The third method of obtaining the essays of other persons, is called

"transmission" (ch'uan ti). This can only be accomplished by the

coA¶peration of the inspectors (hsA1/4n ch'ang) who, like all other mortals,

are supposed to be perfectly open to considerations of temporal advantage,

if only arguments of sufficient strength are employed. As soon as the

Chancellor's theme is announced, it is copied, and at a preconcerted

signal thrown over the wall of the examination premises to persons waiting

for it. Several scholars outside may have been previously engaged to write

essays for different persons within the hall. When the essays are finished

they are carefully done up, and at a signal, such as a call for a dog or

for a cat, are thrown over the wall to the watchman, who has been

previously paid to receive them. The inspector, also liberally fed,

ascertains from a private mark on each essay, for whom it is intended, and

while pacing back and forth through the hall, contrives to deliver them,

without being seen by the Chancellor. In one case, six persons were known

to have received their degrees, on the merits of essays which were brought

into the hall after being thrown over the wall in a single bundle.

Sometimes essays are concealed in the body of a harmless-looking

bread-cake, which is tossed carelessly from one candidate to another when

the lunches are eaten, with the connivance, no doubt, of the inspectors.

The District Magistrates sometimes post the Secretaries at the corners of

the examination hall, where it is easy to see all that goes on. But much

more often, it is probable, that the Magistrate takes little interest in

such details.

In some examinations, the Chancellors are very strict, and forbid any of

the watchmen to enter the hall at all, which, of course, checkmates the

plan last described. Such instances are much more than offset by others,

in which the Chancellor does not remain through the examination himself,

but entrusts the conduct of affairs to his Secretaries. These

functionaries are then at liberty to furnish essays to candidates who can

afford to pay the heavy price necessary. In such cases, while ostensibly

examining the essays, the Secretaries find it easy to throw one of their

own under a stool, or in some place from which it may be readily captured

by the purchaser.

In a case reported in the _Peking Gazette_ some years since, a bold vendor

of essays succeeded in getting his paper conveyed to the individual for

whom it was intended, by hooking it on the garments of the venerable

Chancellor himself, who thus unconsciously became the bearer of the very

documents which he was endeavouring to suppress! The candidates at the

Chancellor's examination are generally seated in such proximity, that

including those on each side, most of the students are within easy reach

of ten or fifteen other persons. This renders the transfer of papers an

easy matter. In the second of these trials, when the number is reduced to

a mere handful, the students are often seated just as compactly as before.

A scholar with whom the writer is acquainted, once found himself near a

poor fellow, who was utterly at a loss how to treat the theme from

Mencius, "Like climbing a tree to catch a fish." A verbal arrangement was

hastily made for the purchase of an essay, but the usual written agreement

was omitted. The essay was indited in the lawless style of chirography

known as the "grass character," and handed to the purchaser to be copied.

Here an untoward accident occurred, for the man who bought the essay

mistook two characters, when he copied out the paper, for two others which

they much resembled, thus ruining the chances of success. The poor scholar

begged off from the amount which he had agreed to pay, (which was about

ten dollars) on the plea of poverty. The angry essay-seller then raised a

kind of mob of students, went to the lodgings of his debtor and made an

uproar, the result of which was to extract from the latter about a dollar

and a half, which was all that could be got! The preceptor of the man who

sold the essay, who was himself one of the candidates at this examination,

claimed, with many others, that the essay which was sold, as represented

by the author, must certainly have resulted in a degree for the poor

scholar if he had not blundered in inditing false characters.

Should an examiner overlook a wrong character, and the fact be afterward

made public, he might be degraded for his carelessness. A case of this

sort was reported a few years ago in the _Peking Gazette_. At the

triennial examination for the Han-lin, in the year 1871, after the essays

had been submitted to the Han-lin examiners, the nine most meritorious

ones were selected, and were sent in to the Empress Dowager--the Emperor

being under age--to have the award formally confirmed. The work of

greatest merit was placed uppermost, but the old lady, who had an

imperial will of her own, was anxious to thwart the decision of the

learned pundits; and, as chance would have it, the sunlight fell upon the

chosen manuscript, and she discovered a flaw, a thinness in the paper,

indicating a place in the composition where one character had been erased

and another substituted. The Empress rated the examiners for allowing such

"slovenly work" to pass, and proclaimed another man, whose name was

Hsiang, as victor. This individual hailed from the province of

Kuang-tung--a province which had produced a Senior Wrangler but once in

250 years. On his return to his native province the successful scholar was

received by the local authorities with the highest possible honours. All

the families owning his surname who could afford to do so paid enormous

sums to be permitted to come and worship at his ancestral hall, for by

this means they established a _pseudo_ claim to relationship, and were

allowed to place tablets over the entrances of their own halls inscribed

with the title Chuang YA1/4an, or Senior Wrangler. The superstitious

Cantonese believed that the sunbeam which revealed the fatal flaw was a

messenger sent from heaven!

The fact that a man has taken the degree of hsiu-ts'ai, does not release

him from the necessity of studying. On the contrary, this is called

"entering school," and the graduate is required to present himself at each

triennial examination, to compete for the next step in the scale of

honours, that of ling-shAȘng hsiu-ts'ai. The number of graduates who can

attain the rank of ling-shAȘng in any one year is limited. In a district

which graduates seventeen hsiu-ts'ai, there may be but one or two

ling-shAȘng graduates passed at a time. There are, however, extra

examinations, as already explained, in case of the accession of an

Emperor, etc., and when a vacancy in the fixed number takes place through

death, an additional candidate is allowed to pass to fill the place. A

hsiu-ts'ai is not allowed to decline the examination merely on account of

the improbability of his passing it; on the contrary, every graduate is

required to compete as often as examinations occur. This is the theory,

but as a matter of fact, the payment of about a dollar and a half to the

underlings of the Superintendent of Instruction for the District will

enable the candidate to have an entry opposite his name, signifying that

he is "incapacitated by illness," or is "not at home." But after the

graduate has been examined ten times, and has persistently failed to show

any capacity for further advance, he is excused from examination

thereafter, and his name is dropped. At these examinations the candidates

are divided into four classes according to the respective merits of their

essays. If any candidate fails to get into the first three classes, he is

regarded as having forfeited his title to the grade of hsiu-ts'ai, and he

loses his rank as such, unless the Chancellor can be prevailed upon to

excuse his "rotten scholarship," and give the unfortunate student another

trial. Hence the proverb, "The hsiu-ts'ai dreads the fourth class." The

ling-shAȘng is entitled to a small allowance of about $10 a year, from the

Government, to assist him in the prosecution of his studies, though the

amount can hardly be regarded as proportioned to the difficulty of

attaining the rank which alone is entitled to receive this meagre help.

The ling-shAȘng graduates are required to compete at the triennial

examinations, for the next step, which is that of kung-shAȘng. Only one

candidate can enter this rank at one examination unless there should be a

special vacancy.

There are five varieties of kung-shAȘng, according to the time at which and

the conditions under which they have graduated. These scholars do not,

like the ling-shAȘng, act as bondsmen for undergraduates, nor do they like

them, have an allowance. They are permitted to wear a semi-official robe,

and are addressed by a title of respect, but in a pecuniary point of view

their honours are empty ones, unless they secure the place of

Superintendent of Instruction, which must, however, be in some district

other than their own. The kung-shAȘng and the hsiu-ts'ai are at opposite

ends of one division of the long educational road. The former is regarded

as a schoolboy, and the latter is for the first time a man, and need be

examined no more, unless he chooses to compete for the rank of Selected

Man, (chA1/4-jAȘn) an examination which has intricacies and perils of its own.

"The hsiu-ts'ai," says the proverb, "must have talent, but the chA1/4-jAȘn

must have fate," that is, no amount of talent, by itself, will suffice to

win this higher rank, unless the fates are on one's side, a proposition

which we are prepared to believe, from what has already been seen of the

lower grades of scholarship.

At any part of the long process which we have described, it is possible to

become a candidate for honours above, by purchasing those below. A man of

real talent, studiously inclined, might for example buy the rank of

ling-shAȘng, and then with a preceptor of his own, and great diligence,

become a kung-shAȘng, a chA1/4-jAȘn, and perhaps at last an official, skipping

all the tedious lower steps. The taint of having climbed over the wall,

instead of entering by the straight and narrow way, would doubtless cling

to him forever, but this circumstance would probably not interfere with

his equanimity, so long as it did not diminish his profits. As a matter of

experience, however, it is probable that it would be more worth while to

buy an office outright, rather than to enter the field, by the circuitous

route of a combination of purchase and examinations.

Whether to be examined or not is not always optional in China. A father

was determined that his son should study for a degree, which the son was

very unwilling to do, yielding however to compulsion. He was so successful

that at the age of nineteen he became a Bachelor, only to find that his

father's ambition was far from satisfied, and that he now required him to

go on and work for the next degree of Selected Man. Perceiving that there

was no hope of escaping this discouraging task, the youth hung himself,

and was examined no more!

The office of Superintendent of Instruction, is considered a very

desirable one, since the duties are light, and the income considerable.

This income arises partly from a large tract of land set apart for the

support of the two Superintendents, partly from "presents" of grain

exacted twice a year after the manner of Buddhist priests, and partly from

fees which every graduate is required to pay, varying as all such Chinese

payments do, according to the circumstances of the individual. The

Superintendent is careful to inquire privately into the means at the

disposal of each graduate, and fixes his tax accordingly. From his

decision there is no appeal. If the payment is resisted as excessive, the

Superintendent, who is theoretically his preceptor, will have the

hsiu-ts'ai beaten on the hands, and probably double the amount of the

assessment. If any of the graduates in a district are accused of a crime,

they are reported to the District Magistrate, who turns them over to the

Superintendent of Instruction, for an inquiry. The Superintendent and the

Magistrate together, could secure the disgrace of a graduate, as already

explained.

The Government desires to encourage learning as much as possible, and to

this end there are in many cities, what may be termed Government

high-schools or colleges, where preceptors of special ability are

appointed to explain the Classics, and to hold frequent examinations,

similar to those in the regular course, as described. The funds for the

support of such institutions, are sometimes derived from the voluntary

subscriptions of wealthy persons, who have been rewarded by the gift of an

honourary title, or perhaps from a tax on a cattle fair, etc. Where the

arrangement is carried out in good faith, it has worked well, but in two

districts known to the writer, the whole plan has been brought into

discredit of late years, on account of the promotion to office of District

Magistrates who have bought their way upward, and who have no learning of

their own. In such cases, the management of the examination is probably

left to a Secretary, who disposes of it as quickly and with as little

trouble to himself as possible. The themes for the essays are given out,

and prizes promised for the best, but instead of remaining to superintend

the competition, the Secretary goes about his business, leaving the

scholars who wish to compete to go to their homes, and write their essays

there, or to have others do it for them, as they prefer. In some

instances, the same man registers under a variety of names, and writes

competitive essays for them all, or he perhaps writes his essays and sells

them to others, and when they are handed in, no questions are asked. It

would be easy to stop abuses of this sort, if it were the concern or the

interest of any one to do so, but it is not, and so they continue. A

school-teacher with whom the writer is acquainted, happening to have a

school near the district city, made it a constant practice for many years,

to attend examinations of this sort. He was examined about a hundred

times, and on four occasions received a prize, once a sum in money

equivalent to about seventy-five cents, and three other times a sum equal

to about half-a-dollar!

It is a constant wonder to Occidentals, by what motives the Chinese are

impelled, in their irrepressible thirst for literary degrees, even under

all the drawbacks and disadvantages, some of which have been described.

These motives, like all others in human experience are mixed, but at the

base of them all, is a desire for fame and for power. In China the power

is in the hands of the learned and of the rich. Wealth is harder to

acquire than learning, and incomparably more difficult to keep. The

immemorial traditions of the empire are all in favour of the man who is

willing to submit to the toils that he may win the rewards of the scholar.

Every village as already explained, has its headmen. Among them the

literary graduate, provided he is also a practical man, will inevitably

take the lead. He will often come into relations with the District

Magistrate, which makes him a marked man among his fellows. He will be

constantly called upon to assist in the settlement of disputes, and every

such occasion will afford opportunities for the privilege, so dear to the

Chinese, of enjoying a feast at the expense of his neighbours, besides

putting them under an obligation to him for his trouble. At the weddings

and funerals within the large circle of his acquaintance he will be a

frequent guest, and always in the place of honour due to his literary

degree. This is especially the case in funeral ceremonies of those who are

buried with the most elaborate ritual. On these occasions the ancestral

tablet of the deceased is to be written, and as an important part of the

exercises a red dot over one character signifying King is to be placed,

thus changing it into the symbol denoting Lord. It is not uncommon to have

the performances connected with such funerals extended over several days,

each furnishing three excellent feasts, as well as abundant supplies of

opium for those who wish to smoke. In a country like China the

participation in revels such as these approach more nearly to paradisaic

bliss than anything of which the Chinese mind can conceive. Every scholar

is desirous of getting into such relations with his environment that

honours of this sort come to him as a matter of course. If he happens to

be very poor, they furnish a not unimportant part of his support, as well

as of his happiness.

The village graduate who knows how to help in lawsuits by preparing

complaints, and by assisting in the intricate proceedings ensuing at each

stage is often able by means of the prestige thus gained, to get his

living at the expense of others more ignorant. No country offers a better

field for such an enterprise than China. Unbounded respect for learning

coexists with unbounded ignorance, and the experienced literary man knows

how to turn each of these elements to the very best account. In all lands

and in all ages, the man who is possessed with what is vulgarly termed the

"gift of the gab," is able to make his own way, and in China he carries

everything before him.

The range of territory which any aspirant for literary honours in China

must expect to traverse, is, as we have seen, continental. In order to

have any hope of success, he must be acquainted with every square inch of

it, and must be prepared to sink an artesian well from any given point to

any given depth. To the uneducated peasant, whose whole being is

impregnated with a blind respect for learning, amounting at times to a

kind of idolatry, such knowledge as this seems an almost supernatural

acquirement, and inspires all the reverence of which he is capable. The

thought of the estimate in which they will be held for the whole term of

their lives, is thus a powerful stimulus to scholars of ambition, even

under the greatest discouragements.

There could scarcely be a better exemplification of what the Chinese

saying calls "superiority to those below, and inferiority to those above,"

than the position of the hsiu-ts'ai. While he is looked upon by the vulgar

herd in the light we have described, by the educated classes above him he

is regarded, as we have so often termed him, as a schoolboy who is not yet

even in school. The popular dictum avers that though the whole body of

hsiu-ts'ai should attempt to start a rebellion, and should be left

undisturbed in the effort for three years, the result would be failure,

albeit this proverb finds no support in the history of the great

rebellion, which originated with a discontented undergraduate who was

exasperated at his repeated failures to get his talent recognized.

Literary examinations, as we have abundantly seen, are like the game of

backgammon, an equal mixture of skill and luck, but the young graduate

easily comes to regard the luck as due to the skill, and thus becomes

filled to the full of that intellectual pride which is one of the greatest

barriers to the national progress of China.

Differing by millenniums from the system just described is that recently

decreed after successful agitation by a few reformers. During the summer

of 1898 His Majesty Kuang HsA1/4, Emperor of China, issued several Edicts

which abolished the "eight-legged examination essay" as an avenue to the

attainment of literary degrees, and introduced in their place what was

termed Practical Chinese Literature, and Western Learning, which were to

be combined in Provincial and County Academies. Existing institutions

were to be remodelled after a more or less definite pattern set in Peking.

All except official temples (that is, those where offerings or services

were required from the Magistrates) were to be surrendered as seats of the

New Learning. Reports were demanded from Provincial Governors as to the

present status of these temples, and the future prospects for income from

them.

These Edicts potentially revolutionized the intellectual life of China.

They were received very differently in different parts of the empire, but

there is no reason to doubt that they would have been widely welcomed by

an influential minority of the literati of China, who had in various ways

come to realize the futility of the present instruction for the needs of

to-day. The immediate effect was to bring Western Learning into universal

demand. Scholars who had never deigned to recognize the existence of

foreigners, were now glad to become their pupils and purchasers of their

text-books on a large scale. For a few weeks examination themes were

strongly tinctured with Western topics, and those who were able to show

any familiarity with those branches of learning were almost sure of a

degree. Correct answers to simple mathematical, geographical, or

astronomical questions are said to have rendered success certain, and it

is even alleged that a candidate in one place took his honours by writing

out and commenting upon the Ten Commandments, which he represented as The

Western Code of Laws.

Toward the close of September, 1898, the Empress Dowager seized the reins,

suppressed her nephew, and nearly all reforms, educational and political,

were extinguished. A new Imperial University in Peking survived the storm,

but almost all of the extended and beneficent program of His Majesty was

relegated to the Greek Kalends. It is only a question of time when the

pendulum shall swing back, but every well-wisher of China hopes that it

may not be delayed until the national existence of the Chinese shall have

been lost.

XI

VILLAGE TEMPLES AND RELIGIOUS SOCIETIES

The process by which the inconceivably great numbers of Chinese temples

came to be is not without an interest of its own. When a few individuals

wish to build a temple, they call the headmen of the village, in whose

charge by long custom are all the public matters of the town, and the

enterprise is put in their care. It is usual to make an assessment on the

land for funds; this is not necessarily a fixed sum for each acre, but is

more likely to be graded according to the amount of land each owns, the

poor being perhaps altogether exempt, or very lightly taxed, and the rich

paying much more heavily. When the money is all collected by the managers,

the building begins under their direction. If the temple is to be a large

one, costing several hundred tA|ls, in addition to this preliminary tax, a

subscription book is opened, and sent to all the neighbouring villages,

and sometimes to all within a wide radius, the begging being often done by

some priest of persuasive powers, dragging a chain, or having his cheeks

pierced with spikes, or in some way bearing the appearance of fulfilling a

vow. The only motive to these outside contributions is the strong impetus

to the "practice of virtue," which exists among the Chinese, and which can

be played upon to almost any extent. Lists of contributions are kept in

the larger temples, and the donors are expected to receive the worth of

their money, through seeing their names posted in a conspicuous place, as

subscribers of a certain sum. In some regions it is customary to set down

the amount given as much larger than it really is, by a fiction equally

agreeable to all concerned. Thus the donor of 250 cash sees his name

paraded as the subscriber of 1,000 cash, and so throughout. These

subscriptions to temples are in reality a loan to be repaid whenever the

village subscribing finds itself in need of similar help, and the

obligation will not be forgotten by the donors.

It is seldom safe to generalize in regard to anything in China, but if

there is one thing in regard to which a generalization would seem to be

more safe than another, it would be the universality of temples in every

village throughout the empire. Yet it is an undoubted fact that there are,

even in China, great numbers of villages which have no temple at all. This

is true of all those which are inhabited exclusively by Mohammedans, who

never take any part in the construction of such edifices, a peculiarity

which is now well known and respected though at the first appearance of

these strangers, it caused them many bitter struggles to establish their

right to a monotheistic faith.

The most ordinary explanation of a comparatively rare phenomenon of a

village without a temple, is that the hamlet is a small one and cannot

afford the expense. Sometimes it may have been due to the fact that there

was no person of sufficient intelligence in the village to take the

initial steps, and as one generation is much influenced by what was done

and what was not done in the generations that have passed, five hundred

years may elapse without the building of a temple, simply because a temple

was not built five hundred years ago. In the very unusual cases where a

village is without one, it is not because they have no use for the gods;

for in such instances the villagers frequently go to the temples of the

next village and "borrow their light," just as a poor peasant who cannot

afford to keep an animal to do his plowing may get the loan of a donkey in

planting time, from a neighbour who is better off.

The two temples which are most likely to be found, though all others be

wanting, are those of the local god, and of the god of war. The latter has

been made much of by the present dynasty, and greatly promoted in the

pantheon. The former is regarded as a kind of constable in the next world,

and he is to be informed promptly on the death of an adult, that he may

report to the city god ("Ch'AȘng Huang,") who in turn reports to Yen Wang,

the Chinese Pluto.

In case a village has no temple to the T'u-ti, or local god, news of the

death is conveyed to him by wailing at the crossing of two streets, where

he is supposed to be in ambush.

Tens of thousands of villages are content with these two temples, which

are regarded as almost indispensable. If the village is a large one,

divided into several sections transacting their public business

independently of one another, there may be several temples to the same

divinity. It is a common saying, illustrative of Chinese notions on this

topic, that the local god at one end of the village has nothing to do with

the affairs of the other end of the village.

When the temple has been built, if the managers have been prudent, they

are not unlikely to have collected much more than they will use in the

building. This surplus is used partly in giving a theatrical exhibition,

to which all donors are invited--which is the only public way in which

their virtue can be acknowledged--but mainly in the purchase of land, the

income of which shall support the temple priest. In this way, a temple

once built is in a manner endowed, and becomes self-supporting. The

managers select some one of the donors, and appoint him a sort of

president of the board of trustees, (called a _shan chu_, or "master of

virtue"), and he is the person with whom the managers take account for the

rent and use of the land. Sometimes a public school is supported from the

income of the land, and sometimes this income is all gambled away by

vicious priests, who have devices of their own to get control of the

property to the exclusion of the villagers. When temples get out of

repair, which, owing to their defective construction, is constantly the

case, they must be rebuilt by a process similar to that by which they were

originally constructed; for in China there are as truly successive crops

of temples as of turnips.

There is no limit to the number of temples which a single village may be

persuaded into building. Some villages of three hundred families have one

to every ten families, but this must be an exceptional ratio. It is a

common saying among the Chinese that the more temples a village has, the

poorer it is, and also the worse its morals. But, on the other hand, the

writer has heard of one village which has none at all, but which has

acquired the nickname of "Ma Family Thief Village." It seems reasonable to

infer from the observed facts that, when they have fallen into comparative

desuetude, temples are almost inert, so far as influence goes. But when

filled with indolent and vicious priests, as is too often the case, they

are baneful to the morals of any community. In the rural districts, it is

comparatively rare to find resident priests, for the reason that they

cannot live from the scanty revenue, and a year of famine will starve them

out of large districts.

Temples that are a little distance from a village are a favourite resort

of thieves, as a convenient place to divide their booty, and also are

resting-places for beggars. To prevent this misuse, it is common to see

the door entirely bricked up, or perhaps a small opening may be left for

the divinity to breathe through!

The erection of a temple is but the beginning of an interminable series of

expenses; for, if there is a priest, he must be paid for each separate

service rendered, and will besides demand a tax in grain of every villager

after the wheat and autumn harvests--exactions which often become

burdensome in the extreme. In addition to this, minor repairs keep up an

unceasing flow of money. If there is an annual chanting of sacred books

(called _ta chiao_), this is also a heavy expense.

Temples which are not much used are convenient receptacles for coffins,

which have been prepared in the Chinese style before they are needed, and

also for the images of animals, made of reeds and paper, which are

designed to be burnt at funerals that they may be thus transported to the

spirit world. If the temple has a farm attached, the divinities are quite

likely to be obscured, in the autumn, by the crops which are hung up to

dry all about and even over them; for storage space under a roof is one of

the commodities most rare in the village.

The temples most popular in one region may be precisely those which are

rarely seen in another, but next to those already named perhaps the most

frequently honoured divinities are the Goddess of Mercy (_Kuan Yin P'u

Sa_), some variety of the manifold goddess known as "Mother" (_Niang

Niang_), and Buddha. What is called the "Hall of the Three Religions"

(_San Chiao T'ang_), is one of the instructive relics of a time when the

common proposition that the "three religions are really one" was not so

implicitly received as now. In the Hall of the Three Religions, Confucius,

Lao-tzA- (the founder of Taoism, or Rationalism), and Buddha, all stand

together on one platform; but Buddha, the foreigner, is generally placed

in the middle as the post of honour, showing that even to the Chinese the

native forms of faith have seemed to be lacking in something which

Buddhism attempts to supply. This place has not been obtained, however,

without a long struggle.

Another form of genial compromise of rival claims, is what is called "The

Temple of All the gods" (_Ch'A1/4an shAȘn miao_), in which a great variety of

deities are represented on a wall, but with no clear precedence of honour.

Temples to the god of Literature, (_WAȘn Ch'ang_), are built by

subscriptions of the local scholars, or by taxes imposed by the District

Magistrate. It is impossible to arrive at any exact conclusions on the

subject, but it is probable that the actual cost of the temples, in almost

any region in China, would be found to form a heavy percentage of the

income of the people in the district.

[Illustration: THE WORLD'S OLDEST SACRED MOUNTAIN, T'AI SHAN.]

[Illustration: SCENERY ALONG THE RIVER LIN.]

XII

COA-PERATION IN RELIGIOUS OBSERVANCES

The genius of the Chinese for combination is nowhere more conspicuous than

in their societies which have a religious object. Widely as they differ in

the special purposes to which they are devoted, they all appear to share

certain characteristics, which are generally four in number--the

contribution of small sums at definite intervals by many persons; the

superintendence of the finances by a very small number of the

contributors; the loan of the contributions at a high rate of interest,

which is again perpetually loaned and re-loaned so as to accumulate

compound interest in a short time and in large amounts; and lastly, the

employment of the accumulations in the religious observance for which the

society was instituted, accompanied by a certain amount of feasting

participated in by the contributors.

A typical example of the numerous societies organized for religious

purposes may be found in one of those which have for their object a

pilgrimage to some of the five sacred mountains of China. The most famous

and most frequented of them all is the Great Mountain (T'ai Shan) in

Shan-tung, which in the second month of the Chinese year is crowded with

pilgrims from distant parts of the empire. For those who live at any

considerable distance from this seat of worship, which according to Dr.

Williamson is the most ancient historical mountain in the world, the

expense of travel to visit the place is an obstacle of a serious

character. To surmount this difficulty, societies are organized which levy

a tax upon each member, of (say) one hundred cash a month. If there are

fifty members this would result in the collection of 5,000 cash as a first

payment. The managers who have organized the society, proceed to loan

this amount to some one who is willing to pay for its use not less than

two or three per cent. a month. Such loans are generally for short

periods, and to those who are in the pressing need of financial help. When

the time has expired, and principal and interest is collected, it is again

loaned out, thus securing a very rapid accumulation of capital. Successive

loans at a high rate of interest for short periods, are repeatedly

effected during the three years, which are generally the limit of the

period of accumulation. It constantly happens that those who have in

extreme distress borrowed such funds, find themselves unable to repay the

loan when it is called in, and as benevolence to the unfortunate forms no

part of the "virtue practice" of those who organize these societies, the

defaulters are then obliged to pull down their houses or to sell part of

their farms to satisfy the claims of the "Mountain Society." Even thus it

is not always easy to raise the sum required, and in cases of this sort,

the unfortunate debtor may even be driven to commit suicide.

"Mountain Societies" are of two sorts, the "Travelling," (_hsing-shan

hui_), and the "Stationary," (_tso-shan hui_). The former lays plans for a

visit to the sacred mountain, and for the offering of a certain amount of

worship at the various temples there to be found. The latter is a device

for accomplishing the principal results of the society, without the

trouble and expense of an actual visit to a distant and more or less

inaccessible mountain peak. The recent repeated outbreaks of the Yellow

River which must be crossed by many of the pilgrims to the Great Mountain,

have tended greatly to diminish the number of "Travelling Societies," and

to increase the number of the stationary variety.

When the three years of accumulation have expired, the managers call in

all the money, and give notice to the members who hold a feast. It is then

determined at what date a theatrical exhibition shall be given, which is

paid for by the accumulation of the assessments and the interest. If the

members are natives of several different villages, a site may be chosen

for the theatricals convenient for them all, but without being actually in

any one of them. At other times the place is fixed by lot.

During the performance of the theatricals, generally three days or four,

the members of the society are present, and may be said to be their own

guests and their own hosts. For the essential part of the ceremony is the

eating, without which nothing in China can make the smallest progress. The

members frequently treat themselves to three excellent feasts each day,

and in the intervals of eating and witnessing theatricals, they find time

to do more or less worshipping of an image of the mountain goddess (_T'ai

Shan niang-niang_) at a paper "mountain," which by a simple fiction is

held to be, for all intents and purposes, the real Great Mountain. While

there does not appear to be any deeply-seated conviction that there is

greater merit in actually going to the real mountain than in worshipping

at its paper representative at home, this almost inevitable feeling

certainly does exist, and it expresses itself forcibly in nicknaming the

stationary kind "squatting and fattening societies" (_tun-piao hui_). But

while the Chinese are keenly alive to the inconsistencies and absurdities

of their practices and professions, they are still more sensible of the

delights of compliance with such customs as they happen to possess,

without a too close scrutiny of "severe realities." The religious

societies of the Chinese, faulty as they are from whatever point of view,

do at least satisfy many social instincts of the people, and are the media

by which an inconceivable amount of wealth is annually much worse than

wasted. It is a notorious fact, that some of those which have the largest

revenues and expenditures, are intimately connected with gambling

practices.

Many large fairs, especially those held in the spring, which is a time of

comparative leisure, are attended by thousands of persons whose real

motive is to gamble with a freedom and on a scale impossible at home. In

some towns where such fairs are held, the principal income of the

inhabitants is derived from the rent of their houses to those who attend

the fair, and no rents are so large as those received from persons whose

occupation is mainly gambling. These are not necessarily professional

gamblers, however, but simply country people who embrace this special

opportunity to indulge their taste for risking their hard-earned money. In

all such cases it is necessary to spend a certain sum upon the underlings

of the nearest yamAȘn, in order to secure immunity from arrest, but the

profits to the keeper of the establishment (who generally does not gamble

himself) are so great, that he can well afford all it costs. It is

probably a safe estimate that as much money changes hands at some of the

large fairs in the payment of gambling debts, as in the course of all the

ordinary business arising from the trade with the tens of thousands of

customers. In many places both men and women meet in the same apartments

to gamble (a thing which would scarcely ever be tolerated at other times),

and the passion is so consuming that even the clothes of the players are

staked, the women making their appearance clad in several sets of trousers

for this express purpose!

The routine acts of devotion to whatever god or goddess may be the object

of worship are hurried through with, and both men and women spend the rest

of their time struggling to conquer fate at the gaming-table. It is not

without a certain propriety, therefore, that such fairs are styled

"gambling fairs."

The "travelling" like the "sitting" society gathers in its money at the

end of three years, and those who can arrange to do so, accompany the

expedition which sets out soon after New Year for the Great Mountain. The

expenses at the inns, as well as those of the carts employed, are defrayed

from the common fund, but whatever purchases each member wishes to make

must be paid for with his own money. On reaching their destination,

another in the long series of feasts is held, an immense quantity of mock

money is purchased and sent on in advance of the party, who are sure to

find the six hundred steps of the sacred mount, (popularly supposed to be

"forty _li_" from the base to the summit), a weariness to the flesh. At

whatever point the mock money is burnt, a flag is raised to denote that

this end has been accomplished. By the time the party of pilgrims have

reached this spot, they are informed that the paper has already been

consumed long ago, the wily priests taking care that much the larger

portion is not wasted by being burnt, but only laid aside to be sold again

to other confiding pilgrims.

If any contributor to the travelling society, or to any other of a like

nature, should be unable to attend the procession to the mountain, or to

go to the temple where worship is to be offered, his contribution is

returned to him intact, but the interest he is supposed to devote to the

virtuous object of the society, for he never sees any of it.

The countless secret sects of China, are all of them examples of the

Chinese talent for coA¶peration in the alleged "practice of virtue." The

general plan of procedure does not differ externally from that of a

religious denomination in any Western land, except that there is an

element of cloudiness about the basis upon which the whole superstructure

rests, and great secrecy in the actual assembling at night. Masters and

pupils, each in a graduated series, manuscript books containing doctrines,

hymns which are recited or even composed to order, prayers, offerings, and

ascetic observances are traits which many of these sects share in common

with other forms of religion elsewhere. They have also definite

assessments upon the members at fixed times without which, for lack of a

motive power, no such society would long hold together.

XIII

COA-PERATION IN MARKETS AND FAIRS

In many parts of China the farmer comes much nearer to independence as

regards producing what he needs, than any class of persons in Western

lands. This is especially the case where cotton is raised, and where each

family tries to make its own clothing from its own crops. But even with

the minute and indefatigable industry of the Chinese, this ideal can be

only imperfectly reached. No poor family has land enough to raise all that

it requires, and every family not poor has a multitude of wants which must

of necessity be supplied from without. Besides this, in any district most

families have very little reserve capital, and must depend upon meeting

their wants as they arise, by the use of such means as can be secured from

day to day. The same comparative poverty makes it necessary for a

considerable part of the population to dispose of some portion of its

surplus products at frequent intervals, so as to turn it into the means of

subsistence. The combined effect of these various causes is to make the

Chinese dependent upon local markets to an extent which is not true of

inhabitants of Occidental countries.

The establishment of any market, and even the mere existence of the class

of buyers and of sellers, doubtless involves a certain amount of

coA¶peration. But Chinese markets while not differing materially from those

to be found in other lands, exhibit a higher degree of coA¶peration than

any others of which we know. This coA¶peration is exhibited in the

selection both of the places and of the times at which the markets shall

be held. The density of population varies greatly in different provinces,

but there are vast tracts in which villages are to be met at distances

varying from a quarter of a mile to two or three miles, and many of these

villages contain hundreds, and some of them thousands of families.

At intervals of varying frequency, we hear of towns of still larger size

than these called _chAȘn-tien_, or market towns, and in them there is sure

to be a regular fair. But fairs are not confined to the _chAȘn-tien_, or

the needs of the people would by no means be met. Many of the inferior

villages also have a regular market, frequented by the neighbouring

population, in a circle of greater or smaller radius according to

circumstances. As a rule a village seems to be proud of its fair, and the

natives of such a place are no doubt saved a vast amount of travel for the

number of people who do not attend a fair is small.

We have met with one case of a village which once had a market, and gave

it up in favour of another village, for the reason that the collection of

such a miscellaneous assemblage was not for the advantage of the children

and youth.

The market is under the supervision of headmen of the town, and some

markets are called "official," because the headmen have communicated with

the local magistrate, and have secured the issuing of a proclamation

fixing the regulations under which business shall be transacted. This

makes it easier to get redress for wrongs which may be committed by bad

characters who abound at village markets in the direct ratio of the number

of people assembled. Many of the larger markets bring together several

thousand people, sometimes exceeding ten thousand in number, and among so

many there are certain to be numerous gamblers, sharpers, thieves, and

pick-pockets, against whom it behoves every one to be upon his guard. It

occasionally happens that a feud arises between two sets of villages, as

for example over an embankment which one of them makes to restrain the

summer floods, which would thus be turned toward the territory of the

other villages. In such cases it is not uncommon for the parties to the

quarrel to refuse to attend each other's markets, and in that case new

ones will be set up, with no reference to the needs of the territory, but

with the sole purpose of breaking off all relations between neighbours.

In regions where animals are employed for farm-work, all the larger

markets have attached to them "live-stock fairs," at which multitudes of

beasts are constantly changing hands. It is common to find these

live-stock fairs under a sort of official patronage, according to which

the managers are allowed to levy a tax of perhaps one per cent. on the

sales. Of this sum perhaps ten per cent. is required by the local

Commissioner of Education (_hsiao-li_) for the purpose of supporting his

establishment. The rest will be under the control of the village headmen,

perhaps for the nominal purpose of paying the expenses of a free school,

the funds for which not improbably find their way largely or wholly into

the private treasuries of those who manage the public affairs of the

village.

The times at which village markets are held vary greatly. In large cities

there is a market every day, but in country places this would involve a

waste of time. Sometimes the market takes place every other day, and

sometimes on every day the numeral of which is a multiple of three. A more

common arrangement however seems to be that which is based upon the

division of the lunar month into thirty days. In this case "one market"

signifies the space of five days, or the interval between two successive

markets. It is in the establishment of these markets that coA¶peration is

best illustrated. If a market is held every five days, it will occur six

times every moon, for if the month happens to be a "small" one of

twenty-nine days, the market that belongs on the thirtieth is held on the

following day, which is the first of the next month. The various markets

will be designated by the days on which they occur, as "One-Six," meaning

the market which is held every first, sixth, eleventh, sixteenth,

twenty-first, and twenty-sixth day of the moon. In like manner

"Four-Nine," denotes the market attended on the fourth, ninth,

fourteenth, nineteenth, twenty-fourth, twenty-ninth days, similarly

with the rest. Every village will probably have a market within reach

every day in the month, that is to say, every day in the year. In one

direction for example is to be found a "One-Six" market, in another

"Two-Seven," in still others a "Three-Eight," a "Four-Nine," and a

"Five-Ten." Some of these will be small markets, and some much larger, but

the largest one will be attended by customers, especially wholesale

dealers in cotton, cloth, etc., from great distances. The Chinese make

nothing of walking to a market three, eight, or even ten miles away; for

it is not a market only, but a kind of general exchange, where it is

proverbially likely that any one will meet any one else.

[Illustration: GOING TO MARKET.]

[Illustration: CHINESE MARKET SCENE.]

Every village being thus surrounded with a ring of markets, each of these

is also a cog in a wheel, playing into other wheels on each side of it.

All those who attend a large market come to have a wide acquaintance with

persons for great distances on each side of them, and the needs of all

persons both buyers and sellers are adequately met.

The word which we have translated "market" (_chi_) denotes merely a

gathering, and another character, (_hui_) is reserved for an assemblage of

a much larger character, which is properly a fair. The number of persons

who attend these fairs frequently rises to between ten and twenty

thousand, giving a stranger the impression that the entire population of

several counties must have been turned loose at once. Fairs are to be

found in the largest Chinese cities, as well as in towns of every grade

down even to small hamlets, though the proportion of towns and villages

which support a fair is always a small one. It appears to be a general

truth that by far the larger part of these large fairs owe their existence

to the managers of some temple. The end in view is the accumulation of a

revenue for the use of the temple, which is accomplished by levying

certain taxes upon the traffic, and by the collection of a ground-rent.

The latter is also a feature of the village market, the proprietor of

each bit of ground appearing at each market to collect of the persons who

have occupied his land, either a fixed amount, or a percentage upon their

sale or supposed sales.

In the larger centres of population, it is common to find fairs held for a

month or more at a time, and in some places there are several of these

fairs every year, forming the centres of activity around which all the

life of the place revolves. In such places the inhabitants make a good

profit by renting buildings to the multitudes who come from a distance to

sell and to buy, and where this is the case, when the fair is not in

operation the city frequently appears to be nearly extinct. But trade no

sooner begins, than countless thousands throng the lately almost deserted

streets.

In order to make a fair a success, it is necessary that the managers

should be men of enterprise and of sufficient business ability to deal

with the many difficulties which are likely to arise. They exercise a

certain supervision over everything, and are technically responsible for

what goes wrong, though this responsibility they frequently evade. In

order to attract a large attendance, it is generally necessary for fairs

which are to last four days, to begin with a theatrical representation,

which continues till the close. Sometimes, however, the players fail to

appear, and in that case the whole fair may come to nothing. These large

fairs are attended by merchants representing cities many hundred miles

distant, and dealing in every article which is likely to attract

customers.

As the means of transportation are very inadequate and locomotion is

always slow and difficult, the merchants who go about from one fair to

another for many months of the year, lead a life, or rather an existence,

which is far from enviable. The half-month holiday with which the Chinese

year begins is no sooner over than the large fairs begin also, and they

continue with intermissions throughout the rest of the year. There is a

brief interval for the wheat harvest, an event of the greatest importance

to every class of the population, and the rainy season generally causes

another interruption, often so serious a one as to upset all plans for two

months or more.

The principal coA¶perative element in fairs lies in so arranging them as to

dovetail into one another with least loss of time to the travelling

merchants. The success generally attained is offset by many conspicuous

failures, due to the Chinese thirst for gaining advantage over rivals,

irrespective of the interests of others, which in matters involving

coA¶peration, often results in disappointment. Thus, it is not uncommon to

find that while the posters announcing a fair have been put up all through

the country-side for an entire month, no one can tell when it is really to

begin. That the day for beginning is "fixed" is a point of no consequence

whatever, for with the exception of eclipses nothing in China is so

"fixed" that it is not subject to alteration, and this exception may be

thought to be due to the circumstance that eclipses are not under the

supervision of the Chinese. We have known repeated instances in which

persons who wished to attend a large fair, the date of which has been

"fixed" for generations, have travelled many miles at great inconvenience,

once and again, only to find that it was delayed owing to the fact that

nobody had come, every one being apparently engaged in waiting for every

one else. But infelicities like this are universal and constant in China,

where punctuality is "a lost art."

XIV

COA-PERATIVE LOAN SOCIETIES

Among the most characteristic examples of Chinese capacity for

combination, are Loan Societies, which seem everywhere to abound. The

object of these organizations is the same as that of similar associations

elsewhere, but it may be doubted whether the Chinese methods of procedure

are not unique. As in everything else Chinese, with a general similarity,

there is such divergence in detail, that it is sometimes very difficult

for natives of one district, even to comprehend the rules of the Loan

Societies of other and perhaps adjoining counties.

The reasons for the extensive organization of these societies, are those

to which attention has been repeatedly called. Every Chinese has constant

occasion to use money in sums which it is very difficult for him to

command. The rate of interest is always so high, that a man who is

compelled to borrow a considerable amount, upon which he must pay interest

at two and a half, three, or even four per cent. a month, will not

improbably be swamped by the endeavour to keep up with his creditors, a

fact of which everyday experience furnishes countless examples. By

distributing the payments over a long period, and by the introduction of

an element of friendship into a merely commercial transaction, the Chinese

is able to achieve the happy result of uniting business with pleasure. Of

the measure of success attained we may be better able to judge, after an

examination of the processes pursued.

The simplest of the many plans by which mutual loans are effected, is the

contribution of a definite sum by each of the members of the society in

rotation to some other one of their number. When all the rest have paid

their assessment to the last man on the list, each one will have received

back all that he put in and no more. The association is called in some

places the "Club of the Seven Worthies" (_Ch'i hsien hui_). The technical

name for any association of the kind in which coA¶peration is most

conspicuous, is _ShAȘ_. The man who is in need of money (_ShAȘ-chu_) invites

certain of his friends to coA¶perate with him, and in turn to invite some

of their friends to do the same. When the requisite number has been

secured, the members (_ShAȘ-yu_), assemble and fix the order in which each

shall have the use of the common fund. This would probably be decided by

lot. Unless the amount in question is a very trifling one, every meeting

of the members for business purposes will be accompanied with a feast

attended by all the partners, and paid for either by the one for whose

benefit the association was organized, or by the person whose turn it is

to use the common fund.

At the first feast, given by the organizer of the association, each of the

members attends provided with the sum agreed upon, let us suppose 10,000

cash, which is paid over to the headman, 60,000 cash in all, to be used by

him, for a certain fixed period, say a year. The next year, the feast is

given by the person who drew the second lot; the headman puts 10,000 cash

into the treasury, and each of five other members the same sum, all of

which is paid over to number three, who in like manner employs it for a

year, when in the same way the fourth takes his turn. At the end of six

years each of the seven members will have had a turn, each will have

received 60,000 cash without interest, and each will have paid out 60,000

cash for which he has likewise received no interest. Each one will have

been accommodated with the handling of a larger sum than he could have

otherwise obtained, at the end each one has lost nothing in money, but has

had six more or less excellent feasts, a matter from a Chinese point of

view of some practical importance, however lightly it might be esteemed by

a Westerner.

It would seem that the simple form of coA¶perative borrowing here

described, is by no means so common as some of the various societies in

which interest is paid, and it is not perhaps surprising that this should

be the case. The Chinese are so much in the habit of paying an

extortionate sum for the use of the money of others, that it doubtless

appears to the average borrower that if he has exacted a high interest, he

has made a better bargain than if he had received no interest at all,

although he must eventually pay out just as much interest as he receives,

and is demonstrably no better off at the final payment than if he had

borrowed and lent, disregarding interest altogether.

The methods of societies which exact interest for loans, differ greatly in

every detail, and there is evidently no limit to the variations which

local custom may adopt in any particular district. In some regions the

ordinary number of members appears to be sixteen as in the case just

supposed. In others, the number rises to thirty or even more. Sometimes

the meetings are held annually, in other districts the usual rule is

semiannual meetings, in the second and eighth moons. In societies where

the rate of interest is fixed, the only thing to be decided by lot, or by

throwing dice, will be the order in which the members draw out the common

fund. This may not improbably be determined at the first meeting, each

member taking his turn in accordance with the excellence or otherwise of

his throws with the dice. But if, as often happens, the interest is left

open to competition, this competition may take place by a kind of auction,

each one announcing orally what he is willing to pay for the use of the

capital for one term, the highest bidder taking the precedence, but no

member ever has a second turn. If the oral method of competition is not

used, a still better plan may be adopted. This consists of prepared slips,

like ballots, noting an offer of interest, deposited by each member in a

box, the highest bidder getting the precedence, and in case of like

amounts offered by different bidders a second ballot to decide who will

add the most to his previous offer. It is easy to see that in this way,

the interest to be paid might not be the same for any two loans, in which

case there would seem to be inevitable some complexity in the accounts.

But for the most part, the Chinese appear to take involved computations of

this nature with surprising facility, especially considering the limited

practice in mathematics which most of them have enjoyed.

For the sake of greater simplicity, we will take a case in which the

interest for each period is assumed to be one-fifth of the principal, in

which the number of members is ten, besides the organizer of the society,

and in which the amount loaned by each member is 10,000 cash. It is also

assumed that in this case the headman for whose benefit the lending was

begun, does not repay the loan in money, but only in spreading at each

meeting a feast of specially good quality. The interest is of the nature

of a "bank discount," and is therefore collected in advance, the only

certain way, it may be remarked, to collect it at all. Each man, it will

be observed, with the exception of the first, actually receives only 8,000

cash, but repays to each one who follows him in drawing, a full 10,000.

The result will be best seen in a tabulated form, as follows:

(The headman makes the feast only, but does not repay the loan.)

The headman receives from each member 10,000 cash (ten strings) 10 X 10 =

100.

Number 2 receives 9 X 8 = ... 72

" 3 " 8 X 8 = 64 + 10 = 74

" 4 " 7 X 8 = 56 + 20 = 76

" 5 " 6 X 8 = 48 + 30 = 78

" 6 " 5 X 8 = 40 + 40 = 70

" 7 " 4 X 8 = 32 + 50 = 82

" 8 " 3 X 8 = 24 + 60 = 84

" 9 " 2 X 8 = 16 + 70 = 86

" 10 " 1 X 8 = 8 + 80 = 88

" 11 " 9 X 10 = ... 90

In the following modification of the plan of loan, the headman pays back

his loan, like the other members, and also provides each feast, which is

regarded as his interest.

Headman receives 10 X 10 strings = 100

Number 2 " 9 X 8 = 72 + 10 = 82

" 3 " 8 X 8 = 64 + 20 = 84

" 4 " 7 X 8 = 56 + 30 = 86

" 5 " 6 X 8 = 48 + 40 = 88

" 6 " 5 X 8 = 40 + 50 = 90

" 7 " 4 X 8 = 32 + 60 = 92

" 8 " 3 X 8 = 24 + 70 = 94

" 9 " 2 X 8 = 16 + 80 = 96

" 10 " 1 X 8 = 8 + 90 = 98

" 11 " 10 X 10 = 100

In these examples it will be observed that the earlier each member draws

his money, the less he gets on his investment. In the case last supposed,

the final recipient, who has no interest to pay, but who receives interest

from all but the headman, gets back all his money in a lump, with interest

upon it. As already remarked, for the sake of simplicity we have

disregarded the actual time for which the money is loaned, and for

convenience have assumed a rate of interest which would probably be below

the real one. It is evident that so far as financial considerations go,

taken by themselves, it is for the advantage of the partners to come as

late in the drawing as possible. But it is far from being the case that

financial considerations are the only matters to be taken into account.

The man who needs money, and who can never be sure of getting as much as

he needs upon any better terms than these, will gladly take it as soon as

he can get it, arranging the wedding for which he perhaps wishes to employ

it, to suit the time of the loan.

Like other human contrivances, Chinese loan societies are to be judged by

their results. The practical operation of these organizations often

presents an instructive view of many aspects of Chinese life. The man for

whose benefit the society is got together does not find that others are

hungering and thirsting to do him a good turn, unless they clearly see

their way to recover what they put in, with liberal interest. It is

therefore often necessary to use a great deal of persuasion, to induce one

to join, and especially to persuade him to bring in others. No one is

willing to enter into a society of this kind unless it is reasonably

certain that every member will meet every assessment, for if any

individual fails to pay, everything is at a deadlock. To guard against

this, it is customary to have security, or bondsmen, in some instances the

headman acting as bail for all the rest. In case of failure on the part of

any member to meet his payment, the headman is then required to pay the

amount lacking, and this he is of course very unwilling to do, however

freely he has engaged to do so. Troubles of this nature lead to many

fights, and if this extreme measure is not resorted to, it is not at all

unlikely that the person technically responsible will try the familiar

method of begging off, striving to induce a creditor to accept a

_k'o-t'ou_ in place of cash. If sufficient pressure can be brought to bear

in favour of any defaulting member, this plan may succeed in its object,

as well as in breaking up the loan society.

Where the number is enlarged to more than a score, as in some districts,

the probability that some one will fail to meet his obligations is greatly

increased. It is also a fatal objection to these long loans, that before

the whole term of years elapses, it is morally certain that something will

occur to disturb the very unstable financial equilibrium of the members.

For instance, the T'ai-p'ing rebellion, with its long train of sorrows,

and the continual famines and floods of later years in Northern China,

have tended to bring loan societies into discredit, because experience has

shown that thousands of persons have put into them what could never be

recovered. It is the almost unanimous testimony of the Chinese whom the

writer has consulted on the subject, that in these days such societies

fail to accomplish their uses, and are little better than a fraud.

Whether a man loses by them, or not, will depend, however, mainly on his

own skill in keeping out of those which are unsafe, regardless of the

pressure which may be brought to bear upon him. Some men will tell you

that they have been partners several times and have never lost their

capital, or only lost it once, while others have a totally different

account to give.

A Chinese whose easy-going disposition made him a valuable neighbour to

those who wished to borrow without being at the inconvenience of repaying,

stated that he had been six times a member of a loan society, and while

once the capital had been doubled by a fortunate speculation, on each of

the five other occasions he had lost all, or nearly all, put in. That such

experiences are far from being uncommon, is testified by a current adage,

to the effect that if a man has been in a loan society with another three

separate times, if he has not been cheated, he has at least been robbed!

After the foregoing account of CoA¶perative Loan Societies was written, a

suit was reported in the Hong Kong papers, which well serves to illustrate

the legal difficulties which seem to puzzle not only the lawyers, but

apparently the Judges also, for the case which was first heard in July,

came on for another hearing upon appeal the next January, and was not

decided until the following March. There were four plaintiffs and four

defendants. It appeared that twelve men decided to form a Money Loan

Association, one of them being trustee, and taking up the subscriptions.

Each member undertook to pay $50 per month, by which a sum of $600 would

be made up. Each month the members were to meet at a dinner, paid for by

each of the members in turn, and at these dinners tenders were received

for the fund of $600, the member offering the highest interest getting the

"pool," less the amount of interest. After the association had run for

eight months, the headman or trustee failed in business, disappeared, and

the association came to an end.

The four persons who had paid money into the association for eight

months, and who had received no benefit, sued the other four members who

had ceased to pay their subscriptions after the failure in business of the

trustee. The defence was that the only person responsible was this

trustee, and that all the sums claimed had been paid to him by the

defendants. The Acting Chief Justice, who heard the case, was of the

opinion that the subscriptions not paid were due, and that the trustee had

no authority from the other members to receive beforehand any

contributions, and the Justice accordingly gave judgment for the

plaintiffs.

The case was appealed, and counsel stated upon its coming up that it was

appealed on a question of law. He related the circumstances of the case,

and maintained that there was no contract between either of the plaintiffs

and the four defendants jointly or severally, that they would pay a sum of

$200. The only contract proved and shown, was a contract that each of the

members would contribute to a common fund which he might not get in the

first instance, but which he was certain to get some time. He therefore

submitted that there was no contract at common law on which this action

could be maintained, and that there was absolutely no means of deciding

the issues in such a case.

To this statement, the opposing counsel replied by admitting that there

was a certain amount of difficulty in working out the scheme as a whole,

yet unless their Lordships held that these men were liable in this case,

the prosecutors were practically deprived of any remedy at all. He

submitted that this was against the whole intention of the association,

which was in a certain sense for profit, for the mutual help of its

members, and the common good of all. To hold that no action was

maintainable individually, would be holding out a premium for dishonesty,

because the man who got the first payment would then leave the Colony.

At this point the Justice remarked that this was what very often happened.

In delivering his opinion, the Justice said that he thought the case was

a claim for money lent, but it had been treated as a claim for the return

of $50 from each of the defendants in respect of a money loan association.

At the trial the defendants had denied that they had made any contract

with the plaintiffs, and referred to the fact that certain meetings of the

association had been held, and that the other meetings had not been

regularly called in accordance with the articles of association. That

being so, he held that there was no contract between the various members

of the association, which would enable one member to sue another, and

therefore he decided in favour of the appellants.

The Puisne Judge said that the contract entered into, was either one

between the defendants and one of the plaintiffs, or else it was a mutual

contract between the defendants, and the other members of the association.

In the first case the plaintiffs could not recover, and if it was a mutual

contract between all the members of the association, there ought to be a

suit in equity to ascertain what were the various rights of the parties,

and all the members of the association must be parties to that action. And

so he also gave judgment in favour of the appellants, with costs. The

money which had been paid into court, pending the appeal, would be paid

out.

Whoever takes the trouble to follow these arguments, and the facts upon

which they rest, ought to be convinced of several propositions: that it is

very easy to make arrangements to pay out money to Chinese; that it is

very easy not to get that money back again; that when there is a hitch in

the intricate business of adjustment, it is not unlikely to take all the

lawyers and Judges of a Crown Colony nine months to find out the law and

equity, and that when the case has been decided it is difficult for an

ordinary mortal to judge whether the decision was right or wrong!

XV

SOCIETIES FOR WATCHING THE CROPS

In a country where the poor are in such a majority as in China, and where

the fields are altogether open, it is desirable if not necessary to have

some plan by which property so unprotected can be effectively watched. In

every orchard, as soon as the fruit begins to show the smallest sign of

ripeness, the owner keeps some of his family on guard day and night, until

the last apricot, plum or pear is removed from the trees. The darker and

the more rainy the night, the more is vigilance required, so that a family

with a bearing orchard is under the most absolute bondage to this property

for a part of every year. During the months of July and August the fields

are dotted with little booths some of them overrun with climbing vines,

and each of these frail tenements is never for a moment deserted until the

crops have all been removed. In some regions the traveller will observe

these huts built upon a lofty staging so as to command a wide view, and

they are often put up even in fields of sorghum, which would not seem

likely to be stolen. But the lofty growth of this stalwart plant is itself

a perfect protection to a thief, so that it is much more difficult to

watch than crops far less elevated from the ground. Growing to an altitude

of from ten to fifteen feet, it completely obscures the horizon, and

practically obliterates all landmarks. So far as knowing where one goes, a

traveller might as well be plunged into an African jungle. Even the

natives of a region sometimes get lost within a few _li_ of their own

village on a cloudy day. The autumn crops of Shan-tung consist of the

innumerable kinds of millet, sorghum, (which, though called "tall millet,"

has no affinity with real millet;) beans; Indian corn, or maize; peanuts;

melons and squashes; sweet-potatoes and other vegetables (the others

mostly in small patches); hemp; sesame; and especially cotton. There are

many other items, but these are the chief.

Of all these diverse sorts of produce, there are hardly more than two

which do not cause the owners anxiety, lest they be stolen from the field.

The heads of sorghum and of millet are easily clipped off. Nothing is

easier than rapidly to despoil a field of corn, or to dig sweet-potatoes.

The latter, indeed, are not safe from the village dogs, which have learned

by ages of experience that raw vegetable food is much better than no food

at all. What requires the most unceasing vigilance, however, are the melon

patches and the orchards. Of watermelons, especially, the Chinese are

inordinately fond. Every field is fitted with a "lodge in a garden of

cucumbers," and there is some one watching day and night. The same is true

of the "fruit rows," familiarly called _hang-tzA1/4_. Birds, insects, and man

are the immitigable foes of him who has apples, pears, peaches, plums,

cherries, apricots and grapes. If the orchard is of any size, there may be

collusion between the thieves, who appear at both ends at once. Both sets

cannot be pursued. The crows and the blue-jays are the worst bird robbers,

but they can be scared off, especially with a gun. The human pilferers are

not to be so easily dealt with. The farmer's hope is that seeing that some

one is on guard they will go elsewhere, and steal from those not on guard.

_Hence everybody is obliged to stand guard over everything._

Where the population is densest, the extent to which this must be carried

passes belief. In such regions about dusk an exodus sets forth from a

village like that in the early morning to go to the fields to work. By

every path the men, women, and even children stream forth. Light wooden

beds, covered with a layer of the stiff sorghum stalk, are kept out in the

fields for constant use. A few sorghum stalks are twisted together at the

top, and a piece of old matting tacked on the sunny side, and under

such a wretched shelter sits a toothless old woman all day and all night

with alternations.

[Illustration: CROP-WATCHER'S LODGE.]

[Illustration: REAPING MILLET.]

Very few farmers have their land all in one plot. A farm of not more than

eighty Chinese acres may consist of from five to fifteen pieces lying on

different sides of the village. And how do you contrive to "watch all

these all night"? you inquire. "Oh we have to go from one to the other,"

you are told. In the case of cotton, the temptation to pick that of others

is absolutely irresistible. The watchman sees some one at the end of the

field meandering slowly along with a basket on his arm, picking cotton as

he goes. The watchman yells, "Who are you?" and the figure moves along a

little faster, but does not stop picking. If he disappears into the patch

of some one else, that is success. But should the watchman become angry,

as he certainly will, and should he pursue, as he is likely to do, and

should he overtake, as is possible, then the trouble begins. Should the

thief not get away in the scuffle, he ought to be taken before the village

headmen and dealt with. If from another village, he probably will be tied

up in the village temple, possibly beaten, and subsequently released upon

payment of a fine. But the real difficulty is that many of the thieves are

from the same village as the owners of the land the products of which they

are appropriating. Not improbably they are "cousins" of the farmer

himself. Perhaps they are his "uncles" or even his "grandfathers." If so,

that complicates matters very much. Chinese ideas of _meum_ and _tuum_ are

to our thought laxity itself under the most favourable conditions. But

these conditions are the most unfavourable. The unity of the family is as

that of a compound individual.

It is to afford some relief from these almost insupportable evils that

societies for watching the crops have originated. They are by no means of

universal occurrence, but like most other Chinese institutions, are to be

met with in some districts, while others immediately adjoining may be

wholly unacquainted with their working. We have known a District

Magistrate in trying a case in which one of the defendants was a

professional watcher of the crops, to be completely mystified by the term

"crop-watcher" which had to be explained to him, as if to a foreigner,

although he was himself a native of an adjacent province.

The villages which have entered into some one of the associations for the

protection of their crops, generally proclaim this fact by painting or

whitewashing upon the side of some conspicuous temple four characters

(_Kung k'an i p'o_,) signifying that the fields are looked after in

common. This proposition embodies a meaning which varies in different

places. Sometimes it denotes that a certain number of persons are on guard

each night, in which case the number (or some number which purports to be

the real one) will perhaps be found posted on a temple wall with a view to

striking awe into intending depredators (in case they should be persons of

education), by showing how numerous are the chances of detection.

When a fixed number of persons is employed, the expense is shared by the

village, being in fact a tax upon the land, paid in the direct ratio of

the amount of land which each one owns. In other cases the arrangement for

guarding standing crops is entered into by a single village, or more

probably by a considerable number of contiguous villages. The details are

agreed upon at a meeting called for the purpose in some temple convenient

to all the villages, and the meeting is attended by representatives of

each village interested. At this meeting are settled the steps to be taken

in case of the arrest of offenders. This is a matter of supreme

importance, being in fact the pivot upon which the whole machinery turns.

If there is weakness here, the whole machine will be a failure.

It must be borne in mind that the reason for the organization of such a

society as this is the fact that so many poor people everywhere exist,

whose only resource is to steal. In the consultations preliminary to the

organization of a crop-protecting league, the poor people of the various

villages concerned have no voice, but they must be considered, for they

will contrive to make themselves felt in many disagreeable ways. It will

be agreed that any person owning land in any village belonging to the

league is bound to seize and report any person whatever whom he may find

stealing the crops of any person in any of these villages. But as this is

the weakest point of all such agreements among the Chinese, it is further

provided that if any person finds some one stealing and fails to seize and

report the offender, and if the fact of this omission is ascertained, the

person guilty of such omission shall be held to be himself guilty of the

theft, and shall be fined as if he were the thief.

To provide an adequate tribunal to take cognizance of cases of this sort,

the representatives of the several villages concerned, in public assembly

nominate certain headmen from each village, who constitute a court before

which offenders are to be brought, and by which fines are to be fixed.

When a thief is captured he is brought to the village, and the men

appointed for the purpose are summoned, who hear the report of the

captors, and decide upon the fine. In cases of special importance the

village gong may be beaten, so as to collect the headmen with the greater

celerity. Much will depend upon what kind of a man the culprit is, and

upon the status of the family to which the culprit belongs may be. There

are some well-to-do people who are not above stealing the crops of others,

and such persons are certain to be subjected to a heavy fine by way of

"exemplary damages." The select-men who manage these cases have no regular

way of punishing offenders but by the infliction of a fine, though

culprits are undoubtedly sometimes tied up and beaten by exasperated

neighbours, as the writer at one time happened to see for himself. But

such cases must be relatively rare. The fines imposed must be paid

immediately, and should this be refused or delayed, the penalty would be

an accusation at the yamAȘn of the District Magistrate, which being backed

by all the principal men of the village, or of a group of villages, would

be certain to issue in the punishment of the prisoner, as the Magistrate

would be sure to assume that a prosecution of this nature was well

grounded. The poorest man would have reason to dread being locked up in a

cangue for a month or two at the busy time of harvest, when it is

especially important for him to be at liberty.

The coloured resident of Georgia who complained that a black man had no

chance in that State, being obliged "to work hard all day and steal all

night in order to make an honest living," represented a class to be found

in all parts of China, and a class which must be taken into account.

Wherever arrangements are made for the protection of the crops from

thieves, it is a necessary adjunct of the rules that the owners of the

fields must follow the judicious plan of Boaz of ancient Bethlehem, who

ordered his reapers not to be too careful to gather closely, that the

gleaners might not glean in vain. Matters of this sort, even to the length

of the stubble which shall be left in the fields, are not infrequently the

subject of agreement and of regulation, for they are matters of large

importance to many poor people.

In districts where the _kao-liang_ (or sorghum) plant is cultivated it is

common to strip off some of the lower leaves with a view, as one is told,

to allowing the stalks "to breathe" more freely that the grain may ripen

better. Where this practice prevails, the day on which the stripping of

the leaves shall begin is sometimes strictly regulated by agreement, and

no person, rich or poor, is allowed to anticipate the day. But on that day

any one is at liberty to strip leaves from the fields of any one else,

provided he does not go above the stipulated height on each plant. These

leaves are much prized as food for animals. The day before the stripping

of _kao-liang_ leaves is to begin, warning is sounded on the village gong,

and the next day all the people make this their main business.

Far more important than leaf-stripping is the regulation of the gleaning

of cotton. In many parts of China, the cotton crop is the most valuable

product of the soil, and it enjoys the distinction of being perhaps the

only article raised in the empire which is to every man, woman and child

an absolute necessity. As soon as the cotton-picking season sets in, women

and children in the regions where this is the staple crop are absorbed in

this fatiguing labour to the exclusion of almost everything else. With the

first frost falls, the best of the season has passed, though the cotton

balls continue to open for a long time afterward. It is considered to be

the prerogative of the poor people to pick cotton wherever they can find

it after a certain (or rather a very uncertain) date, and the

determination of this date is settled in some districts by a proclamation

of the Magistrate himself, for no lesser authority would be heeded. But in

other regions this affair, like most others, is altogether relegated to

local agreement, either of a single village, or a group of villages with

each other. The day upon which it first becomes lawful to pick

indiscriminately in any cotton field, a joyful one for the poor, is called

"relaxation of punishment," because the fines are no longer to be

enforced. At this time swarms of people are to be seen streaming to the

fields, and many people go great distances from home, because the picking

there is better. An acquaintance of the writer remarked that his wife had

been gone from home for more than ten days gleaning in some region where

the crops were better than nearer home, sleeping meantime in any doorway

or cart-house from which she was not driven away.

It sometimes happens that the rich people attempt to exclude the poor from

the large estates belonging to the former, but this is seldom successful,

and can never be good policy. The writer once saw a dispute between the

owner of a large cottonfield and many hundred poor women and children who

were about to precipitate themselves upon the remnants of the crop. Even

while the debate as to the proprieties of the case was in progress, a very

large number of the poor people who cared much more for the cotton than

for the proprieties, pressed on to gather what they might, leaving others

to settle the question of abstract right as pleased themselves.

Reference has been repeatedly made to the fines imposed for a violation of

the village laws or agreements, and it was remarked that the crucial point

of the protection of crops, is found here. It is customary to employ the

fines collected from such offenders for the purpose of hiring a theatrical

company, which always proves to be a very expensive method of enjoying a

surplus of money, since the incidental expenses of a theatrical

representation, especially in the entertainment of guests, are often ten

times greater than the sum paid to the players.

Spending the night in the fields during the harvest season, when the

ground is generally saturated with moisture, constantly induces malaria,

rheumatism and pneumonia, as well as many other ailments. But the

necessity is imperative, and all risks must be disregarded, or there would

be nothing to eat for a year. The quarrels which inevitably arise from

crop pilfering and the other concomitants of an autumn harvest, give rise

to serious feuds, as well as to devastating lawsuits, the money cost of

which may be a thousand times the value of the property in question. But

under such conditions every Chinese crop is gathered in year by year, and

such have apparently been perpetuated from the earliest dawn of Chinese

history.

XVI

VILLAGE AND CITY RAIN-MAKING

It is one of the eccentricities of the Chinese, that although they have

developed elaborate philosophies, none of them have led them to confidence

in the uniformity of nature. Polytheism has no basis for such a view. Thus

it comes about that in an empire which is one of the most conspicuous

examples of homogeneity the world has ever seen, neither the people nor

their rulers have any fixed opinions as to the causes upon which the

rain-fall depends. In the province of Shan-tung a great variety of beings

real and imaginary are worshipped to cause the fall of water to adjust

itself to the needs of the farmers. Among the divinities thus honoured are

the Goddess of Mercy who in the south of China is generally regarded as

male; the God of War; the Dragon God, or Lung Wang; and a Tai Wang, which

is popularly supposed to be incarnated in a serpent, frequently a

water-snake, but in default of that a common garter-snake will do just as

well. Whenever one of these Tai Wangs is discovered, it is common to

notify the nearest local official, and it is expected that he will go and

worship it. Many years ago Li Hung Chang performed this service at

Tientsin, where there is a very large temple to Tai Wang.

As if these incongruous adjuvants of nature were not enough, there are

some who worship YA1/4 Huang Shang Ti, or Pearly Emperor Supreme Ruler, and

still others think they have warrant in offering sacrifice and worship to

"Sun Ta ShAȘng," who is nothing more than an imaginary character in the

novel known as "Travels to the West." Sun was originally a monkey hatched

by a process of evolution out of a stone, but his exploits are so many and

so striking that the popular mind has settled on him as a suitable being

to superintend the rain-fall. Yet his worship is apparently limited, and

like that of all the divinities mentioned extremely irregular. The same

village that worships the God of War now, may worship the Goddess of Mercy

next time, perhaps on the principle of judicious rotation.

Besides all these, there is another and quite a different plan in

extensive use. In the ancient but now ruined city of Han Tan Hsien, (in

Western Chih-li) there is a temple on the premises of which there is a

famous well, in which are a vast number of iron tablets. Whenever there is

a scarcity of rain, it is almost always a last resort, after the District

Magistrate has made the rounds of all the temples in and about his city,

to post off an official messenger to Han Tan Hsien--a journey of several

days--to get an iron tablet out of the well. The messenger takes an iron

tablet from the city whence he starts on which is inscribed the date of

the journey, and the name of the District which makes the petition, and on

his arrival repairs to the Taoist temple, where for a certain sum he is

provided with another iron tablet taken from the well, into which the

tablet now brought is thrown.

On his return journey the messenger is supposed to eat nothing but bran,

and to travel at the top of his speed day and night. His arrival is

anxiously awaited. And now emerges a characteristic Chinese performance.

The counties through which his route lies are not unlikely just as much in

need of rain as the one which sends the messenger: the people of these

districts not infrequently waylay the messenger temporarily, and "borrow"

his tablet, which is thus "invited" to the other district, and the

rain-fall will take place there, instead of in the one to which it ought

to belong.

At first glance it certainly appears singular that so practical a people

as the Chinese can put the least faith in mummeries of this sort, but the

truth seems to be that very little actual faith is exercised, these

performances only taking place in default of an acquaintance with the

laws which govern the meteorology of the empire. Besides this, the months

in which the most resort is had to such performances are the fifth and the

sixth, and these are the ones in which the rain-fall is due. As a limit of

some ten days is generally set for the efficacy of these petitions, it is

extremely likely that the term will be coincident with a fall of rain,

which fall will be credited to the petition; whereas the failure of the

petition is set down to some wholly different reason.

An incident which occurred in one of the western counties of Shan-tung

makes plain even to the most obtuse Chinese intellect the inconveniences

of a wrong theory of the universe. A party of villagers with flags and a

drum were on their way to a temple to pray for rain. They met a man

leading a horse, on which was seated a married woman returning from one of

the customary visits to her mother's family. She had a child in her arms,

and the hired labourer leading the horse had on a wide straw hat. Now it

is one of the eccentricities of the inaccurate views of those who pray for

rain to non-existent monkeys and to garter-snakes, that they also

entertain misconceptions as to the causes which hinder rain. Foreigners

carrying umbrellas have been mobbed as the efficient cause of drought. The

water-spouts of a new consulate in a treaty-port have been complained of

as drawing off the moisture that was meant for the whole province. So in

this case the big straw-hat of the rustic was resented as

"contra-indicated"--as the physicians say--by the rain-prayers. The

peasant was roared at, and a long pike-staff was thrust into his hat which

was thrown from his head upon the horse, which being frightened pulled

away and plunged ahead. The woman could not keep her seat, first dropping

her child which was dashed to the ground and killed. The woman's foot

caught in a stirrup and she was dragged for a long distance and when the

horse was at length stopped she too was dead. She was pregnant, so that in

one moment three lives had been sacrificed. The hired man ran on a little

way to the woman's home, told his story, and as the men of the family

happened to be at home, they all seized whatever implements they could

find and ran after the rain-prayers, with whom they fought a fierce battle

killing four or five of them outright. The case went into the District

yamAȘn, and what became of it then, we do not know.

Among the other eccentricities of rain-producing, is the borrowing of a

god from one village for use in another. If he succeeds in getting rain he

is taken back in honour; otherwise he is not unlikely to be left where he

happened to be deposited when worshipped, the villagers--like a set of

commissioners for educational examination--being solely influenced by

"results." In other instances if the god does not show signs of

appreciation of the need of rain, he may be taken out into the hot sun and

left there to broil, as a hint to wake up and do his duty. A bunch of

willows is thrust into his hand, because the willow is sensitive to the

smallest moisture. It is a common saying in China that "when the Floods

wash away the temple of Lung Wang (the Dragon King) it is a case of not

knowing one's own folks." Yet this is what constantly happens.

It is more than forty years since the Yellow River changed its course to

its present one, taking the bed of a small stream known as the Clear River

and bringing with the turbid torrent devastation and utter ruin. During

more than an entire generation Central Shan-tung has been cursed with

"China's Sorrow," and even when the course was altered again in 1887, the

Government spent fabulous sums, and at last brought the stream back again

into its former bed--a feat which few foreigners who saw the new channel

thought it possible to execute.

The next year the region was visited by a corps of Dutch engineers, who

made an elaborate survey and published an exhaustive report, to which the

Chinese Government paid no attention whatever. The plea at that time was

lack of money, but the funds could have been had if the execution of the

work had been put into foreign hands, than whom no more competent ones

than the Dutch could have been found. But at the time when the Director

General of the Yellow River--a title the humour of which is lost on the

Chinese--memorialized the Throne on the necessity of employing foreign

science for this otherwise hopeless task, his proposal was rebuked by the

Empress Dowager as "premature and ostentatious!"

According to Chinese ideas the "Three Harmonies" are "Heaven, Earth, and

Man." All three of them are at present out of sorts with each other. What

is imperatively needed is a reconciliation, but this can never be had

until the Chinese come to a more accurate appreciation of the limits of

the powers of each of the triad. A new set of men would soon make a new

earth, and then the heavens would be found to be well enough as they are.

In the course of ten years enough water falls for the use of all, and not

too much to be managed. But man must learn how to control it, and until he

does so, "Heaven, earth and man" will never be in right relations.

XVII

THE VILLAGE HUNT

There are parts of the wide province of Shan-tung, in which there are

great sheets of clear and deep water much frequented by water-fowl,

especially in the autumn and in the winter. In any Western land these

districts would be the paradise of hunters, but here the ducks and the

geese go their several ways in "peace and tranquillity along the whole

road," undisturbed by the gun of the sportsman or the pot-hunter. This is

due to an old-time custom of the yamAȘn in the Prefectural city contiguous

to the largest marshes, of levying a squeeze on the results of the

gunner's toil, a squeeze so comprehensive and virtually prohibitory in its

action that water-fowl are practically out of the market altogether.

There is a record in the life of Dr. Medhurst, one of the pioneer

missionaries in China, and father of Sir Walter Medhurst, sometime Her

Majesty's Consul-General in Shanghai, of a trip which he and a companion

made north from Shanghai along the coasts of Shan-tung. Their plan was to

debark from the fishing junk in which they had taken passage, cut across

from one headland to another and then rejoin their vessel to repeat the

same process farther on. In this way they succeeded in penetrating to a

few fishing villages and had conversation with a handful of people all

along shore. With charming frankness the historian of this pioneer tour

mentions that they nowhere saw any wild animals. We can readily believe

him, for even at this advanced stage of extended exploration, the only

wild animal that the most experienced traveller is likely to see is the

hare, albeit there are sundry others such as weasels, a kind of

ground-fox, and the like, which do not obtrude themselves to any extent in

public.

It is said that in the little kingdom of Denmark the citizens have a

winter sport which consists in a general and organized hunt for hares on

the part of all the male population of a very extended territory, starting

from a given point and working in a definite direction, under precise and

carefully observed rules. At the close of the hunt there is a great feast

to which all are welcomed, and the whole performance is one to which there

is much anxious looking forward on the part of the young and vigorous

country-folk. It is strange to meet with a custom of the same kind in

China, but there is an ancient district in Shan-tung, known as P'ing-yA1/4en,

or Level-plains, where the Danish custom flourishes in full force, but

minus the very important concluding feast. For where is the Chinese who

would have the courage or indeed the means to welcome the countless swarms

of his country-side to enjoy the pleasure of eating at somebody else's

expense?

The whole arrangement of this combination hunt is in the hands of a few

impecunious fellows who have the right of "protecting" merchants at the

great fairs from imposition by other rascals, by means of levying a

prophylactic black-mail of their own on a certain day at the principal

market of the region. A man who has no single spear of hair on his head

passes up and down the crowded lanes of the market, and calls out that on

such and such a day there will be an attack by all the people of the

"north district" on the hares. This notice is repeated with varied

iteration, until the word is comprehended by all those within hearing,

each one goes home and tells the rest of the village, and on the set day

all are ready for the fray. The reason for having the notice circulated by

a bald man exclusively is the eminently Chinese one that in the Mandarin

dialect the word for Bald--T'u--and that for Hare are identical in sound.

This circumstance once led to a very singular error on the part of a

bright little child of certain foreigners living in Shan-tung. One of the

employees of the establishment had been off somewhere on a donkey, and

while he was leading it homeward the beast broke away and galloped off. A

lad who was cutting grass in the neighbourhood saw the fleeing animal,

rushed out and caught it, holding it till the rider came up. On their

reaching home the dramatic story was told in the hearing of the lad, and

the capture of the donkey was accredited to a little "T'u-tzA-" or

"Bald-boy." The foreign child heard the thrilling narrative which he duly

retailed at the parental dinner-table, only he translated the name

"T'u-tzA-" as Hare, the only kind of t'u-tzA- of which he had ever

heard!

On the day appointed for the hare-hunt, almost the whole population of the

district to be beaten up turn out to help in the sport. They often stand

as thick together as soldiers in ranks. The frightened hares go from one

side to the other of the wide-spreading ring, but as every one of the

human assailants has a stick and many of them have two, the chances of

escape for the hare are reduced below zero. It is a law of the game that

whoever succeeds in seizing a hare must hold it aloft, and in a loud tone

cry out, "I raise it" (chA1/4), after which it is his, and no one can take it

from him lawfully. Nevertheless, Chinese human nature is much like the

article in other parts of the world, and the results are apt to be serious

quarrels, fights, broken heads and limbs and perhaps lawsuits. But with

that practical talent for which Chinese officials are distinguished, the

Magistrates refuse to hear any case arising from these conditions, so that

it is necessary to have them settled, as by far the majority of all

Chinese law cases are, out of court by "peace-talkers."

How easy it is for quarrels to arise even among a most peaceable people

like the Chinese, with or without a hare-hunt, is illustrated by an

incident which occurred some years since, many of the actors in which are

well known to the writer.

A few villagers were returning late on a moonlight night from a funeral in

another village. Nearing their own hamlet, they came on two young fellows

chopping down small trees of the kind called date (a jujube or rhamnus).

They were getting ready clubs for the combined hare-hunt next day. On

being hailed, the youths, who were trespassing on the territory of their

neighbouring village, fled to their home pursued by the others. The latter

returned to their own village and maliciously spread the report that the

young men had been cutting _pine trees from the clan graveyard_. Although

it was late at night a posse was soon raised to go to the other village

(about a mile off) and demand satisfaction. The village was asleep, but

some headmen were at last aroused who begged their visitors to postpone

the matter till daylight, when the case would be looked into and the

culprits punished, and any required satisfaction given.

To the reasonable request, only reviling was retorted, and the band

returned to their own village filled with fury. A gong was beaten, every

man in the village aroused and every male of fit age forced to accompany

the mob armed with clubs, poles, etc., to attack the other village. The

latter happened to have a mud wall and gates kept closed at night. So

large a band made a great noise, and soon roused their antagonists by

their abusive language. The village elders struggled to keep the gates

closed, but they were overborne by the hot blood of the youth, who were

resolved, since they must have it, to give their assailants all the

satisfaction they wanted. The gates once opened, a furious battle ensued,

and the women who clambered to the flat-house tops and struggled to see

what was going on heard only the dull whacks of heavy blows. Several men

were knocked senseless, and on the cry that they had been killed, the

battle was renewed until the attacked were driven inside their village,

each side having several men wounded, some of them severely. One old man

had his skull beaten in with a carrying pole and was born home

unconscious, in which condition he remained for a week or two.

The next morning the attacking village went out and chopped down three

little pine-trees growing in their own cemetery (as "proof" of the injury

done by the other party), and proceeded to the District city to enter a

complaint. The other village of course did the same. The first village

took with them the old man, unconscious, and apparently in a moribund

condition. Each party had to arrange its yamAȘn expenses before a step

could be taken, and as the case was a serious one, these were heavy. The

Magistrate dared not decide either way until it was seen whether the

wounded recovered. An epileptic, half-witted boy captured by one side, who

avowed his responsibility for the trouble (perhaps scared nearly to death)

was cruelly beaten till he was half dead for so doing. The matter dragged

on for a long time, and at length was decided on no principle either of

law or of equity--as is the case with so many suits--each side settling

its own debts, and neither side winning. The village attacked had

squandered at the yamAȘn 300 strings of cash, and the attacking party 500!

The old man at last recovered, and peace reigned in Warsaw and its

suburbs.

Now what was the _motive_ for all this? Was there a feud between these

villages? By no means, but exceptional amity, six or eight families being

connected by marriage. Was there any special provocation? None whatever;

all comprehensible _motives_ led to a continuance of peace, but war and

bloodshed followed just the same. Much may be accounted for by Chinese

passion, but how can passion be suddenly made out of nothing? It is the

current fashion to explain all phenomena, celestial and terrestrial, in

terms of the development theory. Given heredity, education and environment

and you have the man, and society. But it is questionable whether this

classification is as exhaustive as it seems. At times another factor

appears to be required. It is what Edgar Poe called the Imp of the

Perverse.

XVIII

VILLAGE WEDDINGS AND FUNERALS

The Chinese share with the rest of the human race a desire to make a

marriage ceremony an occasion of joy. One of the most frequent periphrases

for a wedding, is the expression "joyful event." It is in China

preA"minently true that the highest forms of "joy," find expression in

eating. While marriage feasts are no doubt to be found in all lands at all

times, they are especially Oriental, and are characteristic of the

Chinese.

Owing to the extent and the intricate ramifications of Chinese

relationships, the number of persons who must be invited to a wedding is

very large. In some regions it is customary for women only to contribute a

"share" (_fAȘn-tsA-_) to a wedding, while the men give a present at that

part of the ceremony when the bridegroom salutes the guests in turn with a

prostration. As the name of each guest is called to be thus honoured, he

hands over the amount of his offering. But in other places men and women

contribute in the same way. Of two things, however, one may be confident;

that nearly all those invited will be present either in person or by a

representative; and that nearly every woman will be accompanied by

children, who contribute nothing to the revenues, but add enormously to

the expenses.

Marriage customs in China certainly vary widely, but of such a thing as

being present at "the ceremony," but not at "the wedding breakfast," we

have never heard. Indeed, it can scarcely be said that, in our sense of

the word, there is any "ceremony." Whatever may be added or subtracted

from the performances, the essence of a Chinese wedding seems to consist

in the arrival of the bride at her future home. The "feast" is the main

feature of the occasion. Sometimes the relatives are not invited at all

upon the wedding day, but at a subsequent one; yet it is not the less true

that when the guests do come, the "feast" is the centre and soul of the

occasion.

If there is anything which the Chinese have reduced to an exact science,

it is the business of eating. The sign of real friendship is to invite a

man to a meal, and it is a proverbial saying that he who comes bearing a

vessel of wine on his shoulder and leading a sheep, is the truly

hospitable man, for he shows by his acts that his invitation is a real

one. The great mass of the Chinese spend their days in a condition which

is very remote from affluence, but the expenses of weddings and funerals

in the mere matter of eating, are such as must, from the extent of such

expenses and the frequency of the occasions upon which they are required,

reduce any but a very affluent family to utter poverty.