Li Yüeh-shêng was the second son of a rich old man who used to bury

his money, and who was known to his fellow-townsmen as “Old Crocks.”

One day the father fell sick, and summoned his sons to divide the

property between them.[683] He gave four-fifths to the elder and only

one-fifth to the younger, saying to the latter, “It is not that I love

your brother more than I love you: I have other money stored away, and

when you are alone I will hand that over to you.” A few days

afterwards the old man grew worse, and Yüeh-shêng, afraid that his

father might die at any moment, seized an opportunity of seeing him

alone to ask about the money that he himself was to receive. “Ah,”

replied the dying man, “the sum of our joys and of our sorrows is

determined by fate. You are now happy in the possession of a virtuous

wife, and have no right to an increase of wealth.” For, as a matter of

fact, this second son was married to a lady from the Ch‘ê family whose

virtue equalled that of any of the heroines of history: hence his

father’s remark. Yüeh-shêng, however, was not satisfied, and implored

to be allowed to have the money; and at length the old man got angry

and said, “You are only just turned twenty; you have known none of the

trials of life, and were I to give a thousand ounces of gold, it would

soon be all spent. Go! and, until you have drunk the cup of bitterness

to its dregs, expect no money from me.” Now Yüeh-shêng was a filial

son, and when his father spoke thus he did not venture to say any

more, and hoped for his speedy recovery that he might have a chance of

coaxing him to comply with his request. But the old man got worse and

worse, and at length died; whereupon the elder brother took no trouble

about the funeral ceremonies, leaving it all to the younger, who,

being an open-handed fellow, made no difficulties about the expense.

The latter was also fond of seeing a great deal of company at his

house, and his wife often had to get three or four meals a-day ready

for guests; and, as her husband did very little towards looking after

his affairs, and was further sponged upon by all the needy ones of the

neighbourhood, they were soon reduced to a state of poverty. The elder

brother helped them to keep body and soul together, but he died

shortly afterwards, and this resource was cut off from them. Then, by

dint of borrowing in the spring and repaying in the autumn,[684] they

still managed to exist, until at last it came to parting with their

land, and they were left actually destitute. At that juncture their

eldest son died, followed soon after by his mother; and Yüeh-shêng was

left almost by himself in the world. He now married the widow of a

sheep-dealer, who had a little capital; and she was very strict with

him, and wouldn’t let him waste time and money with his friends. One

night his father appeared to him and said, “My son, you have drained

your cup of bitterness to the dregs. You shall now have the money. I

will bring it to you.” When Yüeh-shêng woke up, he thought it was

merely a poor man’s dream; but the next day, while laying the

foundations of a wall, he did come upon a quantity of gold. And then

he knew what his father had meant by “when you are alone;” for of

those about him at that time, more than half were gone.

FOOTNOTES:

[683] The Law of Inheritance, as it obtains in China, has been ably

illustrated by Mr. Chal. Alabaster in Vols. V. and VI. of the _China

Review_. This writer states that “there seems to be no absolutely

fixed law in regard either of inheritance or testamentary dispositions

of property, but certain general principles are recognised which the

court will not allow to be disregarded without sufficient cause.” As a

rule the sons, whether by wife or concubine, share equally, and in

preference to daughters, even though there should be a written will in

favour of the latter.

[684] This has reference to the “seed-time and harvest.”

CLXI.

THE BOATMEN OF LAO-LUNG.

When His Excellency Chu was Viceroy of Kuangtung, there were constant

complaints from the traders of mysterious disappearances; sometimes as

many as three or four of them disappearing at once and never being

seen or heard of again. At length the number of such cases, filed of

course against some person or persons unknown, multiplied to such an

extent that they were simply put on record, and but little notice was

further taken of them by the local officials. Thus, when His

Excellency entered upon his duties, he found more than a hundred

plaints of the kind, besides innumerable cases in which the missing

man’s relatives lived at a distance and had not instituted

proceedings. The mystery so preyed upon the new Viceroy’s mind that he

lost all appetite for food; and when, finally, all the inquiries he

had set on foot resulted in no clue to an elucidation of these strange

disappearances, then His Excellency proceeded to wash and purify

himself, and, having notified the Municipal God,[685] he took to

fasting and sleeping in his study alone. While he was in ecstasy, lo!

an official entered, holding a tablet in his hand, and said that he

had come from the Municipal temple with the following instructions to

the Viceroy:--

“Snow on the whiskers descending:

Live clouds falling from heaven:

Wood in water buoyed up:

In the wall an opening effected.”

The official then retired, and the Viceroy waked up; but it was only

after a night of tossing and turning that he hit upon what seemed to

him the solution of the enigma. “The first line,” argued he, “must

signify _old_ (_lao_ in Chinese); the second refers to the

_dragon_[686] (_lung_ in Chinese); the third is clearly a _boat_; and

the fourth a _door_ here taken in its secondary sense--_man_.” Now, to

the east of the province, not far from the pass by which traders from

the north connect their line of trade with the southern seas, there

was actually a ferry known as the Old Dragon (_Lao-lung_); and thither

the Viceroy immediately despatched a force to arrest those employed in

carrying people backwards and forwards. More than fifty men were

caught, and they all confessed at once without the application of

torture. In fact, they were bandits under the guise of boatmen;[687]

and after beguiling passengers on board, they would either drug them

or burn stupefying incense until they were senseless, finally cutting

them open and putting a large stone inside to make the body sink. Such

was the horrible story, the discovery of which brought throngs to the

Viceroy’s door to serenade him in terms of gratitude and praise.[688]

FOOTNOTES:

[685] See No. I., note 36.

[686] Clouds being naturally connected in every Chinaman’s mind with

these fabulous creatures, the origin of which has been traced by some

to waterspouts. See No. LXXXI., note 439.

[687] “Boat-men” is the solution of the last two lines of the enigma.

[688] The commentator actually supplies a list of the persons who

signed a congratulatory petition to the Viceroy on the arrest and

punishment of the criminals.

CLXII.

THE PIOUS SURGEON.

A certain veterinary surgeon, named Hou, was carrying food to his

field labourers, when suddenly a whirlwind arose in his path. Hou

seized a spoon and poured out a libation of gruel, whereupon the wind

immediately dropped. On another occasion, he was wandering about the

municipal temple when he noticed an image of Liu Ch‘üan presenting the

melon,[689] in whose eye was a great splotch of dirt. “Dear me, Sir

Liu!” cried Hou, “who has been ill-using you like this?” He then

scraped away the dirt with his finger-nail, and passed on. Some years

afterwards, as he was lying down very ill, two lictors walked in and

carried him off to a yamên, where they insisted on his bribing them

heavily. Hou was at his wits’ end what to do; but just at that moment

a personage dressed in green robes came forth, who was greatly

astonished at seeing him there, and asked what it all meant. Our hero

at once explained; whereupon the man in green turned upon the lictors

and abused them for not shewing proper respect to Mr. Hou. Meanwhile a

drum sounded like the roll of thunder, and the man in green told Hou

that it was for the morning session, and that he would have to attend.

Leading Hou within he put him in his proper place, and, promising to

inquire into the charge against him, went forward and whispered a few

words to one of the clerks. “Oh,” said the latter, advancing and

making a bow to the veterinary surgeon, “yours is a trifling matter.

We shall merely have to confront you with a horse, and then you can go

home again.” Shortly afterwards, Hou’s case was called; upon which he

went forward and knelt down, as did also a horse which was prosecuting

him. The judge now informed Hou that he was accused by the horse of

having caused its death by medicines, and asked him if he pleaded

guilty or not guilty. “My lord,” replied Hou, “the prosecutor was

attacked by the cattle-plague, for which I treated him accordingly;

and he actually recovered from the disease, though he died on the

following day. Am I to be held responsible for that?” The horse now

proceeded to tell his story; and after the usual cross-examination and

cries for justice, the judge gave orders to look up the horse’s term

of life in the Book of Fate. Therein it appeared that the animal’s

destiny had doomed it to death on the very day on which it had died;

whereupon the judge cried out, “Your term of years had already

expired; why bring this false charge? Away with you!” and turning to

Hou, the judge added, “You are a worthy man, and may be permitted to

live.” The lictors were accordingly instructed to escort him back, and

with them went out both the clerk and the man in green clothes, who

bade the lictors take every possible care of Hou by the way. “You

gentlemen are very kind,” said Hou, “but I haven’t the honour of your

acquaintance, and should be glad to know to whom I am so much

indebted.” “Three years ago,” replied the man in green, “I was

travelling in your neighbourhood, and was suffering very much from

thirst, which you relieved for me by a few spoonfuls of gruel. I have

not forgotten that act.” “And my name,” observed the other, “is

Liu Ch‘üan. You once took a splotch of dirt out of my eye that was

troubling me very much. I am only sorry that the wine and food we have

down here is unsuitable to offer you. Farewell.” Hou now understood

all that had happened, and went off home with the two lictors where he

would have regaled them with some refreshment, but they refused to

take even a cup of tea. He then waked up and found that he had been

dead for two days. From this time forth he led a more virtuous life

than ever, always pouring out libations to Liu Ch‘üan at all the

festivals of the year. Thus he reached the age of eighty, a hale and

hearty man, still able to sit in the saddle; until one day he met

Liu Ch‘üan riding on horseback, as if about to make a long journey.

After a little friendly conversation, the latter said to him, “Your

time is up, and the warrant for your arrest is already issued; but I

have ordered the constables to delay awhile, and you can now spend

three days in preparing for death, at the expiration of which I will

come and fetch you. I have purchased a small appointment for you in

the realms below,[690] by which you will be more comfortable.” So Hou

went home and told his wife and children; and after collecting his

friends and relatives, and making all necessary preparations, on the

evening of the fourth day he cried out, “Liu Ch‘üan has come!” and,

getting into his coffin,[691] lay down and died.

FOOTNOTES:

[689] When the soul of the Emperor T‘ai Tsung of the T‘ang dynasty was

in the infernal regions, it promised to send Yen-lo (the Chinese

_Yama_ or Pluto) a melon; and when His Majesty recovered from the

trance into which he had been plunged, he gave orders that his promise

was to be fulfilled. Just then a man, named Liu Ch‘üan, observed a

priest with a hairpin belonging to his wife, and misconstruing the

manner in which possession of it had been obtained, abused his wife so

severely that she committed suicide. Liu Ch‘üan himself then

determined to follow her example, and convey the melon to Yen-lo; for

which act he was subsequently deified. See the _Hsi-yu-chi_, Section

XI.

[690] As the Chinese believe that their disembodied spirits proceed to

a world organised on much the same model as the one they know, so do

they think that there will be social distinctions of rank and

emolument proportioned to the merits of each.

[691] A dying man is almost always moved into his coffin to die; and

aged persons frequently take to sleeping regularly in the coffins

provided against the inevitable hour by the pious thoughtfulness of a

loving son. Even in middle life Chinese like to see their coffins

ready for them, and store them sometimes on their own premises,

sometimes in the outhouses of a neighbouring temple.

CLXIII.

ANOTHER SOLOMON.

At T‘ai-yüan there lived a middle-aged woman with her widowed

daughter-in-law. The former was on terms of too great intimacy with a

notably bad character of the neighbourhood; and the latter, who

objected very strongly to this, did her best to keep the man from the

house. The elder woman accordingly tried to send the other back to her

family, but she would not go; and at length things came to such a pass

that the mother-in-law actually went to the mandarin of the place and

charged her daughter-in-law with the offence she herself was

committing. When the mandarin inquired the name of the man concerned,

she said she had only seen him in the dark and didn’t know who he was,

referring him for information to the accused. The latter, on being

summoned, gave the man’s name, but retorted the charge on her

mother-in-law; and when the man was confronted with them, he promptly

declared both their stories to be false. The mandarin, however, said

there was a _primâ facie_ case against him, and ordered him to be

severely beaten, whereupon he confessed that it was the

daughter-in-law whom he went to visit. This the woman herself flatly

denied, even under torture; and on being released, appealed to a

higher court, with a very similar result. Thus the case dragged on,

until a Mr. Sun, who was well-known for his judicial acumen, was

appointed district magistrate at that place. Calling the parties

before him, he bade his lictors prepare stones and knives, at which

they were much exercised in their minds, the severest tortures allowed

by law being merely gyves and fetters.[692] However, everything was

got ready, and the next day Mr. Sun proceeded with his investigation.

After hearing all that each one of the three had to say, he delivered

the following judgment:--“The case is a simple one; for although I

cannot say which of you two women is the guilty one, there is no doubt

about the man, who has evidently been the means of bringing discredit

on a virtuous family. Take those stones and knives there and put him

to death. I will be responsible.” Thereupon the two women began to

stone the man, especially the younger one, who seized the biggest

stones she could see and threw them at him with all the might of her

pent-up anger; while the mother-in-law chose small stones and struck

him on non-vital parts.[693] So with the knives: the daughter-in-law

would have killed him at the first blow, had not the mandarin stopped

her, and said, “Hold! I now know who is the guilty woman.” The

mother-in-law was then tortured until she confessed, and the case was

thus terminated.

FOOTNOTES:

[692] See No. LXXIII., note 417.

[693] The Chinese distinguish sixteen vital spots on the front of the

body and six on the back, with thirty-six and twenty non-vital spots

in similar positions, respectively. They allow, however, that a severe

blow on a non-vital spot might cause death, and _vice versâ_.

CLXIV.

THE INCORRUPT OFFICIAL.

Mr. Wu, Sub-prefect of Chi-nan, was an upright man, and would have no

share in the bribery and corruption which was extensively carried on,

and at which the higher authorities connived, and in the proceeds of

which they actually shared. The Prefect tried to bully him into

adopting a similar plan, and went so far as to abuse him in violent

language; upon which Mr. Wu fired up and exclaimed, “Though I am but a

subordinate official, you should impeach me for anything you have

against me in the regular way; you have not the right to abuse me

thus. Die I may, but I will never consent to degrade my office and

turn aside the course of justice for the sake of filthy lucre.” At

this outbreak the Prefect changed his tone, and tried to soothe

him.... [How dare people accuse the age of being corrupt, when it is

themselves who will not walk in the straight path.] One day after this

a certain fox-medium[694] came to the Prefect’s yamên just as a feast

was in full swing, and was thus addressed by a guest:--“You who

pretend to know everything, say how many officials there are in this

Prefecture.” “_One_,” replied the medium; at which the company laughed

heartily, until the medium continued, “There are really seventy-two

holders of office, but Mr. Sub-prefect Wu is the only one who can

justly be called an official.”

FOOTNOTE:

[694] Certain classes of soothsayers are believed by the Chinese to be

possessed by foxes, which animals have the power of looking into the

future, &c., &c.

APPENDIX A.

Visitors to Chinese temples of the Taoist persuasion usually make at

once for what is popularly known amongst foreigners as the “Chamber of

Horrors.” These belong specially to Taoism, or the ethics of Right in

the abstract, as opposed to abstract Wrong, and are not found in

temples consecrated to the religion of Buddha. Modern Taoism, however,

once a purely metaphysical system, is now so leavened with the

superstitions of Buddhism, and has borrowed so much material from its

younger rival, that an ordinary Chinaman can hardly tell one from the

other, and generally regards them as to all intents and purposes the

same. These rightly-named Chambers of Horrors--for Madame Tussaud has

nothing more ghastly to show in the whole of her wonderful

collection--represent the Ten Courts of Purgatory, through some or all

of which erring souls must pass before they are suffered to be born

again into the world under another form, or transferred to the eternal

bliss reserved for the righteous alone. As a description of these Ten

Courts may not be uninteresting to some of my readers, and as the

subject has a direct bearing upon many of the stories in the previous

collection, I hereto append my translation of a well-known Taoist

work[695] which is circulated gratuitously all over the Chinese Empire

by people who are anxious to lay up a store of good works against the

day of reckoning to come. Those who are acquainted with Dante’s

_Divine Comedy_ will recollect that the poet’s idea of a Christian

Purgatory was a series of nine lessening circles arranged one above

the other, so as to form a cone. The Taoist believes that his

Purgatory consists of Ten Courts of Justice situated in different

positions at the bottom of a great ocean which lies down in the

depths of the earth. These are sub-divided into special wards,

different forms of torture being inflicted in each. A perusal of this

work will shew what punishments the wicked Chinaman has to expect in

the unseen world, and by what means he may hope to obtain a partial or

complete remission of his sins.

_The “Divine Panorama,” published by the Mercy of Yü Ti,[696] that Men

and Women may repent them of their Faults and make Atonement for their

Crimes._

On the birthday of the Saviour P‘u-sa,[697] as the spirits of

Purgatory were thronging round to offer their congratulations, the

ruler of the Infernal Regions spake as follows:--“My wish is to

release all souls, and every moon as this day comes round I would

wholly or partially remit the punishment of erring shades, and give

them life once more in one of the Six Paths.[698] But alas! the wicked

are many and the virtuous few. Nevertheless, the punishments in the

dark region are too severe, and require some modification. Any wicked

soul that repents and induces one or two others to do likewise shall

be allowed to set this off against the punishments which should be

inflicted.” The Judges of the Ten Courts of Purgatory then agreed that

all who led virtuous lives from their youth upwards shall be escorted

at their death to the land of the Immortals; that all whose balance of

good and evil is exact shall escape the bitterness of the Three

States,[699] and be born again among men; that those who have repaid

their debts of gratitude and friendship, and fulfilled their destiny,

yet have a balance of evil against them, shall pass through the

various Courts of Purgatory and then be born again amongst men, rich,

poor, old, young, diseased or crippled, to be put a second time upon

trial. Then, if they behave well they may enter into some happy state;

but if badly, they will be dragged by horrid devils through all the

Courts, suffering bitterly as they go, and will again be born, to

endure in life the uttermost of poverty and wretchedness, in death the

everlasting tortures of hell. Those who are disloyal, unfilial, who

commit suicide, take life, or disbelieve the doctrine of Cause and

Effect,[700] saying to themselves that when a man dies there is an

end of him, that when he has lost his skin[701] he has already

suffered the worst that can befall him, that living men can be

tortured, but no one ever saw a man’s ghost in the pillory, that after

death all is unknown, etc., etc.,--truly these men do not know that

the body alone perishes but the soul lives for ever and ever; and that

whatsoever evil they do in this life, the same will be done unto them

in the life to come. All who commit such crimes are handed over to the

everlasting tortures of hell; for alas! in spite of the teachings of

the Three Systems[702] some will persist in regarding these warnings

as vain and empty talk. Lightly they speak of Divine mercy, and

knowingly commit many crimes, not more than one in a hundred ever

coming to repentance. Therefore the punishments of Purgatory were

strictly carried out and the tortures dreadfully severe. But now it

has been mercifully ordained that any man or woman, young, old, weak

or strong, who may have sinned in any way, shall be permitted to

obtain remission of the same by keeping his or her thoughts constantly

fixed on P‘u-sa and on the birthdays of the Judges of the Ten Courts,

by fasting and prayer, and by vows never to sin again. Or for every

good work done in life they shall be allowed to escape one ward in the

Courts below. From this rule to be excepted disloyal ministers,

unfilial sons, suicides, those who plot in secret against good people,

those who are struck by lightning (_lit._ thunder), those who perish

by flood or fire, by wild animals or poisonous reptiles[703]--these to

pass through all the Courts and be punished according to their

deserts. All other sinners to be allowed to claim their good works as

a set-off against evil, thus partly escaping the agonies of hell and

receiving some reward for their virtuous deeds.

This account of man’s wickedness on the earth and the punishments in

store for him was written in language intelligible to every man and

woman, and was submitted for the approval of P‘u-sa, the intention

being to wait the return[704] of some virtuous soul among the sons of

men, and by these means publish it all over the earth. When P‘u-sa saw

what had been done, he said it was good; and on the 3rd of 8th moon

proceeded with the ten Judges of Purgatory to lay this book before

God.[705]

Then God said, “Good indeed! Good indeed! henceforth let all spirits

take note of any mortal who vows to lead a virtuous life and,

repenting, promises to sin no more. Two punishments shall be remitted

him. And if, in addition to this, he succeeds in doing five virtuous

acts, then he shall escape all punishment and be born again in some

happy state--if a woman she shall be born as a man. But more than five

virtuous acts shall enable such a soul to obtain the salvation of

others, and redeem wife and family from the tortures of hell. Let

these regulations be published in the _Divine Panorama_ and circulated

on earth by the spirits of the City Guardian.[706] In fear and

trembling obey this decree and carry it reverently into effect.”

THE FIRST COURT.

His Infernal Majesty Ch‘in Kuang is specially in charge of the

register of life and death both for old and young, and presides at the

judgment-seat in the lower regions. His court is situated in the great

Ocean, away beyond the Wu-chiao rock,[707] far to the west near the

murky road which leads to the Yellow Springs.[708] Every man and woman

dying in old age whose fate it is to be born again into the world, if

their tale of good and evil works is equally balanced, are sent to the

First Court, and thence transferred back to Life, male becoming

female, female male, rich poor, and poor rich, according to their

several deserts. But those whose good deeds are outnumbered by their

bad are sent to a terrace on the right of the Court, called the

Terrace of the Mirror of Sin, ten feet in height. The mirror is about

fifty feet[709] in circumference and hangs towards the east. Above are

seven characters written horizontally:--“Sin Mirror Terrace upon no

good men.” There the wicked souls are able to see the naughtiness of

their own hearts while they were among the living, and the danger of

death and hell. Then do they realize the proverb,--

“Ten thousand taels of yellow gold cannot be brought away:

But every crime will tell its tale upon the judgment day.”

When the souls have been to the Terrace and seen their wickednesses,

they are forwarded into the Second Court, where they are tortured and

dismissed to the proper hell.

Strange Stories from a Chinese Studio (Volumes 1 and 2) · 第 45 / 48 段