The distinguishing feature and the crowning glory of the Chinese nation
is its literature. It is true that the Chinese can boast of an ancient
empire, of a time-honored civilization, of conquests in the fields of
science, and, in spite of recent events, in the field of battle; but in
the mind of every true Son of Han these titles to fame sink into
insignificance before that of the possession of a literature which dates
back to a time when the Western world was yet in a state of barbarism,
and which as centuries have rolled by has been worthily supplemented in
every branch of knowledge.
[Illustration: CONFUCIUS]
It may now be accepted as beyond dispute that the Chinese migrated into
China from southwestern Asia about B.C. 2300, bringing with them a
knowledge of writing, and in all probability the beginnings of a
literature. In the records of that distant past, history and fable are
so closely intermingled that it is difficult to pronounce definitely
upon any subject treated in them, and we are compelled to seek in
comparative philology for reasonable explanations of many points which
Chinese chroniclers are content to leave, not from want of assertion, in
the mists of uncertainty.
By common consent it is acknowledged that the 'Yi King,' Book of
Changes, is the oldest work extant in Chinese literature; though other
works, the names of which only have come down to us, were
contemporaneously current in the country. A peculiar veneration is
naturally felt by the Chinese for this sole surviving waif from a past
literature; and from the time of Confucius downward, scholars of every
age have attempted to explain its mystic pages. The basis of the work is
popularly believed to be eight diagrams, which are said to have been
designed by Fuh-hi (B.C. 2852), and which by subdivision have become
multiplied into sixty-four. One of these stands at the head of each of
the sixty-four chapters into which the work is now divided. Following
these diagrams is in each case an initial character, with short phrases
which have been held by Confucius and every subsequent native
commentator to explain the meaning of the diagrams. But the key to the
puzzle was denied to these scholars, who made confusion worse confounded
by their attempts to make sense of that which was unintelligible to
them. So mysterious a text was naturally believed to be a work on
divination; and accepting this cue, the commentators devoted their
energies to forcing into the Procrustean bed of divination the
disjointed phrases which follow the diagrams. The solution of the
mystery, which had escaped the keen study of five-and-twenty centuries
of native scholars, was discovered by the late Professor Terrieu de la
Couperie, who by many irrefragable proofs demonstrated that the 'Yi
King' consists "of old fragments of early times in China, mostly of a
lexical character." With this explanation the futility of the attempts
of the native scholars to translate it as a connected text at once
becomes apparent. A large proportion of the chapters are merely
syllabaries, similar to those of Chaldea. The initial character
represents the word to be explained, and the phrases following express
its various meanings.
An excellent translation of the 'Yi King' as it is understood by native
scholars was published by Professor Legge in 'The Sacred Books of the
East' (1882); and a comparison of his translation of the seventh chapter
with Professor T. de la Couperie's rendering of the same passage must be
enough to convince the most skeptical that even if he is not absolutely
correct, the native scholars must undoubtedly be wrong. The chapter is
headed by a diagram consisting of five divided lines and one undivided;
and the initial character is Sze, which is described in modern
dictionaries as meaning "a teacher," "instructor," "model," "an army,"
"a poet," "a multitude," "the people," "all," "laws," "an elder." Of the
phrases which follow, Professor Legge gives the following rendering:--
"Sze indicates how, in the case which it supposes, with firmness and
correctness, and [a leader of] age and experience, there will be good
fortune and no error.
"The first line, divided, shows the host going forward according to the
rules [for such a movement]. If these be not good, there will be evil.
"The second line, undivided, shows [the leader] in the midst of his
host. There will be good fortune and no error. The king has thrice
conveyed to him the orders [of his favor].
"The third line, divided, shows how the host may possibly have many
inefficient leaders. There will be evil.
"The fourth line, divided, shows the host in retreat. There is no error.
"The fifth line, divided, shows birds in the fields, which it will be
advantageous to seize and destroy. In that case there will be no error.
If the oldest son leads the host, and younger men [idly occupy offices
assigned to them], however firm and correct he may be, there will be
evil.
"The topmost line, divided, shows the great ruler delivering his charges
[appointing some], to be rulers of States, and others to undertake the
headship of clans; but small men should not be employed [in such
positions]."
[Illustration: _OLDEST CHINESE LETTERS_
From an inscription attributed to the Emperor Yao, 2350 B.C.
The most ancient historical books of the Chinese date from
the time of Yao. The events of his reign were chronicled by
contemporaneous writers; tradition being the foundation of
all previous Chinese history.]
It is impossible to read such an extract as the above without being
convinced that the explanation was not that which was intended by the
author or authors; and on the doctrine of probabilities, a perusal of
the following version by Professor T. de la Couperie would incline us to
accept his conclusions. But his theory does not rest on probabilities
alone; he is able to support it with many substantial proofs: and though
exception may possibly be taken to some of his renderings of individual
phrases, his general views may be held to be firmly established. This is
his version of the chapter quoted above, with the exception of the words
of good or ill omen:--
"Sze [is] a righteous great man. The Sze defines laws not biased. The
centre of the army. The three conveying orders [officers] of the
Sovereign. Sze [is] also corpse-like. Sze [is] an assistant officer. In
the fields are birds [so called]; many take the name [?] The elder sons
[are] the leaders of the army. The younger [are] the passive multitude
[?] Great Princes instructing. The group of men who have helped in the
organization of the kingdom. People gathered by the Wu flag [?]."
From what has been said, as well as from the above extracts, it will be
observed that to all except the native scholars who imagine that they
see in its pages deep divinatory lore, the chief interest of the 'Yi
King' lies in the linguistic and ethnographical indications which it
contains, and which at present we can but dimly discern. It is difficult
to assign a date to it, but it is certain that it existed before the
time of King Wen (B.C. 1143), who with his son the Duke of Chow edited
the text and added a commentary to it. That parts of it are very much
earlier than this period there can be no doubt; and it is safe to assume
that in the oldest portion of the work we have one of the first literary
efforts of the Chinese. It was not, however, until the time of Confucius
that the foundations of the national literature may be said to have been
laid.
From constant references in the early histories it is obvious that
before that period a literature of a certain kind existed. The Chinese
have an instinctive love of letters, and we know from the records that
to the courts of the various princes were attached historians whose duty
it was to collect the folk-lore songs of the people of the various
States. "If a man were permitted to make all the ballads of a nation, he
need not care who should make its laws," said Sir Andrew Fletcher of
Saltoun. So thought the Chinese legislators, who designed their
enactments with direct regard to the dispositions of the people as
displayed in their songs. At the time of Confucius (B.C. 551-479) a
large collection of these ballads existed in the archives of the
sovereign State of Chow; and as is generally believed, the sage revised
the collection, and omitting those he considered unworthy of
preservation, formed an edition containing three hundred and five
pieces. This work has come down to us under the title of the 'Shih King'
or Book of Odes. The ballads are just such as we should expect to find
under the circumstances. They are plainly the utterances of the people
in a primitive state of civilization, who nevertheless enjoyed
considerable freedom; and though they occasionally had to lament the
tyranny of individual princes, they cannot be described as having been
among the down-trodden nations of the earth. The domesticity which is
still a distinctive feature of Chinese life figures largely in them, and
the filial piety which to the present day is so highly esteemed finds
constant expression. The measure in which the odes have been handed down
to us makes it difficult to understand how any rhythm could be found in
them. With few exceptions they are all written in lines of four
characters each, and as read at the present day, consist therefore of
only four syllables. This seems to be so stunted and unnatural a metre
that one is inclined to accept Professor T. de la Couperie's suggestion,
for which he had much to say,--that at the time at which they were sung,
the characters which now represent a syllable each were polysyllabic. It
would seem probable that certainly in some cases compound characters
were pronounced as compounded of syllables in accordance with their
component parts, as certain of them are read by the Japanese at the
present time. Numerous translations of the odes into European languages
have been made, and the following extracts from Professor Legge's
rendering of the second ode, celebrating the industry and filial piety
of the reigning queen, give a good idea of the general tone of the
pieces.
"Sweet was the scene. The spreading dolichos
Extended far, down to the valley's depths,
With leaves luxuriant. The orioles
Fluttered around, and on the bushy trees
In throngs collected,--whence their pleasant notes
Resounded far in richest melody....
Now back to my old home, my parents dear
To see, I go. The matron I have told,
Who will announcement make. Meanwhile my clothes,
My private clothes, I wash, and rinse my robes.
Which of them need be rinsed? and which need not?
My parents dear to visit back I go."
Such were the odes which Confucius found collected ready to his hand;
and faithful to his character of transmitter of the wisdom of the
ancients, he made them the common property of his countrymen. But these
were not the only records at the court of Chow which attracted his
attention. He found there historical documents, containing the leading
events in the history of the Chinese States from the middle of the
twenty-third century B.C. to 721. These curious records of a past time
possessed an irresistible attraction for him. By constant study he made
them his own, and with loving care collated and edited the texts. These
fragments are, from a historical point of view, of great value; and they
incidentally furnish evidence of the fact that China was not always the
stage on which the Chinese people have played their parts. There is no
sign in these records of the first steps in ethics and science which one
would expect to find in the primitive history of a race. The utterances
of the sovereigns and sages, with which they abound, are marked by a
comparatively matured knowledge and an advanced ethical condition. The
knowledge of astronomy displayed, though not profound, is considerable,
and the directions given by the Emperor Yao to his astronomers royal are
quite such as may have been given by any Emperor of China until the
advent of the Jesuit missionaries in the seventeenth century; and the
moral utterances of the sovereigns and their ministers are on a par with
the sentiments expressed in the Peking Gazette at the present time.
"Virtue," said the minister Yi addressing his Emperor Yue, "is the basis
of good government; and this consists first in procuring for the people
the things necessary for their sustenance, such as water, fire, metals,
wood, and grain. The ruler must also think of rendering them virtuous,
and of preserving them from whatever can injure life and health. When
you would caution them, use gentle words; when you would correct, employ
authority." "Do not be ashamed of mistakes, and thus make them crimes,"
was another piece of advice uttered forty centuries ago, which has a
peculiarly modern ring about it.
According to the system in vogue at the Chinese courts, the duty of
recording historical events was confided to historians of the right hand
and of the left. To the latter was given the duty of recording the
speeches and edicts of the sovereigns and their ministers, and to the
first that of compiling chronicles of events. The historians who had
placed on record the documents which Confucius edited in the 'Shu King'
or Book of History were historians of the left hand, and in the only
original work which we have by the Sage--'The Spring and Autumn
Annals'--he constituted himself a historian of the right. In this work
he traces the history of his native State of Lu from the year B.C. 722
to B.C. 484, and in the baldest and most calendar-like style enumerates,
without any comment or expression of opinion, the facts which he
considers of sufficient importance to report. However faulty we may
consider his manner of treatment, any criticism should be leveled
against the system rather than against the author. But in other respects
Confucius cannot shelter himself under the plea of usage. As a
historian, it was his bounden duty above all things to tell the truth,
and to distribute praise and blame without fear or favor. In this
elementary duty Confucius failed, and has left us a record in which he
has obviously made events to chime in with his preconceived ideas and
opinions. Considering the assumption of virtue with which Confucius
always clothed himself, this is the more noticeable; and still more is
it remarkable that his disciples should be so overcome by the glamour
which attached to his name, that his obvious lapses from the truth are
not only left unnoted, but the general tone and influence of the work
are described in the most eulogistic terms. "The world," said Mencius,
"had fallen into decay and right principles had dwindled away. Perverse
discourses and oppressive deeds had again waxen rife. Cases had occurred
of ministers who had murdered their rulers, and of sons who had murdered
their fathers. Confucius was afraid and made the 'Ch'un ch'iu.'" So
great, we are told, was the effect of the appearance of this work that
"rebellious ministers quaked with fear, and undutiful sons were overcome
with terror." Love of truth is not a characteristic of the Chinese
people; and unhappily their greatest men, Confucius among them, have
shown their countrymen a lamentable example in this respect.
So great is the admiration of the people for this work of Confucius that
by universal consent the 'Ch'un ch'iu' has through all ages been
included among the Five Classics of the country. Three others have
already been spoken of, and there remains only one more, the Book of
Rites, to mention. This work is the embodiment of, and authority for,
the ceremonial which influences the national policy of the country, and
directs the individual destinies of the people. We are informed on the
highest authority that there are three hundred rules of ceremony and
three thousand rules of behavior. Under a code so overwhelmingly
oppressive, it is difficult to imagine how the race can continue to
exist; but five-and-twenty centuries of close attention to the Book of
Rites have so molded the nation within the lines of the ceremonial which
it prescribes, that acquiescence with its rules has become a second
nature with the people, and requires no more guiding effort on their
part than does the automatic action of the nerves and limbs at the
bidding of the brain. Within its voluminous pages every act which one
man should perform to another is carefully and fully provided for; and
this applies not only to the daily life of the people, but also to the
official acts of the whole hierarchy of power from the Emperor downward.
No court ceremony is undertaken without its guidance, and no official
deed is done throughout the length and breadth of the eighteen Provinces
of the Empire without its sanction. Its spirit penetrates every Yamen
and permeates every household. It regulates the sacrifices which should
be offered to the gods, it prescribes the forms to be observed by the
Son of Heaven in his intercourse with his ministers, it lays down the
behavior proper to officials of all ranks, and it directs the conduct of
the people in every relation of life. It supplements in a practical form
the teachings of Confucius and others, and forms the most important link
in the chain which binds the people to the chariot wheels of the
"Sages."
Of canonical authority equal to the Five Classics if not greater, are
the 'Four Books' in which are recorded the _ipsissima verba_ of
Confucius. These are the 'Lunyue' or Sayings of Confucius, twenty books,
which contains a detailed description of the Sage's system of
philosophy; the 'Ta Hsio,' the Great Learning, ten chapters; the 'Chung
yung,' or the Doctrine of the Mean, thirty-three chapters; and the
development of Confucianism as enunciated by his great follower Mencius
in the 'Meng tz[)u],' seven books. These works cover the whole field of
Confucianism; and as such, their contents claim the allegiance and
demand the obedience of ninety-nine out of every hundred Chinamen. To
the European student their contents are somewhat disappointing. The
system they enunciate wants completeness and life, although the
sentiments they express are unexceptionable; as for example when
Confucius said: "Hold faithfulness and sincerity as first principles.
Have no friends not equal to yourself. When you have faults, do not fear
to abandon them." Admirable maxims such as these flowed from his lips in
abundance, but he could offer no reason why a man should rather obey the
advice thus presented than his own inclination. He had no reward to
offer for virtue, and no terrors with which to threaten the doers of
evil. In no sense do his teachings as they came from his lips constitute
a religion. He inculcated no worship of the Deity, and he refrained
altogether from declaring his belief or disbelief in a future existence.
The author of the 'Great Learning,' commonly said to be the disciple
Tseng, describes the object of his work to be "to illustrate illustrious
virtue; to renovate the people; and to rest in the highest excellence."
And following on the lines indicated by his great master, he lays down
the ethical means by which these admirable ends may in his opinion be
attained. The 'Doctrine of the Mean' takes for its text the injunction,
"Let the states of equilibrium and harmony exist in perfection, and a
happy order will prevail throughout heaven and earth, and all things
will be nourished and flourish." The author of this work, Tz[)u]ss[)u],
goes deeper into the motives of human conduct than Confucius himself.
"First he shows clearly how the path of duty is to be traced to its
origin in Heaven, and is unchangeable, while the substance of it is
provided in ourselves, and may not be departed from. Next he speaks of
the importance of preserving and nourishing this, and of exercising a
watchful self-scrutiny with reference to it. Finally he speaks of the
meritorious achievements and transforming influence of sage and
spiritual men in their highest extent."
In the teachings of Mencius (B.C. 372-289) we see a distinct advance on
the doctrines of Confucius. He was a man of a far more practical frame
of mind than his great predecessor, and possessed the courage necessary
to speak plainly in the presence of kings and rulers. His knowledge of
political economy was considerable, and he brought to the test of
experience many of the opinions and doctrines which Confucius was
willing to express only in the abstract. Filial piety was his constant
theme. "The richest fruit of benevolence is this," he said,--"the
service of one's parents. The richest fruit of righteousness is
this,--the obeying of one's elder brothers. The richest fruit of wisdom
is this,--the knowing of these two things, and not departing from them."
These Five Classics and Four Books may be said to be the foundations on
which all Chinese literature has been based. The period when Confucius
and Mencius taught and wrote was one of great mental activity all over
the world. While the wise men of China were proclaiming their system of
philosophy, the Seven Sages of Greece were pouring out words of wisdom
in the schools at Athens, and the sound of the voice of Buddha (died 480
B.C.) had hardly ceased to be heard under the bodhi tree in Central
India. From such beginnings arose the literatures which have since added
fame and splendor to the three countries in Asia and Europe. In China
the impetus given by these pioneers of learning was at once felt, and
called into existence a succession of brilliant writers who were as
distinguished for the boldness of their views as for the freedom with
which they gave them utterance.
The main subject discussed by these men was the principle underlying the
Confucian system; namely, that man's nature is in its origin perfectly
good, and that so long as each one remains uncontaminated by the world
and the things of the world, the path of virtue is to him the path of
least resistance. While therefore a man is able to remain unenticed by
the temptations which necessarily surround him, he advances in spotless
purity towards perfection, until virtue becomes in him so confirmed a
habit that neither the stings of conscience nor the exertion of
intellectual effort is required to maintain him in his position of
perfect goodness and of perfect peace.
These are still the opinions of orthodox Confucianists, but at different
times scholars have arisen, who from their own experiences in the
world, have come to conclusions diametrically opposed to those taught by
the Sage. In their opinion the Psalmist was right when he said, "The
heart of man is deceitful above all things and desperately wicked."
Scarcely had Confucius been gathered to his fathers when the Philosopher
Hsuen enunciated this view, and since then the doctrine has formed the
chief ground of contention among all schools of philosophy down to the
present day. By certain writers it has been held that in man's nature
there is a mixture of good and evil, and by no one was this view more
ably expounded than by the philosopher Chu Hi (A.D. 1130-1200). In
season and out of season this great writer, who has done more than any
one else to elucidate the dark pages of the classics, "taught that good
and evil were present in the heart of every man, and that just as in
nature a duality of powers is necessary to the existence of nature
itself, so good and evil are inseparably present in the heart of every
human being."
But there were others who felt that the bald and conventional system
proclaimed by Confucius was insufficient to satisfy the desire for the
supernatural which is implanted in men of every race and of every clime,
and then at once a school arose, headed by Laotz[)u] (sixth century B.
C.), the Old Philosopher; which, adopting the spirit of Brahminism,
taught its sectaries to seek by self-abnegation freedom from the
entanglements of the world, and a final absorption into the Deity. The
minds of most Chinamen are not attuned to the apprehension of
philosophical subtleties, and the wisdom imparted by Laotz[)u] to his
countrymen in the pages of his 'Taote King' (The Book of Reason and
Virtue), soon became debased into a superstitious system by a succession
of charlatans, who, adopting Laotz[)u]'s doctrine that death was only
another form of life, taught their followers to seek to prolong the
pleasures of the present state of existence by searching in the mazes of
alchemy for the elixir of life and the philosopher's stone. Before the
faith reached this degraded position, however, several writers
supplemented and enlarged on the doctrines advanced by Laotz[)u].
Foremost among these were Litz[)u] and Chwangtz[)u], who were both men
of great metaphysical ability, and whose speculations, though not always
in harmony with those of their great master, help to some extent to
elucidate his system and certainly add considerable interest to it.
Around the systems of Confucius and Laotz[)u] a considerable literature
grew up, which was cherished, copied, and discussed by all those
scholars who had time to spare from the contemplation of the records of
the various States into which the country was divided. These records had
assumed a permanent place in the literature of the land, and were bound
up with the feudal system which then existed. The time came, however,
when this feudal system was destined to come to an end. In the third
century before Christ a leader arose who proclaimed the States an Empire
and himself as Emperor. To so conservatively minded a people as the
Chinese the revolution was difficult of acceptance, and Shi Hwangti,
seeking to facilitate the transfer of their allegiance, ordered the
destruction of all books which might preserve the memory of a bygone
constitution. With ruthless severity the ukase was put into force, and
all works, with the exception of those on medicine and alchemy, were
thrown to the flames. Happily no tyrant, however powerful, can enforce
the complete fulfillment of such an edict; and in spite of threats and
persecutions, events showed that through all that fiery time manuscripts
had been carefully preserved, and that men had been found ready to risk
their lives in the sacred cause of learning.
Fortunately the Dynasty founded by Shi Hwangti was short-lived, and in
202 B.C. a revolution placed Kao ti, the founder of the Han Dynasty, on
the throne. With commendable wisdom Kao ti placed himself at once in
complete harmony with the national mind, and had no sooner assumed the
imperial yellow than he notified his desire to restore the national
literature to its former status. Under his fostering care, manuscripts
which had lain hidden were brought out from their places of concealment;
and to these works were added others, which were dictated by scholars
who had treasured them in their memories. That the works thus again
brought out were numerous, is proved by the fact that in the catalogue
of the Imperial Library of the Han Dynasty (B.C. 202 to A.D. 25),
mention is made of 11,312 works, consisting of volumes on the classics,
philosophy, poetry, military tactics, mathematics and medicine.
It was during this dynasty that the national history and poetry took
their rise in the shapes with which we are now familiar. After the night
of turmoil and darkness which had just passed away, men, as though
invigorated by the time of sterility, devoted themselves to the
production of cultured prose and original though pedantic poetry. It was
then that Ss[)u]ma Ch'ien, who has been called the Herodotus of China,
wrote his 'Shichi' (Historical Records), which embraces a period of
between two and three thousand years; namely, from the reign of Hwang ti
(B.C. 2697) to the reign of Wu ti of the Han Dynasty (B.C. 140-86).
Following the example of this great chronicler, Pan ku compiled the
records of the Han Dynasty in a hundred and twenty books, and it is on
the model thus laid down that all succeeding dynastic histories of China
have been written. Almost without variation the materials of these vast
depositories of information are arranged in the following order:--1.
Imperial records, consisting of the purely political events which
occurred in each reign. 2. Memoirs, including treatises on mathematical
chronology, rites, music, jurisprudence, political economy, State
sacrifices, astronomy, elemental influences, geography, literature,
biographies, and records of the neighboring countries.
_Tempora non animi mutant_, and in the poetry of this period we see a
close resemblance to the spirit which breathes in the odes collected by
Confucius. The measure shows signs of some elasticity, five characters
to a line taking the place of the older four-syllabled metre; but the
ideas which permeate it are the same. Like all Chinese poetry, it is
rather quaint than powerful, and is rather noticeable for romantic
sweetness than for the expression of strong passions. There is for the
most part a somewhat melancholy ring about it. The authors love to
lament their absence from home or the oppressed condition of the people,
or to enlarge on the depressing effect of rain or snow, and find sadness
in the strange beauty of the surrounding scenery or the loveliness of a
flower. The diction is smooth and the fancy wandering, but its lines do
not much stir the imagination or arouse the passions. These are
criticisms which apply to Chinese poetry of all ages. During the T'ang
and Sung Dynasties (A.D. 618-1127), periods which have been described
as forming the Augustan ages of Chinese literature, poets flourished
abundantly, and for the better expression of their ideas they adopted a
metre of seven characters or syllables, instead of the earlier and more
restricted measures. Tu Fu, Li T'aipai, and a host of others, enriched
the national poetry at the time, and varied the subjects which had been
the common themes of earlier poets by singing the praises of wine. To be
a poet it was considered necessary by them that a man should be a
wine-bibber, and their verses describe with enthusiasm the pleasures of
the cup and the joys of intoxication. The following is a specimen of
such an ode, taken from the works of Li T'aipai:--
If life be nothing but an empty dream,
Why vex one's self about the things of time?
My part shall be to drain the flowing cup
And sleep away the fumes of drowsy wine.
When roused to life again, I straightway ask
The Bird which sings in yonder leafy trees,
What season of the year had come its round.
"The Spring," he says,
"When every breath of air suggests a song."
Sad and disturbed, I heave a gentle sigh,
And turn again to brightening, cheering wine,
And sing until the moon shines, and until
Sleep and oblivion close my eyes again.
But before the time of the T'ang Dynasty a new element had been
introduced into the national literature. With the introduction of
Buddhism the Chinese became acquainted with religious doctrines and
philosophical ideas, of which until then they had only been faintly
conscious from their contact with the debased form of Brahminical
teaching which under the name of Taoism had long existed in the land. A
complete knowledge of the teachings of Sakyamuni was however imparted to
them by the arrival, at the beginning of the first century of our era,
of two Shamans from India who settled at Loyang in the province of
Honan, and who translated the Sanskrit Sutra in forty-two sections into
Chinese. From this time onward a constant succession of Buddhist
missionaries visited China and labored with indefatigable industry, both
by oral teaching and by the translation of Sanskrit works into Chinese,
to convert the people to their faith.
The knowledge thus acquired was of great advantage to the literature of
the country. It enriched it with new ideas, and added wider knowledge to
its pages. The history and geography of India, with which scholars had
previously been scarcely acquainted, became, though indistinctly,
matters of knowledge to them. Already Fahsien, the great forerunner of
Chinese Buddhist pilgrims (B.C. 399), had visited India and had
described in his 'Fuh kwo chi' (The Records of Buddhist Countries) the
wonders which he had seen in Hindustan. With the spread of Buddhism in
China, a desire to follow in his footsteps prompted others to undertake
the long and arduous journey across the Mongolian steppes and over the
passes of the Himalayas into the plains of India. Sung yun in the sixth
century and Huean Ts'ang in the seventh are conspicuous among those who
undertook this toilsome pilgrimage in the interest of the faith.
Notwithstanding the occasional influx of new sentiments, however, the
circumscribed circle of knowledge which was within the reach of Chinese
scholars, and the poverty of their vocabulary, have always necessarily
limited the wealth of their ideas; and at an early period of the history
of the country we see symptoms of sterility creeping over the national
mind. It is always easier to remember than to think; and it cannot but
be looked upon as a sign of decadence in a literature when collections
of ready-made knowledge take the place of original compositions, and
when scholars devote themselves to the production of anthologies and
encyclopaedias instead of seeking out new thoughts and fresh branches of
learning. In the sixth century, a period which coincides with the
invention of printing, there was first shown that disposition to collect
extracts from works of merit into anthologies, which have ever since
been such a marked peculiarity of Chinese literature.
That the effect of these works, and of the encyclopaedias which are in a
sense allied to them, has been detrimental to the national mind, there
cannot be a doubt. Scholars are no longer required to search for
themselves for the golden nuggets of knowledge in the mines of learning.
They have but to turn to the great depositories of carefully extracted
information, and they find ready to their hand the opinions and thoughts
of all those who are considered to be authorities on the subject with
which they desire to acquaint themselves. For the purposes of cram for
students at the competitive examinations, these treasuries of knowledge
are of inestimable value: and by their help, "scholars" who have neither
depth of knowledge nor power of thought are able to make a show of
erudition which is as hollow as it is valueless.
During the Ming Dynasty (1368-1644) this class of literature may be said
to have reached its highest development. In the reign of the Emperor
Yunglo (1403-1425) was compiled the largest encyclopaedia which has ever
seen the light. This gigantic work, which was entitled 'Yunglo ta tien,'
consisted of no fewer than 22,877 books, and covered every branch of
knowledge possessed by the Chinese. Possibly owing to its immense
extent, it was never published; and such volumes as still survive the
destroying influences of neglect and decay are yet to be found in
manuscript on the shelves of the Imperial Library. Inspired perhaps by
the example thus set, the Emperor K'anghi of the present dynasty
appointed a commission of scholars to compile a similar work; and after
forty years had been consumed in extracting from the past literatures
every passage bearing on the 6109 headings which it was the will of
K'anghi should be illustrated, the compilers were able to lay before
their sovereign a work consisting of 5020 volumes, which they entitled
'Kin L'ing ku kin t'u shu chi ch'eng.' Unlike Yunglo's great work, this
one was printed; and though only, as it is said, a hundred copies were
issued, some still remain of the original edition. One such copy,
complete in every particular, is to be seen at the British Museum. For
completeness from a Chinese point of view this work stands out
pre-eminently above all others; but owing to the very limited number of
copies, it has never superseded the 'Wen hsien t'ung k'ao' by Ma
Twanlin, which, though published four hundred years earlier, still holds
its own in popular estimation.
Much has been written by Chinese authors on scientific subjects, but the
substance is remarkable for its extent rather than for its value. In
each branch of knowledge they have advanced under foreign influence up
to a certain point, and beyond that they have been unable to go. Their
knowledge of astronomy, which is of Chaldean origin, is sufficient to
enable them to calculate eclipses and to recognize the precession of the
equinoxes, but it has left them with confused notions on subjects which
are matters of common knowledge among Western people. It is the same in
the case of medicine. They understand certain general principles of
therapeutics and the use of certain herbs; but their knowledge is purely
empirical, and their acquaintance with surgery is of the most elementary
kind.
It is perhaps in their novels and plays, however, that the most marked
defects in the national mind become apparent. The systems of education
and the consequent mental habit in vogue are the outcomes of that lack
of imagination which distinguishes the people, and which finds its
reflection in all those branches of literature which are more directly
dependent on the flow of new and striking ideas. There is little
delineation of character either in their novels or their plays. The
personages portrayed are all either models of virtue and learning, or
shocking examples of ignorance and turpitude. Their actions are
mechanical, and the incidents described have little or no connection
with one another. The stories are in fact arranged much as a clever
child might be expected to arrange them, and they are by no means free
from the weary iterations in which untutored minds are apt to indulge.
Chinese scholars are conscious of these defects, and attempt to explain
them by describing novel-writing as being beneath the serious attention
of all those who are interested in learning. This view is commonly
accepted by their learned world, who divide literature into four
classes, viz., Classics, History, Philosophy, and Belles-lettres. The
last of these does not include either romances or plays; and with the
exception of two or three standard works of fiction and the 'Hundred
Plays of the Yuean Dynasty' (A.D. 1280-1368), no specimens of either of
these two classes of literature would ever be found in a library of
standing. But this contempt for works of imagination is probably less
the cause of their inferiority than the result of it. The Providence
which has given Chinamen untiring diligence, inexhaustible memories, and
a love of learning, has not vouchsafed to touch their tongues with the
live coal of imagination. They are plodding students, and though quite
capable of narrating events and of producing endless dissertations on
the interpretation of the classics and the true meaning of the
philosophy on which they are based, are entirely unprovided with that
power of fancy which is able to bring before the eye, as in a living
picture, the phantoms of the brain.
[Signature: Nobert K. Douglas]