could remember himself in a previous state of existence. He said he
had formerly been a scholar, and had died in middle life; and that
when he appeared before the Judge of Purgatory, there stood the
cauldrons, the boiling oil, and other apparatus of torture, exactly as
we read about them on earth. In the eastern corner of the hall were a
number of frames from which hung the skins of sheep, dogs, oxen,
horses, etc.; and when anybody was condemned to re-appear in life
under any one of these forms, his skin was stripped off and a skin was
taken from the proper frame and fixed on to his body. The gentleman of
whom I am writing heard himself sentenced to become a sheep; and the
attendant devils had already clothed him in a sheep’s-skin in the
manner above described, when the clerk of the record informed the
Judge that the criminal before him had once saved another man’s life.
The Judge consulted his books, and forthwith cried out, “I pardon him;
for although his sins have been many, this one act has redeemed them
all.”[191] The devils then tried to take off the sheep’s-skin, but it
was so tightly stuck on him that they couldn’t move it. However, after
great efforts, and causing the gentleman most excruciating agony, they
managed to tear it off bit by bit, though not quite so cleanly as one
might have wished. In fact, a piece as big as the palm of a man’s hand
was left near his shoulder; and when he was born again into the world,
there was a great patch of hair on his back, which grew again as fast
as it was cut off.
FOOTNOTE:
[191] Note 178 to No. CVII. should be read here. To save life is
indeed the bounden duty of every good Buddhist, for which he will be
proportionately rewarded in the world to come.
CXII.
THE SALT SMUGGLER.
Wang Shih, of Kao-wan, a petty salt huckster, was inordinately fond of
gambling. One night he was arrested by two men, whom he took for
lictors of the Salt Gabelle; and, flinging down what salt he had with
him, he tried to make his escape.[192] He found, however, that his
legs would not move with him, and he was forthwith seized and bound.
“We are not sent by the Salt Commissioner,” cried his captors, in
reply to an entreaty to set him free; “we are the devil-constables of
Purgatory.” Wang was horribly frightened at this, and begged the
devils to let him bid farewell to his wife and children; but this they
refused to do, saying, “You aren’t going to die; you are only wanted
for a little job there is down below.” Wang asked what the job was; to
which the devils replied, “A new Judge has come into office, and,
finding the river[193] and the eighteen hells choked up with the
bodies of sinners, he has determined to employ three classes of
mortals to clean them out. These are thieves, unlicensed
founders,[194] and unlicensed dealers in salt, and, for the dirtiest
work of all, he is going to take musicians.”[195]
Wang accompanied the devils until at length they reached a city, where
he was brought before the Judge, who was sitting in his Judgment-hall.
On turning up his record in the books, one of the devils explained
that the prisoner had been arrested for unlicensed trading; whereupon
the Judge became very angry, and said, “Those who drive an illicit
trade in salt, not only defraud the State of its proper revenue, but
also prey upon the livelihood of the people. Those, however, whom the
greedy officials and corrupt traders of to-day denounce as unlicensed
traders, are among the most virtuous of mankind--needy unfortunates
who struggle to save a few cash in the purchase of their pint of
salt.[196] Are they your unlicensed traders?” The Judge then bade the
lictors buy four pecks of salt, and send it to Wang’s house for him,
together with that which had been found upon him; and, at the same
time, he gave Wang an iron scourge, and told him to superintend the
works at the river. So Wang followed the devils, and found the river
swarming with people like ants in an ant-hill. The water was turbid
and red, the stench from it being almost unbearable, while those who
were employed in cleaning it out were working there naked. Sometimes
they would sink down in the horrid mass of decaying bodies: sometimes
they would get lazy, and then the iron scourge was applied to their
backs. The assistant-superintendents had small scented balls, which
they held in their mouths. Wang himself approached the bank, and saw
the licensed salt-merchant of Kao-wan[197] in the midst of it all, and
thrashed him well with his scourge, until he was afraid he would never
come up again. This went on for three days and three nights, by which
time half the workmen were dead, and the work completed; whereupon the
same two devils escorted him home again, and then he waked up.
As a matter of fact, Wang had gone out to sell some salt, and had not
come back. Next morning, when his wife opened the house door, she
found two bags of salt in the court-yard; and, as her husband did not
return, she sent off some people to search for him, and they
discovered him lying senseless by the wayside. He was immediately
conveyed home, where, after a little time, he recovered consciousness,
and related what had taken place. Strange to say, the licensed
salt-merchant had fallen down in a fit on the previous evening, and
had only just recovered; and Wang, hearing that his body was covered
with sores--the result of the beating with the iron scourge--went off
to his house to see him; however, directly the wretched man set eyes
on Wang, he hastily covered himself up with the bed-clothes,
forgetting that they were no longer at the infernal river. He did not
recover from his injuries for a year, after which he retired from
trade.[198]
FOOTNOTES:
[192] Salt is a Government monopoly in China, and its sale is only
permitted to licensed dealers. It is a contraband article of commerce,
whether for import or export, to foreign nations trading with China.
In an account of a journey from Swatow to Canton in March-April, 1877,
I wrote:--“_Apropos_ of salt, we came across a good-sized bunker of it
when stowing away our things in the space below the deck. The boatmen
could not resist the temptation of doing a little smuggling on the way
up.... At a secluded point in a bamboo-shaded bend of the river, they
ran the boat alongside the bank, and were instantly met by a number of
suspicious-looking gentlemen with baskets, who soon relieved them of
the smuggled salt and separated in different directions.” Thus do the
people of China seek to lighten the grievous pressure of this tax. A
curious custom exists in Canton. Certain blind old men and women are
allowed to hawk salt about the streets, and earn a scanty living from
the profits they are able to make.
It may interest some to know that in the cities of the north of China
_ice_ and _coal_ may only be retailed by licensed dealers, who retain
such authority on the condition of supplying the yamêns of the local
mandarins with these two necessaries, free of all charge.
[193] The Styx.
[194] These words require some explanation. Ordinarily they would be
taken in the sense of casting _cash_ of a base description; but they
might equally well signify the casting of iron articles of any kind,
and thereby hang some curious details. Iron foundries in China may
only be opened under license from the local officials, and the
articles there made, consisting chiefly of cooking utensils, may only
be sold within a given area, each district having its own particular
foundries from which alone the supplies of the neighbourhood may be
derived. Free trade in iron is much feared by the authorities, as
thereby pirates and rebels would be enabled to supply themselves with
arms. At the framing of the Treaty of Tientsin, with its accompanying
tariff and rules, iron was not specified among other prohibited
articles of commerce. Consequently, British merchants would appear to
have a full right to purchase iron in the interior and convey it to
any of the open ports under Transit-pass. But the Chinese officials
steadily refuse to acknowledge, or permit the exercise of, this right,
putting forward their own time-honoured custom with regard to iron,
and enumerating the disadvantages to China were such an innovation to
be brought about.
[195] The allusion is to women, of a not very respectable class.
[196] No Chinese magistrate would be found to pass sentence upon a man
who stole food under stress of hunger.
[197] His own village.
[198] The whole story is meant as a satire upon the iniquity of the
Salt Gabelle.
CXIII.
COLLECTING SUBSCRIPTIONS.
The Frog-God frequently employs a magician to deliver its oracles to
those who have faith. Should the magician declare that the God is
pleased, happiness is sure to follow; but if he says the God is angry,
women and children[199] sit sorrowfully about, and neglect even their
meals. Such is the customary belief, and it is probably not altogether
devoid of foundation.
There was a certain wealthy merchant, named Chou, who was a very
stingy man. Once, when some repairs were necessary to the temple of
the God of War,[200] and rich and poor were subscribing as much as
each could afford, he alone gave nothing.[201] By-and-by the works
were stopped for want of funds, and the committee of management were
at a loss what to do next. It happened that just then there was a
festival in honour of the Frog-God, at which the magician suddenly
cried out, “General Chou[202] has given orders for a further
subscription. Bring forth the books.” The people all shouting assent
to this, the magician went on to say, “Those who have already
subscribed will not be compelled to do so again; those who have not
subscribed must give according to their means.” Thereupon various
persons began to put down their names, and when this was finished,
the magician examined the books. He then asked if Mr. Chou was
present; and the latter, who was skulking behind, in dread lest he
should be detected by the God, had no alternative but to come to the
front. “Put yourself down for one hundred taels,” said the magician to
him; and when Chou hesitated, he cried out to him in anger, “You could
give two hundred for your own bad purposes: how much more should you
do so in a good cause?” alluding to a scandalous intrigue of Chou’s,
the consequences of which he had averted by payment of the sum
mentioned. This put our friend to the blush, and he was obliged to
enter his name for one hundred taels, at which his wife was very
angry, and said the magician was a rogue, and whenever he came to
collect the money he was put off with some excuse.
Shortly afterwards, Chou was one day going to sleep, when he heard a
noise outside his house, like the blowing of an ox, and beheld a huge
frog walking leisurely through the front door, which was just big
enough to let it pass. Once inside, the creature laid itself down to
sleep, with its head on the threshold, to the great horror of all the
inmates; upon which Chou observed that it had probably come to collect
his subscription, and burning some incense, he vowed that he would pay
down thirty taels on the spot, and send the balance later on. The
frog, however, did not move, so Chou promised fifty, and then there
was a slight decrease in the frog’s size. Another twenty brought it
down to the size of a peck measure; and when Chou said the full
amount should be paid on the spot, the frog became suddenly no larger
than one’s fist, and disappeared through a hole in the wall. Chou
immediately sent off fifty taels, at which all the other subscribers
were much astonished, not knowing what had taken place. A few days
afterwards the magician said Chou still owed fifty taels, and that he
had better send it in soon; so Chou forwarded ten more, hoping now to
have done with the matter. However, as he and his wife were one day
sitting down to dinner, the frog reappeared, and glaring with anger,
took up a position on the bed, which creaked under it, as though
unable to bear the weight. Putting its head on the pillow, the frog
went off to sleep, its body gradually swelling up until it was as big
as a buffalo, and nearly filled the room, causing Chou to send off the
balance of his subscription without a moment’s delay. There was now no
diminution in the size of the frog’s body; and by-and-by crowds of
small frogs came hopping in, boring through the walls, jumping on the
bed, catching flies on the cooking-stove, and dying in the saucepans,
until the place was quite unbearable. Three days passed thus, and then
Chou sought out the magician, and asked him what was to be done. The
latter said he could manage it, and began by vowing on behalf of Chou
twenty more taels’ subscription. At this the frog raised its head, and
a further increase caused it to move one foot; and by the time a
hundred taels was reached, the frog was walking out of the door. At
the door, however, it stopped, and lay down once more, which the
magician explained by saying, that immediate payment was required; so
Chou handed over the amount at once, and the frog, shrinking down to
its usual size, mingled with its companions, and departed with them.
The repairs to the temple were accordingly completed, but for
“lighting the eyes,”[203] and the attendant festivities, some further
subscriptions were wanted. Suddenly, the magician, pointing at the
managers, cried out, “There is money short; of fifteen men, two of you
are defaulters.” At this, all declared they had given what they could
afford; but the magician went on to say, “It is not a question of what
you can afford; you have misappropriated the funds[204] that should
not have been touched, and misfortune would come upon you, but that,
in return for your exertions, I shall endeavour to avert it from you.
The magician himself is not without taint.[205] Let him set you a good
example.” Thereupon, the magician rushed into his house, and brought
out all the money he had, saying, “I stole eight taels myself, which I
will now refund.” He then weighed what silver he had, and finding that
it only amounted to a little over six taels, he made one of the
bystanders take a note of the difference. Then the others came forward
and paid up, each what he had misappropriated from the public fund.
All this time the magician had been in a divine ecstasy, not knowing
what he was saying; and when he came round, and was told what had
happened, his shame knew no bounds, so he pawned some of his clothes,
and paid in the balance of his own debt. As to the two defaulters who
did not pay, one of them was ill for a month and more; while the other
had a bad attack of boils.
FOOTNOTES:
[199] The chief supporters of superstition in China.
[200] See No. I., note 39.
[201] Such is one of the most common causes of hostile demonstration
against Chinese Christians. The latter, acting under the orders of the
missionaries, frequently refuse to subscribe to the various local
celebrations and processions, the great annual festivities, and
ceremonies of all kinds, on the grounds that these are idolatrous and
forbidden by the Christian faith. Hence bad feeling, high words, blows,
and sometimes bloodshed. I say “frequently,” because I have discovered
several cases in which converts have quietly subscribed like other
people rather than risk an _émeute_.
An amusing incident came under my own special notice not very long
ago. A missionary appeared before me one day to complain that a
certain convert of his had been posted in his own village, and cut off
from his civic rights for two years, merely because he had agreed to
let a room of his house to be used as a missionary _dépôt_. I took a
copy of the placard which was handed to me in proof of this statement,
and found it to run thus:--“In consequence of ---- having entered into
an agreement with a barbarian pastor, to lease to the said barbarian
pastor a room in his house to be used as a missionary chapel, we, the
elders of this village, do hereby debar ---- from the privilege of
worshipping in our ancestral hall for the space of two years.” It is
needless, of course, to mention that Ancestral Worship is prohibited
by all sects of missionaries in China alike; or that, when I pointed
this out to the individual in question, who could not have understood
the import of the Chinese placard, the charge was promptly withdrawn.
[202] An historical character who was formerly among the ranks of the
Yellow Turban rebels, but subsequently entered the service of Kuan Yü
(see No. I., note 39), and was canonized by an Emperor of the last
dynasty.
[203] This curious ceremony is the final touch to a newly-built or
newly-restored temple, and consists in giving expression to the eyes
of the freshly-painted idols, which have been purposely left blank by
the painter. Up to that time these blocks of clay or wood are not
supposed to have been animated by the spiritual presence of the deity
in question; but no sooner are the eyes lighted than the gratified God
smiles down upon the handsome decorations thus provided by devout and
trusting suppliants.
There is a cognate custom belonging to the ceremonies of ancestral
worship, of great importance in the eyes of the Chinese. On a certain
day after the death of a parent, the surviving head of the family
proceeds with much solemnity to dab a spot of ink upon the memorial
tablet of the deceased. This is believed to give to the departed
spirit the power of remaining near to, and watching over the fortunes
of, those left behind.
[204] Such indeed is the fate of a per-centage of all public
subscriptions raised and handled by Chinese of no matter what class. A
year or two ago an application was made to me for a donation to a
native foundling hospital at Swatow, on the ground that I was known as
a “read (Chinese) book man,” and that consequently other persons, both
Chinese and foreigners, might be induced to follow my example. On my
declining to do so, the manager of the concern informed me that if I
would only put down my name for fifty dollars, say £10, no call should
be made upon me for the money! Even in the matter of the funds
collected for the famine-stricken people of 1878, it is whispered that
peculation has been rife.
[205] The reader must recollect that these are the words of the God,
speaking from the magician’s body.
CXIV.
TAOIST MIRACLES.
At Chi-nan Fu there lived a certain priest: I cannot say whence he
came, or what was his name. Winter and summer alike he wore but one
unlined robe, and a yellow girdle about his waist, with neither shirt
nor trousers. He combed his hair with a broken comb, holding the ends
in his mouth, like the strings of a hat. By day he wandered about the
market-place; at night he slept in the street, and to a distance of
several feet round where he lay, the ice and snow would melt. When he
first arrived at Chi-nan he used to perform miracles, and the people
vied with each other in making him presents. One day a disreputable
young fellow gave him a quantity of wine, and begged him in return to
divulge the secret of his power; and when the priest refused, the
young man watched him get into the river to bathe, and then ran off
with his clothes. The priest called out to him to bring them back,
promising that he would do as the young man required; but the latter,
distrusting the priest’s good faith, refused to do so; whereupon the
priest’s girdle was forthwith changed into a snake, several spans in
circumference, which coiled itself round its master’s head, and glared
and hissed terribly. The young man now fell on his knees, and humbly
prayed the priest to save his life; at which the priest put his girdle
on again, and a snake that had appeared to be his girdle, wriggled
away and disappeared. The priest’s fame was thus firmly established,
and the gentry and officials of the place were constantly inviting him
to join them in their festive parties. By-and-by the priest said he
was going to invite his entertainers to a return feast;[206] and at
the appointed time each one of them found on his table a formal
invitation to a banquet at the Water Pavilion, but no one knew who had
brought the letters. However, they all went, and were met at the door
by the priest, in his usual garb; and when they got inside, the place
was all desolate and bare, with no banquet ready. “I’m afraid I shall
be obliged to ask you gentlemen to let me use your attendants,” said
the priest to his guests; “I am a poor man, and keep no servants
myself.” To this all readily consented; whereupon the priest drew a
double door upon the wall, and rapped upon it with his knuckles.
Somebody answered from within, and immediately the door was thrown
open, and a splendid array of handsome chairs, and tables loaded with
exquisite viands and costly wines, burst upon the gaze of the
astonished guests. The priest bade the attendants receive all these
things from the door, and bring them outside, cautioning them on no
account to speak with the people inside; and thus a most luxurious
entertainment was provided to the great amazement of all present.
Now this Pavilion stood upon the bank of a small lake, and every year,
at the proper season, it was literally covered with lilies; but, at
the time of this feast, the weather was cold, and the surface of the
lake was of a smoky green colour. “It’s a pity,” said one of the
guests, “that the lilies are not out”--a sentiment in which the others
very cordially agreed, when suddenly a servant came running in to say
that, at that moment, the lake was a perfect mass of lilies. Every one
jumped up directly, and ran to look out of the window, and, lo! it was
so; and in another minute the fragrant perfume of the flowers was
borne towards them by the breeze. Hardly knowing what to make of this
strange sight, they sent off some servants, in a boat, to gather a few
of the lilies, but they soon returned empty-handed, saying, that the
flowers seemed to shift their position as fast as they rowed towards
them; at which the priest laughed, and said, “These are but the lilies
of your imagination, and have no real existence.” And later on, when
the wine was finished, the flowers began to droop and fade; and
by-and-by a breeze from the north carried off every sign of them,
leaving the lake as it had been before.
A certain Taot‘ai,[207] at Chi-nan, was much taken with this priest,
and gave him rooms at his yamên. One day, he had some friends to
dinner, and set before them some very choice old wine that he had, and
of which he only brought out a small quantity at a time, not wishing
to get through it too rapidly. The guests, however, liked it so much
that they asked for more; upon which the Taot‘ai said, “he was very
sorry, but it was all finished.” The priest smiled at this, and said,
“I can give the gentlemen some, if they will oblige me by accepting
it;” and immediately inserted the wine-kettle[208] in his sleeve,
bringing it out again directly, and pouring out for the guests. This
wine tasted exactly like the choice wine they had just been drinking,
and the priest gave them all as much of it as they wanted, which made
the Taot‘ai suspect that something was wrong; so, after the dinner, he
went into his cellar to look at his own stock, when he found the jars
closely tied down, with unbroken seals, but one and all empty. In a
great rage, he caused the priest to be arrested for sorcery, and
proceeded to have him bambooed; but no sooner had the bamboo touched
the priest than the Taot‘ai himself felt a sting of pain, which
increased at every blow; and, in a few moments, there was the priest
writhing and shrieking under every cut,[209] while the Taot‘ai was
sitting in a pool of blood. Accordingly, the punishment was soon
stopped, and the priest was commanded to leave Chi-nan, which he did,
and I know not whither he went. He was subsequently seen at Nanking,
dressed precisely as of old; but on being spoken to, he only smiled
and made no reply.
FOOTNOTES:
[206] It is considered a serious breach of Chinese etiquette to accept
invitations without returning the compliment at an early date.
[207] A high Chinese official, known to foreigners as Intendant of
Circuit; the circuit being a circuit of Prefectures, over which he has
full control, subject only to the approval of the highest provincial
authorities. It is with this functionary that foreign Consuls rank.
[208] See No. XCIII., note 122.
[209] Of course only pretending to be hurt, the pain of the blows
being transferred by his magical art to the back of the Taot‘ai.
CXV.
ARRIVAL OF BUDDHIST PRIESTS.