CHAPTER VIII

_THE END OF THE YEAR_

The holidays begin ten days before the end of the year, so that everybody

may have time to prepare for this great solemnity. For in China there are

no legal holidays, and busy people only get a rest during the three great

feasts of the Dragon, the Moon, and the change of the Year. There are

five days holiday during each of the first two feasts, and thirty days

during the last.

It is on these dates that bills usually fall due, and when they must be

paid.

The last feast that we have spoken about includes several religious

ceremonies. These consist in offering banquets to each one of the gods

in thanksgiving for the good things he has accorded during the year that

has passed. On the twenty-fourth day of the twelfth moon a touching

ceremony is performed in the richest and the poorest houses alike. It is

that of the adieu addressed to the household god and the reception given

to the new-comer. It appears that this god only holds his tutelary office

during one year, and has then to make place for a successor.

The altar of this god is always placed in the kitchen; candles are

lighted before him every day, and incense is burned. At night a

night-lamp, which is called the fire of long life, burns before his altar.

On the evening of the twenty-fourth, a grand dinner, with cakes of the

most varied descriptions, and fruits of every sort, is spread out before

this altar for the guests to partake of.

After having poured out the wine of libation and let off the crackers,

without which no fête is complete in China, oats and corn are thrown on

the roof of the house for the horses of the god to feed upon, and it is

at that moment that he is supposed to take his departure.

The table is then cleared, and a fresh repast is laid out before the

altar for the refreshment and welcome of the new-comer. His name is at

once inscribed in the place of that of his predecessor, or it is the

images of himself and his wife that are placed in the stead of those of

the gods of the previous year.

This is our Christmas Day, after a fashion. It is this day that the

children look forward to, in the expectation of fruits and sweets.

Preserves are made of the dishes that are left over from these two

repasts, and these sometimes last over the whole of the first month of

the new year. The richer a family is, the more of these preserves will it

make. Parties and fêtes follow each other in unbroken succession.

On the last day a large pot of rice is put out of doors. The rice is

garnished with cypress leaves, on which imitation ingots of gold and

silver are placed. These are in paper, which is covered with lettering,

meaning long life, honour, health, happiness, and so on, cut out in

red paper. On the rice are heaped various kinds of fruit, symbolic of

prosperity.

This rice remains standing on a table in the open air until midnight.

It is called the “rice of the old year.” At midnight it is replaced by

another pot of rice, garnished in the same way. This is the rice of the

new year, and it is allowed to stand in position for two or three days.

A lucky day is then chosen in the calendar, and on this day the rice is

removed and eaten.

It is unnecessary to say that the same sacrifices take place every day

before the tablets of the ancestors, who are never or on any occasion

forgotten.

Formerly a number of superstitious customs were observed. According to

an old handbook of hygiene, a man had to lie down secretly by the side

of the family well on the New Year’s Eve, holding in his hand a flowering

branch of the pepper tree, and, when midnight struck, to throw this

branch into the well, if the family wanted to have pure and microbeless

water to drink during the ensuing year.

Under the reign of the dynasty of the Han family, a procession of one

hundred and twenty children, aged from ten to twelve years, and dressed

in grey clothes with red hats, used to march through the streets, each

child being armed with a drum, with the beating of which he was supposed

to drive away all evil spirits.

This procession was much more imposing under the Shungs in the sixth

century. The military took part in it, dressed in bright uniforms, and

carrying gilt lances and the banners of the dragon. These marched at the

head of the procession, all more or less hideously masked. Meanwhile, out

in the country the farmers used to form a torchlight procession, with

torches stuck in the end of long bamboos, and went running through all

their fields, begging the gods for a good rice-harvest and an abundance

of silkworms. In some provinces children used to run about the streets,

saying that they had their stock of intelligence for sale, and, of

course, found none to buy of them. All these things have now been done

away with. Only the religious ceremonies, of which I have spoken above,

remain in force to-day, as well as the vigils for seeing the new year in.

I do not speak of certain eccentric customs, which only form exceptions

to the general habit. Thus, for instance, the poets will sometimes place

their works on an altar in their house and make sacrifices before them.

Others melt their gold and pour it into water, predicting the future from

the curious shapes of the metal as it cools.

There is a literary piece by Han-Wong-Koung, an adieu to the God of

Wretchedness, which is very much read in China during the feast of the

end of the year. It is too long to be quoted here, but can be read by

all with great satisfaction. It gives excellent advice to the poor, and

teaches them how to fight against the demon of poverty. Some read it to

learn how to remain happy, others how to console themselves for their

wretchedness and how to get out of it.

[Illustration]

[Illustration]

Chin-Chin; Or, The Chinaman at Home · 第 8 / 37 章