will usually pass people in and out by means of a ladder placed
against the wall at some convenient spot.
[599] I believe it is with us only a recently determined fact that
dogs perspire through the skin.
CXXVIII.
AN EARTHQUAKE.
In 1668 there was a very severe earthquake.[600] I myself was staying
at Chi-hsia, and happened to be that night sitting over a kettle of
wine with my cousin Li Tu. All of a sudden we heard a noise like
thunder, travelling from the south-east in a north-westerly direction.
We were much astonished at this, and quite unable to account for the
noise; in another moment the table began to rock, and the wine-cups
were upset; the beams and supports of the house snapped here and there
with a crash, and we looked at each other in fear and trembling.
By-and-by we knew that it was an earthquake; and, rushing out, we saw
houses and other buildings, as it were, fall down and get up again;
and, amidst the sounds of crushing walls, we heard the shrieks of
women and children, the whole mass being like a great seething
cauldron. Men were giddy and could not stand, but rolled about on the
ground; the river overflowed its banks; cocks crowed, and dogs barked
from one end of the city to the other. In a little while the quaking
began to subside; and then might be seen men and women running half
naked about the streets, all anxious to tell their own experiences,
and forgetting that they had on little or no clothing. I subsequently
heard that a well was closed up and rendered useless by this
earthquake; that a house was turned completely round, so as to face
the opposite direction; that the Chi-hsia hill was riven open, and
that the waters of the I river flowed in and made a lake of an acre
and more. Truly such an earthquake as this is of rare occurrence.
FOOTNOTE:
[600] The exact date is given,--the 17th of the 6th moon, which would
probably fall towards the end of June.
CXXIX.
MAKING ANIMALS.
The tricks for bewitching people are many. Sometimes drugs are put in
their food, and when they eat they become dazed, and follow the person
who has bewitched them. This is commonly called _ta hsü pa_; in
Kiang-nan it is known as _ch‘ê hsü_. Little children are most
frequently bewitched in this way. There is also what is called “making
animals,” which is better known on the south side of the River.[601]
One day a man arrived at an inn in Yang-chow, leading with him five
donkeys. Tying them up near the stable, he told the landlord he would
be back in a few minutes, and bade him give his donkeys no water. He
had not been gone long before the donkeys, which were standing out in
the glare of the sun, began to kick about, and make a noise; whereupon
the landlord untied them, and was going to put them in the shade, when
suddenly they espied water, and made a rush to get at it. So the
landlord let them drink; and no sooner had the water touched their
lips than they rolled on the ground, and changed into women. In great
astonishment, the landlord asked them whence they came; but their
tongues were tied, and they could not answer, so he hid them in his
private apartments, and at that moment their owner returned, bringing
with him five sheep. The latter immediately asked the landlord where
his donkeys were; to which the landlord replied by offering him some
wine, saying, the donkeys would be brought to him directly. He then
went out and gave the sheep some water, on drinking which they were
all changed into boys. Accordingly, he communicated with the
authorities, and the stranger was arrested and forthwith beheaded.
FOOTNOTE:
[601] See No. XCVIII., note 514.
CXXX.
CRUELTY AVENGED.
A certain magistrate caused a petty oil-vendor, who was brought before
him for some trifling misdemeanour, and whose statements were very
confused, to be bambooed to death. The former subsequently rose to
high rank; and having amassed considerable wealth, set about building
himself a fine house. On the day when the great beam was to be fixed
in its place,[602] among the friends and relatives who arrived to
offer their congratulations, he was horrified to see the oilman walk
in. At the same instant one of the servants came rushing up to
announce to him the birth of a son; whereupon, he mournfully remarked,
“The house not yet finished, and its destroyer already here.” The
bystanders thought he was joking, for they had not seen what he had
seen.[603] However, when that boy grew up, by his frivolity and
extravagance he quite ruined his father. He was finally obliged
himself to go into service; and spent all his earnings in oil, which
he swallowed in large quantities.
FOOTNOTES:
[602] This corresponds to our ceremony of laying the foundation stone,
except that one commemorates the beginning, the other the completion,
of a new building.
[603] That is, the disembodied spirit of the oilman.
CXXXI.
THE WEI-CH‘I DEVIL.
A certain general, who had resigned his command, and had retired to
his own home, was very fond of roaming about and amusing himself with
wine and _wei-ch‘i_.[604] One day--it was the 9th of the 9th moon,
when everybody goes up high[605]--as he was playing with some friends,
a stranger walked up, and watched the game intently for some time
without going away. He was a miserable-looking creature, with a very
ragged coat, but nevertheless possessed of a refined and courteous
air. The general begged him to be seated, an offer which he accepted,
being all the time extremely deferential in his manner. “I suppose you
are pretty good at this,” said the general, pointing to the board;
“try a bout with one of my friends here.” The stranger made a great
many apologies in reply, but finally accepted, and played a game in
which, apparently to his great disappointment, he was beaten. He
played another with the same result; and now, refusing all offers of
wine, he seemed to think of nothing but how to get some one to play
with him. Thus he went on until the afternoon was well advanced; when
suddenly, just as he was in the middle of a most exciting game, which
depended on a single place, he rushed forward, and throwing himself at
the feet of the general, loudly implored his protection. The general
did not know what to make of this; however, he raised him up, and
said, “It’s only a game: why get so excited?” To this the stranger
replied by begging the general not to let his gardener seize him; and
when the general asked what gardener he meant, he said the man’s name
was Ma-ch‘êng. Now this Ma-ch‘êng was often employed as a lictor by
the Ruler of Purgatory, and would sometimes remain away as much as ten
days, serving the warrants of death; accordingly, the general sent off
to inquire about him, and found that he had been in a trance for two
days.[606] His master cried out that he had better not behave rudely
to his guest, but at that very moment the stranger sunk down to the
ground, and was gone. The general was lost in astonishment; however,
he now knew that the man was a disembodied spirit, and on the next
day, when Ma-ch‘êng came round, he asked him for full particulars.
“The gentleman was a native of Hu-hsiang,” replied the gardener, “who
was passionately addicted to _wei-ch‘i_, and had lost a great deal of
money by it. His father, being much grieved at his behaviour, confined
him to the house; but he was always getting out, and indulging the
fatal passion, and at last his father died of a broken heart. In
consequence of this, the Ruler of Purgatory curtailed his term of
life, and condemned him to become a hungry devil,[607] in which state
he has already passed seven years. And now that the Phœnix Tower[608]
is completed, an order has been issued for the literati to present
themselves, and compose an inscription to be cut on stone, as a
memorial thereof, by which means they would secure their own salvation
as a reward. Many of the shades failing to arrive at the appointed
time, God was very angry with the Ruler of Purgatory, and the latter
sent off me, and others who are employed in the same way, to hunt up
the defaulters. But as you, Sir, bade me treat the gentleman with
respect, I did not venture to bind him.” The general inquired what
had become of the stranger; to which the gardener replied, “He is now
a mere menial in Purgatory, and can never be born again.” “Alas!”
cried his master, “thus it is that men are ruined by any inordinate
passion.”[609]
FOOTNOTES:
[604] A most abstruse and complicated game of skill, for which the
Chinese claim an antiquity of four thousand years, and which I was the
first to introduce to a European public through an article in _Temple
Bar Magazine_ for January, 1877. _Apropos_ of which, an accomplished
American lady, Miss A. M. Fielde, of Swatow, wrote as follows:--“The
game seems to me the peer of chess.... It is a game for the slow,
persistent, astute, multitudinous Chinese; while chess, by the
picturesque appearance of the board, the variety and prominent
individuality of the men, and the erratic combination of the
attack,--is for the Anglo-Saxon.”
[605] On this day, annually dedicated to kite-flying, picnics, and
good cheer, everybody tries to get up to as great an elevation as
possible, in the hope, as some say, of thereby prolonging life. It was
this day--4th October, 1878--which was fixed for the total
extermination of foreigners in Foochow.
[606] See No. XXVI., note 180.
[607] One of the _prêtas_, or the fourth of the six paths (gâti) of
existence; the other five being (1) angels, (2) men, (3) demons, (5)
brute beasts, and (6) sinners in hell. The term is often used
colloquially for a self-invited guest.
[608] An imaginary building in the Infernal Regions.
[609] Mencius reckoned “to play _wei-ch‘i_ for money” among the five
unfilial acts.
CXXXII.
THE FORTUNE-HUNTER PUNISHED.
A certain man’s uncle had no children, and the nephew, with an eye to
his uncle’s property, volunteered to become his adopted son.[610] When
the uncle died all the property passed accordingly to his nephew, who
thereupon broke faith as to his part of the contract.[611] He did the
same with another uncle, and thus united three properties in his own
person, whereby he became the richest man of the neighbourhood.
Suddenly he fell ill, and seemed to go out of his mind; for he cried
out, “So you wish to live in wealth, do you?” and immediately seizing
a sharp knife, he began hacking away at his own body until he had
strewed the floor with pieces of flesh. He then exclaimed, “You cut
off other people’s posterity and expect to have posterity yourself, do
you?” and forthwith he ripped himself open and died. Shortly
afterwards his son, too, died, and the property fell into the hands of
strangers. Is not this a retribution to be dreaded?
FOOTNOTES:
[610] See No. LV., note 310; and No. XCIV., note 492.
[611] That is, in carrying out the obligations he had entered into,
such as conducting the ceremonies of ancestral worship, repairing the
family tombs, &c.
CXXXIII.
LIFE PROLONGED.
A certain cloth merchant of Ch‘ang-ch‘ing was stopping at T‘ai-ngan,
when he heard of a magician who was said to be very skilled in casting
nativities. So he went off at once to consult him; but the magician
would not undertake the task, saying, “Your destiny is bad: you had
better hurry home.” At this the merchant was dreadfully frightened,
and, packing up his wares, set off towards Ch‘ang-ch‘ing. On the way
he fell in with a man in short clothes,[612] like a constable; and the
two soon struck up a friendly intimacy, taking their meals together.
By-and-by the merchant asked the stranger what his business was; and
the latter told him he was going to Ch‘ang-ch‘ing to serve summonses,
producing at the same time a document and showing it to the merchant,
who, on looking closely, saw a list of names, at the head of which
was his own. In great astonishment he inquired what he had done that
he should be arrested thus; to which his companion replied, “I am not
a living being: I am a lictor in the employ of the infernal
authorities, and I presume your term of life has expired.” The
merchant burst into tears and implored the lictor to spare him, which
the latter declared was impossible; “But,” added he, “there are a
great many names down, and it will take me some time to get through
them: you go off home and settle up your affairs, and, as a slight
return for your friendship, I’ll call for you last.” A few minutes
afterwards they reached a stream where the bridge was in ruins, and
people could only cross with great difficulty; at which the lictor
remarked, “You are now on the road to death, and not a single cash can
you carry away with you. Repair this bridge and benefit the public;
and thus from a great outlay you may possibly yourself derive some
small advantage.” The merchant said he would do so; and when he got
home, he bade his wife and children prepare for his coming
dissolution, and at the same time set men to work and made the bridge
sound and strong again. Some time elapsed, but no lictor arrived; and
his suspicions began to be aroused, when one day the latter walked in
and said, “I reported that affair of the bridge to the Municipal
God,[613] who communicated it to the Ruler of Purgatory; and for that
good act your span of life has been lengthened, and your name struck
out of the list. I have now come to announce this to you.” The
merchant was profuse in his thanks; and the next time he went to
T‘ai-ngan, he burnt a quantity of paper ingots,[614] and made
offerings and libations to the lictor, out of gratitude for what he
had done. Suddenly the lictor himself appeared, and cried out, “Do you
wish to ruin me? Happily my new master has only just taken up his
post, and he has not noticed this, or where should I be?”[615] The
lictor then escorted the merchant some distance; and, at parting, bade
him never return by that road, but, if he had any business at
T‘ai-ngan, to go thither by a roundabout way.
FOOTNOTES:
[612] The long flowing robe is a sign of respectability which all but
the very poorest classes love to affect in public. At the port of
Haiphong, _shoes_ are the criterion of social standing; but, as a
rule, the well-to-do native merchants prefer to go barefoot rather
than give the authorities a chance of exacting heavier squeezes, on
the strength of such a palpable acknowledgment of wealth.
[613] See No. I., note 36.
[614] See No. LVI., note 317; and No. XCVII., note 505.
[615] The lictor had no right to divulge his errand when he first met
the cloth merchant, or to remove the latter’s name from the top to the
bottom of the list.
CXXXIV.
THE CLAY IMAGE.
On the river I there lived a man named Ma, who married a wife from the
Wang family, with whom he was very happy in his domestic life. Ma,
however, died young; and his wife’s parents were unwilling that their
daughter should remain a widow, but she resisted all their
importunities, and declared firmly she would never marry again. “It is
a noble resolve of yours, I allow,” argued her mother; “but you are
still a mere girl, and you have no children. Besides, I notice that
people who start with such rigid determinations always end by doing
something discreditable, and therefore you had better get married as
soon as you can, which is no more than is done every day.” The girl
swore she would rather die than consent, and accordingly her mother
had no alternative but to let her alone. She then ordered a clay image
to be made, exactly resembling her late husband;[616] and whenever she
took her own meals, she would set meat and wine before it, precisely
as if her husband had been there. One night she was on the point of
retiring to rest, when suddenly she saw the clay image stretch itself
and step down from the table, increasing all the while in height,
until it was as tall as a man, and neither more nor less than her own
husband. In great alarm she called out to her mother, but the image
stopped her, saying, “Don’t do that! I am but shewing my gratitude for
your affectionate care of me, and it is chill and uncomfortable in the
realms below. Such devotion as yours casts its light back on
generations gone by; and now I, who was cut off in my prime because my
father did evil, and was condemned to be without an heir, have been
permitted, in consequence of your virtuous conduct, to visit you once
again, that our ancestral line may yet remain unbroken.”[617] Every
morning at cock-crow her husband resumed his usual form and size as
the clay image; and after a time he told her that their hour of
separation had come, upon which husband and wife bade each other an
eternal farewell. By-and-by the widow, to the great astonishment of
her mother, bore a son, which caused no small amusement among the
neighbours who heard the story; and, as the girl herself had no proof
of what she stated to be the case, a certain beadle[618] of the place,
who had an old grudge against her husband, went off and informed the
magistrate of what had occurred. After some investigation, the
magistrate exclaimed, “I have heard that the children of disembodied
spirits have no shadow; and that those who have shadows are not
genuine.” Thereupon they took Ma’s child into the sunshine, and lo!
there was but a very faint shadow, like a thin vapour. The magistrate
then drew blood from the child, and smeared it on the clay image; upon
which the blood at once soaked in and left no stain. Another clay
image being produced and the same experiment tried, the blood remained
on the surface so that it could be wiped away.[619] The girl’s story
was thus acknowledged to be true; and when the child grew up, and in
every feature was the counterpart of Ma, there was no longer any room
for suspicion.
FOOTNOTES:
[616] The clay image makers of Tientsin are wonderfully clever in
taking likenesses by these means. Some of the most skilful will even
manipulate the clay behind their backs, and then, adding the proper
colours, will succeed in producing an exceedingly good resemblance.
They find, however, more difficulty with foreign faces, to which they
are less accustomed in the trade.
[617] See No. LXI., note 346.
[618] See No. LXIV., note 373.
[619] Such is the officially authorised method of determining a
doubtful relationship between a dead parent and a living child,
substituting a bone for the clay image here mentioned.
CXXXV.
DISHONESTY PUNISHED.
At Chiao-chou there lived a man named Liu Hsi-ch‘uan, who was steward
to His excellency Mr. Fa. When already over forty a son was born to
him, whom he loved very dearly, and quite spoilt by always letting him
have his own way. When the boy grew up he led a dissolute, extravagant
life, and ran through all his father’s property. By-and-by he fell
sick, and then he declared that nothing would cure him but a slice off
a fat old favourite mule they had; upon which his father had another
and more worthless animal killed; but his son found out he was being
tricked, and, after abusing his father soundly, his symptoms became
more and more alarming. The mule was accordingly killed, and some of
it was served up to the sick man; however, he only just tasted it and
sent the rest away. From that time he got gradually worse and worse,
and finally died, to the great grief of his father, who would gladly
have died too. Three or four years afterwards, as some of the
villagers were worshipping on Mount Tai, they saw a man riding on a
mule, the very image of Mr. Liu’s dead son; and, on approaching more
closely, they saw that it was actually he.[620] Jumping from his
mule,[621] he made them a salutation, and then they began to chat with
him on various subjects, always carefully avoiding that one of his own
death. They asked him what he was doing there; to which he replied
that he was only roaming about, and inquired of them in his turn at
what inn they were staying; “For,” added he, “I have an engagement
just now, but I will visit you to-morrow.” So they told him the name
of the inn, and took their leave, not expecting to see him again.
However, the next day he came, and, tying his mule to a post outside,
went in to see them. “Your father,” observed one of the villagers, “is
always thinking about you. Why do you not go and pay him a visit?” The
young man asked to whom he was alluding; and, at the mention of his
father’s name, he changed colour and said, “If he is anxious to see
me, kindly tell him that on the 7th of the 4th moon I will await him
here.” He then went away, and the villagers returned and told Mr. Liu
all that had taken place. At the appointed time the latter was very
desirous of going to see his son; but his master dissuaded him, saying
that he thought from what he knew of his son that the interview might
possibly not turn out as he would desire; “Although,” added he, “if
you are bent upon going, I should be sorry to stand in your way. Let
me, however, counsel you to conceal yourself in a cupboard, and thus,
by observing what takes place, you will know better how to act, and
avoid running into any danger.” This he accordingly did, and, when his
son came, Mr. Fa received him at the inn as before. “Where’s Mr. Liu?”
cried the son. “Oh, he hasn’t come,” replied Mr. Fa. “The old beast!
What does he mean by that?” exclaimed his son; whereupon Mr. Fa asked
him what _he_ meant by cursing his own father. “My father!” shrieked
the son; “why he’s nothing more to me than a former rascally partner
in trade, who cheated me out of all my money, and for which I have
since avenged myself on him.[622] What sort of a father is that, I
should like to know?” He then went out of the door; and his father
crept out of the cupboard from which, with the perspiration streaming
down him and hardly daring to breathe, he had heard all that had
passed, and sorrowfully wended his way home again.
FOOTNOTES:
[620] “In various savage superstitions the minute resemblance of soul
to body is forcibly stated.”--_Myths and Myth-makers_, by John Fiske,
p. 228.
[621] An important point in Chinese etiquette. It is not considered
polite for a person in a sitting position to address an equal who is
standing.
[622] By becoming his son and behaving badly to him. See No. CX., note
545, and the text to which it refers.
CXXXVI.
THE MAD PRIEST.