Foremost among the scholars of the present dynasty stands the name of

KU CHIANG (1612-1681). Remaining faithful to the Mings after

their final downfall, he changed his name to Ku Yen-wu, and for a long

time wandered about the country in disguise. He declined to serve under

the Manchus, and supported himself by farming. A profound student, it

is recorded that in his wanderings he always carried about with him

several horse-loads of books to consult whenever his memory might be at

fault. His writings on the Classics, history, topography, and poetry

are still highly esteemed. To foreigners he is best known as the author

of the _Jih Chih Lu_, which contains his notes, chiefly on the Classics

and history, gathered during a course of reading which extended over

thirty years. He also wrote many works upon the ancient sounds and

rhymes.

* * * * *

CHU YUNG-SHUN (1617-1689) was delicate as a child, and his mother

made him practise the Taoist art of prolonging life indefinitely,

which seems to be nothing more than a system of regular breathing

with deep inspirations. He was a native of a town in Kiangsu, at the

sack of which, by the conquering Tartars, his father perished rather

than submit to the new dynasty. In consequence of his father’s death

he steadily declined to enter upon a public career, and gave up his

life to study and teaching. He was the author of commentaries upon

the Great Learning and the Doctrine of the Mean, and of other works;

but none of these is so famous as his Family Maxims, a little book

which, on account of the author’s name, has often been attributed to

the great commentator Chu Hsi. The piquancy of these maxims disappears

in translation, owing as they do much more to literary form than to

subject-matter. Here are two specimens:--

“Forget the good deeds you have done; remember the kindnesses you have

received.”

“Mind your own business, follow out your destiny, live in accord with

the age, and leave the rest to God. He who can do this is near indeed.”

His own favourite saying was--

“To know what ought to be known, and to do what ought to be done, that

is enough. There is no time for anything else.”

Three days before his death he struggled into the ancestral hall, and

there before the family tablets called the spirits of his forefathers

to witness that he had never injured them by word or deed.

* * * * *

[Sidenote: LAN TING-YÜAN]

LAN TING-YÜAN (1680-1733), better known as Lan Lu-chou,

devoted himself as a youth to poetry, literature, and political

economy. He accompanied his brother to Formosa as military secretary,

and his account of the expedition attracted public attention.

Recommended to the Emperor, he became magistrate of P‘u-lin, and

distinguished himself as much by his just and incorrupt administration

as by his literary abilities. He managed, however, to make enemies

among his superior officers, and within three years he was impeached

for insubordination and thrown into prison. His case was subsequently

laid before the Emperor, who not only set him free, but appointed him

to be Prefect at Canton, bestowing upon him at the same time some

valuable medicine, an autograph copy of verses, a sable robe, some

joss-stick, and other coveted marks of Imperial favour. But all was in

vain. He died of a broken heart one month after taking up his post.

His complete works have been published in twenty small octavo volumes,

of which works perhaps the best known of all is a treatise on the

proper training of women, which fills two of the above volumes. This is

divided under four heads, namely, Virtue, Speech, Personal Appearance,

and Duty, an extended education in the intellectual sense not coming

within the writer’s purview. The chapters are short, and many of them

are introduced by some ancient aphorism, forming a convenient peg upon

which to hang a moral lesson, copious extracts being made from the work

of the Lady Pan of the Han dynasty. A few lines from his preface may be

interesting:--

“Good government of the empire depends upon morals; correctness of

morals depends upon right ordering of the family; and right ordering

of the family depends upon the wife.... If the curtain which divides

the men from the women is too thin to keep them apart, misfortune will

come to the family and to the State. Purification of morals, from the

time of the creation until now, has always come from women. Women are

not all alike; some are good and some are bad. For bringing them to a

proper uniformity there is nothing like education. In old days both

boys and girls were educated ... but now the books used no longer

exist, and we know not the details of the system.... The education

of a woman is not like that of her husband, which may be said to

continue daily all through life. For he can always take up a classic

or a history, or familiarise himself with the works of miscellaneous

writers; whereas a woman’s education does not extend beyond ten years,

after which she takes upon herself the manifold responsibilities of a

household. She is then no longer able to give her undivided attention

to books, and cannot investigate thoroughly, the result being that

her learning is not sufficiently extensive to enable her to grasp

principles. She is, as it were, carried away upon a flood, without hope

of return, and it is difficult for her to make any use of the knowledge

she has acquired. Surely then a work on the education of women is much

to be desired.”

This is how one phase of female virtue is illustrated by anecdote:--

“A man having been killed in a brawl, two brothers were arrested for

the murder and brought to trial. Each one swore that he personally

was the murderer, and that the other was innocent. The judge was thus

unable to decide the case, and referred it to the Prince. The Prince

bade him summon their mother, and ask which of them had done the deed.

‘Punish the younger,’ she replied through a flood of tears. ‘People

are usually more fond of the younger,’ observed the judge; ‘how is it

you wish me to punish him?’ ‘He is my own child,’ answered the woman;

‘the elder is the son of my husband’s first wife. When my husband died

he begged me to take care of the boy, and I promised I would. If now I

were to let the elder be punished while the younger escaped, I should

be only gratifying my private feelings and wronging the dead. I have

no alternative.’ And she wept on until her clothes were drenched with

tears. Meanwhile the judge reported to the Prince, and the latter,

astonished at her magnanimity, pardoned both the accused.”

Two more of the above twenty volumes are devoted to the most remarkable

of the criminal cases tried by him during his short magisterial career.

An extract from the preface (1729) to his complete works, penned by an

ardent admirer, will give an idea of the estimation in which these are

held:--

“My master’s judicial capacity was of a remarkably high order, as

though the mantle of Pao Hsiao-su[46] had descended upon him. In very

difficult cases he would investigate dispassionately and calmly,

appearing to possess some unusual method for worming out the truth; so

that the most crafty lawyers and the most experienced scoundrels, whom

no logic could entangle and no pains intimidate, upon being brought

before him, found themselves deserted by their former cunning, and

confessed readily without waiting for the application of torture.

I, indeed, have often wondered how it is that torture is brought

into requisition so much in judicial investigations. For, under the

influence of the ‘three wooden instruments,’ what evidence is there

which cannot be elicited?--to say nothing of the danger of a mistake

and the unutterable injury thus inflicted upon the departed spirits

in the realms below. Now, my master, in investigating and deciding

cases, was fearful only lest his people should not obtain a full and

fair hearing; he, therefore, argued each point with them quietly and

kindly until they were thoroughly committed to a certain position, with

no possibility of backing out, and then he decided the case upon its

merits as thus set forth. By such means, those who were bambooed had no

cause for complaint, while those who were condemned to die died without

resenting their sentence; the people were unable to deceive him, and

they did not even venture to make the attempt. Thus did he carry out

the Confucian doctrine of respecting popular feeling;[47] and were all

judicial officers to decide cases in the same careful and impartial

manner, there would not be a single injured suitor under the canopy of

heaven.”

The following is a specimen case dealing with the evil effects of

superstitious doctrines:--

“The people of the Ch‘ao-yang district are great on bogies, and love

to talk of spirits and Buddhas. The gentry and their wives devote

themselves to Ta Tien, but the women generally of the neighbourhood

flock in crowds to the temples to burn incense and adore Buddha,

forming an unbroken string along the road. Hence, much ghostly and

supernatural nonsense gets spread about; and hence it was that the

Hou-t‘ien sect came to flourish. I know nothing of the origin of this

sect. It was started amongst the Ch‘ao-yang people by two men, named

Yen and Chou respectively, who said that they had been instructed by

a white-bearded Immortal, and who, when an attempt to arrest them was

made by a predecessor in office, absconded with their families and

remained in concealment. By and by, however, they came back, calling

themselves the White Lily or the White Aspen sect. I imagine that

White Lily was the real designation, the alteration in name being

simply made to deceive. Their ‘goddess’ was Yen’s own wife, and she

pretended to be able to summon wind and bring down rain, enslave

bogies and exorcise spirits, being assisted in her performances by

her paramour, a man named Hu, who called himself the Immortal of

Pencil Peak. He used to aid in writing out charms, spirting water,

curing diseases, and praying for heirs; and he could enable widows

to hold converse with their departed husbands. The whole district

was taken in by these people, and went quite mad about them, people

travelling from afar to worship them as spiritual guides, and, with

many offerings of money, meats, and wines, enrolling themselves as

their humble disciples, until one would have said it was market-day in

the neighbourhood. I heard of their doings one day as I was returning

from the prefectural city. They had already established themselves

in a large building to the north of the district; they had opened a

preaching-hall, collected several hundred persons together, and for

the two previous days had been availing themselves of the services of

some play-actors to sing and perform at their banquets. I immediately

sent off constables to arrest them; but the constables were afraid

of incurring the displeasure of the spirits and being seized by the

soldiers of the infernal regions, while so much protection was afforded

by various families of wealth and position that the guilty parties

succeeded in preventing the arrest of a single one of their number.

Therefore I proceeded in person to their establishment, knocked at

the door, and seized the goddess, whom I subjected to a searching

examination as to the whereabouts of her accomplices; but the interior

of the place being, as it was, a perfect maze of passages ramifying in

every direction, when I seized a torch and made my way along, even if

I did stumble up against any one, they were gone in a moment before I

had time to see where. It was a veritable nest of secret villany, and

one which I felt ought to be searched to the last corner. Accordingly,

from the goddess’s bed in a dark and out-of-the-way chamber I dragged

forth some ten or a dozen men; while out of the Immortal’s bedroom I

brought a wooden seal of office belonging to the Lady of the Moon, also

a copy of their magic ritual, a quantity of soporifics, wigs, clothes,

and ornaments, of the uses of which I was then totally ignorant. I

further made a great effort to secure the person of the Immortal

himself; and when his friends and rich supporters saw the game was up,

they surrendered him over to justice. At his examination he comported

himself in a very singular manner, such being indeed the chief means

upon which he relied, besides the soporifics and fine dresses, to

deceive the eyes and ears of the public. As to his credulous dupes,

male and female, when they heard the name of the Lady of the Moon they

would be at first somewhat scared; but by and by, seeing that the

goddess was certainly a woman, they would begin to regain courage,

while the Immortal himself, with his hair dressed out and his face

powdered and his skirts fluttering about, hovered round the goddess,

and assuming all the airs and graces of a supernatural beauty, soon

convinced the spectators that he was really the Lady of the Moon, and

quite put them off the scent as to his real sex. Adjourning now to one

of the more remote apartments, there would follow worship of Maitrêya

Buddha, accompanied by the recital of some _sûtra_; after which

soporific incense would be lighted, and the victims be thrown into

a deep sleep. This soporific, or ‘soul confuser,’ as it is otherwise

called, makes people feel tired and sleepy; they are recovered by

means of a charm and a draught of cold water. The promised heirs and

the interviews with deceased husbands are all supposed to be brought

about during the period of trance--for which scandalous impostures

the heads of these villains hung up in the streets were scarcely a

sufficient punishment. However, reflecting that it would be a great

grievance to the people were any of them to find themselves mixed

up in such a case just after a bad harvest, and also that among the

large number who had become affiliated to this society there would be

found many old and respectable families, I determined on a plan which

would put an end to the affair without any troublesome _esclandre_.

I burnt all the depositions in which names were given, and took no

further steps against the persons named. I ordered the goddess and her

paramour to receive their full complement of blows (viz., one hundred),

and to be punished with the heavy _cangue_; and, placing them at the

yamên gate, I let the people rail and curse at them, tear their flesh

and break their heads, until they passed together into their boasted

Paradise. The husband and some ten others of the gang were placed in

the _cangue_, bambooed, or punished in some way; and as for the rest,

they were allowed to escape with this one more chance to turn over

a new leaf. I confiscated the building, destroyed its disgraceful

hiding-places, changed the whole appearance of the place, and made

it into a literary institution to be dedicated to five famous heroes

of literature. I cleansed and purified it from all taint, and on the

1st and 15th of each moon I would, when at leisure, indulge with the

scholars of the district in literary recreations. I formed, in fact, a

literary club; and, leasing a plot of ground for cultivation, devoted

the returns therefrom to the annual Confucian demonstrations and to the

payment of a regular professor. Thus the true doctrine was caused to

flourish, and these supernatural doings to disappear from the scene;

the public tone was elevated, and the morality of the place vastly

improved.

“When the Brigadier-General and the Lieutenant-Governor heard what had

been done, they very much commended my action, saying: ‘Had this sect

not been rooted out, the evil results would have been dire indeed; and

had you reported the case in the usual way, praying for the execution

of these criminals, your merit would undoubtedly have been great; but

now, without selfish regard to your own interests, you have shown

yourself unwilling to hunt down more victims than necessary, or to

expose those doings in such a manner as to lead to the suicide of the

persons implicated. Such care for the fair fame of so many people is

deserving of all praise.’”

Although not yet of the same national importance as at the present day,

it was still impossible that the foreign question should have escaped

the notice of such an observant man as Lan Ting-yüan. He flourished at

a time when the spread of the Roman Catholic religion was giving just

grounds for apprehension to thoughtful Chinese statesmen. Accordingly,

we find amongst his collected works two short notices devoted to a

consideration of trade and general intercourse with the various nations

of barbarians. They are interesting as the untrammelled views of

the greatest living Chinese scholar of the date at which they were

written, namely, in 1732. The following is one of these notices:--

“To allow the barbarians to settle at Canton was a mistake. Ever since

Macao was given over, in the reign of Chia Ching (1522-1567) of the

Ming dynasty, to the red-haired barbarians, all manner of nations

have continued without ceasing to flock thither. They build forts and

fortifications and dense settlements of houses. Their descendants will

overshadow the land, and all the country beyond Hsiang-shan will become

a kingdom of devils. ‘Red-haired’ is a general term for the barbarians

of the western islands. Amongst them there are the Dutch, French,

Spaniards, Portuguese, English, and Yü-sŭ-la [? Islam], all of which

nations are horribly fierce. Wherever they go they spy around with a

view to seize on other people’s territory. There was Singapore, which

was originally a Malay country; the red-haired barbarians went there

to trade, and by and by seized it for an emporium of their own. So

with the Philippines, which were colonised by the Malays; because the

Roman Catholic religion was practised there, the Western foreigners

appropriated it in like manner for their own. The Catholic religion is

now spreading over China. In Hupeh, Hunan, Honan, Kiangsi, Fuhkien, and

Kuangsi, there are very few places whither it has not reached. In the

first year of the Emperor Yung Chêng [1736], the Viceroy of Fuhkien,

Man Pao, complained that the Western foreigners were preaching their

religion and tampering with the people, to the great detriment of the

localities in question; and he petitioned that the Roman Catholic

chapels in the various provinces might be turned into lecture-rooms

and schools, and that all Western foreigners might be sent to Macao,

to wait until an opportunity should present itself of sending them

back to their own countries. However, the Viceroy of Kuangtung, out of

mistaken kindness, memorialised the Throne that such of the barbarians

as were old or sick and unwilling to go away might be permitted to

remain in the Roman Catholic establishment at Canton, on the condition

that if they proselytised, spread their creed, or chaunted their sacred

books, they were at once to be punished and sent away. The scheme was

an excellent one, but what were the results of it? At present more

than 10,000 men have joined the Catholic chapel at Canton, and there

is also a department for women, where they have similarly got together

about 2000. This is a great insult to China, and seriously injures

our national traditions, enough to make every man of feeling grind

his teeth with rage. The case by no means admits of ‘teaching before

punishing.’

“Now these traders come this immense distance with the object of making

money. What then is their idea in paying away vast sums in order to

attract people to their faith? Thousands upon thousands they get to

join them, not being satisfied until they have bought up the whole

province. Is it possible to shut one’s eyes and stop one’s ears,

pretending to know nothing about it and making no inquiries whatever?

There is an old saying among the people--‘Take things in time. A

little stream, if not stopped, may become a great river.’ How much

more precaution is needed, then, when there is a general inundation

and men’s hearts are restless and disturbed? In Canton the converts to

Catholicism are very numerous; those in Macao are in an inexpugnable

fortress. There is a constant interchange of arms between the two, and

if any trouble like that of the Philippines or Singapore should arise,

I cannot say how we should meet it. At the present moment, with a

pattern of Imperial virtue on the Throne, whose power and majesty have

penetrated into the most distant regions, this foolish design of the

barbarians should on no account be tolerated. Wise men will do well to

be prepared against the day when it may be necessary for us to retire

before them, clearing the country as we go.”

The following extract from a letter to a friend was written by Lan

Ting-yüan in 1724, and proves that if he objected to Christianity, he

was not one whit more inclined to tolerate Buddhism:--

“Of all the eighteen provinces, Chehkiang is the one where Buddhist

priests and nuns most abound. In the three prefectures of Hangchow,

Chia-hsing, and Huchow there cannot be fewer than several tens of

thousands of them, of whom, by the way, not more than one-tenth have

willingly taken the vows. The others have been given to the priests

when quite little, either because their parents were too poor to keep

them, or in return for some act of kindness; and when the children grow

up, they are unable to get free. Buddhist nuns are also in most cases

bought up when children as a means of making a more extensive show of

religion, and are carefully prevented from running away. They are not

given in marriage--the desire for which is more or less implanted in

every human breast, and exists even amongst prophets and sages. And

thus to condemn thousands and ten thousands of human beings to the

dull monotony of the cloister, granting that they strictly keep their

religious vows, is more than sufficient to seriously interfere with

the equilibrium of the universe. Hence floods, famines, and the like

catastrophes; to say nothing of the misdeeds of the nuns in question.

* * * * *

“When I passed through Soochow and Hangchow I saw many disgraceful

advertisements that quite took my breath away with their barefaced

depravity; and the people there told me that these atrocities were much

practised by the denizens of the cloister, which term is simply another

name for houses of ill-fame. These cloister folk do a great deal of

mischief amongst the populace, wasting the substance of some, and

robbing others of their good name.”

* * * * *

The _Ming Chi Kang Mu_, or History of the Ming Dynasty, which had been

begun in 1689 by a commission of fifty-eight scholars, was laid before

the Emperor only in 1742 by CHANG T‘ING-YÜ (1670-1756), a Minister of

State and a most learned writer, joint editor of the Book of Rites,

Ritual of the Chou Dynasty, the Thirteen Classics, the Twenty-four

Histories, Thesaurus of Phraseology, Encyclopædia of Quotations, the

Concordance to Literature, &c. This work, however, did not meet with

the Imperial approval, and for it was substituted the _T‘ung Chien Kang

Mu San Pien_, first published in 1775. Among the chief collaborators

of Chang T‘ing-yü should be mentioned O-ÊRH-T‘AI, the Mongol (_d._

1745), and CHU SHIH (1666-1736), both of whom were also voluminous

contributors to classical literature.

These were followed by CH’ÊN HUNG-MOU (1695-1771), who, besides

being the author of brilliant State papers, was a commentator on

the Classics, dealing especially with the Four Books, a writer on

miscellaneous topics, and a most successful administrator. He rose to

high office, and was noted for always having his room hung round with

maps of the province in which he was serving, so that he might become

thoroughly familiar with its geography. He was dismissed, however, from

the important post of Viceroy of the Two Kuang for alleged incapacity

in dealing with a plague of locusts.

* * * * *

[Sidenote: YÜAN MEI]

YÜAN MEI (1715-1797) is beyond all question the most popular

writer of modern times. At the early age of nine he was inspired with a

deep love for poetry, and soon became an adept at the art. Graduating

in 1739, he was shortly afterwards sent to Kiangnan, and presently

became magistrate at Nanking, where he greatly distinguished himself

by the vigour and justice of his administration. A serious illness

kept him for some time unemployed; and when on recovery he was sent

into Shansi, he managed to quarrel with the Viceroy. At the early age

of forty he retired from the official arena and led a life of lettered

ease in his beautiful garden at Nanking. His letters, which have been

published under the title of _Hsiao Ts‘ang Shan Fang Ch‘ih Tu_, are

extremely witty and amusing, and at the same time are models of style.

Many of the best are a trifle coarse, sufficiently so to rank them with

some of the eighteenth-century literature on this side of the globe;

the salt of all loses its savour in translation. The following are

specimens:--

“I have received your letter congratulating me on my present

prosperity, and am very much obliged for the same.

“At the end of the letter, however, you mention that you have a

tobacco-pouch for me, which shall be sent on as soon as I forward you

a stanza. Surely this reminds one of the evil days of the Chous and

the Chêngs, when each State took pledges from the other. It certainly

is not in keeping with the teaching of the sages, viz., that friends

should be the first to give. Why then do you neglect that teaching for

the custom of a degraded age?

“If for a tobacco-pouch you insist upon having a stanza, for a hat or a

pair of boots you would want at least a poem; while your brother might

send me a cloak or a coat, and expect to get a whole epic in return! In

this way, the prosperity on which you congratulate me would not count

for much.

“Shun Yü-t‘an of old sacrificed a bowl of rice and a perch to get a

hundred waggons full of grain; he offered little and he wanted much.

And have you not heard how a thousand pieces of silk were given for a

single word? two beautiful girls for a stanza?--compared with which

your tobacco-pouch seems small indeed. It is probably because you are

a military man, accustomed to drill soldiers and to reward them with

a silver medal when they hit the mark, that you have at last come to

regard this as the proper treatment of an old friend.

“Did not Mencius forbid us to presume upon anything adventitious? And

if friends may not presume upon their worth or position, how much less

upon a tobacco-pouch? For a tobacco-pouch, pretty as it may be, is but

the handiwork of a waiting-maid; while my verses, poor as they may be,

are the outcome of my intellectual powers. So that to exchange the

work of a waiting-maid’s fingers for the work of my brain, is a great

compliment to the waiting-maid, but a small one to me. Not so if you

yourself had cast away spear and sword, and grasping the needle and

silk, had turned me out a tobacco-pouch of your own working. Then, had

you asked me even for ten stanzas, I would freely have given them. But

a great general knows his own strength as well as the enemy’s, and it

would hardly be proper for me to lure you from men’s to women’s work,

and place on your head a ribboned cap. How then do you venture to

treat me as Ts‘ao Ts‘ao [on his death-bed treated his concubines], by

bestowing on me an insignificant tobacco-pouch?

“Having nothing better to do, I have amused myself with these few lines

at your expense. If you take them ill, of course I shall never get

the pouch. But if you can mend your evil ways, then hurry up with the

tobacco-pouch and trust to your luck for the verse.”

A friend had sent Yüan Mei a letter with the very un-Chinese present

of a crab and a duck. Two ducks and a crab would have been more

conventional, or even two crabs and a duck. And by some mistake or

other, the crab arrived by itself. Hence the following banter in

reply:--

“To convey a man to a crab is very pleasant for the man, but to convey

a crab to a man is pleasant for his whole family. And I know that this

night my two sons will often bend their arms like crabs’ claws [_i.e._

in the form of the Chinese salute], wishing you an early success in

life.

“In rhyme no duplicates [that is, don’t rhyme again the same sound],

and don’t use two sentences where one will do [in composition]. Besides

which, the fact that the duck has not yet turned up shows that you

understand well how to ‘do one thing at a time.’ Not to mention

that you cause an old gobbler like myself to stretch out his neck in

anticipation of something else to come.

“You remember how the poet Shên beat his rival, all because of that one

verse--

‘_Sigh not for the sinking moon,

The jewel lamp will follow soon._’

Well, your crab is like the sinking moon, while the duck reminds me of

the jewel lamp; from which we may infer that you will meet with the

same good luck as Shên.

“Again, a crab, even in the presence of the King of the Ocean, has to

travel aslant; by which same token I trust that by and by your fame

will travel aslant the habitable globe.”

Yüan Mei’s poetry is much admired and widely read. He is one of the

few, very few, poets who have flourished under Manchu rule. Here are

some sarcastic lines by him:--

“_I’ve ever thought it passing odd

How all men reverence some God,

And wear their lives out for his sake

And bow their heads until they ache.

’Tis clear to me the Gods are made

Of the same stuff as wind or shade....

Ah! if they came to every caller,

I’d be the very loudest bawler!_”

He could be pathetic enough at times, as he showed in his elegy on a

little five-year-old daughter, recalling her baby efforts with the

paint-brush, and telling how she cut out clothes from paper, or sat

and watched her father engaged in composition. He was also, like all

Chinese poets, an ardent lover of nature, and a winter plum-tree in

flower, or a gust of wind scattering dead leaves, would set all his

poetic fibres thrilling again. It sounds like an anti-climax to add

that this brilliant essayist, letter-writer, and composer of finished

verse owes perhaps the chief part of his fame to a cookery-book. Yet

such is actually the case. Yüan Mei was the Brillat-Savarin of China,

and in the art of cooking China stands next to France. His cookery-book

is a gossipy little work, written, as only such a scholar could write

it, in a style which at once invests the subject with dignity and

interest.

“Everything,” says Yüan Mei, in his opening chapter, “has its

own original constitution, just as each man has certain natural

characteristics. If a man’s natural abilities are of a low order,

Confucius and Mencius themselves would teach him to no purpose. And if

an article of food is in itself bad, not even I-ya [the Soyer of China]

could cook a flavour into it.

“A ham is a ham; but in point of goodness two hams will be as widely

separated as sky and sea. A mackerel is a mackerel; but in point of

excellence two mackerel will differ as much as ice and live coals.

And other things in the same way. So that the credit of a good dinner

should be divided between the cook and the steward forty per cent. to

the steward, and sixty per cent. to the cook.

“Cookery is like matrimony. Two things served together should match.

Clear should go with clear, thick with thick, hard with hard, and soft

with soft. I have known people mix grated lobster with birds’-nests,

and mint with chicken or pork!

“The cooks of to-day think nothing of mixing in one soup the meat of

chicken, duck, pig, and goose. But these chickens, ducks, pigs, and

geese have doubtless souls. And these souls will most certainly file

plaints in the next world on the way they have been treated in this.

A good cook will use plenty of different dishes. Each article of food

will be made to exhibit its own characteristics, while each made dish

will be characterised by one dominant flavour. Then the palate of the

gourmand will respond without fail, and the flowers of the soul blossom

forth.

“Let salt fish come first, and afterwards food of more negative

flavour. Let the heavy precede the light. Let dry dishes precede those

with gravy. No flavour must dominate. If a guest eats his fill of

savouries, his stomach will be fatigued. Salt flavours must be relieved

by bitter or hot tasting foods, in order to restore the palate. Too

much wine will make the stomach dull. Sour or sweet food will be

required to rouse it again into vigour.

“In winter we should eat beef and mutton. In summer, dried and

preserved meats. As for condiments, mustard belongs specially to

summer, pepper to winter.

“Don’t cut bamboo-shoots [the Chinese equivalent of asparagus] with an

oniony knife.... A good cook frequently wipes his knife, frequently

changes his cloth, frequently scrapes his board, and frequently washes

his hands. If smoke or ashes from his pipe, perspiration-drops from his

head, insects from the wall, or smuts from the saucepan get mixed up

with the food, though he were a very _chef_ among _chefs_, yet would

men hold their noses and decline.

“Don’t make your thick sauces greasy nor your clear ones tasteless.

Those who want grease can eat fat pork, while a drink of water is

better than something which tastes of nothing at all.... Don’t

over-salt your soups; for salt can be added to taste, but can never be

taken away.

“_Don’t eat with your ears_; by which I mean do not aim at having

extraordinary out-of-the-way foods, just to astonish your guests; for

that is to eat with your ears, not with the mouth. Bean-curd, if good,

is actually nicer than birds’-nest; and better than sea-slugs, which

are not first-rate, is a dish of bamboo shoots....

“The chicken, the pig, the fish, and the duck, these are the four

heroes of the table. Sea-slugs and birds’-nests have no characteristic

flavours of their own. They are but usurpers in the house. I once dined

with a friend who gave us birds’-nest in bowls more like vats, holding

each about four ounces of the plain-boiled article. The other guests

applauded vigorously; but I smiled and said, ‘_I came here to eat

birds’-nest, not to take delivery of it wholesale._’

“_Don’t eat with your eyes_; by which I mean do not cover the table

with innumerable dishes and multiply courses indefinitely. For this is

to eat with the eyes, and not with the mouth.

“Just as a calligraphist should not overtire his hand nor a poet his

brain, so a good cook cannot possibly turn out in one day more than

four or five distinct _plats_. I used to dine with a merchant friend

who would put on no less than three removes [sets of eight dishes

served separately], and sixteen kinds of sweets, so that by the time

we had finished we had got through a total of some forty courses. My

host gloried in all this, but when I got home I used to have a bowl of

rice-gruel. I felt so hungry.

“To know right from wrong, a man must be sober. And only a sober man

can distinguish good flavours from bad. It has been well said that

words are inadequate to describe the _nuances_ of taste. How much less

then must a stuttering sot be able to appreciate them!

“I have often seen votaries of guess-fingers swallow choice food as

though so much sawdust, their minds being preoccupied with their game.

Now I say eat first and drink afterwards. By these means the result

will be successful in each direction.”

Yüan Mei also protests against the troublesome custom of pressing

guests to eat, and against the more foolish one of piling up choice

pieces on the little saucers used as plates, and even putting them into

the guests’ mouths, as if they were children or brides, too shy to help

themselves.

There was a man in Ch‘ang-an, he tells us, who was very fond of giving

dinners; but the food was atrocious. One day a guest threw himself on

his knees in front of this gentleman and said, “Am I not a friend of

yours?”

“You are indeed,” replied his host.

“Then I must ask of you a favour,” said the guest, “and you must grant

it before I rise from my knees.”

“Well, what is it?” inquired his host in astonishment.

“Never to invite me to dinner any more!” cried the guest; at which the

whole party burst into a loud roar of laughter.

“Into no department of life,” says Yüan Mei, “should indifference be

allowed to creep; into none less than into the domain of cookery.

Cooks are but mean fellows; and if a day is passed without either

rewarding or punishing them, that day is surely marked by negligence

or carelessness on their part. If badly cooked food is swallowed in

silence, such neglect will speedily become a habit. Still, mere rewards

and punishments are of no use. If a dish is good, attention should be

called to the why and the wherefore. If bad, an effort should be made

to discover the cause of the failure.

“I am not much of a wine-drinker, but this makes me all the more

particular. Wine is like scholarship: it ripens with age; and it is

best from a fresh-opened jar. The top of the wine-jar, the bottom of

the teapot, as the saying has it.”

* * * * *

[Sidenote: CH’ÊN HAO-TZŬ]

In 1783 CH’ÊN HAO-TZŬ, who lived beside the Western Lake at

Hangchow, and called himself the Flower Hermit, published a gossipy

little work on gardening and country pursuits, under the title of “The

Mirror of Flowers.” It is the type of a class often to be seen in the

hands of Chinese readers. The preface was written by himself:--

“From my youth upwards I have cared for nothing save books and flowers.

Twenty-eight thousand days have passed over my head, the greater part

of which has been spent in poring over old records, and the remainder

in enjoying myself in my garden among plants and birds.”

The Chinese excel in horticulture, and the passionate love of flowers

which prevails among all classes is quite a national characteristic.

A Chinaman, however, has his own particular standpoint. The vulgar

nosegay or the plutocratic bouquet would have no charms for him. He

can see, with satisfaction, only one flower at a time. His best vases

are made to hold a single spray, and large vases usually have covers

perforated so as to isolate each specimen. A primrose by the river’s

brim would be to him a complete poem. If condemned to a sedentary

life, he likes to have a flower by his side on the table. He draws

enjoyment, even inspiration, from its petals. He will take a flower out

for a walk, and stop every now and again to consider the loveliness of

its growth. So with birds. It is a common thing on a pleasant evening

to meet a Chinaman carrying his bird-cage suspended from the end of a

short stick. He will stop at some pleasant corner outside the town, and

listen with rapture to the bird’s song. But to the preface. Our author

goes on to say that in his hollow bamboo pillow he always keeps some

work on his favourite subject.

“People laugh at me, and say that I am cracked on flowers and a

bibliomaniac; but surely study is the proper occupation of a literary

man, and as for gardening, that is simply a rest for my brain and a

relaxation in my declining years. What does T‘ao Ch‘ien say?--

‘_Riches and rank I do not love,

I have no hopes of heaven above._’ ...

Besides, it is only in hours of leisure that I devote myself to the

cultivation of flowers.”

Ch‘ên Hao-tzŭ then runs through the four seasons, showing how each has

its especial charm, contributing to the sum of those pure pleasures

which are the best antidote against the ills of old age. He then

proceeds to deal with times and seasons, showing what to do under

each month, precisely as our own garden-books do. After that come

short chapters on all the chief trees, shrubs, and plants of China,

with hints how to treat them under diverse circumstances, the whole

concluding with a separate section devoted to birds, animals, fishes,

and insects. Among these are to be found the crane, peacock, parrot,

thrush, kite, quail, mainah, swallow, deer, hare, monkey, dog, cat,

squirrel, goldfish--first mentioned by Su Shih,

“_Upon the bridge the livelong day

I stand and watch the goldfish play_”--

bee, butterfly, glowworm, &c. Altogether there is much to be learnt

from this Chinese White of Selborne, and the reader lays down the book

feeling that the writer is not far astray when he says, “If a home has

not a garden and an old tree, I see not whence the everyday joys of

life are to come.”

* * * * *

[Sidenote: CHAO I]

CHAO I (1727-1814) is said to have known several tens of

characters when only three years old,--the age at which John Stuart

Mill believed that he began Greek. It was not, however, until 1761

that he took his final degree, appearing second on the list. He was

really first, but the Emperor put Wang Chieh over his head, in order to

encourage men from Shensi, to which province the latter belonged. That

Wang Chieh is remembered at all must be set down to the above episode,

and not to the two volumes of essays which he left behind him. Chao I

wrote a history of the wars of the present dynasty, a collection of

notes on the current topics of his day, historical critiques, and other

works. He was also a poet, contributing a large volume of verse, from

which the following sample of his art is taken:--

“_Man is indeed of heavenly birth,

Though seeming earthy of the earth;

The sky is but a denser pall

Of the thin air that covers all.

Just as this air, so is that sky;

Why call this low, and call that high?_

“_The dewdrop sparkles in the cup--

Note how the eager flowers spring up;

Confine and crib them in a room,

They fade and find an early doom.

So ’tis that at our very feet

The earth and the empyrean meet._

“_The babe at birth points heavenward too,

Enveloped by the eternal blue;

As fishes in the water bide,

So heaven surrounds on every side;

Yet men sin on, because they say

Great God in heaven is far away._”

The “stop short” was a great favourite with him. His level may be

gauged by the following specimen, written as he was setting out to a

distant post in the north:--

“_See where, like specks of spring-cloud in the sky,

On their long northern route the wild geese fly;

Together o’er the River we will roam....

Ah! they go towards, and I away from home!_”

Here is another in a more humorous vein:--

“_The rain had been raining the whole of the day,

And I had been straining and working away....

What’s the trouble, O cook? You’ve no millet in store?

Well, I’ve written a book which will buy us some more._”

[Sidenote: FANG WEI-I]

Taken altogether, the poetry of the present dynasty, especially that

of the nineteenth century, must be written down as nothing more

than artificial verse, with the art not even concealed, but grossly

patent to the dullest observer. A collection of extracts from about

2000 representative poets was published in 1857, but it is very dull

reading, any thoughts, save the most commonplace, being few and far

between. As in every similar collection, a place is assigned to

poetesses, of whom FANG WEI-I would perhaps be a favourable

example. She came from a good family, and was but newly married to

a promising young official when the latter died, and left her a

sorrowing and childless widow. Light came to her in the darkness, and

disregarding the entreaties of her father and mother, she decided to

become a nun, and devote the remainder of her life to the service of

Buddha. These are her farewell lines:--

“_’Tis common talk how partings sadden life:

There are no partings for us after death.

But let that pass; now no more a wife,

Will face fate’s issues to my latest breath._

“_The north wind whistles thro’ the mulberry grove,

Daily and nightly making moan for me;

I look up to the shifting sky above,

No little prattler smiling on my knee._

“_Life’s sweetest boon is after all to die....

My weeping parents still are loth to yield;

Yet east and west the callow fledglings fly,

And autumn’s herbage wanders far afield._

“_What will life bring to me an I should stay?

What will death bring to me an I should go?

These thoughts surge through me in the light of day,

And make me conscious that at last I know._”

One of the greatest of the scholars of the present dynasty was YÜAN

YÜAN (1764-1849). He took his third degree in 1789, and at the

final examination the aged Emperor Ch‘ien Lung was so struck with

his talents that he exclaimed, “Who would have thought that, after

passing my eightieth year, I should find another such man as this one?”

He then held many high offices in succession, including the post of

Governor of Chehkiang, in which he operated vigorously against the

Annamese pirates and Ts‘ai Ch‘ien, established the tithing system,

colleges, schools, and soup-kitchens, besides devoting himself to the

preservation of ancient monuments. As Viceroy of the Two Kuang, he

frequently came into collision with British interests, and did his best

to keep a tight hand over the barbarian merchants. He was a voluminous

writer on the Classics, astronomy, archæology, &c., and various

important collections were produced under his patronage. Among these

may be mentioned the _Huang Ch‘ing Ching Chieh_, containing upwards

of 180 separate works, and the _Ch‘ou Jen Chuan_, a biographical

dictionary of famous mathematicians of all ages, including Euclid,

Newton, and Ricci, the Jesuit Father. He also published a Topography

of Kuangtung, specimens of the compositions of more than 5000 poets of

Kiangsi, and a large collection of inscriptions on bells and vases.

He also edited the Catalogue of the Imperial Library, the large

encyclopædia known as the _T‘ai P‘ing Yü Lan_, and other important

works.

* * * * *

[Sidenote: THE KAN YING P‘IEN]

Two religious works, associated with the Taoism of modern days, which

have long been popular throughout China, may fitly be mentioned

here. They are not to be bought in shops, but can always be obtained

at temples, where large numbers are placed by philanthropists for

distribution gratis. The first is the _Kan Ying P‘ien_, or Book of

Rewards and Punishments, attributed by the foolish to Lao Tzŭ himself.

Its real date is quite unknown; moderate writers place it in the

Sung dynasty, but even that seems far too early. Although nominally

of Taoist origin, this work is usually edited in a very pronounced

Buddhist setting, the fact being that Taoism and Buddhism are now so

mixed up that it is impossible to draw any sharp line of demarcation

between the two. As Chu Hsi says, “Buddhism stole the best features

of Taoism, and Taoism stole the worst features of Buddhism; it is as

though the one stole a jewel from the other, and the loser recouped

the loss with a stone.” Prefixed to the _Kan Ying P‘ien_ will be found

Buddhist formulæ for cleansing the mouth and body before beginning

to read the text, and appeals to Maitrêya Buddha and Avalôkitêsvara.

Married women and girls are advised not to frequent temples to be a

spectacle for men. “If you must worship Buddha, worship the two living

Buddhas (parents) you have at home; and if you must burn incense, burn

it at the family altar.” We are further told that there is no time

at which this book may not be read; no place in which it may not be

read; and no person by whom it may not be read with profit. We are

advised to study it when fasting, and not necessarily to shout it

aloud, so as to be heard of men, but rather to ponder over it in the

heart. The text consists of a commination said to have been uttered by

Lao Tzŭ, and directed against evil-doers of all kinds. In the opening

paragraphs attention is drawn to various spiritual beings who note

down the good deeds and crimes of men, and lengthen or shorten their

lives accordingly. Then follows a long list of wicked acts which will

inevitably bring retribution in their train. These include the ordinary

offences recognised by moral codes all over the world, every form of

injustice and oppression, falsehood, and theft, together with not a few

others of a more venial character to Western minds. Among the latter

are birds’-nesting, stepping across food or human beings, cooking

with dirty firewood, spitting at shooting stars and pointing at the

rainbow, or even at the sun, moon, and stars. In all these cases,

periods will be cut off from the life of the offender, and if his life

is exhausted while any guilt still remains unexpiated, the punishment

due will be carried on to the account of his descendants.

[Sidenote: THE YÜ LI CH’AO CHUAN]

The second of the two works under consideration is the _Yü Li Ch‘ao

Chuan_, a description of the Ten Courts of Purgatory in the nether

world, through some or all of which every erring soul must pass before

being allowed to be born again into this world under another form, or

to be permanently transferred to the eternal bliss reserved for the

righteous alone.

In the Fifth Court, for instance, the sinners are hurried away by

bull-headed, horse-faced demons to a famous terrace, where their

physical punishments are aggravated by a view of their old homes:--

“This terrace is curved in front like a bow; it looks east, west, and

south. It is eighty-one _li_ from one extreme to the other. The back

part is like the string of a bow; it is enclosed by a wall of sharp

swords. It is 490 feet high; its sides are knife-blades; and the whole

is in sixty-three storeys. No good shade comes to this terrace; neither

do those whose balance of good and evil is exact. Wicked souls alone

behold their homes close by, and can see and hear what is going on.

They hear old and young talking together; they see their last wishes

disregarded and their instructions disobeyed. Everything seems to

have undergone a change. The property they scraped together with so

much trouble is dissipated and gone. The husband thinks of taking

another wife; the widow meditates second nuptials. Strangers are in

possession of the old estate; there is nothing to divide amongst the

children. Debts long since paid are brought again for settlement, and

the survivors are called upon to acknowledge claims upon the departed.

Debts owed are lost for want of evidence, with endless recriminations,

abuse, and general confusion, all of which falls upon the three

families of the deceased. They in their anger speak ill of him that is

gone. He sees his children become corrupt and his friends fall away.

Some, perhaps, for the sake of bygone times, may stroke the coffin and

let fall a tear, departing quickly with a cold smile. Worse than that,

the wife sees her husband tortured in the yamên; the husband sees his

wife victim to some horrible disease, lands gone, houses destroyed by

flood or fire, and everything in unutterable confusion--the reward of

former sins.”

The Sixth Court “is a vast, noisy Gehenna, many leagues in extent, and

around it are sixteen wards.

“In the first, the souls are made to kneel for long periods on iron

shot. In the second, they are placed up to their necks in filth. In the

third, they are pounded till the blood runs out. In the fourth, their

mouths are opened with iron pincers and filled full of needles. In the

fifth, they are bitten by rats. In the sixth, they are enclosed in a

net of thorns and nipped by locusts. In the seventh, they are crushed

to a jelly. In the eighth, their skin is lacerated and they are beaten

on the raw. In the ninth, their mouths are filled with fire. In the

tenth, they are licked by flames. In the eleventh, they are subjected

to noisome smells. In the twelfth, they are butted by oxen and trampled

on by horses. In the thirteenth, their hearts are scratched. In the

fourteenth, their heads are rubbed till their skulls come off. In the

fifteenth, they are chopped in two at the waist. In the sixteenth,

their skin is taken off and rolled up into spills.

“Those discontented ones who rail against heaven and revile earth, who

are always finding fault either with the wind, thunder, heat, cold,

fine weather, or rain; those who let their tears fall towards the

north; who steal the gold from the inside or scrape the gilding from

the outside of images; those who take holy names in vain, who show no

respect for written paper, who throw down dirt and rubbish near pagodas

or temples, who use dirty cook-houses and stoves for preparing the

sacrificial meats, who do not abstain from eating beef and dog-flesh;

those who have in their possession blasphemous or obscene books and

do not destroy them, who obliterate or tear books which teach man to

be good, who carve on common articles of household use the symbol of

the origin of all things, the Sun and Moon and Seven Stars, the Royal

Mother and the God of Longevity on the same article, or representations

of any of the Immortals; those who embroider the Svastika on

fancy-work, or mark characters on silk, satin, or cloth, on banners,

beds, chairs, tables, or any kind of utensil; those who secretly wear

clothes adorned with the dragon and the phœnix only to be trampled

under foot, who buy up grain and hold until the price is exorbitantly

high--all these shall be thrust into the great and noisy Gehenna, there

to be examined as to their misdeeds and passed accordingly into one of

the sixteen wards, whence, at the expiration of their time, they will

be sent for further questioning on to the Seventh Court.”

The Tenth Court deals with the final stage of transmigration previous

to rebirth in the world. It appears that in primeval ages men could

remember their former lives on earth even after having passed through

Purgatory, and that wicked persons often took advantage of such

knowledge. To remedy this, a Terrace of Oblivion was built, and all

shades are now sent thither, and are forced to drink the cup of

forgetfulness before they can be born again.

“Whether they swallow much or little it matters not; but sometimes

there are perverse devils who altogether refuse to drink. Then beneath

their feet sharp blades start up, and a copper tube is forced down

their throats, by which means they are compelled to swallow some. When

they have drunk, they are raised by the attendants and escorted back by

the same path. They are next pushed on to the Bitter Bamboo floating

bridge, with torrents of rushing red water on either side. Half-way

across they perceive written in large characters on a red cliff on the

opposite side the following lines:--

“_To be a man is easy, but to act up to one’s responsibilities as such

is hard;

Yet to be a man once again is perhaps harder still._

“_For those who would be born again in some happy state there is no

great difficulty;

It is only necessary to keep mouth and heart in harmony._”

“When the shades have read these words, they try to jump on shore, but

are beaten back into the water by two huge devils. One has on a black

official hat and embroidered clothes; in his hand he holds a paper

pencil, and over his shoulder he carries a sharp sword. Instruments of

torture hang at his waist; fiercely he glares out of his large round

eyes and laughs a horrid laugh. His name is Short-Life. The other has a

dirty face smeared with blood; he has on a white coat, an abacus in his

hand, and a rice-sack over his shoulder. Around his neck hangs a string

of paper money; his brow contracts hideously and he utters long sighs.

His name is They-have-their-Reward, and his duty is to push the shades

into the red water. The wicked and foolish rejoice at the prospect of

being born once more as human beings, but the better shades weep and

mourn that in life they did not lay up a store of virtuous acts, and

thus pass away from the state of mortals for ever. Yet they all rush

on to birth like an infatuated or drunken crowd, and again, in their

new childhood, hanker after forbidden flavours. Then, regardless of

consequences, they begin to destroy life, and thus forfeit all claims

to the mercy and compassion of God. They take no thought as to the end

that must overtake them; and, finally, they bring themselves once more

to the same horrid plight.”

FOOTNOTES:

[46] A Solomonic judge under the Sung dynasty.

[47] “In hearing litigations, I am like any other body. What is

necessary is to cause the people to have no litigations” (Legge).

CHAPTER IV

WALL LITERATURE--JOURNALISM--WIT AND HUMOUR--PROVERBS AND MAXIMS

The death of Yüan Yüan in 1849 brings us down to the period when

China began to find herself for the first time face to face with

the foreigner. The opening of five ports in 1842 to comparatively

unrestricted trade, followed by more ports and right of residence in

Peking from 1860, created points of contact and brought about foreign

complications to which the governors of China had hitherto been unused.

A Chinese Horace might well complain that the audacious brood of

England have by wicked fraud introduced journalism into the Empire, and

that evils worse than consumption and fevers have followed in its train.

[Sidenote: PROCLAMATIONS]

From time immemorial wall-literature has been a feature in the life

of a Chinese city surpassing in extent and variety that of any other

nation, and often playing a part fraught with much danger to the

community at large. Generally speaking, the literature of the walls

covers pretty much the same ground as an ordinary English newspaper,

from the “agony” column downwards. For, mixed up with notices of lost

property, consisting sometimes of human beings, and advertisements

of all kinds of articles of trade, such as one would naturally look

for in the handbill literature of any city, there are to be found

announcements of new and startling remedies for various diseases or of

infallible pills for the cure of depraved opium-smokers, long lists

of the names of subscribers to some coming festival or to the pious

restoration of a local temple, sermons without end directed against the

abuse of written paper, and now and then against female infanticide,

or Cumming-like warnings of an approaching millennium, at which the

wicked will receive the reward of their crimes according to the

horrible arrangements of the Buddhist-Taoist purgatory. Occasionally an

objectionable person will be advised through an anonymous placard to

desist from a course which is pointed out as offensive, and similarly,

but more rarely, the action of an official will be sometimes severely

criticised or condemned. Official proclamations on public business can

hardly be classed as wall literature, except perhaps when, as is not

uncommon, they are written in doggerel verse, with a view to appealing

more directly to the illiterate reader. The following proclamation

establishing a registry office for boats at Tientsin will give an idea

of these queer documents, the only parallel to which in the West might

be found in the famous lines issued by the Board of Trade for the use

of sea-captains:--

“_Green to green, and red to red,

Perfect safety, go ahead_,” _&c._

The object of this registry office was ostensibly to save the poor

boatman from being unfairly dealt with when impressed at nominal wages

for Government service, but really to enable the officials to know

exactly where to lay their hands on boats when required:--

“_A busy town is Tientsin,

A land and water thoroughfare;

Traders, as thick as clouds, flock in;

Masts rise in forests everywhere._

“_The official’s chair, the runner’s cap,

Flit past like falling rain or snow.

And, musing on the boatman’s hap,

His doubtful shares of weal and woe,_

“_I note the vagabonds who live

On squeezes from his hard-earned due;

And, boatmen, for your sakes I give

A public register to you._

“_Go straightway there, your names inscribe

And on the books a record raise;

None then dare claim the wicked bribe,

Or waste your time in long delays._

“_The services your country claims

Shall be performed in turn by all

The muster of the boatmen’s names

Be published on the Yamên wall._

“_Once your official business done,

Work for yourselves as best you can;

Let out your boats to any one;

I’ll give a pass to every man._

“_And lest your lot be hard to bear

Official pay shall ample be;

Let all who notice aught unfair

Report the case at once to me._

“_The culprit shall be well deterred

In future, if his guilt is clear;

For times are hard, as I have heard,

And food and clothing getting dear._

“_Thus, in compassion for your woe,

The scales of Justice in my hand,

I save you from the Yamên foe,

The barrack-soldiers’ threat’ning band._

“_No longer will they dare to play

Their shameful tricks, of late revealed;

The office only sends away

Boats--and on orders duly sealed._

“_One rule will thus be made for all,

And things may not go much amiss;

Ye boatmen, ’tis on you I call

To show your gratitude for this._

“_But lest there be who ignorance plead,

I issue this in hope to awe

Such fools as think they will succeed

By trying to evade the law._

“_For if I catch them, no light fate

Awaits them that unlucky day;

So from this proclamation’s date

Let all in fear and dread obey._”

It is scarcely necessary to add that wall literature has often been

directed against foreigners, and especially against missionaries. The

penalties, however, for posting anonymous placards are very severe,

and of late years the same end has been more effectually attained by

the circulation of abusive fly-sheets, often pictorial and always

disgusting.

Journalism has proved to be a terrible thorn in the official side. It

was first introduced into China under the ægis of an Englishman who was

the nominal editor of the _Shên Pao_ or _Shanghai News_, still a very

influential newspaper. For a long time the authorities fought to get

rid of this objectionable daily, which now and again told some awkward

truths, and contained many ably written articles by first-class native

scholars. Eventually an official organ was started in opposition, and

other papers have since appeared. An illustrated Chinese weekly made

a good beginning in Shanghai, but unfortunately it soon drifted into

superstition, intolerance, and vulgarity.

* * * * *

[Sidenote: TRANSLATIONS]

Attempts have been made to provide the Chinese with translations

of noted European works, and among those which have been produced

may be mentioned “The Pilgrim’s Progress,” with illustrations, the

various characters being in Chinese dress; Mr. Herbert Spencer’s

“Education,” the very first sentence in which is painfully misrendered;

the “Adventures of Baron Munchausen,” and others. In every case save

one these efforts have been rejected by the Chinese on the ground of

inferior style. The exception was a translation of Æsop’s Fables,

published in 1840 by Robert Thom as rendered into Chinese by an eminent

native scholar. This work attracted much attention among the people

generally; so much so, that the officials took alarm and made strenuous

efforts to suppress it. Recent years have witnessed the publication

in Chinese of “Vathek,” in reference to which a literate of standing

offered the following criticism:--“The style in which this work is

written is not so bad, but the subject-matter is of no account.” The

fact is, that to satisfy the taste of the educated Chinese reader the

very first requisite is style. As has been seen in the case of the

_Liao Chai_, the Chinese will read almost anything, provided it is set

in a faultless frame. They will not look at anything emanating from

foreign sources in which this greatest desideratum has been neglected.

The present age has seen the birth of no great original writer in any

department of literature, nor the production of any great original work

worthy to be smeared with cedar-oil for the delectation of posterity.

It is customary after the death, sometimes during the life, of any

leading statesman to publish a collection of his memorials to the

throne, with possibly a few essays and some poems. Such have a brief

_succès d’estime_, and are then used by binders for thickening the

folded leaves of some masterpiece of antiquity. Successful candidates

for the final degree usually print their winning essays, and sometimes

their poems, chiefly for distribution among friends. Several diaries

of Ministers to foreign countries and similar books have appeared

in recent years, recording the astonishment of the writers at the

extraordinary social customs which prevail among the barbarians. But

nowadays a Chinaman who wishes to read a book does not sit down and

write one. He is too much oppressed by the vast dimensions of his

existing literature, and by the hopelessness of rivalling, and still

more by the hopelessness of surpassing, those immortals who have gone

before.

[Sidenote: WIT AND HUMOUR]

It would be obviously unfair to describe the Chinese people as wanting

in humour simply because they are tickled by jests which leave us

comparatively unmoved. Few of our own most amusing stories will stand

conversion into Chinese terms. The following are specimens of classical

humour, being such as might be introduced into any serious biographical

notice of the individuals concerned.

Ch‘un-yü K‘un (4th cent. B.C.) was the wit already mentioned,

who tried to entangle Mencius in his talk. On one occasion, when

the Ch‘u State was about to attack the Ch‘i State, he was ordered

by the Prince of Ch‘i, who was his father-in-law, to proceed to the

Chao State and ask that an army might be sent to their assistance;

to which end the Prince supplied him with 100 lbs. of silver and ten

chariots as offerings to the ruler of Chao. At this Ch‘un-yü laughed

so immoderately that he snapped the lash of his cap; and when the

Prince asked him what was the joke, he said, “As I was coming along

this morning, I saw a husbandman sacrificing a pig’s foot and a single

cup of wine; after which he prayed, saying, ‘O God, make my upper

terraces fill baskets and my lower terraces fill carts; make my fields

bloom with crops and my barns burst with grain!’ And I could not help

laughing at a man who offered so little and wanted so much.” The Prince

took the hint, and obtained the assistance he required.

T‘ao Ku (A.D. 902-970) was an eminent official whose name

is popularly known in connection with the following repartee. Having

ordered a newly-purchased waiting-maid to get some snow and make tea in

honour of the Feast of Lanterns, he asked her, somewhat pompously, “Was

that the custom in your former home?” “Oh, no,” the girl replied; “they

were a rough lot. They just put up a gold-splashed awning, and had a

little music and some old wine.”

Li Chia-ming (10th cent. A.D.) was a wit at the Court of

the last ruler of the T‘ang dynasty. On one occasion the latter drew

attention to some gathering clouds which appeared about to bring

rain. “They may come,” said Li Chia-ming, “but they will not venture

to enter the city.” “Why not?” asked the Prince. “Because,” replied

the wit, “the octroi is so high.” Orders were thereupon issued that

the duties should be reduced by one-half. On another occasion the

Prince was fishing with some of his courtiers, all of whom managed to

catch something, whereas he himself, to his great chagrin, had not a

single bite. Thereupon Li Chia-ming took a pen and wrote the following

lines:--

“_’Tis rapture in the warm spring days to drop the tempting fly

In the green pool where deep and still the darkling waters lie;

And if the fishes dare not touch the bait your Highness flings,

They know that only dragons are a fitting sport for kings._”

Liu Chi (11th cent. A.D.) was a youth who had gained some

notoriety by his fondness for strange phraseology, which was much

reprobated by the great Ou-yang Hsiu. When the latter was Grand

Examiner, one of the candidates sent in a doggerel triplet as follows:--

“_The universe is in labour,

All things are produced,

And among them the Sage._”

“This must be Liu Chi,” cried Ou-yang, and ran a red-ink pen through

the composition, adding these two lines:--

“_The undergraduate jokes,

The examiner ploughs._”

Later on, about the year 1060, Ou-yang was very much struck by the

essay of a certain candidate, and placed him first on the list. When

the names were read out, he found that the first man was Liu Chi, who

had changed his name to Liu Yün.

Chang Hsüan-tsu was a wit of the Han dynasty. When he was only eight

years old, some one laughed at him for having lost several teeth, and

said, “What are those dog-holes in your mouth for?” “They are there,”

replied Chang, “to let puppies like you run in and out.”

* * * * *

Collections of wit and humour of the Joe Miller type are often to

be seen in the hands of Chinese readers, and may be bought at any

bookstall. Like many novels of the cheap and worthless class, not to be

mentioned with the masterpieces of fiction described in this volume,

these collections are largely unfit for translation. All literature in

China is pure. Novels and stories are not classed as literature; the

authors have no desire to attach their names to such works, and the

consequence is a great falling off from what may be regarded as the

national standard. Even the _Hung Lou Mêng_ contains episodes which mar

to a considerable extent the beauty of the whole. One excuse is that it

is a novel of real life, and to omit, therefore, the ordinary frailties

of mortals would be to produce an incomplete and inadequate picture.

[Sidenote: THE HSIAO LIN KUANG CHI]

The following are a few specimens of humorous anecdotes taken from the

_Hsiao Lin Kuang Chi_, a modern work in four small volumes, in which

the stories are classified under twelve heads, such as Arts, Women,

Priests:--

A bridegroom noticing deep wrinkles on the face of his bride, asked

her how old she was, to which she replied, “About forty-five or

forty-six.” “Your age is stated on the marriage contract,” he rejoined,

“as thirty-eight; but I am sure you are older than that, and you may

as well tell me the truth.” “I am really fifty-four,” answered the

bride. The bridegroom, however, was not satisfied, and determined to

set a trap for her. Accordingly he said, “Oh, by the by, I must just

go and cover up the salt jar, or the rats will eat every scrap of it.”

“Well, I never!” cried the bride, taken off her guard. “Here I’ve lived

sixty-eight years, and I never before heard of rats stealing salt.”

A woman who was entertaining a paramour during the absence of her

husband, was startled by hearing the latter knock at the house-door.

She hurriedly bundled the man into a rice-sack, which she concealed in

a corner of the room; but when her husband came in he caught sight of

it, and asked in a stern voice, “What have you got in that sack?” His

wife was too terrified to answer; and after an awkward pause a voice

from the sack was heard to say, “Only rice.”

A scoundrel who had a deep grudge against a wealthy man, sought out

a famous magician and asked for his help. “I can send demon soldiers

and secretly cut him off,” said the magician. “Yes, but his sons and

grandsons would inherit,” replied the other; “that won’t do.” “I can

draw down fire from heaven,” said the magician, “and burn his house and

valuables.” “Even then,” answered the man, “his landed property would

remain; so that won’t do.” “Oh,” cried the magician, “if your hate is

so deep as all that, I have something precious here which, if you can

persuade him to avail himself of it, will bring him and his to utter

smash.” He thereupon gave to his delighted client a tightly closed

package, which, on being opened, was seen to contain a pen. “What

spiritual power is there in this?” asked the man. “Ah!” sighed the

magician, “you evidently do not know how many have been brought to ruin

by the use of this little thing.”

A doctor who had mismanaged a case was seized by the family and tied

up. In the night he managed to free himself, and escaped by swimming

across a river. When he got home, he found his son, who had just begun

to study medicine, and said to him, “Don’t be in a hurry with your

books; the first and most important thing is to learn to swim.”

The King of Purgatory sent his lictors to earth to bring back some

skilful physician. “You must look for one,” said the King, “at whose

door there are no aggrieved spirits of disembodied patients.” The

lictors went off, but at the house of every doctor they visited there

were crowds of wailing ghosts hanging about. At last they found a

doctor at whose door there was only a single shade, and cried out,

“This man is evidently the skilful one we are in search of.” On

inquiry, however, they discovered that he had only started practice the

day before.

A general was hard pressed in battle and on the point of giving way,

when suddenly a spirit soldier came to his rescue and enabled him

to win a great victory. Prostrating himself on the ground, he asked

the spirit’s name. “I am the God of the Target,” replied the spirit.

“And how have I merited your godship’s kind assistance?” inquired the

general. “I am grateful to you,” answered the spirit, “because in your

days of practice you never once hit me.”

A portrait-painter, who was doing very little business, was advised by

a friend to paint a picture of himself and his wife, and to hang it out

in the street as an advertisement. This he did, and shortly afterwards

his father-in-law came along. Gazing at the picture for some time,

the latter at length asked, “Who is that woman?” “Why, that is your

daughter,” replied the artist. “Whatever is she doing,” again inquired

her father, “sitting there with that stranger?”

A man who had been condemned to wear the _cangue_, or wooden collar,

was seen by some of his friends. “What have you been doing,” they

asked, “to deserve this?” “Oh, nothing,” he replied; “I only picked up

an old piece of rope.” “And are you to be punished thus severely,” they

said, “for merely picking up an end of rope?” “Well,” answered the

man, “the fact is that there was a bullock tied to the other end.”

A man asked a friend to stay and have tea. Unfortunately there was

no tea in the house, so a servant was sent to borrow some. Before

the latter had returned the water was already boiling, and it became

necessary to pour in more cold water. This happened several times, and

at length the boiler was overflowing but no tea had come. Then the

man’s wife said to her husband, “As we don’t seem likely to get any

tea, you had better offer your friend a bath!”

A monkey, brought after death before the King of Purgatory, begged to

be reborn on earth as a man. “In that case,” said the King, “all the

hairs must be plucked out of your body,” and he ordered the attendant

demons to pull them out forthwith. At the very first hair, however, the

monkey screeched out, and said he could not bear the pain. “You brute!”

roared the King, “how are you to become a man if you cannot even part

with a single hair?”

A braggart chess-player played three games with a stranger and lost

them all. Next day a friend asked him how he had come off. “Oh,” said

he, “I didn’t win the first game, and my opponent didn’t lose the

second. As for the third, I wanted to draw it, but he wouldn’t agree.”

* * * * *

[Sidenote: PROVERBS]

The barest sketch of Chinese literature would hardly be complete

without some allusion to its proverbs and maxims. These are not only

to be found largely scattered throughout every branch of writing,

classical and popular, but may also be studied in collections,

generally under a metrical form. Thus the _Ming Hsien Chi_, to take

one example, which can be purchased anywhere for about a penny,

consists of thirty pages of proverbs and the like, arranged in

antithetical couplets of five, six, and seven characters to each line.

Children are made to learn these by heart, and ordinary grown-up

Chinamen may be almost said to think in proverbs. There can be no doubt

that to the foreigner a large store of proverbs, committed to memory

and judiciously introduced, are a great aid to successful conversation.

These are a few taken from an inexhaustible supply, omitting to a great

extent such as find a ready equivalent in English:--

Deal with the faults of others as gently as with your own.

By many words wit is exhausted.

If you bow at all, bow low.

If you take an ox, you must give a horse.

A man thinks he knows, but a woman knows better.

Words whispered on earth sound like thunder in heaven.

If fortune smiles--who doesn’t? If fortune doesn’t--who does?

Moneyed men are always listened to.

Nature is better than a middling doctor.

Stay at home and reverence your parents; why travel afar to worship the

gods?

A bottle-nosed man may be a teetotaller, but no one will think so.

It is easier to catch a tiger than to ask a favour.

With money you can move the gods; without it, you can’t move a man.

Bend your head if the eaves are low.

Oblige, and you will be obliged.

Don’t put two saddles on one horse.

Armies are maintained for years, to be used on a single day.

In misfortune, gold is dull; in happiness, iron is bright.

More trees are upright than men.

If you fear that people will know, don’t do it.

Long visits bring short compliments.

If you are upright and without guile, what god need you pray to for

pardon?

Some study shows the need for more.

One kind word will keep you warm for three winters.

The highest towers begin from the ground.

No needle is sharp at both ends.

Straight trees are felled first.

No image-maker worships the gods. He knows what stuff they are made of.

Half an orange tastes as sweet as a whole one.

We love our own compositions, but other men’s wives.

Free sitters at the play always grumble most.

It is not the wine which makes a man drunk; it is the man himself.

Better a dog in peace than a man in war.

Every one gives a shove to the tumbling wall.

Sweep the snow from your own doorstep.

He who rides a tiger cannot dismount.

Politeness before force.

One dog barks at something, and the rest bark at him.

You can’t clap hands with one palm.

Draw your bow, but don’t shoot.

One more good man on earth is better than an extra angel in heaven.

Gold is tested by fire; man, by gold.

Those who have not tasted the bitterest of life’s bitters can never

appreciate the sweetest of life’s sweets.

Money makes a blind man see.

Man is God upon a small scale. God is man upon a large scale.

A near neighbour is better than a distant relation.

Without error there could be no such thing as truth.

BIBLIOGRAPHICAL NOTE

What foreign students have achieved in the department of Chinese

literature from the sixteenth century down to quite recent times is

well exhibited in the three large volumes which form the _Bibliotheca

Sinica_, or _Dictionnaire Bibliographique des Ouvrages rélatifs à

l’Empire chinois_, by Henri Cordier: Paris, Ernest Leroux, 1878; with

Supplément, 1895. This work is carried out with a fulness and accuracy

which leave nothing to be desired, and is essential to all systematic

workers in the Chinese field.

By far the most important of all books mentioned in the above

collection is a complete translation of the Confucian Canon by the late

Dr. James Legge of Aberdeen, under the general title of _The Chinese

Classics_. The publication of this work, which forms the greatest

existing monument of Anglo-Chinese scholarship, extended from 1861 to

1885.

The _Cursus Literaturæ Sinicæ_, by P. Zottoli, S.J., Shanghai,

1879-1882, is an extensive series of translations into Latin from all

branches of Chinese literature, and is designed especially for the use

of Roman Catholic missionaries (_neo-missionariis accommodatus_).

Another very important work, now rapidly approaching completion, is a

translation by Professor E. Chavannes, Collège de France, of the famous

history described in Book II. chap, iii., under the title of _Les

Mémoires Historiques de Se-ma Ts‘ien_, the first volume of which is

dated Paris, 1895.

_Notes on Chinese Literature_, by A. Wylie, Shanghai, 1867, contains

descriptive notices of about 2000 separate Chinese works, arranged

under Classics, History, Philosophy, and Belles Lettres, as in the

Imperial Catalogue (see p. 387). Considering the date at which it was

written, this book is entitled to rank among the highest efforts of the

kind. It is still of the utmost value to the student, though in need of

careful revision.

The following Catalogues of Chinese libraries in Europe have been

published in recent years:--

_Catalogue of Chinese Printed Books, Manuscripts, and Drawings in the

Library of the British Museum._ By R. K. Douglas, 1877.

_Catalogue of the Chinese Translation of the Buddhist Tripitaka._ By

Bunyio Nanjio, 1883.

_Catalogue of the Chinese Books and Manuscripts in the Library of Lord

Crawford, Haigh Hall, Wigan._ By J. P. Edmond, 1895.

_Catalogue of the Chinese and Manchu Books in the Library of the

University of Cambridge._ By H. A. Giles, 1898.

_Catalogue des Livres Chinois, Coréens, Japonais, etc._, in the

Bibliothèque Nationale. By Maurice Courant, Paris, 1900. (Fasc. i. pp.

vii., 148, has already appeared.)

* * * * *

The chief periodicals especially devoted to studies in Chinese

literature are as follows:--

_The Chinese Repository_, published monthly at Canton from May 1832 to

December 1851.

_The Journal of the North-China Branch of the Royal Asiatic Society_,

published annually at Shanghai from 1858 to 1884, and since that date

issued in fascicules at irregular intervals during each year.

_The China Review_, published every two months at Hong-Kong from June

1872 to the present date.

There is also the _Chinese Recorder_, which has existed since 1868,

and is now published every two months at Shanghai. This is, strictly

speaking, a missionary journal, but it often contains valuable papers

on Chinese literature and cognate subjects.

_Variétés Sinologiques_ is the title of a series of monographs on

various Chinese topics, written and published at irregular intervals

by the Jesuit Fathers at Shanghai since 1892, and distinguished by the

erudition and accuracy of all its contributors.

INDEX

Anæsthetics, 278

Analects, 32-35

Art of War, 43, 44

Bamboo Annals, 137

Barbarians, 400, 418, 428

Bashpa, 247

Beggar King, 291

Bibliography, 441

Biographies of Eminent Women, 92

Bôdhidharma, 115

Book of Changes, 9, 21-23

Book of History, 7, 9, 10, 12

Book of Odes, 12-21, 256

Book of Rewards and Punishments, 418

Book of Rites, 23, 24, 41

Buddhism, 110-116, 403, 419

Catalogue of the Imperial Library, 387, 418

_Chan Kuo Ts‘ê_, 92

CHANG CHI, 175, 176

CHANG CHIH-HO, 191

Chang Hsüan-tsu, 432

CHANG KUO-PIN, 274

CHANG PI, 209

CHANG T‘ING-YÜ, 404

CH’ANG CH’IEN, 158

Chao Ch‘i, 36

CHAO I, 415

CHAO LI-HUA, 333

Chao Ping, 247

CHAO TS’AI-CHI, 333

CH’AO TS’O, 80

CH’ÊN HAO-TZŬ, 413

CH’ÊN HUNG-MOU, 404

CH’ÊN LIN, 122

CH’ÊN P‘ÊNG-NIEN, 238

CH’ÊN T‘AO, 204

CH’ÊN T‘UAN, 233

CH’ÊN TZŬ-ANG, 147, 148

CHÊNG CH’IAO, 228

CHÊNG HSÜAN, 23, 95

CH’ÊNG HAO, 220, 236

CH’ÊNG I, 220

Chi Hsi, 127

CHI CHÜN-HSIANG, 269

_Chi Yün_, 238

Chia I, 54, 97

_Chia Yü_, 48

CH’IEN LUNG, 14, 228, 252, 387, 417

_Chin Ku Ch‘i Kuan_, 322

Ch‘in Kuei, 261

_Ch‘in P‘ing Mei_, 309

_Ching Hua Yüan_, 316-322

_Chou Li_, 24

CHOU TUN-I, 219

_Ch‘ou Jen Chuan_, 418

CHU HSI, 228-231

Chu-ko Liang, 277

CHU SHIH, 404

CHU YUNG-SHUN, 391

CH’Ü YÜAN, 50-53

CHUANG TZŬ, 60-68

_Ch‘un Ch‘iu_, 25

Ch‘un-yü K‘un, 430

_Chung Yung_, 41

Classic of Filial Piety, 48

Complete collection of the poetry of the T‘ang dynasty, 143

Concordances, 385, 386

CONFUCIUS, 7, 12, 13, 22, 24, 25, 28, 32-35, 41, 48

Cookery-book, 409

Criminal cases of Lan Ting-yüan, 395

Dictionaries, 109, 238, 385

Doctrine of the Mean, 41

Drama, 256-262, 325

Dream of the Red Chamber, 355

Encyclopædias, 239, 240, 386, 418

_Erh Tou Mei_, 324

_Erh Ya_, 44, 137

European works in Chinese, 429

FA HSIEN, 111-114

_Fa Yen_, 93

Family maxims, 392

Family sayings of Confucius, 48

FAN YEH, 138

FANG HSIAO-JU, 294-296

FANG SHU-SHAO, 333, 334

FANG WEI-I, 417

_Fang Yen_, 94

_Fêng Shên_, 310

FÊNG TAO, 210

First Emperor, 48, 77-79, 107, 108

Five Classics, 7-31

Flowery Ball, The, 264-268

Foreigners. See Barbarians

Four Books, 32-42

Fu Hsi, 21

FU I, 134

FU MI, 128

Gardening, 413

Gobharana, 110

Great Learning, 41

HAN FEI TZŬ, 70-72

Han Wên-Kung, 160

HAN YÜ, 160-163, 196-203, 355

Historical Record, 102

History, 102

History of the Ming Dynasty, 404

History of the Mongol Dynasty, 291

Ho Shang Kung, 95

_Hsi Hsiang Chi_, 273, 276

Hsi K‘ang, 126

_Hsi Yu Chi_, 281-287, 310

_Hsi Yüan Lu_, 241-243

HSIANG HSIU, 61, 127

_Hsiao Ching_, 48

_Hsiao Lin Kuang Chi_, 433-436

_Hsiao Ts‘ang Shan Fang Ch‘ih Tu_, 405

HSIAO T‘UNG, 139

HSIAO YEN, 133

Hsiao Yü, 134

HSIEH CHIN, 329-331

Hsieh Su-su, 332

HSIEH TAO-HÊNG, 133

HSÜ AN-CHÊN, 178

HSÜ HSIEH, 305-307

HSÜ KAN, 119

HSÜ KUANG-CH’I, 308

HSÜ SHÊN, 109

Hsüan Tsang, 115, 281, 284-287

HSÜN HSÜ, 137

HSÜN TZŬ, 47

Hua, Dr., 278-280

HUAI-NAN TZŬ, 72-74

HUANG-FU MI, 137

_Huang Ch‘ing Ching Chieh_, 418

HUANG T‘ING-CHIEN, 227, 228, 235, 236

Humour, Classical, 430

HUNG CHÜEH-FAN, 236

_Hung Lou Mêng_, 355, 433

Hung Mai, 83, 94

_I Ching_, 21

_I Li_, 25

Jesuit Fathers, 308

_Jih Chih Lu_, 391

Joining the Shirt, 274

Journalism, 428

_Kan Ying P‘ien_, 418

K‘ANG HSI, 385

_K‘ang Hsi Tzŭ Tien_, 385

KAO CHÜ-NIEN, 237

KAO TSÊ-CH’ÊNG, 326

Kao Tzŭ, 37-39

Kashiapmadanga, 110

KU CHIANG, 391

KU-LIANG, 29, 30

Ku Yen-wu, 391

Kuan Tzŭ, 44

_Kuang Yün_, 238

Kublai Khan, 247, 248

Kumarajiva, 114

KUNG-YANG, 29-31

K‘UNG AN-KUO, 80

K‘UNG CHI, 36, 41

K‘UNG JUNG, 120

K‘ung Tao-fu, 258

K‘UNG YING-TA, 190

KUO HSIANG, 61, 137

KUO P‘O, 45, 138

_Kuo Yü_, 26

LAN TING-YÜAN, 392

Lao Tan, 24

LAO TZŬ, 56-60

Lexicography, 190

Li Chi, 23, 25

Li Chia-ming, 431

LI FANG, 239, 240

LI HO, 175

LI HUA, 203, 204

LI LING, 81-89

LI PO, 151-156

LI PO-YAO, 190

_Li Sao_, 51

LI SHÊ, 177

LI SHIH-CHÊN, 307

LI SSŬ, 78, 79

LI YANG-PING, 190, 191

Li Ying, 120

_Liao Chai Chih I_, 338-355

_Lieh Kuo Chuan_, 310-315

LIEH TZŬ, 68-70

Lin Hsi-chung, 60, 83, 165

Little Learning, 230

Liu An, 72

LIU CH’Ê, 99-101

LIU CHÊNG, 122

LIU CHI, 252, 432

LIU HÊNG, 98

LIU HSIANG, 92, 97

LIU HSIN, 92

Liu Hsü, 212, 217

LIU LING, 125, 126

_Liu Shu Ku_, 239

LIU TSUNG-YÜAN, 160, 191-196

LIU YIN, 251, 252

Liu Yün, 432

LO KUAN-CHUNG, 277

LU WÊN-SHU, 89-92

LU YÜAN-LANG, 189

LÜ PU-WEI, 48

_Lü Shih Ch‘un Ch‘iu_, 48

_Lun Hêng_, 94

_Lun Yü_, 32-35

MA JUNG, 23, 94

MA TUAN-LIN, 240

MA TZŬ-JAN, 177

Materia Medica, 307

Mathematicians, Biographies of, 418

Matteo Ricci, 308, 418

Medical Jurisprudence, 240-243

MEI SHÊNG, 97

MENCIUS, 25, 35-40

MÊNG HAO-JAN, 149

Mêng T‘ien, 80

_Ming Chi Kang Mu_, 404

_Ming Hsien Chi_, 436

Ming Huang, Emperor, 257

“Mirror of Flowers,” 413

Mirror of History, 217

Mongol Plays, 268

Mo Ti, 37, 40, 41

_Mu T‘ien Tzŭ Chuan_, 49

Nearing the Standard, 44, 45

New History of the T‘ang Dynasty, 217

Nine Old Gentlemen of Hsiang-shan, 164

Novel, The Chinese, 276

O-ÊRH-T‘AI, 404

Odes. See Book of Odes

Orphan of the Chao Family, 269

OU-YANG HSIU, 212-216, 217, 222, 432

PAN, the Lady, 101, 393

PAN CHAO, 108

PAN KU, 108

Pan Piao, 108

PAO CHAO, 132

Pear-Garden, The, 257

_P‘ei Wên Yün Fu_, 385

_P‘i Pa Chi_, 325-328

“Picking up Gold,” 389

_P‘ien Tzŭ Lei P‘ien_, 386

_Ping Fa_, 43

_P‘ing Shan Lêng Yen_, 323, 324

PO CHÜ-I, 163-175

Poetesses, 101, 332, 333

Poetry, 143-146

Printing, Invention of, 209

Proverbs and Maxims, 437-439

P‘U SUNG-LING, 338-355

Record of the Buddhistic Kingdoms, 111-114

Record of Travels in the West, 281-287

Rites of the Chou dynasty, 24

Roman Catholic missionaries, 401

Sacred Edict, 386

_San Kuo Chih Yen I_, 277-280, 310

_San Tzŭ Ching_, 89, 250, 251

Seven Sages of the Bamboo Grove, 61, 125

Seven Scholars of the Chien-An Period, 119

SHAN T‘AO, 128

_Shanghai News_, 428

SHAO YUNG, 234

_Shên Pao_, 428

Shên Su, 299

SHÊN YO, 138

_Shih Ching_, 12

_Shih Lei Fu_, 239

_Shu Ching_, 7

SHIH NAI-AN, 280

_Shui Hu Chuan_, 280, 281, 310

Shun, Emperor, 7, 8

_Shuo Wên_, 109

Six Idlers of the Bamboo Grove, 152

Six Scripts, 239

Six Traitorous Ministers of the Ming dynasty, 297, 299

Slaying a Son at the Yamên Gate, 271-273

Spring and Autumn Annals, 25-31

SSŬ-K‘UNG T‘U, 179-188

SSŬ-MA CH’IEN, 57, 102-108

Ssŭ-ma Hsiang-ju, 97

SSŬ-MA KUANG, 217-219

Story of the Guitar, 325

Story of the Three Kingdoms, 277-280

Story of the Western Pavilion, 273

“Strange Stories,” 338-355

SU CHÊ, 227

SU SHIH, 83, 222-227

Su Tai, 77

Su Tung-p‘o, 161, 222

SU WU, 82, 83

SUN SHU-JAN, 137

SUN TZŬ, 43, 44

SUNG CH’I, 212, 216, 238

SUNG CHIH-WÊN, 148, 149

SUNG LIEN, 291-293

Sung Tz’ŭ, 241

SUNG YÜ, 53

Sung Yün, 115

_Ta Hsüeh_, 41

TAI, the Elder, 23

---- the Younger, 23

TAI T‘UNG, 238, 239

_T‘ai Hsüan Ching_, 93

_T‘ai P‘ing Kuang Chi_, 240

_T‘ai P‘ing Yü Lan_, 239, 418

Tan Ming-lun, 342

T‘AN KUNG, 45-47

T‘ang the Completer, 9

Taoism, 56-74, 419

_Tao Tê Ching_, 56-60, 227

T‘AO CH’IEN, 128-132

T‘ao Ku, 431

T‘ao Yüan-ming, 128

Ten Courts of Purgatory, 420

Three Character Classic, 250, 251

Three Suspicions, The, 262, 263

Topography of Kuangtung, 418

Ts‘ai Ch‘ien, 418

TS’AI YUNG, 95

Ts‘ang Chieh, 6

TS’AO CHIH, 123, 124

TS’AO TS’AO, 120, 123, 277, 278-280

TS’ÊN TS’AN, 159

TSÊNG TS’AN, 41, 48

_Tso Chuan_, 8, 26-29, 256

TS’UI HAO, 150, 151

TSUNG CH’ÊN, 301-303

TU CH’IN-NIANG, 178

TU FU, 156-158

TU YU, 191, 240

_T‘u Shu Chi Ch‘êng_, 386

Tung-fang So, 54, 97

_T‘ung Chien_, 217

_T‘ung Chien Kang Mu_, 228

_T‘ung Chien Kang Mu San Pien_, 404

_T‘ung Tien_, 191, 240

Twenty-four Dynastic Histories, 103

Twice Flowering Plum-trees, 324

Wall Literature, 425, 426

WANG AN-SHIH, 217, 220-222, 235

WANG CHI, 135

Wang Chieh, 415

WANG CHIEN, 159

WANG CH’UNG, 94

WANG JUNG, 128

WANG PO, 146, 147

Wang Pu-ch‘ing, 229

Wang Shih-chêng, 309

WANG SHIH-FU, 273

Wang Su, 48

WANG TAO-K‘UN, 303-305

WANG TS’AN, 121

Wang Tzŭ-ch‘iao, 151

WANG WEI, 149, 150

WANG YING-LIN, 250

WEI CHÊNG, 189

_Wên Hsien T‘ung K‘ao_, 240

_Wên Hsüan_, 140

WÊN T‘IEN-HSIANG, 248-250

Wên Tzŭ, 44

Wên Wang, 9, 21

Wit and Humour, 432

Women, Biographies of, 92

Women as Writers, 417

Women, Proper Training of, 393

Women’s Degrees, 316

WU SHU, 239

Wu Tzŭ, 44

Wu Wang, 10, 21

YANG Chi-shêng, 297, 301

Yang Chu, 37, 40

YANG HSIUNG, 93

YANG I, 234

Yang Kuei-fei, 168-175

Yang Ti, 136

Yao, Emperor, 7, 8

YEH SHIH, 237

YEN SHIH-KU, 190

YING YANG, 122

Yo Fei, 261

Yü, The Great, 8, 12, 26

_Yü Chiao Li_, 309

_Yü Li Ch‘ao Chuan_, 420

YÜAN CHI, 127

_Yüan Chien Lei Han_, 386

_Yüan Ch‘ü Hsüan Tsa Chi_, 268

YÜAN HSIEN, 127

YÜAN MEI, 405

Yüan Shao, 95

YÜAN YÜ, 122

YÜAN YÜAN, 417

Yung Chêng, 387

Yung Lo, 296

_Yung Lo Ta Tien_, 296

THE END

* * * * *

Transcriber's Note

Duplicate title pages before each book have been removed. Page headers

have been placed as sidenotes before the text which they relate to.

The following apparent printing errors have been corrected:

p. 15 "_You seemed_" changed to "“_You seemed_"

p. 22 "䷈" changed to "䷉"

p. 123 "TS’AO TSAO" changed to "TS’AO TS’AO"

P. 170 "_Feather Jacket_" changed to "_Feather Jacket.”_"

p. 171 "Ssŭchuan" changed to "Ssŭch‘uan"

p. 173 "SPIRIT-LAND." changed to "SPIRIT-LAND."

p. 179 "Tu" changed to "T‘u"

p. 184 "SECLUSION" changed to "SECLUSION."

p. 212 "C’hi" changed to "Ch‘i"

p. 222 "Tung-po" changed to "Tung-p‘o"

p. 233 "CH’ÊN TUAN" changed to "CH’ÊN T‘UAN"

p. 249 "Tien-hsiang" changed "T‘ien-hsiang"

p. 275 "villain" changed to "villain."

p. 283 "aswered" changed to "answered"

p. 338 "P‘u Sung-lang" changed to "P‘u Sung-ling"

p. 366 "of elm." changed to "of elm,"

p. 444 "386, 41" changed to "386, 418"

p. 445 "Mèng T‘ien" changed to "Mêng T‘ien"

p. 446 "_Shiu Hu Chuan_" changed to "_Shui Hu Chuan_"

p. 447 "TSENG TS’AN" changed to "TSÊNG TS’AN"

The text and commentaries on p. 29 were printed with no closing quotes.

In the index, small capitals are used inconsistently for the whole name

or for the family name only. The following are also used inconsistently

in the text:

every-day and everyday

ferry-man and ferryman

glow-worm and glowworm

head-dress and headdress

night-jar and nightjar

oft-times and ofttimes

TAO-K‘UN and TAO-K‘UN