Chapter VIII: Front Matter (8)

The manuscript I quote from describes minutely all the pantomimic performances, the tricks of conjurors and jugglers, and the feats of posture-masters, but as they seem to be pretty much of the same kind as were exhibited before the British Embassy in Tartary, as described by Lord Macartney, I forbear to relate them. Enough has been said to shew the taste of the court in this respect, and the state of the drama in China.

I suspect, however, that the amusements of the theatre have in some degree degenerated at court since the time of the Tartar conquest. Dancing, riding, wrestling, and posture-making, are more congenial to the rude and unpolished Tartar than the airs and dialogue of a regular drama, which is better suited to the genius and spirit of the ceremonious and effeminate Chinese. I am led to this observation from the very common custom among the Chinese officers of state of having private theatres in their houses, in which, instead of the juggling tricks above mentioned, they occasionally entertain their guests with regular dramatic performances. In the course of our journey through the country and at Canton, we were entertained with a number of exhibitions of this kind; and as "the purpose of playing," as our immortal bard has observed, "both at the first, and now, was, and is, to hold as 'twere the mirror up to nature," it may not be foreign to the present subject to take a brief notice of such performances.

The subjects of the pieces exhibited are for the most part historical, and relate generally to the transactions of remote periods, in which cases the dresses are conformable to the ancient _costume_ of China. There are others, however, that represent the Tartar conquest, but none built on historical events subsequent to that period. But the ancient drama is preferred by the critics. They have also comic pieces, in which there is always a buffoon, whose grimaces and low jests, like those of the buffoons in our own theatres, obtain from the audience the greatest share of applause. The dialogue in all their dramas, whether serious or comic, is conducted in a kind of monotonous recitative, sometimes however rising or sinking a few tones, which are meant to be expressive of passionate or querulous cadences. The speaker is interrupted at intervals by shrill harsh music, generally of wind instruments, and the pauses are invariably filled up with a loud crash, aided by the sonorous and deafening gong, and sometimes by the kettle drum. An air or song generally follows. Joy, grief, rage, despair, madness, are all attempted to be expressed in song on the Chinese stage. I am not sure that a vehement admirer of the Italian opera might not take umbrage at the representation of a Chinese drama, as it appears to be something so very like a burlesque on that fashionable species of dramatic entertainment; nor is the Chinese stage wanting in those vocal warblers, the nature of whom, as we are told by the ingenious and very entertaining Martin Sherlock, a French lady explained to her little inquisitive daughter, by informing her, that there was the same difference between them and men, as between an ox and a bull. Such creatures are indeed more necessary to the Chinese theatre, as the manners of the country prohibit women from appearing in public.

The unity of action is so far preserved, that they have actually no change of scene; but change of place must frequently be supposed. To assist the imagination in this respect, their management is whimsical enough. If it be necessary to send a general on a distant expedition, he mounts a stick, takes two or three turns round the stage, brandishes a little whip, and sings a song; when this is ended, he stops short, and recommences his recitative, when the journey is supposed to be performed. The want of scenery is sometimes supplied by a very unclassical figure, which, just the reverse of the _prosopopoeia_ or personification of grammarians, considers persons to represent things. If, for instance, a walled city is to be stormed, a parcel of soldiers, piling themselves on a heap across the stage, are supposed to represent the wall over which the storming party is to scramble. This puts one in mind of the shifts of Nick Bottom. "Some man or other must present wall," and, "let him have some plaister, or some lome, or some rough-cast about him to signify wall."

The audience is never left in doubt as to the character which is produced before it. Like the ancient Greek drama and, in imitation thereof, all our old plays, the _dramatis personæ_ introduce themselves in appropriate speeches to the acquaintance of the spectators.

As to the time of action, a single drama will sometimes include the transactions of a whole century, or even of a dynasty more than twice the length of that period; which, among other absurdities, gave Voltaire occasion to compare what he thought to be a literal translation of the _Orphan of the House of Tchao_, "to those monstrous farces of Shakespear, which have been called tragedies;" farces, however, which will continue to be read by those who understand them, which _he_ did not, with heartfelt emotion and delight, when his _Orphan of China_ shall have sunk into the neglect even of his own admiring countrymen.

In this miserable composition of _Father Prémare_, for it can scarcely be called a translation, there is neither diction, nor sentiment, nor character; it is a mere tissue of unnatural, or at least very improbable events, fit only for the amusement of children, and not capable of raising one single passion, but that of contempt for the taste of those who could express an admiration of such a composition. The denouement of the piece is materially assisted by means of a dog: but this part of the story is told, and not exhibited; the Chinese taste not being quite so depraved, in this instance, as to admit the performance of a four-footed animal on the stage.

This drama, with ninety-nine others, published together in one work, are considered as the classical stock-pieces of the Chinese stage; but like ourselves, they complain that a depraved taste prevails for modern productions very inferior to those of ancient date. It is certainly true, that every sort of ribaldry and obscenity are encouraged on the Chinese stage at the present day. A set of players of a superior kind travel occasionally from Nankin to Canton; at the latter of which cities, it seems, they meet with considerable encouragement from the Hong merchants, and other wealthy inhabitants. At these exhibitions the English are sometimes present. The subject and the conduct of one of their stock pieces, which being a great favourite is frequently repeated, are so remarkable, that I cannot forbear taking some notice of it. A woman being tempted to murder her husband performs the act whilst he is asleep, by striking a small hatchet into his forehead. He appears on the stage with a large gash just above the eyes, out of which issues a prodigious effusion of blood, reels about for some time, bemoaning his lamentable fate in a song, till exhausted by loss of blood, he falls, and dies. The woman is seized, brought before a magistrate, and condemned to be flayed alive. The sentence is put in execution; and, in the following act, she appears upon the stage not only naked, but completely excoriated. The thin wrapper with which the creature (an eunuch) is covered, who sustains the part, is stretched so tight about the body, and so well painted, as to represent the disgusting object of a human being deprived of its skin; and in this condition the character sings or, more properly speaking, whines nearly half an hour on the stage, to excite the compassion of three infernal or malignant spirits who, like Æacus, Minos, and Rhadamanthus, sit in judgment on her future destiny. I have been informed that it is scarcely possible to conceive a more obscene, indelicate, and disgusting object, than this favourite exhibition, which, if intended "to hold the mirror up to nature," it is to nature in its most gross, rude, and uncivilized state, ill-agreeing with the boasted morality, high polish, refined delicacy, and ceremonious exterior of the Chinese nation; but it tends, among other parts of their real conduct in life, to strengthen an observation I have already made with regard to their filial piety, and which, with few exceptions, may perhaps be extended to most of their civil and moral institutions, "that they exist more in state maxims, than in the minds of the people." As, however, a Chinese might be led to make similar reflexions on the exhibition of Harlequin Skeleton, and those numerous representations that of late years have crept upon our own stage, where ghosts, hobgoblins, and bleeding statues are called in aid of the _spectacle_, I should hesitate to draw any general conclusion, with regard to their taste, from the particular exhibition of a woman flayed alive, were they not in the constant practice of performing other pieces that, in point of immorality and obscenity, are still infinitely worse; so vulgarly indelicate and so filthy, that the European part of the audience is sometimes compelled by disgust to leave the theatre. These are such as will not bear description, nor do I know to what scenic representations they can with propriety be compared, unless to those gross indecencies of Theodora, which Procopius has described to have been exhibited on the Roman stage, in the reign of Justinian[11]. The people who encourage them must be sunk very deep in intellectual grossness, and have totally lost sight of all decency. These and similar scenes may be considered among the ill effects of excluding women from their due share of influence in society.

[11] See _Gibbon_, under Emperor Justinian; and _Menagiana_, in which is
given the translation of a very extraordinary passage from _Procopius_.

It would be impossible to compliment the court of Pekin on the elegance and refinement of its entertainments, but at the expence of truth and reason. Those of Tartar origin will no more bear a comparison with the noble contests of strength and agility displayed by the old hardy Romans in the Circensian games, than the regular drama of the Chinese will admit of being measured by the softer, but more refined and rational amusements of a similar kind in Europe. It is true the scenic representations in the decline of the Roman empire, as they are described to us, appear to have been as rude and barbarous as those of the Chinese. They began by exhibiting in their vast amphitheatre the rare and wonderful productions of nature. Forests enlivened with innumerable birds; caverns pouring forth lions, and tygers, and panthers, and other beasts of prey; plains covered with the elephant, the rhinosceros, the zebra, the ostrich, and other curious animals, which the wilds of Africa furnished, were all brought together within the circuit of the _arena_. Not satisfied with the rich productions of the earth, the sea must also become tributary to their amusements. The arena was convertible into a sheet of water; and, at length, the two elements concluding a marriage, as on the Chinese theatre, produced a race of monsters which, according to the Latin poet's[12] description, might vie with those of China.

"Non solum nobus sylvestria cernere monstra
Contigit, æquoreos ego cum certantibus ursis
Spectavi vitulos, et equorum nomine dignum
Sed difforme genus."----

Where Sylvan monsters not alone appear,
But sea-cows struggle with the shaggy bear,
And horses of the deep, a shapeless race.----

[12] T. Calpurnius.

In short, the greater part of the amusements of the Chinese are, at the present day, of a nature so very puerile, or so gross and vulgar, that the tricks and the puppet-shews which are occasionally exhibited in a common fair of one of the country towns of England, may be considered as comparatively polished, interesting, and rational. In slight-of-hand, in posture-making, rope-dancing, riding, and athletic exercises, they are much inferior to Europeans; but in the variety of their fire-works they, perhaps, may carry the palm against the whole world. In every other respect the amusements of the capital of China appear to be of a low and trifling nature, neither suited to the affected gravity of the government nor to the generally supposed state of civilization among the people.

The old Emperor, as he observed to Lord Macartney, seldom partook of such amusements. Considering, indeed, all the circumstances connected with the reign of the present dynasty on the throne, the government of an empire of such vast magnitude, stored with an almost incalculable population, must necessarily be a task of inconceivable vigilance and toil; a task that must have required all the time, the talents, and the attention of the four sovereigns to ensure the brilliant and unparalleled successes that have distinguished their long reign. _Tchien Lung_, at the age of eighty-three, was so little afflicted with the infirmities of age, that he had all the appearance and activity of a hale man of sixty. His eye was dark, quick, and penetrating, his nose rather aquiline, and his complexion, even at this advanced age, was florid. His height I should suppose to be about five feet ten inches, and he was perfectly upright. Though neither corpulent nor muscular at eighty-three, it was not difficult to perceive that he once had possessed great bodily strength. He always enjoyed a vigorous constitution, which the regularity of his life did not impair. Like all the Mantchoo Tartars he was fond of hunting, an exercise that during the summer months he never neglected. He had the reputation of being an expert bowman, and inferior only in drawing this weapon to his grandfather _Caung-shee_, who boasts, in his last will, that he drew a bow of the weight or strength of one hundred and fifty pounds.

Nor were the faculties of his mind less active, or less powerful, than those of his body. As prompt in conceiving as resolute in executing his plans of conquest, he seemed to command success. Kind and charitable, as on all occasions he shewed himself to his subjects, by remitting the taxes, and administering relief in seasons of distress, he was no less vindictive and relentless to his enemies. Impatient of restraint or reverses, he has sometimes been led to act with injustice, and to punish with too great severity. His irascible temper was once the cause of a severe and lasting affliction to himself, and the circumstances connected with it are said to have produced a gloom and melancholy on his mind which never entirely forsook him. About the middle part of his reign, he made a circuit through the heart of his empire. At _Sau-tchoo-foo_, a city that is celebrated for its beautiful ladies which, being purchased when infants, are educated there for sale to the opulent, he was captivated with a girl of extraordinary beauty and talents, whom he intended to carry back with him to his capital. The Empress, by means of an eunuch, was made acquainted with his new amour, and dreading his future neglect, her spirits were depressed to such a degree, that a few days after receiving the intelligence she put an end to her existence with a cord. The Emperor, on hearing this melancholy news, was greatly distressed and repaired without delay to Pekin. One of his sons, a very amiable youth, fearful of incurring his father's displeasure, had entertained some doubts whether it would be most proper to appear before him in deep mourning for his mother, which might be construed as an insult to the father, who had been the cause of her death, or in his robes of ceremony, which would be disrespectful to the memory of his deceased mother. In this dilemma he consulted his schoolmaster, who, like a true Chinese, advised him to put on both. He did so and, unfortunately for him, covered the mourning with the ceremonial habit. _Tchien-Lung_, whose affection had now returned for his deceased Empress, and whose melancholy fate he was deeply lamenting, on perceiving his son at his feet without mourning, was so shocked and exasperated at the supposed want of filial duty that, in the moment of rage, he gave him a violent kick in an unfortunate place which, after his languishing a few days, proved fatal.

None of his four surviving sons ever possessed any share of his confidence or authority which, of late years, were wholly bestowed on his first minister _Ho-chung-tong_. He had a due sense of religious duties, which he regularly performed every morning. Having made a vow at the early part of his reign that, should it please heaven to grant him to govern his dominions for a complete cycle, or sixty years, he would then retire, and resign the throne to his successor, he religiously observed it on the accomplishment of the event. The sincerity of his faith may partly be inferred from the numerous and splendid temples he built and endowed in different parts of oriental Tartary, of which the _Poo-ta-la_, or convent of Budha at Gehol, is the most magnificent. It is said indeed, from the circumstance of his long and fortunate reign, he had, in his later years, entertained an idea, that the Lama, or Budha, or Fo, for they are all the same personage, had condescended to become incarnate in his person. "However wild and extravagant," observes Lord Macartney, "such a conceit may be regarded, we know from history how much even the best understandings may be perverted by prosperity, and that human nature, not satisfied with the good things of this world, sometimes wishes to anticipate the condition and felicity of the next. If Alexander scorned to own less than Jupiter Ammon for his father, if many Roman Emperors extorted altars and sacrifices in their lifetime, if, even in the reign of Queen Elizabeth, an English nobleman[13] encouraged the belief of his descent from a swan, and was complimented in a dedication upon his feathered pedigree, a similar infatuation may be the less inexcusable in _Kien-Long_, a monarch, the length and happiness of whose reign, the unlimited obedience of whose incalculable number of subjects, and the health and vigour of whose body, have hitherto kept out of his view most of those circumstances that are apt to remind other men of their misery and mortality."

[13] Duke of Buckingham. See the notes on this character in Shakespear's
Henry VIII. Act. i, Scene 2.

Till his last illness he continued to rise at three o'clock in the morning, both in winter and summer. He usually took some cordial to fortify his stomach, and then repaired to his private devotions at one of his temples. After this he read the dispatches of his great officers, both civil and military, who from their different stations were ordered to write to him directly, and not to the tribunals as had usually been the case. About seven he took his breakfast of tea, wines, and confectionary, when he transacted business with the first minister, consulting with, or directing, him in the weighty matters of state, previous to their appearing in regular form before the respective departments to which they belonged. He had then a kind of levee, which was usually attended by the Collaos, or ministers, and the presidents of the departments or public boards. At eleven refreshments were again served up and, after business was over, he either amused himself in the women's apartments, or walked round his palace or gardens. Between three and four he usually dined, after which he retired to his private rooms and employed himself in reading or writing till bed-time, which was always regulated by, and seldom later than, the setting of the sun.

He was fully persuaded that his uninterrupted health was chiefly owing to his early retiring to rest, and early rising; an observation, indeed, that in our country has grown into a maxim, and maxims are generally grounded on truth. The late Lord Mansfield made a point for many years of enquiring from all the aged persons, that at any time appeared before him to give evidence, into their particular mode of living, in order that he might be able to form some general conclusion with regard to the causes of their longevity. The result of his observations was, that he could draw no inference from their intemperance or abstemiousness with regard to diet or drinking, but that they all agreed in one point, that of being early risers.

_Tchien-Lung_ resigned the throne of China to his fifteenth son, the present _Kia-king_, in February 1796, having completed a reign of sixty years; and he died in the month of February 1799, at the advanced age of eighty-nine years.

When the Tartars conquered China, they found all the great offices of state filled by eunuchs, and the palace swarmed with these creatures; the greater part was immediately displaced, and other Chinese of talent and education were put into their places. Having, however, adopted the laws and customs of the conquered, it became necessary to keep up the usual establishment of women in the palace, the inevitable consequence of which was the retention of a certain number of eunuchs to look after them. And they are at this moment as numerous, perhaps, in all the palaces, as they were at the conquest, but none of them are dignified with any office of trust or importance in the state. They consider themselves, however, as elevated far above the plebeian rank; and a bunch of keys or a birch broom gives them all the airs and insolence of office.

Of these eunuchs there are two kinds. The one is so far emasculated as never to have the consolation of being a father; the other must submit to lose every trace of manhood. The first are entrusted with the inspection and superintendance of the buildings, gardens, and other works belonging to the imperial palaces, which they are required to keep in order. The _Rasibus_, as the missionaries call them, are admitted into the interior of the palace. These creatures paint their faces, study their dress, and are as coquettish as the ladies, upon whom indeed it is their chief business to attend. The greatest favourite sleeps in the same room with the Emperor, to be ready to administer to his wishes; and in this capacity he finds numberless opportunities to prejudice his master against those for whom he may have conceived a dislike; and instances are not wanting where the first officers in the state have been disgraced by means of these creatures.

They are equally detested and feared by the princes of the blood who reside in the palace, by the court officers, and by the missionaries in the employ of government. The latter find it necessary to make frequent, and sometimes expensive, presents to those in particular about the person of his Imperial Majesty. Should any of these gentlemen happen to carry about with him a watch, snuff-box, or other trinket, which the eunuch condescends to admire, there is no alternative; the missionary takes the hint, and begs his acceptance of it, knowing very well that the only way to preserve his friendship is to share with him his property. An omission of this piece of civility has been productive of great injury to the European. The gentleman who regulates and keeps in order the several pieces of clock-work in the palace assured me, that the old eunuch, who was entrusted with the keys of the rooms, used to go in by night and purposely derange and break the machinery, that he might be put to the trouble and expence of repairing it. This happened to him so often that, at length, he became acquainted with the secret of applying the proper preventive, which although expensive was still less vexatious than the constant reparation of the mischief done to the articles of which he had the superintendance.

The Chinese eunuchs are addicted to all the vices that distinguish these creatures in other countries. There is scarcely one about the palace, whether of the class of porters and sweepers, or of that which is qualified for the inner apartments, but have women in their lodgings, who are generally the daughters of poor people, from whom they are purchased, and are consequently considered as their slaves. It is difficult to conceive a condition in life more humiliating, or more deplorable, than that of a female slave to an eunuch; but happily for such females, in this country the mental powers are not very active. Several of the missionaries assured me of the truth of this fact, which indeed I have strong reasons for believing even of the _Rasibus_. The keeper of the hall of audience once took me to his lodgings, but on coming to the door he desired me to wait till he had made some arrangements within; the meaning of which was, until he had removed his lady out of the way; nor was he in the least displeased at my hinting this to him. Being one of the favourite attendants of the ladies of the court, he was of course a _black eunuch_. He was the most capricious creature in the world; being sometimes extremely civil and communicative, sometimes sullen, and not deigning to open his lips: and whenever he took it into his head to be offended, he was sure to practice some little revenge. I fancy he was clerk of the kitchen, for the quality and the quantity of our dinner generally depended on the state of his humour. When the report of the Embassador's making conditions with regard to the ceremony of introduction first reached _Yuen-min-yuen_, he was more than usually peevish, and conceived, as he thought, a notable piece of revenge. Some pains had been taken to arrange the presents in such a manner in the great hall as to fill the room well, and set them off to the best advantage. The old creature, determined to give us additional trouble and to break through the arrangement that had been made, desired that the whole might be placed at one end of the room. On my objecting to this he pretended to have received the Emperor's order, and that at all events it must be obeyed; and the reason he assigned for the change was, "that his Majesty might see them at once from his throne, without being at the trouble of turning his head."

The great number of these creatures about the palace of _Yuen-min-yuen_ made my residence there extremely disagreeable. They seemed, indeed, to be placed as spies on our conduct. If I attempted to move ever so little beyond the court of our apartments, I was sure of being watched and pursued by some of them; to persist in my walk would have thrown the whole palace in an uproar. I one day happened inadvertently to stray through a thicket, which it seems led towards the apartments of the ladies, but I had not proceeded far before I heard several squalling voices in the thicket, which I soon recognised to be those of eunuchs. They had run themselves out of breath in seeking me, and my old friend of the kitchen was not to be pacified for putting him to the hazard, as he pretended, of losing his head by my imprudence.

The eunuchs and the women are the only companions of the Emperor in his leisure hours: of the latter, one only has the rank of Empress, after whom are two Queens and their numerous attendants, which constitute the second class of the establishment; and the third consists of six Queens, and their attendants. To these three ranks of his wives are attached one hundred ladies, who are usually called his concubines, though they are as much a legal part of his establishment as the others. They would seem to be of the same description, and to hold the same rank as the handmaids of the ancient Israelites. Their children are all considered as branches of the Imperial family, but the preference to the succession is generally given to the male issue of the first Empress, provided there should be any. This however is entirely a matter of choice, the Emperor having an uncontrouled power of nominating his successor, either in his own family or out of it. The daughters are usually married to Tartar princes, and other Tartars of distinction, but rarely, if ever, to a Chinese.

On the accession of a new Emperor, men of the first rank and situation in the empire consider themselves as highly honoured and extremely fortunate, if the graces of their daughters should prove sufficient to provide them a place in the list of his concubines; in which case, like the nuns in some countries of Europe, they are doomed for ever to reside within the walls of the palace. Such a fate, however, being common in China in a certain degree to all women-kind, is less to be deplored than the similar lot of those in Europe, where one sex is supposed to be entitled to an equal degree of liberty with the other; and as the custom of China authorizes the sale of all young women by their parents or relations to men they never saw, and without their consent previously obtained, there can be no hardship in consigning them over to the arms of the prince; nor is any disgrace attached to the condition of a concubine, where every marriage is a legal prostitution. At the death of the sovereign all his women are removed to a separate building, called by a term which, divested of its metaphor, implies the _Palace of Chastity_, where they are doomed to reside during the remainder of their lives.

CHAP. VI.

Language.--Literature, and the fine Arts.--Sciences.--Mechanics, and Medicine.

_Opinion of the Chinese Language being hieroglyphical erroneous.--Doctor
Hager's mistakes.--Etymological Comparisons fallacious.--Examples
of--Nature of the Chinese written Character.--Difficulty and Ambiguity
of.--Curious Mistake of an eminent Antiquarian.--Mode of acquiring the
Character.--Oral Language.--Mantchoo Tartar Alphabet.--Chinese
Literature.--Astronomy.--Chronology.--Cycle of sixty Years.--Geography.
--Arithmetic.--Chemical Arts.--Cannon and Gunpowder.--Distillation.
--Potteries.--Silk Manufactures.--Ivory.--Bamboo.--Paper.--Ink.
--Printing.--Mechanics.--Music.--Painting.--Sculpture.--Architecture.
--Hotel of the English Embassador in Pekin.--The Great Wall.--The Grand
Canal.--Bridges.--Cemeteries.--Natural Philosophy.--Medicine.--Chinese
Pharmacopoeia.--Quacks.--Contagious Fevers.--Small pox.--Opthalmia.
--Venereal Disease.--Midwifery.--Surgery.--Doctor Gregory's Opinion of
their Medical Knowledge.--Sir William Jones's Opinion of their general
Character._

If no traces remained, nor any authorities could be produced, of the antiquity of the Chinese nation, except the written character of their language, this alone would be sufficient to decide that point in its favour. There is so much originality in this language, and such a great and essential difference between it and that of any other nation not immediately derived from the Chinese, that not the most distant degree of affinity can be discovered, either with regard to the form of the character, the system on which it is constructed, or the idiom, with any other known language upon the face of the globe. Authors, however, and some of high reputation, have been led to suppose that, in the Chinese character, they could trace some relation to those hieroglyphical or sacred inscriptions found among the remains of the ancient Egyptians; others have considered it to be a modification of hieroglyphic writing, and that each character was the symbol or comprehensive form of the idea it was meant to express, or, in other words, an abstract delineation of the object intended to be represented. To strengthen such an opinion, they have ingeniously selected a few instances where, by adding to one part, and curtailing another, changing a straight line into a curved one, or a square into a circle, something might be made out that approached to the picture, or the object of the idea conveyed by the character as, for example, the character 田, representing _a cultivated piece of ground_, they supposed to be the picture of an inclosure, turned up in ridges; yet it so happens that, in this country, there are no inclosures; the character, 口 a _mouth_, has been considered by them as a very close resemblance of that object; 上 and 下 _above_ and _below_, distinctly marked these points of position; the character 人, signifying _man_, is, according to their opinion, obviously an abbreviated representation of the human figure; yet the very same character, with an additional line across, thus 大, which by the way approaches nearer to the human figure, having now arms as well as legs, signifies the abstract quality _great_; and with a second line thus 天 the material or visible _heaven_, between either of which and _man_ it would be no easy task to find out the analogy; and still less so to trace an affinity between any of them, and 犬 which signifies _a dog_.

It is true certain ancient characters are still extant, in which a rude representation of the image is employed; as for instance, a circle for the sun, and a crescent for the moon, but these appear to have been used only as abbreviations, in the same manner as these objects are still characterized in our almanacks, and in our astronomical calculations. Thus also the _kingdom of China_ is designed by a square, with a vertical line drawn through the middle, in conformity perhaps with their ideas of the earth being a square, and China placed in its center; so far these may be considered as symbols of the objects intended to be represented. So, also, the numerals one, two, three, being designed by 一 二 三, would naturally suggest themselves as being fully as convenient for the purpose, and perhaps more so than any other; and where the first series of numerals ended, which according to the universal custom of counting by the fingers was at _ten_, the very act of placing the index of the right hand on the little finger of the left would suggest the form of the vertical cross 十 as the symbol or representation of the number ten.

I cannot avoid taking notice in this place of a publication of Doctor Hager, which he calls an "_Explanation of the Elementary Characters of the Chinese_." In this work he has advanced a most extraordinary argument to prove an analogy between the ancient Romans and the Chinese, from the resemblance which he has fancied to exist between the numeral characters and the numeral sounds made use of by those two nations. The Romans, he observes, expressed their numerals one, two, three, by a corresponding number of vertical strokes I. II. III. which the Chinese place horizontally 一 二 三. The Romans designed the number ten by an oblique cross X, and the Chinese by a vertical one 十. This resemblance in the forming of their numerals, so simple and natural that almost all nations have adopted it, is surely too slight a coincidence for concluding, that the people who use them must necessarily, at some period or other, have had communication together. The Doctor however seems to think so, and proceeds to observe, that the three principal Roman cyphers, I. V. X. or one, five and ten, are denoted in the Chinese language by the same sounds that they express in the Roman alphabet. This remark, although ingenious, is not correct. _One_ and _five_, it is true, are expressed in the Chinese language by the _y_ and _ou_ of the French, which it may be presumed, were the sounds that the letters I. and V. obtained in the ancient Roman alphabet; but with regard to the _ten_, or X, which, he says, the Chinese pronounce _xe_, he is entirely mistaken, the Chinese word for _ten_ in Pekin being _shee_, and in Canton _shap_. This error the Doctor appears to have been led into by consulting some vocabulary in the Chinese and Portuguese languages; in the latter of which the letter X is pronounced like our _sh_. But admitting, in its fullest extent, the resemblance of some of the numerals used by the two nations, in the shape of the character, and of others in the sound, it certainly cannot be assumed to prove any thing beyond a mere accidental coincidence.

The earliest accounts of China, after the doubling of the Cape of Good Hope, being written by Portuguese missionaries, and the Chinese proper names still remaining to be spelt in the letters of that alphabet, have led several etymologists into great errors, not only with regard to the letter X, but more particularly in the _m_ final, and the _h_ incipient, the former being pronounced _ng_, and the latter with a strong aspirate, as _sh_. Thus the name of the second Emperor of the present dynasty is almost universally written in Europe _Cam-hi_, whereas it is as universally pronounced in China _Caung-shee_.

The learned Doctor seems to be still less happy in his next conjecture, where he observes that, as the Romans expressed their _five_ by simply dividing the X, or ten, so also the ancient character signifying _five_ with the Chinese was X or ten between two lines thus indicating, as it were, that the number ten was divided in two; the Doctor seems to have forgotten that he has here placed his cross in the _Roman_ form, and not as the Chinese write it; and it is certainly a strange way of cutting a thing in two, by enclosing it between two lines; but the learned seldom baulk at an absurdity, when a system is to be established. The Chinese character for five is 五.

Of all deductions, those drawn from etymological comparisons are, perhaps, the most fallacious. Were these allowed to have any weight, the Chinese spoken language is of such a nature, that it would be no difficult task to point out its relationship to that of every nation upon earth. Being entirely monosyllabic, and each word ending in a vowel or a liquid, and being, at the same time, deprived of the sounds of several letters in our alphabet, it becomes necessarily incapable of supplying any great number of distinct syllables. Three hundred are, in fact, nearly as many as an European tongue can articulate, or ear distinguish. It follows, of course, that the same sound must have a great variety of significations. The syllable _ching_, for example, is actually expressed by fifty-one different characters, each having a different, unconnected, and opposite meaning; but it would be the height of absurdity to attempt to prove the coincidence of any other language with the Chinese, because it might happen to possess a word something like the sound of _ching_, which might also bear a signification not very different from one of those fifty-one that it held in the Chinese.

The Greek abounds with Chinese words. κυον, a _dog_, is in Chinese both _keou_ and _keun_, expressive of the same animal; ἐυ, _good_, is not very different from the Chinese _hau_, which signifies the same quality; and the article τὸ is not far remote from _ta_, _he_, or _that_. Both Greeks and Romans might recognise their first personal pronoun έγω or _ego_ in _go_, or as it is sometimes written _ngo_. The Italian affirmative _si_ is sufficiently near the Chinese _shee_, or _zee_, expressing assent. The French _étang_, and the Chinese _tang_, a pond or lake, are nearly the same, and their two negatives _pas_ and _poo_ are not very remote. _Lex_, _loi_, _le_, _law_, compared with _leu_, _lee_, _laws_ and _institutes_, are examples of analogy that would be decisive to the etymological inquirer. The English word _mien_, the countenance, and the Chinese _mien_, expressing the same idea, are nothing different, and we might be supposed to have taken our _goose_ from their _goo_. To _sing_ is _chaung_, which comes very near our _chaunt_. The Chinese call a cat _miau_, and so does the Hottentot. The Malay word _to know_ is _tau_, and the Chinese monosyllable for the same verb is also _tau_, though in conversation they generally use the compound _tchee-tau_, each of which separately have nearly the same meaning. The Sumatrans have _mau_ for mother, the Chinese say _moo_. On grounds equally slight with these have many attempts been made to form conclusions from etymological comparisons. If I mistake not, the very ingenious Mr. Bryant makes the word _gate_ a derivative from the Indian word _ghaut_, a pass between mountains. Surely this is going a great deal too far for our little monosyllable. Might we not with as great a degree of propriety fetch our _shallow_ or _shoal_ from China, where _sha-loo_ signifies a flat sand, occasionally covered with the tide? A noted antiquarian has been led into some comical mistakes in his attempt to establish a resemblance between the Chinese and the Irish languages, frequently by his having considered the letters of the continental alphabets, in which the Chinese vocabulary he consulted was written, to be pronounced in the same manner as his own[14].

[14] For the curiosity of those who may be inclined to speculate in
etymological comparisons between the Chinese and other languages, I here
subjoin a short list of words in the former, expressing some of the most
striking objects in the creation, a few subjects of natural history, and
of such articles as from their general use are familiar to most nations,
these being of all others the most likely to have retained their
primitive names. The orthography I have used is that of the English
language.

The Earth _tee_
The Air _kee_
Fire _ho_
Water _swee_
The Sea _hai_
A River _ho_
A Lake _tang_
A Mountain _shan_
A Wilderness _ye-tee_
The Sun _jee-to_
The Moon _yué_
The Stars _sing_
The Clouds _yun_
Rain _yeu_
Hail _swee-tan_
Snow _swé_
Ice _ping_
Thunder _luie_
Lightning _shan-tien_
The Wind _fung_
The Day _jee_ or _tien_
The Night _ye_ or _van shang_
The Sky or Heaven _tien_
The East _tung_
The West _see_
The North _pee_
The South _nan_
Man _jin_
Woman _foo-jin_
A Quadruped _shoo_
A Bird _kin_
A Fish _eu_
An Insect _tchong_
A Plant _tsau_
A Tree _shoo_
A Fruit _ko-ste_
A Flower _wha_
A Stone _shee_
Gold _tchin_
Silver _in tse_
Copper _tung_
Lead _yuen_
Iron _tié_
The Head _too_
The Hand _shoo_
The Heart _sin_
The Leg _koo_
The Foot _tchiau_
The Face _mien_
The Eyes _yen-shing_
The Ears _cul-to_
The Hair _too fa_
An ox _nieu_
A Camel _loo-too_
A Horse _ma_
An Ass _loo-tse_
A Dog _kioon_
A Frog _tchoo_
A Sheep _yang_
A Goat, or mountain Sheep _shan-yang_
A Cat _miau_
A Stag _shan loo_
A Pidgeon _koo-tse_
Poultry _kee_
An Egg _kee-tan_
A Goose _goo_
Oil _yeo_
Rice _mee_
Milk _nai_
Vinegar _tsoo_
Tobacco _yen_
Salt _yen_
Silk _tsoo_
Cotton _mien-wha_
Flax Plant _ma_
Hemp _ma_
Wool (Sheep's Hair) _yangmau_
Coals _tan_
Sugar _tang_
Cheese, they have none but thick Milk _nai-ping_, or iced milk
A House _shia_
A Temple _miau_
A Bed _tchuang_
A Door _men_
A Table _tai_
A Chair _ye-tzé_
A Knife _tau_
A Pitcher _ping_
A Plough _lee_
An Anchor _mau_
A Ship _tchuan_
Money _tsien_

I must observe, however, for the information of these philologists, that
scarcely two provinces in China have the same oral language. The
officers and their attendants who came with us from the capital could
converse only with the boatmen of the southern provinces, through the
medium of an interpreter. The character of the language is universal,
but the name or sound of the character is arbitrary. If a _convention of
sounds_ could have been settled like a convention of marks, one would
suppose that a commercial intercourse would have effected it, at least
in the numeral sounds, that must necessarily be interchanged from place
to place and myriads of times repeated from one corner of the empire to
the other. Let us compare then the numerals of Pekin with those of
Canton, the two greatest cities in China.

Pekin. Canton.
1. Ye yat
2. ul ye
3. san saam
4. soo see
5. ou um
6. leu lok
7. tchee tsat
8. pas pat
9. tcheu kow
10. shee shap
11. shee-ye shap-yat
12. shee-ul shap-ye
20. ul-shee ye-shap
30. san-shee saam-shap
31. san-shee-ye saam-shap-yat
32. san-shee-ul saam-shap-ye
100. pe paak
1000. tsien tseen
10,000. van man
100,000. she-van shap-man

If then, in this highly civilized empire, the oral language of the
northern part differs so widely from the southern that, in numerous
instances, by none of the etymological tricks[15] can they be brought to
bear any kind of analogy; if the very word which in Pekin implies the
number _one_, be used in Canton to express _two_, how very absurd and
ludicrous must these learned and laboured dissertations appear, that
would assign an oriental origin to all our modern languages?

[15] Such as the addition, deduction, mutation, and transposition of
letters, or even syllables. Thus Mr. Webbe thinks that the derivation of
the Greek γυνὴ _a woman_, from the Chinese _na-gin_, is
self-evident.

Whatever degree of affinity may be discovered between the sounds of the Chinese language and those of other nations, their written character has no analogy whatsoever, but is entirely peculiar to itself. Neither the Egyptian inscriptions, nor the nail-headed characters, or monograms, found on the Babylonian bricks, have any nearer resemblance to the Chinese than the Hebrew letters have to the Sanscrit; the only analogy that can be said to exist between them is, that of their being composed of points and lines. Nor are any marks or traces of alphabetic writing discoverable in the composition of the Chinese character; and, if at any time, hieroglyphics have been employed to convey ideas, they have long given way to a collection of arbitrary signs settled by convention, and constructed on a system, as regular and constant as the formation of sounds in any of the European languages arises out of the alphabets of those languages.

The history of the world affords abundant evidence that, in the dawn of civilization, most nations endeavoured to fix and to perpetuate ideas by painting the figures of the objects that produced them. The Egyptian priesthood recorded the mysteries of their religion in graphic emblems of this kind; and the Mexicans, on the first arrival of the Spaniards, informed their prince Montezuma of what was passing by painting their ideas on a roll of cloth. There is no way so natural as this of expressing, and conveying to the understanding of others, the images that pass in the mind, without the help of speech. In the course of the present voyage, an officer of artillery and myself were dispatched to make observations on the small island of _Collao_, near the coast of _Cochin-China_. In order to make the natives comprehend our desire to procure some poultry, we drew on paper the figure of a hen, and were immediately supplied to the extent of our wants. One of the inhabitants taking up the idea drew close behind the hen the figure of an egg, and a nod of the head obtained us as many as we had occasion for. The Bosjesmen Hottentots, the most wild and savage race perhaps of human beings, are in the constant habit of drawing, on the sides of caverns, the representations of the different animals peculiar to the country. When I visited some of those caverns I considered such drawings as the employment of idle hours; but, on since reflecting that in almost all such caverns are also to be seen the figures of Dutch boors (who hunt these miserable creatures like wild beasts) in a variety of attitudes, some with guns in their hands, and others in the act of firing upon their countrymen; waggons sometimes proceeding and at others standing still, the oxen unyoked, and the boors sleeping; and these representations generally followed by a number of lines scored like so many tallies; I am inclined to think they have adopted this method of informing their companions of the number of their enemies, and the magnitude of the danger. The animals represented were generally such as were to be met with in the district where the drawings appeared; this, to a people who subsist by the chace and by plunder, might serve as another piece of important information.

The Chinese history, although it takes notice of the time when they had no other method of keeping their records, except, like the Peruvians, by knotting cords, makes no mention of any hieroglyphical characters being used by them. If such were actually the case, the remains of symbolical writing would now be most discoverable in the radical, or elementary characters, of which we shall presently have occasion to speak, and especially in those which were employed to express some of the most remarkable objects in nature. Out of the two hundred and twelve, or thereabout, which constitute the number of the radical signs, the following are a few of the most simple, in none of which, in my opinion, does there appear to be the least resemblance between the picture and the object.

人 _gin_, man

口 _koo_, a mouth

土 _tee_, earth

子 _tsé_, a son

艸 _tsau_, a plant

山 _shan_, a mountain

心 _sin_, a heart

手 _shoo_, a hand

方 _fang_, space, or a square of ground

月 _yué_, the moon

日 _jee_, the sun

木 _moo_, a tree

水 _swee_, water

火 _ho_, fire

石 _shee_, a stone.

The rest of the elementary characters are, if possible, still more unlike the objects they represent. There seems, therefore, to be no grounds for concluding that the Chinese ever made use of hieroglyphics or, more properly speaking, that their present character sprung out of hieroglyphics. They have a tradition, which is universally believed, that their prince _Fo-shee_ was the inventor of the system upon which their written character is formed, and which, without any material alteration, there is every reason to suppose has continued in use to this day. To _Fo-shee_, however, they ascribe the invention of almost every thing they know, which has led Mr. Baillie ingeniously to conjecture that _Fo-shee_ must have been some foreigner who first civilized China; as arts and sciences do not spring up and bear fruit in the life of one man. Many changes in the form of characters may have taken place from time to time, but the principle on which they are constructed seems to have maintained its ground. The redundancies of particular characters have been removed for the sake of convenience; and the learned in their epistolary writing have adopted a sort of running hand, in which the form is so very materially altered, by rounding off the angles, connecting some parts and wholly omitting others, as to make it appear to a superficial observer a totally different language. But I may venture to observe, that it has not only not undergone any material alteration for more than two thousand years, but that it has never borrowed a _character_, or a syllable, from any other language that now exists. As a proof of this, it may be mentioned, that every new article that has found its way into China since its discovery to Europeans has acquired a Chinese name, and entirely sunk that which it bore by the nation who introduced it. The proper names even of countries, nations, and individuals are changed, and assume new ones in their language. Thus Europe is called _See-yang_, the western country; Japan _Tung-yang_, the eastern country; India _Siau-see-yang_, the little western country. The English are dignified by the name of _Hung-mou_, or _Red-heads_, and the French, Spanish, Portuguese, and others, who visit China, have each a name in the language of the country totally distinct from that they bear in Europe. This inflexibility in retaining the words of their own poor language has frequently made me think, that Doctor Johnson had the Chinese in his mind when, in that inimitable piece of fine writing which prefaces his dictionary, he made this remark: "The language most likely to continue long without alteration, would be that of a nation raised a little, and but a little, above barbarity, secluded from strangers, and totally employed in procuring the conveniences of life."

The invention of the Chinese character, although an effort of genius, required far less powers of the mind than the discovery of an alphabet; a discovery so sublime that, according to the opinion of some, nothing less than a divine origin ought to be ascribed to it. It may, however, be considered as the nearest approximation to an universal character that has hitherto been attempted by the learned and ingenious of any nation; each character conveying at once to the eye, not only simple, but the most combined ideas. The plan of our countryman, Bishop Wilkins, for establishing an universal character is, in all respects, so similar to that upon which the Chinese language is constructed, that a reference to the former will be found to convey a very competent idea of the nature of the latter. The universal character of our countryman is, however, more systematic, and more philosophical, than the plan of the Chinese character.