CHINA AND THE MANCHUS

FROM THE EARLIEST TIMES TO THE BEGINNING OF THE MING DYNASTY A.D 1368

BY

HERBERT H. GOWEN

“IN THE BEGINNING”

The subject of Chinese origins is, to say the least, a thorny one, and the discussion of it in any detail would take us out of the uncertain mists of legend into the yet more uncertain mists of theory and conjecture. Some maintain that the Chinese entered their present abode from the north-west; others that, so far as anything shows to the contrary, they have occupied their present abodes from time immemorial. The latest authority on the subject writes: “Whether the Chinese were seated in their later homes from time immemorial, as their own historians assume, or whether they arrived there from abroad, as some foreign scholars have pretended, cannot be proved to the satisfaction of historical critics. Indeed, anthropological arguments seem to contradict the idea of any connection with Babylonians, Egyptians, Assyrians or Indians.” Nevertheless, it is not unreasonable to suppose that in the great shifting of peoples caused by the influx of Semitic tribes into the Euphrates Valley about B. C. 4000, the Turanian civilization, known as Sumerian, may have so far pushed eastwards as to have influenced the peopling of the present north-west provinces of China. It is quite possible to conceive of the arrival there of whole populations who had acquired the old civilization, or of the transmission of the elements of Sumerian culture through individual fugitives. At any rate, the distinguishing traits of the Chinese, their industry, their agricultural skill, their arts, methods of divination, primitive ideographs, and general peace-loving disposition are not unlike traits which reveal themselves among the pre-Semitic dwellers in the Euphrates Valley. A careful analysis of the oldest ideograms reveals that the matriarchate prevailed, that divination by means of the tortoise shell was in common use, that the male child was valued for his capacity for field work, that the north was regarded as the land upon which they had turned their backs, the south the jungle inhabited by wild beasts, while the east appeared to them as a forest through which the rising sun cast its rays. Many signs suggest a pastoral stage. The radical for “sheep” (yong) appears in the word “beautiful” which is literally “big sheep”; “righteousness” is “sheep” and the first personal pronoun; “to judge rightly” is literally “to talk sheep.” The symbol for “house,” preserved in so many of the modern characters, perpetuates the sloping roof of the old Central Asian tent with the turned up edges still to be seen in pagodas and temples. The pastoral stage must have passed quickly, so far as the Chinese proper are concerned, for the occupation is one for which the Chinese of many generations have had a distinct aversion.

In any attempt that we make to reproduce in imagination the China of old time it must be remembered that it included but a small portion of the present eighteen provinces. The earliest China probably extended little beyond the present provinces of Shan-si, Shen-si and Kan-suh. It was not until the time of the Tsin Dynasty (B. C. 250) 4hat the whole of the present China came under one government.

The legendary history of China extends over many millions of years. In the chronicles of the Han Dynasty it is said that “from the creation to the capture of the lin in the days of Confucius (B. C. 481) a period elapsed of 2,267,000 and odd years.” Of course, as Mayers remarks, “no actual weight is attached even by Chinese writers to the statements handed down by the fabulists of antiquity regarding prehistoric epochs and dynastic lines.” From the time of the first man, Pan-ku, who corresponds more or less with the Indian Manu and the Persian Yima, some have reckoned as many as ninety-six millions of years. Pan ku separated heaven and earth, as was done in the Egyptian story of Nut and Keb. A philosopher of the 11th Century describes him thus: “Pan ku came into being in the great Waste; his beginning is unknown. He understood the ways of Heaven and Earth and comprehended the permutations of the two principles of Nature. He became the Chief and Prince of the Three Powers. Hereupon development began from Chaos.” Dr. Williams says: “They (the Chinese artists) picture him holding a chisel and mallet in his hands, splitting and fashioning vast masses of granite floating confusedly in space. Behind the openings his powerful hand has made are seen the sun, moon and stars, monuments of his stupendous labors; at his right hand, inseparable companions of his toils, but whose generation is left in obscurity, stand the dragon, the phoenix and the tortoise, and sometimes the unicorn, divine types and progenitors with himself of the animal creation. His efforts were continued eighteen thousand years, and by small degrees he and his work increased; the heavens rose, the earth spread out and thickened, and Pwan ku grew in stature, six feet away every day, till, his labors done, he died for the benefit of his handiwork. His head became mountains, his breath wind and clouds, and his voice thunder; his limbs were changed into four poles, his veins into rivers, his sinews into the undulations of the earth’s surface, and his flesh into fields; his beard, like Berenice’s hair, was turned into stars, his skin and hair into herbs and trees, and his teeth, bones and marrow into metals, rocks and precious stones; his dropping sweat increased to rain, and, lastly, the insects which stuck to his body were transformed into people.”

The Three August Periods. After Pan ku follow three periods which may be described as follows:

1. The Reign of Heaven, during which the ‘heavens were actually formed.

2. The Reign of Earth, during which the earth received its shape.

3. The Reign of Man, during which men and other terrestrial beings took their proper place in the universe.

In the first of these periods twelve brothers reigned as the Tien Wang or Heaven Kings, each for a period of 18,000 years, a monstrous brood with the body of serpents.

In the second period reigned the eleven brothers, known as the Ti Wang, or Earth Kings, who discovered the division of day and night, and the division of the year into months of thirty days. These too were a monstrous progeny made up of the membra disjecta of dragons, serpents, horses and human beings.

In the third period reigned the nine Jin Wang, or Man Kings, with faces of men and bodies of dragons or serpents. They divided the world into nine empires, one for each of the monstrous brothers.

The Ten Periods of Ascent. Ten periods follow, or nine, if we regard the whole of the preceding epoch as making up the first, during which human civilization is seen on the ascent. We see men gradually ceasing to live in caves of the rocks, or nests of the trees. We see them learning to clothe themselves in the skins of beasts. We have culture myths, moreover, like that of the Chinese Prometheus, Sui-jin, who discovered the means of producing fire, by watching a bird pecking at the dry branch of a tree. The invention of cooking followed, possibly in a way not unlike that described by Charles Lamb in his famous essay on roast pig. Then came other arts of life, including that of dancing which, we are told, came into vogue not as an amusement but as an hygienic exercise. It is perhaps permissible to regard this statement as an afterthought on the part of some austere philosopher or moralist. There was learned withal the principle which has had such continuous illustration throughout all Chinese history, namely, “the virtue of handing over the throne to a successor, which stands in relation with the principles of heaven.”

THE FIVE RULERS

The so-called period of the Five Rulers may be regarded as marking the transition from the legendary to the historical period. There are, however, several dissimilar systems of chronology for it. Some Chinese authorities reckon from the age of the Nest Builders, others from various others of those legendary divisions of time which have just been mentioned. The best method of reckoning, in all probability, is to start from the culture hero, Fu-hsi, and to make up the five by the inclusion of Fu-hsi’s two semi-mythical successors, Shen-nung and Hwang-ti, and the two Emperors par excellence of the Shu-King, Yao and Shun.

The greatest of all the traditional benefactors of the legendary era of Chinese history is Fu-hsi, who by many is reckoned as a genuine historical character. Definite statements are made about him, although definiteness of statement is by no means invariably a proof of historicity. He is said to have been born, miraculously, near Singan-fu, the ancient capital of China, and in the same neighborhood, in the province of Shensi, his grave is still pointed out and reverenced. His date is also given definitely enough as B. C. 2852. Yet the Chinese accounts describe him as possessing a body which terminated in the scaly folds of a serpent, and as having six dragons (the predecessors of the Six Governing Boards) as his counsellors. He is represented in art with the horny protuberances which in the case of Oriental law-givers generally (even in the case of Moses, according to Michelangelo) are regarded as the symbols of intellectual power. Among the many useful inventions ascribed to Fu-hsi by a grateful posterity, are the following:

1. Marriage, together with the ceremonies with which marriage was contracted.

2. Musical Instruments, especially the thirty-five stringed lute.

3. The Eight Trigrams, and arrangement of the whole and the broken line in a series of eight permutations, each the symbol of some element in nature, on which was based in later times the whole complex system of Chinese divination as contained in the Yi-King.

4. Writing, the use of ideograms instead of the more primitive system of knot notation, known in ancient Peru as quipu. This invention is, however, ascribed also to Sui-jin and to several others.

5. The use of the Six Domestic Animals, namely, the horse, the dog, the ox, the sheep, the pig and the fowl.

6. The use of the Mulberry Leaf for the feeding of silk worms.

To Fu-hsi are also ascribed the weaving of nets and snares for the catching of fish, the worship of the Supreme Being, whom they called Shong-ti, and whatever of other fruits or indications of civilization there were for which the Chinese desired to claim a very remote past.

Shen-nung. B. C. 2737-2705.

The successor of Fu-hsi, who selected him when dying, was Shen-nung, generally known as the “Divine Husbandman.” He is depicted with the body of a man and the head of an ox, doubtless in allusion to his interest in agriculture. It is related that he was the son of a princess, and was miraculously born near the river Kiang. “He first fashioned timber into ploughs, and taught the people the art of husbandry. He discovered the curative virtues of plants, and instituted the practice of holding markets for the exchange of commodities.” Moreover he contests with Fu-hsi interest in the development of music, as the traditional inventor of the K’in, or five stringed lute.

Hwang-ti. B. C. 2704-2595.

Hwang-ti, the “Yellow Emperor,” succeeded Shen-nung, according to one story, by usurpation. He is said to have introduced the use of wheeled vehicles and to have invented ships, armor and pottery. In his reign a manifestation was vouchsafed of the two fabulous beasts, the Griffin and the Ki Lin, a highly valued indication of Heaven’s pleasure in a wise and benevolent rule. The limits of China are said to have been extended during this reign eastwards to Shan-tung and southward to the Yang-tsze-kiang valley. Hwang-ti died at the age of 111 years. The Chinese historian, Sze Ma Tsien, known as the “Herodotus of China,” commences his history at this point. Some modern writers, without very tangible evidence, have seen an introduction of foreign elements of civilization into China about this time. The mention of the hostile Hun-yu, generally identified with the Hiung-nu, the ancestors of the Huns, suggests danger and pressure from the tribes to the north. Internally, some further advances are described, including the use of milfoil (Achillea millefolium) for purposes of divination.4 The legendary minister, Tsang Kie, who is spoken of as the first state historian, is one of the many to whom has been assigned the invention of writing. From watching the impressions made by the footprints of birds he is said to have developed a system of ideographs which combined the use of the trigrams of Fu-hsi. His fellow minister, Tsu-sung, is reported to have achieved much the same result from studying the constellations in the heavens. An important place also in the traditions of this reign is occupied by the Emperor’s wife, Liu Tsu, better known as “the Lady of Si-ling,” whose skill in the management of silk-worms endeared her to posterity. She was afterwards deified as Yuan-fi and is worshiped on a certain day in the 9th month. In the Wei-ki she is referred to in the following verse:

“Si-ling-shi, the Empress of Hwang-ti, began to rear silkworms:

At this period Hwang ti invented the art of making clothing.”

The immediate successors of Hwang-ti need not be mentioned. Chinese history, but for names, is a blank till we come to the two “Model Emperors” of the Confucian Classics, Yao and Shun. With the description of these reigns, doubtless idealized by the literati, begins the record of the Shu-King or “Book of History.”

Yao. B. C. 2357-2258.

Yao, who is said to have been born in the province of Ho-nan and to have been the son of the Emperor Ti K’u, is described as being “gifted without being proud, and exalted without being insolent. He wore a yellow cap and a plain silk dress. He drove in a red car drawn by a white horse.” Says the Shu-King, “he united and transformed the myriad states; and so the black haired people were transformed. The result was concord.” His desire, during the long reign of ninety-eight (some make it only seventy) years, for the welfare of the people was shown by the placing of a tablet outside the palace on which anyone night write advice with regard to the government. A drum near by enabled the man with a grievance to make known his desires to the king. The most striking proof, however, of Yao’s laudable desire to serve the people is afforded through the account given of the choice of Shun as his successor on the throne. For some years the ravages of a great flood, caused probably, as today, by the overflowing of the Hwang-ho, had defied the utmost efforts of the Minister of Works, whose name was Kun. At length the monarch, grieved by the growing desolation of the realm, requested the people to name someone who would make himself master of the situation. They recommended “an unmarried man of the common people named Shun.” Shun was found to be the son of a blind man; “his father was unprincipled, his mother insincere, and his younger brother arrogant.” Yet, notwithstanding all these handicaps, he had been able to live with them in peace and had even brought about some improvement. Yao concluded to try him and the experiment was in every way successful. Everything that Shun attempted prospered. “At the end of the year the place where he lived became a village, in two years it became a town, and in three years a capital.” Shun’s association in the Empire was ratified; he was received by marriage into the royal family, and named by Yao as his heir. But though men looked forward with confident expectation to the reign of Shun, there was universal sorrow when the good King Yao was gathered to his fathers. “For three years,” we are told, “no music was played anywhere.”

Shun. B. C. 2258-2206.

Shun who, as we have seen, was chosen by Yao for his good qualities, became sovereign in B. C. 2258 instead of Yao’s worthless son, Tan-chu. He speedily justified the old Emperor’s choice and the reputation he had already gained during the years of regency. His career, which is described in that section of the “Shu-King” known as the “Canon of Shun,” largely follows the outlines of the preceding reign. To the details already given of his earlier life we may add that he was born in Ho-nan and that his own mother had died whilst he was still young. His father remarried and the boy had with his stepmother a “sad, sour time.” Attempts were even made on his life, but he behaved with such exemplary patience that he attracted, as we have seen, the attention of Yao. For his conduct as a young man Shun has been enrolled among the twenty-four illustrious examples of filial piety. He labored incessantly to support those who abused him, fishing, making pottery and working in the fields. When he was plowing, the birds and beasts are said to have come of their own accord to weed his fields and help to draw the plow. On ascending the throne his virtues were equally evident, and loyal subjects helped to bear the burdens of the state. He regulated the Calendar, standardized weights and measures, and made mitigations of the punishments hitherto in vogue, altering the size of the whip which was used in the courts and the thickness of the birch rod which was employed for the chastisement of school boys. His choice of Yu to be his successor followed the precedent of Yao’s selection of himself. The story of this early period may seem thus far to lack excitement, yet surely it is better to read these records of patriarchal regard for the welfare of a nation, and of the gradually accumulated fruits of culture, than the stories of rapine and bloodshed which fill so many pages of the early history of Greece and Rome. Shun put his own ideal of rulership in a poem which is included in the “Shu-King.” It runs as follows:

“When the members work joyfully

The head rises grandly;

And the duties of all the offices are fully discharged ;

When the head is intelligent

The members are good,

And all affairs will be happily performed.”

THE HIA DYNASTY

B. C. 2205-1766.

Yu.

The principality of Hia had been bestowed upon Yu before the death of Shun, and the new King, immediately upon ascending the throne, made it the name of the new dynasty. Like his two predecessors, Yu was a “Model Emperor.” “His voice was the standard of sounds, his body the standard of measures of length.” He is said to have been a native of the province of Sze-ch’uen. His exploits, which are chronicled in that section of the “Shu-King” known as the “Tribute of Yu,” redounded to the advantage of the whole country. He placed five sorts of instruments at his palace gates so that the people who sought his presence might acquaint him with the nature of their business. He divided the country into nine provinces and so arranged the Imperial domain that it formed the central square of a series of concentric territories. These were named respectively: 1, the royal domain; 2, 33 the domain of the nobles; 3, the domain of peace; 4, the domain of restraint (for barbarians and exiles); 5, the wild domain. He was a great engineer and labored for nine years at the work of leading the waters of the Hwang-ho back to their proper channel. During this time he was so absorbed that he took little note of food and clothing and even thrice passed the door of his own house without looking in, although he heard from within the wailing of his infant son. He “made cuttings through the nine mountains, formed the nine lakes, regulated the course of the nine rivers, fixed the limits of the nine provinces.” “Among the most marvelous of the achievements ascribed to the handiwork of Yu,” says Mayers, “is the opening of a passage for the western waters through the present defile of Wu Shan.” His ideal is expressed in the saying which has been attributed to him, “I just think of working incessantly every day.” Evidently his industry was appreciated, for the Chinese saying runs, “How grand was the achievement of Yu! How far reaching his glorious energy! But for Yu we should all have been fishes.” Under this energetic and earnest monarch China prospered greatly and the dominion was extended westward to the “moving sand” (the desert of Gobi), whilst the Miao tribes of aborigines were subdued towards the south. In connection with the division of the land into the nine provinces the story may be mentioned that Yu made nine brazen vases or tripods upon the preservation of which depended the preservation of the dynasty. Another interesting legend associates Yu with the first discovery of wine. The first manufacture was due to a man named I Ti who took some to the daughter of the Emperor. She in turn brought it to Yu who tasted it and poured the rest upon the ground. He then ordered the discoverer to be banished from the country and forbade any further knowledge of the dangerous art.

The Successors of Yu.

Eighteen monarchs reigned during the period assigned to this dynasty. The era was, however, not without its vicissitudes. T’ai K’ang, who as the assistant of Yu, is said to have paced the whole land from east to west, offended the people by his gay mode of living and ruined their harvests by his hunting expeditions. He was dethroned in B. C. 2160. His successor, Chung K’ang, is best known through an eclipse which was chronicled in his reign and which the court astronomers had failed to predict. Modern astronomers have spent much labor, with no very satisfactory results, in endeavoring to fix the date of this event. An interregnum is reckoned from B. C. 2218 to 2079 and the dynasty gradually declined until the end came under the infamous Kie. This tyrant, with the aid of his no less infamous consort, Mei-hi, a slave who had been presented to him in B. C. 1786 by one of the conquered chiefs as a propitiatory offering, filled full the cup of abominations. Among other choice amusements of this Chinese Nero was the creation of a vast lake of wine in which he would compel his subjects, three thousand at a time, to plunge at the sound of a drum, whilst he and his queen and courtiers laughed with delight at their brutal intoxication. The downfall and death of the last of the Hia Kings were brought about through a revolution headed by Cheng T’ang, the founder of the dynasty of Shang. The tyrant, Kie Kwei, was captured and sent into banishment.

THE SHANG DYNASTY

B. C. 1766-1122.

Ch’eng T’ang.

The founder of the dynasty of Shang, which is also called the Yin dynasty, is another favorite of the Confucian historians. He had, we are told, graven upon his bath the words, thrice repeated, “Renew thyself every day.” He was careful in all his hunting expeditions to diminish in all possible ways the sufferings of the victims such as were necessitated by the royal sport. His especial title to fame is, however, in his offer to yield himself as a sacrifice in order to bring to an end a severe seven years’ famine which had reduced the country to great extremities of distress. Putting on the symbols of mourning, he mounted his car and drove to a certain designated spot at the foot of a mountain. Here he dismounted, prostrated himself to the earth and made confession of his own sins and of those of the people. Hardly had he finished his prayer when there came an abundant rain and the land speedily recovered its former fertility. The credit for T’ang’s successful reign must be shared with the famous minister, I Yin, who was, it is said, “almost what Shun had been to Yao, and Yao to Shun.” A legend declares that he was found as an infant in a hollow mulberry tree, a story probably due to the name of his birthplace. His enemies said that he owed his elevation to his skill in cooking, through which he maintained his influence over his royal master. But, cook or no cook, he remained a trusted councilor until his death in B. C. 1713.

As in the case of the Hia dynasty, vicious kings soon dimmed the glory of the dynasty which had been won by T’ang, the Completer, and ruined the results painfully achieved. Wu T’ing tried his best to stay the plague of wickedness by going back to the people for his chief official, choosing as minister a poor artisan whom, under divine inspiration, he had beheld in a dream. Lin-sin (B. C. 1225-1219) put all responsibility on his ministers and refused frankly to be bothered with any of the duties or cares of government. Wu-yih (B. C. 1198-1194) openly defied the gods and blasphemed the spirit of Heaven. “He played chess with it and told a man to make its moves. When the spirit of Heaven lost, he derided and insulted it; and making for it a leathern bag, he filled it with blood, hung it up in the air, and shot arrows at it.” Poetic justice, in this case, came with no halting foot, and the blasphemous libertine was struck by lightning and died.

Chou-sin. B. C. 1154-1123.

The climax of evil came with the reign of Chou-sin, or Shu, whose career of infamy runs in many respects parallel with that of Kie Kwei. The list of his enormities is summed up in the “Great Declaration” of the Shu-King. The good advice of the faithful minister and relative, Pi-kan, he requited with the brutal order addressed to his minions to take out the heart of the courageous councilor. “I have heard,” said he, “that a man’s heart has seven openings; I would fain make the experiment upon Pi-kan.” The palace and the pleasure grounds, known as Luh T’ai or Deer Tower, were the unhallowed scenes of nameless orgies. To these he was stimulated and encouraged by his mistress, T’a-ki, one of the most sinister names in the history of China. This lady, who was a daughter of the chief of Su and a prize of war, distinguished herself by the invention of sundry ingenious instruments of torture. Among these were the “Heater” and the “Copper Pillar.” The latter was a metal column, well greased, which was laid over a pit of burning charcoal. The unhappy victims of the royal caprice or mirth were pressingly invited to walk across this fatal bridge, with a result which was as pleasurable to the royal libertines as it was disastrous to themselves.

The Revolt of Wen Wang.

 At length the cruelties of Chou-sin exhausted the patience of the princes and the people. A revolt broke out headed by Chang, Duke of Chou, known also as Si Peh, “the Chief of the West,” and better still by the name given to him on canonization, Wen Wang. The tyrant in desperate straits showed some last flicker of courage. To the assembled troops he gave the following singular advice: “In today’s business do not take more than six or seven steps, then stop and dress your ranks. Heroes, exert yourselves! Do not exceed four, five, six or seven strokes, then stop and dress your ranks. Exert yourselves, heroes! Put on a terrible look! Be like tigers, bears, wolves, and dragons in the neighborhood of Sheng.” When this remarkable army was put to flight in the battle of “the ford of Meng,” Chou-sin decked himself in all his jewels, mounted the marble tower he had built for his mistress in the notorious pleasure gardens of Luh T’ai and there, like another Zimri or Sardanapalus, set fire to the palace and cast himself alive into the flames. In this way Chou-sin put an end at once to his own not very valuable existence and to the dynasty which had begun so gloriously. The favorite, T’a-ki, who had had so large a share in precipitating the disaster, was captured and beheaded. It is said that so great was the influence of the personal charm of this Chinese Circe to the very last that no one could be found to deal the fatal stroke, until the aged councilor of Wu Wang, whose name was T’ai Kung, stepped forward and, covering up his face, made himself the avenger of a nation’s wrongs. The accumulated treasures of the “Deer Tower” gardens were distributed by the conqueror to the people from whose spoliation they had been acquired.

Ki-tsze. Ki-tsze, one of the vainly protesting ministers of the defeated Chou-sin, deserves to be mentioned, if not as the author of one of the most important sections of the “Shu-King,” as the real founder of the civilization of Korea. He was, like Pi-kan, allied to the Emperor by blood, but, with his two fellow ministers, Pi-kan and Wei-tsze, was imprisoned by his fatuous kinsman when he refused to remain silent with regard to the fatal folly which was threatening the fall of the dynasty. The two fellow-prisoners perished, but Ki-tsze was released from prison on the accession of the first Chou sovereign. He was promised rank and office under the new dynasty, but his sturdy loyalty to his first allegiance prevailed and he preferred expatriation. Korea was the land to which he turned. The legendary history of this country goes back as far as B. C. 2333, to the time when the Son of the Creator of Heaven came down to a mountain in the province of Phyong An. Here he assumed the name of Tan Gun and reigned on earth a thousand years. But it is Ki-tsze’s migration to Korea and his conquest of the land, to which he gave the name of Cho-sen, “Land of the Morning Calm,” which marks the real beginning of Korean history. It is believed that he came by sea, landed somewhere south of the Han river, and brought with him all the arts of civilization. He died B. C. 1083 and the dynasty he founded had the good fortune to survive until B. C. 193.

THE CHOU DYNASTY

B. C. 1122-249.

I.

FROM WU-WANG TO THE FIVE LEADERS

The Chou Dynasty.

The dynasty of Chou is the longest lived of all the imperial lines in the history of China and includes the reigns of thirty-five sovereigns, aggregating a total of nearly nine centuries. The period as a whole reveals a gradual weakening of the central authority by reason of the increase of power in the vassal and confederate states. The number of these at one time was as many as a hundred and twenty-five and even in the time of Confucius there were fifty-two. Wars continued for the greater portion of the time, against the Huns on the northern frontier and against the aboriginal tribes south of the Yang-tsze-kiang. An important feature of the epoch is in the gradual enforcement of the (so-called) Confucian system under a series of able teachers, philosophers and administrators. These include such men as the sage, Confucius, himself, and his great disciple and interpreter, Mencius. Towards the end of the Chou dynasty there are some indications of reaction against this system through the pressure of forces such as were doubtless reinforced by the infusion of a strong Tatar element from the north. These forces indeed triumphed for a time in the overthrow of the Chous and the establishment of the Tsin dynasty, but ultimately the foreign elements were themselves assimilated to the Confucian ideal.

Wen Wang. B. C. 1231-1135.

 The real founder of this dynasty was the Ch’ang, Duke of Chou, of whom we have already spoken as heading the revolt against Chou-sin. He had been hereditary prince of the principality of Ch’i and was thrown into prison by the tyrant as suspect and dangerous. In prison he utilized two years and attained fame as the author of a work on the Sixty-four Hexagrams which had been evolved from the Eight Trigrams of Fu-hsi. This treatise, together with the additions made through the filial affection of his son, the great duke of Chou, constitutes that most bewildering of all the Confucian classics known as the Yi-King, or Book of Changes. Wen Wang’s literary labors were, however, no barrier to his fitness for military achievement. Through the intercession of the people who loved him and because of the promise to get for the Emperor a beautiful concubine and some splendid horses from the west, he was after two years released from prison and sent west to fight the frontier tribes. But he soon returned and headed the revolt against Chou-sin with the result that has already been recorded. He “found the people hanging head downwards and set them on their feet” and was known to all future times as Wen Wang, “the Martial.”

Wu Wang. Wu Wang, or Fa, his son, became the first reigning sovereign of the Chou line, which, as we have seen, received its name from the Duchy of Chou on the western frontier. He seems to have been a genuinely great monarch, commencing his rule with generous actions and a conciliatory attitude towards the conquered. He opened the prisons which were doubtless filled with the victims of Chou-sin’s tyranny and also the granaries whose contents at this juncture were badly needed. In the proclamation which he made exposing the misdeeds of the late dynasty, the following is spoken of as one of the crimes of Chou-sin: “He has put men into office on the hereditary principle,”—a striking testimony to the essentially democratic character of the early Chinese government. Wu Wang established his capital at Singan-fu, a city which had the honor of being the center of government at several subsequent epochs, and was the natural refuge for the Emperor and Empress Dowager during the months following the Boxer revolt of 1900. Wu Wang also reformed the calendar, created schools of various grades, and made other memorable improvements in methods Qf government and administration.

Chou Kung.

The great glory of the reign of Wu Wang was the character and statesmanship of the King's brother, Tan, better known as Chou Kung, “the Duke of Chou.” We may call him the Duke of Chou par excellence, for he is included by Mencius in the number of the “Three Great Sages” of China, of whom the other two are Yu, the patriarch king of the Hia dynasty, and, of course, Confucius. The philosopher adds the reason for his estimate as follows: “In former times Yu repressed the vast waters of the inundation and the empire was reduced to order. Chou Kung’s achievements extended even to the barbarous tribes of the west and north; he drove away all ferocious animals; and the people enjoyed repose.” He did even more than his father, Wen Wang, for the perfecting of the Book of Changes, the “Yi-King,” interpreting the significance of each line of the hexagram, as his father had interpreted the general meaning of the whole. As he showed by this voluntary labor his filial love, so he showed his fraternal love by constituting himself the pillar of Wu Wang’s throne. He might almost be regarded as the most potent force in the permanent organization of the Chinese administration system. His zeal was so great that he received interviewers even whilst he was having his bath, rushing out holding his wet hair in his hand rather than keep them waiting. His seriousness is illustrated by his rebuke of the Emperor for bestowing a certain symbol of power upon another jokingly. “I was only joking,” said the prince. “Nay,” replied Chou Kung, “a prince never jokes. His words are written down as history, take shape as ceremonial rites, or are set to music and sung.” His delicacy of feeling was shown by his prayer for the recovery of Wu Wang when the monarch was dangerously ill. Chou Kung’s appeal to the ancestors and his divination with the tortoises were regarded as the real cause of the King’s recovery. The same feeling was shown later on the death of Wu Wang and the accession of the child-king, Cheng Wang. Chou Kung feared it might be supposed that he was himself aiming at the supreme power, so, although he was appointed regent, he went voluntarily into exile to escape suspicion of self-seeking. Fortunately for the realm, he was recalled when certain impending difficulties and dangers made his presence once again necessary. To the above catalogue of the great Duke’s achievements we may add that he was often described as the inventor of the Mariner’s Compass on the strength of the mention of a wonderful “south-pointing chariot” which he devised to assist the return of the envoys from Tonkin to their own home. The reference, however, is of a very doubtful meaning.

The Chou li.

Of more authenticity and even value, as an achievement, may be credited to Chou Kung the composition of the “Chou li,” or “Ceremonial of Chou,” a book describing in detail the organization of the Government at this epoch. Of this work Professor Hirth has written: “As an educator of the nation the ‘Chou li’ has probably not its like among the literatures of the world, not excepting even the Bible.” Whether in its present form it can be regarded as the work of Chou Kung is at least doubtful, but it may certainly be considered as reflecting the spirit of his administration.

It contains, for the first time, the categorical division of the people into nine classes, in the following order: landlords, gardeners, woodmen, livestock-keepers, artisans, merchants, housewives, servants, and those without fixed professions.

The chief honor is thereby given to those who cultivate the soil and the status of the merchant is low, because he is a middleman, not a producer. The “Chou li” also describes in detail the duties of the Six Boards which are as follows:

1. The Mandarin of Heaven, with general supervision over all government, the regulation of the dress, food and all the activities of the Emperor.

2. The Mandarin of Earth, responsible for the welfare of the people. Among the numerous responsibilities of this Board was a fairly comprehensive one with regard to marriages. It was supposed to see to it that every girl was married by the time she was twenty and every man by the time he was thirty.

3. The Mandarin of Spring, in charge of all religious rites, and ceremonies associated with the observance of the seasons, divinations and astrological investigations.

4. The Mandarin of Summer, the Board of War, providing detailed instructions for the raising and equipment of troops.

5. The Mandarin of Autumn, the Board of Justice, regulating all punishments.

6. The Mandarin of Winter, the Board of Public Works.

These six Boards remained substantially in this order of importance until the creation of the Wai-wu-pu, or Board of Foreign Affairs in 1900. The Wai-wu-pu now takes precedence of all but the first.

Cheng Wang and His Successors.

Chou Kung died in the year B. C. 1105 and was buried, as he deserved, with royal honors and amid the lamentation of the whole nation. The kings who succeeded Wu Wang must be passed over with but slight notice. Perhaps we lose little by the omissions. Cheng Wang selected a new capital, Loh Yang, the present city of Ho-nan-fu, a city which, like Singan-fu, had its vicissitudes. Chao-Wang, B. C. 1052-1002, helps to illustrate the growing importance of popular feeling. He drew down on himself much ill will because of the heedlessness with which, when engaged in war or hunting, he trampled down the crops of his subjects. For this they revenged themselves in the following summary manner: On the king requiring to cross a certain river, the people provided him with a boat so constructed as to come apart in the middle of the stream. The king managed to swim ashore, but he died not very long after, either as a result of the wetting or through another similar “accident.”.

Muh Wang, who succeeded Chao-Wang and reigned from B. C. 1001 to 947, deserves mention on account of his travels. With his charioteer Tsao-Fu and his eight marvelous horses he went “wherever wheelruts ran and the hoofs of horses had trodden.” The book giving an account of these adventures only dates, however, from the second or third century B. C., so that there is considerable room for doubt. One interesting visit was to the Si-Wang-Mu or “Royal Lady of the West.” The identity of this princess is one of the mysteries of history and Taoist writers have woven around the story a mass of marvelous fairy lore, describing the Queen as inhabiting a magnificent mountain palace, hard by which was the Lake of Gems and the Peach Tree of Immortality from whose branches flew azure-winged birds on errands of love. Here she lived surrounded by troops of genii and by and by a consort was found for her in Tung Wang Kung, the Eastern King Lord. Others have used their imaginations in a different direction by recognizing in the Si Wang Mu the Queen of Sheba! While still others have adopted the prosaic explanation that we have here simply the name of a tribe. Muh-Wang visited also “the land of moving sands,” and “the land of heaped-up feathers,” and came to the land “where the green birds cast their feathers.” The geography of all this is as much a mystery as the personality of the Royal Lady of the West, but the pride of Persia has claimed the honor of a visit in these peregrinations. It is quite possible that by means of some such expeditions as these referred to there was introduced into China the particular philosophic and religious element which appears a little later in the teaching of Lao-tsze.

Inferior names succeed to that of Muh-Wang and the growing inability of the Emperors to manage their vast, feudal domains becomes increasingly evident. Some of the statesmen, however, seem to have been men of more dignity and resource than their masters.

Li Wang. B. C. 878-842.

As an example we may take the story of the Duke of Shau who was minister under Li Wang. Li Wang disliked and resented the open criticism of his policy by the people. As a deterrent he ordered all the suspected slanderers to be seized and executed. This done, criticism was naturally silent and the exultant Emperor exclaimed to his minister, “Where are all your gossipers now?” The answer was as follows: “All you have brought about is a screen which prevents you from learning the real sentiments of the people; but you should know that it is more dangerous to shut the people’s mouths than to stop the waters of a river. To stop the progress of a river means to force it to expand and thus do more harm than if it had been allowed to take its natural course. Such is the case with your people. If you want to prevent the damage threatening from the inundation of a river you have to lead it into a proper bed which will hold all its waters; if you want to make an impression on the people, let them have perfect liberty of speech.”

Suan Wang. B. C. 827-782.

 Suan Wang furnishes another illustration of the danger of disregarding the popular will and the maintenance of governmental traditions. “There was a time-honored custom,” says Hirth, “under the Chou dynasty that the Emperor had to perform the ceremony of working in person in the ‘Fields of a Thousand Acres’ set aside for the purpose, a ceremony similar to that of the handling of the plow by the Emperor at the present day. Suan Wang declined to comply with the practice in spite of the remonstrances of his dukes, with the result that in B. C. 789 his army was defeated in a battle against certain Tangutan tribes. The name of the battle field, according to Sze Ma Tsien, was Ts’ien mou, which means ‘a thousand acres,’ but it would appear that the name wras given to the locality afterwards in commemoration of the Emperor’s disinclination to listen to his minister’s remonstrations.” Whether due or not to the Emperor’s crimes, a great drought afflicted the land at this time, and the “Book of Odes” gives us the following fine account of Suan Wang’s expostulation with Heaven.

“Brightly resplendent in the sky revolved

The milky way. The monarch cried, Alas!

What crime is ours, that Heaven thus sends on us

Death and Disorder, that with blow on blow 

Famine attacks us? Surely I have grudged 

To God no victims; all our store is spent

On tokens. Why is it I am not heard?

Rages the drought. The hills are parched, and dry

The streams. The demon of the drought

Destroys like one who scatters fiery flames.

Terrified by the burning heat my heart,

My mourning heart, seems all consumed with fire.

The many dukes and ministers of the past

Pay me no heed. O God, from thy great heaven

Send me permission to withdraw myself

Into seclusion. Fearful is the drought.

I hesitate, I dread to go away.

Why has this drought been sent upon my land?

No cause for it know I. Full early rose

My prayers for a good year; not late was I 

In off”ring sacrifice unto the Lords

Of the Four Quarters and the land.

Afar In the high Heaven God listens not. And yet 

Surely a reverent man as I have been

To all intelligent spirits should not be

The victim of their overwhelming wrath.”

What with physical calamities within and the increasing troublesomeness of the Huns without, the military and civil capacity of the rulers of China at this time was certainly put severely to the test.

Yu Wang. B. C. 781-771.

Suan Wang was succeeded by Yu Wang who reigned just ten years. There is a presentiment of coming disaster in the story of this effeminate ruler and his favorite, Pao Sze. Of mysterious birth, Pao was ordered slain when an infant, but, wrapped in a piece of matting, she was rescued from the river, put out to nurse, and later presented to the king because of her great beauty. She soon displaced the legitimate wife of Yu Wang and caused the banishment of the heir-apparent. And now no folly was too great for Yu Wang to perpetrate in order to amuse his mistress, who, for her part, found it by no means easy to be amused. Because she liked the swishing sound of rending silk, he ordered the tearing up of large numbers of pieces of the costliest fabrics. The king had established outposts at which beacon-fires could be kindled and drums beaten to give warning of the incursions of the Huns. The melancholy princess could not be induced to smile until she was permitted to give the order for the lighting of the beacon in order that she might enjoy the discomfiture of the feudatory princes when they responded to the false alarm. At length the enemy arrived in reality; the cry of “Wolf” was given as usual, but this time in vain; no troops appeared; the king was taken prisoner and slain, and Pao Sze herself carried off, together with much booty. She is said to have committed suicide by strangling herself.

In the sixth year of this reign occurred the eclipse of the sun which gives us our earliest fixed point in Chinese chronology, viz:—Aug. 29, B. C. 766. The reference to the event is contained in one of the Odes of the Shi King:.

“At the conjunction of the sun and moon in the 10th month,

On the first day of the moon, which was sin mau,

The sun was eclipsed, a thing of very evil omen. 

Then the moon became small, and now the sun became small,

Henceforth the lower people will be in very deplorable case.”

P’ing Wang. B. C. 770-720.

P’ing Wang followed his father, Yu, and reigned for the most part peacefully. But the Chou dynasty was now past its zenith and, although destined to brave the storms of time for five centuries longer, the story was to be one of anarchy, assassination, misrule and trouble. The vassal princess became more and more powerful and therewith more and more independent. They began to take possession of entire provinces and to govern them without reference to the decrees of the Emperors. A good illustration in point is that kingdom of Lu (part of the modern province of Shan-tung) of which Confucius has given the continuous history for about two hundred and fifty years, namely, from B. C. 722 to 481. The history will be found in that one of the Confucian Classics known as Ch’un Tsiu or the Spring and Autumn Annals.

II.

FROM THE FIVE LEADERS TO THE TSIN EPOCH. B. C. 685-249.

Huan Wang.

The grandson of Ping Wang, Huan Wang, reigned from B. C. 719 to 679, but “tried in vain to assert his authority among the contending states.” The history of the next century, i.e. from B. C. 685 to 591, has been entitled the period of the Five Leaders because it exhibits the rise in succession to power of the five States of Ts’i, Sung, Tsin, Ts’in and Ch’u.

The Five Leaders. The five great princes who represent the successive periods of dominance are as follows:

1. Duke Huan of Ts’i, B. C. 685-643, whose fame is closely bound up with that of his great Prime Minister, the philosopher Kwan tsze, or Kwan Chung, noteworthy as the statesman-statistician who obtained a revenue for his master by the levying of taxes upon salt and iron. The philosophical work on government and legislation ascribed to Kwan tsze and called by his name is now generally regarded as a forgery of later times. Kwan tsze deserves mention not only as an economist but as a typical Chinese friend. The story of Kwan tsze and Pao Shuh corresponds in China to the Greek story of Damon and Pythias. “My parents,” said Kwan tsze, “gave me birth but Pao Shuh alone knows my feelings.”

Duke Huan was for thirty-nine years the undisputed leader among the feudal chiefs and a successful warrior against China’s foreign foes. He was evidently a shrewd judge of merit as is illustrated in the story of how he raised to the position of one of his chief counselors the philosopher, Ning Tsi, whom he discovered earning his bread as a wagoner. The Duke also appeals to us sympathetically as having sent back to her father a favorite wife who persisted in rocking the boat in which they were one day amusing themselves on the Lake. In his last illness the great chief lay neglected whilst his sons quarreled over the succession. It is a serious indictment against the filial piety of the time that the body of the dead ruler lay for months unburied and uncared for and the prestige of the state fell as rapidly as it had risen.

2. Duke Slang of Sung. B. C. 650-637.

3. Duke Wen of Tsin, B. C. 636-628, who came to the rulership of the State after he had declined to accept the position on terms which appeared to him dishonorable. “Fugitive as I am,” he said, “it is not the getting of the State which is precious in my sight, but the maintenance of my benevolence and my filial piety.” On his way through a certain district, he was once reduced to the necessity of begging for food. A churlish fellow offered him a clod of earth. The future duke, bowed, accepted the clod with the remark, “It is Heaven’s gift, a gift of the soil, a good omen,” 1 and took it along with him, as hopefully as Duke William of Normandy clutched the handful of sand when he slipped upon the sea beach of England. Duke Wen fought a great battle against the State of Ch’u in B. C. 632 and died four years after his victory.

4. Duke Mu of Ts’in, B. C. 659-621.

5. Prince Chuang of Ch’u, B. C. 613-591, who with success became audacious and sent to the Emperor an insolent message asking the size and weight of the Nine Tripods on which the security of the Empire was said to depend. The reply of the Emperor, Ting Wang, was not without its dignity: “When virtue is brilliant, the tripods are heavy; when the reverse, they are light; Heaven blesses intelligent virtue; on that its favor rests. Though the virtue of Chou is decayed, the decree of Heaven is not yet changed. The weight of the Tripods may not be enquired about.”

Lao-tsze.

The state of anarchy and confusion which, it is apparent, was prevailing at this time was not without its relief. Doubtless there were many happy interludes of government in the various states such as, for instance, the rule of Tsze Ch’an who from B. C. 584 to 571 ruled the Duchy of Cheng so well that “the doors were not locked at night and lost articles were not picked up from the highways.” Moreover, as some compensation for the political infelicities of the age we find in this very period of disruption  some of the greatest personalities of Chinese history. Of these, the first in date is the somewhat shadowy figure of Lao-tsze, the founder of Taoism. The name Lao-tsze may mean either “Aged Boy,” in allusion to the legend of his having been born already seventy years old and with white hair, or else “Old Philosopher.” His personal name was Li (Plum tree) and he was born about B. C. 604 in the State of Ch’u (the present provinces of Hu-peh and Hu-nan). Almost nothing is known of his life and some regard the whole story as mythical. He is said to have held an official position as Keeper of Archives at Loh under the Duke of Chou. The leading idea of his teaching was that of the mystic and quietist and was so diametrically opposed to the orthodox Confucianism that it is no wonder foreign origin has been suspected. There was never any very clear idea in China as to what the “Way” precisely was. According to Lao-tsze himself, “Those who know do not tell; those who tell do not know.” Confucius says that he studied the Tao for twenty years and came no nearer to the understanding of it. The one interview which legend ascribes to the two philosophers is said to have resulted in mutual perplexity. The exponent of the Way seemed to Confucius to be “soaring dragon-like above the clouds to Heaven.” Confucius himself was all for externals, for rules of propriety and the duties of the “superior man.” Lao-tsze asserted that “the crow does not become black through being painted nor the pigeon white through bathing.” Lao-tsze “anticipated the Christian doctrine of returning good for evil, a sentiment which was highly reprobated by the practical mind of Confucius, who declared that evil should be met by justice.” The classic of Taoism is known as the Tao Te King, or “Classic of the Way.” It is in all probability the work of a later age, perhaps of the 2nd Century B. C., but it is generally regarded as containing many of the sayings of Lao-tsze. Such are the following:

“Keep behind and you shall be put in front.

Keep out and you shall be put in.”

“Mighty is he who conquers himself.”

“He who is conscious of being strong is content to be weak.”

“He who is content has enough.”

“To the good I would be good.

To the not-good also I would be good in order to make them good.”

“Recompense injury with kindness.”

“Do nothing and all things will be done.”

“The weak overcomes the strong; the soft overcomes the hard.”

Lao-tsze passes from the page of history as mysteriously as he enters. He is said to have journeyed to the West and is represented in Art as riding on an ox, or in a car drawn by blue (or black) oxen. Yin Hi, the keeper of the gate at the frontier pass, warned beforehand in a dream, was the last to see him and procured from him in writing the philosophy of the Tao.

Lao-tsze’s chief interpreter was Chwang tsze who lived two centuries later and endeavored to rescue his master’s name from oblivion. The period of the Tsin dynasty was that which in one sense was the most favorable to Taoism, though from another point of view it led to so much corruption that some have even distinguished between Laoism, the teaching of the sage, and Taoism, the later, and corrupt, system. During the Tsin dynasty the Emperor was wont to expound Taoism to his courtiers and caused those who yawned to be executed. Tsin shih Hwang Ti, the “Burner of the Books,” was an ardent Taoist and sent a famous expedition to Japan in search of the Elixir Vita. The first sovereign of the Han dynasty was also much devoted to this faith and the hierarchy of Taoist Popes dates from about this time. The first Pope was Chang Tao ling who ascended to heaven at the age of 123 from the Dragon Tiger Mountain in Kiangs: on which his descendants have ever since resided. “He had acquired power to walk among the stars, to divide mountains and seas, to command the wind and the thunder, and to quell demons.” The later Taoism received from Buddhism the worst of that system as it imparted to Buddhism the best of its own. It is now little but a system of magic and charlatanry. The present “Great Wizard” or Pope is employed to expel evil spirits from the houses of the wealthy. “All new gods are employed by the Emperor through him, and on the first day of every month he gives audience to an invisible host of gods and demigods who come to present their compliments. This religion was bitterly opposed and persecuted at certain periods, notably by Kublai Khan in the 13th Century.,

Confucius.

Confucius, “the sage of the family Kung in the State of Lu,” was a little junior to Lao-tsze and the representative of the very opposite, and characteristically Chinese, type of philosophy. Many estimates have been formed of this remarkable man, but most will agree with the words of Von der Gabelentz: “If we are to measure the greatness of a historic personage, I can only see one standard applicable for the purpose: the effectiveness of that person’s influence according to its dimensions, duration and intensity. If this standard be applied Confucius was one of the greatest of men. For even at the present day, after the lapse of more than 2,000 years, the moral, social, and political life of about one-third of mankind continues to be under the full influence of his mind.”

Of course Confucius was, to a large extent, successful because he systematized, practiced and taught what was already accepted as the Chinese ideal. He himself disclaimed being an originator: he professed himself a “transmitter.” Here we can only give the main facts of his not very eventful life. The Kungs of Shan-tung are probably the oldest nobility on earth, being, in fact, the only hereditary nobility in China other than royalty, and, strangely enough, the descendants of the “Sea quelling” Duke, the famous pirate Coxinga. The present Duke of Kung traces his descent back seventy generations. Confucius, first of the line, was born B. C. 551. His father was a soldier, Shu-liang, a man of great bravery and strength, who distinguished himself at the siege of Pi-yang by holding open the portcullis by main force of arms. Shu-liang was seventy years old, with a family of nine daughters and one crippled son when he married the mother of Confucius. The birth took place in a cave of Mt. Ni, whither the woman had gone on pilgrimage. Hence the child’s name Chung-Ni, which later became Kung-'fu-tsz (Confucius). The father died when Confucius was three years old and he was brought up by his mother till the age of seven.

He was early distinguished for the gravity and formality of his deportment, and a familiar story tells of his playing at “rules of propriety” with his child comrades. At school he soon became a monitor and remained till the age of seventeen, when he accepted an under-Mandarinate, the inspectorship of the sale of grains. This office he filled with such success that a regular agricultural school was the result. At the age of nineteen he married, but the match turned out unfortunately, and the wife was divorced after giving birth to a son. This child was called Zi (carp) in allusion to a present of fish4 received that day from the Duke of Lo. Probably Confucius was but a cold father, as he had been a cold husband. A story tells of the question addressed to Li by a disciple of the sage, “Have you learned any lessons from your father different from those received by us?” The young man replied that Confucius had only addressed to him two questions, viz:— “Have you read the Odes?” and “Have you studied the Rules of Propriety?” From this answer the questioner deduced that the “superior man” always shows reserve towards his children.

For a time Confucius acted as Inspector of Fields and Herds, but the death of his mother necessitated a three years’ period of retirement which the sage consecrated to study, music and archery. He then became a teacher. “At thirty he stood firm,” and soon after had three thousand disciples by whom he was deeply reverenced. According to his own account, he was not patient with stupid scholars, but expected a pupil, when he himself had lifted one corner of a subject, to lift up the other three.

Raised to the position of Minister of Crime, he brought about notable reforms, insomuch that it is told, as of the reign of King Alfred of England, that jewels could be left upon the highways and. remain untouched. The Duke and his people, however, got tired of the moral severity of the sage’s influence, while Confucius himself, not unreasonably, got tired of the inconsistencies of the Duke and his court. He felt occasionally as much out of place as Dante at Verona, a very “stray dog,” as he expresses it. In the Duke’s progresses he said that it was a case of “Vice in front and virtue behind.” Hence he retired in despair, seeking a new sphere for politico-moral experiments or else confining himself to the instruction of his disciples. He died, discouraged at his apparent lack of success, at the age of seventy-two. “The great mountain must crumble, the strong beam must break, the wise man withers away like a plant.” He was buried at Ku-fu-hing where his grave is visited by multitudes of pilgrims.5 Confucius was mourned even by those who had despised his teaching. His work was carried on by others, especially, two centuries later, by Mencius. After a brief period of persecution during the Tsin Dynasty, the influence of Confucianism experienced a remarkable revival. Confucius was made Duke and Earl under the Han Dynasty; “Perfect Sage” in the 5th Century A.D.; King {Wang) under the T’ang Dynasty; Emperor (Hwang-ti) under the Sungs; while the Mings and Manchus learned to pay him reverence under the title, “Perfect Sage, Ancient Teacher.” This is not the place to describe in detail the principles of his philosophy. The effect of it is seen in the Chinese people today. The age-long training in the Five Relations, i.e. the proper relation of Emperor and Subject, Father and Son, Husband and Wife, Elder Brother and Younger Brother, Friend and Friend, assimilated even the barbarous Mongols and Manchus to Chinese ideals. Nevertheless, the weaknesses of the system are obvious, its externality, its lack of emotional power, its wrong theory of human nature,6 its narrow theory of life. In spite of all this, China would be grievously lacking in gratitude did she ever consent to give up her reverence for so pure and disinterested a teacher of righteousness. His grandson wrote the following impassioned eulogy which represents not unfairly the deliberate estimate of all educated China: “His fame overflows the Middle Kingdom and reaches the barbarians of north and south. Wherever ships and wagons can go, or the strength of man penetrate; wherever there is heaven above and earth below; wherever the sun and moon shed their light, or frosts or dews fall,—all who have blood and breath honor and love him. Wherefore it may be said that he is the peer of God.”

The Confucian Classics should be mentioned here, although an adequate account of them could only find place in a history of Chinese literature or philosophy. Some have suggested that the books which come under this head are all elaborate forgeries, but the general consensus of scholars is in favor of accepting the genuineness of nine works.

These are divided into the two classes, the Five King and the Four Shu, which have sometimes been described as respectively the Old and New Testaments of Chinese sacred literature.

The Five King are as follows:

1. The Shu King, or Book of History, consisting of fragmentary records of events extending from the time of Yao and Shun, B. C. 2400, down to B. C. 619.

2. The Shi King, or Book of Odes, a collection of 305 poems, sacrificial, lyrical and miscellaneous. Five of them go back to the time of the Shang Dynasty, B. C. 1800, while the remaining 300 belong to the times of the Chou.

3. The Yi King, or Book of Changes, the elaborated interpretation of the Sixty-four Hexagrams ascribed to Wen Wang and the Duke of Chou. It is a detailed application, by means of the Hexagrams, of the old Chinese philosophy of Whole and Broken lines, the Yang and the Yin, the Bright and the Dark, the Male and the Female, Active and Passive, Odd and Even, Strong and Weak.

4. The Li Ki, or Book of Rites, the “Vade Mecum” of “the superior man,” the text-book of the Board of Rites.

5. Ch'un Ts’iu, or “Spring and Autumn Annals,” the history of the State of Lu for a period of about two hundred and fifty years.

The Four Shu are these:

1. Lun Yu, or the Analects, consisting of dialogues of Confucius with his disciples, remarks on government, virtue, etc.

2. Tai Hiau, or “the Great Learning,” containing the detailed analysis of the process by means of which man becomes, first the Sage, then the Ruler. This is an exceedingly interesting little outline of Confucian ethics which has had extraordinary influence on the molding of Chinese character.

3. Chung Yung, or the Doctrine of the Mean, compiled by Kung Ki, the grandson of the Sage, of whose tenets he was one of the most enthusiastic exponents.

4. Mencius. The sayings of the philosopher of that name.

After Confucius.

From the 4th Century B. C. onwards we have a great deal of light thrown upon Chinese history in the work of Sze Ma Kiang, the historian of the 11th century A. D. It has been made accessible, so far as its material parts are concerned, for foreigners in the great work of Father de Maille.

The story told makes it quite apparent that the last days of the Chou dynasty were at this time approaching and that there was a general weakening of the central Government in its relation to the many contending States, amongst which the State of Tsin, with its foreign elements of race and culture, was the most conspicuous. The puppet Emperors of the period have for us little or no interest and may be dismissed with scant notice. But, by way of compensation, there are three or four philosophers on account of whom the period is not only interesting but quite important.

Mencius.

First of all there is the great apostle of Confucianism, Meng-ko, whose name is most familiar to us in its Latinized form as Mencius. He was the contemporary of Plato, born in the province of Shan-tung, not far from the birthplace of his illustrious master. His mother is the model Chinese mother, so solicitous for her son’s welfare that she moved her residence from time to time in order to avoid a dangerous moral environment. From the neighborhood of a cemetery she moved to prevent her little son from mimicking the mourners; from the neighborhood of a slaughter house she moved again to stop him from imitating the cries of the slaughtered animals; from a house near the market to avoid his acquiring the manners of the trading classes; and so on until by design or chance, she settled upon the vicinity of a school. This proved so satisfactory on either side that no further move was required. “At a later period,” says Mayers, “she destroyed with a knife a web of cloth on which she was engaged as a practical lesson to her son who showed a disposition to trifle in his studies.” The famous woman was, as we might expect, highly reverenced by Mencius and, when she died, he gave her a most sumptuous funeral. The philosopher was a great political economist, and his teachings were of a most democratic character. He taught that of the three objects of regard, the gods, the Emperor and the people, the people came first, the gods second and the Emperor only third. He defended, consequently, the right of the people to rebel, saying: “When the prince is guilty of great errors, the minister should reprove him; if, after doing so again and again, he does not listen, he should dethrone him and put another in his place.” “He who gains the hearts of the people,” he said again, “secures the throne, and he who loses the people’s heart, loses the throne.” Mencius insistently urged upon rulers the benevolent administration of their realms. Provided, he said, taxes were light and government just, the nation would need no army of mailed warriors but would be able to beat off their foreign enemies “with mere sticks in their hands.” He is regarded as the leading advocate, if not the author, of the “tsing” system, whereby land was divided into nine portions by lines resembling the ideograph “tsing.” The eight outside divisions were cultivated by individual owners for their own profit; the middle portion was cultivated jointly for the benefit of the State. Mencius lived the last twenty years of his life in retirement and died B. C. 289 in his 84th year.

Yang Chu.

A philosopher of a quite differerent type was Yang Chu or Lie-tsze (Latinized as Licius). He is the Chinese Qoheleth, the pessimist Epicurean who followed his inclination and sought happiness in pleasure. Yet he taught at the same time that life was not worth the living and that after death comes nothing. It is interesting to note that Epicurus, with whom in many respects he agrees, was his contemporary. As was natural Yang Chu and Mencius were lifelong adversaries.

Mo-ti, or Nidus, was of still another order. The two men, says Legge (alluding to Mo-ti and Yang Chu), “stood at opposite poles of human thought and sentiment.” Mo-ti is the altruist, the teacher of the principle that “all evils arise from lack of mutual love.” He too was opposed to, and by, Mencius.

Chwang tsze.

At this time too lived the great interpreter of Taoism, Chwang tsze, who has already been alluded to. But for the dominance of Confucianism at this time, his reputation would probably have stood higher than was actually the case. He plainly reflects in his writings, which have much charm, an Indian influence, as in the closing lines of his poem on “Peaceful Old Age.”

“Thus strong in faith I wait, and long to be

One with the pulsings of Eternity.”

Chwang tsze mingled wit with his philosophy and humility with both. The following story is a good illustration:

“Chwang tsze was fishing in the P’u when the Prince of Ch’u sent two high officials to ask him to take charge of the administration of the Ch’u State. Chwang tsze went on fishing, and, without turning his head, said: ‘I have heard that in Ch’u there is a sacred tortoise which has been dead now some three thousand years, and that the Prince keeps this tortoise carefully enclosed in a chest on the altar of his ancestral temple. Now, would this tortoise rather be dead and have its remains venerated, or be alive and wagging its tail in the mud?’

“ ‘It would rather be alive,’ replied the two officials, ‘and wagging its tail in the mud.’

“ ‘Begone!’ cried Chwang tsze, ‘I too will wag my tail in the mud.’ ”.

He forbade his followers to give his body burial, saying, “I will have Heaven and Earth for my sarcophagus; the sun and moon shall be the insignia where I lie in state, and all creation shall be mourners at my funeral.”

The Story of Chu Yuan.

The corruption of the times and the despair of good men is illustrated by the story of the loyal minister, Chu Yuan, who wrote his allegorical poem, “Falling into Trouble,” to describe the search for a prince who might be induced to give heed to counsels of good government. Driven at last to despair by the successful intrigues of his rivals, he went to the river to commit suicide. “All the world,” he said, “is foul and I am clean.” “The true sage,” replied the fisherman, “does not quarrel with his environment. If the world is foul why not leap into it and make it clean.” But Chu Yuan, clasping a big stone, leaped instead into the river, and the Dragon Festival which takes place every year on the 5th day of the 5th month, is said to represent the search for his body.

Su Ts’in.

From the middle of the 4th Century it was becoming difficult to hold the States together against the constantly growing menace of the Kingdom of Tsin. One man indeed in this turbulent epoch deserves mention for his efforts to this end, namely, the statesman Su Ts’in, who in B. C. 333 actually succeeded in forming a league of the six States of Yen, Chao, Han, Wei, Ts’i and Ts’u. For a while he managed the confederation successfully, moving from court to court to impart backbone to the respective princes. But internal intrigue nullified his efforts and he was assassinated. He is famous as the author of the saying: “It is better to be a fowl’s beak than the hinder part of an ox.” After his death war broke out between the States and made the success of the Tsins certain. In an encounter between the forces of Yen and those of Ts’i, a hero of the latter state more than emulated the Biblical story of Samson and the foxes. He collected a host of oxen, tied swords to their horns and bunches of greased reeds to their tails and drove them against the enemy who were routed in great confusion.

Nan Wang. B. C. 314-256.

The last monarch of the Chou dynasty was Nan Wang, who reigned nearly sixty years, during which time he vainly tried by means of alliances of various kinds to stem the successful career of the State of Tsin. Victory after victory marked the slow but sure advance of the enemy and Nan Wang died just in time to avoid witnessing the spectacle of the once mighty house of Chou crumbling into ruins. The regent whom he left in charge was made prisoner and the Nine Tripods of Yu captured.

A short period of interregnum or anarchy followed and then the destinies of China passed into the keeping of the short-lived but glorious Dynasty of Tsin.

THE TSIN DYNASTY

B. C. 249-210.

Chiang Stang Wang.

The history of the State of Tsin slides almost insensibly into that of the Imperial Tsin Dynasty. Chao Siang Wang, who had reigned fifty-two years over the State of Tsin, died and left the succession to Hiao Wen Wang. After a reign of but three days this ruler (if we venture to give him the title) died, yielding up his scarcely occupied throne to Prince I Jen, who took the name of Chiang Siang Wang. The chief minister of this sovereign was a former traveling merchant of the name of Lu-pu-wei who became known, first as literatus and then as counselor. As literatus he had such confidence in his own ability that he suspended a thousand pieces of gold at the gates of his house as a reward to any person who could better his composition by the addition or omission of a single word. Such a temptation, hardly to be re-78 sisted by any modern critic, apparently fell in the way of no literary opponent. As minister. Lu-pu-wei betrayed his master’s confidence by an intrigue with the Queen which resulted in the birth of the Prince Cheng, afterwards the famous First Emperor. Chwang banished his minister but adopted the boy, who was left to. fill the throne, made vacant by his adopted father’s death, at the age of thirteen. The uncertainty about his birth continued to be a stumbling block to some, and later on became a convenient tool for his enemies and detractors. It makes no difference to the real greatness of “the Napoleon of China.”

Tsin shih hwang ti.

About a generation before the end of the Chou dynasty a certain politician was advising one of the feudal Kings to make peace with another with whom he was then engaged in hostilities. “I saw this morning,” he said, “on the beach a mussel open its shell to sun itself. Immediately an oyster catcher thrust in its bill and as promptly the mussel closed its shell and held the bird fast. ‘If it doesn’t rain soon,’ said the oyster catcher, ‘there will be a dead mussel.’ ‘And,’ replied the mussel, ‘if you don’t get out of this soon there v ill be a dead oyster catcher.’ Meanwhile up came a fisherman and caught them both.” “I greatly fear,” added the politician, “that the Tsin state will be our fisherman.” The fear proved only too well grounded. In Tsin shih hwang ti China found a ruler who had the Imperial idea beyond any of his predecessors. Beyond the doubt as to the legitimacy of his birth there is something puzzling about his racial affinity. The theory has even been ventured that he was in some way connected with that Maury an dynasty which at this very time was ruling in India in the person of Asoka. The latter was successfully achieving in India what Shih hwang ti attempted to accomplish in China, even to the religious revolution which accompanied the consolidation of the Empire. It would be strange indeed could we but accept this theory as proven, but all that can be said here is that the portrait of the first great Chinese Emperor presents some striking contrasts to the usual Chinese type. In any case, as we have said above, his greatness is incontestable, in spite of the fact that the Confucian literati endeavored to do for him by abuse what the Brahmins succeeded in doing for Asoka by ten centuries of silence. They called him bastard, debauchee and fool, but they cannot blind us to the tremendous importance of the work he did.

The First Emperor.

Three special claims to distinction must be conceded to Tsin shih hwang ti. The first of these is in the use of the name China as a designation for the whole country. While not certain, it is in the highest degree probable, that it was on account of the prestige of the first Emperor’s name and state that the use of the term China came about. In any case, Tsin shih hwang ti was the country’s first real conqueror, going about the matter deliberately and accomplishing his aim thoroughly. The two great generals whose assistance was most helpful were Wang Tsien and Li Sin. The former subdued the state of Chao in B. C. 229 and was then ordered to proceed to the subjugation of T’su. He demanded an army of 600,000 men for the task, but Li Sin, his rival, offered to do it with only 200,000 and was, consequently, badly defeated. Wang Tsien then gained his point, collected the largest army China had ever seen and, wearing out his adversary through his Fabian tactics, brought the campaign to a successful conclusion in B. C. 222. By B. C. 221 the Emperor was master of all China and assumed the title of Shih hwang ti, or first Emperor, proclaiming that all his successors should date their reigns from his and be known as Second, Third, and so on, “even to the ten thousandth generation.” Alas! for the vanity of human pride!

The Building of the Great Wall.

This stupendous rampart was built, from the Liaotung Gulf to the western extremity of the Province of Shen-si, in pursuance of the policy of protecting the northern boundary from the Tatars. The enterprise necessitated the labors of tens of thousands of men for many years, although in some places the work was limited to connecting portions of already existing walls. The general in charge was Meng Tien who, on the death of his master and the murder of his successor, committed suicide. It is strange that to this famous builder of the Great Wall of China should be also assigned the invention of the hair brush used for writing. Huge as the work of constructing the Great Wall undoubtedly was, it was only one portion of a general plan for connecting the various parts of the Empire with good roads and so making the defense more practical than it had hitherto been. Indeed, one’s admiration of the Wall is even excelled by the feeling of wonder at the many other great engineering undertakings, the piercing of mountains, the leveling of hills, the bridging of rivers, by means of which the conquests of Tsin shih hwang ti were made secure and the imperial unity consolidated. Other notable works include the erection of the great palace of A-Fong Kung, near Hien-yang, on which it is said 700,000 criminals and prisoners were employed at forced labor. “The central hall was of such dimensions that ten thousand persons could be assembled within it and banners sixty feet in height might be unfurled below.” Another was the building of the many storied tower in the province of Shan-tung, overtopping the hills and commanding an extensive view of the Eastern Sea.

The Burning of the Books.

The real reason for the destruction of the Confucian books and for the persecution of the literati may never be known, as the accounts which have survived contradict one another. Some say that the Confucianists reproved the Emperor for unfilial conduct in the banishment of his mother. Others assert that it was the Emperor’s ambition to be known as the originator of all that was great in Chinese history and wanted no prior records in his way. A quite plausible account, given by the historian Sze ma tshien relates that a certain Minister of learning reproaching the Emperor for breaking down the feudal system, Li Sze (known as the inventor of the Lesser Seal1 style of writing) sprang to the defense and warmly advocated the destruction of everything which belonged to the past as a policy which would stimulate the progress of the Empire. We may well conceive that the brilliant conqueror found the Confucian system rather too inelastic for his own grandiose and imperial projects and that he was genuinely glad to find an excuse for ridding himself of the “dead hand” of the great Sage and of the precedents furnished by the “Model Emperors.” In any event, his procedure was sufficiently sweeping. The Confucian Classics (with the single exception of the Yi-King) and all other literature (with the exception of works on agriculture, medicine and divination) were so thoroughly destroyed that when the Han dynasty assumed the task of reviving the old studies, copies of the classics were with difficulty discovered in the walls of houses, or reintegrated from the memories of men. It is said that Kung Fu, a descendant of Confucius in the ninth degree, was one who had preserved hidden in the walls of the ancestral house copies of the old books. But, as observed above, it has been possible in our own day for writers to deny the very existence of the Confucian classics prior to the time of the historian Sze ma tshien who is charged with having forged them. The literati shared with the books the wrath of the tyrant and some hundreds of them (four hundred and sixty, to be precise) are said to have been put to death under circumstances of such revolting cruelty that the Emperor’s own eldest son felt compelled to protest. For this interposition he was banished and all those who resisted the surrender of their books were branded and forced to work for four years on the Great Wall.

Taoist Propaganda.

The persecution of Confucianism went hand in hand with an ardent advocacy of Taoism. Shih Hwang Ti’s belief in this religion was perhaps in large part the result of his desire to obtain the coveted Elixir Vitae, but a whole mass of more or less interesting fable has associated itself with the Emperor’s devotion to the cult, now far removed from its first purity. It is of this reign that the story is told of the Taoist Rip Van Winkle which bears so close a resemblance to the American version that it may be worth the re-telling. It concerns the patriarch Wang Chih who having wandered in the mountains of K’u Chow to gather firewood entered a grotto in which some aged men were seated intent upon a game of chess. He laid down his ax and looked on at their game, in course of which one of the men handed to him a thing in shape and size like a date-stone, telling him to put it in his mouth. No sooner had he tasted it than he became oblivious of hunger and thirst! After some time had elapsed, one of the players said: “It is long since you came here; you should go home now!” Whereupon, Wang Chih, proceeding to pick up his ax, found that its handle had moldered into dust. On repairing to his home he found that centuries had passed since the time when he had left it for the mountains and that no vestige of his kinsfolk remained.

Another Taoist patriarch, An Ki Sheng, visited the Emperor B. C. 221 and conversed with him for three days and three nights. The result of the interview was the sending of the famous expedition to the Eastern seas.

“The Isles of the Blest.”

Tsin Shih Hwang ti “allowed himself to be persuaded into the belief that in the Eastern sea there were golden Islands of the Blest, where dwelt genii, whose business and delight it was to dispense to all visitors to their shores a draught of immortality compounded of the fragrant herbs which grew in profusion around them.” Twice over was an expedition dispatched to discover these “Isles of the Blest.” Su She and Lu Ngao, Taoist magicians, were put in command and several thousands of girls and young men accompanied the explorers. Both attempts, however, ended in failure. The expeditions were, it is said, driven back by contrary winds, though it is highly probable that Japan benefited by some access of population. So great a monarch as Shih Hwang ti may well have feared the shadow of death and craved a few more years in which to continue his work, but “le breuvage de l’immortalité” was not for him, and he died B. C. 210. Many of his wives and many of his warriors, in accordance with the old Scythian custom, were buried alive near his tomb that he, who had employed so many on earth, might not want his servants in the grave.

The Tomb of Shih Hwang ti.

Of this tomb, excavated in a mountain, we have the following account: “Upon the floor, which had a foundation of bronze, was a map of the Empire with rivers of quicksilver; the roof was studded with the constellations. All around were mechanical arrangements for shooting stones and arrows immediately upon the appearance of any intruders; while huge candles of seal’s fat, calculated to burn for an indefinite period, threw their light upon the scene. When the passages leading to the chamber had been stopped up, and before the workmen who knew the secrets had come forth, the great outer gate was dropped, and they were all buried alive. The entrance was banked up with earth, and grass and plants were sown to conceal it from view.”

End of the Dynasty.

The close of the Tsin dynasty came almost simultaneously with the death of Tsin shih hwang ti. The elder and stronger minded son, Fu Su, had been banished as a result of his protest against the massacre of the literati. The younger son, Hu Hai, was under the influence of an ambitious and masterful eunuch, Chao Kao, who weeded out the more independent and capable advisers by a device suggestive of Polonius. He would present a stag to the Emperor and say, “Here is a horse.” If any of the ministers said it was anything but a horse, their disgrace was sealed. “It is certainly a horse,” said the weak and complaisant ones, and these remained. It is no wonder that the young Emperor, trained under such auspices as these, proved an easy victim to the wiles of the unscrupulous eunuch. Chao Kao, however, met his own fate soon afterwards and Hu Hai’s semblance of power only lasted three years. Anarchy followed; even the wonderful tomb of the great conqueror was desecrated and destroyed. The secret chambers were rifled and the fine buildings razed to the ground by the general Hiang-yu. Nothing was left but the coffin and even this was shortly after burned, when a shepherd, seeking a lost sheep, dropped by accident his torch in the cavern and set fire to the dry and crumbling ruins which had been left. “Sic transit gloria mundi.”

THE HAN DYNASTY

B. C. 210—A. D. 220.

Kao Tsu.

 The dynasty of Han which lasted for four centuries and included the reigns of thirty-two Emperors was founded by the successful soldier of fortune, Liu pang. Liu pang was originally a peasant of the province of Kiang su who made himself popular among his fellowvillagers by his good nature and courage and made himself wealthy by marriage with the woman who afterwards became notorious as the Empress Lu How. Chosen as the head of a band of insurgents Liu pang gradually attracted to himself leaders of influence and ability, and, proclaiming himself Prince of Han, took advantage of the disturbed condition of the country at the close of the Tsin dynasty to fight his way to supreme power. His principal opponent was 89 his fellow general, Hiang Yu, a man of immense stature, strength and courage. Victory, however, fell to the lot of Liu pang and the Empire recognized the victor who forthwith assumed the yellow Robe under the title of Kao Tsu. The reign lasted about seven years and was marked by considerable wisdom and moderation.

Lu How.

Not so much can be said in favor of the reign which immediately followed. The widow of Kao Tsu terrorized the young prince, her son, who succeeded to the throne, until, at the end of seven years, he was driven into sheer imbecility and died. The masterful Empress then reigned alone and in her own right until her death in B. C. 180. It is the only instance of a female rule over China which is regarded by the historians as possessing a legitimate title. A more attractive personality is that of Wen Ti, who succeeded the stalwart Empress. The moderation and unselfishness of his character are illustrated by the story that he abandoned the building of his projected “Dew Tower” when he learned that its cost would be a hundred bars of gold. “I will not spend on this building,” he said, “what will furnish ten households with a fortune.”

Wu ti. B.C. 140-87.

The greatest of the Han sovereigns was undoubtedly the sixth of the dynasty, Wu ti, whose long reign of fifty-four years was one of the most splendid in the whole history of China. He was an enthusiastic patron of literature and during his earlier years he did much to promote the study of the re-discovered Confucian classics. His proclamation, calling for men of genius to present themselves at court, met with a prompt response. Among those who came was the famous Tung fang so. This worthy replied to the imperial invitation in this wise: “I am now twenty-two years old; I am 9 feet 3 inches high; my eyes are like swinging pearls; my teeth like a row of shells. I am brave as Meng Pen, prompt as Ch’ing Chi, pure as Pao Shu Ya, devoted as Wei Shang. I consider myself fit to be an high officer of State and with my life in my hand await your Majesty’s reply.” He was received, and rose to the office of Censor. On many occasions he kept the Emperor amused by his wit, but on one occasion drank a potion of Immortality, brewed by some Taoist sage for his Majesty’s own use, and was thereupon condemned to death. He got out of the scrape by exclaiming: “If the potion was genuine, you cannot kill me, whereas, if it was not, what harm has been done?” Wu ti displayed in his later life a great devotion to the superstitions and magical rites of Taoism and is said to have been the author of the so-called “Dew-receiving Vase” in the belief that the drinking of the dew thus collected would secure immortality. His addiction to Taoism may have given rise to the legends of the visits of the fairy Queen, Si Wang Mu, the Queen Mother of the West, already referred to in connection with the reign of Muh Wang. Wu ti initiated a series of Imperial pilgrimages on the most gorgeous scale to perform sacrificial rites at the various mountain shrines.

Wu ti’s real fame rests upon the remarkable expansion of the Empire westward which his reign witnessed. He found on his accession that the Empire was seriously threatened by the growing power of the Hiung nu, or Huns, and labored hard (not without much success) to oppose their advances through his own generals and by means of alliance with the Yueh chih, or Indo-Scythians, against the common enemy. Many famous generals come to the front in this memorable conflict, a conflict which had the most far-reaching results both for Europe and Asia. There was Chang K’ien, who “pierced the void” by penetrating to the extreme west, from whence he brought back not only the laurels of victory but the Persian grape vine. There was Li Kwang, victorious in seventy battles against the Huns, who committed suicide after his last victory, because the Khan, for whose capture he had pledged his word, managed to escape. There was also Li Kwang Li, who in B. C. 104 carried his victorious banners to the borders of Persia. Not less notable again was the ambassador Su Wu who in B. C. 100 was sent on a mission to the Hun chief and there detained a prisoner for nineteen years. Compelled to tend the flocks of the Huns in the deserts around Lake Balkash, he retained all those years his rod of office which he used as a shepherd’s staff. His captivity was at last discovered when a wild goose, with a message from the home-sick exile fastened to its feathers, was shot by the Emperor in his imperial hunting grounds. Su Wu returned at last, B. C. 81, a prematurely old and broken man, but an immortal example of loyalty and patriotic spirit.

Remarkable testimony to the thoroughness with which the work of caring for the interests of the empire in the western marches is afforded by Dr. Aurel Stein in his recent book, “The Ruins of Desert Cathay.” Here we are brought face to face with the wall which was built to exclude China’s most formidable foreign foes. The evidences are still plain, in the long, straight furrow which is still discernible some twenty feet from the line of the wall, of the vigilance with which the sentinels fulfilled their duty when they mounted guard. The very stacks of reeds which were kept along the road to serve as material for fire signals have been discovered in the sand, where for two millenniums they were buried. Newly discovered documents give exact details of the campaigns, together with an account of all the provisions made for transforming an army of conquest into an agricultural colony. We know what clothing was served out to the soldiers and what their weapons were, down to the number of arrows allowed to each quiver. We enter into all the intimate circumstances of the daily life of the colony and can appreciate to the full the old poem which Dr. Stein quotes, translated by M. Chavannes:

“Every ten li a horse starts;

Every five li a whip is raised high.;

A military order of the Protector

General of the Transfrontier regions has arrived

With news that the Huns were besieging Chiu Chuan;

But just then the snowflakes were falling on the hills

Along which the barrier stretches,

And the signal fires could raise no smoke.”

Sze Ma Tshien on the Han Dynasty.

The general trend of the history of China under the Han dynasty has never been more vividly and comprehensively set forth than in the following passage from the great historian of the period, Sze Ma Tshien. The quotation, though a long one, will readily be excused.