SOME CHINESE MANNERS AND CUSTOMS
A foreigner arriving for the first time in China will be especially
struck by three points to which he is not accustomed at home.
The people will consist almost entirely of men; they will all wear
their hair plaited in queues; and they will all be exactly alike.
The seclusion of women causes the traveller least surprise of the
three, being a custom much more rigorously enforced in other Oriental
countries; and directly he gets accustomed to the uniform absence of
beard and moustache, he soon finds out that the Chinese people are not
one whit more alike facially than his own countrymen of the West.
A Chinaman cannot wear a beard before he is forty, unless he happens
to have a married son. He also shaves the whole head with the exception
of a round patch at the back, from which the much-prized queue is
grown.
There are some strange misconceptions as to the origin and meaning
of the queue, more perhaps on the other side of the Atlantic, where we
are not so accustomed to Chinamen as you are in America. Some associate
the queue with religion, and gravely state that without it no Chinaman
could be hauled into Paradise. Others know that queues have only been
worn by the Chinese for about two hundred and fifty years, and that
they were imposed as a badge of conquest by the Manchu-Tartars, the
present rulers of China. Previous to 1644 the Chinese clothed their
bodies and dressed their hair in the style of the modern Japanese,—of
course I mean those Japanese who still wear what is wrongly known as
“the beautiful native dress of Japan,”—wrongly, because as a matter of
fact the Japanese borrowed their dress, as well as their literature,
philosophy, and early lessons in art, from China. The Japanese dress is
the dress of the Ming period in China, 1368-1644.
It remains still to be seen whence and wherefore the Manchu-Tartars
obtained this strange fashion of the queue.
The Tartars may be said to have depended almost for their very
existence upon the horse; and in old pictures the Tartar is often seen
lying curled up asleep with his horse, illustrating the mutual
affection and dependence between master and beast. Out of sheer
gratitude and respect for his noble ally, the man took upon himself the
form of the animal, growing a queue in imitation of the horse's tail.
Unsupported by any other evidence, this somewhat grotesque theory
would fall to the ground. But there is other evidence, of a
rather striking character, which, taken in conjunction with what has
been said, seems to me to settle the matter.
Official coats, as seen in China at the present day, are made with
very peculiar sleeves, shaped like a horse's leg, and ending in what is
an unmistakable hoof, completely covering the hand. These are actually
known to the Chinese as “horse-shoe sleeves”; and, encased therein, a
Chinaman's arms certainly look very much like a horse's forelegs. The
tail completes the picture.
When the Tartars conquered China two hundred and fifty years ago,
there was at first a strenuous fight against the queue, and it has been
said that the turbans still worn by the Southern Chinese were
originally adopted as a means of concealing the hateful Manchu badge.
Nowadays every Chinaman looks upon his queue as an integral and
honourable part of himself. If he cannot grow one, he must have
recourse to art, for he could not appear tailless, either in this world
or the next.
False queues are to be seen hanging in the streets for sale. They
are usually worn by burglars, and come off in your hand when you think
you have caught your man. Prisoners are often led to, and from, gaol by
their queues, sometimes three or four being tied together in a gang.
False hair is not confined entirely to the masculine queue. Chinese
ladies often use it as a kind of chignon; and it is an historical fact
that a famous Empress, who set aside the Emperor and ruled China with
an Elizabethan hand from A.D. 684 to 705, used to present herself in
the Council Chamber, before her astonished ministers, fortified by an
artificial beard.
Dyeing the hair, too, has been practised in China certainly from the
Christian era, if not earlier, chiefly by men whose hair and beards
begin to grow grey too soon. One of the proudest titles of the Chinese,
carrying them back as it does to prehistoric times, is that of the
Black-haired People, also a title, perhaps a mere coincidence, of the
ancient Accadians. In spite, however, of the universality of black hair
in both men and women, there are exceptions to the rule, and I myself
have seen a Chinese albino, with the usual light-coloured hair and pink
eyes.
* * * * *
The Rev. Dr. Arthur Smith, an American missionary, has long been
known for his keen insight into the workings of the Chinese mind. In
his last book, China in Convulsion, under the head of
“Protestant Missions,” he makes the following important
statement,—important not only to those who intend to take part in
missionary work, but also to the official, to the explorer, and to the
merchant:—
“It would be unfair,” he says, “not to point out that when a large
body of Occidentals, imperfectly acquainted with the Chinese language,
etiquette, modes of thought, and intellectual presuppositions, begins
on a large and universal scale the preaching of an uncompromising
system of morals and doctrines like Christianity, there must be much
which, unconsciously to themselves, rouses Chinese prejudices.”
The following maxim comes from Confucius:—
“If you visit a foreign State, ask what the prohibitions are; if you
go into a strange neighbourhood, enquire what the manners and customs
are.” Certainly it is altogether desirable that a foreigner going to
China, whether in an official capacity, or as merchant, missionary, or
traveller, should have some acquaintance with the ordinary rules and
ceremonial of Chinese social life. Such knowledge will often go far to
smooth away Chinese prejudices against the barbarian, and on occasions
might conceivably aid in averting a catastrophe.
It is true that Lao Tzu said, “Ceremonies are but the veneer of
loyalty and good faith.” His words, however, have not prevailed against
the teaching of Confucius, who was an ardent believer in the value of
ceremonial. One of the latter's disciples wished, as a humanitarian, to
abolish the sacrifice of a sheep upon the first day of every month; but
Confucius rebuked him, saying, “My son, you love the sheep; I love the
ceremony.”
When, during his last visit to England, Li Hung-chang made remarks
about Mr. Chamberlain's eyeglass, he was considered by many to be
wanting in common politeness. But from the Chinese point of view it was
Mr. Chamberlain who was offending—quite unwittingly, of
course—against an important canon of good taste. It is a distinct
breach of Chinese etiquette to wear spectacles while speaking to an
equal. The Chinese invariably remove their glasses when conversing; for
what reason I have never been able to discover. One thing is quite
certain: they do not like being looked at through a medium of glass or
crystal, and it costs the foreigner nothing to fall in with their
harmless prejudice.
Chinese street etiquette is also quite different from our own, a
fact usually ignored by blustering foreigners, who march through a
Chinese town as if the place belonged to them, and not infrequently
complain that coolies and others will not “get out of their way.” Now
there is a graduated scale of Chinese street rights in this particular
respect, to which, as being recognised by the Chinese themselves, it
would be advisable for foreigners to pay some attention. In England it
has been successfully maintained that the roadway belongs to all
equally, foot-passengers, equestrians, and carriage-passengers alike.
Not so in China; the ordinary foot-passenger is bound to “get out of
the way” of the lowest coolie who is carrying a load; that same coolie
must make way, even at great inconvenience to himself, for a
sedan-chair; an empty chair yields the way to a chair with somebody
inside; a chair, inasmuch as being more manageable, gets out of the way
of a horse; and horse, chair, coolie, and foot-passenger, all clear the
road for a wedding or other procession, or for the retinue of a
mandarin.
At the same time a Chinaman may stop his cart or barrow, or dump
down his load, just where-ever he pleases, and other persons have to
make the best of what is left of the road. I have even seen a
theatrical stage built right across a street, completely blocking it,
so that all traffic had to be diverted from its regular course. There
are no municipal regulations and no police in China, so that the people
have to arrange things among themselves; and, considering the
difficulties inherent in such an absence of government, it may fairly
be said that they succeed remarkably well.
When two friends meet in the street, either may put up his fan and
screen his face; whereupon the other will pass by without a sign of
recognition. The meaning is simply, “Too busy to stop for a chat,” and
the custom, open and above-board as it is, compares favourably perhaps
with the “Not at home” of Western civilisation.
I do not know of any Chinese humorist who ever, as in the old story,
shouted out to a visitor, “I am not at home.” Confucius himself
certainly came very near to doing so. It is on record that when an
unwelcome visitor came to call, the sage sent out to say that he was
too ill to receive guests, at the same time seizing his harpsichord and
singing to it from an open window, in order to expose the hollowness of
his own plea.
Any one on horseback, or riding in a sedan-chair, who happens to
meet a friend walking, must dismount before venturing to salute him.
However to obviate the constant inconvenience of so doing, the
foot-passenger is in duty bound to screen his face as above; and thus,
by a fiction which deceives nobody, much unnecessary trouble is saved.
When two mandarins of equal rank find themselves face to face in
their sedan-chairs, those attendants among their retinues who carry the
enormous wooden fans rush forward and insert these between the passing
chairs, so that their masters may be presumed not to see each other and
consequently not be obliged to get out.
No subordinate can ever meet a higher mandarin in this way; the
former must turn down some by-street immediately on hearing the
approaching gong of his superior officer. A mandarin's rank can be told
by the number of consecutive strokes on the gong, ranging from thirteen
for a viceroy to seven for a magistrate.
Take the case of a Chinese visitor. He should be received at the
front door, and be conducted by the host to a reception-room, the host
being careful to see that the visitor is always slightly in advance.
The act of sitting down should be simultaneous, so that neither party
is standing while the other is seated. If the host wishes to be very
attentive, he may take a cup of tea from his servant's hands and
himself arrange it for his guest.
Here comes another most important and universal rule: in handing
anything to, or receiving anything from, an equal both hands must be
used. A servant should hand a cup of tea with both hands, except when
serving his master and a guest. Then he takes one cup in each hand, and
hands them with the arms crossed. I was told that the crossing was in
order to exhibit to each the “heart,” i.e. the palm, of the
hand, in token of loyalty.
There is a curious custom in connection with the invariable cup of
tea served to a visitor on arrival which is often violated by
foreigners, to the great amusement of the Chinese. The tea in question,
known as guest-tea, is not intended for ordinary drinking purposes, for
which wine is usually provided. No sooner does the guest raise the cup
of tea to his lips, or even touch it with his hand, than a shout is
heard from the servants, which means that the interview is at an end
and that the visitor's sedan-chair is to be got ready. Drinking this
tea is, in fact, a signal for departure. A host may similarly, without
breach of good manners, be the first to drink, and thus delicately
notify the guest that he has business engagements elsewhere.
Then again, it is the rule to place the guest at one's left hand,
though curiously enough this only dates from the middle of the
fourteenth century, previous to which the right hand was the place of
honour.
Finally, when the guest takes his leave, it is proper to escort him
back to the front door. That, at any rate, is sufficient, though it is
not unusual to accompany a guest some part of his return journey. In
fact, the Chinese proverb says, “If you escort a man at all, escort him
all the way.” This, however, is rhetorical rather than practical,
somewhat after the style of another well-known Chinese proverb, “If you
bow at all, bow low.”
A Chinese invitation to dinner differs somewhat from a similar
compliment in the West. You will receive a red envelope containing a
red card,—red being the colour associated with festivity,—on which it
is stated that by noon on a given day the floor will be swept, the
wine-cups washed, and your host in waiting to meet your chariot. Later
on, a second invitation will arrive, couched in the same terms; and
again another on the day of the banquet, asking you to be punctual to
the minute. To this you pay no attention, but make preparations to
arrive about 4 P.M., previous to which another and more urgent summons
may very possibly have been sent. All this is conventional, and the
guests assemble at the same hour, to separate about 9 P.M.
Women take no part in Chinese social entertainments except among
their own sex. It is not even permissible to enquire after the wife of
one's host. Her very existence is ignored. A man will talk with
pleasure about his children, especially if his quiver is well stocked
with boys.
In this connection I may say that the position of women in China
still seems to be very widely misunderstood. Not only that, but a very
frightful crime is alleged against the Chinese people as a common
practice in everyday life, which, if not actually approved, meets
everywhere with toleration.
I allude to the charge of infanticide, confined of course to girls,
for it has not often been suggested that Chinese parents do away with
such a valuable asset as a boy.
Miss Gordon Cumming, the traveller, in her Wanderings in China, has the following impassioned paragraph in reference to her visit to
Ningpo:—
“The delicate fragrance (of the roses and honeysuckle), alas! cannot
overpower the appalling odours which here and there assail us,
poisoning the freshness of the evening breezes.
“These are wafted from the Baby Towers, two of which we had to pass.
These are square towers, with small windows, about twelve feet from the
ground, somewhat resembling pigeon-towers; these strange dove-cotes are
built to receive the bodies of such babies as die too young to have
fully developed souls, and therefore there is no necessity to waste
coffins on them, or even to take the trouble of burying them in the
bosom of mother earth. So the insignificant little corpse is handed
over to a coolie, who, for the sum of forty cash, equal to about
five cents, carries it away, ostensibly to throw it into one of these
towers; but if he should not choose to go so far, he gets rid of it
somehow,—no questions are asked, and there are plenty of prowling dogs
ever on the watch seeking what they may devour. To-day several poor
uncoffined mites were lying outside the towers, shrouded only in a
morsel of old matting—apparently they had been brought by some one who
had failed to throw them in at the window ('about twelve feet from the
ground'), in which, by the way, one had stuck fast!
“Some of these poor little creatures are brought here alive and left
to die, and some of these have been rescued and carried to foundling
hospitals. The neighbourhood was so pestiferous that we could only
pause a moment to look at 'an institution' which, although so horrible,
is so characteristic of this race, who pay such unbounded reverence to
the powerful dead who could harm them. Most of the bodies deposited
here are those of girl babies who have been intentionally put to death,
but older children are often thrown in.”
With regard to this, I will only say that I lived all together for
over four years within a mile or so of these Towers, which I frequently
passed during the evening walk; and so far from ever seeing “several
poor uncoffined mites lying outside the towers, shrouded only in a
morsel of old matting,” which Miss Gordon Cumming has described, I
never even saw one single instance of a tower being put to the purpose
for which it was built, viz.: as a burying-place for the dead infants
of people too poor to spend money upon a grave. As for living children
being thrown in, I think I shall be able to dispose of that statement a
little later on. Miss Gordon Cumming did not add that these towers are
cleared out at regular intervals by a Chinese charitable society which
exists for that purpose, the bodies burnt, and the ashes reverently
buried.
Mrs. Bird-Bishop, the traveller, is reported to have stated at a
public lecture in 1897, that “one of the most distressing features of
Chinese life was the contempt for women. Of eleven Bible-women whom she
had seen at a meeting in China, there was not one who had not put an
end to at least five girl-babies.”
A Jesuit missionary has published a quarto volume, running to more
than 270 pages, and containing many illustrations of infanticide, and
the judgments of Heaven which always come upon those who commit this
crime.
Finally, if you ask of any Chinaman, he will infallibly tell you
that infanticide exists to an enormous extent everywhere in China; and
as though in corroboration of his words, alongside many a pool in South
China may be found a stone tablet bearing an inscription to the effect
that “Female children may not be drowned here.” This would appear to
end the discussion; but it does not.
To begin with, the Chinese are very prone to exaggerate, especially
to foreigners, even their vices. They seem to think that some credit
may be extracted from anything, provided it is on a sufficiently
imposing scale, and I do not at all doubt the fact that eleven
Bible-women told Mrs. Bird-Bishop that they had each destroyed five
girl-babies. It is just what I should have expected. I remember, when I
first went to Amoy, it had been stated in print by a reckless foreigner
that crucifixion of a most horrible kind was one of the common
punishments of the place. On enquiring from the Chinese writer attached
to the Consulate, the man assured me that the story was quite true and
that I could easily see for myself. I told him that I was very anxious
to do so, and promised him a hundred dollars for the first case he
might bring to my notice. Three years later I left Amoy, with the
hundred dollars still unclaimed.
Further, those Chinese who have any money to spare are much given to
good works, chiefly, I feel bound to add, in view of the recompense
their descendants will receive in this world and they themselves in the
next; also, because a rich man who does nothing in the way of charity
comes to be regarded with disapprobation by his poorer neighbours. Such
persons print and circulate gratis all kinds of religious tracts,
against gambling, wine-drinking, opium-smoking, infanticide, and so
forth; and these are the persons who set up the stone tablets
above-mentioned, regardless whether infanticide happens to be practised
or not.
Of course infanticide is known in China, just as it is known, too
well known, in England and elsewhere. What I hope to be able to show is
that infanticide is not more prevalent in China than in the Christian
communities of the West.
Let me begin by urging, what no one who has lived in China will
deny, that Chinese parents seem to be excessively fond of all their
children, male and female. A son is often spoken of playfully as a
little dog,—a puppy, in fact; a girl is often spoken of as “a thousand
ounces of gold,” a jewel, and so forth. Sons are no doubt preferred;
but is that feeling peculiar to the Chinese?
A great deal too much has been made of a passage in the Odes,
which says that baby-sons should have sceptres to play with, while
baby-daughters should have tiles.
The allotment of these toys is not quite so disparaging as it seems.
The sceptre is indeed the symbol of rule; but the tile too has an
honourable signification, a tile being used in ancient China as a
weight for the spindle,—and consequently as a symbol of woman's work
in the household.
Then, again, even a girl has a market value. Some will buy and rear
them to be servants; others, to be wives for their sons; while native
foundling hospitals, endowed by charitable Chinese, will actually pay a
small fee for every girl handed over them.
It is also curious to note how recent careful observers have several
times stated that they can find no trace of infanticide in their own
immediate districts, though they hear that it is extensively practised
in some other, generally distant, parts of the country.
After all, it is really a question which can be decided
inferentially by statistics.
Every Chinese youth, when he reaches the age of eighteen, has a
sacred duty to perform: he must marry. Broadly speaking, every adult
Chinaman in the Empire has a wife; well-to-do merchants, mandarins, and
others have subordinate wives, two, three, and even four. The Emperor
has seventy-two. This being the case, and granting also a widespread
destruction of female children, it must follow that girls are born in
an overwhelmingly large proportion to boys, utterly unheard-of in any
other part of the world.
Are, then, Chinese women the down-trodden, degraded creatures we
used to imagine Moslem women to be?
I think this question must be answered in the negative. The young
Chinese woman in a well-to-do establishment is indeed secluded, in the
sense that her circle is limited to the family and to mends of the same
sex.
From time immemorial it has been the rule in China that men and
women should not pass things to one another,—for fear their hands
might touch. A local Pharisee tried to entangle the great Mencius in
his speech, asking him if a man who saw his sister-in-law drowning
might venture to pull her out. “A man,” replied the philosopher, “who
failed to do so, would be no better than a wolf.”
The Chinese lady may go out to pay calls, and even visit temples for
religious purposes, unveiled, veils for women having been abolished in
the first years of the seventh century of our era. Only brides wear
them now.
Girls are finally separated from boys at seven or eight years of
age, when the latter go to school.
Some say that Chinese girls receive no education. If so, what is the
explanation of the large educational literature provided expressly for
girls?
One Chinese authoress, who wrote a work on the education of women,
complains that women can never expect more than ten years for their
education, i.e. the years between childhood and marriage.
The fact is that among the literary classes girls often receive a
fair education, as witness the mass of poetry published by Chinese
women. One of the Dynastic Histories was partly written by a woman. Her
brother, who was engaged on it, died, and she completed his work.
About the year 235 A.D., women were actually admitted to official
life, and some of them rose to important government posts. By the
eighth century, however, all trace of this system had disappeared.
The women of the poorer classes are not educated at all; nor indeed
are the men. Both sexes have to work as burden-carriers and field
labourers; and of course in such cases the restrictions mentioned above
cannot be rigorously enforced.
Women of the shopkeeper class often display great aptitude for
business, and render invaluable assistance to their husbands. As in
France, they usually keep the cash-box.
A mandarin's seal of office is his most important possession. If he
loses it, he may lose his post. Without the seal, nothing can be done;
with it, everything. Extraordinary precautions are taken when
transmitting new seals from Peking to the provinces. Every official
seal is made with four small feet projecting from the four corners of
its face, making it look like a small table. Of these, the maker breaks
off one when he hands the seal over to the Board. Before forwarding to
the Viceroy of the province, another foot is removed by the Board. A
third is similarly disposed of by the Viceroy, and the last by the
official for whose use it is intended. This is to prevent its
employment by any other than the person authorised. The seal is then
handed over to the mandarin's wife, in whose charge it always remains,
she alone having the power to produce it, or withhold it, as required.
A Chinese woman shares the titles accorded to her husband. When the
latter is promoted, the title of the wife is correspondingly advanced.
She also shares all posthumous honours, and her spirit, equally with
her husband's, is soothed by the ceremonies of ancestral worship.
“Ancestral worship” is a phrase of ominous import, suggesting as it
does the famous dispute which began to rage early in the eighteenth
century and is still raging to-day.
In every Chinese house stand small wooden tablets, bearing the names
of deceased parents, grandparents, and earlier ancestors. Plates of
meat and cups of wine are on certain occasions set before these
tablets, in the belief that the spirits of the dead occupy the tablets
and enjoy the offerings. The latter are afterward eaten by the family;
but pious Chinese assert that the flavour of the food and wine has been
abstracted. Similar offerings are made once a year at the tombs where
the family ancestors lie buried.
The question now arises, Are these offerings set forth in the same
spirit which prompts us to place flowers on graves, adorn statues, and
hold memorial services?
If so, a Chinese convert to Christianity may well be permitted to
embody these old observances with the ceremonial of his new faith.
Or do these observances really constitute worship? i.e. are
the offerings made with a view to propitiate the spirits of the dead,
and obtain from them increase of worldly prosperity and happiness?
In the latter case, ministers of the Christian faith would of course
be justified in refusing to blend ancestral worship with the teachings
of Christianity.
It would no doubt be very desirable to bring about a compromise, and
discover some modus vivendi for the Chinese convert, other than
that of throwing over Confucianism with all its influence for good, and
of severing all family and social ties, and beginning life again as an
outcast in his own country; but I feel bound to say that in my opinion
these ancestral observances can only be regarded, strictly speaking, as
worship and as nothing else.
To return to the Chinese woman. She enjoys some privileges not
shared by men. She is exempt from the punishment of the bamboo, and, as
a party to a case, is always more or less a source of anxiety to the
presiding magistrate. No Chinaman will enter into a dispute with a
woman if he can help it,—not from any chivalrous feeling, but from a
conviction that he will surely be worsted in the end.
If she becomes a widow, a Chinese woman is not supposed to marry
again, though in practice she very often does so. A widow who remains
unmarried for thirty years may be recommended to the Throne for some
mark of favour, such as an honorary tablet, or an ornamental archway,
to be put up near her home. It is essential, however, that her
widowhood should have begun before she was thirty years of age.
Remarriage is viewed by many widows with horror. In my own family I
once employed a nurse—herself one of seven sisters—who was a widow,
and who had also lost half the little finger of her left hand. The
connecting link between these two details is not so apparent to us as
it might be to the Chinese. After her husband's death the widow decided
that she would never marry again, and in order to seal irrevocably her
vow, she seized a meat-chopper and lopped off half her finger on the
spot. The finger-top was placed in her husband's coffin, and the lid
was closed.
This woman, who was a Christian, and the widow of a native preacher,
had large, i.e. unbound, feet. Nevertheless, she bound the feet
of her only daughter, because, as she explained, it is so difficult to
get a girl married unless she has small feet.
Here we have the real obstacle to the abolition of this horrible
custom, which vast numbers of intelligent Chinese would be only too
glad to get rid of, if fashion did not stand in the way.
There has been in existence now for some years a well-meaning
association, known as the Natural Foot Society, supported by both
Chinese and foreigners, with the avowed object of putting an end to the
practice of foot-binding. We hear favourable accounts of its progress;
but until there is something like a national movement, it will not do
to be too sanguine.
We must remember that in 1664 one of China's wisest and greatest
Emperors, in the plenitude of his power issued an Imperial edict
forbidding parents in future to bind the feet of their girls. Four
years later the edict was withdrawn.
The Emperor was K'ang Hsi, whose name you have already heard in
connection with the standard dictionary of the Chinese language and
other works brought out under his patronage. A Tartar himself,
unaccustomed to the sight of Tartar women struggling in such fetters,
he had no sympathy with the custom; but against the Chinese people,
banded together to safeguard their liberty of action in a purely
domestic matter, he was quite unable to prevail.
Within the last few weeks another edict has gone forth, directed
against the practice of foot-binding. Let us hope it will have a better
fate.
Many years ago the prefect of T'ai-wan Fu said to me, in the course
of an informal conversation after a friendly dinner, “Do you foreigners
fear the inner ones?”—and on my asking what was meant, he told me that
a great many Chinese stood in absolute awe of their wives. “He
does,” added the prefect, pointing to the district magistrate, a rather
truculent-looking individual, who was at the dinner-party; and the
other guests went into a roar of laughter.
The general statement by the prefect is borne out by the fact that
the “henpecked husband” is constantly held up to ridicule in humorous
literature, which would be quite impossible if there were no foundation
of fact.
I have translated one of these stories, trivial enough in itself,
but, like the proverbial straw, well adapted for showing which way the
wind blows. Here it is:—
Ten henpecked husbands agreed to form themselves into a society for
resisting the oppression of their wives. At the first meeting they were
sitting talking over their pipes, when suddenly the ten wives, who had
got wind of the movement, appeared on the scene.
There was a general stampede, and nine of the husbands incontinently
bolted through another door, only one remaining unmoved to face the
music. The ladies merely smiled contemptuously at the success of their
raid, and went away.
The nine husbands them all agreed that the bold tenth man, who had
not run away, should be at once appointed their president; but on
coming to offer him the post, they found that he had died of fright!
To judge by the following story, the Chinese woman's patience is
sometimes put to a severe test.
A scholar of old was so absent-minded, that on one occasion, when he
was changing houses, he forgot to take his wife. This was reported to
Confucius as a most unworthy act. “Nay,” replied the Master, “it is
indeed bad to forget one's wife; but 'tis worse to forget one's self!”
Points of this kind are, no doubt, trivial, as I have said above,
and may be regarded by many even as flippant; but the fact is that a
successful study of the Chinese people cannot possibly be confined to
their classics and higher literature, and to the problem of their
origin and subsequent development where we now find them. It must
embrace the lesser, not to say meaner, details of their everyday life,
if we are ever to pierce the mystery which still to a great extent
surrounds them.
In this sense an Italian student of Chinese, Baron Vitale, has gone
so far as to put together and publish a collection of Chinese nursery
rhymes, from which it is not difficult to infer that Chinese babies are
very much as other babies are in other parts of the world.
And it has always seemed to me that the Chinese baby's father and
mother, so far as the ordinary springs of action go, are very much of a
pattern with the rest of mankind.
One reason why the Chinaman remains a mystery to so many is due, no
doubt, to the vast amount of nonsense which is published about him.
First of all, China is a very large country, and from want of proper
means of communication for many centuries, there has been nothing like
extensive intercourse between North, South, East, West, and Central. Of
course the officials visit all parts of the Empire, as they are
transferred from post to post; but the bulk of the people never get far
beyond the range of their own district city.
The consequence is that as regards manners and customs, while
retaining an indelible national imprint, the Chinese people have
drifted apart into separate local communities; so that what is true of
one part of the country is by no means necessarily true of another.
The Chinese themselves say that manners, which they think are due to
climatic influences, change every thirty miles; customs, which they
attribute to local idiosyncrasies, change every three hundred miles.
Now, a globe-trotter goes to Canton, and as one of the sights of
that huge collection of human beings, he is taken to shops,—there used
to be three,—where the flesh of dogs, fed for the purpose, is sold as
food.
He comes home, and writes a book, and says that the Chinese people
live on dogs' flesh.
When I was a boy, I thought that every Frenchman had a frog for
breakfast. Each statement would be about equally true. In the north of
China, dogs' flesh is unknown; and even in the south, during all my
years in China I never succeeded in finding any Chinaman who either
could, or would, admit that he had actually tasted it.
Take the random statement that any rich man condemned to death can
procure a substitute by payment of so much. So long as we believe stuff
of that kind, so long will the Chinese remain a mystery for us, it
being difficult to deduce true conclusions from false premises.
As a matter of fact, that is, so far as my own observations go, the
Chinese people value life every whit as highly as we do, and a
substitute of the kind would be quite unprocurable under ordinary
circumstances. It is thinkable that some poor wretch, himself under
sentence of death, might be substituted with the connivance of the
officials, to hoodwink foreigners; but even then the difficulties would
be so great as to render the scheme almost impracticable.
For in China everything leaks out. There is none of that secrecy
necessary to conceal and carry out such a plot.
At any rate, the uncertainty which gathers around many of these
points emphasises the necessity of more and more accurate scholarship
in Chinese, and more and more accurate information on the people of
China and their ways.
How the latter article is supplied to us in England, you may judge
from some extracts which I have recently taken from respectable daily
and weekly newspapers.
For instance, “China has only one hundred physicians to a population
of four hundred millions.”
To me it is inconceivable how such rubbish can be printed,
especially when it is quite easy to find out that there is no medical
diploma in China, and that any man who chooses is free to set up as a
doctor.
By a pleasant fiction, he charges no fees; a fixed sum, however, is
paid to him for each visit, as “horse-money,”—I need hardly add, in
advance.
There are, as with us, many successful, and consequently
fashionable, doctors whose “horse-money” runs well into double figures.
Their success must be due more to good luck and strictly innocent
prescriptions than to any guidance they can find in the extensive
medical literature of China.
All together, medicine is a somewhat risky profession, as failure to
cure is occasionally resented by surviving relatives.
There is a story of a doctor who had mismanaged a case, and was
seized by the patient's family and tied up. In the night he managed to
free himself, and escaped by swimming across a river. When he got home,
he found his son, who had just begun to study medicine, and he said to
him, “Don't be in a hurry with your books; the first and most important
thing is to learn to swim!”
Here is another newspaper gem: “In China, the land of opposites, the
dials of the clocks are made to turn round, while the hands stand
still.”
Personally, I never noticed this arrangement.
Again: “Some of the tops with which the Chinese amuse themselves are
as large as barrels. It takes three men to spin one, and it gives off a
sound that may be heard several hundred yards away.”
“The Chinese National Anthem is so long that it takes half a day to
sing it.”
“Chinese women devote very little superfluous time to hair-dressing.
Their tresses are arranged once a month, and they sleep with their
heads in boxes.”
What we want in place of all this is a serious and systematic
examination of the manners and customs, and modes of thought, of the
Chinese people.
Their long line of Dynastic Histories must be explored and their
literature ransacked by students who have got through the early years
of drudgery inseparable from the peculiar nature of the written
language, and who are prepared to devote themselves, not, as we do now,
to a general knowledge of the whole, but to a thorough acquaintance
with some particular branch.
The immediate advantages of such a course, as I must point out once
more, for the last time, to commerce and to diplomatic relations will
be incalculable. And they will be shared in by the student of history,
philosophy, and religion, who will then for the first time be able to
assign to China her proper place in the family of nations.
The founder of this Chinese Chair has placed these advantages within
the grasp of Columbia University.
INDEX
INDEX
Account of Strange Nations, book in Cambridge collection,
58.
Albinos, Chinese, 181.
Alchemy, Taoist practice, 166-168.
Analects, Confucian Canon, 42.
Ancestral worship, China, 199-201.
Ancestry of Chinese traced through mother in ancient times, 27.
Ancient Greece, see Greece.
“And,” idea in Chinese written character, 28.
Archaeology—
Chinese dictionaries and work, 120.
Confucian Canon, archaeological works referring to, 43.
“Ark,” erroneous analysis of Chinese written character, 34.
Athenian and Chinese women, points of resemblance, 121.
Baby Towers, Chinese infanticide, 190-192.
Bactria—
Alchemy, practice imported into China, 166
Mission of Chang Ch'ien, 130-131
Bamboo tables, style of Chinese writing, 26
Biographies—
Historical Record, 46-47.
National and private records, 49-50.
Biographies of Eminent Women, description, 50.
Bird-Bishop, Mrs., statement as to infanticide, 192, 193.
Black art, Taoism, 168-170.
Black-haired People, title of Chinese, 181.
Book of Changes, Confucian Canon, 40.
Book of History, Confucian Canon, 41.
Book of Odes, see Odes.
Book of Music, Confucian Canon, 42.
Books of Rites, Confucian Canon, 42.
Books, Chinese, see Library, Cambridge University.
Buddhism in China—
Borrowing from Tao, 172.
Buddhist priest anecdote, 138.
Cambridge collection, Buddhist works, 44.
Date of appearance, 171, 172.
Struggle with Taoism, 172.
Burning of the Books, 44, 129.
Butchers, tax on, resisted, 93-95.
Calendars, Greek and Chinese, similarities, 129.
Cambridge University library, see Library.
Canon, see Confucian Canon.
Canton—
Dogs' flesh shops, 207.
Riot, 1880, 99-101.
Catalogue of books in Imperial Library, China, 69-70.
Ceremonies, valued by Confucius, 182.
Chamberlain, J., eyeglass remarked on by Li Hung-chang, 182-183.
Chang Ch'ien, mission to Bactria, 130-131.
Chang Chih-tung, viceroy, bridge incident, 97.
Changes, Book of, Confucian Canon, 40.
Charities, Chinese, 193-194.
Characters of Chinese language, see Language.
Ch'ien Lung, Emperor, catalogue enterprise, 69.
Children—
Fondness of parents for, 194.
Girls, see that title.
Infanticide, see that title.
Nursery rhymes published by Baron Vitale, 206.
Toys, passage in the Odes, 195.
China—
Albinos, 181.
Alchemy, 166-168.
Ancestral worship, 199-201.
Ancestry traced through mother in ancient times, 27.
Anecdote, Grecian, in Chinese jest-book, 138.
Archaeology, see that title.
Bactria, see that title.
Biographies, see that title.
Black art, 168-170.
Buddhism, see that title.
Burning of the Books, 44, 129.
Calendars, Grecian characteristics, 129.
Cambridge University library, see Library.
Canton, see that title.
Chang Ch'ien, mission to Bactria, 130-131.
Charities, 193-194.
Children, see that title.
City sights resembling Grecian, 122-124.
Clocks, see that title.
Columbia University, endowment of Chinese chair, 4, 37, 211.
Combination, 92.
Confucius and Confucian Canon, see those titles.
Counting board, likeness to Grecian, 128.
Crucifixion, alleged punishment, 193.
“Crying one's wrongs,” 101-102.
Customs varying with places, 207.
Dictionaries, see that title.
Diplomatists, see Statesmen.
Doctors, “horse-money,” etc., 209-210.
Dogs' flesh, Canton shops, 207.
Drama, see Plays.
Dress, see that title.
Dutch settlement, story of, 137.
Dynasties and Dynastic histories, see those titles.
Education, see that title.
Elixir of life, 163-170.
Emperors, see that title.
Encyclopaedias, see that title.
Entertainments, Grecian points of contact, 126.
Erroneous ideas of Chinese life, 189-210.
Etiquette, see that title.
Exaggeration, fault of Chinese, 193.
Execution substitutes, erroneous idea, 208.
Eyeglasses, see that title.
Facial differences of Chinese, 177.
First impressions of foreigners, 177.
Foot-binding, see that title.
Games, Grecian similarities, 126.
Girls, see that title.
Government, see that title.
Greek influence, see Greece.
Guests, see Visitors.
Hair, see that title.
Han Yue, great works of, 117.
Hankow military riot, 1882, 97.
“Heavenly horse", 131-133.
“Henpecked husbands", 204.
History, see that title.
Horses, see that title.
House, Greek characteristics, 120-121.
Huai-nan, Prince of, see that title.
Immortality, see that title.
Infanticide, see that title.
Ivory carvings, Grecian resemblances, 124-125.
Jesuits in China, see that title.
Jews, 144.
Jugglers similar to Grecian, 124.
Justice, see that title.
K'ang Hsi, Emperor, see that title.
Kiangsu riot, 99.
Language, see that title.
Lao Tzu, see Taoism.
Library, Cambridge University, see that title.
Library, Imperial, catalogue, 69-70.
Li Hung-chang, see that title.
“Lion,” word for, 23, 133.
Literary qualities of nation, 72.
Literature, see that title.
Magic, see that title.
Magistrates, see that title.
Mahommedanism, 143.
Manchus, imprisonment, 1891, people's fury, 98.
Mandarin language and Mandarins, see those titles.
Manichaeans, 144.
Marriage customs, see that title.
Mencius, see that title.
Mental and moral training, relative values of Greek and
Chinese,
109-119.
Mirrors, ancient Chinese and Greek, 132-133.
Murder, conviction for, illustrations, 103-106.
Music, see that title.
Mystery—the Chinaman a mystery, 206, 208.
Nestorian Christians, 143.
Newspaper extracts, 209-210.
Novels, 61-62.
Official coats, “horse-shoe sleeves,” 179.
Official positions, see that title.
Olive, Greek and Chinese associations, 128.
Opposites—China regarded as land of opposites, 119, 210.
Penal code, 56, 87-88.
Personal freedom, 87-88.
Plays, see that title.
Poetry, see that title.
Population, vastness of, 3.
Portrait-painting, see that title.
Protestant missionaries, 144.
Puppet shows, alleged origin, 123.
Quails, fighting, common custom in Greece and China, 126.
Queue see that title.
Readers, professional, 61.
Religions, see that title.
Rhyme, 67-68.
Riots—people's self-government, 97-101.
Rip Van Winkle, story of, 55.
Roman Catholicism, 144.
Romance of Three Kingdoms, novel, 61-62.
Self-government, illustrations, 69-106.
Self-taxation, see Taxation.
Senior Classics see that title.
Social life, knowledge of, 181-182.
Spanish seizure of islands, method of, 136.
Statesmen, see that title.
Statutes of present dynasty, 56.
Story-tellers, 61, 123.
Street etiquette and rights, 183-186.
Study of Chinese affairs—
Advantages of study, 140, 211.
Columbia University endowment, 4, 37, 211.
Language, see that title.
People, study of, 205-206.
Recent growth of study, 3.
Students needed, 139, 208, 211.
Taoism, see that title.
Taxation see that title.
Viceroys, 76, 82, 83.
Visitors, see that title.
Water-clocks, Grecian, 128.
Watermelon, term for, Greek origin, 134.
Wen T'ien-hsiang, influence of Chinese literature and training
on,
113-116.
Western incidents in literature, 135-139.
Widows, 201-202.
Wine, introduction of grape-wine, 131.
Wine-drinking, see that title.
Women, see that title.
Wuchang bridge incident, 97.
Zebra, picture of, in ancient Chinese book, 59.
Zoroastrians in, 144.
Christians, Nestorian, in China, 143.
Christianity and ancestral worship in China, 109-201.
Chuang Tzu, Taoist writer, 148, 154-160, 165, 171.
Chu Hsi, commentary, 43.
Chung-king, tax on pigs resisted, 93-95.
Circuits, division of provinces into, 76, 83.
Classics, study of, relative values of Chinese and Greek training,
109-119.
Clocks, Chinese—
Newspaper extract, 210.
Water-clocks, Grecian and Chinese, 128.
Coats, official, “horse-shoe sleeves,” 179.
Colloquial language, see Language.
Columbia University, endowment of Chinese chair, 4, 37, 211.
Combination against taxation, 92.
Commentaries, Confucian Canon, 43.
Commissioners, provincial government, 81.
Concordance to phraseology of Chinese literature, 65-69.
Confucian Canon, Cambridge University Library—
Analects, 42.
Archaeological works, 43.
Book of Changes, 40.
Book of History, 41.
Book of Music, 42.
Book of Odes, see Odes.
Book of Rites, 42.
Commentaries, 43.
Conversations of Mencius with disciples, 42.
Doctrine of the Mean, 42.
Five Classics, 40-42.
Four Books, 42.
Great Learning, 42.
Spring and Autumn, 41.
Confucius—
Acquaintance with Lao Tzu alleged, 146-147.
Confucian Canon, see that title.
Maxims and sayings, 182, 205.
Unwelcome visitor anecdote, 185.
Value of ceremonial, 182.
Counting-board, Chinese, likeness to Grecian, 128.
Crucifixion, alleged punishment in China, 193.
“Crying one's wrongs,” 101-102.
Cumming, Miss G.—infanticide in China, 189-192.
Dialects, Chinese language, 6-10.
Dice games in Greece and China, 126.
Dictionaries, Chinese—
Cambridge library collection—
Concordance to phraseology, 65-69.
Hsue Shen, work of, 63-64.
Modern standard dictionary, 64-65.
Encyclopaedias, see that title.
Lao Tzu's treatise, characters not found in dictionary,
149-150.
Dinner, invitation to, 188.
Diplomatists, see Statesmen.
Doctors, Chinese, “horse-money,” etc., 209-210.
Doctrine of the Mean, Confucian Canon, 42.
Doctrines, see Religions.
Dogs' flesh, Canton shops, 207.
Drama, see Plays.
Drawing, chapters on, in Chinese encyclopaedia, 53.
Dress, Chinese—
Official coats, 179.
Veils for women, abolition of, 197.
Dress, Japanese, misconception as to, 178.
Dutch settlement in China, story of, 137.
Dyeing the hair, practice of, 180.
Dynastic histories—
Cambridge collection—
Biographies, see that title.
Edition of 1747, 45.
Encyclopaedias, see that title.
Historical Record, see that title.
Mirror of History, by Tsuma Kuang.
Penal Code, 56.
Record in Dark Blood, 57.
Reprints, 55.
Statutes of present dynasty, 56.
“Veritable Record", 48.
Woman's work, 197.
Dynasties of China—
Histories, see Dynastic histories.
History compilation custom, 47.
Ming dynasty, see that title.
Statutes of present dynasty, 56.
Education—
Value of, 72, 79
Women, 197-198.
Elixir of life, Taoist doctrine, 163, 170.
Emperors of China—
Ch'ien Lung, catalogue enterprise, 69.
Government of the Emperor, 75.
K'ang Hsi, see that title.
Ming dynasty, character and end of last Emperor, 117-119.
Encyclopaedias, Cambridge collection, 51-54.
Arrangement, 54.
Drawing, chapters on, 53.
Portrait-painting topic, 53.
San T'sai Tu Hui, 52-53.
[See also Dictionaries.]
England, Cambridge University library, see Library.
English—“pidgin” English, 17.
Entertainments, Chinese and Grecian, 126-127.
Etiquette—
Glasses, removal when conversing, 183.
Street etiquette, 183-186.
Visitors, see that title.
Exaggeration, Chinese, 193.
Execution substitutes, erroneous idea, 208.
Eyeglasses—
Chamberlain's, J., remarks by Li Hung-chang, 182-183.
Chinese etiquette, removal of spectacles, 183.
Family Library, Chinese reprints.
Fay, Miss, student of Chinese, 6.
Fielde, Miss, student of Chinese, 6.
Finance commissioner, provincial official, 81.
Five Classics, Confucian Canon, 40-42.
Foot-binding—
Edicts prohibiting, 203.
Fashion, obstacle to abolition, 202.
Fulangbis, seizure of islands from China, 136.
Fusang, account of, in Chinese book, 58.
Games, Chinese, similarity to Grecian, 126.
Geography, Chinese, Cambridge collection, 57.
Girls—
Education, 197.
Foot-binding, see that title.
Market value, 195.
[See also Women]
Glasses, see Eyeglasses.
“God,” analysis of Chinese written character, 33.
Government—
Circuits, 76, 83.
“Crying one's wrongs,” 101-103.
Dynasties, see that title.
Emperors, see that title.
Headboroughs, 77-78.
Justice, see that title.
Magistrates, see that title.
Mandarins, see that title.
Mencius, quotations from, 84-87.
Ming dynasty, see that title.
Official positions, see that title.
Penal Code, 56, 87-88.
Prefectures, 76, 83.
Provincial government, see that title.
Scale of governors, 78.
Self-government illustrations, 96-106.
Viceroys, 76, 82, 83.
Governors of provinces, 76, 83.
Grain commissioner, provincial official, 81.
Granville, Lord, influence of the classics on, 112.
Grammar, Chinese, absence of, 10.
Grape-wine introduced into China, 131.
Great Learning, Confucian Canon, 42.
Greece, ancient Greece and China—
Archaeology, Greek and Chinese, 120.
Bactria, see that title.
Buddhist priest anecdote in Chinese jest-book, 188.
Calendars, 129.
City sights in China, 123-124.
Classics, relative values of Chinese and Greek training,
109-119.
Coincidences between Chinese and Greek civilisations, 120-139.
Counting-board, 128.
Entertainments, 126-127.
Games, 126.
“Heavenly horse,” 131, 133.
House, Chinese, Greek characteristics, 120-131.
Ivory carvings, 124-125.
Language, terms of abuse, 124.
Literatures of China and western nations, analogies, 135-139.
Marriage, similar customs, 122.
Mirrors, 132-133.
Music, 129.
Olives, 128.
Plays, 125-126.
Quails, fighting, 126.
Question of Greek influence, 130-133.
Water-clock, 128.
Wine-drinking, 126-127.
Women, points of resemblance, 121-122.
Words, Chinese, Greek origin, 133-135.
“Guess-fingers,” game of, common to Greece and China, 126.
Guests, see Visitors.
Hair—
Black-haired People, title of Chinese, 181.
Dyeing, 180.
False hair, 180.
Queue, see that title.
Han Fei Tzu, writer on Taoism, 148.
Hangchow tea strike, 95.
Hankow military riot, 1882, 97.
Han Yue, statesman, great works of, 117.
Headboroughs, government of Chinese boroughs, 77-78.
“Heavenly horse,” origin of, 131, 133.
Hebrews in China, 144.
“Henpecked husbands,” 204.
Historical Record—
Alchemy, 166.
Sketch of contents, 45-47.
History—
B.C., 130.
Book of History, Confucian Canon, 41.
Dynastic histories, see that title.
Mirror of History, 49.
Holland—story of Dutch settlement in China, 137.
“Horse-money,” Chinese doctors' fees, 209.
Horses—
“Heavenly horse,” 131, 133.
Official coats, “horse-shoe sleeves,” 179.
Respect for, origin of queue, 179.
House, Chinese, Greek characteristics, 120-121.
Hsue Shen dictionary, 63-64.
Huai-nan, Prince of—
Discovery of elixir of life, 168.
Taoist writings, 149.
Husbands, “henpecked,” 204.
Immortality, Taoist doctrine—
Elixir of life, 163-170.
Memorial of aggrieved Confucianist, 170.
Pills of immortality concocted, effect of, 167.
Imperial Library catalogue, 69-70.
Imperial statutes, present Chinese dynasty, 56.
Inaction, doctrine of, Lao Tzu's philosophy, 152, 156.
Infanticide—
Baby Towers, 190-192.
Bird-Bishop, Mrs., statement of, 192,193.
Chinese exaggeration, 192-193.
Cumming, Miss G., writings of, 189-192.
Drowning children in pools, 192-193.
Jesuit writings, illustrations, 192.
Market value of girls, 195.
Negative argument, 193-195.
[See also Children.]
Intendant of circuit, official, 76, 83.
Invitation to dinner, 188.
Ivory carvings, Greek and Chinese, 124-125.
Japan—
Dress, misconception as to, 178.
Language, absence of terms of abuse, 124.
Jebb, Sir K., influence of the classics in mental training, case
of
Lord Granville, 109-113.
Jesuits in China—
Infanticide illustrations in writings, 192.
Music of Greeks borrowed from Chinese, alleged, 129.
Translation of Chinese character into “ark,” 34.
Jews in China, 144.
Jugglers, Chinese and Grecian, 124.
Justice—
Administration of, 102-104.
Commissioner of, 81.
K'ang Hsi, Emperor—
Dictionary and phrase-concordance ordered, 64, 65.
Foot-binding prohibited by, 203.
Kiangsu riot, 99.
Language, Chinese—
Colloquial—
Coupling of words, 20.
Dialects, number and distinction of, 6-10.
Lack of vocables, 17-21.
Mandarin, see that title.
Monosyllables, incapable of inflection, 10-17.
Rhyme, 67-68.
Simpleness of study, 4-5.
Suffixes, 21.
Tenses, 13-15.
Tones, see that title.
Dialects, number and distinction of, 6-10.
Dictionaries, see that title.
Grammar, absence of, 10.
Greek words, 133-135.
“Lion,” word for, 23,133.
Mandarin language, see that title.
“Pidgin” English, 17.
Study of—
Advantages and objects of study, 107.
Relative values of Chinese and Greek, 109.
Students of Chinese wanted, 139.
Women students—Misses Fay and Fielde, 6.
Terms of abuse, 124.
Tones, see that title.
Written—
Bamboo tablets, 26.
Conjunction “and,” 28.
Difficulty of study, 5-6.
Errors in analysis of words, 33-35.
Non-application of rule in cases, 32.
Number of words, 18, 19.
Origin and development, 25-32.
Paper, invention of, 26.
Parts of written characters, 22-28.
Phonetic basis and indicator, 29-36.
Hsue Shen dictionary, 63-64.
Modern standard dictionary, 64-65.
Pictures of words and ideas, 25-28.
Uniformity all over China, 22.
Language, Japanese, absence of terms of abuse, 124.
Lao Tzu, see Taoism.
Library, Cambridge University, collection of Chinese books—
Account of strange nations, 58.
Binding of volumes, etc., 40.
Biographies, see that title.
Buddhist works, 44.
Catalogue of Imperial Chinese Library, 69-70.
Collection of the books, 39.
Concordance to phraseology of all literature, 65-69.
Confucian Canon, see that title.
Dictionaries, see that title.
Division A, 40-44.
Division B, 45-57.
Division C, 47-60.
Division D, 60-63.
Division E, 63.
Dynastic histories, see that title.
Encyclopaedias, see that title.
Geography of the Empire, 57.
Historical collection, see Dynastic histories.
Illustrated books—notices of Senior Classics of Ming dynasty,
70-71.
Novels, 61-62.
Number of volumes, 40.
Oldest printed book in the library, 58.
Plays, 62-63.
Poetry, 60.
Reference works, 63.
Reprints, 55.
T'ai-p'ing rebels, pamphlets, 56.
Taoist writings, 44.
Topographies, 57-30.
Library, Imperial, China, catalogue, 69-70.
Life, elixir of, Taoist doctrine, 163-170.
Li Hung-chang—
Diplomatic abilities, 112.
Remark on Mr. Chamberlain's eyeglass, 182-183.
Likin, self-taxation of Chinese, 89-90.
“Lion,” Chinese word for, 23, 133.
Literary qualities of Chinese nation, 72.
Literature, Chinese—
Cambridge University library, see Library.
Concordance to phraseology, 65-69.
Relative values of Chinese and Greek in mental and moral
training,
109-119.
Western incidents in, 133-139.
Liu Hsiang, Biographies of Eminent Women, 50.
Luzon (Philippines), Spanish seizure, 136.
Magic—
Jugglers, Chinese and Grecian, 124.
Taoist black art, 168-170.
Magistrates—
Advancement in ranks, 78.
Deputy official, test of, 79-80.
Division of prefectures into magistracies, 76.
Duties, 80.
Expenses of education no obstacle, 79.
Income, 82-83.
Law experts in offices, 56.
Real rulers of China, 78.
Mahommedanism in China, 143.
Manchus, imprisonment, 1891, people's fury, 98.
Mandarin language—
Importance of “official language,” 7-10.
Sounds for conveyance of speech, lack of, 17-21.
Study of, 10-21.
[See also Language.]
Mandarins—
Meeting in street, 186.
Seal of office, 198-199.
Manichaeans in China, 144.
Marriage customs—
Grecian customs, similarity of, 122.
Widows, 201-202.
Wives, number of, 196.
Mencius—
Attacks on heterodox systems, 147.
Conversations with disciples, book of Confucian Canon, 42.
Lao Tzu, no allusion to, in writings, 147.
Quotations from, 84-87, 196-197.
Ming dynasty—
Emperor, character and end of last Emperor, 117-119.
History, quotations, 136.
Overthrow, 118-119.
Senior Classics, illustrated books, 70-71.
Mirror of History, by Ssu-ma Kuang, 49.
Mirrors, ancient Chinese and Greek, 132-133.
Missionaries, Protestant, in China, 144.
Monosyllables, Chinese language, incapable of inflection, 10-17.
Murder, conviction for, illustrations, 103-106.
Music—
Book of Music, Confucian Canon, 42.
Burning of the Books, music destroyed, 129.
Greek characteristics, 129.
Nestorian Christians in China, 143.
Netherlands—story of Dutch settlement in China, 137.
Novels, Chinese, 61-62.
Odes, Book of, Confucian Canon, 41.
Mirrors mentioned in, 132.
Standard of rhyme, 67.
Toys of boy and girl babies, 195.
Official coats, “horse-shoe sleeves,” 179.
Official positions in China—
Law experts in offices of judge of criminal cases, 56.
Senior Classics, see that title.
Value of, 72.
Women once admitted to, 198.
[See also Government.]
Olives, Greek and Chinese associations, 128.
Opposites, China regarded as land of, 119, 210.
Painting the face, custom of Chinese and Grecian women, 122.
Pakhoi, opium tax resisted, 95-96.
Paper, invention of, effect on style of Chinese writing, 26.
Pegasus—Chinese “heavenly horse” compared, 133.
Peking, dialect of, standard Mandarin, 8.
Penal Code, Chinese, 56, 87-88.
Persia—“heavenly horse” in China, 131,133.
Philippines, Spanish seizure from China, 136.
Phonetic basis and indicator, see Language—Written.
Phraseology concordance, Chinese, 65-69.
“Pidgin” English, 17.
Pigs, tax on, resisted, 93-95.
Pills of immortality, concoction and effect of, 107.
Plays—
Editions of, 62-33.
Grecian similarities, 125-126.
Poetry—
Cambridge collection, 60.
Taoist poet, quotations from, 160-163.
Women writers, 60, 197.
Population, Chinese, vastness of, 3.
Portrait-painting, Chinese—
Encyclopaedia topic, 53.
Story, 53.
Prefectures, division of circuits, 76, 83.
Priest, Buddhist priest anecdote, 138.
Prince Huai-nan, see Huai-nan.
Protestant missionaries in China, 144.
Provincial government—
Division of provinces, 76, 78.
Governors, 76, 83.
Officials, commissioners, etc., 81-82.
Viceroys, 76, 82, 83.
Puppet-shows, China, alleged origin of, 123.
Pythagorean and Chinese systems of music, similarity of, 129.
Quails, fighting, Grecian and Chinese custom, 126.
Queue—
False hair, 180.
Tartars, fight against queue, 179.
Theories as to origin, 178-179.
Readers, professional, Chinese, 61.
Record in Dark Blood, historical section, Cambridge, 57.
Relativity, doctrine of, Lao Tzu's teachings, 156.
Religions—
Buddhism, see that title.
Classification—Three Doctrines, 143, 145.
Confucian Canon, see that title.
Jews, 144.
Lao Tzu, see Taoism.
Mahommedanism, 143.
Manichaeans, 144.
Nestorian Christians, 143.
Protestant missionaries, 144.
Roman Catholicism, 144.
Taoism, see that title.
Zoroastrians, 144.
Reprints, Chinese—
Cambridge collection, 55.
Family Library, 55.
Rhyme, Chinese, 67-68.
Riots, Chinese, people's self-government, 97-101.
Rip Van Winkle, Chinese, story of, 55.
Rites, Book of, Confucian Canon, 42.
Roman Catholicism in China, 144.
Roman classics, relative values of Chinese and Greek training,
109-110.
Romance of Three Kingdoms, novel, 61-62.
Salt commissioner, provincial official, 81.
Sanskrit, introduction of, 110.
San Ts'ai T'u Hui encyclopaedia, 52-53.
Seal of office of mandarin, 198-199.
Self-government illustrations, 96-106.
Self-taxation, see Taxation.
Senior Classics—
Honours of, 72.
Illustrated book in Cambridge collection, 70-71.
Shopkeepers, women's business ability, 198.
Smith, Rev. Dr. A., statement as to prejudice against
Christianity,
181.
Social life, knowledge of, necessary to foreigner in China,
181-182.
Spanish seizure of islands from China, 136.
Spectacles, see Eyeglasses.
Speech, Chinese, see Language.
Spring and Autumn, Confucian Canon, 41.
Ssu-k'ung T'u, Taoist poet, quotations from, 160-163.
Ssu-ma Ch'ien—
Historical Record, 45-47.
Memoir of Lao Tzu, 149.
Ssu-ma Kuang, author of The Mirror of History, 48-49.
Statesmen—
Chang Ch'ien, mission to Bactria, 130-131.
Compared with men from other countries, 112.
Han Yue, great works of, 117.
Li Hung-chang, see that title.
Wen T'ien-hsiang, influence of Chinese literature on, 113-116.
Statutes, present Chinese dynasty, 56.
Story-tellers in Chinese towns, 61, 123.
Street etiquette and rights, 183-186.
Strikes—tea strike, Hangchow, 95.
Study of Chinese affairs, see China.
Suffixes, Chinese language, 21.
T'ai-p'ing rebels, pamphlets of, 56.
Taoism—
Alchemy, 166-168.
Black art, 186-170.
Borrowing from Buddhists, 172.
Cambridge Library, collection of writings, 44.
Chuang Tzu, writer on Taoism, 148, 154-160, 165, 171.
Corruption of the Tao, 171-173
Decline, 163.
Elixir of life, 163-170.
Genuineness of Tao-Te-Ching, evidences against, 146-151.
Han Fei Tzu, writer on Taoism, 148.
Huai-nan Tzu, writer on Taoism, 149.
Immortality, see that title.
Inaction doctrine, 152, 156.
Last state, 143.
Legends of Lao Tzu, 145-146.
Philosophy of, 151-163, 182.
Poet, quotations from, 160-163.
Relativity doctrine, 156.
Struggle with Buddhists, 172.
Tao-t'ai, intendant of circuit, 76, 83.
Tao-Te-Ching, evidences against genuineness, 146-151.
Tartar generals, provincial governors, 82.
Taxation—
Combination and resistance, 92-96.
Lightness of taxation, 89.
New imposts, people's approval necessary before enforcement,
90-92.
Opium tax resisted, 95-96.
Pigs, tax on, resisted, 93-95.
Self-taxation, 84.
Illustrations, 92-96.
Likin tax, 89-90.
Tea strike, 95.
Tea, serving and drinking, 187.
Tea strike, Hangchow, 95.
Tenses, Chinese language, 13-15.
“Three Doctrines,” 143, 145.
Tones, Chinese language, 20
Arrangement of concordance to phraseology, 66-68.
Topographies, Chinese, Cambridge collection, 57-60.
University, Columbia, endowment of Chinese chair, 4, 37, 211.
University of Cambridge, Library, see Library.
Veils for women, abolition of, 197.
“Veritable Record,” Cambridge collection, 48.
Viceroys, Chinese, 76, 82, 83.
Visitors, Chinese etiquette, 186-189.
Invitation to dinner, 188.
Left-hand, place of honour, 187.
Tea, serving and drinking, 187.
Vitale, Baron, publication of Chinese nursery rhymes, 206.
Water-clocks, Chinese and Grecian, 128.
Watermelon, Chinese term for, Greek origin, 134.
Wen Tien-hsiang, influence of Chinese literature and training on,
113-116.
Western incidents in Chinese literature, 135-139.
Widows, Chinese, 201-202.
Wine, introduction of grape-wine into China, 131.
Wine-drinking—
Anecdotes, 127-128.
Grecian resemblances, 126-127.
Guest-tea, 187.
Wives—
“Henpecked husbands,” 204.
Status, etc., 196, 198, 199.
[See also Women.]
Women—
Ancestry of ancient Chinese traced through mother, 27.
Biographies of Eminent Women, 50.
Disregard of, 189.
Education, 197-198.
False hair, 180.
Foot-binding, see that title.
Girls, see that title.
Greek similarities, 121-122.
“Henpecked husbands,” 204.
Official life, 198.
Painting the face, custom, 122.
Poems by, 60, 197.
Privileges not shared by men, 201.
Seclusion, 177, 196.
Shopkeepers, business ability, 198.
Veils, abolition of, 197.
Widows, 201-202.
Wives, see that title.
Written Chinese language, see Language.
Wuchang bridge incident, 97.
Yuean Yuean, commentary, Confucian Canon, 43.
Zebra, picture of, in ancient Chinese book, 59.
Zoroastrians in China, 144.