Two thousand years ago, in the time of the Han dynasty, there lived in
China a man by the name of Chun Yü I. He was a small official and,
because of some offence by which he had angered his superior, he was
sentenced to have his feet cut off.
Great was the sorrow in the home when the decision was made known. No
fires were lighted in the kitchen, for no one could think of eating.
With deep sighs and bitter tears Mr. Chun bewailed his fate. “Alas!
alas!” said he; “how bitter is my lot! Had I a son he would suffer for
me. To me have come five daughters. Ah! had the gods only been good and
given me one son! What can girls do? Indeed I am accursed.”
Hour by hour he thus lamented. His wife and children mourned and
fasted, but “Alas! what can we do?” was their hopeless cry.
The fateful day came when the father must go to the capital, there to
receive his punishment.
In the early morning his little daughter “Glory,” only ten years old,
came and knelt down before him, and with many tears besought him to
allow her to accompany him. He refused, but she persisted with
prostrations and knockings of her head on the brick floor.
“If you do not let me go I can but die. How can I live through these
days and not know how you are? I must go. Indeed I either go or die.”
All of these words were accompanied with so many knocks of the little
head on the bricks at his feet that the father gave way and told her
mother and the servants to get her and her nurse ready for the journey.
On the road she told the servants that, as early as possible, after
reaching the city they must find a way for her to see the Emperor, for
she was going to plead for her father.
Now, in those days the Emperor of China was not shut away from his
people as he was later, and little Glory was taken by her father’s
steward to the palace gate. Here she knocked her head to the soldiers
on guard and asked to be allowed to see the Emperor.
The hearts of the rough men were touched by her distress and sweet,
pleading little face and the request was sent in to the palace. Word
came back that little Glory was to enter. With trembling hands and
quivering lips, but shining eyes, she knelt before her Emperor. Many
times did she make her prostrations, and at his command she told her
story with much weeping.
She told him how good and kind her father was; that every one loved
him; he had never made a mistake before, and indeed the thing for which
he was to be punished had been much exaggerated. She finished with, “O
Great Emperor, I entreat you to allow me to become one of your slaves
and thus redeem my father’s mistake, and secure his pardon. I shall
have long years to serve you, and my father is old. Alas! alas! the
gods have given him no son to plead for him, and I am but a little
girl! I entreat, I beg, oh, hear me, Great and Glorious Emperor, spare
my father and let me be your slave forever.”
The Emperor’s heart was melted within him as he looked upon her
distress and heard her voice so full of anguish; and, telling her to
rise and stand near him, he said, “You are indeed a filial daughter. A
country with such an one is blest like the possessor of a precious
jewel. I pardon your father and restore his official position; and you
may go home with him.”
The Emperor then called his ministers and commanded them to have it
published abroad that from that day the punishment of cutting off the
hands and feet of criminals was to be done away with forever. “This,”
said he, “is an expression of my pleasure that such a daughter of the
gods lives within the ‘four seas.’”
When little Glory was taken to the prison where her father was
confined, she knelt before him and told him of her visit to the palace
and the Emperor’s promise. Great was his surprise that his little
daughter had saved him, and it was with difficulty they convinced him
of the truth of her story.
When he could no longer doubt he said, “My life is sweet because the
gods have given me such a daughter. What need have I of sons?”