A History of Chinese Literature

“See where, like specks of spring-cloud in the sky,On their long northern route the wild geese fly;Together o’er the River we will roam…Ah! they go towards, and I away from home!”

Here is another in a more humorous vein: —

“The rain had been raining the whole of the day,And I had been straining and working away…What’s the trouble, O cook? You’ve no millet in store?Well, I’ve written a book which will buy us some more.”

FANG WEI-I

Taken altogether, the poetry of the present dynasty, especially that of the nineteenth century, must be written down as nothing more than artificial verse, with the art not even concealed, but grossly patent to the dullest observer. A collection of extracts from about 2000 representative poets was published in 1857, but it is very dull reading, any thoughts, save the most commonplace, being few and far between. As in every similar collection, a place is assigned to poetesses, of whom Fang Wei-i would perhaps be a favourable example. She came from a good family, and was but newly married to a promising young official when the latter died, and left her a sorrowing and childless widow. Light came to her in the darkness, and disregarding the entreaties of her father and mother, she decided to become a nun, and devote the remainder of her life to the service of Buddha. These are her farewell lines: —

“’Tis common talk how partings sadden life:There are no partings for us after death.But let that pass; now no more a wife,Will face fate’s issues to my latest breath.“The north wind whistles thro’ the mulberry grove,Daily and nightly making moan for me;I look up to the shifting sky above,No little prattler smiling on my knee.“Life’s sweetest boon is after all to die…My weeping parents still are loth to yield;Yet east and west the callow fledglings fly,And autumn’s herbage wanders far afield.“What will life bring to me an I should stay?What will death bring to me an I should go?These thoughts surge through me in the light of day,And make me conscious that at last I know.”

One of the greatest of the scholars of the present dynasty was Yüan Yüan (1764-1849). He took his third degree in 1789, and at the final examination the aged Emperor Ch’ien Lung was so struck with his talents that he exclaimed, “Who would have thought that, after passing my eightieth year, I should find another such man as this one?” He then held many high offices in succession, including the post of Governor of Chehkiang, in which he operated vigorously against the Annamese pirates and Ts’ai Ch’ien, established the tithing system, colleges, schools, and soup-kitchens, besides devoting himself to the preservation of ancient monuments. As Viceroy of the Two Kuang, he frequently came into collision with British interests, and did his best to keep a tight hand over the barbarian merchants. He was a voluminous writer on the Classics, astronomy, archæology, &c., and various important collections were produced under his patronage. Among these may be mentioned the Huang Ch’ing Ching Chieh, containing upwards of 180 separate works, and the Ch’ou Jen Chuan, a biographical dictionary of famous mathematicians of all ages, including Euclid, Newton, and Ricci, the Jesuit Father. He also published a Topography of Kuangtung, specimens of the compositions of more than 5000 poets of Kiangsi, and a large collection of inscriptions on bells and vases. He also edited the Catalogue of the Imperial Library, the large encyclopædia known as the T’ai P’ing Yü Lan, and other important works.

THE KAN YING P’IEN

Two religious works, associated with the Taoism of modern days, which have long been popular throughout China, may fitly be mentioned here. They are not to be bought in shops, but can always be obtained at temples, where large numbers are placed by philanthropists for distribution gratis. The first is the Kan Ying P’ien, or Book of Rewards and Punishments, attributed by the foolish to Lao Tzŭ himself. Its real date is quite unknown; moderate writers place it in the Sung dynasty, but even that seems far too early. Although nominally of Taoist origin, this work is usually edited in a very pronounced Buddhist setting, the fact being that Taoism and Buddhism are now so mixed up that it is impossible to draw any sharp line of demarcation between the two. As Chu Hsi says, “Buddhism stole the best features of Taoism, and Taoism stole the worst features of Buddhism; it is as though the one stole a jewel from the other, and the loser recouped the loss with a stone.” Prefixed to the Kan Ying P’ien will be found Buddhist formulæ for cleansing the mouth and body before beginning to read the text, and appeals to Maitrêya Buddha and Avalôkitêsvara. Married women and girls are advised not to frequent temples to be a spectacle for men. “If you must worship Buddha, worship the two living Buddhas (parents) you have at home; and if you must burn incense, burn it at the family altar.” We are further told that there is no time at which this book may not be read; no place in which it may not be read; and no person by whom it may not be read with profit. We are advised to study it when fasting, and not necessarily to shout it aloud, so as to be heard of men, but rather to ponder over it in the heart. The text consists of a commination said to have been uttered by Lao Tzŭ, and directed against evil-doers of all kinds. In the opening paragraphs attention is drawn to various spiritual beings who note down the good deeds and crimes of men, and lengthen or shorten their lives accordingly. Then follows a long list of wicked acts which will inevitably bring retribution in their train. These include the ordinary offences recognised by moral codes all over the world, every form of injustice and oppression, falsehood, and theft, together with not a few others of a more venial character to Western minds. Among the latter are birds’-nesting, stepping across food or human beings, cooking with dirty firewood, spitting at shooting stars and pointing at the rainbow, or even at the sun, moon, and stars. In all these cases, periods will be cut off from the life of the offender, and if his life is exhausted while any guilt still remains unexpiated, the punishment due will be carried on to the account of his descendants.

THE YÜ LI CH’AO CHUAN

The second of the two works under consideration is the Yü Li Ch’ao Chuan, a description of the Ten Courts of Purgatory in the nether world, through some or all of which every erring soul must pass before being allowed to be born again into this world under another form, or to be permanently transferred to the eternal bliss reserved for the righteous alone.

In the Fifth Court, for instance, the sinners are hurried away by bull-headed, horse-faced demons to a famous terrace, where their physical punishments are aggravated by a view of their old homes: —

“This terrace is curved in front like a bow; it looks east, west, and south. It is eighty-one li from one extreme to the other. The back part is like the string of a bow; it is enclosed by a wall of sharp swords. It is 490 feet high; its sides are knife-blades; and the whole is in sixty-three storeys. No good shade comes to this terrace; neither do those whose balance of good and evil is exact. Wicked souls alone behold their homes close by, and can see and hear what is going on. They hear old and young talking together; they see their last wishes disregarded and their instructions disobeyed. Everything seems to have undergone a change. The property they scraped together with so much trouble is dissipated and gone. The husband thinks of taking another wife; the widow meditates second nuptials. Strangers are in possession of the old estate; there is nothing to divide amongst the children. Debts long since paid are brought again for settlement, and the survivors are called upon to acknowledge claims upon the departed. Debts owed are lost for want of evidence, with endless recriminations, abuse, and general confusion, all of which falls upon the three families of the deceased. They in their anger speak ill of him that is gone. He sees his children become corrupt and his friends fall away. Some, perhaps, for the sake of bygone times, may stroke the coffin and let fall a tear, departing quickly with a cold smile. Worse than that, the wife sees her husband tortured in the yamên; the husband sees his wife victim to some horrible disease, lands gone, houses destroyed by flood or fire, and everything in unutterable confusion – the reward of former sins.”

The Sixth Court “is a vast, noisy Gehenna, many leagues in extent, and around it are sixteen wards.

“In the first, the souls are made to kneel for long periods on iron shot. In the second, they are placed up to their necks in filth. In the third, they are pounded till the blood runs out. In the fourth, their mouths are opened with iron pincers and filled full of needles. In the fifth, they are bitten by rats. In the sixth, they are enclosed in a net of thorns and nipped by locusts. In the seventh, they are crushed to a jelly. In the eighth, their skin is lacerated and they are beaten on the raw. In the ninth, their mouths are filled with fire. In the tenth, they are licked by flames. In the eleventh, they are subjected to noisome smells. In the twelfth, they are butted by oxen and trampled on by horses. In the thirteenth, their hearts are scratched. In the fourteenth, their heads are rubbed till their skulls come off. In the fifteenth, they are chopped in two at the waist. In the sixteenth, their skin is taken off and rolled up into spills.

“Those discontented ones who rail against heaven and revile earth, who are always finding fault either with the wind, thunder, heat, cold, fine weather, or rain; those who let their tears fall towards the north; who steal the gold from the inside or scrape the gilding from the outside of images; those who take holy names in vain, who show no respect for written paper, who throw down dirt and rubbish near pagodas or temples, who use dirty cook-houses and stoves for preparing the sacrificial meats, who do not abstain from eating beef and dog-flesh; those who have in their possession blasphemous or obscene books and do not destroy them, who obliterate or tear books which teach man to be good, who carve on common articles of household use the symbol of the origin of all things, the Sun and Moon and Seven Stars, the Royal Mother and the God of Longevity on the same article, or representations of any of the Immortals; those who embroider the Svastika on fancy-work, or mark characters on silk, satin, or cloth, on banners, beds, chairs, tables, or any kind of utensil; those who secretly wear clothes adorned with the dragon and the phœnix only to be trampled under foot, who buy up grain and hold until the price is exorbitantly high – all these shall be thrust into the great and noisy Gehenna, there to be examined as to their misdeeds and passed accordingly into one of the sixteen wards, whence, at the expiration of their time, they will be sent for further questioning on to the Seventh Court.”

The Tenth Court deals with the final stage of transmigration previous to rebirth in the world. It appears that in primeval ages men could remember their former lives on earth even after having passed through Purgatory, and that wicked persons often took advantage of such knowledge. To remedy this, a Terrace of Oblivion was built, and all shades are now sent thither, and are forced to drink the cup of forgetfulness before they can be born again.

“Whether they swallow much or little it matters not; but sometimes there are perverse devils who altogether refuse to drink. Then beneath their feet sharp blades start up, and a copper tube is forced down their throats, by which means they are compelled to swallow some. When they have drunk, they are raised by the attendants and escorted back by the same path. They are next pushed on to the Bitter Bamboo floating bridge, with torrents of rushing red water on either side. Half-way across they perceive written in large characters on a red cliff on the opposite side the following lines: —

“To be a man is easy, but to act up to one’s responsibilities as such is hard;Yet to be a man once again is perhaps harder still.“For those who would be born again in some happy state there is no great difficulty;It is only necessary to keep mouth and heart in harmony.”

“When the shades have read these words, they try to jump on shore, but are beaten back into the water by two huge devils. One has on a black official hat and embroidered clothes; in his hand he holds a paper pencil, and over his shoulder he carries a sharp sword. Instruments of torture hang at his waist; fiercely he glares out of his large round eyes and laughs a horrid laugh. His name is Short-Life. The other has a dirty face smeared with blood; he has on a white coat, an abacus in his hand, and a rice-sack over his shoulder. Around his neck hangs a string of paper money; his brow contracts hideously and he utters long sighs. His name is They-have-their-Reward, and his duty is to push the shades into the red water. The wicked and foolish rejoice at the prospect of being born once more as human beings, but the better shades weep and mourn that in life they did not lay up a store of virtuous acts, and thus pass away from the state of mortals for ever. Yet they all rush on to birth like an infatuated or drunken crowd, and again, in their new childhood, hanker after forbidden flavours. Then, regardless of consequences, they begin to destroy life, and thus forfeit all claims to the mercy and compassion of God. They take no thought as to the end that must overtake them; and, finally, they bring themselves once more to the same horrid plight.”

CHAPTER IV

WALL LITERATURE – JOURNALISM – WIT AND HUMOUR – PROVERBS AND MAXIMS

The death of Yüan Yüan in 1849 brings us down to the period when China began to find herself for the first time face to face with the foreigner. The opening of five ports in 1842 to comparatively unrestricted trade, followed by more ports and right of residence in Peking from 1860, created points of contact and brought about foreign complications to which the governors of China had hitherto been unused. A Chinese Horace might well complain that the audacious brood of England have by wicked fraud introduced journalism into the Empire, and that evils worse than consumption and fevers have followed in its train.

PROCLAMATIONS

From time immemorial wall-literature has been a feature in the life of a Chinese city surpassing in extent and variety that of any other nation, and often playing a part fraught with much danger to the community at large. Generally speaking, the literature of the walls covers pretty much the same ground as an ordinary English newspaper, from the “agony” column downwards. For, mixed up with notices of lost property, consisting sometimes of human beings, and advertisements of all kinds of articles of trade, such as one would naturally look for in the handbill literature of any city, there are to be found announcements of new and startling remedies for various diseases or of infallible pills for the cure of depraved opium-smokers, long lists of the names of subscribers to some coming festival or to the pious restoration of a local temple, sermons without end directed against the abuse of written paper, and now and then against female infanticide, or Cumming-like warnings of an approaching millennium, at which the wicked will receive the reward of their crimes according to the horrible arrangements of the Buddhist-Taoist purgatory. Occasionally an objectionable person will be advised through an anonymous placard to desist from a course which is pointed out as offensive, and similarly, but more rarely, the action of an official will be sometimes severely criticised or condemned. Official proclamations on public business can hardly be classed as wall literature, except perhaps when, as is not uncommon, they are written in doggerel verse, with a view to appealing more directly to the illiterate reader. The following proclamation establishing a registry office for boats at Tientsin will give an idea of these queer documents, the only parallel to which in the West might be found in the famous lines issued by the Board of Trade for the use of sea-captains: —

“Green to green, and red to red,Perfect safety, go ahead,” &c.

The object of this registry office was ostensibly to save the poor boatman from being unfairly dealt with when impressed at nominal wages for Government service, but really to enable the officials to know exactly where to lay their hands on boats when required: —

“A busy town is Tientsin,A land and water thoroughfare;Traders, as thick as clouds, flock in;Masts rise in forests everywhere.“The official’s chair, the runner’s cap,Flit past like falling rain or snow.And, musing on the boatman’s hap,His doubtful shares of weal and woe,“I note the vagabonds who liveOn squeezes from his hard-earned due;And, boatmen, for your sakes I giveA public register to you.“Go straightway there, your names inscribeAnd on the books a record raise;None then dare claim the wicked bribe,Or waste your time in long delays.“The services your country claimsShall be performed in turn by allThe muster of the boatmen’s namesBe published on the Yamên wall.“Once your official business done,Work for yourselves as best you can;Let out your boats to any one;I’ll give a pass to every man.“And lest your lot be hard to bearOfficial pay shall ample be;Let all who notice aught unfairReport the case at once to me.“The culprit shall be well deterredIn future, if his guilt is clear;For times are hard, as I have heard,And food and clothing getting dear.“Thus, in compassion for your woe,The scales of Justice in my hand,I save you from the Yamên foe,The barrack-soldiers’ threat’ning band.“No longer will they dare to playTheir shameful tricks, of late revealed;The office only sends awayBoats – and on orders duly sealed.“One rule will thus be made for all,And things may not go much amiss;Ye boatmen, ’tis on you I callTo show your gratitude for this.“But lest there be who ignorance plead,I issue this in hope to aweSuch fools as think they will succeedBy trying to evade the law.“For if I catch them, no light fateAwaits them that unlucky day;So from this proclamation’s dateLet all in fear and dread obey.”

It is scarcely necessary to add that wall literature has often been directed against foreigners, and especially against missionaries. The penalties, however, for posting anonymous placards are very severe, and of late years the same end has been more effectually attained by the circulation of abusive fly-sheets, often pictorial and always disgusting.

Journalism has proved to be a terrible thorn in the official side. It was first introduced into China under the ægis of an Englishman who was the nominal editor of the Shên Pao or Shanghai News, still a very influential newspaper. For a long time the authorities fought to get rid of this objectionable daily, which now and again told some awkward truths, and contained many ably written articles by first-class native scholars. Eventually an official organ was started in opposition, and other papers have since appeared. An illustrated Chinese weekly made a good beginning in Shanghai, but unfortunately it soon drifted into superstition, intolerance, and vulgarity.

TRANSLATIONS

Attempts have been made to provide the Chinese with translations of noted European works, and among those which have been produced may be mentioned “The Pilgrim’s Progress,” with illustrations, the various characters being in Chinese dress; Mr. Herbert Spencer’s “Education,” the very first sentence in which is painfully misrendered; the “Adventures of Baron Munchausen,” and others. In every case save one these efforts have been rejected by the Chinese on the ground of inferior style. The exception was a translation of Æsop’s Fables, published in 1840 by Robert Thom as rendered into Chinese by an eminent native scholar. This work attracted much attention among the people generally; so much so, that the officials took alarm and made strenuous efforts to suppress it. Recent years have witnessed the publication in Chinese of “Vathek,” in reference to which a literate of standing offered the following criticism: – “The style in which this work is written is not so bad, but the subject-matter is of no account.” The fact is, that to satisfy the taste of the educated Chinese reader the very first requisite is style. As has been seen in the case of the Liao Chai, the Chinese will read almost anything, provided it is set in a faultless frame. They will not look at anything emanating from foreign sources in which this greatest desideratum has been neglected.

The present age has seen the birth of no great original writer in any department of literature, nor the production of any great original work worthy to be smeared with cedar-oil for the delectation of posterity. It is customary after the death, sometimes during the life, of any leading statesman to publish a collection of his memorials to the throne, with possibly a few essays and some poems. Such have a brief succès d’estime, and are then used by binders for thickening the folded leaves of some masterpiece of antiquity. Successful candidates for the final degree usually print their winning essays, and sometimes their poems, chiefly for distribution among friends. Several diaries of Ministers to foreign countries and similar books have appeared in recent years, recording the astonishment of the writers at the extraordinary social customs which prevail among the barbarians. But nowadays a Chinaman who wishes to read a book does not sit down and write one. He is too much oppressed by the vast dimensions of his existing literature, and by the hopelessness of rivalling, and still more by the hopelessness of surpassing, those immortals who have gone before.

WIT AND HUMOUR

It would be obviously unfair to describe the Chinese people as wanting in humour simply because they are tickled by jests which leave us comparatively unmoved. Few of our own most amusing stories will stand conversion into Chinese terms. The following are specimens of classical humour, being such as might be introduced into any serious biographical notice of the individuals concerned.

Ch’un-yü K’un (4th cent. B.C.) was the wit already mentioned, who tried to entangle Mencius in his talk. On one occasion, when the Ch’u State was about to attack the Ch’i State, he was ordered by the Prince of Ch’i, who was his father-in-law, to proceed to the Chao State and ask that an army might be sent to their assistance; to which end the Prince supplied him with 100 lbs. of silver and ten chariots as offerings to the ruler of Chao. At this Ch’un-yü laughed so immoderately that he snapped the lash of his cap; and when the Prince asked him what was the joke, he said, “As I was coming along this morning, I saw a husbandman sacrificing a pig’s foot and a single cup of wine; after which he prayed, saying, ‘O God, make my upper terraces fill baskets and my lower terraces fill carts; make my fields bloom with crops and my barns burst with grain!’ And I could not help laughing at a man who offered so little and wanted so much.” The Prince took the hint, and obtained the assistance he required.

T’ao Ku (A.D. 902-970) was an eminent official whose name is popularly known in connection with the following repartee. Having ordered a newly-purchased waiting-maid to get some snow and make tea in honour of the Feast of Lanterns, he asked her, somewhat pompously, “Was that the custom in your former home?” “Oh, no,” the girl replied; “they were a rough lot. They just put up a gold-splashed awning, and had a little music and some old wine.”

Li Chia-ming (10th cent. A.D.) was a wit at the Court of the last ruler of the T’ang dynasty. On one occasion the latter drew attention to some gathering clouds which appeared about to bring rain. “They may come,” said Li Chia-ming, “but they will not venture to enter the city.” “Why not?” asked the Prince. “Because,” replied the wit, “the octroi is so high.” Orders were thereupon issued that the duties should be reduced by one-half. On another occasion the Prince was fishing with some of his courtiers, all of whom managed to catch something, whereas he himself, to his great chagrin, had not a single bite. Thereupon Li Chia-ming took a pen and wrote the following lines: —

“’Tis rapture in the warm spring days to drop the tempting flyIn the green pool where deep and still the darkling waters lie;And if the fishes dare not touch the bait your Highness flings,They know that only dragons are a fitting sport for kings.”

Liu Chi (11th cent. A.D.) was a youth who had gained some notoriety by his fondness for strange phraseology, which was much reprobated by the great Ou-yang Hsiu. When the latter was Grand Examiner, one of the candidates sent in a doggerel triplet as follows: —