Theoretically, the Chinese are fatalists in the fullest sense of the
word. Love of life and a desire to enjoy the precious boon as long as
possible, prevent them from any such extended application of the
principle as would be prejudicial to the welfare of the nation; yet
each man believes that his destiny is pre-ordained, and that the whole
course of his life is mapped out for him with unerring exactitude.
Happily, when the occasion presents itself, his thoughts are generally
too much occupied with the crisis before him, to be able to indulge in
any dangerous speculations on predestination and free-will; his
practice, therefore, is not invariably in harmony with his theory.
On the first page of a Chinese almanack for the current year, we have
a curious woodcut representing a fly, a spider, a bird, a sportsman, a
tiger, and a well. Underneath this strange medley is a legend couched
in the following terms:--"Predestination in all things!" The
letterpress accompanying the picture explains that the spider had just
secured a fat fly, and was on the point of making a meal of him, when
he was espied by a hungry bird which swooped down on both. As the bird
was making off to its nest with this delicious mouthful, a sportsman
who happened to be casting round for a supper, brought it down with
his gun, and was stooping to pick it up, when a tiger, also with an
empty stomach, sprang from behind upon the man, and would there and
then have put an end to the drama, but for an ugly well, on the brink
of which the bird had dropped, and into which the tiger, carried on by
the impetus of his spring, tumbled headlong, taking with him man,
bird, spider, and fly in one fell career to the bottom. This fable
embodies popular ideas in China with regard to predestination, by
virtue of which calamity from time to time overtakes doomed victims,
as a punishment for sins committed in their present or a past state of
existence. Coupled with this belief are many curious sayings and
customs, the latter of which often express in stronger terms than
language the feelings of the people. For instance, at the largest
centre of population in the Eighteen Provinces, there is a regulation
with regard to the porterage by coolies of wine and oil, which
admirably exemplifies the subject under consideration. If on a wet and
stormy day, or when the ground is covered with snow, a coolie laden
with either of the above articles slips and falls, he is held
responsible for any damage that may be done; whereas, if he tumbles
down on a fine day when the streets are dry, and there is no apparent
cause for such an accident, the owner of the goods bears whatever loss
may occur. The idea is that on a wet and slippery day mere exercise of
human caution would be sufficient to avert the disaster, but happening
in bright, dry weather, it becomes indubitably a manifestation of the
will of Heaven. In the same way, an endless run of bad luck or some
fearful and overwhelming calamity, against which no mortal foresight
could guard, is likened to the burning of an _ice-house_, which, from
its very nature, would almost require the interposition of Divine
power to set it in a blaze. In such a case, he who could doubt the
reality of predestination would be ranked, in Chinese eyes, as little
better than a fool. And yet when these emergencies arise we do not
find the Chinese standing still with their hands in their sleeves (for
want of pockets), but working away to stop whatever mischief is going
on, as if after the all the will of Heaven may be made amenable to
human energy. It is only when an inveterate gambler or votary of the
opium-pipe has seen his last chance of solace in this life cut away
from under him, and feels himself utterly unable any longer to stem
the current, that he weakly yields to the force of his destiny, and
borrows a stout rope from a neighbour, or wanders out at night to the
brink of some deep pool never to return again.
There is a charming episode in the second chapter of the "Dream of the
Red Chamber," where the father of Pao-yu is anxious to read the
probable destiny of his infant son. He spreads before the little boy,
then just one year old, all kinds of different things, and declares
that from whichever of these the baby first seizes, he will draw an
omen as to his future career in life. We can imagine how he longed for
his boy to grasp the manly _bow_, in the use of which he might some
day rival the immortal archer Pu:--the _sword_, and live to be
enrolled a fifth among the four great generals of China:--the _pen_,
and under the favouring auspices of the god of literature, rise to
assist the Son of Heaven with his counsels, or write a commentary upon
the Book of Rites. Alas for human hopes! The naughty baby, regardless
alike of his father's wishes and the filial code, passed over all
these glittering instruments of wealth and power, and devoted his
attention exclusively to some hair-pins, pearl-powder, rouge, and a
lot of women's head-ornaments.