
The succession of dishes is not uniform; soups, meats, stews, fruits,
and preserves are introduced somewhat at the discretion of the
major-domo, but the end is announced by a bowl of plain rice and a
cup of tea. The fruit is often brought in after a recess, during
which the guests rise and refresh themselves by walking and chatting,
for three or four hours are not unfrequently required even to taste
all the dishes. It is not deemed impolite for a guest to express his
satisfaction with the good fare before him, and exhibit evidences of
having stuffed himself to repletion; nor is it a breach of manners to
retire before the dinner is ended. The guests relieve its tedium by
playing the game of _chai mei_, or morra (the _micare digitis_ of the
old Romans), which consists in showing the fingers to each other across
the table, and mentioning a number at the same moment; as, if one opens
out two fingers and mentions the number four, the other instantly shows
six fingers, and repeats that number. If he mistake in giving the
complement of ten, he pays a forfeit by drinking a cup. This convivial
game is common among all ranks, and the boisterous merriment of workmen
or friends at their meals is frequently heard as one passes through the
streets in the afternoon.[379] The Chinese generally have but two meals
a day, breakfast at nine and dinner at four, or thereabouts.
~TEMPERANCE OF THE CHINESE.~
The Chinese are comparatively a temperate people. This is owing
principally to the universal use of tea, but also to taking their
arrack very warm and at their meals, rather than to any notions of
sobriety or dislike of spirits. A little of it flushes their faces,
mounts into their heads, and induces them when flustered to remain in
the house to conceal the suffusion, although they may not be really
drunk. This liquor is known as toddy, arrack, saki, tsiu, and other
names in Eastern Asia, and is distilled from the yeasty liquor in
which boiled rice has fermented under pressure many days. Only one
distillation is made for common liquor, but when more strength is
wanted, it is distilled two or three times, and it is this strong
spirit alone which is rightly called _samshu_, a word meaning ‘thrice
fired.’ Chinese moralists have always inveighed against the use of
spirits, and the name of Í-tih, the reputed inventor of the deleterious
drink, more than two thousand years before Christ, has been handed down
with opprobrium, as he was himself banished by the great Yu for his
discovery.
The _Shu King_ contains a discourse by the Duke of Chau on the abuse
of spirits. His speech to his brother Fung, B.C. 1120, is the oldest
temperance address on record, even earlier than the words of Solomon
in the Proverbs. “When your reverend father, King Wăn, founded our
kingdom in the western region, he delivered announcements and cautions
to the princes of the various states, their officers, assistants, and
managers of affairs, morning and evening, saying, ‘For sacrifices
spirits should be employed. When Heaven was sending down its [favoring]
commands and laying the foundations of our people’s sway, spirits were
used only in the great sacrifices. [But] when Heaven has sent down its
terrors, and our people have thereby been greatly disorganized, and
lost their [sense of] virtue, this too can be ascribed to nothing else
than their unlimited use of spirits; yea, further, the ruin of the
feudal states, small and great, may be traced to this one sin, the free
use of spirits.’ King Wăn admonished and instructed the young and those
in office managing public affairs, that they should not habitually
drink spirits. In all the states he enjoined that their use be confined
to times of sacrifices; and even then with such limitations that virtue
should prevent drunkenness.”[380]
The general and local festivals of the Chinese are numerous, among
which the first three days of the year, one or two about the middle of
April to worship at the tombs, the two solstices, and the festival of
dragon-boats, are common days of relaxation and merry-making, only on
the first, however, are the shops shut and business suspended. Some
persons have expressed their surprise that the unceasing round of toil
which the Chinese laborer pursues has not rendered him more degraded.
It is usually said that a weekly rest is necessary for the continuance
of the powers of body and mind in man in their full activity, and that
decrepitude and insanity would oftener result were it not for this
relaxation. The arguments in favor of this observation seem to be
deduced from undoubted facts in countries where the obligations of the
Sabbath are acknowledged, though where the vast majority cease from
business and labor, it is not easy for a few to work all the time even
if they wish, owing to the various ways in which their occupations are
involved with those of others; yet, in China, people who apparently
tax themselves uninterruptedly to the utmost stretch of body and mind,
live in health to old age. A few facts of this sort incline one to
suppose that the Sabbath was designed by its Lord as a day of rest
for man from a constant routine of relaxation and mental and physical
labor, in order that he might have leisure for attending to the
paramount duties of religion, and not alone as a day of relaxation and
rest, without which they could not live out all their days. Nothing
like a seventh day of rest, or religious respect to that interval
of time, is known among the Chinese, but they do not, as a people,
exercise their minds to the intensity, or upon the high subjects common
among Western nations, and this perhaps is one reason why their yearly
toil produces no disastrous effects. The countless blessings which flow
from an observance of the fourth commandment can be better appreciated
by witnessing the wearied condition of the society where it is not
acknowledged, and whoever sees such a society can hardly fail to wish
for its introduction.
Converts to Christianity in China, who are instructed in its strict
observance, soon learn to prize it as a high privilege; and its general
neglect among the native Roman Catholics has removed the only apparent
difference between them and the pagans. The former prime minister of
China once remarked that among the few really valuable things which
foreigners had brought to China, the rest of the Sabbath day was one of
the most desirable; he often longed for a quiet day.[381]
~NEW YEAR’S CUSTOMS AND CEREMONIES.~
The return of the year is an occasion of unbounded festivity and
hilarity, as if the whole population threw off the old year with a
shout, and clothed themselves in the new with their change of garments.
The evidences of the approach of this chief festival appear some weeks
previous. The principal streets are lined with tables, upon which
articles of dress, furniture, and fancy are disposed for sale in the
most attractive manner. Necessity compels many to dispose of certain
of their treasures or superfluous things at this season, and sometimes
exceedingly curious bits of bric-a-brac, long laid up in families,
can be procured at a cheap rate. It is customary for superiors to
give their dependents and employees a present, and for shopmen to
send an acknowledgment of favors to their customers; one of the most
common gifts among the lower classes is a pair of new shoes. Among the
tables spread in the streets are many provided with pencils and red
paper of various sizes, on which persons write sentences appropriate
to the season in various styles, to be pasted upon the doorposts and
lintels of dwellings and shops,[382] or suspended from their walls.
The shops also put on a most brilliant appearance, arrayed in these
papers interspersed among the _kin hwa_, or ‘golden flowers,’ which are
sprigs of artificial leaves and flowers made in the southern cities of
brass tinsel and fastened upon wires; the latter are designed for an
annual offering in temples, or to place before the household tablet.
Small strips of red and gilt paper, some bearing the word _fuh_, or
‘happiness,’ large and small vermilion candles, gaily painted, and
other things used in idolatry, are likewise sold in great quantities,
and with the increased throng impart an unusually lively appearance to
the streets. Another evident sign of the approaching change is the use
of water upon the doors, shutters, and other woodwork of houses and
shops, washing chairs, utensils, clothes, etc., as if cleanliness had
not a little to do with joy, and a well-washed person and tenement were
indispensable to the proper celebration of the festival. Throughout the
southern rivers all small craft, tankia-boats, and lighters are beached
and turned inside out for a scrubbing.
~SETTLING ACCOUNTS AND DECORATING HOUSES.~
A still more praiseworthy custom attending this season is that of
settling accounts and paying debts; shopkeepers are kept busy waiting
upon their customers, and creditors urge their debtors to arrange these
important matters. No debt is allowed to overpass new year without
a settlement or satisfactory arrangement, if it can be avoided; and
those whose liabilities altogether exceed their means are generally
at this season obliged to wind up their concerns and give all their
available property into the hands of their creditors. The consequences
of this general pay-day are a high rate of money, great resort to the
pawnbrokers, and a general fall in the price of most kinds of produce
and commodities. Many good results flow from the practice, and the
conscious sense of the difficulty and expense of resorting to legal
proceedings to recover debts induces all to observe and maintain it, so
that the dishonest, the unsuccessful, and the wild speculator may be
sifted out from amongst the honest traders.
De Guignes mentions one expedient to oblige a man to pay his debts
at this season, which is to carry off the door of his shop or house,
for then his premises and person will be exposed to the entrance and
anger of all hungry and malicious demons prowling around the streets,
and happiness no more revisit his abode; to avoid this he is fain to
arrange his accounts. It is a common practice among devout persons to
settle with the gods, and during a few days before the new year, the
temples are unusually thronged by devotees, both male and female, rich
and poor. Some persons fast and engage the priests to intercede for
them that their sins may be pardoned, while they prostrate themselves
before the images amidst the din of gongs, drums, and bells, and thus
clear off the old score. On new year’s eve the streets are full of
people hurrying to and fro to conclude the many matters which press
upon them. At Canton, some are busy pasting the five slips upon
their lintels, signifying their desire that the five blessings which
constitute the sum of all human felicity (namely, longevity, riches,
health, love of virtue, and a natural death) may be their favored
portion. Such sentences as “May the five blessings visit this door,”
“May heaven send down happiness,” “May rich customers ever enter this
door,” are placed above them; and the doorposts are adorned with
others on plain or gold sprinkled red paper, making the entrance quite
picturesque. In the hall are suspended scrolls more or less costly,
containing antithetical sentences carefully chosen. A literary man
would have, for instance, a distich like the following:
May I be so learned as to secrete in my mind three myriads of volumes:
May I know the affairs of the world for six thousand years.
A shopkeeper adorns his door with those relating to trade:
May profits be like the morning sun rising on the clouds.
May wealth increase like the morning tide which brings the rain.
Manage your occupation according to truth and loyalty.
Hold on to benevolence and rectitude in all your trading.
The influence of these mottoes, and countless others like them which
are constantly seen in the streets, shops, and dwellings throughout
the land, is inestimable. Generally it is for good, and as a large
proportion are in the form of petition or wish, they show the moral
feeling of the people.
Boat-people in Kwangtung and Fuhkien provinces are peculiarly liberal
of their paper prayers, pasting them on every board and oar in the
boat, and suspending them from the stern in scores, making the vessel
flutter with gaiety. Farmers stick theirs upon barns, trees, wattles,
baskets, and implements, as if nothing was too insignificant to receive
a blessing. The house is arranged in the most orderly and cleanly
manner, and purified with religious ceremonies and lustrations,
firing of crackers, etc., and as the necessary preparations occupy
a considerable portion of the night, the streets are not quiet till
dawn. In addition to the bustle arising from business and religious
observances, which marks this passage of time, the constant explosion
of fire-crackers, and the clamor of gongs, make it still more noisy.
Strings of these crackling fireworks are burned at the doorposts,
before the outgoing and incoming of the year, designed to expel and
deter evil spirits from the house. The consumption is so great as to
cover the streets with the fragments, and farmers come the week after
into Canton city and sweep up hundreds of bushels for manure.
The first day of the year is also regarded as the birthday of the
entire population, for the practice among the Hebrews of dating the
age from the beginning of the year, prevails also in China; so that
a child born only a week before new year, is considered as entering
its second year on the first day of the first month. This does not,
however, entirely supersede the observance of the real anniversary,
and parents frequently make a solemnity of their son’s birthday. A
missionary thus describes the celebration of a son’s sixth birthday
at Ningpo. “The little fellow was dressed in his best clothes, and
his father had brought gilt paper, printed prayers, and a large
number of bowls of meats, rice, vegetables, spirits, nuts, etc., as
an offering to be spread out before the idols. The ceremonies were
performed in the apartment of the _Tao Mu_, or ‘Bushel Mother,’ who
has special charge of infants before and after birth. The old abbot
was dressed in a scarlet robe, with a gilt image of a serpent fastened
in his hair; one of the monks wore a purple, another a gray robe. A
multitude of prayers, seemingly a round of repetitions, were read by
the abbot, occasionally chanting a little, when the attendants joined
in the chorus, and a deafening clamor of bells, cymbals, and wooden
blocks, added force to their cry; genuflexions and prostrations were
repeatedly made. One part of the ceremony was to pass a live cock
through a barrel, which the assistants performed many times, shouting
some strange words at each repetition; this act symbolized the dangers
through which the child was to pass in his future life, and the priests
had prayed that he might as safely come out of them all, as the cock
had passed through the barrel. In conclusion, some of the prayers were
burned and a libation poured out, and a grand symphony of bell, gong,
drum, and block, closed the scene.”[383]
A great diversity of local usages are observed at this period in
different parts of the country. In Amoy, the custom of “surrounding
the furnace” is generally practised. The members of the family sit
down to a substantial supper on new year’s eve, with a pan of charcoal
under the table, as a supposed preservative against fires. After the
supper is ended, the wooden lamp-stands are brought out and spread upon
the pavement with a heap of gold and silver paper, and set on fire
after all demons have been warned off by a volley of fire-crackers.
The embers are then divided into twelve heaps, and their manner of
going out carefully watched as a prognostic of the kind of weather to
be expected the ensuing year. Many persons wash their bodies in warm
water, made aromatic by the infusion of leaves, as a security against
disease; this ceremony, and ornamenting the ancestral shrine, and
garnishing the whole house with inscriptions, pictures, flowers, and
fruit, in the gayest manner the means of the family will allow, occupy
most of the night.
~CALLS AND COMPLIMENTS AT NEW YEAR’S.~
The stillness of the streets and the gay inscriptions on the closed
shops on new year’s morning present a wonderful contrast to the usual
bustle and crowd, resembling the Christian Sabbath. The red papers
of the doors are here and there interspersed with the blue ones,
announcing that during the past year death has come among the inmates
of the house; a silent but expressive intimation to passers that some
who saw the last new year have passed away. In certain places, white,
yellow, and carnation colored papers are employed, as well as blue, to
distinguish the degree of the deceased kindred. Etiquette requires that
those who mourn remain at home at this period. By noontide the streets
begin to be filled with well-dressed persons, hastening in sedans or
afoot to make their calls; those who cannot afford to buy a new suit
hire one for this purpose, so that a man hardly knows his own domestics
in their finery and robes. The meeting of friends in the streets, both
bound on the same errand, is attended with particular demonstrations
of respect, each politely struggling who shall be most affectedly
humble. On this day parents receive the prostrations of their children,
teachers expect the salutations of their pupils, magistrates look for
the calls of their inferiors, and ancestors of every generation, and
gods of various powers are presented with the offerings of devotees
in the family hall or public temple. Much of the visiting is done
by cards, on which is stamped an emblematic device representing the
three happy wishes--of children, rank, and longevity; a common card
suffices for distant acquaintances and customers. It might be a subject
of speculation whether the custom of visiting and renewing one’s
acquaintances on new year’s day, so generally practised among the Dutch
and in America, was not originally imitated from the Chinese; but as
in many other things, so in this, the westerns have improved upon the
easterns, in calling upon the ladies. Persons, as they meet, salute
each other with _Kung-hí! Kung-hí!_ ‘I respectfully wish you joy!’--or
_Sin-hí! Sin-hí!_ ‘May the new joy be yours,’ either of which, from its
use at this season, is quite like the _Happy New Year!_ of Englishmen.
Toward evening, the merry sounds proceeding from the closed doors
announce that the sacrifice provided for presentation before the
shrines of departed parents is cheering the worshippers; while the
great numbers who resort to gambling-shops show full well that the
routine of ceremony soon becomes tiresome, and a more exciting
stimulus is needed. The extent to which play is now carried is almost
indescribable. Jugglers, mountebanks, and actors also endeavor to
collect a few coppers by amusing the crowds. Generally speaking,
however, the three days devoted to this festival pass by without
turmoil, and business and work then gradually resume their usual course
for another twelvemonth.
~DRAGON-BOAT FESTIVAL AND FEAST OF LANTERNS.~
The festival of the dragon-boats, on the fifth day of the fifth month,
presents a very different scene wherever there is a serviceable stream
for its celebration. At Canton, long, narrow boats, holding sixty or
more rowers, race up and down the river in pairs with huge clamor,
as if searching for some one who had been drowned. This festival was
instituted in memory of the statesman Küh Yuen, about 450 B.C., who
drowned himself in the river Mih-lo, an affluent of Tungting Lake,
after having been falsely accused by one of the petty princes of the
state. The people, who loved the unfortunate courtier for his fidelity
and virtues, sent out boats in search of the body, but to no purpose.
They then made a peculiar sort of rice-cake called _tsung_, and setting
out across the river in boats with flags and gongs, each strove to be
first on the spot of the tragedy and sacrifice to the spirit of Küh
Yuen. This mode of commemorating the event has been since continued as
an annual holiday. The bow of the boat is ornamented or carved into the
head of a dragon, and men beating gongs and drums, and waving flags,
inspirit the rowers to renewed exertions. The exhilarating exercise
of racing leads the people to prolong the festival two or three days,
and generally with commendable good humor, but their eagerness to beat
often breaks the boats, or leads them into so much danger that the
magistrates sometimes forbid the races in order to save the people from
drowning.[384]
The first full moon of the year is the feast of lanterns, a childish
and dull festival compared with the two preceding. Its origin is
not certainly known, but it was observed as early as A.D. 700. Its
celebration consists in suspending lanterns of different forms and
materials before each door, and illuminating those in the hall, but
their united brilliancy is dimness itself compared with the light of
the moon. At Peking, an exhibition of transparencies and pictures in
the Board of War on this evening attracts great crowds of both sexes
if the weather be good. Magaillans describes a firework he saw, which
was an arbor covered with a vine, the woodwork of which seemed to burn,
while the trunk, leaves, and clusters of the plant gradually consumed,
yet so that the redness of the grapes, the greenness of the leaves,
and natural brown of the stem were all maintained until the whole
was burned. The feast of lanterns coming so soon after new year, and
being somewhat expensive, is not so enthusiastically observed in the
southern cities. At the capital this leisure time, when public offices
are closed, is availed of by the jewellers, bric-a-brac dealers, and
others to hold a fair in the courts of a temple in the Wai Ching, where
they exhibit as beautiful a collection of carvings in stone and gems,
bronzes, toys, etc., as is to be seen anywhere in Asia. The respect
with which the crowds of women and children are treated on these
occasions reflects much credit on the people.
In the manufacture of lanterns the Chinese surely excel all other
people; the variety of their forms, their elegant carving, gilding,
and coloring, and the laborious ingenuity and taste displayed in
their construction, render them among the prettiest ornaments of
their dwellings. They are made of paper, silk, cloth, glass, horn,
basket-work, and bamboo, exhibiting an infinite variety of shapes
and decorations, varying in size from a small hand-light, costing
two or three cents, up to a magnificent chandelier, or a complicated
lantern fifteen feet in diameter, containing several lamps within
it, and worth three or four hundred dollars. The uses to which they
are applied are not less various than the pains and skill bestowed
upon their construction are remarkable. One curious kind is called the
_tsao-ma-tăng_, or ‘horse-racing lantern,’ which consists of one, two,
or more wire frames, one within the other, and arranged on the same
principle as the smoke-jack, by which the current of air caused by the
flame sets them revolving. The wire framework is covered with paper
figures of men and animals placed in the midst of appropriate scenery,
and represented in various attitudes; or, as Magaillans describes
them, “You shall see horses run, draw chariots and till the earth;
vessels sailing, kings and princes go in and out with large trains, and
great numbers of people, both afoot and a horseback, armies marching,
comedies, dances, and a thousand other divertissements and motions
represented.”
One of the prettiest shows of lanterns is seen in a festival observed
in the spring or autumn by fisherman on the southern coasts to
propitiate the gods of the waters. An indispensable part of the
procession is a dragon fifty feet or more long, made of light bamboo
frames of the size and shape of a barrel, connected and covered with
strips of colored cotton or silk; the extremities represent the gaping
head and frisking tail. This monster symbolizes the ruler of the watery
deep, and is carried through the streets by men holding the head and
each joint upon poles, to which are suspended lanterns; as they follow
each other their steps give the body a wriggling, waving motion. Huge
models of fish, similarly lighted, precede the dragon, while music and
fireworks--the never-failing warning to lurking demons to keep out of
the way--accompany the procession, which presents a very brilliant
sight as it winds in its course through the dark streets. These sports
and processions give idolatry its hold upon a people; and although none
of them are required or patronized by government in China as in other
heathen countries, most of the scenes and games which please the people
are recommended by connecting with them the observances or hopes of
religion and the merrymaking of the festive board.
In the middle of the sixth moon lanterns are hung from the top of a
pole placed on the highest part of the house. A single small lantern is
deemed sufficient, but if the night be calm, a greater display is made
by some householders, and especially in boats, by exhibiting colored
glass lamps arranged in various ways. The illumination of a city like
Canton when seen from a high spot is made still more brilliant by the
moving boats on the river. On one of these festivals at Canton, an
almost total eclipse of the moon called out the entire population,
each one carrying something with which to make a noise, kettles,
pans, sticks, drums, gongs, guns, crackers, and what not to frighten
away the dragon of the sky from his hideous feast. The advancing
shadow gradually caused the myriads of lanterns to show more and more
distinctly and started a still increasing clamor, till the darkness and
the noise were both at their climax; silence gradually resumed its sway
as the moon recovered her fulness.
~ARRANGEMENT AND STYLE OF PROCESSIONS.~
The Chinese are fond of processions, and if marriages and funerals
be included, have them more frequently than any other people. Livery
establishments are opened in every city and town where processions are
arranged and supplied with everything necessary for bridal and funeral
occasions as well as religious festivals. Not only are sedans, bands
of music, biers, framed and gilded stands for carrying idols, shrines,
and sacrificial feasts, red boxes for holding the bride’s trousseau,
etc., supplied, but also banners, tables, stands, curiosities, and
uniforms in great variety. The men and boys required to carry them
and perform the various parts of the ceremony are hired, a uniform
hiding their ragged garments and dirty limbs. Guilds often go to a
heavy expense in getting up a procession in honor of their patron
saint, whose image is carried through the streets attended by the
members of the corporation dressed in holiday robes and boots. The
variety and participators of these shows are exceedingly curious and
characteristic of the people’s taste. Here are seen splendid silken
banners worked with rich embroidery, alternating with young girls
bedizened with paint and flowers, and perched on high seats under an
artificial tree or apparently almost in the air, resting upon frames on
men’s shoulders; bands of music; sacrificial meats and fruits adorned
with flowers; shrines, images, and curious rarities laid out upon
red pavilions; boys gaily dressed in official robes and riding upon
ponies, or harnessed up in a covered framework to represent horses, all
so contrived and painted that the spectator can hardly believe they are
not riding Lilliputian ponies no bigger than dogs. A child standing
in a car and carrying a branch on its shoulder, on one twig of which
stands another child on one foot or a girl holding a plate of cakes in
her hand, on the top of which stands another miss on tiptoe, the whole
borne by coolies, sometimes add to the diversion of the spectacle and
illustrate the mechanical skill of the exhibitors. Small companies
dressed in a great variety of military uniforms, carrying spears,
shields, halberds, etc., now and then volunteer for the occasion,
and give it a more martial appearance. The carpenters at Canton are
famous for their splendid processions in honor of their hero, Lu Pan,
in which also other craftsmen join; for this demi-god corresponds to
the Tubal-cain of Chinese legends, and is now regarded as the patron
of all workmen, though he flourished no longer ago than the time of
Confucius. Besides these festivities and processions, there are several
more strictly religious, such as the annual mass of the Buddhists, the
supplicatory sacrifice of farmers for a good crop, and others of more
or less importance, which add to the number of days of recreation.
~THEATRICAL REPRESENTATIONS AND PLAY-ACTORS.~
Theatrical representations constitute a common amusement, and are
generally connected with the religious celebration of the festival of
the god before whose temple they are exhibited. They are got up by the
priests, who send their neophytes around with a subscription paper,
and then engage as large and skilful a band of performers as the funds
will allow. There are few permanent buildings erected for theatres, for
the Thespian band still retains its original strolling character, and
stands ready to pack up its trappings at the first call. The erection
of sheds for playing constitutes a separate branch of the carpenter’s
trade; one large enough to accommodate two thousand persons can be put
up in the southern cities in a day, and almost the only part of the
materials which is wasted is the rattan which binds the posts and mats
together. One large shed contains the stage, and three smaller ones
before it enclose an area, and are furnished with rude seats for the
paying spectators. The subscribers’ bounty is acknowledged by pasting
red sheets containing their names and amounts upon the walls of the
temple. The purlieus are let as stands for the sale of refreshments,
for gambling tables, or for worse purposes, and by all these means the
priests generally contrive to make gain of their devotion.[385]
Parties of actors and acrobats can be hired cheaply, and their
performances form part of the festivities of rich families in their
houses to entertain the women and relatives who cannot go abroad to see
them. They are constituted into separate corporations or guilds, and
each takes a distinguishing name, as the ‘Happy and Blessed company,’
the ‘Glorious Appearing company,’ etc.
The performances usually extend through three entire days, with
brief recesses for sleeping and eating, and in villages where they
are comparatively rare, the people act as if they were bewitched,
neglecting everything to attend them. The female parts are performed
by lads, who not only paint and dress like women, but even squeeze
their toes into the “golden lilies,” and imitate, upon the stage, a
mincing, wriggling gait. These fellows personate the voice, tones, and
motions of the sex with wonderful exactness, taking every opportunity,
indeed, that the play will allow to relieve their feet by sitting when
on the boards, or retiring into the green-room when out of the acts.
The acting is chiefly pantomime, and its fidelity shows the excellent
training of the players. This development of their imitative faculties
is probably still more encouraged by the difficulty the audience
find to understand what is said; for owing to the differences in the
dialects, the open construction of the theatre, the high falsetto or
recitative key in which many of the parts are spoken, and the din of
the orchestra intervening between every few sentences, not one quarter
of the people hear or understand a word.
The scenery is very simple, consisting merely of rudely painted mats
arranged on the back and sides of the stage, a few tables, chairs, or
beds, which successively serve for many uses, and are brought in and
out from the robing-room. The orchestra sits on the side of the stage,
and not only fill up the intervals with their interludes, but strike
a crashing noise by way of emphasis, or to add energy to the rush of
opposing warriors. No falling curtain divides the acts or scenes, and
the play is carried to its conclusion without intermission. The dresses
are made of gorgeous silks, and present the best specimens of ancient
Chinese costume of former dynasties now to be seen. The imperfections
of the scenery require much to be suggested by the spectator’s
imagination, though the actors themselves supply the defect in a
measure by each man stating what part he performs, and what the person
he represents has been doing while absent. If a courier is to be sent
to a distant city, away he strides across the boards, or perhaps gets
a whip and cocks up his leg as if mounting a horse, and on reaching
the end of the stage cries out that he has arrived, and there delivers
his message. Passing a bridge or crossing a river are indicated by
stepping up and then down, or by the rolling motion of a boat. If a
city is to be impersonated, two or three men lie down upon each other,
when warriors rush on them furiously, overthrow the wall which they
formed, and take the place by assault. Ghosts or supernatural beings
are introduced through a wide trap-door in the stage, and, if he thinks
it necessary, the impersonator cries out from underneath that he is
ready, or for assistance to help him up through the hole.
~DESCRIPTION OF A PLAY.~
Mr. Lay describes a play he saw, in which a medley of celestial and
terrestrial personages were introduced. “The first scene was intended
to represent the happiness and splendor of beings who inhabit the upper
regions, with the sun and moon and the elements curiously personified
playing around them. The man who personated the sun held a round image
of the sun’s disk, while the female who acted the part of the moon had
a crescent in her hand. The actors took care to move so as to mimic the
conjunction and opposition of these heavenly bodies as they revolve
round in their apparent orbs. The Thunderer wielded an axe, and leaped
and dashed about in a variety of extraordinary somersaults. After a
few turns the monarch, who had been so highly honored as to find a
place, through the partiality of a mountain nymph, in the abodes of
the happy, begins to feel that no height of good fortune can secure
a mortal against the common calamities of this frail life. A wicked
courtier disguises himself in a tiger’s skin, and in this garb imitates
the animal itself. He rushes into the retired apartments of the ladies,
frightens them out of their wits, and throws the heir-apparent into a
moat. The sisters hurry into the royal presence, and casting themselves
on the ground divulge the sad intelligence that a tiger has borne off
the young prince, who it appears was the son of the mountain nymph
aforesaid. The loss the bereaved monarch takes so much to heart, that
he renounces the world and deliberates about the nomination of a
successor. By the influence of a crafty woman he selects a young man
who has just sense enough to know that he is a fool. The settlement
of the crown is scarcely finished when the unhappy king dies, and
the blockhead is presently invested with the crown, but instead of
excelling in his new preferment the lout bemoans his lot in the most
awkward strains of lamentation, and cries, ‘O dear! what shall I do?’
with such piteous action, and yet withal so truly ludicrous, that
the spectator is at a loss to know whether to laugh or to weep. The
courtier who had taken off the heir and broken the father’s heart finds
the new king an easy tool for prosecuting his traitorous purposes,
and the state is plunged into the depths of civil discord at home and
dangerous wars abroad.
“In the sequel a scene occurred in which the reconciliation of this
court and some foreign prince depends upon the surrender of a certain
obnoxious person. The son-in-law of the victim is charged with the
letter containing this proposal, and returns to his house and disguises
himself for the sake of concealment. When he reaches the court of the
foreign prince he discovers that he has dropped the letter in changing
his clothes, and narrowly escapes being taken for a spy without his
credentials. He hurries back, calls for his garments, and shakes them
one by one in an agony of self-reproach, but no letter appears. He
sits down, throwing himself with great violence upon the chair, with a
countenance inexpressibly full of torture and despair: reality could
have added nothing to the imitation. But while every eye was riveted
upon him, he called the servant-maid and inquired if she knew anything
about the letter; she replied she overheard her mistress reading a
letter whose contents were so and so. The mistress had taken her seat
at a distance from him and was nursing her baby; and the instant he
ascertained the letter was in her possession, he looked toward her
with such a smile upon his cheek, and with a flood of light in his
eye, that the whole assembly heaved a loud sigh of admiration; for the
Chinese do not applaud by clapping and stamping, but express their
feelings by an ejaculation that is between a sigh and a groan. The aim
of the husband was to wheedle his wife out of the letter, and this
smile and look of affection were merely the prelude; for he takes his
chair, places it beside her, lays one hand softly on her shoulder, and
fondles the child with the other in a style so exquisitely natural and
so completely English, that in this dramatic picture it was seen that
nature fashioneth men’s hearts alike. His addresses were, however,
ineffectual, and her father’s life was not sacrificed.”[386]
The morals of the Chinese stage, so far as the sentiments of the pieces
are concerned, are better than the acting, which sometimes panders
to depraved tastes, but no indecent exposure, as of the persons of
dancers, is ever seen in China. The audience stand in the area fronting
the stage, or sit in the sheds around it; the women present are usually
seated in the galleries. The police are at hand to maintain order,
but the crowd, although in an irksome position, and sometimes exposed
to a fierce sun, is remarkably peaceable. Accidents seldom occur on
these occasions, but whenever the people are alarmed by a crash, or the
stage takes fire, loss of life or limb generally ensues. A dreadful
destruction took place at Canton in May, 1845, by the conflagration of
a stage during the performances, by which more than two thousand lives
were sacrificed; the survivors had occasion to remember that fifty
persons had been killed many years before in the same place, and while
a play was going on, by the falling of a wall.[387]
~POPULAR AMUSEMENTS.~
Active, manly plays are not popular in the south, and instead of
engaging in a ball-game or regatta, going to a bowling alley or fives’
court, to exhibit their strength and skill, young men lift beams headed
with heavy stones, like huge dumb-bells, to prove their muscle, or
kick up their heels in a game of shuttlecock. The out-door amusements
of gentlemen consist in flying kites, carrying birds on perches and
throwing seeds high in the air for them to catch, sauntering through
the fields, or lazily boating on the water. Pitching coppers, fighting
crickets or quails, tossing up several balls at once, kicking large
leaden balls against each other, snapping sticks, chucking stones, or
guessing the number of seeds in an orange, are plays for lads.
~METHODS AND POPULARITY OF GAMBLING.~
Gambling is universal. Hucksters at the roadside are provided with
a cup and saucer, and the clicking of their dice is heard at every
corner. A boy with but two cash prefers to risk their loss on the throw
of a die to simply buying a cake without trying the chance of getting
it for nothing. Gaming-houses are opened by scores, their keepers
paying a bribe to the local officers, who can hardly be expected to be
very severe against what they were brought up in and daily practise;
and women, in the privacy of their apartments, while away their time
at cards and dominoes. Porters play by the wayside when waiting for
employment, and hardly have the retinue of an officer seen their
superiors enter the house, than they pull out their cards or dice and
squat down to a game. The most common game of luck played at Canton
is called _fan tan_, or ‘quadrating cash.’ The keeper of the table is
provided with a pile of bright large cash, of which he takes a double
handful, and lays them on the table, covering the pile with a bowl. The
persons standing outside the rail guess the remainder there will be
left after the pile has been divided by four, whether one, two, three,
or nothing, the guess and stake of each person being first recorded by
a clerk; the keeper then carefully picks out the coins four by four,
all narrowly watching his movements. Cheating is almost impossible in
this game, and twenty people can play at it as easily as two. Chinese
cards are smaller and more numerous than our own; but the dominoes are
the same.
Combats between crickets are oftenest seen in the south, where the
small field sort is common. Two well-chosen combatants are put into a
basin and irritated with a straw until they rush upon each other with
the utmost fury, chirruping as they make the onset, and the battle
seldom ends without a tragical result in loss of life or limb. Quails
are also trained to mortal combat; two are placed on a railed table, on
which a handful of millet has been strewn, and as soon as one picks up
a kernel the other flies at him with beak, claws, and wings, and the
struggle is kept up till one retreats by hopping into the hand of his
disappointed owner. Hundreds of dollars are occasionally betted upon
these cricket or quail fights, which, if not as sublime or exciting,
are certainly less inhuman than the pugilistic fights and bull-baits of
Christian countries, while both show the same brutal love of sport at
the expense of life.
[Illustration: Boys Gambling with Crickets.]
A favorite amusement is the flying of kites. They are made of paper
and silk, in imitation of birds, butterflies, lizards, spectacles,
fish, men, and other objects; but the skill shown in flying them is
more remarkable than the ingenuity displayed in their construction. The
ninth day of the ninth moon is a festival devoted to this amusement
all over the land. Doolittle describes them as sometimes resembling a
great bird, or a serpent thirty feet long; at other times the spectator
sees a group of hawks hovering around a centre, all being suspended by
one strong cord, and each hawk-kite controlled and moved by a separate
line. On this day he estimates that as many as thirty thousand people
assemble on the hills around Fuhchau to join in this amusement if the
weather be propitious. Many of the kites are cut adrift under the
belief that, as they float off, they carry away with them all impending
disasters.
[Illustration: Chinese Chess-board.]
~CHINESE CHESS.~
The Chinese game of chess is very ancient, for Wu Wang (B.C. 1120) is
the reputed inventor, and its rules of playing are so unlike the Indian
game as to suggest an independent origin, which is confirmed by the
peculiar feature of the _kiai ho_, or river, running across the board.
There are seventy-two squares, of which eight are run together to form
the river, leaving thirty-two on each side; but as the men stand on the
intersection of the lines, there are ninety positions for the sixteen
pieces used by each player, or twenty-six more than in the European
game. The pieces are arranged for playing as in the diagram above.
The pieces are like chequer-men in shape, each of the seven kinds on
each side having its name out on the top, and distinguished by its red
or black colors. The four squares near each edge form the headquarters
of the _tsiang_, or ‘general,’ out of which he and his two _sz’_, or
‘secretaries,’ cannot move. On each side of the headquarters are two
elephants, two horses, and two chariots, whose powers are less than our
bishop, knight, and castle, though similar; the chariot is the most
powerful piece. In front of the horses stand two cannoniers, which
capture like our knight but move like our castle. Five _pao_, soldiers
or pawns, guard the river banks, but cannot return when once across it
in pursuit of the enemy, and get no higher value when they reach the
last row. Each piece is put down in the point where it captured its
man, except the cannoniers; as the general cannot be taken, the object
of each player is to check-mate him in his headquarters, therefore,
by preventing his moving except into check. The want of a queen and
the limited moves of the men restrict the combinations in the Chinese
game more than in western chess, but it has its own elements of skill.
Literary men and women play it much, and usually for small stakes.
There is another game played less frequently but one of the most
ancient in the Empire. It is called _wei-kí_, which may be rendered
‘blockade chess,’ and was common in the days of the sages, perhaps even
earlier than chess. The board contains three hundred and twenty-four
squares, eighteen each way, and the number of pieces is three hundred,
though both the number of points and of pieces may be less than this
size of the full game. The pieces are black and white and stand on the
crossings of the lines, three hundred and sixty-one in number. The
object of the opponents is to surround each other’s men and take up the
crossings they occupy, or neutralize their power over those near them.
Each player puts down a piece anywhere on the board, and continues to
do so alternately, capturing his adversary’s positions until all the
crossings are occupied and the game is ended.[388]
If this sketch of the customs and amusements of the Chinese in their
social intercourse and public entertainments is necessarily brief, it
is perhaps enough to exhibit their character. Dr. Johnson has well
remarked that no man is a hypocrite in his amusements. The absence of
some of the violent and gladiatorial sports of other countries, and
of the adjudication of doubtful questions by ordeals or duels; the
general dislike of a resort to force, their inability to cope with
enemies of vastly less resources and numbers, and the comparative
disesteem of warlike achievements, all indicate the peaceful traits of
Chinese character. Duels are unknown, assassinations are infrequent,
betting on horse-races is still to begin, and running amuck à la Malay
is unheard of. When two persons fall out upon a matter, after a vast
variety of gesture and huge vociferation of opprobrium, they will blow
off their wrath and separate almost without touching each other. Some
contrarieties in their ideas and customs from those practised among
ourselves have frequently been noticed by travellers, a few of which
are grouped in the following sketch:
~CONTRARIETIES IN CHINESE AND WESTERN USAGE.~
On asking the boatman in which direction the harbor lay, I was
answered west-north, and the wind, he said, was west-south; he still
further perplexed my ideas as to our course by getting out his
compass and showing me that the needle pointed south. It was really
a needle as to size, weight, and length, about an inch and a half
long, the south end of it painted red, and all the time quivering
on the pivot. His boat differed from our vessels, too, in many
ways: the cooking was done in the stern and the passengers were all
accommodated in the bow, while the sailors slept on deck and had
their kits stowed in lockers amidships.
On landing, the first object that attracted my attention was a
military officer wearing an embroidered petticoat, who had a string
of beads around his neck and a fan in his hand. His insignia of rank
was a peacock’s feather pointing downward instead of a plume turning
upward; he had a round knob or button on the apex of his sugar-loaf
cap, instead of a star on his breast or epaulettes on his shoulders;
and it was with some dismay that I saw him mount his horse on the
right side. Several scabbards hung from his belt, which I naturally
supposed must be dress swords or dirks; but on venturing near through
the crowd I was undeceived by seeing a pair of chopsticks and a
knife-handle sticking out of one, and soon his fan was folded up
and put in the other. I therefore concluded that he was going to a
dinner instead of a review. The natives around me shaved the hair
from the front half of their heads and let it grow long behind: many
of them did not shave their faces, and others employed their leisure
in diligently pulling the straggling hairs down over their mouths.
We arrange our toilets differently, thought I; but could easily see
the happy device of chopsticks, which enabled these gentlemen to put
their food into the mouth endwise under this natural fringe. A group
of hungry fellows, around the stall of a travelling cook, further
exhibited the utility of these _kwai-tsz’_, or ‘nimble lads’ (as I
afterward learned chopsticks were called), for each had put his bowl
of rice to his lips, and was shovelling in the contents till the
mouth would hold no more. “We keep our bowls on the table,” said I,
“do our cooking in the house, and wait for customers to come there
instead of travelling around after them;” but these chopsticks serve
for knife, fork, and spoon in one.
On my way to the hotel I saw a group of old people and graybeards. A
few were chirruping and chuckling to larks or thrushes, which they
carried perched on a stick or in cages; others were catching flies or
hunting for crickets to feed them, while the remainder of the party
seemed to be delightfully employed in flying fantastic paper kites.
A group of boys were gravely looking on and regarding these innocent
occupations of their seniors with the most serious and gratified
attention. A few of the most sprightly were kicking a shuttlecock
back and forth with great energy, instead of playing rounders with
bat and ball as boys would do.
As I had come to the country to reside for some time, I made
inquiries respecting a teacher, and happily found one who understood
English. On entering he stood at the door, and instead of coming
forward and shaking my hands, he politely bowed and shook his own,
clasping them before his breast. I looked upon this mode as an
improvement on our custom, especially when the condition of the hands
might be doubtful, and requested him to be seated. I knew that I was
to study a language without an alphabet, but was not prepared to see
him begin at what I had always considered to be the end of the book.
He read the date of its publication, “the fifth year, tenth month,
and first day.” “We arrange our dates differently,” I observed, and
begged him to read--which he did, from top to bottom, and proceeding
from right to left. “You have an odd book here,” remarked I, taking
it up; “what is the price?” “A dollar and eight-thirds,” said he,
upon which I counted out three dollars and two-thirds and went on
looking at it. The paper was printed only on one side; the running
title was on the edge of the leaves instead of the top of the page,
the paging was near the bottom, the number and contents of the
chapters were at their ends, the marginal notes on the top, where the
blank was double the size at the foot, and a broad black line across
the middle of each page, like that seen in some French newspapers,
separated the two works composing the volume, instead of one being
printed after the other. The back was open and the sewing outside,
and the name neatly written on the bottom edge. “You have given me
too much,” said he, as he handed me back two dollars and one-third,
and then explained that eight-thirds meant eight divided by three, or
only three-eighths. A small native vocabulary which he carried with
him had the characters arranged according to the termination of their
sounds, _ming_, _sing_, _king_, being all in a row, and the first
word in it being _seen_. “Ah! my friend,” said I, “English won’t help
me to find a word in that book; please give me your address.” He
accordingly took out a red card, big as a sheet of paper, on which
was written Ying San-yuen in large characters, and pointed out the
place of his residence, written on the other side. “I thought your
name was Mr. Ying; why do you write your name wrong end first?”
“It is you who are in the wrong,” replied he; “look in your yearly
directory, where alone you write names as they should be written,
putting the honored family name first.”
I could only say, “Customs differ;” and begged him to speak of
ceremony, as I gave him back the book. He commenced, “When you
receive a distinguished guest, do not fail to place him on your
left, for that is the seat of honor; and be careful not to uncover
the head, as that would be an unbecoming act of familiarity.” This
was a little opposed to my established notions; but when he reopened
the volume and read, “The most learned men are decidedly of the
opinion that the seat of the human understanding is in the belly,” I
cried out, “Better say it is in the feet!” and straightway shut up
the book, dismissing him for another day; for this shocked all my
principles of correct philosophy, even if King Solomon was against me.
On going abroad I met so many things contrary to my early notions of
propriety that I readily assented to a friend’s observation, that
the Chinese were our antipodes in many things besides geographical
position. “Indeed,” said I, “they are so; I shall expect shortly to
see a man walking on his head. Look! there’s a woman in trousers
and a party of gentlemen in petticoats; she is smoking and they are
fanning themselves.” However, on passing them I saw that the latter
had on tight leggings. We soon met the steward of the house dressed
in white, and I asked him what merry-making he was invited to; with
a look of concern he told me he was returning from his father’s
funeral. Instead of having crape on his head he wore white shoes,
and his dress was slovenly and neglected. My companion informed me
that in the north of China it was common for rich people at funerals
to put a white harness on the mules and shroud the carts in coarse
cotton; while the chief mourners walked next to the bier, making loud
cryings and showing their grief by leaning on the attendants. The
friends rode behind and the musicians preceded the coffin--all being
unlike our sable plumes and black crapes.
We next went through a retired street, where we heard sobbing and
crying inside a court, and I inquired who was dead or ill. The man,
suppressing a smile, said, “It is a girl about to be married, who is
lamenting with her relatives and fellows as she bids adieu to the
family penates and lares and her paternal home. She has enough to cry
about, though, in the prospect of going to her mother-in-law’s house.”
I thought, after these unlucky essays, I would ask no more questions,
but use my eyes instead. Looking into a shop, I saw a stout fellow
sewing lace on a bonnet for a foreign lady; and going on to the
landing-place, behold, all the ferry-boats were rowed by women, and
from a passage-boat at the wharf I saw all the women get out of the
bow to go ashore. “What are we coming to next?” said I; and just then
saw a carpenter take his foot-rule out of his stocking to measure
some timber which an apprentice was cutting with a saw whose blade
was set nearly at right angles with the frame. Before the door sat a
man busily engaged in whitening the thick soles of a pair of cloth
shoes. “That’s a shoewhite, I suppose,” said I; “and he answers to
the shoeblacks in New York, who cry ‘Shine! shine!’” “Just so,” said
my friend; “and beyond him see the poor wretch in _chokey_, with a
board or cangue around his neck for a shirt-collar; an article of his
toilet which answers to the cuffs with which the lads in the Tombs
there are garnished instead of bracelets. In the prisons in this
land, instead of cropping the hair of a criminal, as with us, no man
is allowed to have his head shaved.”
In the alleys called streets, few of them ten feet wide, the signs
stood on their ends or hung from the eaves; the counters of the shops
were next the street, the fronts were all open, and I saw the holes
for the upright bars which secured the shop at night. Everything was
done or sold in the streets or markets, which presented a strange
medley. The hogs were transported in hampers on the shoulders of
coolies, to the evident satisfaction of the inmates, and small pigs
were put into baskets carried in slings, while the fish were frisking
and jumping in shallow tubs as they were hawked from door to door.
A loud din led us to look in at an open door to see what was going
on, and there a dozen boys were learning their tasks, all crying like
auctioneers; one lad reciting his lesson out of Confucius turned his
back to the master instead of looking him in the face, and another
who was learning to write put the copy-slip under the paper to
imitate it, instead of looking at it as our boys would do.
We next passed a fashionable lady stepping out of her sedan chair.
Her head was adorned with flowers instead of a bonnet, her hands
gloveless, and her neck quite bare. Her feet were encased in red silk
pictured shoes not quite four inches long; her plaited, embroidered
petticoat was a foot longer than her gown, and her waist was not to
be seen. As she entered the court-yard, leaning on the shoulder of
her maid to help her walk on those cramped feet, my friend observed,
“There you see a good example of a live walking-stick.”
A little after we met one of his acquaintances accompanying a
prettily carved coffin, and he asked who was dead.
“No man hab catchee die,” replied the Celestial; “this one piecy
coffin I just now gib my olo fader. He likee too much counta my numba
one ploper; s’pose he someteem catchee die, can usee he.”
“So fashion, eh?” rejoined my friend; “how muchee plice can catchee
one alla same same for that?”
“I tinky can get one alla same so fashion one tousan dollar, so; this
hab first chop hansom, lo.”
“Do you call that gibberish English or Chinese?” I asked; for the
language sounded no less strange than the custom of presenting a
coffin to a living father differed from my preconceived notions of
filial duty.
“That’s the purest pigeon-English,” replied he; “and you must be the
Jack Downing of Canton to immortalize it.”
“Come, rather let us go home, for soon I shall hardly be able to tell
where or who I am in this strange land.”[389]
~COMMENDABLE TRAITS OF CHINESE CHARACTER.~
In summing up the moral traits of Chinese character--a far more
difficult task than the enumeration of its oddities--we must
necessarily compare them with that perfect standard given us from
above. While their contrarieties indicate a different external
civilization, a slight acquaintance with their morals proves their
similarity to their fellow-men in the lineaments of a fallen and
depraved nature. Some of the better traits of their character have been
marvellously developed. They have attained, by the observance of peace
and good order, to a high degree of security for life and property;
the various classes of society are linked together in a remarkably
homogeneous manner by the diffusion of education in the most moral
books in their language and a general regard for the legal rights of
property. Equality of competition for office removes the main incentive
to violence in order to obtain posts of power and dignity, and
industry receives its just reward of food, raiment, and shelter with
a uniformity which encourages its constant exertion. If any one asks
how they have reached this point, we would primarily ascribe it to the
blessing of the Governor of the nations, who has for His own purposes
continued one people down to the present time from remote antiquity.
The roots of society among them have never been broken up by emigration
or the overflowing conquest of a superior race, but have been fully
settled in a great regard for the family compact and deep reverence for
parents and superiors. Education has strengthened and disseminated the
morality they had, and God has blessed their filial piety by fulfilling
the first commandment with promise and making their days long in the
land which He has given them. Davis lays rather too much stress upon
geographical and climatic causes in accounting for their advancement in
these particulars, though their isolation has no doubt had much to do
with their security and progress.
When, however, these traits have been mentioned, the Chinese are still
more left without excuse for their wickedness, since being without
law, they are a law unto themselves; they have always known better
than they have done. With a general regard for outward decency, they
are vile and polluted in a shocking degree; their conversation is
full of filthy expressions and their lives of impure acts. They are
somewhat restrained in the latter by the fences put around the family
circle, so that seduction and adultery are comparatively infrequent,
the former may even be said to be rare; but brothels and their inmates
occur everywhere on land and on water. One danger attending young girls
going abroad alone is that they will be stolen for incarceration in
these gates of hell. By pictures, songs, and aphrodisiacs they excite
their sensuality, and, as the Apostle says, “receive in themselves that
recompense of their error which is meet.”
~MENDACITY OF THE CHINESE.~
More uneradicable than the sins of the flesh is the falsity of the
Chinese, and its attendant sin of base ingratitude; their disregard of
truth has perhaps done more to lower their character than any other
fault. They feel no shame at being detected in a lie (though they have
not gone quite so far as not to know when they do lie), nor do they
fear any punishment from their gods for it. On the other hand, the
necessity of the case compels them, in their daily intercourse with
each other, to pay some regard to truth, and each man, from his own
consciousness, knows just about how much to expect. Ambassadors and
merchants have not been in the best position to ascertain their real
character in this respect; for on the one side the courtiers of Peking
thought themselves called upon by the mere presence of an embassy to
put on some fictitious appearances, and on the other, the integrity
and fair dealing of the hong merchants and great traders at Canton
is in advance of the usual mercantile honesty of their countrymen. A
Chinese requires but little motive to falsify, and he is constantly
sharpening his wits to cozen his customer--wheedle him by promises and
cheat him in goods or work. There is nothing which tries one so much
when living among them as their disregard of truth, and renders him so
indifferent as to what calamities may befall so mendacious a race; an
abiding impression of suspicion toward everybody rests upon the mind,
which chills the warmest wishes for their welfare and thwarts many a
plan to benefit them. Their better traits diminish in the distance, and
patience is exhausted in its daily proximity and friction with this
ancestor of all sins. Mr. Abeel mentions a case of deceit which may
serve as a specimen.
Soon after we arrived at Kulang su, a man came to us who professed
to be the near relation and guardian of the owners of the house in
which we live, and presented a little boy as the joint proprietor
with his widowed mother. From the appearance of the house and the
testimony of others we could easily credit his story that the family
were now in reduced circumstances, having not only lost the house
when the English attacked the place, but a thousand dollars besides
by native robbers; we therefore allowed him a small rent, and gave
the dollars to the man, who put them into the hands of the child.
The next month he made his appearance, but our servant, whom we had
taken to be peculiarly honest for a heathen, suggested the propriety
of inquiring whether the money was ever given to those for whom it
was professedly received; and soon returned with the information
that the mother had heard nothing of the money, the man who received
it not living in the family, but had now sent a lad to us who would
receive it for her, and who our servants assured us would give it to
the proper person. A day or two afterward our cook whispered to me
that our _honest_ servant, who had taken so much pains to prevent
all fraud in the matter, had made the lad give him one-half of the
money for his disinterestedness in preventing it from falling into
improper hands; and further examination showed us that this very cook
had himself received a good share to keep silent.
Thieving is exceedingly common, and the illegal exactions of the
rulers, as has already been sufficiently pointed out, are most
burdensome. This vice, too, is somewhat restrained by the punishments
inflicted on criminals, though the root of the evil is not touched.
While the licentiousness of the Chinese may be in part ascribed
to their ignorance of pure intellectual pleasures and the want of
virtuous female society, so may their lying be attributed partly to
their truckling fear of officers, and their thievery to the want
of sufficient food or work. Hospitality is not a trait of their
character; on the contrary, the number and wretched condition of
the beggars show that public and private charity is almost extinct;
yet here too the sweeping charge must be modified when we remember
the efforts they make to sustain their relatives and families in so
densely peopled a country. Their avarice is not so distinguishing a
feature as their love of money, but the industry which this desire
induces or presupposes is the source of most of their superiority to
their neighbors. The politeness which they exhibit seldom has its
motive in good-will, and consequently, when the varnish is off, the
rudeness, brutality, and coarseness of the material is seen; still,
among themselves this exterior polish is not without some good results
in preventing quarrels, where both parties, fully understanding each
other, are careful not to overpass the bounds of etiquette.
On the whole, the Chinese present a singular mixture: if there is
something to commend, there is more to blame; if they have some
glaring vices, they have more virtues than most pagan nations.
Ostentatious kindness and inbred suspicion, ceremonious civility and
real rudeness, partial invention and servile imitation, industry and
waste, sycophancy and self-dependence, are, with other dark and bright
qualities, strangely blended. In trying to remedy the faults of their
character by the restraints of law and the diffusion of education,
they have no doubt hit upon the right mode; and their shortcomings
show how ineffectual both must be until the Gospel comes to the aid of
ruler and subject in elevating the moral sense of the whole nation.
Female infanticide in some parts openly confessed, and divested of
all disgrace and penalties everywhere; the dreadful prevalence of all
the vices charged by the Apostle Paul upon the ancient heathen world;
the alarming extent of the use of opium (furnished, too, under the
patronage, and supplied in purity by the power and skill of Great
Britain from India), destroying the productions and natural resources
of the people; the universal practice of lying and dishonest dealings;
the unblushing lewdness of old and young; harsh cruelty toward
prisoners by officers, and tyranny over slaves by masters--all form a
full unchecked torrent of human depravity, and prove the existence of
a kind and degree of moral degradation of which an excessive statement
can scarcely be made, or an adequate conception hardly be formed.
END OF VOLUME I.
FOOTNOTES:
[370] Compare p. 628.
[371] _Social Life of the Chinese_, Chapters II. and III.; _China_,
Chap. VII.; also _Fourteen Months in Canton_, by Mrs. Gray.
[372] _Chinese Repository_, Vols. IV., p. 568, and X., pp. 65-70;
_Annales de la Foi_, No. XL., 1835.
[373] _Voyages à Peking_, Tome II., p. 283.
[374] _Chinese Repository_, Vol. I., p. 293.
[375] _China_, Chap. VII.
[376] Doolittle’s _Handbook_, Vol. III., p. 660, gives a list of names
collected at Fuhchau, which are applicable to other provinces.
[377] _Memoir of Dr. Morrison_, Vol. II., p. 142.
[378] _Chinese Chrestomathy_, Chap. V., Sec. 12, p. 182. This phrase is
the origin of the word _chinchin_, so often heard among the Chinese.
[379] Compare the _China Review_, Vol. IV., p. 400.
[380] _Chinese Repository_, Vol. XV., p. 433. _Book of Records_,
Part V., Book X., Legge’s translation; also Medhurst’s and Gaubil’s
translations.
[381] Nevius, _China and the Chinese_, pp. 399-408.
[382] A like custom existed among the Hebrews, now continued in the
modern _mezuzaw_. Deut. vi. 9. Jahn’s _Archæology_, p. 38.
[383] _Presbyterian Missionary Chronicle_, 1846.
[384] Compare Morrison’s Dictionary under _Tsung_; Doolittle, _Social
Life_, Vol. II., pp. 55-60; _Notes and Queries on China and Japan_,
Vol. II., p. 157.
[385] Gray’s _China_ (Vol. II., p. 273) contains a cut of a mat theatre
from a native drawing. See also Doolittle, _Social Life_, Vol. II., pp.
292-299.
[386] _Chinese as They Are_, p. 114.
[387] _Chinese Repository_, Vol. XIV., p. 335.
[388] _Temple Bar_, Vol. XLIX., p. 45.
[389] _Chinese Repository_, Vol. X., p. 106; _New York Christian
Weekly_, 1878.
* * * * * *
Transcriber's note:
In the introductory matter, page numbers xiii to xv are repeated.
The map printed on p. 66 contains two letters "K".
Large tables have been reformatted to fit smaller screens.
The following apparent errors have been corrected:
p. xiii "Geograhical" changed to "Geographical"
p. xiv "Chinchau" changed to "Chinchew"
p. xvii "6. Execution" changed to "6, Execution"
p. xxi "_Chung Kwoh Tsung-lun_." changed to "_Chung Kwoh Tsung-lun_,"
p. 29 (header) "WALL" changed to "WALL."
p. 35 "less that" changed to "less than"
p. 80 "interspered" changed to "interspersed"
p. 86 (note) "1840" changed to "1840."
p. 92 "Tsing" changed to "Tsíning"
p. 93 "combinatious" changed to "combinations"
p. 109 "Hwaichau" changed to "Hwuichau"
p. 114 "estward" changed to "eastward"
p. 159 "direction." changed to "direction,"
p. 181 "Monhot" changed to "Mouhot"
p. 181 "by north" changed to "north by"
p. 184 "diving" changed to "driving"
p. 190 "Amur at at" changed to "Amur at"
p. 199 "owerawe" changed to "overawe"
p. 228 "Oigours" changed to "Ouigours"
p. 234 (note) "chinesichen" changed to "chinesischen"
p. 243 (note) "_Bull_" changed to "_Bull._" (two instances)
p. 244 "grain the" changed to "grain, the"
p. 250 "nos!’”" changed to "nos!’"
p. 255 "‘or great" changed to "or ‘great"
p. 279 (note) "Bart" changed to "Bart."
p. 322 "larnyx" changed to "larynx"
p. 282 "well as beaten.[160]"--footnote reference added
p. 305 "less." changed to "less.”"
p. 328 "county rat" changed to "country rat"
p. 339 "insigna" changed to "insignia"
p. 339 "give them them" changed to "give them"
p. 372 "tweny-nine" changed to "twenty-nine"
p. 383 "apprehensien" changed to "apprehension"
p. 404 "sucsessor" changed to "successor"
p. 405 "tsung-shih" changed to "Tsung-shih"
p. 405 "Gioro" changed to "_Gioro_"
p. 412 (note) "p 69" changed to "p. 69"
p. 421 (note) "_Essai sur l’Instruction_ en _Chine_" changed to "_Essai
sur l’Instruction en Chine_"
p. 427 "thoughout" changed to "throughout"
p. 434 "14. The HANLIN YUEN" changed to "13. The HANLIN YUEN"
p. 452 "usual" changed to "unusual"
p. 462 "Lungchau." changed to "Lungchau,"
p. 509 "banishishment" changed to "banishment"
p. 511 "frequenty" changed to "frequently"
p. 522 "fathful" changed to "faithful"
p. 533 (note) "Berückschtigung" changed to "Berücksichtigung"
p. 535 "begining" changed to "beginning"
p. 539 "malady" changed to "malady."
p. 543 "cents" changed to "cents."
p. 543 "points" changed to "point"
p. 552 "medium.” “A" changed to "medium.”--“A"
p. 559 "It can" changed to "it can"
p. 573 "deceased‘s" changed to "deceased"
p. 576 "elswhere" changed to "elsewhere"
p. 577 "tenor" changed to "tenor:"
p. 577 "time" changed to "time."
p. 583 "varients" changed to "variants"
p. 591 "os whatever" changed to "of whatever"
p. 594 "understood" changed to "understand"
p. 606 "limmers" changed to "limners"
p. 610 "_departing tone_" changed to "_departing_ tone"
p. 612 "_^{ng}_(a" changed to "_^{ng}_ (a"
p. 627 "_Liang_ Í" changed to "_Liang Í_"
p. 683 "dominated" changed to "denominated"
p. 687 "secured" changed to "secured."
p. 693 "callection" changed to "collection"
p. 694 "altogther" changed to "altogether"
p. 721 "enjoy‘s" changed to "enjoys"
p. 727 "hierachy" changed to "hierarchy"
p. 751 "another, aud" changed to "another, and"
p. 788 (note) "Mrs" changed to "Mrs."
p. 795 "occured" changed to "occurred"
p. 832 "Conufcius" changed to "Confucius"
Archaic or inconsistent language and punctuation have otherwise been
kept as printed. In particular, the following possible errors have not
been changed:
pp. 67 and 503 cortége
pp. 150 and 169 enciente
p. 182 Urh hai or Uhr sea
p. 192 crenulated
p. 297 alluvial plane
p. 694 bestead
The following are used inconsistently in the text:
Compass directions (e.g. northwest/north-west) are inconsistently
hyphenated
aërial and aerial
ærolites and aerolites
background and back-ground
chihlí and chih-lí
cocoanuts and cocoa-nuts
crawfish and craw-fish
demigod and demi-god
dépôt and depot
earrings and ear-rings
Édifiantes and Edifiantes
Façade and Facade
firstborn and first-born
flagstaffs and flag-staffs
Fuhhí and Fuh-hí
Grainery and Granary
grasscloth and grass-cloth and Kwachau
headmen and head-men
headquarters and head-quarters
headwaters and head-waters
hiohching and hioh-ching
horseshoe and horse-shoe
hum and hûm
Hungtsih and Hung-tsih
inflow and in-flow
jih and juh
Kihngan and Kih-ngan
Kílung and Kilung
Kisilbash and Kisil-bash
Kwachau and Kwa-chau
Lí-fan and Li-fan
Lintsing and Lin-tsing
Lohyang and Loh-yang
maladministration and mal-administration
Manasarowa and Manasa-rowa
matchmaker and match-maker
Ma Tsupu and Ma Tsu-pu
merrymaking and merry-making
Nankau and Nan-kau
Ningyuen and Ning-yuen
overtopped and over-topped
Pwanyü and Pwanyu
rainfall and rain-fall
reöpened and reopened
résumé and resumé
ridgepole and ridge-pole
rockwork and rock-work
seaboard and sea-board
seacoast and sea-coast
seashore and sea-shore
sea-weed and seaweed
semicircular and semi-circular
Shameen and Sha-meen
Shanhai and Shan-hai
Shihpah and Shih-pah
Síngan and Sí-ngan
Síning and Sí-ning
signboards and sign-boards
silkworm and silk-worm
stiffnecked and stiff-necked
Suitsing and Sui-tsing
synonyms and synonymes
Talí and Ta-lí
Tapa and Ta-pa
threefold and three-fold
títuh and tí-tuh
Tsitsihar and Tsi-tsi-har
tsiangkiun and tsiang-kiun
Tsupu and Tsu-pu
Tungkwan and Tung-kwan
twofold and two-fold
untamable and untameable
Ushí and Ushi
vicegerent and vice-gerent
watercourses and water-courses
watershed and water-shed
wellnigh and well-nigh
wheelbarrows and wheel-barrows
widespread and wide-spread
woodwork and wood-work
Yuenming and Yuen-ming