Chapter XII: Polite Literature of the Chinese (3)

Together trudge we, and we pass the lodge of the southern bowers,
Where the beautiful sea-pomegranate waves all its yellow flowers;
Fain would we stop and pluck a few to deck our tresses gay,
But the tree is high, and ’tis vain to try and reach the tempting spray.

XXVII.

The pretty birds upon the boughs sing songs so sweet to hear,
And the sky is so delicious now, half cloudy and half clear;
While bending o’er her work, each maid will prattle of her woe,
And we talk till our hearts are sorely hurt, and tears unstinted flow.

XXVIII.

Our time is up, and yet not full our baskets to the mouth--
The twigs anorth are fully searched, let’s seek them in the south;
Just then by chance I snapped a twig whose leaves were all apair;
See, with my taper fingers now I fix it in my hair.

XXIX.

Of all the various kinds of tea, the bitter beats the sweet,
But for whomever either seeks, for him I’ll find a treat;
Though who it is shall drink them, as bitter or sweet they be,
I know not, my friend--but the pearly end of my finger only see!

XXX.

Ye twittering swallows, rise and fall in your flight around the hill,
But when next I go to the high Sunglo, I’ll change my gown--I will;
And I’ll roll up the cuff and show arm enough, for my arm is fair to see:
Oh, if ever there were a fair round arm, that arm belongs to me!

~CHINESE DRAMAS AND BURLETTAS.~

In the department of plays and dramas, Chinese literature shows a long list of names, few or none of which have ever been heard of away from their native soil. Some of their pieces have been translated by Julien, Bazin, Davis, and others, most of which were selected from the _Hundred Plays of Yuen_. The origin of the present Chinese drama does not date back, according to M. Bazin, beyond the Tang dynasty, though many performances designed to be played and sung in pantomime had been written before that epoch. He cites the names of eighty-one persons, besides mentioning other plays of unknown authors, whose combined writings amount to five hundred and sixty-four separate plays; all of whom flourished during the Mongol dynasty. The plays that have been translated from this collection give a tolerably good idea of Chinese talent in this difficult department; and, generally speaking, whatever strictures may be made upon the management of the plot, exhibition of character, unity of action, or illustration of manners, the tendency of the play is on the side of justice and morality. Père Prémare first translated a play in 1731, under the title of the _Orphan of Chau_,[344] which was taken by Voltaire as the groundwork of one of his plays. _The Heir in Old Age_ and the _Sorrows of Han_ are the names of two translated by Sir J. F. Davis. The _Circle of Chalk_ was translated and published in 1832 by Julien, and a volume of Bazin, ainé, containing the _Intrigues of an Abigail_, the _Compared Tunic_, the _Songstress_, and _Resentment of Tau Ngo_, appeared in 1838, at Paris. None of these pieces exhibit much intricacy of plot, nor would the simple arrangements of Chinese theatres allow much increase to the _dramatis personæ_ without confusion. M. Bazin, moreover, translated the _Pí-pa Kí_, or _History of a Lute_, a drama in twenty-four acts, of more pretensions, partaking of the novel as well as the drama; the play is said to have been represented at Peking in 1404, under the Ming dynasty.[345]

~THE MENDER OF CHINAWARE--A FARCE.~

Besides plays in the higher walks of the drama, which form the principal part of the performances at theatres, there are by-plays or farces, which, being confined to two or three interlocutors, depend for their attractiveness upon the droll gesticulations, impromptu allusions to passing occurrences, and excellent pantomimic action of the performers. They are usually brought on at the conclusion of the bill, and from the freedom given in them to an exhibition of the humor or wit of the players, are much liked by the people. A single illustration will exhibit the simple range and character of these burlettas.

THE MENDER OF CRACKED CHINAWARE.

DRAMATIS PERSONÆ. { _Niu Chau_ A wandering tinker.
{ _Wang Niang_ A young girl.

_Scene--A Street._

NIU CHAU _enters--across his shoulder is a bamboo, to each end of
which are suspended boxes containing the various tools and implements
of his trade, and a small stool. He is dressed meanly; his face and
head are painted and decorated in a fantastic manner._

(_Sings_) Seeking a livelihood by the work of my hands,
Daily do I traverse the streets of the city.
(_Speaks_) Well, here I am, a mender of broken jars,
An unfortunate victim of ever changing plans.
To repair old fractured jars
Is my sole occupation and support.
’Tis even so. I have no other employment.

(_Takes his boxes from his shoulder, places them on the ground, sits
beside them, and drawing out his fan, continues speaking_)--

A disconsolate old man--I am a slave to inconveniences.
For several days past I have been unable to go abroad,
But, observing this morning a clear sky and fine air,
I was induced to recommence my street wanderings.
(_Sings_) At dawn I left my home,
But as yet have had no job.
Hither and yon, and on all sides,
From the east gate to the west,
From the south gate to the north,
And all over within the walls,
Have I been, but no one has called
For the mender of cracked jars. Unfortunate man!
But this being my first visit to the city of Nanking,
Some extra exertion is necessary;
Time is lost sitting idle here, and so to roam again I go.

(_Shoulders his boxes and stool, and walks about, crying_)--

Plates mended! Bowls mended!
Jars and pots neatly repair’d!

_Lady Wang_ (_heard within_). Did I not hear the cry of the
mender of cracked jars?

I’ll open the door and look. (_She enters, looking around._)
Yes, there comes the repairer of jars.

_Niu Chau._ Pray, have you a jar to mend?
I have long been seeking a job.
Did you not call?

_Lady W._ What is your charge for a large jar--
And how much for a small one?

_Niu Chau._ For large jars, one mace five.

_Lady W._ And for small ones?

_Niu Chau._ Fifty pair of cash.

_Lady W._ To one mace five, and fifty pair of cash,
Add nine candareens, and a new jar may be had.

_Niu Chau._ What, then, will you give?

_Lady W._ I will give one candareen for either size.

_Niu Chau._ Well, lady, how many cash can I get for this candareen?

_Lady W._ Why, if the price be high, you will get eight cash.

_Niu Chau._ And if low?

_Lady W._ You will get but seven cash and a half.

_Niu Chau._ Oh, you wicked, tantalizing thing!
(_Sings_) Since leaving home this morning,
I have met but with a trifler,
Who, in the shape of an old wife,
Tortures and gives me no job;
I’ll shoulder again my boxes, and continue my walk,
And never again will I return to the house of Wang.

(_He moves off slowly._)

_Lady W._ Jar-mender! return, quickly return; with a loud voice, I
entreat you; for I have something on which I wish to consult
with you.

_Niu Chau._ What is it on which you wish to consult me?

_Lady W._ I will give you a hundred cash to mend a large jar.

_Niu Chau._ And for mending a small one?

_Lady W._ And for mending a small one, thirty pair of cash.

_Niu Chau._ One hundred, and thirty pair!--truly, lady, this is worth
consulting about.
Lady Wang, where shall I mend them?

_Lady W._ Follow me. (_They move toward the door of the house._)

(_Sings_) Before walks the Lady Wang.

_Niu Chau._ And behind comes the _pu-kang_ (or jar-mender).

_Lady W._ Here, then, is the place.

_Niu Chau._ Lady Wang, permit me to pay my respects.

(_Bows repeatedly in a ridiculous manner._)

We can exchange civilities.
I congratulate you; may you prosper--before and behind.

_Lady W._ Here is the jar; now go to work and mend it.

(_Takes the jar in his hand and tosses it about, examining it._)

_Niu Chau._ This jar has certainly a very appalling fracture.

_Lady W._ Therefore, it requires the more care in mending.

_Niu Chau._ That is self-evident.

_Lady W._ Now, Lady Wang will retire again to her dressing room,
And, after closing the door, will resume her toilet.
Her appearance she will beautify;
On the left, her hair she will comb into a dragon’s head tuft,
On the right, she will arrange it tastefully with flowers;
Her lips she will color with blood-red vermilion,
And a gem of chrysoprase will she place in the dragon’s head tuft.
Then, having completed her toilet, she will return to the door,
And sit down to look at the jar-mender. (_Exit._)

(_Niu Chau sits down, straps the jar on his knee, and arranges
his tools before him, and as he drills holes for the clamps,
sings_)--

Every hole drilled requires a pin,
And every two holes drilled require pins a pair.
As I raise my head and look around,

(_At this moment Lady Wang re-enters, beautifully dressed,
and sits down by the door._)

There sits, I see, a delicate young lady;
Before she had the appearance of an old wife,
Now she is transformed into a handsome young girl.
On the left, her hair is comb’d into a dragon’s head tuft;
On the right it is adorn’d tastefully with flowers.
Her lips are like plums, her mouth is all smiles,
Her eyes are as brilliant as the phœnix’s; and
She stands on golden lilies, but two inches long.
I look again, another look,--down drops the jar.

(_The jar at this moment falls, and is broken to pieces._)

(_Speaks_) Heigh-ya! Here then is a dreadful smash!

_Lady W._ You have but to replace it with another, and do so quickly.

_Niu Chau._ For one that was broken, a good one must be given.
Had two been broken, then were a pair to be supplied;
An old one being smashed, a new one must replace it.

_Lady W._ You have destroyed the jar, and return me nothing but words.
Give me a new one, then you may return home,--not before.

_Niu Chau._ Here upon my knees upon the hard ground, I beg Lady Wang,
while she sits above, to listen to a few words. Let me receive pardon
for the accident her beauty has occasioned, and I will at once make
her my wife.

_Lady W._ Impudent old man! How presume to think
That I ever can become your wife!

_Niu Chau._ Yes, it is true, I am somewhat older than Lady Wang,
Yet would I make her my wife.

_Lady W._ No matter then for the accident, but leave me now at once.

_Niu Chau._ Since you have forgiven me, I again shoulder my boxes,
And I will go elsewhere in search of a wife.
And here, before high heaven, I swear never again to come near the
house of Wang.
You a great lady! You are but a vile ragged girl,
And will yet be glad to take up with a much worse companion.

(_Going away, he suddenly throws off his upper dress, and
appears as a handsome young man._)

_Lady W._ Henceforth, give up your wandering profession,
And marrying me, quit the trade of a jar-mender.
With the Lady Wang pass happily the remainder of your life.

(_They embrace, and exeunt._)

~DEFICIENCIES AND LIMITS OF CHINESE LITERATURE.~

Such is the general range and survey of Chinese literature, according to the Catalogue of the Imperial Libraries. It is, take it in a mass, a stupendous monument of human toil, fitly compared, so far as it is calculated to instruct its readers in useful knowledge, to their Great Wall, which can neither protect from its enemies, nor be of any real use to its makers. Its deficiencies are glaring. No treatises on the geography of foreign countries nor truthful narratives of travels abroad are contained in it, nor any account of the languages of their inhabitants, their history, or their governments. Philological works in other languages than those spoken within the Empire are unknown, and must, owing to the nature of the language, remain so until foreigners prepare them. Works on natural history, medicine, and physiology are few and useless, while those on mathematics and the exact sciences are much less popular and useful than they might be; and in the great range of theology, founded on the true basis of the Bible, there is almost nothing. The character of the people has been mostly formed by their ancient books, and this correlate influence has tended to repress independent investigation in the pursuit of truth, though not to destroy it. A new infusion of science, religion, and descriptive geography and history will lead to comparison with other countries, and bring out whatever in it is good.

A survey of this body of literature shows the effect of governmental patronage, in maintaining its character for what appears to us to be a wearisome uniformity. New ideas, facts, and motives must now come from the outer world, which will gradually elevate the minds of the people above the same unvarying channel. If the scholar knows that the goal he strives for is to be attained by proficiency in the single channel of classical knowledge, he cannot be expected to attend to other studies until he has secured the prize. A knowledge of medicine, mathematics, geography, or foreign languages, might, indeed, do the candidate much more good than all he gets out of the classics, but knowledge is not his object; and where all run the same race, all must study the same works. But let there be a different programme of themes and essays, and a wider range of subjects required of the students, and the present system of governmental examinations in China, with all its imperfections, can be made of great benefit to the people, if it is not put to a strain too great for the end in view.

~CHINESE PROVERBS.~

The Chinese are fond of proverbs and aphorisms. They employ them in their writings and conversation as much as any people, and adorn their houses by copying them upon elegant scrolls, carving them upon pillars, and embroidering them upon banners. A complete collection of the proverbs of the Chinese has never been made, even among the people themselves any more than among those of other lands. Davis published, in 1828, a volume called _Moral Maxims_, containing two hundred aphorisms; P. Perny issued an assortment of four hundred and forty-one in 1869; and J. Doolittle collected several hundred proverbs, signs, couplets, and scrolls in his _Vocabulary_. Besides these, a collection of two thousand seven hundred and twenty proverbs was published in 1875 by W. Scarborough, furnished with a good index, and, like the others noted here, with the original text. Davis mentions the _Ming Sin Pao Kien_, or ‘Jewelled Mirror for Illumining the Mind,’ as containing a large number of proverbs. The _Ku Sz’ Kiung Lin_, or ‘Coral Forest of Ancient Matters,’ is a similar collection; but if that be compared to a dictionary of quotations, this is better likened to a classical dictionary, the notes which follow the sentences leaving the reader in no doubt as to their meaning.

Manuscript lists of sentences suitable for hanging upon doors or in parlors are collected by persons who write them at New Year’s, and whose success depends upon their facility in quoting elegant couplets. The following selection will exhibit to some extent this branch of Chinese wisdom and wit:

Not to distinguish properly between the beautiful and ugly, is like
attaching a dog’s tail to a squirrel’s body.

An avaricious man, who can never have enough, is as a serpent wishing
to swallow an elephant.

While one misfortune is going, to have another coming, is like
driving a tiger out of the front door, while a wolf is entering the
back.

The tiger’s cub cannot be caught without going into his den.

To paint a snake and add legs. (Exaggeration.)

To sketch a tiger and make it a dog, is to imitate a work of genius
and spoil it.

To ride a fierce dog to catch a lame rabbit. (Useless power over a
contemptible enemy.)

To attack a thousand tigers with ten men. (To attempt a difficulty
with incommensurate means.)

To cut off a hen’s head with a battle-axe. (Unnecessary valor.)

To cherish a bad man is like nourishing a tiger; if not well fed he
will devour you: or like rearing a hawk; if hungry he will stay by
you, but fly away when fed.

To instigate a villain to do wrong is like teaching a monkey to climb
trees.

To catch a fish and throw away the net;--not to requite benefits.

To take a locust’s shank for the shaft of a carriage;--an inefficient
person doing important work.

A pigeon sneering at a roc;--a mean man despising a prince.

To climb a tree to catch a fish, is to talk much and get nothing.

To test one good horse by judging the portrait of another.

A fish sports in the kettle, but his life will not be long.

Like a swallow building her nest on a hut is an anxious statesman.

Like a crane among hens is a man of parts among fools.

Like a sheep dressed in a tiger’s skin is a superficial scholar.

Like a cuckoo in a magpie’s nest is one who enjoys another’s labor.

To hang on the tail of a beautiful horse. (To seek promotion.)

Do not pull up your stockings in a melon field, or arrange your hat
under a peach tree, lest people think you are stealing.

An old man marrying a young wife is like a withered willow sprouting.

Let us get drunk to-day while we have wine; the sorrows of to-morrow
may be borne to-morrow.

If the blind lead the blind, they will both go to the pit.

Good iron is not used for nails, nor are soldiers made of good men.

A fair wind raises no storm.

A little impatience subverts great undertakings.

Vast chasms can be filled, but the heart of man is never satisfied.

The body may be healed, but the mind is incurable.

When the tree falls the monkeys flee.

Trouble neglected becomes still more troublesome.

Wood is not sold in the forest, nor fish at the pool.

He who looks at the sun is dazzled, he who hears the thunder is
deafened. (Do not come too near the powerful.)

He desires to hide his tracks, and walks on the snow.

He seeks the ass, and lo! he sits upon him.

Speak not of others, but convict yourself.

A man is not always known by his looks, nor the sea measured by a
bushel.

Ivory does not come from a rat’s mouth.

If a chattering bird be not placed in the mouth, vexation will not
sit between the eyebrows.

Prevention is better than cure.

For the Emperor to break the laws is one with the people’s doing so.

Doubt and distraction are on earth, the brightness of truth in heaven.

Punishment can oppose a barrier to open crime, laws cannot reach to
secret offences.

Wine and good dinners make abundance of friends, but in time of
adversity not one is to be found.

Let every man sweep the snow from before his own doors, and not
trouble himself about the hoarfrost on his neighbor’s tiles.

Better be upright with poverty than depraved with abundance. He whose
virtue exceeds his talents is the good man; he whose talents exceed
his virtues is the fool.

Though a man may be utterly stupid, he is very perspicuous when
reprehending the bad actions of others; though he may be very
intelligent, he is dull enough when excusing his own faults:
do you only correct yourselves on the same principle that you
correct others, and excuse others on the same principles you excuse
yourselves.[346]

If I do not debauch other men’s wives, my own will not be polluted.

Better not be than be nothing.

The egg fights with the rock--hopeless resistance.

One thread does not make a rope; one swallow does not make a summer.

To be fully fed and warmly clothed, and dwell at ease without
learning, is little better than a bestial state.

A woman in one house cannot eat the rice of two. (A wise woman does
not marry again.)

Though the sword be sharp, it will not wound the innocent.

Sensuality is the chief of sins, filial duty the best of acts.

Prosperity is a blessing to the good, but to the evil it is a curse.

Instruction pervades the heart of the wise, but cannot penetrate the
ears of a fool.

The straightest trees are first felled; the cleanest wells first
drunk up.

The yielding tongue endures; the stubborn teeth perish.

The life of the aged is like a candle placed between two
doors--easily blown out.

The blind have the best ears, and the deaf the sharpest eyes.

The horse’s back is not so safe as the buffalo’s. (The politician is
not so secure as the husbandman.)

A wife should excel in four things: virtue, speech, deportment, and
needle-work.

He who is willing to inquire will excel, but the self-sufficient man
will fail.

Anger is like a little fire, which if not timely checked may burn
down a lofty pile.

Every day cannot be a feast of lanterns.

Too much lenity multiplies crime.

If you love your son, give him plenty of the cudgel; if you hate him,
cram him with dainties.

When the mirror is highly polished, the dust will not defile it; when
the heart is enlightened with wisdom, impure thoughts will not arise
in it.

A stubborn wife and stiffnecked son no laws can govern.

He is my teacher who tells me my faults, my enemy who speaks my
virtues.

He has little courage who knows the right and does it not.

To sue a flea, and catch a bite--the results of litigation.

Would you understand the character of a prince, look at his
ministers; or the disposition of a man, observe his companions; or
that of a father, first mark his son.

The fame of good deeds does not leave a man’s door, but his evil acts
are known a thousand miles off.

A virtuous woman is a source of honor to her husband, a vicious one
disgraces him.

The original tendency of man’s heart is to do right, and if well
ordered will not of itself be mistaken.

They who respect themselves will be honored, but disesteeming
ourselves we shall be despised.

The load a beggar cannot carry he himself begged.

The happy-hearted man carries joy for all the household.

The more mouths to eat so much the more meat.

The higher the rat creeps up the cow’s horn the narrower he finds it.

FOOTNOTES:

[329] Compare Rémusat, _Nouveaux Mélanges_, Tome II., pp. 130 ff., where there are excellent biographical notices of Sz’ma Tsien and other native historians.

[330] _Chinese Repository_, Vol. IX., pp. 210, 274.

[331] Legge’s _Chinese Classics_, Vol. III.; _Prolegomena_, Chap. IV. E. Biot in the _Journal Asiatique_, 2e Series, Tomes XII., p. 537, and XIII., pp. 203, 381.

[332] Compare Rémusat, _Mélanges Asiatiques_, Tome II., p. 166; _Chinese Repository_, Vol. IX., p. 143; Wylie’s _Notes_, p. 55; Mayer’s _Chinese Reader’s Manual_, p. 149.

[333] Translated by Rev. W. H. Medhurst, in the _Chinese Repository_, Vol. XIII., pp. 552, 609 et seq.

[334] _The Sacred Edict_, London, 1817; a second edition of this translation appeared in Shanghai in 1870, and another in 1878. Compare Wylie’s _Notes_, p. 71; Sir G. T. Staunton’s _Miscellaneous Notices_, etc., pp. 1-56 (1812); _Le Saint Edit, Étude de Littérature chinoise_, préparée par A. Théophile Piry, Shanghai, 1879.

[335] _Sacred Edict_, pp. 254-259.

[336] _Sacred Edict_, p. 146.

[337] The second of these, Tu Fu, is a poet of some distinction noticed by Rémusat (_Nouveaux Mélanges_, Tome II., p. 174). He lived in the eighth century A.D., dying of hunger in the year 768. His writings are usually edited with those of Lí Tai-peh.

[338] Davis, _Poetry of the Chinese_, London, 1870; G. C. Stent, _The Jade Chaplet_, London, 1874; _Entombed Alive, and other Verses_, 1878; Le Marquis D’Hervey-Saint-Denys, _Poésies de l’Epoque des Thang_, Paris, 1862. A number of extracts of classical and modern literature will be found in _Confucius and the Chinese Classics_, compiled by Rev. A. W. Loomis, San Francisco, 1867. _China Review_, Vols. I., p. 248, IV., p. 46, and passim.

[339] _Chinese Courtship. In Verse. To which is added an Appendix treating of the Revenue of China_, etc., etc., by Peter Perring Thoms, London, 1824. Compare the _Quarterly Review_ for 1827, pp. 496 ff. _Le Li-Sao, Poème du III^e Siècle avant notre ère. Traduit du Chinois_, par le Marquis d’Hervey de Saint-Denys, Paris, 1870.

[340] Stent’s _Jade Chaplet_.

[341] A translation is given in the _Chinese Repository_ (Vol. IX., p. 508) of a supposed complaint made by a cow of her sad lot in being obliged to work hard and fare poorly during life, and then be cut up and eaten when dead; the ballad is arranged in the form of the animal herself, and a herdboy leading her, who in his own form praises the happiness of a rural life. This ballad is a Buddhist tractate, and that fraternity print many such on broad-sheets; one common collection of prayers is arranged like a pagoda, with images of Buddha sitting in the windows of each story.

[342] The _kí_, or ‘flag,’ is the term by which the leaflets are called when they just begin to unroll; the _tsiang_, or ‘awl,’ designates those leaves which are still wrapped up and which are somewhat sharp.

[343] The _ting_ is not exactly a stile, being a kind of shed, or four posts supporting a roof, which is often erected by villagers for the convenience of wayfarers, who can stop there and rest. It sometimes contains a bench or seat, and is usually over or near a spring of water.

[344] _Tchao-chi-cou-eulh, ou l’Orphelin de la Maison de Tchao, tragédie chinoise_, _traduite_ par le R. P. de Prémare, Miss. de la Chine, 1755. Julien published a translation of the same, Paris, 1834.

[345] Since the appearance of M. Bazin’s _Théâtre Chinois_ (Paris, 1838) and Davis’ _Sorrows of Han_ (London, 1829), there has been astonishingly little done in the study of Chinese plays. Compare, for the rest, an article on this subject by J. J. Ampère, in the _Revue des Deux Mondes_, September, 1838; _The Far East_, Vol. I. (1876), pp. 57 and 90; _Chinese Repository_, Vol. VI., p. 575; _China Review_, Vol. I., p. 26; also Lay’s _Chinese as They Are_, and Dr. Gray’s _China_, passim. Lieut. Kreitner gives an interesting picture of the Chinese theatre in a country town, together with a few pages upon the drama, of which his party were spectators. _Im fernen Osten_, pp. 595-599.

[346] The commendation by Lord Brougham of this “admirable precept,” as he called it, is cited by Sir J. Davis.