mortgagee sent to say that the money paid in was all imitation silver,
and that he was about to lay the case before the authorities. Husband
and wife were greatly alarmed at this, and Tsang-ku exclaimed, “Well,
I never thought your brother was as bad as this. He’s simply trying to
take your life.” Erh-ch‘êng himself was in a terrible fright, and
hurried off to the mortgagee to entreat for mercy; but as the latter
was extremely angry and would hear of no compromise, Erh-ch‘êng was
obliged to make over the property to him to dispose of himself. The
money was then returned, and when he got home he found that two lumps
had been cut through, shewing merely an outside layer of silver, about
as thick as an onion-leaf, covering nothing but copper within.
Tsang-ku and Erh-ch‘êng then agreed to keep the broken pieces
themselves, but send the rest back to Ta-ch‘êng, with a message,
saying that they were deeply indebted to him for all his kindness, and
that they had ventured to retain two of the lumps of silver out of
compliment to the giver; also that Ta-ch‘êng might consider himself
the owner of the mortgaged land, which he could redeem or not as he
pleased. Ta-ch‘êng, who did not perceive the intention in all this,
refused to accept the land; however, Erh-ch‘êng entreated him to do
so, and at last he consented. When he came to weigh the money, he
found it was five ounces short, and therefore bade Shan-hu pawn
something from her jewel-box to make up the amount, with which he
proceeded to pay off the mortgage. The mortgagee, suspecting it was
the same money that had been offered him by Erh-ch‘êng, cut the pieces
in halves, and saw that it was all silver of the purest quality.
Accordingly he accepted it in liquidation of his claim, and handed the
mortgage back to Ta-ch‘êng. Meanwhile, Erh-ch‘êng had been expecting
some catastrophe; but when he found that the mortgaged land had been
redeemed, he did not know what to make of it. Tsang-ku thought that at
the time of the digging Ta-ch‘êng had concealed the genuine silver,
and immediately rushed off to his house, and began to revile them all
round. Ta-ch‘êng now understood why they had sent him back the money;
and Shan-hu laughed and said, “The property is safe; why, then, this
anger?” Thereupon she made Ta-ch‘êng hand over the deeds to Tsang-ku.
One night after this Erh-ch‘êng’s father appeared to him in a dream,
and reproached him, saying, “Unfilial son, unfraternal brother, your
hour is at hand. Wherefore usurp rights that do not belong to you?” In
the morning Erh-ch‘êng told Tsang-ku of his dream, and proposed to
return the property to his brother; but she only laughed at him for a
fool. Just then the eldest of his two sons, a boy of seven, died of
small-pox, and this frightened Tsang-ku so that she agreed to restore
the deeds. Ta-ch‘êng would not accept them; and now the second child,
a boy of three, died also; whereupon Tsang-ku seized the deeds, and
threw them into her brother-in-law’s house. Spring was over, but the
land was in a terribly neglected state; so Ta-ch‘êng set to work and
put it in order again. From this moment Tsang-ku was a changed woman
towards her mother- and sister-in-law; and when, six months later,
Mrs. An died, she was so grieved that she refused to take any
nourishment. “Alas!” cried she, “that my mother-in-law has died thus
early, and prevented me from waiting upon her. Heaven will not allow
me to retrieve my past errors.” Tsang-ku had thirteen children,[309]
but as none of them lived, they were obliged to adopt one of
Ta-ch‘êng’s,[310] who, with his wife, lived to a good old age, and had
three sons, two of whom took their doctor’s degree. People said this
was a reward for filial piety and brotherly love.
FOOTNOTES:
[302] See No. XLIII., note 248.
[303] See No. LIII., note 288.
[304] Such is the Chinese idiom for what we should call “bitter”
tears. This phrase is constantly employed in the notices of the death
of a parent sent round to friends and relatives.
[305] A disgraceful state of things, in the eyes of the Chinese. See
the paraphrase of the _Sacred Edict_, Maxim 1.
[306] An illegal form of punishment, under the present dynasty, which
authorizes only _bambooing_ of two kinds, each of five degrees of
severity; _banishment_, of three degrees of duration; _transportation_
for life, of three degrees of distance; and _death_, of two kinds,
namely, by strangulation and decapitation. That torture is
occasionally resorted to by the officers of the Chinese Empire is an
indisputable fact; that it is commonly employed by the whole body of
mandarins could only be averred by those who have not had the
opportunities or the desire to discover the actual truth.
[307] _Lagerstrœmia indica._
[308] That is, old Mr. Jen’s body had been possessed by the
disembodied spirit of Ta-ch‘êng’s father.
[309] Five is considered a large number for an ordinary Chinese woman.
[310] In order to leave some one behind to look after their graves and
perform the duties of ancestral worship. No one can well refuse to
give a son to be adopted by a childless brother.
LVI.
DR. TSÊNG’S DREAM.
There was a Fohkien gentleman named Tsêng, who had just taken his
doctor’s degree. One day he was out walking with several other
recently-elected doctors, when they heard that at a temple hard by
there lived an astrologer, and accordingly the party proceeded thither
to get their fortunes told. They went in and sat down, and the
astrologer made some very complimentary remarks to Tsêng, at which he
fanned himself and smiled, saying, “Have I any chance of ever wearing
the dragon robes and the jade girdle?”[311] The astrologer[312]
immediately put on a serious face, and replied that he would be a
Secretary of State during twenty years of national tranquillity.
Thereupon Tsêng was much pleased, and began to give himself greater
airs than ever. A slight rain coming on, they sought shelter in the
priest’s quarters, where they found an old bonze, with sunken eyes and
a big nose, sitting upon a mat. He took no notice of the strangers,
who, after having bowed to him, stretched themselves upon the couches
to chat, not forgetting to congratulate Tsêng upon the destiny which
had been foretold him. Tsêng, too, seemed to think the thing was a
matter of certainty, and mentioned the names of several friends he
intended to advance, amongst others the old family butler. Roars of
laughter greeted this announcement, mingled with the patter-patter of
the increasing rain outside. Tsêng then curled himself up for a nap,
when suddenly in walked two officials bearing a commission under the
Great Seal appointing Tsêng to the Grand Secretariat. As soon as Tsêng
understood their errand, he rushed off at once to pay his respects to
the Emperor, who graciously detained him some time in conversation,
and then issued instructions that the promotion and dismissal of all
officers below the third grade[313] should be vested in Tsêng alone.
He was next presented with the dragon robes, the jade girdle, and a
horse from the imperial stables, after which he performed the
_ko-t‘ow_[314] before His Majesty and took his leave. He then went
home, but it was no longer the old home of his youth. Painted beams,
carved pillars, and a general profusion of luxury and elegance, made
him wonder where on earth he was; until, nervously stroking his
beard, he ventured to call out in a low tone. Immediately the
responses of numberless attendants echoed through the place like
thunder. Presents of costly food were sent to him by all the grandees,
and his gate was absolutely blocked up by the crowds of retainers who
were constantly coming and going. When Privy Councillors came to
see him, he would rush out in haste to receive them; when
Under-Secretaries of State visited him, he made them a polite bow; but
to all below these he would hardly vouchsafe a word. The Governor of
Shansi sent him twelve singing-girls, two of whom, Ni-ni and Fairy, he
made his favourites. All day long he had nothing to do but find
amusement as best he could, until he bethought himself that formerly a
man named Wang had often assisted him with money. Thereupon he
memorialized the Throne and obtained official employment for him. Then
he recollected that there was another man to whom he owed a
long-standing grudge. He at once caused this man, who was in the
Government service, to be impeached and stripped of his rank and
dignities. Thus he squared accounts with both. One day when out in his
chair a drunken man bumped against one of his tablet-bearers.[315]
Tsêng had him seized and sent in to the mayor’s yamên, where he died
under the bamboo. Owners of land adjoining his would make him a
present of the richest portions, fearing the consequences if they did
not do so; and thus he became very wealthy, almost on a par with the
State itself. By-and-by, Ni-ni and Fairy died, and Tsêng was
overwhelmed with grief. Suddenly he remembered that in former years he
had seen a beautiful girl whom he wished to purchase as a concubine,
but want of money had then prevented him from carrying out his
intention. Now there was no longer that difficulty; and accordingly he
sent off two trusty servants to get the girl by force. In a short time
she arrived, when he found that she had grown more beautiful than
ever; and so his cup of happiness was full. But years rolled on, and
gradually his fellow-officials became estranged, Tsêng taking no
notice of their behaviour, until at last one of them impeached him to
the Throne in a long and bitter memorial. Happily, however, the
Emperor still regarded him with favour, and for some time kept the
memorial by him unanswered. Then followed a joint memorial from the
whole of the Privy Council, including those who had once thronged his
doors, and had falsely called him their dear father. The Imperial
rescript to this document was “Banishment to Yunnan,”[316] his son,
who was Governor of P‘ing-yang, being also implicated in his guilt.
When Tsêng heard the news, he was overcome with fear; but an armed
guard was already at his gate, and the lictors were forcing their way
into his innermost apartments. They tore off his robe and official
hat, and bound him and his wife with cords. Then they collected
together in the hall his gold, his silver, and bank-notes,[317] to the
value of many hundred thousands of taels. His pearls, and jade, and
precious stones filled many bushel baskets. His curtains, and screens,
and beds, and other articles of furniture were brought out by
thousands; while the swaddling-clothes of his infant boy and the shoes
of his little girl were lying littered about the steps. It was a sad
sight for Tsêng; but a worse blow was that of his concubine carried
off almost lifeless before his eyes, himself not daring to utter a
word. Then all the apartments, store-rooms, and treasuries were sealed
up; and, with a volley of curses, the soldiers bade Tsêng begone, and
proceeded to leave the place, dragging Tsêng with them. The husband
and wife prayed that they might be allowed some old cart, but this
favour was denied them. After about ten _li_, Tsêng’s wife could
barely walk, her feet being swollen and sore. Tsêng helped her along
as best he could, but another ten _li_ reduced him to a state of
abject fatigue. By-and-by they saw before them a great mountain, the
summit of which was lost in the clouds; and, fearing they should be
made to ascend it, Tsêng and his wife stood still and began to weep.
The lictors, however, clamoured round them, and would permit of no
rest. The sun was rapidly sinking, and there was no place at hand
where they could obtain shelter for the night. So they continued on
their weary way until about half-way up the hill, when his wife’s
strength was quite exhausted, and she sat down by the roadside. Tsêng,
too, halted to rest in spite of the soldiers and their abuse; but they
had hardly stopped a moment before down came a band of robbers upon
them, each with a sharp knife in his hand. The soldiers immediately
took to their heels, and Tsêng fell on his knees before the robbers,
saying, “I am a poor criminal going into banishment, and have nothing
to give you. I pray you spare my life.” But the robbers sternly
replied, “We are all the victims of your crimes, and now we want your
wicked head.” Then Tsêng began to revile them, saying, “Dogs! though I
am under sentence of banishment, I am still an officer of the State.”
But the robbers cursed him again, flourishing a sword over his neck,
and the next thing he heard was the noise of his own head as it fell
with a thud to the ground. At the same instant two devils stepped
forward and seized him each by one hand, compelling him to go with
them. After a little while they arrived at a great city where there
was a hideously ugly king sitting upon a throne judging between good
and evil. Tsêng crawled before him on his hands and knees to receive
sentence, and the king, after turning over a few pages of his
register, thundered out, “The punishment of a traitor who has brought
misfortune on his country: the cauldron of boiling oil!” To this ten
thousand devils responded with a cry like a clap of thunder, and one
huge monster led Tsêng down alongside the cauldron, which was seven
feet in height, and surrounded on all sides by blazing fuel, so that
it was of a glowing red heat. Tsêng shrieked for mercy, but it was all
up with him, for the devil seized him by the hair and the small of his
back and pitched him headlong in. Down he fell with a splash, and rose
and sank with the bubbling of the oil, which ate through his flesh
into his very vitals. He longed to die, but death would not come to
him. After about half-an-hour’s boiling, a devil took him out on a
pitchfork and threw him down before the Infernal King, who again
consulted his note-book, and said, “You relied on your position to
treat others with contumely and injustice, for which you must suffer
on the Sword-Hill.” Again he was led away by devils to a large hill
thickly studded with sharp swords, their points upwards like the
shoots of bamboo, with here and there the remains of many miserable
wretches who had suffered before him. Tsêng again cried for mercy and
crouched upon the ground; but a devil bored into him with a poisoned
awl until he screamed with pain. He was then seized and flung up high
into the air, falling down right on the sword points, to his most
frightful agony. This was repeated several times until he was almost
hacked to pieces. He was then brought once more before the king, who
asked what was the amount of his peculations while on earth.
Immediately an accountant came forward with an abacus, and said that
the whole sum was 3,210,000 taels, whereupon the king replied, “Let
him drink that amount.” Forthwith the devils piled up a great heap of
gold and silver, and, when they had melted it in a huge crucible,
began pouring it into Tsêng’s mouth. The pain was excruciating as the
molten metal ran down his throat into his vitals; but since in life he
had never been able to get enough of the dross, it was determined he
should feel no lack of it then. He was half-a-day drinking it, and
then the king ordered him away to be born again as a woman[318] in
Kan-chou. A few steps brought them to a huge frame, where on an iron
axle revolved a mighty wheel many hundred _yojanas_[319] in
circumference, and shining with a brilliant light. The devils flogged
Tsêng on to the wheel, and he shut his eyes as he stepped up. Then
whiz--and away he went, feet foremost, round with the wheel, until he
felt himself tumble off and a cold thrill ran through him, when he
opened his eyes and found he was changed into a girl. He saw his
father and mother in rags and tatters, and in one corner a beggar’s
bowl and a staff,[320] and understood the calamity that had befallen
him. Day after day he begged about the streets, and his inside rumbled
for want of food; he had no clothes to his back. At fourteen years of
age he was sold to a gentleman as concubine; and then, though food and
clothes were not wanting, he had to put up with the scoldings and
floggings of the wife, who one day burnt him with a hot iron.[321]
Luckily the gentleman took a fancy to him and treated him well, which
kindness Tsêng repaid by an irreproachable fidelity. It happened,
however, that on one occasion when they were chatting together,
burglars broke into the house and killed the gentleman, Tsêng having
escaped by hiding himself under the bed. Thereupon he was immediately
charged by the wife with murder, and on being taken before the
authorities was sentenced to die the “lingering death.”[322] This
sentence was at once carried out with tortures more horrible than any
in all the Courts of Purgatory, in the middle of which Tsêng heard one
of his companions call out, “Hullo, there! you’ve got the nightmare.”
Tsêng got up and rubbed his eyes, and his friends said, “It’s quite
late in the day, and we’re all very hungry.” But the old priest
smiled, and asked him if the prophecy as to his future rank was true
or not. Tsêng bowed and begged him to explain; whereupon the old
priest said, “For those who cultivate virtue, a lily will grow up even
in the fiery pit.”[323] Tsêng had gone thither full of pride and
vainglory; he went home an altered man. From that day he thought no
more of becoming a Secretary of State, but retired into the hills, and
I know not what became of him after that.
FOOTNOTES:
[311] That is, of rising to the highest offices of State.
[312] The Chinese term used throughout is “star-man.”
[313] Chinese official life is divided into nine grades.
[314] Prostrating himself three times, and knocking his head on the
ground thrice at each prostration.
[315] The _retinue_ of a high mandarin is composed as follows:--First,
gong-bearers, then bannermen, tablet-bearers (on which tablets are
inscribed the titles of the official), a large red umbrella, mounted
attendants, a box containing a change of clothes, bearers of regalia,
a second gong, a small umbrella or sunshade, a large wooden fan,
executioners, lictors from hell, who wear tall hats; a mace (called a
“golden melon”), bamboos for “bambooing,” incense-bearers, more
attendants, and now the great man himself, followed by a body-guard of
soldiers and a few personal attendants, amounting in all to nearly one
hundred persons, many of whom are mere street-rowdies or beggars,
hired at a trifling outlay when required to join what might otherwise
be an imposing procession. The scanty _retinues_ of foreign officials
in China still continue to excite the scorn of the populace, who love
to compare the rag-tag and bob-tail magnificence of their own
functionaries with the modest show even of H.B.M.’s Minister at
Peking.
[316] A land journey of about three months, ending in a region which
the Chinese have always regarded as semi-barbarous.
[317] This use of paper money in China is said to date from A.D. 1236;
that is, during the reign of the Mongol Emperor, Ogdai Khan.
[318] This contingency is much dreaded by the Chinese.
[319] A _yojana_ has been variously estimated at from five to nine
English miles.
[320] The _patra_ and _khakkharam_ of the _bikshu_ or Buddhist
mendicant.
[321] It is not considered quite correct to take a concubine unless
the wife is childless, in which case it is held that the proposition
to do so, and thus secure the much-desired posterity, should emanate
from the wife herself. On page 41 of Vol. XIII., of this author, we
read, “and if at thirty years of age you have no children, then sell
your hair-pins and other ornaments, and buy a concubine for your
husband. For the childless state is a hard one to bear;” or, as Victor
Hugo puts it in his _Légende des Siècles_, there is nothing so sad as
“la maison sans enfants.”
[322] This is the celebrated form of death, reserved for parricide and
similar awful crimes, about which so much has been written. Strictly
speaking, the malefactor should be literally chopped to pieces in
order to prolong his agonies; but the sentence is now rarely, if ever,
carried out in its extreme sense. A few gashes are made upon the
wretched victim’s body, and he is soon put out of his misery by
decapitation. As a matter of fact, this death is not enumerated among
the _Five Punishments_ authorized by the Penal Code of the present
dynasty. See No. LV., note 306.
[323] Alluding to a well-known Buddhist miracle in which a _bikshu_
was to be thrown into a cauldron of boiling water in a fiery pit, when
suddenly a lotus-flower came forth, the fire was extinguished, and the
water became cold.
LVII.
THE COUNTRY OF THE CANNIBALS.[324]